"a curse on you all!"

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.

“My people are suffering. Our people are suffering. How could you- how dare you? Have you forgotten what our mother asked of us? Guard them, guide them. How could you!”

“Once upon a time... a goddess disappeared and to fill her place, her five daughters took their place as the leaders of their world. People of Phaendros were created by the first goddess, and they survived. The Five took their place, and they thrived. The people of the five nations were taught language, peace, art, war, and order. They took what the goddesses gave to them- and their world exploded with life. They grew, they developed, but they never forgot who gave them their cultures. 

    The beginning of the world- of Phaendros- is a tale every child knows, passed down from parent to progeny. Told at night over dying embers or in houses of the holy- but now most commonly, on the road to a desperate salvation. The hundred-year drought has forced people of Corrassain from the north into the east, west, and south. Not only people now, but the goddesses of the Daxin and Keveños have gone to their people in Phaendros, saying enough is enough.

    If blood or ichor must be spilled-so be it. Enough have died.