The blinding light of the sun shines down upon his caramel skin, each ray and its faint warm glow caressing him. He lays atop a crumbling building, legs limp, and arms tucked lazily behind his head. Looking toward the sky, then around at his surroundings. The sight he possesses is far more precise than one could believe, and he can see miles away with ease. A mile east, the kingdom of Faliere, a bustling region surrounded by lush greenery, farmland and animals alike. Twenty miles further east is the capital, surrounded by tons of land, small cities, and with all of the like you'd typically find in such a place. This was the largest occupied land, mainly inhabited by humans, beastfolk, and something in between.
The man rolls to face the west, and focuses his gaze on the surrounding area, much further out, one hundred and thirty seven miles lies a marshland. Here lies a slums of sorts, not under jurisdiction of Faliere, or any place for that matter. Broken down homes, for what you would consider a home, lay spread about for the next 50 miles. Yet here within lies no spite for larger areas, or somewhere with more fertile soil, instead the people of this marsh focus solely on supporting one another, without care for the outside world or what it have say of the conditions they live in.
The man then sits up and looks north, and as far as even his eyes can see, unending and imposing. Lies mountain range, jagged and massive rocks jutting from every orifice, however on top of some of these mountains lies flat Greenland. On some others lies heaps of snow, farthest north lies magma, spewing from the darkest of mountains that look like pure slate, spewing smoke and debris that covers majority of the sky on its worst days. This is said to be the land of creation, where beings of higher power reside, not just keeping an eye but actively seeking out the rest of the life that resides on this earth. Granting power to those who would be brave enough to seek it. The power to change the world as one would see fit, and shape it to the mold they desire. It is said that to begin a kingdom one would need to ask the higher beings for the power to do so first.
The man then looks south, at the second largest region, brandished with a symbol of a meteor fourty miles out, a giant crater. Out of this dark, shadowed hole comes the dark beings of this world. Some would call it the punishment of the beings from the north, others call it a necessary evil. Lying behind this mole of the earth are dunes, stretching far and wide about one hundred and thirteen miles. In the heart of it all. A kingdom covered in so much sand you'd think it was painted. Not much is known of the Kingdom besides its name, Gardes. The people of this land vary in race, similar to Feliere in that sense. A manor rests in the heart of the kingdom said to house the King, in the cities surrounding this manor lie their guards, one thousand homes, each belonging to a personal guard of the King. Each itself almost as grand as the manor the King resides in. Further surrounding are ordinary citizens, swore in oath and loyalty to the King. In his everlasting health and prosperity. For that they are treated well, and none who pledge their allegiance go hungry in this land. Homes with grand arches and large winding bridges in each area surrounding a large aqueduct connecting to the large and vast oceans stretching all the way southwest. This area itself is no stranger to the dangers of this world. Being in the same region as the hole, and has a round the clock force working hard at driving back those who we will call "demons" for now, for lack of a better word.
Those that come from this crater are not of one will, and typically at odds with even each other. Nevertheless they are branded the same. Some managing to escape the hole and blend in with the rest of society. Others seeking to sow destruction with every step they take. All of these demons are bound by one undeniable trait. A sigil bearing the mark of a goat. These demons are powerful, even at birth having the magical power strong enough to make someone from above ground grovel before them. It is those above that borrow power granted to them by the mystical creatures of the north in which. Can fight back, in exchange they must pledge to drive the demons back, a relentless and neverending eternity. Those granted power can bestow such upon their subjects. Each individual having a different reaction to the magic flowing into their soul force. This grant of power is permanent however. One must choose wisely who they grant power to, lest they end with betrayal.
One person stands an exception to this rule, and he is the first and only exception. A singularity bearing the responsibility as the overseer of this world. Not through birthright, nor through cunning. But rather something yet unexplainable. This man is Ridion. And he is unbeknownst to his own role in this world. The man stands up, around five foot ten inches, long deep black hair giving away to gravity and falling to his shoulders. He takes out a small band, and fixes his hair into a bun atop his head. His bangs fall loose to rest unto his forehead gently over his thick eyebrows. He yawns, and stretches. His frame a gentle one, modest musculature and deep collarbones, firm shoulders leading down onto relatively large body. His legs bearing the same musculature, enveloped by a single layer of fat. His face having a slightly larger nose, and lips, and eyes that look almost unreal. A deep mixture of brown and green with intricate scarlet veins decorating the iris with color. The color looks vastly different in various shades of light. Taking more green than brown and having a very red tint in the particular shining sun. Rays dancing for a brief moment in his eyes before settling, giving way to sunset.
He had spent all day here. For today was the first in this strange world, he needed time to understand his surroundings, and with his eyesight he was able to map out sea border to border in 24 hours. Besides how the region looks geographically however, he has no knowledge of anything else. This overwhelms him with a severe thirst for knowledge. Having been brought into existence just a mere 24 hours ago, he understands he is different from the other people he saw looking around the landmass he resides on. He was conceived for a reason, by what unknown. All he can do for the moment is set forth, and allow his desire for knowledge to push him forward in understanding this world and himself. This is the story of the Country known as Haldresh, the heart of the world. Starting with the the one later to be known as Ridion.