Prologue
For generations, the Kingdom of Forgehold had flourished among towering mountains, where cities rose from valleys and settlements stretched deep into the stone. Its people were builders, miners, and craftspeople whose ingenuity had transformed a formidable landscape into a thriving kingdom.
Their greatest strength lay in the extraordinary abilities of their artisans.
In Forgehold, magic was woven into the things people created. Smithies forged enchanted weapons and tools, Masons strengthened stone, and Hearthies prepared meals that nourished far beyond what ordinary food could provide. Stitchers worked their magic into fabric and yarn, while countless other artisans contributed their talents to the kingdom’s prosperity. Each creation carried the skill, intention, and personal energy of the hands that had made it.
Beyond the mountains lay Caelora, a kingdom of fertile forests, winding rivers, and coastal settlements. Its people practiced a different form of magic, drawing upon an innate connection to the natural elements. Through years of disciplined training, elementalists learned to command air, water, earth, or fire, shaping the forces of nature through practiced movements and concentration.
Despite their differences, the two kingdoms had once enjoyed a prosperous relationship. Forgehold supplied enchanted goods and finely crafted metalwork, while Caelora provided resources gathered from its forests, rivers, and seas. Between them stretched fertile plains sustained by a great river flowing from the mountains toward the coast.
For generations, trade and cooperation had allowed both kingdoms to flourish.
That prosperity came to an end with the collapse of Blackvein Mine.
Deep within Forgehold’s mountains, miners extracted Blackvein, a rare mineral prized for its remarkable strength and ability to retain artisan magic. Once refined, it became an invaluable resource for the kingdom’s industries and defenses. In its raw state, however, the mineral possessed a dangerous weakness: exposure to water caused a violent reaction that released toxic substances into the surrounding environment.
When the mine collapsed, floodwater reached enormous quantities of exposed Blackvein, sending contamination into the river that connected the two kingdoms.
The devastation spread far beyond the mountains.
Fish died in poisoned waterways, crops withered in once-fertile fields, and communities that had prospered along the river were forced to abandon their homes. The contamination reached deep into Caelora, destroying natural resources upon which generations had depended.
In time, the river diminished, leaving behind a barren expanse where thriving settlements and fertile farmland had once stood.
The ruined territory became known as the Scarlands.
Although both kingdoms suffered from the catastrophe, neither agreed upon its cause. Forgehold accused Caelora’s elementalists of deliberately bringing down the mine, while Caelora blamed Forgehold’s reckless pursuit of Blackvein for poisoning the land. Grief and devastation gave way to anger, and accusations hardened into a resentment that neither kingdom was willing to abandon.
What began as a dispute over responsibility eventually became a war.
The Scarlands, once a place of shared prosperity, became the battlefield upon which both kingdoms fought to defend their beliefs and avenge their losses.
As decades passed, the truth of what had happened at present day Anvil Pass became increasingly obscured by generations of conflicting accounts. Children inherited the grievances of their ancestors, growing up with stories of betrayal and destruction that shaped how they viewed the kingdom beyond their borders.
In Forgehold, Blackvein remained a symbol of strength and prosperity. In Caelora, it became known as Riverbane, a name that carried the memory of poisoned rivers and ruined lands.
Neither kingdom was willing to surrender its version of history, and the war continued long after those who had witnessed the original disaster were gone.
For Forgehold’s artisans, the conflict gradually transformed the purpose of their work. Skills that had once served communities and supported ordinary life became increasingly valuable to the military. Enchanted weapons, protective clothing, reinforced fortifications, and countless other creations were needed to sustain the soldiers fighting across the Scarlands.
Yet life beyond the battlefield continued. Workshops remained busy, markets filled the mountain settlements, and families carried on the traditions that had sustained Forgehold for generations.
Most of its people had never known a world without war.
They had inherited a conflict whose beginnings existed only in history, yet its demands shaped their lives just as surely as the mountains surrounding their homes.
And as the kingdom called upon another generation to serve, the hands that had spent their lives creating would once again be asked to help sustain a war that seemed to have no end.
