When all else failed, humanity continued to stand tall, hoping in the one and only: The Order.
Time and time again, unreckoned forces arose, setting Earth on the path of destruction -- a path that'd lead to the collapse of everything we know and everything we value. The fall of humanity constantly hovered above the horizon, governed by the orcs, the hordes and the armies of the west, and the goblins, the clans and the armies of the south. They invaded the mainlands, spreading carnage as they pillaged everything and anything they could touch. From farmers to royals, women were abused, children were abducted and many were killed. In the end, all that was left was the ashes of the destruction that had come prior.
Wars were fought, villages were massacred, and cities were burned to the ground. Castles were either conquered, or reduced to ruins. People risked their lives, deciding it was better to take control of their own fate, rather than remaining helpless and losing the last of what they had. They decided enough was enough: no more suffering, no more abuse, no more death. It was time to protect their family, their lands and their country.
The continent was in the midst of chaos. The kindred flame of slaughter and hatred only grew bigger and brighter. Swords, shields and spears were scattered everywhere. The hills were painted with the blood of allies, and the flags of the enemy stood tall.
This was when the Order came to be. It was the single light within a world that had left it's embers, abandoning all and any form of hope that there was left.
The Order carried the world into an age of peace, protecting the mainlands from the threat of the west and south, until the stories of the wars became just that -- stories. The Order became a judicial force, establishing laws and mediating the conflict and complexities of politics. It was an organisation external to and above the Kingdoms and factions of the mainlands. Its power was absolute; however absolute power led to absolute jealousy. As the Kingdoms and the factions grew over the years, and generations after generations came and went, they began to rival the Order's power. What was once true became an illusion: peace became a pretence. The tensions caused cracks and divides in the country, until it was all but inevitable that conflict would occur
Once it did, the hold the Order had on the world weakened. The political strife caused their numbers to decline, their territories to lessen and their involvement to become nonexistent. Just as the wars became stories, so did the legendary Order.
1250 years onwards…
The Age of the Order is now a distant memory. After its fall, the laws and rights of the Order continued to exist, which was exploited by the Kingdom of Xaveria's military which transformed it into a secret organisation. The organisation and the power it retained from its predecessor was at the disposal of the military. Its independence from the law in particular made it a great tool. Within the military, they became dubbed as Xaveria's agents of chaos. This new weaponised version of the Order was kept hidden from the general populous, due to the outrage that might have occurred. At its peak, these agents of chaos would be sent out to conduct assassinations, gain control of regions, and conquer countries through methods that many would frown upon. There was a choice to the other Kingdoms and factions: submit to Xaveria's will or be vanquished. Eventually, both the lands and seas were taken over by the Red Regiment army, and the continent and all its races were united under the banners of the Kingdom of Xaveria.
However, once this was done, the organisation suffered the same fate as its predecessor and began to decline too. There was no need for them anymore, not with the peaceful union of the land. Whenever danger knocked, Xaveria and the Red Regiment army was capable enough to defeat it on its own. Overtime, their numbers fell until only a handful were appointed. The organisation became nothing more than a division within the military. The Order survived 87 generations to become nothing more than a squad, consisting of a few members who are oppressed and enslaved by the military.
For the past seven years Xaveria has been defending its border from the orcs. They have risen once more, just as they have multiple times before. However, something has changed during the last few years. The orcs have been gaining power. They've been growing in size and force. Now, they've become an actual threat. They are becoming detrimental to Xaveria's future.
Fifteen years ago, Squad 87 was established. But now, it is time for the next generation. Most of 87's members are dead, or too old to be of any use. Squad 87 is no more. The time for the next generation has arisen. The newly appointed Commander Arcus Garrot has been called from the north, tasked with finding new members for the squad. Perhaps more than ever, Squad 88 is needed to save humanity from the threat of the orcs.
The Commander General "Arcus Garrot" of the north Harka mountainsides, was the man who was assigned in creating a new unit. A new order, to replace the older one. Order 87, was no more. Men of honour and freedom, had died. Some, were too old. And then, some died in action. A new order was needed, and it was needed now. And so, the commander was called forth, from the great North, when he was replacing an older commander. Alissa Caverax, the previous northern commander of the forts. Under him, was a previous soldier who worked under Caveraz's regime. A soldier, who was then brought forth into the south, to fight the new war. A man, who was about to become part of the new order. A new group, called the 88's. And so, started the new group, that was too then become the new great Order 88. The last of humankind's hope. The last and only order, of the old regiment of the red's.
Within this squad, there were five individuals. Men, and women who knew not what they were about to do, nor what they were getting themselves into. But what Arcus knew, was that this was the last hope that humanity had. All of the five, were soldiers that had skills that were inhuman. People who were fit to unite together, and to save all of humanity from the cold hand of death, that the Orcs were about to deliver, if nothing was to be done. The healer, the ranger, the caster, the northern wall's soldier, and one last member.
Yet, humanity fell when the orcs came. No one knew where they came from, no one knew where they originated from nor what they were. All that humanity knew, was that after the day they saw the orcs and its army.. The world itself had now changed, forever and always.