Elemaran

The 31st of the Month of Saeri, 1595

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Welcome to Elemaran. A land of iron and grass, magic and blood. This world has held peace for a good year now, since the death of Baul. We thought that was it. No more war. The mage-king is dead, and now Syndal will terrorise the world no longer. How wrong we were.

Now without a common enemy, old fears, old hatreds, have stirred up again. We turn on each other, creating a war far greater than anything that had existed before. We called it the War of Eserae, after the little annexation that let it all loose.

It's been a year since I killed that bastard Baul. I thought I could do some good, help everyone. Now my friends are murdering each other. My loyalties are split, and I cannot fight in this war, for once. I do not know what to do. I am racked with guilt. I beg that this war ends before I lose somebody that I love.
— Jay Spinner

A land of steel and magic.

A war tearing apart everything.

The world is no longer simple.

Nations will fall, cities will crumble.

Now we perish, or we live among a pile of bodies.