When mountains whisper and monoliths drift against the heavens, destinies are carved in stone and betrayal rides on the wind.

In the floating valleys of Erythia, where gravity barely kisses the earth and ancient giants still leap across the sky, one warrior’s soul stands on the brink of ruin—and revelation.
Kraag, son of stone and sky, carries more than the hopes of his people into the Stonebound Trial. He carries forbidden love, fractured faith, and a prophecy that threatens to shatter not just alliances, but the very bedrock of his existence.

But what Kraag finds atop the Sentinel monolith will shake more than the ground beneath his feet.
It will awaken echoes buried deep in blood and bone… and it will demand sacrifices no oath could ever prepare him for.

“In a world where mountains float and loyalty is measured in scars, how far would you leap for the ones you cannot name aloud?”

The Story: Giants of Hollow Stone

Kraag stood atop the precipice known as the Sky’s Tear, staring out at a world gently floating beneath him, cloaked in mist and whispers of ancient stone. Here, on this Earth of hollowed mountains and drifting monoliths, gravity held weak dominion, allowing even giants like himself to soar effortlessly. Yet today, Kraag’s chest felt burdened—not by gravity, but by the weight of anticipation, doubt, and the quiet ache of a hidden longing he dared not name openly.

The Stonebound Trial was upon him.

Beneath the pale cerulean sky, painted with broad strokes of indigo clouds, his clan awaited. Their immense forms encircled the ritual arena, eyes glistening with expectation, pride, and unspoken judgment. Kraag exhaled slowly, savoring the cool air that flowed over the expanse of rock and valley. His gaze drifted toward the nearby dwarven enclave nestled within the valley’s heart, flickering torchlights hinting at the bustling activity within.
Among those dwarves was Klynk, fierce and sharp-tongued, whose presence in Kraag’s thoughts had grown dangerously frequent, an attraction as undeniable as it was forbidden.

Their bond was a fragile, sacred thing, hidden beneath layers of duty, tradition, and ancient prejudices that neither of them dared voice aloud. It was a connection deeper than loyalty, sharper than steel, and infinitely more perilous than any external threat.

“Not all betrayals come from enemies. Some are born from the hands you trust most.”

“Yer mind drifts again, brother,” said Grymm, elder brother and steadfast critic, whose shadow dwarfed even Kraag’s imposing frame. Grymm’s heavy brow furrowed with concern, reading Kraag far too easily.

“I think only of the Trial,” Kraag replied, voice thick with reverence and worry. “To bridge stone and metal… the dwarves await our gesture. Yet, I fear we misplace trust.”

Grymm’s deep rumble of laughter reverberated through the hollow stone beneath their feet. “Trust is the marrow of unity, little brother. Remember the stone’s lesson: strength flows from bonds tempered by time.”

But time was precisely what troubled Kraag. His people’s history was a litany of broken pacts—the Hollow Accord, the Shale Treaty—alliances snapped like brittle shale under ambition and fear.
And he feared that history was ready to bleed into the present.

The rhythmic pounding of drums signaled the ceremony’s commencement. Kraag stepped forward, slow and deliberate, each stride stirring the dust of countless ancestors. He knelt at the ritual circle of runes, whispering a silent promise to the earth itself.

Then, with the leap of those born to defy gravity, Kraag soared toward the floating monolith known as the Sentinel.

He landed upon its weathered stone and approached the shrine at its heart—where dwarven and giant symbols intertwined, a fragile hope etched into eternity. Yet something was wrong. The altar bore cracks, subtle but deliberate.

Moving aside a thin slab, Kraag uncovered a hidden manuscript, ancient and brittle.

The words froze his blood:

“When giants leap to Sentinel’s embrace, betrayal shadows every step. Kraag, son of stone and sky, will be cast out—not by dwarven hand, but by the treachery within his kin.”
— The Seer of Belvale

A prophecy older than memory. A betrayal already whispered into being.

And somewhere, hidden among the watching eyes below, stood Klynk—whose gaze had always held too much sorrow, too much knowing.

Was Klynk the guardian of this truth? Or the harbinger of it?

Suddenly, Grymm’s voice cut through the silence. “Brother! The clan grows restless—tell me quickly, have you claimed the Sentinel’s trust?”

Kraag hesitated. Then, folding the prophecy into his cloak, he called back steadily, “Yes. The Sentinel has spoken clearly.”

But within, the stone had cracked.

As he descended back into the valley of his ancestors, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.

“Some echoes are so ancient, they cannot be silenced. Some destinies are so cruel, they cannot be refused.”

The journey ahead would demand the unraveling of every bond he cherished—and the forging of something fiercer still.

Not all giants fall by the sword.
Some are felled by truth.

And Kraag knew, with chilling certainty, that the true Trial had only just begun.

Archive Note: Hidden Echoes

The glyph etched upon the Sentinel’s altar—the intertwined symbols of dwarven and giant unity—will resurface in Book 2, hidden within the forgotten chambers beneath Belvale.
Watch carefully for this glyph, for its appearance signals a revelation that may shift loyalties and uncover truths that echo across worlds.

Keep your eyes open, Peacemakers.

The avalanche is coming.

Stay Echoed. Stay Watchful. Stay Wild.
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