The road to Grimmagstone is older than the kingdom itself. Over two thousand years ago, as the empire began to take shape, a spellcaster of the first circle was buried deep in the earth, now marking this holy pilgrimage site.

The great Agathon himself blessed the spellcaster's grave, granting passing pilgrims a vision of their fate.

This idyllic path leads to a sleepy village of peat-cutters and fishermen who carry on their traditions peacefully.

The source of their livelihood is the bog which has been recently plagued by strange creatures. Even pilgrims no longer dare take the pilgrim's path north of the village.

Long ago, Heredur the great commander ordered the construction of a fortress, thus severing the ties to the dying empire and crowning himself king of Duria.

Today in 1190, whispers of impending war flutter about the streets, behind the high walls of Kingshill.

While the king sits idly by, attending only to matches in the arena, a forgotten cult schemes in the shadows, and fear slowly begins to spread.

On the eastern coast of the little island kingdom of Duria lies the harbor city of Shorfolk. The proud trading capital and gateway to the world has always played an important economic and military role within the kingdom.

Today, Shorfolk stands in flames. Dragon-like creatures invest its charred streets and smoldering ruins, while the Wild Hunt makes escape along the the Burning Coast treacherous. Any citizen who was lucky enough to flee in time has made their way West and landed in the deadly trap of Troll Canyon. The Andermagic within the region is causing the earth itself to spring to life and calling forth the beasts which gave the canyon its name.

Yet a few brave souls have ventured into the chaos of Shorfolk to retaliate against the enemy and have established a resistance camp. They're calling for heroes to follow them in their path and take arms against the growing peril.

The small town of Grovery was once known throughout Duria for its precious and processed metals. In the nearby farms lived the hard-working people peacefully in the shadow of the local mountain.

Then came the Nefertari cult, who began spreading insidious lies from the abandoned monastery. Now the local inhabitants have fallen pray to their dark goddess and worship her dark-glowing statues which have arisen above the dense fog that now plagues the land. Undead have awoken and patrol the nearby ghost town which is illuminated only by the flickering light of lightning lanterns. Powerful magic chains span across this downtrodden land with fields that grow wild and houses that lapse further into decay.

But yet their is one last shimmer of hope. While the Nefertari High priestess Khalys crafts her sinister plans in the old monastery, a bright light burns deep within the cellar of the Werian Sanctuary.

High atop the eastern-most mountain of Duria towers the old fortress of Teganswall like a memorial over the coastal region of Shorfolk. As early as the time of Heredur, too few Dragonknights were charged with the task of defending its walls. They would withdraw to the gatehouse and venture down the arduous path to complete the ancient rites passed down to them, no longer aware of the true fact why they must: To protect the gate to the Anderworld!

Only after the Nefertari cult succeeded in overwhelming the fortress and freeing Duria's oldest enemy did it become clear why Tegan had constructed this fortress so many centuries ago.

Brave heroes alone will be able to end the cult's abominable experiments in the church and find their ancient path through the Dragon Caverns to the hidden Sanctum. There lies Tegan's Ceremonial Hall, where the greatest threat Duria has ever faced stands between the two worlds.

A trip through the area surrounding Kingshill leads travelers to places long since forgotten in the shadows of time. Much awaits those brave enough to wander into the shadows.

The Wildherz caves bear the story of human culture's humble origins and forgotten deities. Remnants of worship sites can also be found in Hagastove Grotto, where practitioners of magic fled during the empire and to this day refuse to follow the strict codex of the Spellweavers.

Wars of the past are now buried under earth and grass. The stone witnesses of the empire have long since crumbled to pieces. The once hard fought battle for survival in Swerdfield near Kingshill lies beneath the pastures' cultivated grass.

The village of Jarlshofn lies beyond the dark sea, on the much celebrated thunder coast, called Torstrond by the Norsemen. Long did the coastal towns of Duria live in fear of a local bearded warrior’s bladed dragon boats, until a young King Harold and the Jarl of the Norselands made a pact of eternal peace.

But evidence of this peace can hardly be felt in the stormy coastal village anymore. Torstrond, recently home to hunters, fishermen and tanners, is now a bloody battlefield. In Förge, the village of blacksmiths, followers of power-hungry Nefertari have once again struck fear into the hearts of the brave warriors, and stolen their souls.