It was not long after the change of seasons from summer to autumn that war had broken and spread far and wide. Riders from distant lands had appeared, cloaked in black, speaking in riddles and deception, attempting to use the precarious situation to take the land and its riches for themselves. Their presence had angered the fierce bear knights of Scythia and an epic confrontation was unfolding. It became apparent that this was growing into a tempest that would leave no man, woman or child unscathed.

But there was hope to be found in these darkest of times. Six warriors from the different tribes had united, brought together by a pact sworn in secrecy long ago to uphold the light. They sought to restore peace and balance to the land of Scythia.

However, the confounded nature of the forces involved in the brewing conflict called for a rare consultant. They required the assistance of Alater, also known as the Red Wizard. He was a reclusive and enigmatic character who retreated from the company of other humans. He took no part in the consuming drive for war, and none knew of his whereabouts, but only his fabled perception could cut through the veil of war and observe the remedy to this malaise. And so the heroes set off to find him…

Which brings us to me. My travels have brought me here, to a secluded tavern known as Hobarth’s Inn. I came for a drink, however, like many do, I stayed for ten. I set next to a strange character, a minstrel. He gave no name, no origin, and, as he had nothing with which to pay his keep, offered to tell a story in exchange for food and drink. As I had nowhere to be, I took him up on his offer, and over a large mug of ale he recounted me this tale, a tale of bravery, of heroism, of defiance. A tale… of War.