Story

Djaron sighed. It had been many years since he had last ventured from his sanctuary
in the temple, to see the town which had once been his to rule. They were good days,
when people had walked the streets without fear, when every person had enough to eat
and no-one needed to beg, and visitors to the land could travel to any area within
his realm safely and without the security of weapons and magical spells.
Now it was all different. He didnt know what had first started the rot setting in,
perhaps the complacency of his people had made the realm an easy place for
intruders to settle and gradually invade.
To the west of Krynn a Drow city had sprung up, with its inhabitants learning
weapons mastery day by day, and preparing themselves for battle. In the north,
the once grassy fields were even now being scorched by sun and turning to desert,
with all the creatures and insects ready to bite and sting any visitor on sight.
South, the marshland was one huge swamp, inhabited by unknown horrors, and East
the gypsy encampment gave a safe haven to the thieves, thugs and other rogues that
now plagued the streets of Krynn.
Krynn itself was unsafe. The townguards had given up trying to police the town,
and now patrolled purely out of habit. They allowed felons to walk wherever they
wanted unchallenged, and at times would even attack adventurers for little or no
reason.
Djaron hid in the temple, protecting those visitors who needed a place to rest and
a clean fountain from which to drink. Aldean, once the giver of spells to any who
asked, now stayed at the altar, praying for the return of peace to the land of
Dark Wizardry.
Although he would still heal or protect adventurers on request, this was now at a
price, as he needed food just to live and continue praying. Kala, the high
priestess, was to his west, and now spent all her time attempting to recover the
corpses of those who died trying to clense the land.
They were bad days. Even the Immortals did not help. They watched events from the
clouds, and laughed at the pathetic attempts of the mortals below to rid the land
of monsters.
They had even built an area for mortals to fight each other, as if the mobs
already infesting every part of the world were not enough of a challenge. As
those adventurers travelled in their quest to rid the place of unwanted visitors,
the immortals would reanimate those monsters that had been killed and throw them
back in the face of the weary travellers.
Djaron had heard that Sabian, once the judge, jury and executioner of those who
transgressed the laws of the land, was still trying to clean the land. He now gave
quests to those who wished to help him, and rewarded the successful.
Mortals had also told him that the school still existed, and still trained those who
entered this now dangerous realm. Guilds in each of the disciplines of Dark
Wizardry would train those who gained experience, and would teach them new skills
and spells.
Even the mortals had joined together in small clans, to aid each other in their
Dark Wizardry lives. Perhaps there was still hope.