[center][h2][color=ed1c24]Children of Ivalive[/color][/h2][h3][color=ed1c24]Outskirts of Dorter Trade City[/color][/h3][/center]

	The reason for traveling to this last bastion of hope is your own. However, when you begin to see the ruined and desolate village cresting the hillside, you begin to wonder what hope is left. Ever since the rifts began to appear and the massive black dragon cast his shadow over the land; you've been merely fighting to survive the chaos. Steeling your nerve, you and your party would begin making your way to the once familiar city, only to be greeted by the signs of corpses and bodies strewn across the ground. The sight itself is daunting, able to disturb even the most battle hardened of souls. As you draw closer, you make out what looks to be a shoddily fashioned gatehouse, blocking entry to the city. It's clear that this work had been completed in haste, and probably just to prolong whatever time the residence had left... Or at least that's what you thought, as an arrow plunged into the ground just a few feet away form your caravan.

	"Hold!" A young voice shouts over the open field, his voice echoing in the silence. Those with superior vision could make out the image of a long haired man in a full set of green dyed leather standing alone atop the fortification. If you proceed further, another arrow -drastically closer to striking home- would land not far from your person, "I said hold!"

	Once the caravan had settled, the gate house would open slowly as a small party of chocobo riders would make their to meet you. Stopping a few yards away, another voice would ring out, though this one much more seasoned, "Welcome to Dorter! Or so it was once. You stand before the Children of Ivalice, now. If you seek refuge, we will offer what shelter we can, but at the cost of your labor. If you refuse to work, I'm afraid I must turn you away."

	A few short moments of deliberation later, the caravan submits to these terms and are escorted inside the city. Once beyond the gate, all manner of people; both foreign and familiar, trying to eke out a living through all manner of services within the makeshift walls of this city. Not shortly after you began traversing the city streets, a rather large cart- it's contents hidden by a secured tarp- makes it's way past you and further into the city. If you should stop and ask, "Bodies. We're set to burn them, so they cannot rise again. Many more are becoming undead since the 'Beast' appeared, and we cannot risk them aiding our assailants."

	Days later, seeing you survive few assaults and make whatever living you can within Dorter, another caravan has arrived at your gates. Though that fact in it's self is not odd, they claim to hail from a country that you've never heard of. Ylisse.

[Center][h2]Shepards of Ylisse[/h2][h3]Outskirts of Dorter Trade City[/h3][/center]

	Ever since your departure from your homeland, your caravan has been assailed by numerous 'Risen' and what appeared to be reanimated corpses. Though the fighting has been difficult, Robin's strategic prowess has kept casualties to a minimum and has made significant progress in your advance. Though the land appears to be in ruin, you've managed to save a few of the native people and placed them under your care. It soon became obvious how different this world was from your own. Though this area seemed to home to a vast human population, odd new races you've never encountered soon took refuge in your camps.

	Your journey has continued now for several days, every day marred by combat and loses. However, when questions began to abound, Robin halted the company, "We make for the coast! If we can cut the fronts we have to cover in half, we'll be better able to defend ourselves and begin reclaiming this land from Grima! I know it's difficult to see your friends fall as they have, but they knew the potential cost! Don't waste the precious time they've given us!" As if summoned by his words, a cavalier from the front rode in at great haste.

	"Lord Strategist, we've spotted a settlement not far from here! They seem to have been able to hold a coastal city and fashion it into a garrison! We attempted to hail them, but were met with arrows!" the horseman added, though he and his mount showed no sign of injury.

	"I'm sure they're just fearful. It's possible they think us brigands and bandits. I'll go and speak with them myself." Robin replied, signaling the horseman to follow. Some time later, the horseman returned and ushered the caravan onwards. Once the city came into view, you could tell that this bastion was merely a temporary solution, what with the makeshift gatehouse and turrets. Still, the gates were now opened to you, and you wasted no time entering the city. It was then that you notice Robin riding off. When questioning one of the guards, they stated it was to meet with the commander of the garrison. You can't help but feel the eyes of city upon you and your allies. Such a strange place, this Ivalice.