Alas, this brings forth a saga of a desolate, wintry land called Wynhearth, known for its unbroken cycle of winter where most mortal dwellers had difficulty in growing crops and rearing livestock to sustain themselves. Due to its unforgiving cold where there was a shortage of food and firewood, the people suffered greatly. The torment was neglected by the infamous ruler of the land, who was once admired for his noble morality and chivalric deeds. No man knows what had turned their respected emperor into a bloodthirsty monster who paid no attention other than towards his own greed and desire; slaughtering any living being who irked and challenged him.

The cynical habit of daily slaughtering was grotesque. Intimidating the council and the people of the land. The blood-spattered sight was a vivid reminder for them to contemplate twice their actions and words before voicing their opinion toward the ruthless lord. Despite this diurnal scene, every monster would take a break before it goes for another rampage. The great hall where the bloodshed usually occurs would experience its tranquility which only happens once every blue moon when the lord’s precious gem visits him.