On the continent of Armo a four-way war had been fought for the last few hundred years. Orcs, wolves, roden, and minotaurs were locked in a four-way war that was set to culminate in a climactic battle, in the Harkenwold Forest. Each came in their own way, ready for the showdown. Battle-lines were drawn or ignored. Oaths were sworn. Enmities eternally embraced.
And then came the meteor.
The Harkenwold Forest was no more, along with the vast majority of the four races. Tons upon tons of dust were thrown up into the air, covering the sky and blotting out all light. For the first week it was chaos of the worst kind. And then after a week, once they all got their minds back together, they noticed it.
The Keep.
However it survived the impact The Keep sat there, at the center of the crater: dark, foreboding, and giving off an aura that caused all but the most courageous to sweat in fear. So the fearful sent the fearless. Fear does not stop questions: what happened? Where had the light, sun and moon, gone? What meaning was there to retrieve from the decidedly intact Keep? What, if anything, remained inside?
Their curiosity was so great that even their mutual hatreds allowed the four races to put their enmities aside, for however long they could stand.
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