The beginning of an end...

Oshar opened his eyes. He was lying on his back beneath a lead grey sky, the ground was soft and moist beneath him. The distant roll of thunder was the first thing he heard, followed by the heavy wet tap of ran striking his body. About him a stunted, gnarled forest grew up from boggy ground and the stench of rot assailed his nostrils.

He sat up.

"So you have finally joined us." he turned to see Melandra leaning against a nearby tree, sword in hand.

"This can not be." Oshar shook his head.

"We did warn you." Melandra laughed. Oshar reached for his blades but there were gone.

"Oh your murdering days are over." the woman rolled her eyes and pushed herself from the tree, stepping closer.

Oshar scrambled to his feet almost loosing his balance on the slick wet mud.

"Careful, you will mess up your robes." Melandra offered him a hand but he did not take it.

"What trickery is this?" he asked and she simply smiled.

"No tricks, just an end." and with that she was walking away, not looking back to see if he would follow.

Oshar looked around him at this desolate landscape and shivered. The rain was becoming more insistent.

What could he do but follow.