A corner of the tavern. The shy swordswoman hid in the corner to polish her beloved giant sword and the cold elven mage's fingertips danced with flickering arcs of electricity. The half-human, half-deer dark-haired forest spirit played the melody of the forest, the hot necromancer twisted his waist, and summoned skeletons together in the music of the dance. Halflings slumped on the table, lazily building blocks with stacks of small silver coins, a pair of small, shining eyes, but patrolling the money pockets on everyone's waist, and burly dwarves with one foot on the table, holding up the ale in their hands and yelling out dwarven songs that no one could understand. The night was peaceful and serene under the gaze of the lightless moon. This is where it all began, this is the story of swords and magic.