"The uncountable worlds of our universe swirl in a endless Abyss. Many worlds ravaged by time or conflict are swallowed by the Abyss, returned to the nothingness from which they were formed. But others linger for eternity on the brink of annihilation, that Creation might be balanced with Destruction. And in the final moment of battle, Death was banished to one such world, his child sent away rom him-the world in the autumn of its life, yet not far from the edge of darkness. Had Death been sent to his doom? That answer would be found in the Horseman's future-and in is past."

 "Be still Horseman. You are wounded." An elderly paladin said, running a gentle and old finger over the nephilim's chest where the shards of the amulet had made their home. Death got up and backed away from him.

 "Don't touch me!" He growled threateningly. The paladin smiled wearily and walked away, his staff clinking as he walked.

 "Your arrival here is a bad omen. Yes... troubles me greatly." He mumbled, running his beard through his large and old hand, looking up at a statue that Death did not recognize.

 "Old one-there's more trouble ahead if you don't start making sense. Where is the Tree of Life? And where is my daughter?" Death demanded, only now noticing Whisper's absence. He took a look around, hoping to see her sitting on a boulder, or laying in the grass.

 "You arrived alone, pale rider. Your daughter never arrived." The old one said, continuing to walk away, but then he stopped and looked over at Death.

 "Life?" He said, a rumbly and unsteady laugh emitting from his large and quaky form.

 "This world is dying, lad. Choking on the chaos and Corruption. We can do little to stop it." He said, his eyes boring sadness and what Death recognized as regret. Death looked around once more, unnerved without knowing where Whisper was.

 "Soon the great tree too shall perish and, with it, the last of my people." The elder said, ignoring the concern and anxiety of the feared rider. Death finally looked over at him, deciding to worry over his daughter later.

 "Is that not what brought you here, pale rider?" He asked. Death narrowed his eyes at him.

 "I seek the tree. Your "chaos and corruption" don't concern me." When the words were spoken, soldiers of black goo and magic formed, charging at Death. He heard the old one chuckle from where he stood when Death killed the first two.

 "It seems they do concern you." He said with amusement. Death growled and cut down the last one.

 "You fight well. But this Corruption can't be beaten with a blade." The old one said when Death walked over.

 "Seek out the Forge Sister. Ask her about the Fire of the Mountain. Help her, and she will help you reach the tree. As for me, I must return to my work."

 "And who are you to command a rider?" Death asked arrogantly, not liking to be bossed around.

 "I am a maker. Older than even the Charred Council. These hands have laid the foundations for many worlds. But that was long ago. And now they but hardly know the touch of stone." He said proudly, dropping his voice to a sorrowful tone at the end.

 "Are you not curious of why I seek the Tree?" Death asked.

 "I would not presume a question one of the Six-but yes, tell me." He said, leaning on his large staff with interest.

 "I must restore Humanity-to redeem my brother War." Death said.

 "Heaven and Hell battle upon the shattered Earth. All creation trembles, and at the center of it all stands your brother." The old one said. Death narrowed his eyes.

 "He is innocent." Death said, repeating the words his daughter had stated to the Crowfather.

 "I never said he wasn't." He pointed out. Death looked away for a moment, his eyes thoughtful.

 "The Tree holds power over life and Death. If you would resurrect Humanity, then you are headed in the right direction. Be warned-a dark presence dwells within the Tree and the path is barred by Corruption." He said, his voice weary. Death sighed and turned away to leave, making his way through a strange underpass.

 Death couldn't help but still worry over Whisper. Where had she gone? She wouldn't leave him.. Whisper wouldn't abandon her father, especially when he arrived in such a state.

 He walked through a large hollowed out tree to cross to the other side. He kept a hand close to the handle of his scythe when he saw a large maker, his size similar to the old one. He was swinging and doing different well trained moves on the training targets.

 "Need to find the Forge Sister." Death mumbled to himself, spotting two sets of stair ways. He saw sparks flying in the building with the sounds of a banging hammer.

 Death jogged up them and saw a tall woman with scarlet red hair with trinkets and other tools attached to her red apron.

 "Are you the Forge Sister?" Death asked when he walked over to her.

 "Maker's beard, the rumors are true! A Horseman in the Forge Lands!" She exclaimed. Death rolled his eyes. How long had they known about him being here?

 "The name's Alya, and that's my brother, Valus. We are the keepers of this forge. Tho' I reckon that means less now, than it once did." Alya said sadly.

 "This is a Maker's Forge?" Death asked sarcastically, it was rather small.

 "Nay. The Maker's Forge is lost to us. Silenced by the hands of Corruption. But in its depths we once crafted the Dark Towers of Hell and the Cities of Heaven." Alya said, memories flickering in her eyes of those times.

 "Now you make... trinkets?" Death asked, gesturing to her attire. She looked down at him with an angry look.

 "And you-one of the six-now seek the aid of the makers?" She sneered. Alya chuckled and continued when Death growled.

 "I guess we have all fallen from high places." Death ignored her remarks, not wanting to kill the remainder of them over her attitude.

 "I came here seeking the Tree, and your elder speaks of Fire." Death persisted.

 "What is it?"

 "Aye, the Fire of the Mountain-the Stonefather's Blood-it once flowed into our forge as did the tears. Both imbued our crafts with incredible power. The Heart and Soul of Stone. But Corruption has taken them, and now our forge is silent." Alya finished. Death had a sudden thought, what if corruption had taken Whisper? He knew of the importance of these maker's world and work, but his kin were to come first.

 "Why does this concern me?"

 "The way to the fire is lost, barred by Corruption. you can no more leave this place than we. Restore our forge, and the Tree can be reached." Alya said.

 "I don't follow your reasoning."

 "We're Makers, not warriors-but we are not without our weapons. Before the Forge was lost, we crafted a mighty creature of soul and stone... a colossus to fight this corruption." Alya said.

 "Then I am off." Death said, leaving the small forge to begin this quest.