Neverwinter's Darkest Hour

"Help! Can someone help me? I'm hurt!"

"Ahhh! Guards! There are demons here!"

"Damn it! Can someone tell me what the hell is going on? How did these Drow get into the city?"

"Great Tyr, God of Justice, please bring down divine punishment and kill these evil monsters."

"This is bad! Several blocks to the east have already fallen. At this rate, we're all going to die."

Amid all manner of pleas for help and panicked cries, Neverwinter, the Pearl of the Northland, had completely entered its darkest hour.

Although sturdy iron gates had been installed between several districts because of the plague that had raged previously, the nearby guards had immediately chosen to shut them and cut off contact between the city's districts the moment they sensed something was wrong.

But that was clearly useless against demons capable of teleportation and flight.

The Drow could also move freely through the city using magic and the sewers.

The only ones stopped were the fleeing civilians, along with criminals whose inner darkness had been amplified by the chaos, sending them into a frenzy of arson, murder, and looting.

And because everything had happened so suddenly, Neverwinter's defenders had already been few in number and scattered throughout the streets on patrol to maintain order. They simply could not organize an effective counterattack.

Worse still, the Drow assassins' premeditated killings had wiped out all the prominent and capable Neverwinter officials who could have stepped forward to stop the chaos and lead the soldiers.

Even Tyr's temple had come under siege from demons.

Many low-ranking officers, such as captains, had no idea what to do. They could only lead a handful of soldiers to hold their ground while waiting for reinforcements, or provide civilians with what little protection they could.

Of course, all