The earth we live on affects how we form our civilizations. Every hill and river changes our way of life, even if only minutely. On the continent of Kladai, the land beneath every kingdom impacts those who toil upon its' soil. In the mountainous land of Enzoa, farmers must toil in the small valley at the base of Mt. Abbas while the nobles up the mountain use wyverns to travel through the capital. In contrast, the southern country of Isole is awash in sun, surf and festivals. All people celebrating their fortunes with song. To the east of both smaller countries is the kingdom of Vativa. This prosperous land acts as a guardian against a supposed great evil. The barren country of Khalese.

The feud between these lands is as endless as it is legendary. You see, legends are as much apart of the world as the earth around us. They become woven within society, in our history, our culture. But legends sometimes have a way of seeping into reality. Nowhere is this more evident than in Vativa and Khalese. Thousands of years ago, these two lands were actually allies. That changed with the crowning of Queen Mordra.

Stories of the Witch Queen of Khalese reach every corner of Kladai. From stories of horror and cruelty in Isole to the tales of reverence that pass through the lips of Khaleseans. How she turned against her allies and slaughtered thousands mercilessly. But none are as prevalent as the story of her downfall.

A soldier of Vativa by the name of Andras had survived the Khalesean army's attack on his home of Aridan. Fueled by grief, Andrastraveled to Markim. urge the king to retaliate. Unfortunately, the king was still in denial about their ally's betrayal. He noted that the attack on Aridan was nothing more than a misunderstanding and sent the hero off. Betrayed first by his allies and now his king, Andras turned to the then wounded country of Isole.

Its queen could not offer much when she heard his tale. What she could offer was the strength of her remaining mages. Together they forged a powerful ring, enchanted to seal the evil queen within the bowels of the earth. Once completed, the hero led the Isolian army towards Mordra's advancing line. They reached the city of Markim during a Khalesean invasion and fought them off. During the assault unfortunately the king had perished. Prince Cedric, scarred from the horrors caused by his father's willful ignorance, pledged his armies to the hero's cause. Together they marched on the Khalesean army. They pushed through the enemy forces until they reached the capital of Xorn.

They stormed into the castle, taking out the few guards on their march to the throne room. As the grand doors swung open they were greeted with a horrible sight. Bodies of captured soldiers littered the floor. Blood covered the walls. And lounging in the middle of it all was Queen Mordra. Slowly she rose from her throne. With a snap of her delicate fingers the bones burst from their bodies and melded behind her into the terrifying form of a dragon. As the army fought the dracolich, the young prince attack Mordra directly. As easily as brushing off a fly, Mordra knocked Cedric away. As he struggled to get up Mordra menacingly walked towards him. As the witch raised her hand to finish him off, the hero jumped in front of him and absorbed the spell into the ring. This enraged the queen who hurled spell after spell as Andraspushed forward. With each spell the ring grew stronger and the queen weakened. Her dragon fell to pieces as Mordra's breath came out in pants. Hestood above her, eyes hardened by the anger he felt. Their eyes met; vicious teal clashed with determined purple.

"I…will rise…again." She snarled venomously.

With a violent clenching of his fists, Andrasactivated the ring and allowed the very stone to swallow her whole. Mordra howled in rage as her fingers crackled with the last of her magic. She threw a final spell as she was pulled beneath the castle; knocking him onto his back. Thankfully the ring was able to absorb its ill effects except for one. It seared the hero's flesh and he could no longer touch it. But they had succeeded. The queen was gone. Celebrations rang throughout the land. Andras' home of Aridan was rebuilt and is now a holy city that protects the ring. No one has thought about Mordra or her final curse for three thousand years.

Until now.

The temple of Andras was quiet. Over confident guards slept at their posts as a pair of hooded figures snuck by them. Smirking the smaller of the two chuckled as she removed her hood. Her companion glared at her as she opened her mouth.

"I can't believe they're sleeping! These are the most incompetent guards yet!" The mirth in her voice was obvious as another chuckle burst past her lips.

"They won't be sleeping for long if you keep talking you brat. I thought you had gotten better at this!" her companion hissed. The girl narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, come off it Geraldt! Just last week you botched a job by tripping a wire and you have been doing this at least twice as long as I have." She grumbled. Geraldt glowered at her, the expression making him seem even older than he was.

"Exactly why I don't want to botch this Nimue," he growled, "The boss will have my head if another job fails on my watch!"

Waving off his concerns, Nimue scanned the main room of the temple. Paintings of the hero Andras and the defeat of Mordra covered the walls. And in the center of the room was a single pedestal with a glass box placed on top of it. Seeing no traps or obvious spell markings she cautiously approached the stone column. Gently she removed the glass, setting it soundlessly on the ground. Geraldt kept glancing around, keeping an eye out for the guards. The ring was placed on a simple silk cushion embroidered with symbols she assumed were ancient Vativan. The ring itself was a simple thing, a pale golden band inscribed with magical sigils. A single gem that swirled with remnants of dark magic sat on it.

"Hey! Would you get back in your head and take the damnable thing already? We don't have all night, brat!"

"Ugh, you take the fun out of everything old man."

Reaching out, she took the ring from its resting place. As soon as it left the pillow an ear splitting screech filled the air. Geraldt clutched his ears as a curse forced it's way past Nimue's lips.

"They spelled the pillow? For fuck's sake!"

"Come on! Stash the goods and let's go!"

With a curt nod, she slipped the ring on her left hand and turned to run. Her movement was hindered as a sudden searing pain shot up her arm. Screaming, she fell to her knees as a net descended onto her. Geraldt hesitated a moment before vanishing beyond the walls of the temple. Nimue clawed at her hand, desperate to take of the demonic ring that had cursed her finger. Her vision began to darken as the sound of metal against marble slowly got louder. She saw a pair of silver greaves stand before the net. It was official, she was caught.

"Dammit." She muttered before succumbing to the pain.

In Khalese, a tremendous earthquake rocked the capital of Xorn to its core. The ground cracked as it heaved, sending bricks and stones tumbling into the streets. Panic filled the people as the dodged the rubble and prayed for it to end. In the palace, Prince Alfonse held onto his throne for dear life as his kingdom trembled. When the terror finally ended he turned to his advisers for answers but none of them knew what had happened. The sound of frantic footsteps pounding against stone filled the hall as a panting pageboy burst in. The prince stared expectantly at the page as he waited for him to speak.

"M-my lord. The t-tomb of Mordra. I-it's been…" The boy spoke

"Out with it boy!" Alfonse snapped. Shrinking back, the boy continued.

"The tomb has been opened my lord."

A gasp echoed throughout the hall as Alfonse stood up, willing the page to show him. Obeying this silent command the page led him down into the bowels of the castle. When they reached the end of their descent, they discovered the boy's words were true. The stone wall had been shattered and standing amongst the rubble was a beautiful red haired woman dressed in a body hugging black dress that ended in white ruffles. Her teal eyes appraised the new comers, making Alfonse straighten his posture. Her red lips twitched up in amusement as a seductive chuckle bubbled past them. Taking a slow step towards them she spoke.

"Now tell me Princeling, who is the unfortunate soul that woke me up?"

Author's Note:
Awesome! Chapter 1 is up! I bet you are reading this to find out how to submit characters. After reading the below info about each country, head to my profile to grab the character sheet and shoot me a PM! I will send you a PM in return if your character is accepted. Alright, onto the countries!

Khalese:

The kingdom of Khalese has struck fear into the hearts of men for centuries. Many myths and legends speak of the cruelty of Khalese and its people. From the vicious Swordsmen in the outpost of Bulette to the merciless Pegasus Riders of Slaadi and even the horrors of the Thief filled streets of its capital of Xorn. However take away these tales and you will see the truth, a land ravaged by shortages-be it food, water or homes. The current ruler is Prince Alphonse, who is determined to change the fate of his people.

Enzoa:

Enzoa is a small mountainous country that shares borders with Isole and Vativa. Fighters populate the fort of Valorem at the base of Mt. Abbas. The capital of Audentia sits halfway up the mountain, along with the wyvern stables. At the peak lies he temple of Verum, populated by healers. It is led by representatives of three noble families known as the Faceless Council. No one outside of the families know who is apart of the council in order to protect the leaders.

Vativa:

The land of Vativa is seen by many as the first defense against the rotten core of Khalese. As the kingdom that shares the largest border with Khalese, they are their biggest enemy. The two kingdoms have clashed many time over the years, most notably when a Vativan soldier sealed away their queen three thousand years ago. It's capital of Markim is home to the finest knights and archers in all of Kladai. The village of Aridan has become somewhat of a holy city due to it being the birthplace of the great hero. It's port city of Tyrodin may be the one issue it has, with Mercenaries crawling everywhere. The title of king is about to pass onto the eldest son, Tyrian.

Isole:

The kingdom of Isole is as well known for its' festivities as it is for it's ports and beaches. The streets of the port town of Ostara is filled with parties and Tricksters. In Mabon, Mages practice their arts at the royal academy. And in the prosperous capital, parties fill the streets as the chorus of Singers fill the air. Currently the country is led by the Triche family.

Ok a few more things. There are openings in the royal families/leaders of Enzoa, Vativa, and Isole. For Vativa there are two younger sibling slots open, under the age of 20 but older than 15. Isole only has the single royal who has to be at least 24 but no older than 30. As for the Faceless Council of Enzoa, the first three Enzoan nobles accepted will become the council. Manaketes are typically living in Enzoa while the Taguels reside mainly in Vativa.

My goal is to update this every Friday.

Alright that is it for my babbling, seeya!