Conoce el Lore de Endarth:Covenant

0.0. – The Last Glimmer of Hope

Holding a candle in her hand, Ayla walked down the narrow corridor of the log cabin. The little flame flickered, making the shadows dance. She stopped in front of a small white wooden door and took a deep breath. Some things she ignored: the drops of blood on the floor that were still fresh, the scratches on the wall she’d made as she’d fled from her attackers, her footprints muddy from the forest nearby…

0.1. – The huntress of Mallevene

A solitary hawk flew over the forest of Mallevene, circling lazily and revelling in the cold morning wind. From its privileged position high in the sky, it watched as the first light of dawn brushed the treetops with gold. It was a magical moment and a very important one for the elves; it was when they could see the vastness of their forest, full of ancient Trees of Life that were over a thousand years old, even if it was merely an optical illusion…

0.2. – The Banished Wolf

The magical light sparkled behind the windows of the old log cabin. Inside, Ayla, the last of the Order of Interventors, was feeling powerful once again. The magic fizzed and crackled around her; alive, indomitable, just as it had in the old days, except that now she was no longer subject to Endarth’s restrictions on magic. Now nothing would stop her from using the pure energy that flowed between the two worlds, and she could unleash with no repercussions…

0.3. – Silent Death

The candle flickered on the dusty table whilst Ayla sat meditating with her legs crossed on the floor in the middle of the log cabin’s dining room. She’d managed to silence the voices. Now she was sure that they were a product of her own anxiety and insecurity. Understanding that the ‘calls’ prompting her to secure the chosen ones appeared in sequence helped, as it meant that all she had to do was wait. This made her a collector of souls at the moment of death, which simplified her task considerably. In order to be ready for the war…

0.4. – The Bastion of Hate

As she walked up the spiral staircase with the heavy grimoire in her hands, Ayla was lost in thought. She remembered that she’d hardly used the little upstairs room in her log cabin. Although she’d tried to sleep a few times and occasionally even managed it, she’d gradually fallen out of the habit, in the same way that she hadn’t eaten since she arrived in her prison. In some ways this was a blessing, as she still hadn’t plucked up the courage to open the pantry door…

0.5. – Last Woman Standing

All consuming, it made her blood boil, her stomach churn, and her hands shake. It was like a knife in her gut. Ayla stomped around the log cabin, muttering to herself. How was it that the wizard had been able to see her? What was she missing? So many long hours of study, so much work, so much sacrifice. And yet she was in the dark about so many things. She was fed up with all this mystery. Sick of so much injustice. She still had work to do, the most important part of the whole mission, and there was too much that she didn’t know. So how was she supposed to achieve her goal?…

0.6. – The Line of the Oath

The logs in the fireplace were blazing away fiercely, but Ayla threw another one on anyway and rubbed her hands together. Everything was changing, faster than she’d anticipated. The ghostly shapes and structures of Endarth kept on appearing in the sky, and the temperatures were increasingly wintery. There was no doubt now that time was no longer standing still, at least not altogether. The Interventor leaned out of the window of the log cabin; in the distance, she could see the body of the banshee that she’d executed…

0.7. – Unwavering faith

Tzadik raised a hand and reined in her horse. Behind her, Sergal repeated the order, bringing the whole Division to a halt. Before them stood Fort Tesónica, the most imposing castle in all of Damardas. The fortress, built from ochre-brown coloured stone, its powerful walls bristling with battlements and arrow loops, was dwarfed by the majestic bulk of a vast keep crowned by the Fire of Asherah, which never went out. Access to the interior was through a barbican and a drawbridge, reinforced by a stockade along each side, the aim being to block any access from the wastes of Aresia…

0.8. – The North Passage

The skies were changing. Bits of buildings, places from Endarth, all appeared and then melted away like ghosts, in a constantly changing rhythm. Sometimes quickly, at others exasperatingly slowly, but they were always landmark places, places where the blood had flowed, or great battles were meant to take place. Ayla was leaning against the door frame, observing the sky. She felt calm and at peace, in control of the situation. All around her, just a few metres away, she could see a gathering of dozens of banshees…

0.9.1 – The eve of War (parte one)

Ayla Swanlake, the last Interventor, walked with a confident stride, her every step echoing off the marble steps. The staircase wound its way up to the Heroes’ Pavilion: a gigantic structure floating in the middle of a red sky, surrounded by ethereal, incomplete fragments of Endarth’s past and future places and times. As Ayla climbed the steps, she thought to herself that, after so long, at last, magic was her companion, all-encompassing and complete, unconstrained by the limitations of mana or aether…

0.9.1 – The eve of War (parte one)

The Covenant: that was the goal to the beginning of her Master’s vision, and the reason Ayla Swanlake had lost everything. However, in order to start it, the Chosen Ones were needed, the main thread to provide a last hope for Endarth.When her Order had been active, it had comprised two types of Interventors: the strategic and pre-emptive on the one hand, and the visceral and impulsive on the other…