Ahh, sweet bliss and jitters of the spine.
Enter into the crypt yard, feet stepping warily as the moon lights the fog covered necropolis. Wary steps, and shifty glances, and Skeletal hands, reaching for freedom as our hero's leap in fright at the sight. The vast caverns of hell our found full this eve, and the dead walk the earth in formation, Our hero's the only hope of standing against them. With grim determination, and steadfast resolve, they lay into the walking undead, their struggle more akin to a fine dance in the night with death itself as foe after foe falls, only to rise again.
A reprieve, short lived though it is, shows itself as the crawling bones, and slithering corpse halt. They eye our adventurer's hungrily and warily as their numbers build up once more, their forces surging forth into the next routine of dance like slaughter as our stalwart hero's hold out till only the Light of day and the grace of Heaven raise their noble heads and cast away the vile army of the dead.
Sitting on yonder hill the stoic Wratih watches as his hard work is fought to a stand still, bones breaking, and rotting limbs falling from their sockets as these few humans hold his would be army within the necropolis. What drives them, what compels these noble souls to stand in defiance of the terror that his army is? What drives them to hold back the tide of thousands with but a half dozen people? What is it that keeps them going long into the night!? Each new wave of the dead washing over them, and yet still none escape the gates of the crypt lands, and not one of these living defenders has fallen to his numbers.
As the first glimpse of heavens dawn breaches the comfort of the night, the Wraith sighs irritably and withdraws to the catacombs beneath to rest, and ponder the spectacle he watched this night. He felt as the Hero's finally began to fell his forces, their corrupt magic that fueled them dissipating in the purifying light of day, and within an hour of day break, his army was no more. And standing in that morning light, six tired, weary, and battered adventurer's watched in joy and pride as the dawns light blessed their victory over the dead.
Our Hero, the young man, surrounded by his friends, his journey far from over, smiled, glad to be with such stalwart friends and companions. His mind and heart at ease, and even the looming grandness of his journey yet to come could not shake his resolve after this night alongside his friends.
-- Simply wonderous, and fulfilling. While it is clearly built upon the sample I heard, this is a whole nother direction of hackle raising grandeur than what the Demo promised, and I am gleefully embracing it and its musical glory. Tiny Piano has another of my, uh, Reviews, if you can call these that. I look forward to hearing more.