I walk across a landscape, barren and silent. The shadows creep across blasted rocks and flesh colored clouds entangle the sky above me. The sound of wild animals is something only remembered as a child or imitated by my forefathers. Before me, in the stillness of eternal night, stretches Odland, the Wasteland of the Hellmouth.

All I have now on my valiant quest are my remaining companions: a dwarf weapon smith with glowing weapons and armor powered by the magic of the Lost Gods; a halfling in the clanking body of a Clockwork Knight Battlesuit with the power of a giant; an elven Wilder Scout, as swift as the wind with a marksmanship legends will tell stories of; and, a celestial with the power of the stars in its eyes and the energy of life pulsating at his finger tips. I are a Knight of the Chalice and my life’s training led me to this day.

In the distance, across the desolate terrain, rises a constantly flowing beam of light out of a wound in the earth. Pieces of stones float like globules of blood into the swirling clouds above. It is the mark of the Hellmouth itself, seen from hundreds of miles away–-a sign of warning to all who see it.

I may not be able to see them from this distance, but the sounds of screaming souls shifting around the column like moths attracted to a gaslight lantern invade my mind. The tormenting cackles of the demons that continue to kill them for pleasure chills the marrow in my bones. Dragons no longer return here since the Hellfire Wars, but here I stand–me and my allies–ready to walk forth into history, with no one to tell my story.

We look one last time at each other, and without speaking a word, we march towards the beacon of death. We all know there will be no rewards for our actions, and yet we do them–not because we can defeat all evil entirely, or even some of it temporarily. We do it because, hopefully, for a couple more minutes, we will give the rest of the world a few less things to worry about.

We do it because we’re heroes.