Atela

Our tail begins in Lospar, the Nation of Gold. A title benefiting of it's economic power on the continent of Crisera.   It is here where the Walmir Family reign in their castle of stone, where the Norse and Greek Pantheon's influence meet and blend together, where travelers come to make better lives for themselves.   But for now, this matters not. For this is not yet the story of royalty, gods, and foreign travelers.   No.   This story is of heroes and villains alike, the sculptors of this realm! The ones who shall never die, the ones who leave their mark on the whole of mortal kind, the ones whose actions create this world in all it's terrible, stunning glory.   We look down upon the multiverse, a sea of souls and elements, swirling around a single point.   We fall, three spheres, planes, dimensions, coming into focus. But we only have eyes on one.   Down, down, down we fall. We see the planet of Atela, ignoring all landmasses in place of Crisera.   Down, down, down we go, to the Nation of Gold, focusing on a town.   It is by no means the crown jewel of this land, but the people are wealthy, and the children play in the streets unburdened by the thoughts of what lives in the woods at night.   We circle around the fountain in the public square, weaving our way through the crowd as we race down streets, dash through alleyways, and fly over rooftops.   And it all comes to a halt at a single building.   Large oak woods, the insignia of a sword, laurel, and staff long branded into it with iron.   This is the beginning of our story.   Welcome, to the-   The narration is cut off as a full grown man is thrown out of the front window, screaming as he fell face first into the glass outside.   Oh fuck, they've already started! I mean- Uggghhhh.   The sounds of fighting can clearly be heard even as we hear the flipping of pages.   This can't be right, I'm sure I was... Wait, who the hell are these people?!