May 18, 201115 yr Prologue: Port Tyras Twenty-Two Years ago... Water, the basic essential to life. Every living being consumes water to thrive and survive. Water can create life but it can also destroy it. Dehydration can lead to a slow painful agonizing death, but drowning isn't so different. Emptiness and water cloud my vision and my head as I look up to the glimmering surface of sunlight beaming down onto my face. Oxygen bubbles escape my mouth only to float upwards to this depressing sight, a man tied to a barrel in the ocean sinking to his demise. This is the end of my world and no force of good can save me, to die in retaliation combat seemed more appropriate. I never imagined my death like this. One can only imagine the suffering my elvish brothers are facing above the surface, Lord Tyras and his forces will stop the bloodshed and slaughter at nothing until they acquire what they're looking for. Isafdar is no longer a safe place of haven for elven refugees, no one is to blame but Tyras himself. If it wasn't for his lack of passion for life and his inability to feel remorse, I wouldn't be drowning and our people would be thriving vigorously. In Tyra's eyes Isafdar was for the taking, what he doesn't realize is how unclear his plan for domination is, the swampy terrain will claim his forces, he will never reach the city of Lletya alive. My eyes began to slowly close as i reached my final moments. Suddenly I felt a tug, a heavy force started to lift the barrel up to the surface. Was this really happening? Was my life really going to be sparred or is this all a dream?
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