Prologue
ALMASA CITY, ALINSU TERRITORY.
ISLAND of RAYISA, WORLD of DIYAR.
The High King's Quarters
"Swund, Swund, I need to make a speech. I need to address my people, they are in a looming danger of inevitable chaos. I am passing away into Bayeda, Alinsu needs their king. By God, Rayisa needs its High King!" The High King uttered, suffering to connect words as he was coughing sharply, his back against the frame of his bed. Before him stood an old woman that was of no healthier appearance.
"No my dear, they can't never see you in such state. Their final image of you must not be that of a weak, frail king. High King, killed by old age's illness. They can't, it will not be good for.." she stopped, horror drawn upon her wrinkled face.
"It will not be good for WHOM??? The Child you never GAVE ME? The heir I so bloody deserved, the Man I so needed to exist and sit on my Throne? DAMN IT SWUND! Get out! Get out now!"
She smiled, soft liquids dropping from her eyes as she slowly walked out, "yes your Highness."
The High King was extremely ill, and with no true heir to replace him, a chaos was bound to unravel all throughout the territories. A once fierce grip is about to loosen, if it is not the fall of forced unity between the Races and factions; it will be the bloodbath race to claim the High King's seat that will shatter Rayisa.
The Capital City of Almasa is relatively peaceful, despite the rumors of the High King's slow imminent death spreading all throughout the Island. Much of the current peace is credited to the heavy Imperial presence within the city walls, and outside all over the borders of the City's rural provinces. Much of the Alinsu territory is also in a peaceful state, however a growing tension is present, people with power or grudges are looking the High King's seat with greedy eyes.
The Northern Territory of Qahila is pretty much occupied with the usual beast attacks, barbarian fights between mutant humans and the tribes of Orcs living in towns under the hot sun. The Eastern Valleys of Ghelanard, lands of the Orcs are having their own conflicts that are about to be expanded and merged with the overall chaos.
Nothing is heard of what goes on in the Southern forests of Aljaan, the Elven Society seems pretty indifferent. They are only after their own kind, but the openness of the High King's seat is not to be taken lightly, or ignored.
In the West, the deadlands of Ardumwat, a mysterious evil is brewing slowly, indifferent to whatever turmoil is about to be unleashed into the Island.