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Welcome to a world of lost Empires, of struggling and scheming monarchies, a place where spirits bloom and demons prowl the darkness. Where dragons fly in the East across the sea and where gods walk the earth in the West. Welcome to Denmoria. A Western country divided only by what the Kingdom can and cannot claim. Above the land stretches a river of light; golden, green, blue and purple—shimmering brightest at night, but always there watching over Denmoria. It is commonly accepted among the people here that this river, the skystream, is the beginning and end of all things. A place we go to when we die and where new possibilities are born. It is the collective voice of the people’s ancestors, and something beyond comprehension…   To the south-east lies a civilised nation. Arcatera is the true seat of power, ruled by a long lasting bloodline who were chosen to rule by divine wisdom. But that story is for another time. In a recent attempt to conquer more of the Northern Wilds—its secrets guarded by the drakons and elves who refuse to be ruled by a Kingdom of false gods—Denmoria’s King was killed in battle. The royal court is abuzz with false sympathies; courtiers and emissaries seeking the widow Queen’s favour, all hoping to be her next husband or married to one of her children.   But the common people don’t care about the Kingdom’s borders or who sits on the throne, so long as the fighting stays away from their towns and villages. Their concerns are with the Mists. The Gods who walk among their land, taking and giving in equal measure. The ten different Mists are needed to keep the world sane, their voices command the fabric of reality. If one of them calls you to your destiny or for their own purposes, the summon is absolute.   Our story starts smaller than Kingdom wars or following the whims of the Mists. We begin in Tucapon. A city based beneath the Star Metal Mountains, close to the Kingdom’s border with the Northern Wilds. It was once an elvish city but conquered by the Denmorian Kingdom almost a century ago. The city’s wealth is founded in its rich moonstone mines, its goby fishing, and for the staunch horses bred in the surrounding foothills.   The Lord Mayor, Eresin, oversees the city administration with growing paranoia. After the King’s death, he fears the elves and drakons from the Northern Wilds will be emboldened to push back harder against the Kingdom. As such, soldiers have been ordered to bolster the City Guard and stationed among the mountain passes. But rebellion is the least of their problems. The death toll is rising. No sword can stop a plague...or can it?

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