Mortals of Relic Lore, behold. You've asked for it and now... the Apocalypse has truly come. War, Famine, Plague, and Death. In the form of the legendary Four Fiends they come to the lands on swift paws and hasty wings, causing chaos in their wake.

The sudden onslaught of a spring-born lightning storm has come to the lands. Fires in the north have ravaged much of what was once a promise of lush soil and tall, verdant forests. Smoke rises from the land where the trees have collapsed, the streams have changed to a sickly green color, and a putrid stink has permeated the air. Some birds have fallen from the heights, otters have washed up on the river banks, deer and moose have tumbled to the ground. Even the rivals and the vermin have made themselves scarce. The stars have seemed to start falling from the sky, their trails streaking across the heavens. The moon itself has become what some have called a "moon dog," it's halo - when capable of been seen through the smoke and fumes - a possible sign and guiding light for those to make themselves scarce in the night. The sun, however, seems warns of a new threat as it, too, has seemingly transformed. Now a "sun dog," it's halo brings with it one or two other suns each rise and fall.

What was once the world all creatures both loved and loathed is now gone. All that is left are the Ruins of Relic Lore.

This is it. This is the end. The Spirit of Wildwood has abandoned us.

Are you ready? Is it in you to prove you can survive? Will you - and your loved ones - survive? Is this the world your future cubs deserve?