14th. day |
Season of the Snow Serpent
Year of the Dragon
I begin this journal, at the advice of the monks of the temple, who I have lived with since as long as I can remember.
I remember little of my past, but then so few but the oldest do. When first our world erupted in war, the monks of this temple bent the full force of their power to bind a part of their old home into the ether. Days and seasons pass here in an uncertain way and the above date is but a guess.
The temple where I have spent my time learning many of my skills stands like a mirror image to the dark gate, beyond which lies the realm of a great demon. Little did the monks understand at the time that this was merely one of many that have since turned much of the old world into a graveyard. At the time, it was believed that the one we trapped was the only danger. Only now the barrier that holds us into this pocket of time and binds the black gate closed grows weak. Even now there are those that complain of strange headaches and strange dreams in which they search through dark caves for unknown objects. The monks are quite aware 'what' objects though, for the black gate, even if weakened, cannot be opened to release the demon lord without the five keys used to lock it. That some now dream of finding them is a disaster.