The land of Relme was once again divided. Disputes over trade and currency issues had taken their toll on the kingdom. The division between the north and the south has now caused a split between the two territories and created two separate kingdoms. War has broken out, and too many people are dying on both sides. But no end to the war is in sight. The Battle of the Rhinor Field had been one of the bloodiest affairs of the war so far. The ground was now littered with corpses and the stench of rotting flesh. All who managed to survive had left the scene and fled to safety, save for one. Garrin was only half-conscious. His mouth was parched and his head hurt. The gash on his shoulder was almost unbearable, but he had dealt with pain before. His legs were weak, and he had no strength to lift himself. He could barely move as it was. He could only think of home now. How he longed to be back with his family, with his friends. These would be the last thoughts of his life.