You’re in a battle. Your family, except the 2nd sentinel of the Light, the second weakest puts his arm on your shoulder, as you watch the leader, the Orfó die. You try to get her corpse, but the second sentinel of light grabs your arm. “You need to live! I’m sorry 15…” Before you can speak another word, he sends you away with a blast of light. As you fly, your armor and weapons fly away in pieces. You call out, but you watch as the Dark elves kill the second sentinel of light. You land in the lands of Roto, the land of multi breed lands, a de-militarization zone for species to co-existence. You slide on your back, crying as your family is dead. But you forget and everyone in the lands of Roto remember you as a recent member of Roto society, and you sit up, thinking you tripped. One of your friends, Grota, who suffers from fire magic related hand inflammation walks up and says “Hey you goof, we got class soon. Come on”