“I have just arrived at the port town of Seahaven. Tomorrow at first light, the ship bound for Kopno sets sail, leaving me only a short window to explore the village.
Here, among the bustling streets, one can find a mix of souls: nobles, adventurers, and even brigands! Thankfully, the joint guards of the three allied races enforce order with an iron grip.
From a distance, one can spot the separate dock where the cursed races—Orcs, Goblins, and Dark Elves—are confined. I dare not imagine the chaos that would unfold if we were forced to coexist in such close quarters. This fragile peace is unique to Seahaven, born from the scars of the ‘Hundred Days of Sorrow.’ No race, neither militarily nor emotionally, is prepared to relive that tragedy. All those lives lost… over a mere stele.

Now I stand before it, the very stele around which this entire settlement was built. It washed ashore eight centuries ago, originating from an unknown continent and inscribed with promises of unimaginable riches. It was for its possession that the war erupted. The artifact itself holds no magic, but I must admit, it inspires awe. Its peculiar metal, etched with an unknown script and adorned with rare, majestic gemstones—who could have created such a marvel?
This reminds me of my role in the expedition: to establish a foothold on these uncharted lands, secure their treasures in the name of the Empire, and forge a maritime route back to Akal. My father’s greed compelled him to send me on this suicidal voyage, but I shall fulfill my mission with all the valor the gods have granted me.

Night is falling, and I must find lodging at the lone tavern in town. Fortunately, Dwarves frequent it; with their songs and ale, the evening promises entertainment enough to stave off thoughts of what awaits tomorrow…”