Four Sages

In a world ruled by a tyrant king and a cultist, poverty and opression are rife. The world is being brought to it's knees. A propechy foretells the coming of four saviors to combat the evil which is attacking the land, but will the propechy ever come true? Even if the four unite, will their differences destroy the land instead of saving it?

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1. Part 1: Priestess Of Dawn - Prologue

“The world is in turmoil. “ The storyteller began, his audience crowded around the fire, burning gently in the crisp, cold winter air. Huddled listening was a family with small children who were gaunt and malnourished and an old couple with their grandchildren, moving their hands close to the warm flames.

“We are a nation with a tyrant for a king and a cultist for a leader. The days of the prosperous lands have gone. We are here in the darkest and bleakest of times.” He continued, his voice full of expression and emotion, making the story more entertaining, more believable with every word.

“But the seers of the north and the shamans from the south have foretold the coming of the saviours. They will be 4 sages of the elements and they will each share differences. But combined, they will rid the world of this darkness.”

The old man raised his head and laughed at the younger storyteller, chuckling softly and saying “Come John, we all know that those are just stories that little children are told to keep them from losing all hope. The prophets are long gone or they’re in hiding. Remember the Hoeren Massacre?”

He stared back at the old man and frowned. “But how can we be sure that they are all dead? They didn’t just make it up. You were there, were you not?” The old man sighed and nodded slowly. The children watched the storyteller even more closely.

“The first shall be a Priestess. She shall be hailed by all who ally with as the Priestess of Dawn. She shall be one with nature, young and free. She will come from the fading tribes, from the line of the Dragon Queen. She shall come as Enlincia, and her name in their tongue unknown. But as soon as she speaks her name in front of the Grand Palace, the imprisoned Lord of Dragon will rise to her aid.”

“Then she better hurry up before her tribes disappear forever.” The old man stated, and then the caravan moved on, their caravans creaking merely silence compared to the sound of muskets in the distance. “Bless the dead’s souls. Men now have lost all of their culture.”

“Let us hope that the Priestess of Dawn has not already perished with her culture, as so many men’s has.”

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