After the Nethergate opened up, my beloved halfling village of Luckshire was destroyed. As the last survivor, I fled to the neighboring town of Warmshire, where my warnings fell on deaf ears, except for one new friend who agreed to help me get to Boatshire and onto the sea.

We hoped to find safety at Greenholm, only to discover that the treacherous Wizard-Lord of Reektower had taken the opportunity to attack. In desperation, we backtracked to Faywelken Haven, to seek aid from the forest folk. Though we nearly became trapped there for eternity, we managed to win their favor, and they took us through a magical pathway, across the Barrowlands, and left us outside ~~Westeros~~ Westrow, where the war had not yet reached.

We waited in a long line before we finally got an audience with the king. A representative from Arrowshire was there and seemed sympathetic to our cause, but the king of Westrow refused to heed our warning. But on our way out, someone approached us and told us to come to Helplight. When we arrived, we found a militia already assembling, gathered from surrounding areas with some coming from as far as Twyfeast and Winklelight, and ready to fight back the demon hordes pouring through Nethergate - though they seemed unprepared and under-equipped.

We marched southeast until we arrived at Weylight, which had been fighting the demons in the field, and suffering defeat after defeat. I was clear now that they were preparing for a prolonged siege to defend the city itself. Our militia joined the defenders, and soon enough, they arrived.

We fought through the day and into the night. Countless demons fell to our blades, but the numbers that had been coming through the Nethergate were endless. In our darkest hour, when all hope seemed lost, a figure appeared on the hillside - The lord of Arrowshire had arrived with a full battalion of archers, which rained death on the demon army and forced them back off the walls! Yet we knew it was just a temporary respite, so we gathered the survivors, and what wounded we could carry, and evacuated the city, joining the archers.

Though we survived, we were battered and beaten, and it was clear more than ever that we had no hope of driving the enemy back from whence they came. But that night, I had a dream, where one of the forest folk from before visited me, and told me of a second gate, the Dreamgate, which, once opened, would allow me to harness the power of Dreams, the only thing more powerful than the creatures of Nightmares. When I awoke, I rushed to Lord Arrowshire and begged him to help me get to the Dreamgate, but he thought I had gone mad from the battle and ordered me restrained. But then, the adorable little animal mascot who's been with me the whole time but who I never mentioned but you probably assumed I had anyway lifted the keys from a guard and I escaped, determined to travel alone if I had to, across enemy territory, to find the Dreamgate. I had only made it over the first hill when I found my first companion, who'd been with me the whole time. "You said it's in the southeast, right? You're heading the wrong way. You keep heading this way you'll run smack into the Barrowlands and Lord Reektower's undead hoards," they said, and we set off together, this time in the right direction.

I got to the Dreamgate where I probably saw my dead parents and confronted some truth about myself and probably fought dream version of myself representing my trauma or some shit and gained superpowers and singlehandedly saved the day and returned to the start of my journey having learned something blah blah heroes journey let's wrap this up already.

The End.