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The Crystal Throne has been shattered.

The Empire stood for nearly two thousand years and spanned the entire continent of Lyrinth, sustained by the might of the Emperor’s bloodline and his Magisters and above all, the Crystal Throne itself. Other lands – forbidden lands – still practiced dark magic or lived barbaric lives, nomadic and filthy – but the Empire was a shining jewel.

Until Istirin. The necromancer, from a poor, desert-dwelling tribe eking out a rough existence in the sands of Issra, soon forged an empire of his own with strange magic and an army of demons and undead. Soon, nearly every other country and land fell to him.

Despite his might, however, even this powerful soldiers were no match for the Magisters of the Emerald Throne. Together with the royal army, led by Kalhaven, Paladin of Alinor, they threw Istirin’s army of darkness back.

Finally, using means still unknown, Istirin struck at the very seat of the Empire’s power: The Crystal Throne. The divine artifact, endowed at the founding of the Empire by Alinor, was cracked and splintered. The shining beacon faded to a dim spark. At that same time, all extra-planar connections to the world were severed. No prayers went answered. No portals worked. The realm was alone.

When the Throne dimmed, so too did the might of the Magisters. Demons, undead, even enslaved orcs and giants, swarmed into the lands of the Empire. Even in their deaths, they left a path of destruction surrounding them. Kalhaven, armor pierced in a dozen places, fell with his warhammer lodged in Istirin’s chest and a prayer to Alinor on his lips.

As quickly as it began, it was over. The Empire was in shambles. The army was gone. The cities and towns were overrun. Only Alyzium, the White City that housed the dim spark of the Throne, remained.

Present Day – 18AB

Orcs and goblins control tiny portions of the world that the undead hordes do not scour clean, engaged in a constant fight for survival. Most dwarves have retreated far beneath the surface, behind thick doors of rock and iron. The few elves left have retreated to Alyzium, the human capital still guarded by thick walls and enchanted stone protectors. Even a few goblins and orcs have been welcomed – provided they remember their place in society and are willing to swing a sword to protect the inhabitants. Food is scarce and crime is rising.

At night, the city sleeps. With oil rations and wood being too valuable, the world within the walls is dark – all but for a single point of light. The shattered Crystal Throne.

The rest of the story starts here.

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