They came from over the Sea of Mist, while no man in the Kingdoms believed there was land to be found across it. Their ships were behemoths gliding out from the darkest of realms. Birds cackled wildly and circled in mad indecision, bringing the people out of their huts and to the rooftops. There was no mistaking it. Dark Gods had arrived in their lands.
     There was little other information that survived to spread to the rest of the lands. Several kings wrought their hands till white-knuckled, yet whatever was taking over the eastern shores was doing so totally, and completely, once again laying a fog of war over everything. The merchant's knew well enough to leave, and so a great scarcity befell the closest kingdoms. After several years, the East,  was known simply as the Shadow Hills. [or shadow coast?]
     In the Dark Lands once stood the kingdom of Uulia, as well as a vast wasteland of dunes and oases to its north, and a lush forest marshland to the south, both under the protectorate mandate of Uulia. The kingdom itself had been ruled by gentle kings, who in secret had for centuries yielded power to the merchant guilds. These same guilds controlled ports and supply lines across the continent, south of the Sea of Mist, where island nations spread across the horizon like crumbs before the table of civilization. Uulia had been a land of diversity, tolerance, and beauty, a crossroads of the known Eastern world. This was all before the black mist fell upon the east.

      "Don't neglect the garden work, or the great shadow will arrive next fall, for sure!" Gran Cath croaked at him from her roost above the fields.
       "Sure," Brok called back, "and the ice trolls will come, too, right?" He could hear her snort, but was already on his way to the meeting. He had grown up hearing demonic fairy tales about the Shadow Hills, about trolls and giants of ice. Enough, he thought. No one even knew if the stories were real. Out there, on the great plains, his world had always been safe, out of the way of the wars of the kingdoms , too far from the mountains to hear of raids from Cragfolk. It was all too safe, if Brok had anything to say about it. Sure, the cabbages still needed weeding, and water needed to be brought from the stream, but Brok was sure he'd get to that after the meeting. He'd been looking forward to it for a whole moon.
       "Regg, you ox, let's go!" Brok called through the curtains of the darkened lean-to. A thin woman holding a baby came out. Reggis's wife Anis and little daughter Anistis. "Why are you always so loud, Brok?" Anistis was beggining to moan at a low and steady level.
      Brok danced around a bit out of boredom, practicing fencing steps he'd never actually learned or been taught. "I just have a lot of important stuff to say, nana, that's all!"
      Reggis emerged from beneath the curtains, dressed in curtains himself, more or less. He had a smile on his face that was almost as clear as the hunger.
      "Make me wait another moon or two, will you?" Brok reached for Reggis and attempted to rub the younger, taller man's head in his own armpit. "Call me an ox, will you? You big river-eel--" The two toussled and lurched, bumping into Anis and Anistis, who then began to screech at a higher and much more agitating level. Murmurs arose from the hovels above.
      "Would you two get on with your philandering? Leave us decent folk here for a peaceful sunset," pleaded Anis. Anistis continued emitting a very unsure sound.
    Under a blighted, yellow moon, twenty-odd men were gathered outside Dashers stablery. Brok had known most of those faces all of his life. They were all skinny, all except Dashers and his three sons, all present. A low clinking gait drew each gaze towards the sunset, where a man in greaves and plate, with a flowing white cloak behind him, carrying sword and dirk, made his way slowly through the crowd. He was taller than none of them, and yet each of the village men drew back, gave way before him as if he were a Knight of the (-------), yet they knew he was not, that he was a hired man from a merchants guild, and nothing else.
     "No women? Hmph." He slowed his pace, meeting each of their gazes, appraising them. The hired knight looked up and down, checked limb and posture, saw the girth of the Dashers and the stooped, darkened backs of the Gresh boys, who worked in the wheat fields. He looked right at Brok, but who know's what he saw there. Then he was at the head of them all.
     "Well, I wanted more, but this is good."  He paused for a moment and they all listened to the insects buzzing violently in the nearby groves. "Our mission is dangerous, but the Red Sect has no higher purpose than to assist those in the direst need." Several faces turned from astonishment to wistful smiles. These farm boys and field men didn't know the Red Sect from the Sun's Order or the Indigo, but they all knew a guilder was a guilder, and a guilder only cared about money.
      "Barbarians and monsters have invaded our lands, but good people still live in Uulia. They have no king, since the shadow took the great house of Hannais and the honorable King Jor."
      "No man here ever heard o' no King Jor, house Han-nay, or Uulia. We only know the Black Country." The oldest Dasher brother, barely a man himself, yet largest among them all, chortled and nearly choked. The hired knight only grew more grave.
      "You may not see just how important your actions could be to the future of the world," said the knight. He waved over the crowd, back the way he came, where the sound of wagon wheels could be heard. Two stewards drew on a kit heavy-laden, a fact they all saw easy enough. "Those who will march with me in the morning will leave behind a very real and tangible bag of gold for their loved ones. Or, bring it with you, to spend in the brothels of Wexley."
      A few laughs arose from the crowd. "Is it true there's a river of ale in Wexley?" A headless voice called out. More laughter arose.
       "You will see for yourself. You will see more than that. You will see the kingdoms of Ramenia and Dinatos in full before we even reach the lands of mystery and adventure." The knight's tone had changed from a serious one. He was trying to hide his disdain, and most of them did not see it. Brok saw it.
       "I heard the cities of Dinatos are full of giant statues of Gods and..." Reggis's eyes were wide and Brok could tell he did not catch the hint of derision in the knight's voice.
        Later, his head low among the cabbages and Gran Cath snoring heartily on her stoop above, his head filled with visions of giant statues, crystal towers and twenty headed monsters of black mist. His hand still felt the weight of the gold he had carried home, and his heart felt oddly heavy in the twilight.