The Algarve hordes in a dark stream roll along the stylish plains of Unkerlant, approaching the outskirts of the ancient capital. Where weapons are powerless, where the dragon flame and the unstoppable step of the monsters chained in armor cannot break the desperate and hopeless resistance, magic spells come into play. The ground is torn like a canvas. The blood of thousands of innocent victims feeds murderous spells, and wizards throughout Derlaway and beyond are writhing in anguish, enduring the suffering of the unfortunate. The invaders, who have subjugated almost the entire continent, claim that the hated and despicable Kaunians are brought to the front line only as auxiliary workers. Unkerlant, in order to cope with the enemy, there is nothing left but to find an equally inexhaustible source of victims. Soldiers and partisans, conquerors and conquered - all look with horror at how darkness thickens over the tormented earth.