"Fear not this new night, my brothers, the terrors of an everlasting darkness are as nothing when compared to the darkness in Man's heart. For, who among you knows what Man might do when Hunger sleeps in his bed and Famine is his child's only playmate?" --Prelude
Pie Jesu Domine *thwack*, dona eis requiem *thwack*...
Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.
You have been born into a rebellious world. The whole of history is treason; your blood was spilt before you were even born; the various creeds are but an infidelity to the Truth; and Man’s laws are but treason to his Maker. -Passage from the Samahhi
It is the Year of Furtive Shadows, and everyone can smell the changes in the wind. Everyone, from the lowest scully boy up to the regents, knew, deep down, that something must happen soon.
A military organization, the Stalkers are a hunting/mining militia that are known for wearing full body shrouds that easily hide them in snow and other slushy terrain. The lightly armored warriors are known for the speed, stealth, and the vicious wounds inflicted by their hunting hatchets. Many of the Stalkers keep crop-eared warhounds with them, both for hunting, companionship, and in war.