Of course, the two had lived alongside each other for untold millenia, each in fear of the other. As one advanced the other suffered, a constant battle for survival which seemed unending. For the last few hundred years the Unnamed had gained the upper hand, despite the human advantages of fire, weaponry, increasing adaptabilty to extreme environments the cruel intelligence and ferocity of the Unnamed was too much for them.

Now humanity had been tamed. Many had reverted to nothing more than wild animals. Those who remained free were nomads, constantly on the move.. finding a new refuge each night.. covering their tracks as best as they could. There were also rumours of the Hidden Ones, human practitioners of blood magic.. burrowed away safely beneath the earth. Their magic served two purposes, that of protection and of seeking out knowledge from the ancients. Summoning the dead required blood and so the Hidden Ones made raids on the nomadic tribes that remained for sacrificial victims.

The result was like ouroboros.. a serpent consuming itself to survive. Each reviled the other but ultimately could not survive without the other.. the Hidden Ones provided the destraction necessary for the nomads to hold onto their tenuos thread of survival. The nomads provided the blood necessary for the magic.. and the Unnamed consumed them both tirelessly.