Alaloth.champions.of.the.four.kingdomsv.2022.09... -

Kaelen didn't answer with words. He raised his sword, the blue light flaring into a blinding white sun. He thought of the hearth fires in Edrath, the whispered songs of Goldwood, and the steady beat of dwarven hammers. He wasn't fighting for a throne or for glory. He was fighting so that the year 2022.09 wouldn't be the last entry in the history of the world.

The Four Kingdoms were in chaos. To the north, the Dwarves of Karak-Hohn had shuttered their mountain gates, suspicious of the shadows lengthening in their deep tunnels. To the east, the Republic of Larastir struggled to keep its forest borders from being overrun by the twisted remains of those who had ventured too close to the rift. The humans of Edrath were fractious, their lords more concerned with ancient bloodlines than the impending god-fall. Alaloth.Champions.of.The.Four.Kingdomsv.2022.09...

In the heart of the Fifth Kingdom, where the veil between worlds was thinnest, they found the altar. It was a monolith of obsidian, pulsing with the heartbeat of a trapped deity. As Kaelen stepped forward, the ground shook. A voice, ancient and resonant like grinding stones, echoed in his mind. Kaelen didn't answer with words

Kaelen stood at the edge of the Stonebow Bridge, the gateway to the Kingdom of Edrath. He was no king, though he wore the sigil of a forgotten house on his battered cuirass. He was a champion, chosen not by divine right but by the sheer will to survive the monsters now roaming the high roads. In his hand, he gripped a blade forged in the heat of the Iron Mountains, its edge humming with a faint, blue light. He wasn't fighting for a throne or for glory