Dragonstones.
The magical artifacts of the past era.
Scholars of the known world found out their true nature and their awesome powers. With enough magical amplification and modulation, these gemstones could increase one's magical powers by hundreds of times.
At first, they were used for beneficial purposes. There are many legends of powerful priests vanquishing old wraiths, mighty doctors who cured entire villages from plague with a wave of hand. For few years, all was good.
But then, there was the first argument. Then, a first fight over the Dragonstones, which, while powerful, were limited in their numbers. For a handful of Dragonstones, there were thousands of people interested in their possession. The empowered mages, either mercenaries under someone's command, or being landlords themselves, began to quarrel. But the violent, magical skirmishes quickly turned into a full-scale war. It wasn't war of the different nations, it was a war of greedy individuals.
They raised armies. They warped their soldiers. They crushed the cities and flattened the mountains, arose new lands from the water and plunged the old lands under the water. Nothing remained unchanged, and almost everything was lost.
As the mighty fought with each other, the commonfolk suffered. The sun was red and burned the crops; the water was purple, bitter and salty; and the air turned poisonous. The horrible experiments and unfortunate victims of the magic roamed the lands, consuming the livestock, razing villages, murdering the people. No one and nothing was safe.
That was what people now call The Magic Wars. A magical calamity on unprecedented scale, and a war unlike any other. Those were times of despair and sadness, a century of Darkness.
But where there's Darkness, there's also a Light.
Troy Lionheart, a young knight of Dia, one day stood in the middle of the city, and he said, 'The Mages will bring the end to the Humanity, if their fighting will not stop. I, Troy Lionheart will stop them! I swear on my life!'. And what he said he will do, he did.
The brave youth gathered support from neighbouring lands. The soldiers, the small mages, the humble priests, the commoners; all rallied under the banner of Troy. In a month, there was a legion; in a year, there was an army.
The mages, one by one, were defeated by Troy Lionheart and his followers. The Dragonstones, one by one, were destroyed in the magical furnaces.
The Magic Wars ended; the Humanity was saved. But that wasn't the end of Troy's work - the land was still divided and in ruin. He conquered the lands of evil and corrupt warlods and kings, he fought against the monsters and mutants created during Magic Wars; and finally, he united the known lands under his rule.
'Long live Troy Lionheart! Long live the Empire!' the people yelled in joy. Troy Lionheart fathered twelve children, future rulers of the land. But as the history has it, not necessarily a bright, talented individual has equally bright and talented children. When Troy passed away, the people mourned; not only because he died, but because times won't be the same again. And when the Succession Wars started, when freshly united world was divived yet again - the people knew they were right.
But the Troy Dynasty ultimately prevailed, it had its ups and downs, its periods of prosperity, and times of civil unrest - the dynasty of the Golden Lion endured two long centuries in power. The enemies of the Empire, no matter how powerful and scheming, were quickly crushed under the heel of the Troian military; no one could stand against the descendants of Troy Lionheart.
However, the last fifty years were marked by stains of rebellions, uprisings, cruelty and decadence not seen before.
The powerful noblemen dance and wine and enjoy the arts; the weak suffer oppression, poverty, starvation.
It is now Imperial Year 222. The winds of change are blowing.
A new Light appears - in the Vinland.
In the Free Port of Setine.
~~Prologue: The Lady in Red Armour~~
The alleys of Free Port Setine are quiet... until a lady steps into them, disrupting the pigeons that were nibbling the grain in the middle of the road. Said lady looks no more than twenty years old, and her crimson armor, a clear indicator of her southern, military roots, can be seen under her leather cloak...
The woman pulls the hood from her head and looks at the sky, letting out a quiet sigh.
"Purple sky... will it rain or something?" She couldn't tell. No one could. The legends of old times say that once, the sky was grey at the morning, blue most of the day, and then beautifully pink or orange at the evening.
Now, the young woman was traveling under the white clouds hanging on the purple sky, that could turn sickly green next day, and bloody red day after. That was the sky her ancestors left for her people - sky forever twisted with old, powerful magic, a sky that will never retain its blueness.
The woman used a slim, decorated lance as a walking stick. She hummed a quiet, calm melody during her walk - before she stopped in front of a building. Above its door, there was a sign, with a green lamp above it.
"The Wounded Boar, huh? It must be here..." With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped in.
The smell of tobacco and beer and sweat overpowered her nostrils for a moment, but she wasn't a frail court lady. After a moment, she moved toward the counter, her heavy boots thumping surprisingly quiet on the wooden floor - in contrast to that floor, which kept creaking loudly at every her step. It was more than enough to gain attention of several sailors, workers, and other gruff men and women, but they quickly lost interest in her. The bartender, an old, thin man, was washing the glass mugs behind the counter as the girl walked to him, and he looked at her with slight distrust. After eyeing her for a while, he chuckled.
"The brothel is next alley." He mumbled, putting down the mug.
"I'm looking for mercenaries, sir, I was told that I can find them here-" The bartender laughed quietly and then looked at the girl, stopping what he was doing.
"Mercenaries? For what god-damned reason a lass like you would need mercenaries?" He smiled at her, but she didn't respond. After a moment, her straight, persistent stare made him feel uncomfortable - he grumbled under his nose and nodded toward a corner. The woman moved there.
And in said corner, there was a table with seven chairs, six of which were occupied. The blonde soldier lady stopped at the empty one, looked at the six people gathered there, and smiled.
"Hello." She said quietly, and then sat down at the empty chair.
"I've heard you're mercenaries, and I'm looking for some to help me. My name is Irene."//Maible Talruss, Efa Llewellyn, Sakura Lonia, Leopoldo Belmonte, Sara and Sheila Vega are now active!
