Dominion Lore

**Welcome to the world of Dominion!** – A place where magic, technology, and Heroes of all kinds unite to fight the darkness! In this page you can find (almost) all known lore of Dominion. Find how Rufus befriended the demon Rakashi, the origin of titan artifacts and their summoning circle, or what the heck happened at Ghirwhirl City, and what lies in the abode of the masters...

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#### Aidan

No clear background. He and his sister, Kayla, are the last of the ashen elves. He is king of their homeland, which is a wasteland because of Kayla´s apparent rampage of fire. not much more is known. (open to future editing)

#### Alvanor

No clear background. For thousands of years he slept in his sacred grove, starting before the invasion of darkness. He awoke because of dreams of the destruction of other groves and left his sanctuary to join the ranks of the guardians. (open to future editing)

#### Amira

No clear background. Amira is a genie, who has played on the greed and lusts of many a soul, but in dominion, most do not know she was never chained to her lamp!

#### Andvari

“Yesssss!” yelled Ragni right into the face of the head examiner. The element of Fire had made its choice, causing her to erupt with joy! Before the examiner had a chance to wrinkle his nose at Ragni’s tactless and rude behavior, Siungur let out a yell just as loud, unable to contain his glee as he was favored by the element of Water.

Andvari, a contender for the element of Nature, was in another situation altogether. Despite his excellent forging and woodworking skills, vast knowledge of the history of the Elemental Spirits, incredible physical prowess, and strong determination, his target kept evading him. The young master offered his players to the Elder Oak, started a titanic fire in the Elemental Spirit, and forged an extraordinary neckpiece that could become a great artifact if the element so willed. All in vain.

But Andvari wouldn’t be Andvari if he were to give up hope, disheartened. The challenges only served to rouse him, and the enthusiastic master never noticed he was approaching the Ticku caves, an area located far enough from the eyes of the examiners and inhabited by the small people who lived under the mountain. The Tickuits were completely blind, peaceful, and trusting like children. Nobody could expect the cruelty they displayed when seeing Andvari.

“Food for our horrific Lord!” cried the Tickuits, dragging the captured Andvari into the caves. The unexpected attack caught him off guard.

“Bring him to the dining hall! The Lord will have a great supper!” the miniature cave dwellers chanted as they dragged their victim into the depths of the mountains, even though they didn’t look happy with themselves.

“Hold the chains tight! Our Lord will be satisfied!” the tiny folk closed in on Andvari while the local blacksmith grunted and swore under his breath, binding him in chains.

In half an hour, the shackles embedded into the wall were forever locked on the young master’s hand. The Tickuits picked up their possessions and scurried out of the hall, leaving Andvari alone as he gazed apprehensively into the dark abyss. The abyss from which the mysterious and obviously vicious Lord was about to appear. The master examined the shackles carefully, realizing he couldn’t unlock them himself. He kept pulling the chain, trying to break the rock, but there was nothing he could do. Minutes turned into hours, the hours turned into...

“Stop it,” a thought occurred to the master. “What are you doing, Andvari? What do you actually want?

What does it matter what I want?” replied he to himself, remaining surprisingly calm. “After all, I’m going to perish in these caves, and nobody will ever know what happened. And to make matters worse, I won’t even pass my exam.”

“Finding excuses, are you?” continued the voice in his head. “Sounds like you don’t have a purpose. You lost it.”

“No!” shouted the master aloud. The darkness rippled around him, as though coming to life.

“Andvari, Andvari!” whispered the master to himself. “He is coming, and you’ll have to show what you’re really worth if you want to deserve the element.”

The master looked at the shackles that were holding his arm in an iron grip and the bruises spreading around it. Then he turned to look into the abyss, clearly seeing something move in the darkness. He pulled his arm without the tiniest shred of hope to weaken the grip of the iron trap. Meanwhile, something dragged itself up from the abyss, scratching its claws against the stone floor and spreading a suffocating stench in the cave. Andvari pulled his arm again, and then again, with more force. Then he stopped for a moment, and yanked it towards himself with all his might.

Blood! It seemed to have covered the cave’s floor entirely. The shoulder his arm had been attached to a moment ago had turned into a crimson mess. The master rushed to the exit, cradling the gaping wound with his other hand. His head was about to burst, as though something was trying to find its way into Andvari’s brain. Everything was going dark before his eyes, but a source of light appeared in the cave: the gigantic monster’s eyes studied the master, gazing at him like two blazing torches. A long, heavy tongue slipped from between the creature’s jaws in anticipation of fresh meat. The beast slowly approached its target, its gaze unwavering.

“Let me help you, drommer,” offered the monster, suddenly covered in light fur.

“Come play with me, cute little drommer!” continued the beast. Its eyes growing larger, even starting to seem cute. “Follow me...”

“This is the Illusioner!” flashed the thought in Andvari’s mind. He shook his head, escaping the delusion, and leapt at the monster. He slipped through its paws, turned around swiftly, and sank his teeth into the back of the beast’s head, trying to constrain his foe with his legs and remaining arm. He bit, and bit, and bit again... The monster flailed wildly, rolling on the floor, scratching its back with its claws and further wounding Andvari. The Illusioner and the drommer’s blood gushed freely. But Andvari was growing weak. Red and green circles started appearing in the darkness before his eyes, reminding him there was just a little time left. Soaked in blood and slippery, his hand lost its grip on the beast, causing Andvari to instinctively move his other shoulder to secure it. And he succeeded! A stone shoulder appeared in place of the crippled arm, followed by a forearm and hand, strangling the monster on the spot. The vines suddenly growing across Andvari’s other arm pierced into the monster’s skin, crushing the Illusioner’s core – the organ that enabled it to conjure mental images – in one fell swoop.

The Illusioner immediately shrunk in size, cowering and letting out a pathetic whimper. When Andvari shoved it away, it quickly fled into the cave.

When the drommer examiners found Andvari, he wasn’t even trying to exit the cave. His body covered with wounds, he kept practicing with his new power over the element of Earth, literally earned through blood and sweat. Once the Illusioner had been neutralized, the Tickuits snapped out of their trance. Realizing what they had done, the tiny people rushed to fix their mistake. They invited the drommer inspectors right into the cave to let Andvari savor his triumph.

Never before had Ghirwil City witnessed such an examination! Glory to you, Andvari! You deserve this victory!

#### Arachne

“Move it! Get on, get on with it! Come on!” yelled Warga, her voice so loud it drowned out the roar of the engines. “We’ve got moments left to finish disembarking, and you’re all just crawling around like a bunch of Hoortha slackers! Everybody follow Arachne! Move it!”

Wind and rain joined as one lashed wetly across the faces of the fighters. Vice Commander Arachne Zenth-ar settled her hair and frowned. Since morning her heart had beat uneasily, a troubled rhythm of problems to come. The girl chased her gloomy thoughts away. Why waste time brooding in the face of a waiting battle, one of the greatest joys in any Hoortha mercenary’s life.

The powerful engines of her jetpack gently settled Arachne on the rocky surface of the planet Tarus. “Code 4!” she ordered. Arachne couldn’t match Commander Warga’s force of conviction by a long shot, but the fighters heard and acknowledged her call. Hundreds of elite Hoortha system soldiers moved forward, bringing death and destruction to every adult specimen of the local race. Hoorthians were mercenaries, just following orders.

But then things went sideways: for some unfathomable reason, the denizens of Tarus, well known to carry and rear their younglings on a separate, artificial satellite, decided to bring all of their females and progeny planetside. It was the start of a true bloodbath! Mothers grabbed their children and the male warriors forgot to defend themselves, trying to protect their families. Something snapped in the once merciless and invincible vice-commander...

Arachne turned to her subordinates. “Stop the attack!” shouted the young warrior. Flabbergasted, the fighters looked at Arachne in confusion, but still lowered their weapons. “We will not kill the younglings - that was not part of our orders. Do I make myself clear?” she looked around, her gaze questioning. “Hold the high-handedness!” Warga herself appeared from behind the fighters. The commander’s steel limbs glinted dangerously in the light of the moons. “Continue the operation!” Several warriors hesitated, but in a minute they were back to their bloody business.

Warga smiled. “Good for them, they will go a great way yet.” she deactivated the safety on her weapon. “But what am I supposed to do with you now?” “I’m carrying out my orders. Nothing more, nothing less.” “How sensitive, would you look at that! You’re just peachy with butchering the whole planet, but as soon as we get to a bunch of blubbering newborn babies, all your courage just dries up?

What happened to the woman that planned to displace me at the helm?” “Warga, I’m just a fighter. It never occurred to me to claim your position. That said, I’m sorry, but I refuse to kill children.” “Oh, why are you humans all so delicate!” “Humans?” Arachne tensed up.

*This article is missing information. You can help Hero Wars Wiki by expanding it.
Details: Unofficial machine translation of this page from here on*
And this is already getting interesting ... Warga answered with a smug smile. Do you think that these people are Hoorthians? How can you be so dumb! We all even look different! The children you protect, just like you once did, will become our soldiers. This is the goal! Hoortha system is an artificial intelligence that gathers children into the best army in the galaxy to change them, to make them unquestioning killers who do not ask unnecessary questions. We have sent a fake signal to trap the offspring of Tarus. Well, which of these little assholes will survive today, who will be honored to fight in the Arenas of Death for the title to become a Hoortha soldier and maybe even get into my squad?

For the next two hours, the bound Warga writhed in pain in toothless rage - incisors, fangs, and sharp thorns were knocked out by Arachne Zenth-ar, once an obedient Hoortha fighter. The rest of the soldiers, obeying the hierarchy, did not dare to disobey the order of the rebel superior in rank. To be honest, they did not even pay attention to the fact that Arachne was gathering the children of Tarus on ships - Hoortha fighters were mercenaries and carried out orders, massacring the entire adult population of the planet.

Many years have passed since that incident. The children rescued on Tarus were taken to another planet of this race. Arachne herself is still hiding among the infinity of worlds. Now her home is the Dominion. But for how long, if not - who knows? }}

#### Artemis

Night. Mom is cooking something in the kitchen. It smells bad, but the girl knows that it is necessary. Mom has a lot of different herbs, and each of them has special properties. Artemis pulled the blanket higher and continued to watch her mother in silence. She scurried around the kitchen, constantly adding seasonings, dried rodents, and handfuls of colorful berries to the brew.

"This must be something very useful!" thought the girl, and, closing her eyes, fell into a deep sleep. The woman in the kitchen knew that her daughter was watching her, so she took her time. It was only when Artemis was asleep that her mother went to the bed and pricked the girl's finger with a sharp awl, catching a few drops of blood in a small cup. The girl didn't even wake up. Of course! Before going to bed, the prudent woman added the right herb to the tea. Sleep, Artemis, you still have a lot to do ...

When the girl woke up, she ran outside. From behind the forest that surrounded their house, the timid rays of the sun rose. My mother didn't like too much sunlight, so she always went to bed for dinner. But it was early in the morning, and Artemis had an important task ahead of her: she and her mother would go to where people lived! The daughter had long asked her mother to introduce her to them, but people rarely appeared in their house and disappeared almost immediately. The girl was strictly forbidden to leave the forest. The time has finally come for Artemis to see the other inhabitants! The girl took a travel bag with her most expensive things. Among them was an old crossbow that my mother had said had come from my late father.

Two hours later they came to the edge of a small village. The mother boldly ran into the house, and the daughter, in joyful anticipation, after a minute's delay, hurried to visit. Instead of a warm welcome, she saw her mother plunging a thin stiletto into the man's chest. The girl ran outside in terror, only to see other women coming out of the houses with bloody knives. So much like my mother! Each of them carried a bowl of brew to the center of the courtyard. Blood dripped from the blades into the potion. And, worst of all, the women were smiling!

Someone put a hand on her shoulder, and the girl shuddered when she saw her mother. For the first time in her life, she frightened Artemis. "So you've grown up, my girl," my mother gently but firmly held her daughter by the shoulder. "The time of initiation has come, where we will purify your blood from the human blood, from the blood of your father!" The women nodded, still smiling, and poured the contents of the bowls into a huge cauldron. Her mother said a lot more, and Artemis realized that she and her friends were witches, that her father, like the people in the village, had been killed. And the ritual that is happening now will turn the girl into the likeness of these ruthless killers. It was only then that Artemis realized why she had kept a small crossbow with several dozen arrows in her room. She realized that it was not for nothing that she had practiced with it at lunchtime while her mother was asleep. Artemis hadn't turned into a witch yet, so the sunlight only brought joy.

The girl drew her weapon and killed several witches with one shot. They did not immediately realize what was happening and paid with the death of several more friends. Within a minute, only my mother was left alive. Artemis did not dare to kill her and before leaving the village she said: "Now it is clear that I am the daughter of a witch hunter. This is the blood you wanted to banish from your daughter. I will not kill you as you killed my father but know this: the witch tribe will come to an end. I'll be the new hunter!"

With these words, the girl ran away into the forest, and a few months later she was taken on training by several talented heroes. The rumors that these people were from the Guardian squad were confirmed when Artemis became a full member of their squad. Since then, the brave huntress has reached unprecedented heights in the possession of weapons and has performed many glorious feats.

#### Astaroth

The day his snow-white wings turned to unquenchable flames, bringing endless agony, Astaroth realized that his father's love was not infinite...

Being God's son wasn't hard at all – or so the young angel thought at the time. All you had to do was wear a beatific look, and then while dad wasn't watching you could do whatever you liked. Gods are odd like that: they can foresee any action when humans are involved, but are barely able to watch over their own offspring. Or did father know everything, merely waiting for his child to grow up and see reason?

In short, Astaroth made the best of his time, messing with the puny humans, making fun of his siblings, and even mocking Archangels. Indeed, what's there to be afraid of when your dad's God?

An affair with the young demoness Lilith was, ultimately, the limit of his father's patience. Heaven and Hell know almost everything about each other, as they carefully watch the balance of power, making sure there is no conflict of interest.

Because of this, a relationship with Lilith would have been impossible had the reckless angel not employed a fateful trick: Astaroth assumed the appearance of Archdemon, a promising warrior.

Strong, muscular, and rough of manner, as though he had stepped right out of an artist's rendition of Hell. And so Astaroth enjoyed putting up this pretense, until he went too far. The demoness, surprisingly for a creature of the Nether World, fell head over heels in love with Archdemon. The reckless angel called her his wife, and Lilith was happy as she had never been before.

Yet this was merely another of Astaroth's whims, which he predictably soon grew bored with. He returned to his father's house, while Lilith threw herself hopelessly into the search for her missing husband. She left her home and wandered about, asking passers-by about him, only for them to casually reply that he had found happiness with another woman, a mortal. Archdemon bore a grudge against Astaroth for the foul trick, but the angel laughed at him, knowing that Hell's denizens could not travel to the Great Above. He was weeping with laughter when he suddenly realized that his snow-white wings had turned to unquenchable flame, causing eternal suffering. It was then that he understood that his father's love was not infinite...

Banished from Heaven and despised by Hell, Astaroth was filled with spite and hatred for all living things. He joined the Guardians to fight fiercely against Archdemon's hordes and earn the right to return home. His plans were thrown in disarray when Lilith, whom he had jilted, joined his squad. Whether the fallen angel has repented or is contemplating new malice, we have yet to find out.

#### Astrid and Lucas

Background: "He's so stubborn, oh yes he is!" she wiped her tearful eyes with her dirty hands, leaving stains on her face. "My father, the king of Ghirwil City, is so fixated on progress and his own scientific developments, he completely forgot that the mountain is our home! Nature needs our care. If my own father won't listen to reason, I'll go ahead and do everything as I must, without those excuses for advisors and the other sycophants!"

Astrid hit her fist against the dust covering the tunnel colonnade, plunking herself down on the floor. She closed her eyes and braced herself against the cold wall, trying to calm down. A noise in the eastern tunnel disrupted the girl's musings. She could distinctly hear the rambling speech of several drommers. She found their intonations odd, and the topic they were discussing even more so.

"The ritual... hummm... we can begin the ritual soon. The Lord is aware that I... that we're doing our best," spoke one voice. "All day long, all day long, all day... We implant crystals into those who didn't accept our Lord right away! whispered the other. "Drommers alone won't be enough. We've obtained a new batch of animals. They grow quickly, and they'll accumulate more energy than any local resident" proclaimed the third voice, the loudest and most confident of the three. "I'm ready... ready to implant crystals into them all! The more crystals we implant, the more sacrifices we make. And the more sacrifices we make, the more energy we provide to our Lord!" the second voice murmured again.

Astrid tensed up. "What the... What Lord? Why would he want sacrifices...?" thoughts flashed in her mind. "Also, what animals are they talking about? There are hardly any animals in Ghirwil City, none larger than a mole!" The girl rose up and followed the voices, making sure to remain unnoticed. The voices never ceased.

"The king shall fall. Mmmaa... ummm... His fate is madness!" bleated one, his voice meek and unpleasant. "The masters won't help. Everyone, everyone will go mad. Everyone." whispered the next.

Astrid grew dizzy upon hearing the drommers mentioning her father, blood rushing to her head. She thought wistfully, "Dad, you're so immersed in science you can't even notice a betrayal under your very nose!" The girl proceeded further, down to a spot where the tunnel merged with a spacious hall. She could hear a loud clattering noise in it.

When the entire scene came into her view, Astrid found herself at a loss for words... There was no room left in the hall because of cages housing drommers of all ages and different clans, terrified looks on their faces. The captives were led up to a platform one by one, and the cultists, obviously fanatics, drove large Titanite crystals into their skulls with a hammer. The eyes of each victim rolled upwards at once, only to take on a dull and insane gaze when they returned. On top of that, each subject began whispering something about the Lord. Astrid diverted her gaze, unable to bear witness to such atrocities. Suddenly, she saw a cage standing at a distance from the others. A wondrous beast restlessly circled inside, growling and hissing. It resembled a cat the girl had seen in pictures in the Book of Tales.

Astrid, an avid champion of nature, didn't think another instant as her heart fluttered. The girl approached the cells holding the drommers captive and unbolted the doors of the nearest ones. Then she stepped up to the cage with the beast and opened it, jumping away at once. All because the beast seemed to be about to attack her, growling and baring its fangs. The crystals in its head swayed gradually as the predator prepared to leap at the girl. Astrid backed away, grabbed the first rock she could find, and flung it at the giant feline. A couple of the largest crystals split off from the beast's with a pitiful shriek head, leaving the animal to waggle its bushy head in confusion. It growled and fled, casting one last glance at Astrid.

The girl hurried to unbolt the other cages, ignoring the cultists running after her, their dark deeds abandoned. The drommers who had regained their freedom were too weak to help their rescuer. All they could do was drag themselves away from their captors. The circle of pursuers was closing in, and it wasn't long until Astrid found herself trapped without any chance to escape.

"Is this how I die," she thought, "turned into a madman like those poor souls with Titanite piercing their heads...?" Astrid prepared for one last battle, she wasn’t going to let them take her alive! Suddenly she heard a noise from beyond the corner of the hangar. It grew louder and louder, turning into a cacophony of sounds. And then, a mass of snarling teeth and claws tumbled into the chamber, sweeping the cultists aside in its path...

Once everything was over, the wild cats fled, all except one. The cat Astrid saved settled beside her with a matter-of-fact air. And then, it started to clean itself, starting with a spot inappropriate to even mention in polite society. "Did you only just realize that I'm not going to harm you, silly?" smiled Astrid. "Meow!" responded the animal. "Lucas! That's right! I'll name you Lucas!" Astrid exclaimed. "Purr, purr, purr," replied the ‘cat,’ not seeming to object to its new name. "Thank you," the girl uttered in a suddenly serious tone. "If you don't mind becoming my friend, I'll take you to meet my dad, King Khornak. There's a lot we have to tell him." "As long as it's not too late..." thought Astrid as she exited the hall with Lucas cheerful hopping along.

#### Aurora

There's no safer and more prosperous place in the world than Riversar! Washed by the waters of the Sacred River the land of the elves is truly marvelous! But there are persons who try to escape the calmness, avoid the peaceful rhythm of life. And that's the story of the warrior named Aurora.

The dreams of military service weren't understood in her native lands which were spared from the wars. And why does a beautiful elvin girl coming from a happy family need battles, when you can study architecture and music! But Aurora's desire was so great that she ran from home enlisting in the Kharun's army.

Exhausting training, fresh scars from regular battles, sleepless nights on patrol and taunts from fellow men-warriors – Aurora put up with all of it for the sake of her goal. Once in a while when it was really difficult the girl silently prayed to her patroness Temari.

One morning alarming news came from Riversar: treacherous elves who chose the side of darkness opened the gates for the Lord of Chaos. With no delay Aurora went home. She was winning a battle after battle with the servants of Chaos. Like a whirl she struck enemies freeing villages and their people. The villains were shocked with what a single warrior is capable of. But when Aurora had no more power left she missed a poisoned blade and fell unconscious.

The girl woke up in captivity, in the lair of her enemy. Notorious monsters and executioners tortured her day and night, trying to make her acknowledge the new master. All the Chaos commanders came looking at the humiliation of the light elf who had struck horror in villains. But even when her wounded body turned into an ugly blood clot she wasn't going to give in.

Suddenly, the room filled with an unbearably bright light blowing up the torture room with everyone inside. When the light went out only Aurora was lying on the floor. And, lo and behold, completely transformed, beautiful and fresh, she looked even better than before! Aurora's hands and face were shining with a rainbow glow. Opening her eyes the girl realized that it was not in vain, and Temari helped eliminating the evil settled in Riversar. The gift received from the goddess made a Paladin out of Aurora, allowing the fearless warrior to serve for the good of her people.

#### Celeste

Kayla was happy. Her eyes burned with a bright fire, pouring out energy and passion, which is quite characteristic of a person of her age But another reason that made her cheeks blush, and his eyes gaze dreamily into the distance, was Count Noctus. Gallant and courteous, he was smart, slender, and possessed a wonderful, albeit somewhat dark sense of humor. Kayla was truly fascinated by him! It's a pity that the mother didn't share her daughter's joy.

"He's no match for you, Kayla", said her mother. "You'd better break up."

"Why, mother? What's wrong with him?"

"Our family has always worshipped the Sun, and the count, as I see it, is inclined to the opposite."

"That's prejudice! Your faith is stupid! One day I'll marry the count anyway, I won't need your blessing!"

And the day came. They were secretly married in the family chapel of the aristocrat. In a strange chapel, I must say. But Kayla wasn't there before. She paid no attention to the black roses that adorned the altar, to the guests, among whom were not the bride's parents, but there were unsmiling personalities in gray capes. "Little things!" Kayla brushed aside the bad thoughts, "the main thing is that I will be together with my beloved!"

The wedding night was great! Candles, music, and cozy draperies created a sense of calm and joy. It was a real love night! In the morning, when Kayla woke up among the sheets, she called her beloved, but no one answered. Having dressed, the girl got up and looked around. By day, the room didn't look so romantic: the wax of the burned-out candles was covered with centuries of dust, and the tapestry draperies were moth-eaten. But the most unpleasant thing was that the doors to the outside turned out to be closed. Kayla first waited, then called, screamed, punched, all in vain. Only a day later, the count entered the room with several servants. A tray of food and a change of clothes were brought to the girl. But the young wife looked only at her husband. Where did the former courteous man with his subtle humor and impassioned speeches go?

"You are called to give birth to a child that will belong to me, Count Noctus, and my priests of the Night", the count said dryly and roughly.

"After birth, I release you from your responsibilities as a mother and wife", he continued.

"But...", Kayla only dared to say.

"Do you understand, my dear 'little wife'? Go and eat. My unborn child shouldn't go hungry!"

The doors slammed shut, and Kayla was left alone.

The girl spent seven long months locked up. She experienced despair, fear, hatred for herself and the count. Until, finally, the mind cleared, leaving room for cold calculation. For the next two months, day after day, Kayla secretly sawed through the heavy window frame, and at night she dreamed about her daughter (she felt that she was going to have a daughter!). She could feel her growing and rejoicing when twilight came.

"The night won't take you away from me, Celeste", Kayla whispered. "You will see the sun and love it!"

"And you, mother", continued the girl, "can you forgive me?"

Finally, the frame gave way, and the ray that fell on the girl's shoulder seemed to say: "Catch the sun to save your child! Hurry up!" As she descended a rope of torn clothing, she fell and twisted her ankle painfully. And now, limping and stumbling, Kayla ran down the overgrown path. She was on the verge of giving birth, so fast movement became real torture for the girl. Meanwhile, the sun was hiding behind the horizon. She had to, had to catch up! The child tossed about in the stomach, feeling that Kayla was moving away from the castle.

Catching a stray sunbeam in her palm, she heard the words inside her head again: "The sun is your salvation. Run to the sunset, to the Green Slope, so that you can bathe in its rays." Gritting her teeth, Kayla rushed forward, ran as hard as she could, but by the time she reached the cliff, the last rays of the sun were already crossing the horizon.

"It's over!" This thought flashed through her mind like a fiery explosion.

"Believing is enough to turn back time, my daughter", said a woman's voice behind her.

"Mom! Tears flowed from her eyes. Mom, forgive me!"

The woman raised her hands to the sky and began to pray. For a moment nothing happened, and then slowly, like an awakened bear, the sun began to return to the firmament. One by one, the rays shot out from the horizon, bathing Kayla in light. The girl closed her eyes, surrendering to the will of the sun and the mother, its priestess. The daughter inside her cried and Kayla even feels the bitterness of her tears... But then joy flooded her with warm rain.

Four days later, far away from the castle of Noctus, Kayla became the mother of the lovely Celeste, whose plump pink face was framed by curls of blond hair, and her blue eyes shone with love. The sun helped, and the mother was absolutely happy!

But if someone looked at the baby at night, they might think that the girl's eyes were red, that the lips were twisted in a predatory grimace, and the absolutely black hair was crossed obliquely by twisted horns. No, no, that can't be right. It seemed!

#### Dante

He couldn't remember how many times spring followed autumn. He wasn't happy with the birds and sunbeams that settled on his hard shoulders for brief moments of rest. He was a statue, a hewn stone replica of an unknown four-armed creature by an unknown artist, standing in the forests of Wilheim since time immemorial. The indifferent giant, armed with spears, had carried out this strange service for dozens of years in the snow, rain, and wind - he didn't care at all. Sometimes wars broke out nearby, or a careless traveler started a big forest fire — no emotions. The statue simply didn't have them! So the years passed until one girl collapsed on the pedestal.

Her face was wet with tears, and her clothes were stained with blood. Her whole body dirty and her hair disheveled, her eyes rimmed red from crying, cuts spotting nearly every bit of bare skin.

The girl sprawled at the base, breaking the idyllic forest landscape. The pale skin of the stranger, deep crimson splashes spotting her dress - everything seemed wrong, terrifying. The stone warrior stood by as an unconcerned statue.

The girl's eyelids suddenly snapped open, her pupils dilated rather manically, a trickle of blood flowing slowly but surely from the corner of her mouth. The bloodied lips forced themselves to whisper: "Leticia... Robert... baby Jocelyn... Mom, Mommy!" A single drop of -- what? -- rolled down the statue's cold cheek. Had it started to rain?

"Sweet home, my betrothed... where are you?" continued the wounded stranger in a hoarse, broken voice. "The darkness destroyed everything I loved... Now she wants... my soul..." The statue's hand suddenly trembled, as if it were alive. Had time weakened the ancient stone?

And then the trees that grew nearby fell as if they had been knocked down. The image of a tall, statuesque woman in black robes appeared from the shadows and slowly took on a somewhat pretty, yet terrible form.

"Ah, there you are, my dear!" she said with a little smirk and took a step forward. "The last survivor of my long-hated Wilheim. This does put us in a bit of a situation, doesn't it?"

"Sylfide." the girl rasped, her eyes clouded with pain, clutching her bloody side, struggling to rise. "No matter how many of our lives and souls you take, you will not be satisfied with them, because you are empty... and hateful... your heart forever dark.. the Spawn of Darkness will forever suffer from hunger..." She glared with steely determination at her attacker, blood now streaming down her legs.

The woman in black's face hardened. She scowled and something that looked like a black lightning bolt appeared in her hands, cracking with energy -- and certain death for the already fatally wounded girl.

"Perish!" she yelled and pierced her victim with the bolt.

Boom! Blood splattered in a dark red streak on the statue's pale stone, and the girl fell, crashing against the statue and slid down, dead, her hair matted with blood, her eyes wide with shock, her hands splayed and wide open, her chest, which had been struck by the dark lightning, sizzling and black. From her open palm tumbled a medallion in the shape of a heart with the name "Dante", faded from time. The woman straigtened and smirked, her murder done, she turned to leave.

Suddenly, the weapon in the hands of the statue flashed with an unbearably bright light. The statue shuddered, shook its head as if remembering something, and then swiftly raised one of the spears and hurled it at the killer. He threw the second spear, and then the job was done. The witch collapsed onto the grassy ground, staring up at the stone giant in fear and amazement, then sprawled unmoving at his feet, the two spears jutting out of her chest.

Then suddenly, she melted into shadow, and was gone. The weapons clattered to the ground, and the statue slowly picked them up.

The stone warrior, until recently only an ancient statue, stood for a long time. Then he picked up the medallion which had fallen from the dead girl's hand, contemplated her corpse for a while, then straightened up and announced: "Someone else's pain and suffering touched me, and made me alive. But it is better to be a statue than to take away lives and souls. I don't know who else were killed, but I will protect this last legacy, this remnant of a fallen's life. I will henceforth be known as Dante, and oppose all who prey and torture the weak and defenceless, extinguishing their life!"

#### Daredevil

I understand that you are fed up with this psycho. But what can she do if she got her father's temper, who was a professional mercenary? Gossiping with girlfriends, school and all these girly things bored the hell out of Daredevil, and her mother didn't understand her tomboyish nature.

You wouldn't believe what was going on inside a young troublemaker's mind when she had to put a dress on just because “you're a girl!” However, she didn't know she would suffer so much after the death of her mother. Oh, how stupid those insults toward her parents seemed now!

After the loss of her mother the only soul mate left was the girl's father. Daredevil followed him everywhere he went and tried to take over all his habits. Father, knowing his daughter's special temper, taught her everything he could. Daredevil learnt how to shoot with both hands, make bombs, and got fit perfectly.

The girl didn't let women come to her dad, seeing them as nothing but a threat to their small family. You may say that was selfish, but it was a woman who eventually killed the father. A mercenary from a competing side orchestrated the death of Daredevil's other parent. Since that Daredevil is angry at all females for murdering his father, at herself for not saving him, and at the whole world in general. And you know what? Don't you dare blame her!

#### Dark Star

Graven, the city of dark elves, lies far to the east, among lifeless mountains. Being related to each other, dark elves and light elves have long been locked in an uncompromising struggle. The dark clans threaten to conquer all enemy lands, including Riversar, the main citadel.

Dark Star always stood out among other dark elves thanks to her light skin and silver hair. And it worried the girl. Men and women always avoided her: politely, but deliberately. Blaming it all on her different appearance, Dark Star dreamed of only one thing: to be like the rest of her kind. She tried dying her hair and skin, but it was no use. One day The Supreme mother Ammana summoned the girl and said, "You're cursed, child. And that's the work of the mages of Riversar! Eliminate the Sentinel, lift the curse, and you'll become one of us!" Dark Star knew that Riversar’s Sentinel was a magical artifact that made the citadel impregnable for the dark elves. It had been created several centuries ago by the greatest of the light ones, and not a single of their enemies had managed to break through its spell. How could she obtain something like that? She'd never even seen light elves before. Early in the morning, Dark Star was summoned by the Council of Mothers and learned that a weak point had been found in Riversar's defenses. The council told her that an army or a squad would made too much noise, and so Dark Star was offered the opportunity to obtain the artifact herself. She agreed immediately, as it was her only chance to become normal.

At the agreed time, the girl crossed Riversar's magical border. The Mothers were right: the Sentinel didn't notice her! Using a map drawn by her kin, Star got through to the heart of the city, located the artifact, and smashed it into pieces. At that very second, an army of dark elves entered the enemy territory, leaving mayhem in their wake. An hour later the attackers' leading squad reached Riversar’s walls. Dark Star gazed into a big mirror, her eyes dim, her appearance completely unchanged. She was starting to understand. And when a squad of light elves broke in, it all became clear. Dark Star didn't look like other dark elves because she wasn't one. She was a light elf. She'd been stolen as a child, to become a light elf that could destroy the Sentinel and open Riversar to the dark clans. Too cruel to be true... When Star came to her senses, fights were breaking out all over the place. Thousands of warriors clashed in a deadly battle! Since she was the cause of the bloodshed, she had to put an end to it.

Betrayed by her own kind, Dark Star made a desperate choice. Fueled by rage and recklessness, the girl rushed towards her target. Blood gushed out of Mother Ammana's neck. Dark Star didn't look away. She watched the life seep out of the woman who had ruined her. The death of the dark elf leader turned the tides of the battle. The attackers retreated, and Dark Star stayed in Riversar. But, having destroyed the Sentinel, she became an outcast among the light elves as well. The Riversar Court pardoned Dark Star, taking into account the role she played in the defense. But she was ordered to leave the city immediately. Paladin Aurora expressed some motherly attention towards the outcast and presented her to the Guardians. Since then, Dark Star has had a home and real friends. But the pain of betrayal has never left her.

#### Dorian

The sun bathed the streets in bright sunshine. The air was crystal clear, just like the thoughts of the young man skipping across the road towards the Poe orphanage. His parents had abandoned him right after birth, and he had no possessions whatsoever. Still, Dorian (as Headmaster Poe had named him), grew up as a cheerful and mischievous lad. He helped the nurses in the orphanage, kept order around the place, and was a kind and smart boy overall.

As the years passed, Dorian became a stately young man, chestnut brown curls tumbling down his broad shoulders. Except that his former cheerfulness waned. It was time for him to leave the orphanage, and the novelty and uncertainty of adult life scared him. What was he going to do for a living? How would he pay for food and shelter? Dorian turned out to be completely unprepared for all that. And what’s worse, he found himself head over heels in love with Poe’s daughter, Agatha. The young woman reciprocated his feelings and couldn’t care less about his lack of wealth, but he still blamed himself for being unable to pamper his beloved with fine silks and jewelry.

Dorian strode along the road pondering his situation, bright shop signs and displays gleaming around him in all their colors. Suddenly, something caught his interest. An unbelievably beautiful blood red jewel in an exquisite platinum setting, drawing him in like a magnet. In a minute, Dorian was already roaming the lanes and alleys, trying to cover up his tracks in case of pursuit. That very same amulet from the store was hidden in his coat pocket.

“I’ll give this precious pendant to Agatha, and she will love me more than ever!” thought the young man, a bit surprised at how heavy the amulet seemed to be. He clenched the stolen pendant in his fist and suddenly realized he would never, ever part with it. Dorian lifted his palm to see blood streaming out of it. It didn’t scare the young man at all. He hid in the shadows and pointed his bloodied palm at a lone stranger. With a muffled shout, the man dropped dead in the street. Dorian realized he would now be able to find shelter, money, and anything he pleased without any effort. That was certainly a beguiling idea...

In a year, the novice mage owned forty acres of land with a huge castle in the middle. The previous landowner made him his heir just before his death. The servants obeyed their new master in absolutely everything after witnessing their not-so-obedient colleagues wither under the master’s strange mystical powers. Dorian forgot Agatha and the Poe orphanage, only listening to the voice of Blood. Despite living in luxury, the Blood mage could not call himself his own master. He would leave his castle every day to carry out heinous deeds and bring ill fortune to hundreds, even thousands of people. The blood amulet made him obey its will. Many women were widowed, many children orphaned during the bloody feasts Dorian carried out at the outskirts of the empire. His eyes were the only thing that gave him away. Their twinkle was long gone, replaced with gloomy bleak fog. Those were the eyes of a slave who despised his current position. Had he been this way all along, that little boy who used to sneak up on the nurses and pull on their skirts for a prank?

The young man decided to gain the upper hand over the pendant. He gripped it hard enough for several drops of blood to appear on his palm. And the amulet awoke. It started calling for him, begging, demanding! Their struggle was so intense the mage’s eyes turned bloodshot. His mind screamed in agony, and his body was wracked with unbearable pain. It lasted several hours. Even with blood streaming from every pore on his body, Dorian would not give up. At last, the young man snatched a knife from the table and with it, he staked the hand holding the amulet to his own chest. A sudden surge of pain, the crunch of broken bone, and the jewel burst into a thousand pieces, which fell into the pool of blood gushing from his heart. The pressure from the amulet relented.

Dorian came to in a few days, alive and well. The jewel was whole again, feeding off of the mage’s blood. Now that their souls were merged together, it was time to become what he used to be, a young man whose eyes twinkled with kindness. His conscience, however, insisted that he would be unable to live a normal life until he atoned for his sins. Dorian accepted this responsibility, and came to the Guardians to tell them everything about what he had done. The heroes placed their faith in the mage and trusted him with using dark Blood magic for noble causes.

#### Elmir

What is a weapon? Good or evil, killer or protector? Who carries the blame for spilling a stranger's blood: the blade or the master?

By the order of zafir Sargor the Second, owning a weapon was prohibited under penalty or death. Only zafir, the ruler of the khaganate, and his guards had the right to bear arms. For a commoner, owning a weapon was a terrible crime, which spelled death for the transgressor.

But the young boy who managed to worm his way into the khaganate treasury had something way more interesting to think about. The street urchin had never managed to get this far before. With a proud look on his face, he strutted between piles of gold, his dirty fingers prodding at the diligently polished precious vases, cups and bowls. It wasn't the first time here for Elmir. He never took too much: just enough to survive. And yet, he kept finding new excuses to return. Quietly, he strolled in the quiet company of the piled-up gold, listening to something only he could hear. Then suddenly, he froze, as if a strange noise startled him, and briskly walked into the west chamber of the treasury. There again he stood still for a moment, listening intently, and confidently approached a small wardrobe full of precious cloth and rugs. As the door swung ajar, the boy finally saw what he had been looking for all this time: long, ornate blades adorned with a precious filigree of silver and gold. The very blades that beckoned the boy in his dreams, the reason why Elmir kept returning to the treasury time and time again in search of them. The street urchin grabbed both swords, and tripped up on a suit of intricate armor laying on the floor, falling flat as a strange feeling overcame him.

He felt as his body was about to split into four, each with a life of its own. Everything his translucent copies saw and heard, he saw and heard as well. But amazement gave place to horror when Sargor the Second's guards barged into the treasury to investigate the noise. Suddenly, Elmir's copies walked towards the guards and started to fight them on their own. Not being a skilled swordsman, the street urchin grabbed both blades with one hand to make a quick escape. And then, to the boy's great surprise, the blades joined together as if by miracle, and turned into an exquisite bow as a quiver full of well-crafted arrows appeared on Elmir's back. He heard a whisper in his mind, telling him how to draw the bow, raise the elbow, and take aim. Several minutes later, Elmir and his copies escaped the treasure room, the guards all lying dead on the floor.

Soon, the copies disappeared into thin air like a dream, and the street urchin found shelter in an abandoned home. Tired, exhausted, and completely confused, he was trying to understand what had just happened to him. And then he heard a voice, a voice clearly emanating from his newfound weaponry.

“We welcome you, Elmir, son of Tur Khazari born in secret. At last, we have found you: the last heir to the throne, son to a father murdered by the heinous usurper, Sargor the Second.” “Who are you and what do you want from me?” — the boy looked around in panic, trying to find the source of the voice. “We are the Blades of Many Truths, keepers of a secret discovered by enemy.”

The blades told the boy a story, a story of how the ancestors of the Khazari once provided great aid to the titans, and received a wonderful gift: legendary weaponry, ensouled and bearing immense power. A story of how Sargor the Second swore fealty to the Darkness, in return for the Cold Fire that brought all fifty blades to submission and made them serve him. Only the Blades of Many Truths managed to escape the king-slaying usurper.

All this time the blades had searched, calling out for the Khazari heir, to join him and bring retribution to the villain.

Elmir believed the weapons, and accepted the gift openly. Once a street urchin covered in dirt, the bastard son of the khaganate's true zafir took it upon himself to save his homeland and the legendary weapons earned by his ancestors. He managed to wrest the freedom of over three dozen blades from evil, but the rest disappeared along with Sargor and his retainers when the evil usurper escaped. Elmir joined the ranks of the Guardians to purge the Dominion of all Darkness, and rescue the weapons forged by the Light.

#### Faceless

*Fan-Made Lore by Jraiyanps105*

*The School of Mystics. One of the best known schools teaching magic. Faceless was one of many apprentices in the school. He joined when he was very young. Everyone was laughing and giggling at Faceless. " Wow, I wonder what spells you will learn!" "Probably how to squirt milk from his eyes!" All of this made Faceless very upset, but he did not let that stop him. He has loved magic since he was a kid. His parents were worried about his behaviour as he always wanted to stay alone and practice magic in his room. "What is wrong with you son! You know we don't like magic!" said his father. " But this is my passion father." he replied. " Whatever you dumb child." his father said in a harsh tone. At the School of Mystics he was given 2 of the best mentors at the school. When they looked at him they started whispering to each other bad things about Faceless. Faceless heard this a bit too well and started getting a heavy heart, but he remained dead silent. His mentors agreed to teach him magic. But what actually happened made Faceless disappointed. His mentors didn't teach him much at all! They just made him read books and taught him very basic things. Faceless started to become angry and said to himself " I don't need these terrible mentors, I will just teach myself!" So with that he went home and started practicing. At first he was very bad and did not know what he was doing. But as he kept practicing he became better and better. When he returned he could summon purple lighting to strike down his foes. One night while everyone was sleeping Faceless ran away from the school and wandered in the dark forest nearby, as he was walking he heard a cry of pain. Faceless ran to the source of the noise and found a young boy was being attacked by an orc, Faceless made quick work of the orc and reached down to help the boy but as he helping him up the boy froze, "Why is he staring at me like that?" Faceless wondered but then he too noticed what was wrong. His mask had fell off while he was fighting the orc. Faceless reached down and attached his mask again when he turned around for the boy. He found nothing, for the boy had ran back to his village to spread word about the mysterious magician that saved him. Soon the guardians noticed Faceless and invited him to join them in fighting evil, Faceless happily agreed as he could use his powers while knowing they were saving lives.*

#### Fafnir

No known lore. Please update if anything comes through the woodwork or was overlooked.

#### Fox

Mother Nature must have planned Fox as a boy. The fidgety, personality-packed troublemaker always kept her parents on their toes. She used to ditch her arts and crafts lessons, so popular among all the other young ladies. Her mom and dad eventually resigned themselves to the fact that they would never see their youngest offspring in a wedding dress. You’d have to be crazy to propose to her, right?

By her race’s standards, Fox was no great beauty, either: her ears too tiny, her body way too hairless. The girl knew this, so she made it a point to get on everyone’s nerves with her stubborn and shocking behavior. At first, women laughed at her antics, but soon enough the respect and support that Fox earned from their male counterparts made them stop chuckling. Little boys, young lads, mature men, and old geezers alike, they all followed Fox’s shenanigans with ceaseless interest. Why? Because nobody could handle weapons quite like the mischievous girl. She hand-crafted at least three dozen different gunpowder-using weapons and self-propelled cannons. Unfortunately, since Fox’s homeland hadn’t seen war for more than seven hundred years, the only use people found for her inventions was to distribute pest-killing poison in their gardens, trigger avalanches, and scare off mountain trolls. What’s more, Fox’s weapons were never as popular as her sister Annie’s devices. Annie outdid Fox in everything. Except for weapons, of course. Armament was outside of her sphere of interest: she considered weapon-making a pastime solely for men, and also quite pointless in a time with no war. At the time, that is...

One night the whole city was startled awake by a dreadful thundering and the smell of something burning. The streets shook with a rhythmic pounding, as though an unbelievably huge giant had come through town, crushing everything in his path. As it so happened, that was exactly it.

Panic broke out, everyone screaming and running, mothers rushing to save their babies. Fox, though, simply stood at her window, warming up her tiny hands.

It didn’t even occur to her that, deeply asleep in her special new earplugs, Annie was snoozing peacefully in the next room.

Something exploded out on the street, and several trees crashed down noisily. Men were dragging their belongings away from the debacle, and some even began to fight over each other’s possessions. Trying not to wake her sister and quietly whistling a popular tune to herself, Fox carefully started down the stairs to the workshop. There was a deafening roar, and a house three blocks away from Fox crumbled under the weight of the never-before-seen monster. Dust filled the air of the whole neighborhood, making the steps of the killer beast even more ominous.

Annie, still asleep, stretched, smacked her lips, and turned over in her bed. The earplugs stayed right where they were supposed to, protecting the girl’s delicate hearing from all sounds.

Fox put on her gloves, grabbed a heavy bucket, and filled it with strange black powder. The house across was burning: the monster had broken the gas pipes her sister Annie crafted with such love and care. “What a dunce,” thought Fox, pulling down the sheet covering a strange, giant structure hidden in a dark corner.

Then the fearless girl opened the door of her workshop, the monster’s hot breath burned her cheek. It took her a minute to load the Stormbreaker, her newest superheavy weapon, with black powder and take aim. And then she fired. The monster let out a horrible howl, clutched at its humongous stomach, crashing right into a wall of their lovely house, and dropped dead.

The dust kicked up after the fall made Annie sneeze in her sleep. That sneeze finally woke her up. Annie glanced around, her eyes still half-closed, and took in the picture before her: the destroyed town, the defeated monster, the cheering townsfolk. Then, she sneezed once more, and fell right back asleep.

The news of what Fox and her miracle weapon had accomplished traveled far beyond the town, reaching the ears of Emperor Ingvar himself. He invited the brave engineer to the capital and appointed her to a squad of valiant Guardians. Here, finally, was somewhere Fox could really let herself go!

#### Galahad

"Look mom, I'm a knight!" – little Galahad shouted swinging his wooden sword, – “C'mon, Mom, I'm really brave!”. Mother, tired from a long work day just smiled looking at her growing son. It's not easy raising a child alone, especially when the levies are becoming higher reducing the already meager wages of ordinary peasants.

The years passed, mother was getting old and Galahad, all grown-up, replaced her in the field. But even after all the work under the burning sun, the young man never stopped training with a sword, now with the iron one. Swing, chop, block! Sweat fills the young man's eyes, hands do not obey. Another strike! Loreen, Galahad's mother, was watching her son and waving from the porch, telling him that he doesn't need all that training and should rest. But her eyes were shining with an infinite love, hiding some long-standing mystery.

Once, in the middle of the day, Galahad heard someone screaming nearby. He dropped his hoe, grabbed the sword and rushed to the noise. A large group of heavily armed raiders surrounded a respected old man. Nevertheless, he was holding up. A sword was directed at the throat of one of the bandits, showing that the man didn't want to give up that easily. Taking advantage of the moment, Galahad rushed onto enemies and made them run away.

Since then the young man has become a faithful helper of Sir Raymond – that was the name of the man Galahad saved. All his life the famous knight has been serving his country and had no wife or children. Raymond and Loreen developed a strange relationship, these people seemed like they had known each other for years. The knight and his young protégé cleansed forests from the bandits and rescued people regardless of their ranks and titles. It seemed like everything was going in the right direction.

But happiness didn't last long. Some people envious to get his inheritance weren't OK with the lonely aristocrat's new friends. And when Galahad and Sir Raymond went on a hunt, one of the bribed servants fired at the young man. The knight turned his horse, pushed Galahad away and was wounded in the shoulder. The arrow was poisoned, and after a few agonizing days, Raymond died. But before his last breath, he gave Galahad a thick envelope.

It had inheritance papers inside, a note on the passing of the title and a letter in which Raymond shared that Loreen, Galahad’s mother, was his beloved whom he had to leave when he was sent to the war. And the young man was in fact his son. Hearing this story, Sir Galahad swore an oath worthy of his parent.

“I'm a knight!” – he exclaimed, waving his sword made of the legendary Kharunian steel, – “I will hold to the father's title and will always serve for the good of Dominion!”

#### Ginger

Ginger Hayes' fragile figure is the complete opposite to her rough character. A born noblewoman and a daughter of The Duke of Coldfield, Johnathan Hayes, she's not into social events. Ginger is annoyed with ladies gossiping and gentlemen looking at her expressively.

Science – that's what lady Hayes is really passionate about. Being a reclusive and silent child, she spent months without leaving her house. However the servants were always busy running to the store to get a new thing for the little genius. Whole rooms were filled to a brim with Ginger's inventions, but they were actually used only when the girl turned fourteen.

That year the plague was raging over Strongford and as if by someone's evil will the capital became flooded with the undead and other dwellers of the ruins near the Gravehall. Ginger started producing her own weapons and took control over the town's guard. Thanks to coordinated actions and red haired girl's courage Strongford was saved, and the monsters driven away.

Since that time lady Hayes has become a symbol and pride of her country. But the glory and laurels aren't what the scientist's looking for. And here we are again, locked inside her workroom Ginger is devising new means to protect her home.

#### Heidi

They can't even get a decent king for themselves, can they? – Heidi grumbled, carefully wiping his pet, an incredibly poisonous snake named Koba. Heidi doesn't like impostors, especially after what happened fifteen years ago.

Heidi was just a child when Gurjar visited the forest with his escort. Eclipsing the sun with his grandeur he looked like the most beautiful tiger ever. The newfound favorite's wise words flowed like a river, and the animals listened with admiration to every word the guest said. And nobody had doubts that he should become the new king of the forest.

In those days people and animals just began getting along with each other. It seemed like things would get even better with the new king. Gurjar quickly got into role, found the servants and made a schedule. Tiger's character proved to be quite difficult, and only those who met the regal's demands without question could get along with him. Relationship with people worsened as well – on the king Gurjar's orders the servants ransacked people's fields and villages. With time raids on villages grew into the attacks on cities. But the most terrible of it all was when the ruler's newborn son disappeared. The grieving king-father accused the forest dwellers of stealing. Furious and heavily armed men moved into the forest. Animals, angry at people for such a serious accusation, prepared for a fierce battle too.

But little Heidi acted in a different way. Being a disguise fan and knowing the forest like the back of his hand he went straight to the Gurjar's house. What he found didn't look like a king for one bit. A huge and furious demon was preparing to finish off the baby! What to do, how to stop the murder? Heidi grabbed the first thing he could and threw at the demon. The snake, that's what the hero threw at him, bit the demon. Surprisingly, it was more than enough to send the monster back to hell. The child was saved, and the people, learning that Gurjar was actually a demon, realized their mistake. The forest dwellers weren't guilty, and the evil demon wanted nothing but to make them hate each other. Thus, humans and animals were at peace again. A very poisonous snake Koba remembers it all as well – since that time they've become best friends with Heidi.

Kings, queens... – Heidi shook his hairy head, – You can live without kings just as well!. He spat on grass and after stretching his legs went to the Guardians' camp.

#### Helios

A few grimy boys were sitting on the porch of Burnout's shack, hiding their shoes from the rain.

"It's cold," one of them said. "Yeah, it's cold," the second said. "All right," whispered the third, shivering.

The group of ragamuffins sat there for another hour. Then, one by one, the children reluctantly went inside. Burnout's shack was their current home, and they didn't want to go back to it. The uncomfortable home could have been a real palace for street children, if not for Burnout himself — a vile and cruel tyrant, for whom the children worked like slaves.

Flocks of boys caught, tricked, or bought from slave traders, were begging on the streets of Strongford. They begged and begged for money from passers-by and gave Burnout everything they could get. The thieves got less out of this evil wineskin. Basically, beggars fell under the hot hand if they brought less than required in the evening. But Helios and Pax were in the direst situation. These poor fellows became whipping boys as soon as they came to the master: they begged badly and did not want to steal at all — they said that it was a dishonorable occupation. They tried to make money by juggling tricks, but all in vain.

Every time he got drunk, Burnout appeared in the beggars' room and severely punished the first teenagers he came across. After this, some of them agreed to engage in theft and along with their belongings moved to the thieves' room. The others, hiding their tears and rubbing their bruised places, climbed onto the sunbeds and waited for the dawn. On such nights, Helios could not close his eyes. Again and again, he turned over the white round stones in his hands that he loved to juggle in the street. They were his talisman, his only comfort, and outlet.

Another day on the street, begging. An unsuccessful escape of one of the street children. Punishment. Helios is awake again, shifting stones from hand to hand. One, two, three. The first stone, the second, the third...

Day again. Tasteless stew and a kick in the ass, in the cold of the streets. The passers-by this time served too few coins. Punishment. The first stone, the second, the third... A sleepless night. The first rays of the sun were coming in through the barred window. One stone, a second, a third, a fourth. Stop. What? Helios looked closer — there were indeed more stones. In the open palm of his hand lay a brightly glowing ball. "What a big solar sphere!" thought Helios. And from this thought, he suddenly felt so calm and good. He got up, dressed, and for the first time in a long time went out into the street with a light heart.

The solar sphere appeared and disappeared. The boy got used to it and was no longer surprised by its sudden visits. The shining ball shared Helios' interests — it jumped obediently and even with pleasure in his hands.

One night, Pax was gone. Helios shared a common misfortune with this small boy and now the drunken Burnout had simply swept him out of his way like unnecessary garbage. Everyone in the shelter realized that the trouble did not come alone. After losing in the tavern, this knacker was hungry for blood, he was beside himself. He walked toward the beggars' room, smashing furniture, dishes and wrecking children's lives on his way. This fanatic just went crazy!

Reacting quickly, Helios pushed the injured boys into the room and began barricading the door. Beds, chairs, brooms, everything went to work. But this was the end of the plan, and the doors trembled treacherously from the heavy blows of the killer. Helios clenched the hand that held the stones: one, two, three... The wounded teenagers begged for help, while the healthy ones stood rooted to the spot, not daring to move. Something had to be done. But what? The teenager clenched his fist even tighter and felt that there were not three stones in his hand, but four. At that moment, the doors shattered into pieces.

When Burnout burst into the children's room, he was met by unbearable sunlight, which fell from somewhere above in rays of pain. The villain waved his arms, trying to reach the children. He shouted, threatened... Until the glowing and flame-spewing spheres completely surrounded him, flooding him with a bright radiance. Burnout was finished.

Then the lights went out and the beggars, cured by the healing spheres, saw Helios standing with open hands, on one of which, like a small sun, a small yellow ball was gently swaying. Then it shrank and disappeared as if it had merged with the hand. The boy's eyes turned yellow at that moment, like the glow of the stars.

"You and I are one," Helios suddenly realized. "That's why you don't need the sphere to come to me again and again!" The warmth that spread through his body became a mute agreement.

Having comprehended and appreciated the new gift, Helios himself came to the Guardians and was immediately accepted into their ranks.

#### Iris

No known lore. Please update if anything comes through the woodwork or was overlooked.

#### Ishmael

Oasis Adjallahr has always been a crown jewel of the Oriental Sands. Spangled with graceful spires piercing into bright blue sky, this place has attracted many traders, people of art and science. But it became truly famous because of the great magician Farrukh. Tales of his miracles circulated in Dominion from edge to edge. Noble looks, an aquiline nose and magician's prudence were admired by everyone.

But most people were touched by the boundless love of the great magician to his son Ishmael. That fatherly care which is so rare in our times, was indeed incredible: the descendant had the best education available, great food and luxurious clothes. Still Ishmael was brought up to be a humble, well-mannered and a very clever boy. His magic skills which were developed by the lessons of his father promised to be as good as those of Farrukh, or even mightier!

Years passed, and one day, joyfully dressed Ishmael left the house as an adult. He was sixteen years old that day! The boy received a note from his father with congratulations and a request to come to the Crimson Hall. Happy Ishmael ran to the venue expecting an unusual gift for him coming of age. The nominal dagger he got for his previous birthday was sitting tightly in a leather sheath. Finally he opened the doors to the Hall to which it was forbidden for him to enter earlier, and stepped inside.

The great magician looked unusually solemn. His voice, gestures and facial expressions seemed too pompous to Ishmael. Farrukh invited the boy to sit down on a stone throne in the center of the dark room and turned to the wall to open an old casket. “I wonder what my father has as a surprise for me” – thought Ismael, looking at the raw edges of the throne, – “It will probably be the best gift of my whole life!”

And suddenly, as if someone had forced him to, he looked at his father, when he had already raised a long and sharp sacrificial blade over his son's head. "Why, father?" – Ishmael shouted.

"You are my most significant sacrifice. Dark Gods will appreciate my gift and reward me with infinite power! Why do you think I spent all my time on you? I will ascend above the world and become the greatest magician!"

With these words, Farrukh plunged a dagger in the place where his son was sitting a moment ago. Ishmael, meanwhile, was already behind the wizard's back. The enchanter quickly turned and was ready for the second strike. But when he looked into the eyes of his son, he didn't see fear but an incredible desire to live. And even a moment later, lying in a pool of his own blood, his father didn't understand the mistake he made.

Ishmael was much more talented than what Farrukh thought, and could inflict a fatal blow to the traitor before he got it himself. But the victory over his own father wasn't easy - the evil magician's soul has remained with the young man ever since. Ishmael has been living a double life, struggling with his inner evil. His dark side gives him power, but always tries to possess Ishmael's mind. However, his own soul, wounded by betrayal, tries to find the right way in spite of inner demons.