The warring Clandoms of Ingalia know nothing of their mutual peril. They have forgotten the banished one, cast in an eternal, yet ever more uneasy, slumber. They have forgotten Scrode, the Dark Prince of Blackness. Scrode, who has slept for uncountable aeons in the swirling island fastness of Balge.

    Somewhere amidst those unsupporting mists, somewhere behind the dank walls of Balge, somewhere near Scrode's baneful bed, lies his nightstand. And on his nightstand, spellset to maintain his slumber, sits a book of infinite evil, a noisome tome whose bonds of sorcery will soon hold all the Clans of Ingalia in thrall. The mightsome Cavorticon.

    Written by Scrode's mother, the maleficent demi-goddess Poisibblia, the Cavorticon has not been used since Enemius, the Great Clansman, with the aid of the Lords and Ladies of all Clans, turned Poisibblia's own power against her, chaining her to a rock beneath the sea and banishing her son to eternal sleep.

   Yet that age of peaceable fellowship has passed away and the Clans, having fallen back to petty warring, are no longer as one. And whose voice is that whispering in the waves that lap against Balge's timorous walls, drawing Scrode from his necromantic slumber? Soon he will arise and claim the Cavorticon. Soon Clan maidens will cavort with gibbering demons. Soon the risen dead will cavort with the risen moon. And innocent children will cavort with a band of debauched talking farm animals, the Stable Horde.

    Can Benemius, direct descendent of Enemius the Great Clansman, reunite the warring clans and destroy the Cavorticon, and all of Scrode's fulsome malice? Or has the last sane dawn risen over Ingalia?

Start the quest in...Dark Voice Lapping

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