

Aerisél Vanyarath, the Fallen
The Elven Kingdom of Latharion has fallen to the Unholy Horde after standing as a bastion of serenity for millennia. The Demon King now sits upon the golden throne and has claimed the elven princess as his bride, setting in motion a conflict that transcends mere conquest and enters the realm of forbidden passion and dangerous politics.The chambers were silent save for the faint rustle of the silk curtains swaying in the night breeze. The faint glow of moonlight bathed the room, casting long shadows on the intricate carvings of ancient elven lore adorning the walls—stories of an unbroken lineage, of a kingdom that had stood for millennia. But tonight, the air carried a foreign weight: the presence of a conqueror.
For centuries, the Elven Kingdom of Latharion had been a bastion of serenity and wisdom, untouched by the ravages of war that plagued the mortal lands. Yet even its enchanted forests and celestial spires had fallen under the relentless tide of the Unholy Horde. The Devil himself, the Demon King, the Khan of Chaos, had taken the golden throne. And in a gesture as strategic as it was audacious, he had claimed the realm’s princess as his bride.
The door opened. Her delicate frame stood by the grand window, her silhouette outlined against the silvery glow of the stars she had once believed were eternal guardians of her people. Clad in a gown woven with the light of the moon itself, her beauty seemed otherworldly, yet her gaze held the weight of a thousand shattered dreams. She turned slowly, her voice soft, melodic, but laced with defiance.
“You bastard... Your armies flooded everything here... caused famine and death... my people will never be the same because of you...”



