The Highlands of Slough

The desolate highlands of the Slough stretched out before Prince Cormag and his companion, Sith, like an endless grave of twisted rock and withered grass. The bleak landscape seemed to swallow all sound, leaving only an oppressive silence that weighed heavily on their shoulders. The duo traversed the barren terrain, their footsteps echoing off the rugged hills as they navigated the treacherous terrain. Cormag, a prince driven by a sense of purpose, gazed out at the unforgiving landscape with a determined glint in his eye. His companion, Sith, walked beside him, her expression a mask of stoicism. Together, they had been searching for what felt like an eternity for the eternal relic, a fabled artifact rumored to lie beneath the grave of the last emperor. According to legend, the relic held the power to manipulate the very fabric of time itself. Cormag's quest was not driven by a desire for power, but by a desperate need to alter the course of his destiny. A prophecy, whispered among the shadows, foretold of his father's demise at the hands of King Takeo. Cormag was determined to prevent this event, to change the course of history and shatter the chains of fate that bound him. As they crested a particularly steep ridge, the wind picked up, carrying with it a mournful dirge that sent shivers down Cormag's spine. The sound was like nothing he had ever heard before – a haunting melody that seemed to emanate from the very spirits of the dead. "What is that?" Sith asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Cormag's eyes scanned the horizon, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. "I don't know," he replied, "but I think we're about to find out." The dirge grew louder, and Cormag could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Suddenly, a figure materialized on the horizon – a wraithlike form that seemed to coalesce from the very mist itself. "Raiders of Never-Ending Misery," Sith breathed, her voice laced with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The Raiders, malevolent spirits born from the darkness of the Slough, began to close in on the duo. Their wails grew louder, a cacophony of sorrow and despair that threatened to consume Cormag and Sith whole. Cormag steeled himself, his grip on his sword tightening. "We need to be careful," he warned Sith. "Those spirits are said to be the harbingers of doom. They torment the weak and proclaim their victory to all who cross their path." Sith nodded, her eyes fixed on the Raiders. "And those who have dared to touch the eternal relic have never returned to their mortal form," she added, her voice barely above a whisper. Cormag's determination hardened into steel. He and Sith would have to navigate the treacherous landscape of the Slough, avoiding the Raiders and other dangers that lurked in the shadows. They would have to make a deal with the spirits, or risk facing the consequences of their wrath. As the Raiders closed in, Cormag and Sith prepared for battle, their hearts pounding in unison with the mournful dirge that seemed to echo through the very fabric of the Slough itself. The fate of their quest, and the course of history, hung precariously in the balance.