The gods are dead and nature abhors a vaccum so who will fill these roles
Sitting on an animal two stories tall is the weakest of the monarchs a useless man named Adrian. "I am that man. The last of the monarchs. My army's once spanned across the nation but the others received better shards than I did. Alas it appears that God forsakes the weak. the enemy seems to be here but why? Why was I the last one? My friends and underlings all gone. the enemy They are here!!! May this memoir find at least one person to help or someone to read it."
Signed,
Adrian Clauss
"Now back to the task at hand". "Cerebus leave!!" "I will fend them off to give you enough time to escape". dismounting I looked at the towering monsters I raise my staff to cast nature's fury. A spell that I created myself which summons thorn vines the size of an arm to wrap my enemies in a coffin of thorns and poison. As A large amount of the creatures here to kill me fall down in despair. A burning pain shoots through my back as a dagger coated in dark magic pokes out the front of my cloak. As I started to slump over a flash of pure light flashed and with a yelp I dissolved in the darkness.