From the darkness emerged two new heroes, the Shogun and the Warrior King, who swept aside their rivals like the tides of the sea with their revolutionary tactics and devastating new technologies. The resounding crash of the drums of war danced across the land once more, like a thundercrack which heralds the storm. But during this age of emasculation, new powers were moving across the land, threatening to extinguish the tribes’ hopes for a return to a golden age. The tribes’ loyal subjects drifted from the battlefield, lost souls looking for a new purpose - a new leader who could lead them once more to glory and honour. Their predictability bred weakness and lethargy, until the conflict faded away like a dying star, and the drums of war fell silent once again.Īn uneasy peace settled across the land. Driven by their lust for supremacy but blinded by a bitter, short-sighted rivalry, the great tribes slowly became complacent. My story begins many years ago (mist floats eerily past the page), in a land across the great sea, where a bloody conflict raged between the two mighty tribes of Blizzard and Westwood.
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