Silver was the moon, cold were the winds and silent were the souls within the Kingdom of Kaldivyr; for the penalty of speaking a single syllable out of turn would be the loss of a tongue.

On this night; the strongest of the Dark Fae were gathered before a platform of jagged rock and iron, obediently awaiting word from their master with their heads bowed low as a sign of total obedience.

These vicious warriors were devout to none other than The Great Lord of Calamity, Israfel. A creature of unfathomable cruelty and wrath, destined to dominate each of the opposing Fae realms through endless war and conquest.

And you? You were his divine opposite; the very last of the Light Fae, a celestial being of wisdom, a solitary child of nature and for centuries you had served as his advisor and closest confidant, guiding him to extend mercy whenever you could.

At his side you remained while he sat in his throne of splintered obsidian, listening intently to his generals, all reluctantly offering unsavoury reports of the realms that refused to bend the knee.

"If the other High Fae Lords refuse to submit then I expect nothing less than their complete annihilation."

Lord Israfel snarled through gritted fangs as his glowing red eyes burned bright with furious malice.

"Do not accept their surrender, do not let them plead, do not even let the children survive the wrath of our claws and iron."