*WHOOOOOOSH...*
The mountain winds whispered softly, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the crisp breath of morning dew. Far across the horizon, the continent of Aurestia stretched vast and magnificent-like a colossal tapestry woven from threads of light and shadow. According to ancient legend, this world was forged from the shattered remnants of two primordial forces locked in eternal battle.
*Cling! Clang!*
Deep within the Drakarim Mountains, dwarven hammers rang like thunder against steel-relentless, rhythmic, and echoing through stone halls lit by molten fire.
"Hah! This mithril blade can slice steel like it's butter!" roared Thorin, the orange-bearded dwarf, holding up a sword still glowing white with heat. "Who wants it? Only fifty gold coins!"
"That's too expensive, Thorin! What do you think we are-kings?!" grumbled another dwarf, eyeing the shimmering blade. "Thirty coins. Take it or leave it!"
"Hmpf! You fools know nothing of true craftsmanship! Fine... forty!"
Thorin smirked and plunged the blade into a trough of water.
*Tssssssss...*
White steam billowed upward, cloaking the forge in a ghostly mist.
Not far away, the ancient forest of Syl'vanyr swayed as the wind danced through towering trees-trees older than kingdoms, whispering in tones only the ears of elves could hear.
"The wind carries ill tidings from the south," murmured Silvanos the Elven sentinel, his silver eyes narrowing. His long pointed ears twitched with wary instinct.
"Grroowww..."
Beside him, a great white wolf growled, fur bristling like winter snow caught in a storm.
"Easy, Fenris. We will wait and see," Silvanos stroked the wolf's head.
"Elves do not act in haste."
*SPLASH! SPLASH!*
In Eldmere-the grand harbor city of the Solmare Kingdom-mighty ships rocked gently upon the eastern tide. Sailors shouted in a dozen tongues, unloading sacks of spice from deep within the hulls.
"Hoy! Handle those clove crates gently!" barked a bearded captain. "If they fall into the sea, you'll pay for every grain!"
"Aye aye, Captain!" one sailor groaned, wiping sweat from his brow.
"But these are heavy as boulders-must weigh a hundred kilograms!"
"That's because all you eat is fried dough! Not a muscle among the lot of you!"
But beyond the glow of civilization lay Liara Feran-The Land That Defies the Gods-untamed wilderness where feral creatures roamed freely. Goblins, foul and wicked, with glowing red eyes, scuttled through the underbrush, cackling with depraved delight.
"Kekekeke... tomorrow we raid the village again!" hissed one, sharpening his rusted knife. "Human women... soft and sweet!"
"Yesss! The last one tasted delicious!" drooled another, licking thick saliva from his cracked lips. "We will make many little goblins with them!"
*THOOM! THOOM! THOOM!*
Farther still, titanic trolls stomped across the valley, each footstep shaking the earth like thunder. Their dull eyes scanned hungrily for prey-anything unlucky enough to become dinner.
High above, shadows swept across the skies.
Dragons-though smaller than the mountain-sized ancients of legend-still soared with wings vast and terrible.
"ROAAAAAAAR!"
A single roar rolled across cliffs and forest, sending birds scattering in terrified flight while small beasts fled to their burrows.
---
***A Hundred Years Ago - Aurestia's Age of Darkness***
*CLAAAANG! CRASH!*
The golden skies of Aurestia burned red-not from dusk, but from the fires of war consuming the land. In Thornwick Valley, armies of men slaughtered one another in endless conquest.
"FOR THE GLORY OF VALDORIA!"
Commander Marcus raised his sword high, silver armor gleaming though stained with blood.
"FORWARD! SHOW THEM OUR MIGHT!"
"Ha! Valdoria breeds only cowards!" bellowed General Blackwood of Solmare, swinging a dragon-carved war axe. "SOLDIERS OF SOLMARE! CRUSH THEM!"
*WHOOOOSH-BOOOOM!*
Massive fireballs tore through the sky-hurled by battle mages perched atop wooden towers. Explosions carved craters into the earth, turning grass to ash.
"Damn it! They have an archmage!" cried a young knight, shield splintering under magical shockwaves. Sweat dripped down his terrified face. "We need reinforcements!"
*TROMP! TROMP! TROMP!*
From the north came heavy, thunderous footsteps. The Orc clans of the wild marched in brutal formation-towering beasts of muscle, scars, and savage tattoos.
"GRAAAAGH! WHO PAYS US TODAY?!" roared Gorak, the Orc Chieftain, yellow fangs glinting as he grinned.
"Ten sacks of gold for every enemy head!" shouted General Aldwin, tossing a heavy purse. "Kill anyone wearing red!"
"GRAAGH! A DEAL!"
Gorak snatched the gold.
"ORCS! FEAST ON FLESH TONIGHT!"
Meanwhile in the underground kingdom of Drakarim, the dwarves rejoiced-gleeful at mankind's misery.
"Hahaha! Business has never been better!" Thorin cheered, stacking piles of gold. "Swords, axes, crossbows-sold out!"
"Thorin! Aetherion has ordered a thousand more blades!" cried another dwarf.
"EXCELLENT! Let humans slaughter themselves! As long as our pockets overflow!"
In Syl'vanyr, elven elders gathered beneath a colossal world-tree, ancient as time.
"Human war has gone too far," said Elder Silvanos, beard of silver swaying. "The land trembles. The trees grow unsettled."
"We cannot interfere," muttered Elder Moonwhisper. "This is the price of greed."
"But the blood they spilled poisons the earth..." whispered a young elven guard. "Flowers near the border wither and turn black..."
Silvanos's eyes dimmed with sorrow.
"We shall wait. Humans will either learn... or perish."
---
***The Chaos Spreads***
What was expected to last months dragged into decades. Cities crumbled. Farmlands burned. Corpses littered fields. The stench of death carried for miles, drawing scavengers from Liara Feran.
*Sniff... sniff...*
"Kekeke... scent of death... delicious..." a goblin giggled, stepping atop a fallen knight. "Feast time!"
"Let us raid the empty villages!" shrieked another. "The men are all dead!"
*CRASH! BANG!*
They swarmed Millbrook Village-doors smashed, windows shattered, women screaming.
"SOMEBODY HELP US!"
A mother hugged her daughter close, tears streaming down her face.
"Kekekeke! No one will come!"
The goblin licked his blade.
"All your men are crow-food!"
"MAMA! I'M SCARED!"
"Sshh... don't be afraid, my love..."
The mother trembled, voice nearly breaking.
Elsewhere, trolls trampled wheat fields nearing harvest.
*STOMP! STOMP!*
"GROAAAAH! FOOD!"
One ripped an apple tree from the ground. CRUNCH! CRACK!
"GROAAAH! TASTY!"
Another devoured a sheep whole, blood dripping from massive teeth.
Werewolves hunted in packs-claws gleaming beneath moonlight.
"Awooooo! Fresh meat!"
They tore through cattle, spraying gore across the night.
Worst of all was the battlefield...
"Mm... warm corpses..." hissed a goblin chief, prodding a knight's body.
"Which part do you want?"
"The fatty ones! Human thighs taste best!"
*Munch... crunch... slurp...*
Bones snapped. Blood pooled. The dead were devoured like cattle.
---
***Hall of Kings - The Turning of History***
After decades, the rulers of men realized victory would never come. Their kingdoms crumbled. Their people starved. Monsters marched toward their capitals.
*Tok... tok.... tok...*
The sound of a wooden staff echoed through the marble floors of the Hall of Kings-a majestic fortress built where human and elven lands met.
Marble pillars soared toward a domed ceiling painted with scenes of unity and peace. Walls gleamed with sacred carvings.
"At last, you have come to your senses," sighed Elder Silvanos, stroking his silver beard. His sea-blue eyes glowed with both disappointment and compassion.
King Aldric of Valdoria-hair graying, crown heavy upon his weary brow-spoke first.
"We... we have lost too much. My people starve. My soldiers lie dead. Monsters gather at our gates..."
"Solmare suffers the same," murmured King Marcus, scarred and hollow-eyed. "Our harbors are empty. Trade is dead."
"And the Orcs now demand payment," added King Edmund of Aetherion. "If we refuse... they will burn every border village."
Elder Moonwhisper cleared his throat softly.
"We warned you of this fate," he said with calm reproach. "The world has its own balance."
"What do we do now?" King Marcus whispered.
"How do we stop this?"
Moonwhisper's silver gaze hardened.
"By performing the rarest of all human miracles... forgiveness."
"We shall witness your pact," said Silvanos.
"And bind it with elven magic for generations to come."
The three kings exchanged long, burdened looks.
"...Very well," Aldric breathed.
"Valdoria will make peace."
"Solmare as well," Marcus agreed.
"Aetherion too," Edmund whispered, tears welling.
The elders lifted their carved staves and chanted in ancient elven tongue:
"Syl'thara nim elenion... ancalima i'ngurth..."
(Let peace flow... light in the darkness...)
Glow... shimmer...
Golden light filled the hall, warm as spring sunlight-binding the oath forever.
And thus, a new age began.
---
***A Hundred Years Later - The Peaceful Village of Brunfield***

*Chirp chirp chirp...*
Morning birdsong broke the gentle silence. Dawn spilled golden light across the rolling green hills and straw roofs of Brunfield Village.
A picture of peace-simple wooden homes with thin smoke drifting from chimneys, wheat fields dancing in the breeze, dirt roads dotted with goat and sheep prints. The aroma of freshly baked bread floated from open windows.
*Moo... moo...*
Plump cows ambled toward pasture, tails swatting lazily at flies. Chickens scurried through gardens searching for worms.
*Kukuruyuuuk!*
In a small wooden cottage near the forest, a boy of fifteen slept soundly upon a soft straw mattress. His silver hair was tousled, a lock draped over his gentle yet determined face.
Oliver Keenan Ryhardian-a name carved from both hope and sorrow-snored softly, mouth slightly open.
"Mmph... nooo... Keenan... don't take my bread..." he mumbled in a dream, hands groping for something unseen. "Last loaf... mine..."
*Knock knock knock!*
"OLIVER! WAKE UP, YOU BRAT!"
The peaceful morning shattered beneath a thunderous voice.
Old Harlan, sixty years of age, stood at the door with a steaming bowl of porridge. Snow-white hair tied messily, face wrinkled with both irritation and affection.
*Knock knock knock!*
"Don't pretend you're still asleep! I know you're awake! Sun's already high! Do you plan to be a lazy good-for-nothing forever?!"
"Ngggh... five more minutes, Grandpa Harlan..." Oliver groaned, pulling a thin blanket over his head. "Still sleepy..."
"FIVE MORE MINUTES, MY FOOT! You said that yesterday too and slept till noon!"
Harlan banged his cane against the door.
"Open up before I break it down!"
"Ugh... fine, fine... I'm coming..."
Oliver sat up, hair wild like a bird's nest.
"Why are you yelling at dawn..."
---