The Soulblight King: Prologue, The Rise of Pares, the city of the damned.

In times past, the city of Pares was a mighty Bretonni Kingdom, it was the home of the Great House Dufour and home to the King Thierre. He ruled the lands with a weak mind, but none would stand against him because of his bodyguard of devoted Grail Knights. The King made underhand deals with many an enemy including Chaos Mortals and blood suckers from the North. 

One house finally stood up to this tyrant and stormed the walls of Pares, killing the King and taking the power away from this evil land.. But it was too late, a deal had been made with the Lord of Undead and in return, should the city ever fall, there would be no rest. The Kingdom would rise again in the name of Nagash. But as a cruel twist, they have been bound to the city. Until the return of the rightful heir of House Dufour, 'The Black Knight' returns to rule once again.

In the depths of the bowels of the castle, upon the great hall of the King, a man stood staring upon the city as he had done for centuries gone by. Foul sounds lurked from the dark corners of the room. the man stood over 6ft tall and wore a large animal hide upon his shoulders. He was clad in the finest armour and a hood covered his face. 

"My King" a voice whispered from the entrance. "My king, a war band of warriors march through the city, the kind that worship the blood god, shall I give the order to attack?"

The man said nothing, just continued to stare upon the Realm. "My Lo.." The whisper stopped as the man turned around, his face could still not be seen bar a bone structure of a jaw which spoke two words. "be gone.."

The voice and shadow dissapeared out of the chamber and the man turned back to the view from the Window. His thoughts turned back to finding a way of escaping the boundaries to enact his revenge.

The city of Pares had descended into ruin since the day House Houghton declared war and put siege upon the walls. The lands were desolate, the crops no longer grew, the roads and cobblestone were now being overtaken by the wilderness. No one took residence in the villages and towns that made up this Kingdom. The wind groaned in sadness as it blew through the streets and graves.

As darkness approached the sounds of wolves howls filled the air, the chatter of teeth and dragging of flesh grew louder. The city was in fact not abandoned but alive with Death. The men, women and children of Pares, including the nobles and monarch suffered the same curse. Only one escaped the clutches, the grandchild of the King, he is now lost in the Realm and only if his return is one to rule will the city be given back its life. 

The King of House Dufour had a curse of soul blight bestow upon him from Nagash. He made the deal with the dead long ago, he now regretted it every second of his existence in this form. His legions of flesh eaters, death rattle, death walkers and mages used to be proud Bretonnian folk, living a comfortable life in Pares, their kingdom was mighty, crops grew a plenty, the air was sweet with the smell of fermenting fruits. The lands stretched from the Grey Mountains to the Blasted plain and all the way up to the Great Oak, this is now all gone. The Undead still bear the armour and heraldry of their former selves, but their skin is now mutated and decaying, they wander the city seeking an answer to their form.

Many have marched through the city in search of Ur-Gold, Fyreslayers and Ogres, Bloodbound and Skaven. Not many escape the clutches of evil. Bretonni people avoid the city, taking huge detours around. Their folklore tells of blood suckers and flesh eaters and tales of a race of the living dead have entered their myth and stories passed down the generations.