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When the storm arises over the shores of Madoshi, even the bravest hunters and soldiers prefer to stay at home, hiding behind a big fire pit, yet not allowing themselves to rest their eyes.

Different from all the small-town folks around the border of Guro-Umin, they have seen the terror that roams the skies in the middle of a thunderstorm.
A storm so violent, it that could have been created directly by Vash’algur. Clapping his hundreds of wings with a roaring sound. A furious echo of the harpies’ wrath.

Once a folk of respected mages, shamans and intellectuals, protectors of the moribund poor souls of people, in a time when not even the gods themselves, could have saved the living.
A time when skies got ripped apart, revealing monstrous creatures, fighting over life and death, unaware of the consequences their sheer presence caused.

And still, they offer their blessing and their soul-weavers talents to those who are in desperate need for help, or in search for a direction.
Despite the fact, that they won’t guarantee you, what creature will arise from the blood-filled bath that your body will get put into. A queen or king? A soldier?
A doomed one, or even a godwoken, ready to destroy those, who banished this glorious folk?
Not even the gods know.

As always: Please don't use my artwork nor concepts/change my artwork/re-upload my artwork without my permission. ♥ copyright by me @alka-di-kijarr