They say the sky wept the night the Ashbinders vanished.
A thousand years ago, the gods made a pact with flame. In the heart of the Obsidian Vale, four warriors rose marked not by birthright, but by fire. Their bodies bore the sigils of ancient power, carved by ash and bound by oath. They were the first of the Ashbinders keepers of the world's most volatile magic, protectors of the balance between creation and ruin.
And then, one day, they disappeared.
Not in battle. Not by death. They vanished mid-gambit, mid-fight, mid-promise. The last record of them is a whisper in the Book of Cinders: "The flame folds in on itself. What is bound may one day unbind."
Since then, kingdoms rose and fell. Magic fractured, corrupted, bled into war. The world began to forget.
But the world should not have.
Because deep beneath the ruins of Aevoras, something stirs. The ashes are shifting. And someone something is calling the Ashbinders back.
They are not the same.
And neither is the game.
This is the gambit that will burn through time and truth.
The Ashbinders are returning.
And not all of them are on the same side.