For over a hundred years, the Sentral knew peace. Under the rule of the Mother, stability and unity thrived. But, as in all things, even the greatest reigns must end. The Mother passed, and with her, the harmony that had bound the four Realms of the Sentral faded.

Each realm put forth a new leader, one they believed worthy of guiding the Sentral into the future. The Keppers of the North placed their trust in Akepu, the mighty general of the united armies and loyal defender of the Mother’s peace. The Ventu of the West chose Ataya, the Lady of the Wind, beloved by her people as she was cherished by the Mother herself. The Wootlers of the East called forth Aggeon, the royal giant of the Voragian Mountains. The Krows of the South championed Angor, a warrior born in the fury of the Adun lands.

The four gathered in the hallowed halls of the Mother’s old castle to decide the fate of the Sentral. But after twenty sunrises and sunsets, the council ended in ruins. Angor, furious at this failure, declared himself the rightful ruler of the entire Sentral. In the shadows of Chugac Forest, he began to raise an army of creatures, shaped by his own hand. Part beast, part man, their minds only loyal to their creator. He called them Goars. When they marched, the earth groaned beneath their weight. When they roared, even the winds held their breath. They were bred for blood, and their thirst was unending.

Ten years passed. Rumours grew of a growing shadow, swelling like stormy clouds. The grass in the Mother’s once-green royal garden turned grey. The winds grew colder. Then, at last, Angor unleashed his wrath. The West, veined by the Five Fingers, was first to fall—its people scattered, its Queen captured in her own tower. The North, though valiant, lost half its land before breaking the Southern march at Nomnia. The East was driven back to their mountain gate, holding the pass of Bryrock with the last of their strength.

The war paused, but peace never returned. The North and East hardened their borders, praying for light, preparing for darkness. 

In this moment, a young woodcutter of the North wakes to start his day, unaware that the path before him might shape the fate of the Four Realms.