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"It is a time of celebration and joy. The war is won and the King of Death is defeated.
But for the Lich Lord, Nemeddes, death is merely an inconvenience and in a moment of brutal cunning, he sways the tide of battle back into his favour.
Once more his dark host marches on the free lands of Ostus. This time no army can best it. The Darkness is ascendant and all the Light can offer as champion is a cowardly farm hand unable to even wield a sword.
Yet this farm hand is not alone, three great heroes ride with him and he possesses the one thing that can stop the Lich…"
It is a time of darkness and dread. The strong crush the weak and witchcraft and necromancy swell unchecked.
Through this chaos one man walks, joyous in slaughter and death: Ahriman - the Dark Rider. Thrice a king by his own hand, he is a cruel and wilful killer; cunning, heartless and immune to compassion.
But now Ahriman is dying. Desperate for a cure he journeys into the forsaken North. At his back, he is pursued by the scores of enemies he has made through his evil life.
Before him there is something worse - the armies of Yebzor, the Witch of the Hill... and beyond her, something vile and ancient that awakens from long slumber.
This corrupt power is perverse beyond all human understanding and is completely unused to defiance or defeat.
But then, in all its long life, it has never before faced an enemy like Emal-Na'rad Ahriman...
The realms of suffering are the hells of monsters, of ghosts and of machines.
Ghosts deserve compassion because they are spiritually lost. They are dreams caught between life and death. They wander hungrily and aimlessly.
To be born again as consciousness is a rare and golden opportunity.
Monks who eat nothing but a few vegetables and some rice each day put aside seven grains for the benefit of hungry ghosts they have never known.
This is but a single grain.
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