Ishfar, Northern Eventide, year 812 of the sixth age.
A scream penetrates the thick black smoke. The city is in ruins. Homes reduced to ash, loved ones dead and dying, and upon the ruins roars a towering creature of fire and brimstone, hungrily consuming whatever flammable material it can to feed itself in this arctic savannah. Enough lives have been lost trying to stall the beast - such motives are ultimately fruitless. The only sane decision now is to run. Those still alive take whatever they can and run south, away from the frozen north and into a land of lush plains, savage wars and nightmarish beasts, along with the victims of every other settlement devastated by the Ignari. You are an outcast among thousands, unwanted by anyone who doesn't want to kill you, and unafraid of the future that lies ahead.