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In the vast but oppressed land of Malithia there stands a hill recorded from the birth of the man's second existence. This formation is a tor where miracles happen; the barren become with child; the soulless proclaim faith, the melancholy find contentment. Before The Hill of Nola, there was neither land in Malithia nor people to inhabit it. It is said that the first men were born upon Nola and that they held the key to true existence. This rumor spread through many nations, making Nola a forever-holy ground; coveted by every land, even across the Elebesth Sea, the War of Nola caused havoc on the surrounding Malithia.

Upon this hill, lies an ancient Sanctuary; its rotten timber falling apart with age. It's a decaying edifice built only with warned-out aspirations and faith that was rarely ever held; the men who labored on this construction only vaguely hoped to start something new while preserving the old traditions that formed their culture. Such Men have come and gone dying to protect the dark secrets began mankind. But now the foundation begins to crumble.

Trista DaVan walked slowly through the forest, taking a fresh breath of air with every stride. Working in coal mines, delivering work supplies and food to men, she
wasn't used to clean air; she was also born three months premature, a "miracle babe" her family called her, and her lung were never quite as developed as her peers. "Trista, it's been well over two hours since you left work" her younger sister, Emmeline, appeared out of nearby oak tree.

"What- what were you doin never mind I just left," said Trista irritably.

Ever since her father had left for war, as every noble Malithian man was expected, Trista had been the sole provider of the family. Working 8 hours a day, 6 days a week in a coal mine, she gritted her teeth whenever her younger sister talked to her in a superior voice.

"No,
you've been gone for hours! You were supposed to start supper up, now I had to and the Gods know I have so much school work to do "

"Don't talk that way about that Gods!" snapped Trista.

It irked her beyond anger to know that her little sister was living the life of a scholar, something that didn't seem quite fair. Trista, having received only 3 years of education in her life, wasn't
dumb-witted and was even, perhaps, somewhat intellectual. She'd never gotten much of a chance to prove this, however, lacking much time and effort for her school work. Perhaps if her sister wasn't so condescending and showed a little more respect,

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