Prologue
As King Aceda looked over to the lush trees and landscaping, he became overcome with anger and jealousy. He looked away from the Elvin land and back to his own. It was a desert wasteland with a few shrubs scattered in front of his village and towering castle. As he kicked his horse toward his castle, he seethed, remembering his loss for the Elvin land.
He had gathered all of his army and all of his villagers to mount an attack on the Elvin city of Haladίr. Secretly, he had planned his attack for months, waiting for his scouts to come back to tell him it was time to attack. But he had not counted for a group of meddlers known as the Rangers, they led a force of cavalry behind army at a secret river in the forest and, at the crucial point in the battle, attacked. The men he had kept at the rear were the most untrained he had. He had wanted to make a harsh appearance and make the elves think that all of his men were as battle hardened as the ones he had put up front. The farmers could never have stood up to such a surprise cavalry attack. The army broke retreating to their villages and barring their doors. Aceda, his army defeated, had no choice but to follow them. And so he had waited for fifteen years, waiting, plotting, and hating the elves.
'Now' he thought, 'it was time for revenge'. His spies told him that the land and its people had grown slack and complacent. The name Aceda was a name of legend, a name mothers' use to hush mischievous children, threatening them that if they did not behave, the ghastly human lord Aceda would come for them.
The time was ripe.
This time he would not fail.
The time was ripe for revenge.
