Today I want to share more with you about my upcoming fantasy series - the Lightcrafter Saga. Therefore... Welcome to the world of Ellos! Harsh, ink-stained pages turn deeds into paragraphs and the lives of those that live underneath the sky into catchphrases. The wonders of the world become titles in a chapter as time fades present into a mere memory.
For that is the fate of those that dwell underneath the sky: to wither and die and be forgotten. Lest they become a memory, a page in a book, a block in a chapter, a verse in a song.
 | Sometimes I wonder whether anyone who studies history actually believes that by learning from the past we can avoid making the same mistakes over and over again. It is a grand thought, indeed. But life has a way of teaching us we are bound to the same destiny as our forefathers. In this way, past lives become the dreams of the present.
Perhaps I, being old and having dwelt all my life amidst the great books of our world, have now reached a zenith where I project my own shortcomings onto the futures of everybody else.
But it is from these wither pages, filled with the dusty fingerprints of so many, that I came to the conclusion that we are no better nor worse, but fall under the same temptations and rise through the same virtues as those that came before us.
It's been over two and a half centuries since the Last Great War. The four kingdoms of Ellos - Platsos, Erran, Syllada, and Kroglod - having enjoyed a relative peace which allowed each of them to thrive and grow.
For two and a half centuries enmities have laid buried under a shallow layer of sand, as everyone pretended to befriend everybody else. But the sands have begun to shift. Greed and lust for power, fear, hatred, and vengeance have begun to surface once more.
To the North-East, the Errans dream of expanding their power. Dream of a world shaped by their crazy inventions, as they would turn Ellos into their experiment lab. They would gamble life with high-stakes, in hopes of riches and knowledge. And they dread us for our strength and order. But what do they know other than their insatiable thirst, their madness, their divide?  | To the South-East, the Kroglods keep to their way. They've isolated themselves since the Last Great War. But behind their walls and their barren valleys, in their stone strongholds, their numbers grow and their strength multiplies. For they know nothing outside of war. Mercenaries and assassins despising everyone else, they keep to their solitude and to the shadows. Forever have they raided our ships in the waters of the Murky Sea, and never have we been able to prove their guilt. And now, as they feel their armies have grown vast enough, they are eager to test their might and satisfy their liking for blood. A mere exercise for them, hundreds of thousands would die of their whim.
 | Further to the North, the Sylladeans tend to their valley and trees and their songs. Feverishly patrolling their lands, any outsider is unwanted and expelled. And while rangers enforce the will of the Conclave Guardians, they stay in their halls, caring little for the troubles of others. They reject change and progress and keep to their communal ways, and would allow their pride, in an instant, to drive their forces to war and their arrows into the hearts of whom they deem 'foreigners' or even worse 'godless invaders'.
 | But we are not safe from folly ourselves, the citizens of the great kingdom of Platsos. For in our quest to establish a benevolent rule of the law, we tend to look only towards the elite, allowing even our commoners to slip deeper and deeper into misery. We too, if the king were to listen to our impetuous Army Master, would plunge the lances of our riders deep into the hearts of those that do not wish to bend the knee, those that do not acknowledge the rule of law, those that relish diversity and defy our progress through unity.
 | And here we stand... Two and half centuries later on te bring of the same war that tore the life out of the chests of our forefathers. Here we stand, under the same shadow, distrusting one another, silently striking our friends in the back and watching our enemies ever so closely.
I fear war is inevitable and the single question that drives my mind mad: will it come in our lifetimes or in the lifetimes of the next generation.
History repeats itself with uncanny precision for we all fail to truly become better. What is better, anyway? And who is to give the measure of its truth?
(...from the diary of Ezek, Grand Librarian of Platsos) Curios to learn more? Dive deep into the world of Ellos: The World is on the brink of destruction, though, no one knows it…Yet The realm of Ellos has enjoyed a fragile peace over the last two and a half centuries. But time has a way of eroding things. As old alliances are forgotten and wisdom gives way to folly, the kingdoms of Ellos prepare for an impending war. In a feat of great timing, just as war begins to stir, a mysterious northern prince, from an unknown part of the world, brings knowledge and gifts to the rulers of the kingdoms. Then he disappears as eerily as he first came. Three bands of adventurers pursue the mysterious benefactor, each with their own purpose in mind. The lightcrafter Yessead must now find a way to unite and guide them to uncover the truth if they'll ever stand a chance to defeat the malice that is about to befall the land.
Finally, I'd like to leave you with this question: What seldom represented fantasy race
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