The Dark Enchanter

Prologue

After years of turmoil and war, Arishamal, the verdant landmass upon which the kingdoms of man and beast are resident, was at peace.

The Khalisian Wars were receding into history, though many of its scars were still in the process of healing. The threat of the Ürgod and the Scarlet Brotherhood had been successfully addressed and the Deev had been effectively eliminated.

There were still criminal elements and pirates preying upon the weak as they had since time immemorial, but not in great numbers and only in the shadows of civilization where such parasites have always thrived.

The great island landmass of Xenoth, now re-named Asheroth, had been added to the domain of Arishamal and was, for the first time in centuries, drawing huge numbers of immigrants hoping to build a new life in a reborn land.

This time of peace proved prosperous and inspiring. Trade boomed and the pursuit of knowledge and culture thrived. Life and death decisions were replaced by mundane concerns and military needs were replaced by administrative ones.

Life once again slowed its pace and allowed its creatures the luxury of hope and dreams. All in all, it was as though a terrible burden had been lifted and a smiling face once more became a common sight.

But Arishamal was not the only continent on Eylysia. It was but one of many spread across the vast expanse of its deep azure seas.

To the north of Arishamal, past the Borogovian Islands is a land called Lyonisia. A lush and vibrant land of fjords and forests, of fields and glades, of mountain ranges and fish-rich bays, it should, by logic, be a place of good lives and contented creatures, but this was not so.

Fully a third the size of Arishamal, Lyonisia is ruled by a single king and it had been so for three hundred years since the land was first conquered by raiders from the sea.

Superstitious and arrogant, the invaders had taken over the peaceful residents with little mercy and an iron fist, convinced it was their destiny as men to rule the creatures of the land.

Seeing omens in every rain-drop and enemies in every corner, the ruling class suppressed every settlement they found. Within fifty years of their conquest, these rulers, known as the Aesirie, controlled the entire immense coast of the land save the eastern third, building their cities and civilization in an arc around that deep and unexplored section of land, cut off from the remainder of Lyonisia by an immense, sheer and steep wall of natural stone.

This section of land, known as The Forbidden Wild, was home to the unconquered, to the beasts that would not acknowledge the Aesirie as their masters. In response, any creature captured in or near the Wild was imprisoned or killed without the benefit of trial or mercy.

The Aesirie capitol is named Manaheim and stands proudly at the base of a mighty mountain called Fuerish Peak. It overlooks an enormous emerald-green bay packed with ships of war and trade. The city is carved in blue-white marble, mined from nearby quarries by the enslaved beasts of the ruling conquerors. It is a vision of beauty belying the torment and cruelty its construction had incurred.

It was in this land, at this time, that the seed of destiny began to take root, to spread its branches southward toward Arishamal, silently but inexorably drawing salvation towards its bosom.