"In a realm once plagued by despair, there reigned a King of unparalleled courage and benevolence. Yet, upon ascending the throne, he beheld a kingdom in ruins, where poverty choked the very air, and the sun's rays scarcely touched the barren fields. The river—once a lifeline—now trickled weakly, barely sustaining the dwindling life within its banks. This dire state weighed heavily upon the King's heart, driving him to seek solace in his faith.
Turning to the gods in earnest supplication, he beseeched their mercy, praying fervently for the salvation of his kingdom. Weeks turned to months, and months stretched into a year until, at long last, his pleas were answered.
The divine gaze fell upon the desolate lands of Pompeii, and a miracle unfolded before the King's astonished eyes. Nectar descended from the heavens, quenching the parched earth and breathing new life into the withered landscape. Rivers swelled with newfound vitality, forests teemed with vibrant growth, and the sun bathed the land in its benevolent glow, reviving the once-dying harvest.
With a radiant smile gracing his lips, the King beheld the jubilant faces of his subjects and the vibrant rebirth of his beloved land. Overflowing with gratitude, he offered fervent thanks to the gods, vowing never to forsake their benevolent grace.
Under the divine favor, Pompeii flourished anew, its streets alive with laughter, and its fields teeming with abundance. The air itself seemed to sing with the joy of renewed life, banishing all traces of sorrow and malice from the kingdom's midst.
Yet, intoxicated by the opulence surrounding him, the King's heart yearned for more. Devoting himself wholly to beseeching the gods for further blessings, he unwittingly paved the way for greed to take root within Pompeii's soil. Like a festering seed, corruption spread its tendrils throughout the kingdom.
As the King became consumed with his incessant demands to the gods, Pompeii gradually fell prey to the insidious grasp of avarice. Unbeknownst to him, while he secluded himself in prayer, his kingdom descended into the clutches of avarice.
Then, one unfateful day, as the Queen, radiant with benevolence, addressed her people, a malevolent soul struck her down, piercing her kind heart with a dagger of darkness. With her fall, the floodgates of corruption, power, and malice burst open, unleashing a plague upon Pompeii.
Driven by an insatiable thirst for more, every citizen succumbed to the temptations of greed, resorting to deceit, theft, and even murder to satisfy their desires. As the King remained locked away in his chambers, ensnared by his own avarice, the gods answered his prayers in a manner he had not foreseen.
Gazing upon the once-glorious paradise now tainted by sin, the gods' wrath ignited like a tempest brewing in the heavens. With a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of Pompeii, the skies turned black, and lightning rent the air.
A voice, booming and omnipotent, reverberated across the land, its words a condemnation of Pompeii's descent into greed and corruption. "We bestowed upon you prosperity, happiness, and life," it thundered, "yet you have tainted our gifts with insatiable covetousness, lusting for power and pleasure beyond measure. So be it. From this day forth, the people of Pompeii shall wage eternal battles for their desires, blessed with the instruments of their strife. Let it be known that there shall not be a day where Pompeii does not witness a conflict."
With a deafening roar, thunder unlike any heard in the annals of history crashed upon Pompeii, forever altering its fate. No longer did birds sing in harmony; instead, the clash of arms and the cries of battle echoed through the streets, a haunting symphony of discord and strife.
"And from that moment onward, mothers in Pompeii bore children marked with intricate symbols etched upon their bodies," the woman's voice echoed through the crowd, her words carrying the weight of ancient prophecy. "With the passage of time and the strength of their will, these markings would transform into weapons, each one uniquely attuned to the lineage and character of its wielder."
As her tale unfolded, the puppet show behind her gradually disappeared beneath a swath of crimson cloth, the scene fading into memory. "And following the disappearance of our beloved King and the emergence of the Relic Castle," she continued, her voice tinged with reverence, "the leaders of Pompeii forged our society around this divine gift bestowed upon us by our benevolent gods."
"Blessing? Benevolent? These people must be crazy to believe such tales..." Alan muttered to himself, his voice barely audible amidst the murmurs of the crowd.
As the history representation of Pompeii came to an end, Alan slipped away from the throng, his figure cloaked in darkness beneath the hood of his cloak, attached to a cape floating above his waist, and baggy pants, held together by a cummarband.With every step, he melded seamlessly into the bustling streets, his attire no different from that of the city's inhabitants.
Quickly retrieving a worn notebook from the sack tied around his waist, Alan began to scribble as he muttered under his breath, Alan's thoughts meandered through the maze of his mind.
"Apart from ancient history and some questionable folklore, this didn't tell me much about this city," he reflected quietly. "Pompeii lies on the eastern fringes of the great Luminous Grasslands. It's an isolated kingdom with scarce ties to the outside world. Rumors abound that they're self-sufficient, growing their own food and crafting their necessities right here in Pompeii. They've never engaged in trade, yet somehow manage to thrive as a prosperous kingdom.
Despite its Isolation, Pompeii has a variety of services to offer, unlike any I have encountered through my travels." he noted.
"It's no wonder it's become a coveted prize for colonizing nations, like my homeland, the great kingdom of Rir, which sent me here on reconnaissance duty. Even after just two days, this city keeps on edge for surprises and discoveries. Pompeii truly is fascinating."
Alan remarked, his gaze drawn to the imposing structure at the heart of the city. Rising like a monolithic titan, the structure pierced the heavens, its towering form stretching upwards for at least a thousand feet. Constructed of weathered brown bricks, it exuded an aura of ancient majesty, its surface adorned with colossal windows at intermittent intervals. Through the giant windows, he glimpsed a tapestry of sights: lush flora spilling out from some, while others emitted wisps of steam and cascading waterfalls.
As Alan marveled at the sheer scale of the castle as he found himself stumbling backward in awe, struggling to comprehend its immense height. This was the Relic Castle.