The Frostwhisper Continent had enjoyed a hundred years of peace.
That was until the gray-robed poet walked into the "Broken Blade Tavern," plucked his strings, and sang a song no one dared hear.
"Beyond the sea lies no paradise, but an abyss."
"When the crimson crescent rises, the ancient chains will break, and shadows will devour the sunlight."
The patrons burst into laughter, while the bullies drew their blades.
They laughed that he was mad, that he was deranged, that an unknown poet dared to proclaim the coming apocalypse.
Then he drew the sword he had kept wrapped up for ten years.
The sword was named [Song of the Fallen Stars].
It had once felled stars and torn open the void.
It had once made the gods tremble and forced ten thousand demons to bow.
Facing a tavern full of horrified stares and steel blades about to strike his face, he merely sighed and said something the whole world would remember:
"Quiet. I'm about to show off."
The next instant, his sword leaped from its sheath.
Tables split, flames parted, and the door curtain was pierced.
No one saw the swordplay. They only knew to kneel and beg for mercy.
It looks good, I like to show off, and it feels epic.