Long, long ago, far before the kingdoms of the land were as we know them today, the land was infested with evil and dark magic. Going further than the eye can see, the evil destroyed all in its path, leaving nothing but ruination wherever it went. For many moons, this dragged on, the darkness slowly engulfing more and more as time passed, and causing all creatures to cower in fear before its forces.

After years and years of such torment, when it had seemed that all hope had finally died out, three mysterious heroes arose from the barren land: a wise sorcerer, a courageous prince, and a powerful warrior banded together and after a lasting fight, sent the darkness back to the Badlands. Unfortunately, even though the land was now freed, the three heroes were never seen again after the battle, presumably dragged away by the darkness, and after weeks of searching all throughout the charted lands, were finally talked of as dead, with many statues and temples built in the honor of these three now famous heroes.

One bittersweet victory and a few thousand years later, many powerful kingdoms were established in the different realms and worlds, all living in peace and harmony. However, not long after the first peace treaty between the humans and the wyverns was created, a prophet, by the name of Baldezar, emerged from the confines of his reclusive mountain dwelling and warned all of imminent doom for all the kingdoms that he had foretold in a vision. Although no one bothered to listen to the old loon, Baldezar tried with all his might and effort to prepare the kingdoms for a fight against the darkness, even transcribing his vision into a prophecy. Rather unfortunately, Balderzar’s wise words of warning were completely ignored, and the prophecy promptly disappeared into the abyss of the kingdoms’ archives.

Stolen novel; please report.

After this massive failure, Baldezar delved even deeper into madness, writing prophecy after prophecy, all being disregarded and mindlessly thrown into the archives, just as Baldezar himself had been thrown into dungeons many times for his controversial predictions. For his actions, he ended up losing his credibility as a prophet and spent his last years sitting in his cave, trying desperately to communicate with all sorts of mystical beings to beg for their help in warning everyone of doom, starting with gods and ending with the most terrifying demons from the darkest realms possible. Needless to say, both gods and demons alike had better things to do with their time and threw aside all the generous offerings of gold that Baldezar offered up to them. Those who still considered him a somewhat competent prophet had finally lost their hopes in him, and he faded away, taken by the sands of time.

Many years have passed since then, and many things have changed, for better or worse. Kingdoms had feuds and fellowships, alliances, just like tax policies, were created and abolished, and yet even through all the mild conflicts that occurred every now and then, peace was upheld as the main value throughout the land (especially if we ignore that one lasting war between the trolls and the elves). These prosperous times, however, were not meant to last. At the border of the Badlands, on the very edge of the horizon, a dark cloud was forming, inching slightly closer with every passing day...