Narrator:
I have seen countless dawns, countless battles, and countless souls broken and reforged beneath the weight of a single, terrible truth: power demands sacrifice.It begins at the lowest point, where hope feels fragile as a whisper in the dark.Where futures tremble on the edge of a broken rune.
Kingdom — The Squire
The morning light was soft and pale as it spilled through the narrow windows of the great hall, brushing the stone floor with cold gold.Elric's breath came shallow as he knelt before the altar — an ancient slab of carved stone, worn smooth by centuries of hands.
In his palm lay a small crystal, faintly glowing with a gentle pulse. The rune stone felt heavier than its size, as if it carried the weight of destiny itself.
"Focus, Elric." The voice of Master Serwyn was calm, almost gentle, but beneath it lurked years of hard lessons and unyielding discipline. "This moment will change you. The stone is not just a tool — it is a covenant. It will mark your soul forever."
Elric closed his eyes, fingertips tightening around the rune.His heartbeat thundered in his ears, every second stretching out into an eternity.
Then, with a sharp squeeze, the crystal cracked.Pain flared sharply—white-hot—shooting through his arm like wildfire.A faint light blossomed beneath his skin, and in his mind, a soft whisper stirred—a spectral wolf's glowing eyes opening in the shadows.
Elric swallowed hard, steadying himself."Spirit Rune," the master said quietly, pride and warning tangled in his tone.
This was only the beginning.
Raiders — The Gang Member
The sea wind bit at Kaela's skin, carrying the sharp tang of salt and old smoke. She crouched high above the deck on the mast, eyes narrowed against the gray horizon.
In her palm, a jagged black rune stone throbbed like a heartbeat. It was rough, chipped — a stolen treasure, whispered to be born from shadows and storm.
"Crush it hard." The grizzled elder's voice echoed in her memory, harsh and urgent. "Or the sea will claim you, just like the rest."
Kaela's hands trembled—not with fear, but with a wild fire she barely understood yet.Her teeth clenched tight. Slowly, deliberately, she squeezed the rune stone.
The crystal shattered with a crack that rang louder than the sea's roar.A fierce heat blazed through her veins, claws awakening in her mind, teeth bared in hunger.
Beneath her skin, something wild stirred. A beast's pulse — raw and hungry — ready to be unleashed.
Her gang below shouted and laughed, but Kaela's gaze was fixed far beyond the waves, on the distant lands ruled by those who thought themselves untouchable.
Tomorrow, the hunt would begin.
Barbarians — The Bloodmarked
Night cloaked the ash-stained camp, the only light the flicker of dying embers and the blood-red moon hanging low.Gorun knelt alone, fingers trembling as they closed around a glowing rune stone.
This was the final trial—the Bloodmarked rite—a brutal testament to survival.It was a moment of reckoning, where pain and power became one.
The stone pulsed rhythmically against his palm, alive like the beat of his own heart.
Gorun closed his eyes and let out a raw, guttural scream that tore through the night air.
With a crushing force born of desperation and rage, he shattered the rune.
Pain exploded like wildfire, tearing through muscle and bone with fierce, scorching heat.Behind his closed eyelids, flickering flames danced wildly, untamed and hungry.
War was his destiny—but could he master the inferno within, or would it consume him utterly?
Undercroft — The Student
Beneath the city's sprawling streets, in a chamber shrouded by shadows and silence, Lysa sat cross-legged on cold stone.
Her hands trembled as they held a trembling rune stone — unstable, dark, and humming with corrupt power.
Her mentor's voice broke the silence, cold and sharp:"Unstable runes are a curse as much as they are a gift. Control it, or it will consume you."
Lysa's breath caught. Slowly, she crushed the stone in her palm, feeling its corruption pulse through her veins like poison.
The air thickened around her, shadows lengthening and twisting unnaturally.
A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through her mind — visions of fractured futures and broken worlds flashing behind her eyes.
The secrets of the Undercroft were not made for the faint-hearted.And Lysa was beginning to understand why.
Narrator:
Four stones.
Four souls, bound by pain and promise.
The war is only beginning.
And I, the watcher, remain—silent, unseen.Watching kingdoms rise and fall beneath the crushing weight of rune magic.