Antor — The Kingdom of Steel and Flame

  Antor… the Great Kingdom of the northwest, stretching from the icy fjords of the Tirhan Peaks to the evergreen depths of the Shadowed Forest, from the whispering sands of the Dead Ridge to the burning summits of the Black Mountains.

  A land where blade and magic are woven into one, where ancient oaths are not forgotten, and legends breathe beneath the very skin of the stones.

  This is not just a kingdom.

  It is the cornerstone of the world, the last bastion of order in a realm where balance teeters on the edge of a sword.

  Here, under one banner, live — or wage endless wars — humans, elves, orcs, drow, vampires, demons, dwarves, and creatures whose names only madmen dare whisper. Every corner of Antor bears the scars of ancient civilizations, fallen under the weight of their own pride. Every stream may hide a path to forgotten gates.

  And all this has lain dormant since the Burning Dusk — the era that nearly consumed the continent.

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  Darkness never truly vanishes.

  It merely waits for the moment we dare to look away.”

  In the beginning, there was fire.

  Not the fire that warms.

  Not the fire that gives light.

  But the fire that devours.

  Ash rained over ruined cities, falling upon the blades and hair of the fallen.

  The sky was black, like coals reflected in the eyes of monsters.

  The earth wept — not with water, but with blood.

  And in those days, the Last Days of the Burning Dusk, the world nearly died.

  Amidst that horror, at the heart of a dying continent, stood a figure.

  Meridian.

  A name deliberately forgotten.

  A face no mind could recall without pain.

  He did not walk — he glided, darkness curling around his steps, his voice the toll of rotting iron.

  He did not kill — he hollowed the living into nothingness.

  Only one force could halt him.

  A vow.

  When the last alliances abandoned hatred, when blades cracked but remained firm in trembling hands, when even the gods turned their faces away — humans, elves, dwarves, and those long thought extinct stood side by side.

  Among them were those who fought not only with steel, but with soul.

  They bound themselves to ancient seals, offering their very essence for a single chance to imprison the Darkness.

  They called themselves Orders.

  And of all the Orders,

  only one endured through the ages:

  The Order of the White Dragon.