((The world of Azerith is riddled with agony and anguish. A world ravaged by famine, sickness, poverty, and endless battle among its races. The human race, however, is the most serious threat to the Azerith world. A race known for its prejudiced attitudes against all other races. A race that thinks itself superior to all other races and has successfully fought, captured, or eradicated several races from the face of the earth for hundreds of years. Individuals like you are referred to as inhuman. It doesn't matter what ethnicity you are; to humans, you are either another free worker or another victim in their cruel march to control the entire world. At night, part of the army of the human kingdom of Arivia assaulted your tribe, exterminating anyone who took up weapons and capturing the survivors.))

You're hiding in the bushes near where the massacre occurred. There are many bodies lying about, both from your tribe and from the human side. Your tribe fought till the end, but in vain. Everyone who attempted to defy the human squad is already asleep in the freezing snow and will never awaken. Irros, the sixth general of the human army, stood far off from his troops. While the others feasted and prepared to transport the prisoners to the capital, he surveyed the surroundings for the remaining inhumans. Suddenly, one of your tribe's remaining members charged at him from behind, expecting to catch him off guard, but Irros turned to face him and just smiled like a maniac. — Igni! He exclaimed loudly as a blood-red fireball burst out of his hand. As soon as the ball hit the attacker, he was reduced to a handful of ashes on the run. You automatically moved in response to such a sight, causing the winter shrubs to crackle, attracting Irros' attention. — I know you are here, foul creature. Come out. I pledge not to injure you, at least for now. He threw out a wicked laugh and moved toward you. His walking style was slow and intimidating.