In the heart of Lunaris Realm, where the skies shimmered with dancing auroras and the lands breathed with ancient magic, a fragile unity stirred. For the first time in centuries, kingdoms, tribes, pirates, and clans had cast aside grudges, bound together not by treaties on scrolls, but by blood oaths, shared scars, and the looming shadow of war.
The Kingdom of Etherion, the Crown of Unity and Power, stood at the center of this alliance. Led by King Aerion Vale, a warrior king wielding Solthorn—his magic spear of fire and wind—Etherion became the beacon of resistance. Beside him was General Kael Vale, the iron-willed brother clad in enchanted armor, his sword Bladestorm echoing with rage in battle. Their younger siblings—Elira, the Moonpiercer of the forests; Zeke, the rogue shadow warrior; and the twins Orion and Lyra, wielders of time and healing—were more than blood; they were Etherion's living arsenal.
To their side marched mighty allies.
From the deepest woods came the Tribe of Vael'Norr, fierce trackers led by Chieftain Kaorun, known for sensing magic in the soil and blood in the air. Beside them stood the ironborn of the desert, the Tribe of Drek'Kor, their warriors bearing blades forged by their own hands under Warchief Shaka. The Arowen, gentle but deadly water whisperers, and the beast-bound Tharnak of the mountains, brought ancient strength that could shake the land itself.
Over the sea, thunder echoed from cannons and sails. The Ironjaw Corsairs, pirates once feared, were now brothers in arms. Captain Ryker Vale, cousin of the royal bloodline, led them with elemental cannons and sky-bound ships—reforged for war, reborn with purpose.
The kingdoms answered Etherion's call:
Lunethra, land of dreams and illusions, lent astral sorcery and moon-born shields.
Varinholt, the Iron Fortress, stood like a wall before darkness.
Neravelle, forest-born guardians, whispered to beasts and vanished like wind.
And Caelverra, the light of law, brought divine flames and shields of justice.
From the icy fjords, the Frostwolf Reavers roared into the storm. Once enemies, now oath-bound allies, Jarl Havor Stonebreaker's 12,000 iceborn berserkers swore to defend Etherion's north. Direwolves howled beneath glacial ships, rune-blades crackled with frostfire, and blizzards answered their rage.
Together, they stood:
244,500 strong—soldiers, warriors, pirates, reavers. One force. One stand.
But shadows do not slumber.
Across the poisoned sea, in the cursed lands of Umbrosia, King Malgareth stirred. Once noble, now a void of power, he sought to corrupt all of Lunaris. His generals—Veyra the Blood Witch, Grakkor the Bone Knight, and Zynex the Silent Blade—marshaled legions of the Obsidian Horde. Twisted beasts, reanimated monsters, and armored wraiths flooded blackened lands, awaiting the signal to march.
The moon wept. The stars dimmed. The enchanted realm stood on the edge.
And so, the war began not with swords drawn, but with a whisper across the winds:
"For Lunaris. For Etherion. For all."