The world was divided into four great lands.
Varethia, vast and fertile, belonged to the Federation — an uneasy alliance of humans, elves, and dwarves. To the south burned Dravonar, the realm of demons. Beyond the western seas lay Theraxis, home to the beastkin, who bore the strength and instincts of their ancestral beasts. And far beyond them all, shrouded in mist and sea, lay the smallest and most feared of all — the Forbidden Forest, Drymus.
Drymus was a place spoken of only in whispers. Encircled by treacherous waters and older than any map, it drew countless adventurers seeking forgotten relics. Few ever returned, and those who did were never the same. Some became heroes; others, legends; and a few, monsters.
Varethia itself was divided into three kingdoms.
-Alctara, ruled by humankind, stood firm beneath the banner of its royal house and three ancient ducal pillars.
-Sylverien, realm of the elves, was a kingdom of silver woods and eternal twilight, governed by its queen and the noble highborn families.
And deep beneath the mountains lay -Thrumdar, the fortress of the dwarves, whose forges and halls rang with the music of steel and stone.
Together, these three formed the Federation a fragile unity born of necessity, forged in the long war against demons and beastkin. The Federation was ruled by a council where kings and queens sat beside dukes and elders, each guarding their pride as fiercely as their people.
Across the seas, Dravonar bent to the will of the Demon King an ancient Voidborn of the abyssal bloodline. Three tribes served beneath him: the Bloodborn (vampires who ruled the night), the Hellborn (fiery infernals born of flame and rage), and the Voidborn (masters of shadow, rulers of them all).
In Theraxis, the beastkin followed the law of blood and fang. The royal Leonhardt Clan reigned above the great houses Tigranis, Zephyra, and Fenrir while countless lesser clans prowled the wild lands: Ursaal, Serpenthra, and more whose names were carried only by wind and roar.
For centuries, these three continents waged endless war. Kingdoms rose and fell beneath the clash of steel and the roar of magic. Yet even hatred can be silenced by fear.
When the Alstras returned creatures born from the fading seal of the Primordial God the world trembled. The ancient prisons that bound them cracked open, their darkness spilling into the lands through dungeon breaks. And for the first time in an age, all races looked upon one another not as enemies, but as survivors of a dying world.
The war of the three continents ended. In its place, a fragile truce was forged.
Together they built Academies sanctuaries of training and knowledge, where the young were prepared for the battles to come.
Every child awakened their inner power at twelve. At seventeen, they entered the academy. Four years later, they would step into a world that no longer promised peace only survival.