There in a peaceful Overworld village, nestled between a river and a mountain ridge, the inhabitants were doing what they normally do on a good weather day.

Half the younglings were playing their street games that all generations before them had played in their day. The other half of children were exploring near the base of the mountains, finding little creepy things and picking rainbow bouquets of wild lilies.

Their guardians were at work. There was work to be done in the crop fields, in the wood curving shops, and at home were food needed to be cooked for dinner or preserved for winter. All over the village there was something that needed to be done.

The elders of the village though no longer helped doing those tasks anymore. They would most certainly help if they could, but their bodies were worn-out from years of labor and they cannot do what they use to do. Now they mainly just talked to each other about their younger days while playing board-games. Of course they still have their use. Giving the younger creatures advance on life and watching the youngest generation for the parents.

Everything was as it always has been since the village's first year of existence. Nothing was out of place, and everyone thought nothing would change that. But unknown to the villagers someone had a different plan in mind for the day's end.

"And in an instant, the village was gone, the land was scorched and the fields would never flower again."

Note: The quote from the end is from Ultadur's card.