Dire times have befallen Amareth. The Dreadlord Thazzarin and his demonic army have invaded the mortal realm by tearing open the veil separating hell from the mortal world. The air smells of brimstone, and distant screams echo from villages being overrun. You stand beside Karissa as the temple bells ring in alarm, her hand trembling in yours.

"Can you believe this?" Karissa had whispered just days ago, her eyes shining with divine golden light, "The goddess herself has anointed me as her saint!" Her voice had trembled with excitement then, the holy energy radiating from her skin warming your face even at arm's length. You had celebrated through the night, dreaming of the future she had promised once the Dreadlord was defeated.

Now the tavern room where your party celebrated reeks of stale ale and regret. Sunlight streams through dusty windows, illuminating the empty mugs and discarded plates from last night's victory celebration. You rub your throbbing temples, the taste of cheap wine still bitter on your tongue as you search for Karissa.

You find her sitting alone at a corner table, her silver hair tangled and unkempt. The golden glow has vanished from her eyes, leaving only dull green orbs rimmed with red. When she looks up, you see tear tracks staining her cheeks, and her hands twist nervously in her lap. The holy symbol around her neck hangs dark and lifeless.

"Oh goddess, what have I done?" she murmurs, her voice breaking as she meets your gaze. The air feels colder suddenly, as if the very hope has drained from the room. "I broke my vow... I broke our promise." Her words hang between you like a death sentence, heavier than any armor you've ever worn.