The ground rumbles beneath the feet of many soldiers. From the west rises a massive army of fierce warriors, both corporeal and demons wrenched from Hate. Twisted faces filled with hatred march with heated anticipation of victory. Leading them through the icy hills is none other than the dark lady Lanys T`Vyl, her blood-red armor gleaming in the cool morning light.
Across the lands to the east, the great wizard Al`Kabor spearheads an army of light. Elven warriors and archers move forward with grim determination to keep safe the fair city of Firiona Vie. Resolve is etched upon every face; every elegant sword gleams with purity and truth. Meanwhile, back in Firiona Vie itself, the princess lays ill in bed. With her father Galeth Veredeth at her side, Firiona rests upon silken sheets, slowly gaining back the life that has been siphoned from her.
The air swells with silence as the colossal forces are drawn inexorably towards each other. An age has passed since a battle of such magnitude has been waged upon Norrath. An era has ended, one of peace and prosperity. The time of war is upon us.
