The Devil passed through the lands of the Earth, and the Wolf remained hidden under the Moon. The Black Elder Dragon, the king of the Daedric Lords and the leader of the demonic army of hell. The time has come for them to rise from the depths of the underworld and rule above all others. The time has come for their god to rise from the ashes and take his place as king of both Hell and Earth. The time has come for warriors, hunters, and powerful beings to fight for their lives against the creatures of the night.

        In the Eastern Baltic, a Ranger roamed the long and dark road that went ever on and on, and he was an alone wanderer. A wanderer on the face of the Earth, a man who fought the hordes of darkness for as long as he could remember. He feared no man nor beast, and he would never run away from his foes that chased him in the sleepless nights before him. He never slept at night, and he never awakened after a long and enduring battle against the demons of Hell. He fought back against them all with his two-edged sword and never surrendered to the legion of death.

        His name is Ragnar of Midland, the Ranger. He had a long beard, long black hair, and had black eyes. He carried a Ranger's Armor: steel gauntlets, steel boots, light steel armor, and had a long black cloak behind his back. He took a longbow with steel arrows, and wielded a Steel double-edged sword; he carried all of his weapons onto his back. Ragnar was a big brute of a Ranger, he hunted both the wildlife and killed the creatures of darkness. 

        He did so for a whole decade, and ever since then, he knew and understood what it was like to live in the clutches of death. Everywhere he wanders, and wherever he goes, he can feel the cold stench of death following him from behind. Nevertheless, he ignored those signs, and he minded his own business as he walked the long, dark road. The day will come when he fights his greatest battle against the creatures of the night. Fortunately, his greatest battle will not be fought anytime soon, so he has much to prepare for when that time comes.

      It was at a particular time at night when he found himself fighting against the Demons that fought back against him with swords and axes.

           "Come at me, demons! Come at me if you dare!" Ragnar shouted. Of the two roads to Maliken, one is relatively short and direct across upland moors. 

           The other—long and tortuous—twists its way and the brooding hummocks and snake-haunted quagmires of the swamplands to the east. As dusk settles like a falling curtain, Ragnar of Midland found himself in a whirl of hellish combat at a crossroads between two pathways and two armies from the underworld. Ragnar charges quickly towards the Demons, and he swings his Greatsword, and he began to kill every single one of the Demons in his path. He blocks and dodges every single one of the attacks that the Demons throw at him. Then he uses his Greatsword and cuts off their heads, slices them in half, and leaves them open all in brutal and violent manners. 

           Blood began to splatter all over the place, and lots of Gore started to stain the ground that they were standing on. And after he fought that large group of Demons, he comes across a specific villager that was standing beside a sign that led to two different roads.

           "Why are you out here? It's dangerous at night," Ragnar said.

           "I know it's dangerous, Ranger," the villager said.

           "What sort of tricks are you up to?" Ragnar asked.

           "No trickery, Ranger! It was as if you were dreaming! I only just roused you!" The villager shouted.

           "Then, what is it that has been stolen from these people?" 

           "Do not blame yourself! It's these unholy moors! The very soil is tainted!"

           "The villagers mentioned no—"

           "They saw you head here when you left the town, so they sent me running to warn you. Do not take the moor road, Ranger! You should instead take the path through yonder swamp!

           "Amid bog and viper? But the moor road's but half the Journey to Maliken."

           "A road nobody uses now. No dwellings there... no living thing. The swamp at least is home to old Milton, the miser!"

           "Milton."

           "Alone since his maniac cousin, Gibson, wandered and died in the swamp! Milton could afford working if you're in need of respite. The moors are certain death by night! Something unspeakable guards the way!"

           "And what might that be?" 

           "None has seen the thing and lived, Ranger. Only it's cruel laughter has been heard far out on the fen, followed by the terrible shriek of its victims. The corpses of the moor victims are many. They have been torn and shredded to pieces and they all bled to death." 

           And so, Ragnar left the villager behind on the side of the road and started to walk down the long, dark road as the night began to come towards him. The sun was setting as Ragnar came over the brow of the low hill, which debouched into the upland fen. Huge and blood-red, it sank behind the sullen horizon of the moors, seeming to touch the rank grass with fire, so for a moment, the watcher seemed to be gazing out across a sea of blood. Then the dark shadows came gliding from the east, the western blaze faded, and Ragnar of Midland struck out boldly in the gathering darkness. The road was dim from disuse but was clearly defined; Ragnar went swiftly but warily, Greatsword and his Bow and Arrow at hand. 

           Stars blinked out, and night winds whispered among the grass like weeping specters and the moon began to rise, lean and haggard, like a skull among the stars. 

                                                       II

           "Some implacable force indeed rides the eventide—the very thing could have confounded my mind earlier. Yet I have defied the Devil many times. Tonight would be neither first nor last," Ragnar said to himself. Then, Ragnar continued to walk straightforward and worry less about the things that he would fight back on this night.

           "A haggard moon is surely rising. A blind skull amid the bright eyes of stars," he said. And then, he started to hear laughter and it was very loud and violent, and it revolved around Ragnar.

           "My god! That terrible laughter, terrible as Belial himself!" He shouted. Ragnar then pulls out his Greatsword and holds onto it as he continues to hear dark voices surrounding him.

           "But that scream is human enough. Cursed shadows," he said. And then, he started to a bunch of footsteps as he walked forward and was trying to see what it was that was making these things happen.

           Then, Ragnar said to himself, "The drum of running feet! Someone hunted out on the running fen! A confrontation... much closer now. Damn my soul for a moment's clear light!" 

           Suddenly, Ragnar started to see a grisly corpse walk and stand before him as blood and gore start to drip down from his body. 

           "God preserve us," he said. And then, the corpse falls upon the ground and all the Ranger could ever see was the blood and gore of some unlucky human.

           "Dead... but human... or what's left of a human. Witch hunt or inquisition—neither matches such godless beauty," Ragnar said. And so, Ragnar said nothing more of the matter, and he had other things to do; such as find this mysterious being and kill it.

           "Silence, now. Cold, deep silence... yet I am not alone on this road. Some force is here with me. That mist ahead... wisp of moor fog... or something else?" He asked himself. Suddenly, a large wind began to blow violently towards him and he started to see a large mist of air and wind stand before him.

           "Some hellish figure. What on earth is this thing?" Ragnar asked. But he could not get his answers, no matter how or what he does, so he pulls out his bow and many arrows and he aims and fires at the ghastly figure before his eyes.

           "I will not cower before a beast of vapor!" He shouted. Little did he know, the arrows did not carry any sort of damage to the creature and the arrows didn't instantly kill it.

           "I will never surrender to the likes of you, servant of Satan," Ragnar said. As Ragnar swings his Greatsword against it, the vaporous form of the creature could not feel the strong steel as it regenerated itself. 

           "A vaporous ghost, perhaps?" He asked. Then, the creature takes the Ranger by his long black hair and he picks him up with just one hand while holding the two-edged sword with the other. 

           "Why? What on earth is this thing? Why can't I defeat him?" He asked himself. And then, the creature drops him to the ground and uses one hand and started to choke the life out of him.

           "Vermin of Stygia! I will not be the hunted across your trackless moors! I will not yield to you or your dominion, you wretched beast!" Ragnar shouted. The creature did not listen to a single word he said, and so he decided to choke the Ranger some more. 

           "If I die this night, then everything I've ever done will all be for nothing. The world will surely fall to the servants of Hell," He said. And from the shadows, the creature showed his true form as he roars and howls at the night sky.

           "Well, what do you know? The thing howls in torment at divinity's name," Ragnar said. Then, the creature creeps up from behind him and the beast starts to tear him apart with his claws.

           And as Ragnar falls onto the ground, he could feel so much of his blood leaving him and he started to get very dizzy.

If the mere mention of God drives this ghost to despair, how else can I use that hatred to fight back against this creature? Ragnar thought. He started to feel all sorts of pain come to him as he lost so much blood while fighting back against this demonic creature. 

           Then, Ragnar thinks to himself, Those long-stretching limbs of a tall tree, their shadow effects a nearly perfect cross. If I can just roll between them, perhaps I might be able to...

           And then, Ragnar starts to run away from the creature and ran towards the tall tree that was a few feet away from him. He finds his Sword on the ground and he picks it up and points the blade at the beast; even though he might get injured twice as much as he already did, he still needed to put an end to this. The creature roars violently at Ragnar and he charges quickly against him to finish him off. Ragnar swings his Greatsword at the Demon and he takes a long step to his left to not get ran over. And then, he charges towards the creature and starts to slice the demon's body everywhere he can as he prevents himself from passing out. 

           And while doing so, he dodges every single attack that the beast throws at him, and he did not give up. It would be the last thing he would ever want to do as his life is hanging in the balance; he never surrendered to this wretched creature. And so, he kept jumping from one place to the next to dodge the oncoming attacks and while doing so, he swung back and attacked his enemy. And eventually, Ragnar had the upper hand and he started delivering more attacks and twice as much damage than the beast. He swings his Greatsword so quickly that he didn't care what would happen to the strength of his arms in the morning.

                                                        III

     And then with all of his strength and anger, Ragnar uses his Greatsword and he stabs the Demon in the throat and pulls the sword back. Lots of blood began to splatter all over the place and lots of gore began to stain the ground. He uses his Sword again and he slices off the head of the demon and the head falls onto the ground. And so, the battle between Ragnar against the demonic creature is over and the night continued onward. And as he puts his sword back to his scabbard, Ragnar started to feel very dizzy and he could barely see what was happening before his eyes. 

       It was a long, yet grisly battle and Ragnar had many scars on his face and side; during that time, he could no longer comprehend what would lie before him during this night. Then, Ragnar falls down to the ground and he passed out; all he could see was plain darkness as his eyes were closed. Suddenly, without him noticing, someone coming from the shadows started to walk slowly towards him. He wore clothing that a common person would wear if he came from a certain village and he had fancy boots on. This man kneels down with one knee before the Ranger and all the man could see was blood stained all over Ragnar's face.

           This man was that same villager that Ragnar met after he fought that large group of demons that stood in his way. The villager picks up Ragnar's head and he helps him off the ground; Ragnar starts to open his eyes and he saw that the villager was beside him. The villager helped Ragnar walk down the road and they both headed straight for Milton's home. His house was not big but not small either, it was sizable enough to fit a family of three. Ragnar walks to the front door and he knocks on the door about five times before walking back a few steps.

           "Well, what do you want of old Milton?" The man asked. Milton was a pretty old man for his age, he lived all by himself and he was the only person to ever live near the moor road. 

           "The boy... said you might..." Ragnar said.

           "Boy?" Milton asked. And then, Ragnar turns around and sees that the villager is gone, he was nowhere to be seen as Milton opened the door.

           "He was here a moment ago," Ragnar said.

           "Come inside. Night vipers about," Milton said. And so Ragnar did not hesitate, and he went inside the house of Milton where he was kept safe from the Night.

           "More spectral than bestial, I'm afraid," Ragnar said. 

           "Have a seat. I have poultice for those wounds. What kind of beast gave you those wounds, stranger?" Milton asked. As Ragnar sits himself down on a chair, Milton starts to pour hot tea into a cup and he gives it to the Ranger.

           "Seems to me as if you caught a fever from the swamp. The hot broth will set you straight," he said. And then as Ragnar drinks the tea from the cup, Milton starts to see that he was wearing a silver diamond ring.

           "A ring with a diamond?! Man of the cloth, are you?" Milton asked.

           "Man of far wanderings. This ring was given to me from a woman who lived among the wolves," Ragnar answered. 

           Then, Milton said to him, "So you're alone? Birds of a feather! All my life alone. That's how I prefer it. Let the town folk call me Miser—no skin off my behind! It's the solitary life that defines me."

           "I'm thinking it's not always solitary," Ragnar said.

           "Villagers whispered of young Gibson, did they? Indeed. My maniac cousin from up north. He abided with me a long time ago. Then, he robbed me of everything and left me for dead!" 

           "Not very familiar."

           "Familial?! He stabbed me in the back with his own dagger. And he helped himself to my gold coins... my gold ring... even my gold tooth. And he fled to the swamp. But they are strangers, and liars do not know the swamp as they are bred here. Still, I followed after... shouting a warning cry... only to have the madman set upon me yet again, naked and insane beyond belief, at the bog's very edge. Blind to all heed, he raced straight into the quicksand's embrace... there to sink and scream like a demented banshee as I writhed in pain. I will hear the terror in that pitiful scream for the rest of my days as I see those talon fingers claw the sky."

           Ragnar sat there looking at Milton as he stared down at the ground while remembering that tragic day that happened to him. 

           "What about your gold, Milton?" Ragnar asked.

           "In the swamp... along with his tortured soul," Milton answered.

           "You don't have anyone else in your family?" Ragnar asked. Then, Milton looks at a large golden urn on a table and he places his right hand on the urn and keeps it there. 

           "In this urn lies the remains of all that I love. Get some sleep now, Ranger. The rooster will crow soon enough," Milton said. And so, Ragnar did as the old man said and finds himself a place to sleep in the house as the Night continues on. 

           An hour later, the moon was still out and the stars in the sky were still visible, and Ragnar was sleeping on Milton's bed while he slept on a chair. 

           "Ragnar... Ragnar of Midland. Wake up," A voice called his name. Ragnar immediately opens his eyes and he heard the voice that called to him; he reacted by picking up his dagger, which led to the urn falling down.

           "What the hell?!" Ragnar shouted. As he looked down at the urn being cracked open, he could see all of the stolen items that Milton kept to himself.

                                                       IV

           "Mother of God! Gold coins, gold tooth, gold rings. With one ring still wrapped around a severed finger!" Ragnar shouted. And then, Milton crept up from behind Ragnar's back and held a dagger high up into the sky to kill the Ranger.

           "Aye! And your silver diamond ring will be a fine addition!" Milton shouted. Milton tries to attack Ragnar with the dagger, but he missed and Ragnar dodged everything that Milton threw at him.

           Ragnar takes Milton by the throat and chokes him as he throws the dagger away from the old man.

           "You will find that I am not an easy target, fiend!" Ragnar shouted. Ragnar held onto the old man and he throws Milton out of the house with so much force and anger.

           Milton landed inside of the river which had snakes swimming inside of it, and he started to tremble and scream in agony.

           "Snakes, the snakes. Get it off of me!" Milton shouted.

           "Venom-less water snakes, you ignorant hermit! But this night is not done with you," Ragnar said.

           "Damn you! Where are you dragging me, brigand?!" Milton shouted. Ragnar took him away from the river, wipes the snakes off of the old man, and starts to drag him to a nearby tree.

           "I'm taking you to an old relation, miser! Whom you first murdered and robbed, then hid within this gnarled tree! Though I assume, without his ring finger," Ragnar answered. Then, he climbs up to the tree and he pulls out the skeleton of Milton's cousin and throws it onto the ground. 

           "You will surely know when you see this corpse before your eyes," Ragnar said.

           "What... what are you going to do to me?!" Milton shouted.

           "Milton, pat homage again to your murdered cousin!" Ragnar shouted. And then, Milton takes a good look at the skeleton, and the corpse began to change and take shape.

           It was the same exact demonic beast that Ragnar slaughtered on the moor road and this demon whirled itself around the old man. Without hesitation, the demon grabbed Milton and started to tear his flesh apart with its bare hands, and Milton, the miser, was no more. 

           "Poor Gibson was demented, indeed," Ragnar said. And as he turned around, he saw the villager walking towards him and stood beside him. 

           "His ghost was so blinded by its rage, it killed anyone who entered the moors," The villager said.

           "Gold and other coins... several gold rings—" Ragnar said.

           "Aye. And one gold tooth," The villager said. And as he said this, he started to look at the sky and see that Ragnar did a great deed in this place. 

           He vanished the evil that lurked on the roads of Maliken and gave the old miser a fate that he would never change. And so, Ragnar stood there as the villager disappeared from his sight and everything made sense to him, now. Nothing could be seen, then. The moor was an ocean of shadows and the tall grass about him bent in long waves before a faint wind, breaking the deathly stillness with breathless murmurings.