Flashbacks are sparse, but every now and again i get this taste of coal dust, the stink of gore and the screaching and flapping of demon wings as a black cloud approaches the last portal out of our home lands,

drawing my sword i look down to the portal shimmering below in the court yard, there are still 1000s of my charges shuffling through the rift, not enough time.

i look to my left and to my right i see only a few of my beloved brothers, united we take a glance at eachother with quiet certainty we nod knowing the task ahead will buy only but a few extra moments but that would mean many lives,

"WE ARE THE COLD DAWN" with that cry we charge towards the oncoming tide of demons;