Final Fantasy: Ritual of Hatred

Odd for a new user to make his first step into a Final Fantasy community as a Fanfic writer. I know that it isn’t the wisest first move, but I’m willing to risk it.

My name needs no introduction, for the one seen to the left of this very message will suffice. It is derived, however, from a fanfic I’ve recently begun to compose. In this first post, I am going to outline the basic premise of Final Fantasy: Ritual of Hatred, afterwards opening the floor for comments and discussion as I prepare the next part. So, all this being said, I am proud to step into this forum to present to you…

Final Fantasy: Ritual of Hatred

Preface
ARCADIA, 1326. THESE ARE DIRE TIMES. A debilitating plague known to make the inflicted expel blood from their lungs, bleed excessively with slowed clotting, and in rare cases, develop a mild scurvy, is christened the Crimson Plague. One of the High Provinces, Abel, has, at the orders of Lord Ulrich Arlias, set out on a campaign to purge the weak from the strong and pehaps, in turn, thwart the plague.

This was three years before.

ARCADIA, 1329. The citizens of the Abel Province, naturally, resist death at the hands of the Arlias regime and some even develop a band of nomads to actively escape their grasp. Equipped with knowledge of advanced White Magic, herbalism, alchemy and other arcane skills, they sustained their people to the point of being able to exploit their weakness as an advantage. These people adapted the apt title of Blood Mage.

Satisfied that his work was sufficiently allowing the Abel Province to recover, Lord Arlias started back to the capital city to tend to his army’s wounded and sick. The campaign came at a cost–those exposed to the plague often became victim to it.

Arlias’ daughter, Payton, was no exception. Her insistance upon her father toting her along on this dangerous crusade finally had its comeuppance as his eleven year old daughter’s life was slowly being ennervated by this cruel fate. Arlias was at a loss–his push back to the Abel capital was hastened at the cost of more lives to the hands of other rebels.

But another danger had arisen just as quickly as the plague had taken hold of Lady Arlias.
Within days, those that were thought to have been dead came back to life to claim their living bretheren. Estranged, depraved, outcasted figures were assembled to lead the undead, and a new face of terror was soon given a name–

–Beelzebub. Lord of the Flies.