Wind was blowing across a dark landscape, a landscape darker than the heart of men. The wind, were it conscious, would have noticed the many dark, twisted trees, devoid of leaves. The brown, grass, dead or dying. Across many hills and mountains, the wind would have noticed something. Something frightening. Mankind was eternally at war, in this world. Not with each other, but with creatures of the night. This world, called Innistrad by those that lived here, was home to vampires and spirits. Werewolves and zombies. These creatures of evil sought to end the human race, yet the humans, though fewer in number, held their own, and have done so for many years. It was in a small, humble village, where the story began, and Innistrad came to encounter something it hadn't seen in many years. A Planeswalker. Regeil appeared a few miles outside of town, where he had been instructed to do so. Specifically, he was in the woods outside the town, though these woods appeared dead by any means. He had been told by a mysterious force to come here, to find others who would aid him in accomplishing his goal. And so, he decided, he would arrive. Of course, the moment he did so, he summoned two Dragon whelps at his side, should he stumble into a trap. He seemed alone, however. For the time being. He grimaced at the smell in the air, the smell of decay. He noticed many of the trees were almost rotting, and that what few plants that poked out of the ground were riddled with obvious signs of disease. What was this place? All Regeil knew was that this place was named Innistrad. He knew nothing else of it. He made his way around the immediate area in a circle, looking for any signs of life aside from himself and his two Dragons. He always felt the pull of the summon, as the Dragons fought against his magical hold on them. But they were too weak to break free, and so remained under his control. Their bodies, filled with Red Mana, emitted a light that was as effective as a torch. Each flew at one of his sides, the only sound from them being the flapping of their wings or the occasional burst of smoke from their nostrils. But aside from them, nothing living seemed to stir. And so Regeil waited for the ones he was told to meet. He assumed they would be Planeswalkers, at the very least, and ones against the Guild. Otherwise, they were of no use to him. Only a Planeswalker could truly fight another Planeswalker. Regular mortals were simply too weak. Although there were exceptions, of course. But those were few and far between.