~Prologue~

Two timers.

'They must be hunted down! They can bring no good to us, all who consult them are the spawn of the devil himself!' Declared the activated nobleman, trusted by the majority of those he spoke with.
"Agreed, after all, they're undesirables." Another voice called out, the figures all rosy cheeked with the elevated feeling brought by their drinks.

Is this what we're up against? Drunken noble men barely able to lift a sword and point it at anything worth the effort? Perhaps we have it all to easy. Just maybe... just maybe.