<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/ac/8d/e0/ac8de04ae4822c396c89d78cc98c925e.jpg)</div>The Land of Talmassus had been split in two for the past 300 years. To the North in the mountains a kingdom of conquerors existed. Women and men hardened by the harsh extremes in their mountain homes.  To the South lay the great city of Andral, also known as the White City for the stone they carved their walls out of.<br/><br/>Andral lay in a lush valley surrounded by thick forests and the fish rich waters of the Great Sea.  Here their winters were mild and they never wanted for lack of food or medicine and due to this the White City grew by the year. They were not on good terms with their mountain neighbors and thus did not have access to the hardy ores and gems that the area produced. This made their weaponry weaker, their trebuchets more prone to failing.<br/><br/>Centuries came and went with the lands in the north and south in an uneasy truce until one Warlord pushed the bar and decided to take what his people needed to survive. With a military force that Andral could not even began to oppose it seemed inevitable that the mountain folk would win this war and take the fertile lands that Andral was known for. The white city knew this as well and in their desperation turned to a sorceress for assistance. She agreed on the terms she was to have one night with their great king in order to conceive her heir. Using her great magical skill the mountain people began to suffer losses due to random, almost freak accidents. When all was said and done and Andral was secure in their victory the sorceress got her one night and a child was conceived.<br/><br/>The Sorceress would raise the child until she was a young woman away from the Andral with its gleaming white walls until one day she fell ill and died, for magic could not cure all ailments.  The child, a beautiful young woman with hair the color of autumn leaves and strange silvery eyes was sent to the castle to stay until she came of age. However the people feared this strange, magical child.  So on the Eve of her 21ist birthday they banished her from the White City hoping to never hear from her again.<br/><br/>The child, now a woman felt as though she’d been cheated out of her rightful place in the Kingdom began to grow angry and bitter. Then one particular evening as she sat alone in the wilderness a thought came to her head, she would go to the Mountain Folk and offer their Warlord her magic just as her mother had for the King of Andral and using him she would take the throne for herself.<br/><br/>With a new goal fresh in her mind she began the long journey to the Mountains and arrived on one particularly foggy morning. Dressed in a heavy cloak that hid her voluptuous frame from sight she seemed to appear from the mist, jewels glistened on her fingers and at her throat. She paid no mind to the guards passing by them as though she were a ghost and to them she likely was.  With a smirk she entered the dark halls of the Warlords mountain fortress and knelt before him. “Great Warlord of the Northern Lands.” She said in a voice as smooth as silk and as rich as velvet. “I am the Sorceress Gwenevere and I offer to you the chance to reclaim what the white city took from you. Will you hear my offer, I believe it will be of great benefit for both of us.”