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"The great dragon of the heavens. She has many names, many titles. In our region, we call her, Cymorin. She appeared, centuries ago, when our planet was in a time of peril. The strongest of us, and the wisest of us wished her to bring life back to the land. She opened her mighty wings, and with a single beat, the skies were blue, the fields green, and the waters clear. She smiled upon us, humbled by our gratitude. With her departure, Cymorin vowed to return in two-hundred years, to grant yet another wish."

The people of Krin remained ever grateful as the centuries passed, until the beginning of Krin's Third Millenium. The blessings of Cymorin had graced the people of Krin for almost six-hundred years. Three wishes, all for prosperity, peace, and understanding to be spread to all living souls. This near-utopian lifestyle could not last, so long as there was selfishness in the hearts of the living. As with most civil alliances, all began to crumble in the face of evil.

For the first time since before Cymorin's arrival, the people of Krin knew what true fear was. The leader of the guild known as the "Giestkin" emerged from the shadows, leading a mighty army of necromancers, assassins, warriors, and a horde of evil creatures. The people of the land, defenseless, fell to their will, and Cymorin, returning to see the Giestkin's leader controlling the continent through fear and manipulation, granted the Giestkin leader her blessing.

Two centuries passed, and another two-hundred, and the Giestkin retained control of the people of Krin, and the blessings of Cymorin. The people could not remain afraid of those who had taken their freedom, and their wish to regain a life unhindered by fear birthed a new guild. Labeled by their hopes, the guild "Shield and Soul" challenged the Giestkin as Cymorin arrived for the seventh time. Cymorin watched as they battled for her grace, in challenges of strength and will. In the end, the Giestkin were defeated, and banished to the farthest reaches of the planet, and for a time, all seemed as if peace would return to the planet. The guild leader of Shield and Soul recieved Cymorin's blessing, and the dragon departed once more.

Since that day, many other guilds have surfaced, prospered, and crumbled. The blessing of Cymorin has sparked a struggle between the guilds of the continent that seems neverending. Factions of these guilds were trained specifically to fight on the day of Cymorin's arrival, to the death, in most cases. Her wish had passed into the hands of those who wish to benefit only themselves, and those with conflicted ideals. The once-great peace of Krin, now clouded by the bicentennial Faction Wars, fell to darker times. The people of Krin were now fighting each other for a piece of the glory of winning the Faction War for themselves, their guilds, or their countries.

Eleven wishes had passed since Cymorin's first arrival. Four Faction wars had been waged in greed and jealousy. With the coming Twelfth wish, the parties involved began to grow tired of the struggle, thinking of a better time when they once stood unified under a single, pure ideal. Before the Fifth Faction War, the Giestkin resurfaced, striking a critical blow to Shield and Soul by assassinating their leader, a wise Elf by the name of Madame Craybourne. Revenge in their hearts, and surprise on their side, the newly-revived Giestkin army swept through the Fifth Faction War nearly unopposed, using the wish to spread fear and their influence throughout the continent.

Pain.

Misery.

Suffering.

The Giestkin had won. The twelfth wish was theirs, and word of their terrible deeds and power began to spread throughout the entire planet, yet none could stand up to their foul ways. Those who opposed the Giestkin would perish. Those who were deemed useful enough would be forced into their service, either through intimidation, bribery, or even death and resurrection. The guild that had protected the people was now nothing more than a sundry group of mercenaries, struggling to find work in a land that had abandoned them.

The thirteenth wish soon approaches. The Giestkin prepare themselves for another battle with the guilds and their factions, victory already seemingly in their grasp. The hands of fate are never idle, and are not so cruel as to leave the innocent without hope. The land has many promising heroes, and to every curse, there must be a blessing. Perhaps, few will rise to the callling, to truly save the land of Krin.

Cymorin awaits.