<span class="bbc_u"><strong>Chapter 01: World on Fire</strong></span><br/><br/>Legends speak of a time when green crossed hills and valleys, when life flourished, when the worst man had to fear during a day was a heavy rain. Old tales speak of an age of plenty, where magic, food, shelter and people were all more abundant. Time when the light of the Sun still shone upon this world, when its passing illuminated all, and when the clouds were a sign of rain that came and went, not a darkness that persisted for months.<br/><br/>Its easy to lose hope when even those who have lived the longest only remember the burned ashes of this world. The names are spoken in whispers, Cho'den the dark mage, and the Paladin-Sorcerer that fought against him. Legends tell that it was their battle that left the gargantuan crater beneath where the new sun now shines, strong enough to shine at least<em>some</em>light on this otherwise desolate world, when the old sun's light was drowned by the dark clouds long before the apocalyptic battle between the two strongest began.<br/><br/>The world is a dangerous place, and few travel outside their communities. City-States that seek to defend themselves and isolate themselves from the rest of the world, raising tall walls for their own protection and trying to keep strangers outside most of the time. So it has come to the point that many villages and hamlets are only a distant memory, ruins and ashes. There are a few towns scattered along the lands, their names often forgotten to all but those that live within them, and some places have lost the need for a name entirely. Home is home.<br/><br/>Yet within these dark times, few dare to travel, and a few share rumors, share news, telling about what is going on elsewhere and trying to sometimes breathe hope into the people.<br/><br/>Recently, a loud rumor has been spreading that the Ancient Sage that once stood up to help create the Second Sun that has kept Enthropy away from the<em>core</em>of the world at least has been seen at the ancient city of Havenguard. So many have packed their things, and set out on that long journey. Hoping to find something that could change this desolate wasteland, that could bring hope, when words at the borders of the light is that more and more communities vanish silently into the night, and each passing day, a chaotic, wild region of borderland comes closer. The light of the second sun dimming, the light of the first no longer even seen. The end is coming, little by little, every day ahead another step closer to the grave.<br/><br/>Standing up are only few heroes, and many that came before them have perished. Now, at the town of<em>Steelhome</em>, a gathering of people due north towards the Havenguard is preparing. Its 24 miles from Steelhome to Havenguard, perhaps less for mages that might know the right magics, but with the closeness of the crater site, and the proximity to the grounds where Cho'den and Paladin-Sorcerer once fought, its whispered to be safer to travel the old ways. Ever since the great magics were unleashed, this region itself has been corrupt, anything upto 50 miles away from the great crater is.<br/><br/>Havenguard itself stood within 48 miles of that, barely into its corrupted, twisted region, but there still. That made it, despite its name, less of a haven and more of a deathtrap yet the town had stood for centuries, ever since the great battle between Cho'den and Paladin-Sorcerer. If there indeed was a man with answers, or even the great Sage, it would be there that he or she might be found.<br/><br/>So as people were packing, and a set of wagons had been prepared, the old man spoke seriously to those gathered. "Alright, we have here these wagons to carry barrels of water and food for those who are coming, I don't have much but it should feet a dozen people. I am betting my life on this, and I will appreciate it if you can all keep that safe." He was a worn, wrinkled old man, a former shopkeeper that had taken up the rumor of hope with a strong belief as well.<br/><br/>Usually, big groups just made big targets, and few were willing to travel in the first place. This time, it seemed that luck had graced him, for two former adventurers had volunteered in exchange for those rations and water to help the old man and his wagons reach the destination safely. That left enough food for 9 more people, but there had seemed to be no takers.<br/><br/>At least, not until a few hours ago, just as they had been preparing to get on the road.<br/><br/>The first of the two adventurers was called<em>Ash</em>and was known danger to his surroundings, perhaps a reason he was leaving this town behind as well. Ash was a battlemage, but not a very strong one. He had apparently adventured only long enough to drop a fireball on the rest of his team to save his own life when they were about to be overrun. Nobody liked Ash after that, and the rumors had travelled far. Yet the old man had been desperate.<br/><br/>The other man was called<em>Cidan</em>and wore a white mask on his face. On request, he removed it to reveal a badly burnt face, but few asked to see it anymore, so he usually left it in place. He didn't speak much, but the size of the greataxe he carried said something about his strength. Dressed in a breastplate with more than a few scratches, he was an odd figure, but nobody in the town knew much about Cidan. Like some others, he had come after the rumor of the Sage.<br/><br/>So that was who were coming. People that were still clinging on hope, in a world that had given up on hope long ago.