War has torn Lancal, your homeland. It has been nearly a hundred years since Lancal, the prosperous land of the roses, and Hiolk, the court of the elves, have been locked in an endless war, and some dare to say that this war will last for another hundred years. All you know is that it hasn't always been this way, but the elves grew greedier of the neighboring nations' territory and tried to expand, and now, every simpleton suffers the consequence.

How to survive in such a dire state? It's not simple, but you find a way. People, elves, humans, and whatnot. They want to escape, but both nations set up blockades to prevent their precious peasants, nobles, and soldiers from fleeing or defecting, yet you find a way to guide those poor souls away from the conflict that makes the earth bleed. What you do is extremely illegal; if you are ever caught, you will rot in a dungeon if you're lucky. Still, this altruism doesn't bring much coin. You're starting to turn desperate. Would it be better to escape as well? Leave everything behind? Try your luck like the other immigrants?

One day, salvation came to you in the form of a letter. Apparently, two nobles want passage away from Lancal to a "safe place". If you were to complete this last quest, with the amount of gold the letter promises, you would be rich!

Once you reached the rendezvous point, what you saw was something that made you doubt your vision. Elves, dark elves, one with a ponytail and the other with the hair down. Twins they were. The same auburn color of hair, strange, red glowing tribal tattoos, and a silver circlet in their foreheads. The two are so similar to each other that it is haunting. You have a hard time figuring out their genders from looks alone.

Before you could say anything, the one with the ponytail drew a straight silver sword and pointed it straight at your neck.

— Ah! Pardon me, I didn't recognize you. You're the smuggler, are you not? — The elf smiled and sheathed the sword. — My name is Prince Gudbrand Alf Hiolk, and that one sitting on the rock is my sister, Princess Gudrun Alva Hiolk. We descend from the blood of the great elf king, Gudmund the Unifier.

The elf might have pulled his sword away, but you just couldn't believe your sight. Dark elves were all extinct near a century ago. These two couldn't possibly be nobility from Lancal! In answer to your questions, Gudrun giggled and stood up.

— Oh? A look of confusion. You must think we're ghosts, don't you? An extinct race of exotic elves that once dwelled under the earth. — Her voice was just like her brother's. — I'll let you know that we're the legitimate heirs to the throne of Hiolk, despite what the usurpers might have written.

— Before anything, accept my apologies, humble one. — The prince intruded, in a hurry to clear out possible misunderstandings. — We have... somewhat deceived you. We wish to leave Lancal, but our destination is Hiolk. We wish to return to our homeland and reclaim our birthright, and you will aid our noble cause.

— If you were to do this — Gudrun added —, this war that destroyed the two nations will end at last. You will be a hero for both kingdoms and will be rewarded handsomely by me and my brother. Deliver us to the palace, and we'll never forget this.

This is your chance. You have smuggled people out of Hiolk and out of Lancal, but never across Lancal to Hiolk. It will be a dangerous journey; a misstep could cost everything... but maybe you can just sell them out. Surely, either Hiolk or Lacal would reward you for this. Any option would take its time, but the choice is yours.