A far away growl slowly begins to build growing louder and louder. A young Neran boy glances up from his worktable towards an old family heirloom, a picture frame hanging from the wall. Contained within it, not only a painting, but forgotten beginnings sit. A beautiful depiction of an endless blue sky, with clouds that look to be made from the purest of white cotton. Never ending rolling green hills where every blade of grass seems to be waving you over. Beckoning you to explore its virgin ground. In the middle both sky and land meet, for what seems like the first time. Yet, something looms over what otherwise would be a joyous engagement. A large grey monolithic stone, perched on top of the tallest hill, looks over the landscape with disdain and its juxtaposition brings with it an ominous feeling. Could this cold hard invader have been placed by one of the Virtori gods? Maybe a vice bent on taking over an otherwise awe-inspiring landscape? Or was it placed by a virtue for some unknown purpose of keeping the peace between the sky and the land? However, on closer inspection its true purpose is known. Not placed by a virtue or a vice but by a being with intentions somewhere in between. As the silhouettes of soldiers and horses become clear the once monolithic rock morphs into a small but towering garrison and the birth of Stormmoor manifests.

The picture frame begins to shake as the far away growl turns in to a close rumble. The young Neran boy rises from his workstation and wanders outside. Situated on the main road to the castle, a few buildings away from the castle gate the boy’s family tailor shop is well situated to see the comings and goings of Stormmoor. A far cry from the stone tower from long ago, Stormmoor has become a bustling center for defense and trade. Positioned on the porch of his family’s shop the Neran boy glances down the street, like a sparkling diamond in a coal mine, glistening metal armor catches his eye. The thunder of hoof beats announces the arrival of the finest cavalry in the grasslands. Luxurious onyx black and blood red cloaks, a testament to the tailors of Stormmoor, denote that these knights are part of the fighting force for Baron Bayerd of Stormmoor. They seem to be in a hurry as the horses’ rush past the menagerie of brightly colored structures. Red, blue, yellow, green, and purple establishments all dot main street with life and character, a stark contrast to the large foreboding silver-grey stone walls of the castle. Tailors, musicians, textile makers, livestock keepers, farmers, animal trainers, merchants and millers line the street in front of their various shops and homes. With smiles and cheers they greet the returned knights as they pass. Throughout the Duchy of Thorne Baron Bayerd’s forces are known as the go to force for all military needs. The Calvary unit is feared and respected across Elyria but here in Stormmoor as the knights pass their friends and neighbors their serious demeanor seems to lighten. The Neran boy watches intently taking in every detail of the scene, a knight passes and waves and the boy waves in turn.

After living his whole life in Stormmoor he can’t help but fantasize about where they had been. Maybe they have returned from fighting the invading army in the west, or the group of bandits who have been stealing from merchants along the southern trade route, or from exploring ancient sites. As the mounted group reaches the gate three of them break off and head towards Stormmoor’s Grand Cathedral. With flowing arches and glorious stained glass, the Cathedral is known as the pinnacle of Neran architecture. The boy notices one of the riders carries a large package in hand. Instantly, he recognizes the rider as one of the commanding officers of Stormmoor. It all becomes clear now; they must have been on a mission for the Virtori church. Lately, Baron Bayerd had been working on various secret missions for the Virtori church. Most people hadn’t noticed or even cared for that matter, but the boy wasn’t most people. He hurried inside grabbing an ink well, quill and parchment feverishly he began to write, “Cavalry contingent returned. Large package in hand. Appears to be Virtori mission. Must act now.”