The vile winds were blowing harshly through Tusk Town, whispering of predictions of looming unfortune, but none could understand their language and thus, nobody was aware of what was about to come. It probably was a dawn of a new day, but sometimes it was hard to say in this forsaken land that was devoid of natural sunlight ever since a cursed spell was casted. This was the place where the three races – Humans, Untamed and Winged Elves – would expel their criminals. They would have to live with their sins and regrets in a place where nothing thrived and you had to embrace darkness, because there was nothing else. The town was surrounded by tall cliffs and was inaccessible from most directions, there was only one road leading to it from the east. Sometimes merchant caravans and other wanderers would come from there and remind the residents of Tusk Town that there was life outside of this dead land.

At the highest point was a huge stone altar, decorated by a fearsome face, and this was where the priest of Tusk Town would spend his time, mostly praying. Just like any other day, he was up early and had taken his position at the altar. He was standing in peace in the light of cursed fires coming from torches, waiting for a first person to come and consult him. He was highly respected man in Tusk Town, most likely even the most valued one. He was knowledgeable about various things, concerning many corners of Perfect World, and his advice was sought after regularly, both from the residents of Tusk Town, but also from the people of the outside world.

The shadow of his scrawny figure was playing with the fires as the priest was mumbling some prayers to himself. Tusk Town was a dark and rather miserable place, but it was still home to some people. So he prayed for them, hoping that the burdens on their hearts would lighten up a little. Some people around here had done bad deeds, resulting in their exile, but he didn't wish anything ill on these people. Everyone deserved a second chance in his opinion, and perhaps they would learn from their mistakes and grow into better individuals as a result. Some would disagree with him, and he understood that, but when you're living the empty life in a desolate place, you had to bring some hopes in your heart in order to be able to go on.

If there was one person who could understand the message of the winds, it was the priest. Of course, he couldn't read them well enough, but after standing at the altar for a good while, he started to get a feeling that something was not quite right. So he listened the sinister howls of the breeze that was blowing through Tusk Town. He felt it in his old bones, that something horrible was going to happen. But what and how to counter that, he didn't know, no matter how hard he tried to understand. The seed of worry took place in his mind and he didn't know how to weed it out.

Then the priest could see someone approaching him, and the person was in a hurry. This only made the roots of the worry grow and spread even deeper in the priest's mind, for surely the Human coming towards him was having something urgent to discuss. He followed with his gaze how the person got closer to him and as he did, the priest could see how anxious this Human was. Something definitely wasn't right. The priest didn't speak anything and just let the man to tell whatever was troubling him.

The man was panting heavily after running so fast to get to the priest. When his movements slowed down and he had caught his breath for a few seconds, he spoke: “Wraiths! Two horrible Wraiths has come to the town and are attempting to destroy everything!”

“Only two?” The priest looked very serious for a moment. “They must be really strong if they sent just two.”

“Yes! Few of our friends are already slain! Any advice?” the man was pleading.

The priest looked at the man with sympathetic eyes. He knew this man's story. The Wraiths had invaded his mind and tricked him so he killed a group of his own brothers in arms under their influence. When the Wraiths retreated from his mind, he was absolutely horrified seeing what he had done. He was deemed as a criminal and had got exiled to Black Mountain. Like many other people around Perfect World, he as well held grudge against those monstrous abominations and had a desire to eradicate them from this world, and he had been plotting his revenge. He was more than willing to fight, but was worried about others.

“We must make sure that those who can't fight are safe! Those who are able to carry a weapon should go halt the Wraiths! Alert everyone!” the priest shouted over the howling wind.

The man gave him a quick nod and turned around to run back to the direction where he had come from, shouting orders at few of his comrades who had come to look for him. They scattered, some were on their way to warn people of the danger and lead them out of the town, while the rest would join forces in order to banish the evil. The priest prayed in behalf of the residents of Tusk Town for a little while before he began to descend from the altar and unite with those who would try to escape from the town. His body was weak and useless, so there was nothing else he could do.

Meanwhile the people who were strong would join in the fight that was raging around the eastern part of the town, close to the only possible exit out of the settlement. They had to distract the Wraiths while the rest would attempt to flee from the town. It didn't have to take long before the defenders became aware that their opponents were ridiculously strong, even though there was just two of them. But they had to fight, for the sake of their home and friends, but also for the sake of whole Perfect World.

Their foes didn't seem all that intimidating by first glance. They both had the height of an average man. One was completely veiled by dark robes and a hood covered most of his face. With his daggers, he could strike down any opponent with amazingly swift movements. He was quick and agile and hard to hit while he mowed down those on his path.

The other one was a spellcaster, dressed in blue and white robes and he had horns on his head that were like a crown. Although he was much slower than his comrade, he had strong magical abilities. He commanded the elements of water and metal, and he could cast his spells to devastate his opponents and his surroundings. It was hard to land a hit on him as well as he could freeze anyone approaching him.

Together they were a marvelous force, just like they had been during the times when they had still been alive. They were fallen heroes, and died while protecting their precious world, just like so many. But the Wraiths managed to get their hands on their bodies and reanimated them, now controlling them like puppets. The same story had happened too many times already, and it would happen again and again. Previous comrades would face each other in the battlefield as enemies and the fight seemed endless. But the people of Perfect World would not give up. They were driven by a force to protect their beautiful world and the residents of Tusk Town still had that spark in their hearts. They were willing to fight until the bitter end.

But their end was near sooner than they had probably expected. They were looking at their demise in the eye as they faced the two individuals controlled by Wraiths. The man with daggers was aggressively attacking their group and forcing them to be defensive while the spellcaster was backing him up with his spells, relentlessly tormenting the defenders of Tusk Town. It wasn't just the group of fighters that were suffering from his magical powers, as he would target buildings as well, destroying parts of them with black ice, which was incredibly cold and rigid. The people of Tusk Town had never seen anything like it and such power was frightening to them. And yet, they found courage in their hearts to keep fighting this evil, so they confronted their enemy with all they got, refusing to go down easily.

The scene was like a dance of madness. Every movement by the two Wraiths seemed so deliberated and smooth, it was like they were dancing to a tune only they could hear. Their dead bodies showed no signs of exhaustion, unlike the people of Tusk Town. The glacial spells had started to hinder the movements of the defenders, freezing them from inside. They became sluggish and tired, turning into an easy prey for the blood-thirsty weapons. The man with the daggers was moving swiftly, almost like in a blur, he was a whirlwind of daggers. One by one, the frozen and exhausted residents of Tusk Town would fall, the light of life dying out from their eyes, their gaze fixed on the sunless sky. But they didn't die completely in vain, for they successfully managed to halt the enemies long enough that the rest of the town were able to sneak past them and escape, heading to the Black Mountain. Few of the cowardly sort had left the battlefield and joined in with the refugees, leaving their comrades to die alone. They could live to see another day, but they would also have to bear the burden of abandoning their brothers at a time when they needed help the most.

The people of Tusk Town fought bravely, but death and destruction were inevitable. Soon the barren ground was dotted with dead bodies and stained with fresh blood. Only two figures were left standing on the battlefield. This time, the Wraiths were victorious. The duo proceeded to move further into the town, the spellcaster still conjuring up the black ice to strike the buildings, claiming them as their property.

That day, Tusk Town fell into the hands of Wraiths and a great shadow was casted over the settlement. These abominations, these blights of the land, would now hold Tusk Town as one of their nests of evil. The fallen warriors would be reanimated and serve their gain, joining in the army of darkness. Strategically, this stronghold would be remarkable, as many goods from the Dreamweaver Port to Archosaur would travel through Black Mountain, and it would be easy to ambush them from Tusk Town. Cutting off this route would be a great blow to the Allied Forces.

Perfect World became more grim that day. But despite this loss, the war wasn't over. There were still heroes in this world, willing to crush the dark forces of the Wraiths. Sometimes heroes would fall, but new ones would take their place. In their hearts they hold hope and the will to eradicate the world from the evil. It was only a matter of time.