Prologue

Attack on Neuspirie.
Date: 3.1.36 of the 6th Era

Neuspirie was a small village situated in the Vast Plains to the north of the island. Its name derives from commonspeak ('Neu' meaning 'new' or 'fresh'), and Palace-talk ('spirie' meaning 'soul' or 'life'). Standing proud in the centre of the village square, and almost as old as the region itself, was The Oak Will Inn which was a large alehouse renowned throughout the land for its strong, vintage alcohol and welcoming atmosphere. The latter also best summarised the nature at which the resident of Neuspirie conducted themselves. Travellers were always met with smiles, aid and shelter should they have need for it. The local merchants – fisherman, hunters and handymen – were always stocked, with wares ranging from fresh Caboar meat and Lotar leaves to candles, undergarments and shaving paste.

The whole village, in its idyllic environment, was a welcome break from the harshness of Whitescorne to the south and Lyresong to the east. The whole island used to share the same climate, same beautiful landscapes and the same wildlife as the Vast Plains, but as the fifth era came to an abrupt end after the mysterious passing of King Io, change did rear its head upon the island. The south became one large sheet of white, as cold as any place in the entire Sphere. Whitescorne, the regions capital, rose from the white barrens and now boasts hardened fighters that protect the city and surrounding hamlets from those that dwell in the blizzard storms. The East, on the other hand, grew thick jungles. As months rolled on, many that could not bear to leave their homes despite the sudden growth of the Dark Jungle began to disappear. A band of warriors left Whitescorne against their Lord's wishes with very little, yet through their meticulous planning and solid discipline, coupled with their brute-like ferocity in combat, they were able to establish the treetop fortress of Lyresong. The residents no longer fear those that stalk the Dark Jungle, yet harbour hatred towards the Lord of Whitescorne for his lack of action; a fact that sadly proves fateful for everyone.

The biggest change, however, came in the West. Lake Elypp, a once glorious spectacle that shined under the giant Sun like a lake of crystals was dried up under veils of darkness. Storms strike the region almost constantly. Thick ash rises from the centre of the once deep lake and screams of torture and pain ring out, at times, in the darkest of hours. Many do not speak the regions name such is the terror people carry towards this newfound wasteland. Hushed voices tell tales of kidnaps, abductions and brutal killings around the area. Masked riders atop rabid horses take anyone and anything that even thinks of walking too close to the land – their home. I have heard them, in people's stories, to be called Harbingers, their mounts Deathsteeds. I, personally, have never seen them, but as I sit amongst the ruins of the once homely Neuspirie, I knew that one day, however soon that may be, I would face the nightmare. I pray for the island, my homeland, but it seems that the threat from within the darkness on Lake Elypp is all too real.
                                                 - Elathor Mosswick