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Pt 1.

Razgriz, the black wolf of legend. It appears every thousand years to engulf the land in its massive maw and embroil the four kingdoms in war. It burns the fields with its gaze and sets brother against brother, father against son. The demon rampages until it has gorged itself on the grief of mankind. When it lays down to digest its feast, the wickedness inside becomes tainted by the only thing that its victims have left, hope. This hope burns away the evil in the wolf, and it bursts into flame. From the ash, Razgriz is reborn, this time as a great hero. In this life Razgriz fosters the land and its people, and ushers in a new era of prosperity. Soon after, Razgriz slips away to its den and slumbers until the next time it is awakened.

That is how the story goes at least, a tale for children to explain the wicked ways of man and the desire to live long enough to see that next welcome peace. In reality the four kingdoms rarely see the peace described in such fables, but the horrors of war are all too common. Political gain, resources, or noble feuds cause more bloodshed than any old legend about the wolf demon Razgriz. At least, that's what I thought, before that old legend became about me.

To the world, I died four years ago, after the Battle of Harvestland. I died a legend, the black wolf, Razgriz himself. But I was not always so. Four years before then, I was not known by anyone outside of the small village I was born and raised in. There was nothing special about me; I was the son of a mill owner, a commoner. Dovan, my father, was my life then. I had not known my mother, she was said to have died in a plague that struck our village when I was too young to remember. This does not set me apart as special, and I was not to be pitied. In those days, death could come in an instant, even in a peaceful region such as the Harvestland. It was not uncommon for a child to be separated from one or both parents before adulthood; it was just the way things were. My father was a strong man, he worked the millstones every day and made us good living. I took the grain in our cart and delivered it to a host of small villages like ours. Life was simple; there were no politics, no wars, and no betrayals. But in those days I was naïve and proud. I had everything I wanted and I was on the cusp of manhood. All I cared about was finding a girl in the village that didn't look masculine and finding some kind of liquor that might make her look like a goddess. I was only nineteen at the time, barely able to comprehend life, and totally unprepared for the events which would soon shake it apart. Yet change occurs, whether we embrace it or shove it aside. You may try to stall it, or impede its progress; but like a stubborn weed it will slip from your control and run rampant among your stagnancy. Such change heralds the return of Razgriz. Such change made me a man. Such change made me a legend.

As I said, I was just a young man under the shadow of his father, and content with being in such a position. I traded grain for pelts or vegetables, or whatever else was needed for life in the Havestlands. It is a quaint country, the most passive, or subdued, of the four Reliance kingdoms. Our grand Reliance was formed from the shattering of the Lawdic Empire. The Laws ruled with aristocratic detachment, and like so many others, failed to see the shifting foundation they stood so proudly upon. They could never hope to keep such widespread rule harnessed without making accommodations for the people living under them. When the people first spoke out, they were harshly silenced. Entire communities were purged of "dissidents", while those who stood by sheep-like were untouched. It became a crime to be expressive; the artist was a traitor and the poet a blasphemer. For years no land could rise up and shake off the iron weight of the Laws, who kept their military might and wealth behind the solid walls of Terradawn, a massive fortress that lies in the crossroads of the four lands.

To the north is Danowe, a frigid land full of Terrans. They comprised the brute force the Laws needed, but only the freedom from their frozen deserts and a steady flow of gold kept them loyal. Their strong hands built Terradawn, initially intended to be a city for the Terrans, a paradise free of the killing wind and icy sandstorms of their home. The Laws initially invited the Terrans to share the Lawdic homelands while they built up the mighty Terradawn. Once construction was complete however, the Terran chieftains were deeply in debt for the materials needed to construct such a castle. The Laws pulled the rug out from under them and forced the once proud race into the position of worker bee, mindless drones at the back and call of their masters. While the average worker might be content to not live in the old land, the chieftains still held their grudge. They sought out help in the other three lands, the Dragonics to the west, the Followers to the east, and the Vards in my homeland to the south. Each provided a vital asset that, if withheld, could upset the rule of the Laws. The Terrans had their labor; the Dagonics control the minerals and ores of the Ruez Mountains. The Vards hold the vast expanse of fertile ground universally called Harvestland, and the Hollows had reign over the Essence, a flow of tappable energy that let those with the skill harness the elements or conjure familiars.

Three of the four lands began to fight and deny resources to the Laws and the crushing spite of the detested aristocrats was brought down upon them. Only the Hollows did not resist, their corrupt leaders sold their people's power to become the eyes and ears of the Laws, using Essence to root out resistance leaders and alter the very landscape of the revolutionaries in exchange for power and money. Even without the support of its constituents, it seemed that Lawdic rule would outlast the sputtering resistance. The turning point came when a small band of powerful Hollows known as the Harbingers combined their power to bend the Essence into a massive cyclone. While it could not destroy the Laws in Terradawn, it instead began to rip apart the very lands it had been created in. The wooden constructs of the Hollowers could not withstand such natural fury. Witnessing the destruction of their lands, and the ignorance of the Laws to assist their only allies, the majority of the Hollow leadership begrudgingly fell in step beside their neighboring countries and turned against Lawdic rule. Their mages turned from espionage and destruction to taming the whirlwind that purged the greed from the land. With the support of its people stripped away, the Laws sat in their gilded halls and starved to death as hordes of Terran rebels beat upon the walls. Once mighty Terradawn was breached, not a single Law was left alive; their final hours had been lived out as prisoners, not wardens. The gilded halls were stripped bare and the wealth of the Laws was given back to the people who had suffered under them.

It was out of this victory that the Reliance was forged, each country pledging loyalty to the others and dedicating their talents and resources to the good of all. The Shard Council was formed; a legislator from each land would live within the walls of Terradawn and work together to maintain the cooperation of each Reliance nation. With a governing body created by the people of each nation, the Reliance Treaty was written as a binding body to share wealth and resources. While the government expanded into an effective system of representation and legislation, the old habits of a people used to central rule became interestingly twisted. Whereas merchants under the Laws would be required to deliver goods to the walls of Terradawn for Lawdic use, under the Reliance Treaty merchants began to flood the walls with goods and services, turning the aristocratic bunker into a thriving marketplace.

After the rough start accompanied with any transitional government, the Reliance began to fill out and develop into a powerful entity on a worldwide scale. With this power came intrigue, many other governances and cultures began to envy the newfound strength and brotherhood of the Reliance. Incursions by raiders to the west became dinner conversation, pirates roved the Terran coast, searching for merchant vessels filled with bullion, and in the South tribes of barbarians began to take over peaceful frontier settlements. It seemed once more that Razgriz had risen, and one question rested on the lips of every man, woman and child. When would the demon falter, and the hero emerge?