"You alone can change fate, Ridion, but not without the Cost of your sanity."
The blinding light of the sun shines down upon his caramel skin, each ray and its faint warm glow caressing him. He lays atop a crumbling building, legs limp, and arms tucked lazily behind his head. Looking toward the sky, then around at his surroundings. The sight he possesses is far more precise than one could believe, and he can see miles away with ease. A mile east, the kingdom of Feliere, a bustling region surrounded by lush greenery, farmland and animals alike. A few miles further east is the capital, surrounded by tons of land, small cities, and with all of the like you'd typically find in such a place. This was the largest occupied land, mainly inhabited by humans, beastfolk, and something in between.
He rolls to face the west, and focuses his gaze on the surrounding area, much further out lies a marshland. Here lies a slums of sorts, not under jurisdiction of Faliere, or any place for that matter. Broken down homes, for what you would consider a home, lay spread about for what seemed like forever. Yet here within lies no envy for larger areas, or somewhere with more fertile soil, instead the people of this marsh focus solely on supporting one another, without care for the outside world or what it have say of the conditions they live in.
The man then sits up and looks north, and as far as even his eyes can see, unending and imposing. Lies mountain range, jagged and massive rocks jutting from every orifice, however on top of some of these mountains lies flat Greenland. On some others lies heaps of snow, farthest north lies magma, spewing from the darkest of mountains that look like pure slate, spewing smoke and debris that covers majority of the sky on its worst days. This is said to be the land of creation, where beings of higher power reside, not just keeping an eye but actively seeking out the rest of the life that resides on this earth. Granting power to those who would be brave enough to seek it. The power to change the world as one would see fit, and shape it to the mold they desire. It is said that to begin a kingdom one would need to ask the higher beings for the power to do so first.
The man then looks south, at the second largest region, brandished with a symbol of a goat, a giant crater. Out of this dark, shadowed hole comes the demons of this world. Some call it a necessary evil, in reality the demons themselves have their own land, tarnished by war, and their own struggles. Nevertheless they are guarded heavily at the hole. Lying behind this hole of the earth are dunes, stretching far and wide. In the heart of it all, A kingdom covered in so much sand you'd imagine it could have even been built. Its name?Gardes. The people of this land vary in race, similar to Feliere in that sense. A manor rests in the heart of the kingdom said to house the King, in the cities surrounding this manor lie their guards, one thousand homes, each belonging to a personal guard of the King. Each itself almost as grand as the manor the King resides in. Further surrounding are ordinary citizens, swore in oath and loyalty to the King. In his everlasting health and prosperity. For that they are treated well, and none who pledge their allegiance go hungry in this land. Homes with grand arches and large winding bridges in each area surrounding a large aqueduct connecting to the large and vast oceans stretching all the way southwest. This area itself prides strength above all else, using the full force of their might to keep the demons at bay.
Those that come from spite are not of one will, and typically at odds with even each other. Nevertheless they are branded the same. Some managing to escape the hole and blend in with the rest of society. Others seeking to sow destruction with every step they take. All of these demons are bound by one undeniable trait. A sigil bearing the mark of a goat. Same as the one surrounding the crater. These demons are powerful, Constantly at war since time began. It is those above that borrow power granted to them by the mystical creatures of the north that allows them to fight back, the gods of the north are quite quizzical, granting power to whomever is able to prove interesting enough, Demon Or Landwalker. The gods are bound by eternity, the most powerful unable to leave the mountains, unknowing themselves of a power higher than them. It is said they try to reach the heights able to free them from their shackles. Those granted power can bestow such upon their subjects. Each individual having a different reaction to the magic flowing into their soul force. This grant of power is permanent however. One must choose wisely who they grant power to, lest they end with betrayal.
One person stands an exception to this rule, and he is the first and only exception. A singularity bearing the responsibility as the overseer of this world. Not through birthright, nor through cunning. But rather something yet unexplainable. This man is Ridion. And he is unbeknownst to his own role in this world. The man stands up, around five foot ten inches, long deep black hair giving away to gravity and falling to his shoulders. He takes out a small band, and fixes his hair into a bun atop his head. His bangs fall loose to rest unto his forehead gently over his thick eyebrows. He yawns, and stretches. His frame a gentle one, modest musculature and deep collarbones, firm shoulders leading down onto relatively large body. His legs bearing the same musculature, enveloped by a single layer of fat. His face having a slightly larger nose, and lips, and eyes that look almost unreal. A deep mixture of brown and green with intricate scarlet veins decorating the iris with color. The color looks vastly different in various shades of light. Taking more green than brown and having a very red tint in the particular shining sun. Rays dancing for a brief moment in his eyes before settling, giving way to sunset.
He had spent all day here. For today was the first in this strange world, he needed time to understand his surroundings, and with his eyesight he was able to map out border to border in 24 hours. Besides how the region looks geographically however, he has no knowledge of anything else. This overwhelms him with a severe thirst for knowledge. He understands he is different from the other people he saw looking around the landmass he resides on. He was conceived for a reason, by what unknown, all he remembers is his name. All he can do for the moment is set forth, and allow his desire for knowledge to push him forward in understanding this world and himself. This is the story of the Country. known as Haldresh, the heart of the world. Starting with the Man known as Ridion.