New Story I’m working on.. (Got the Writing Bug)

This story is set in a mythical world. Basically, the world has seven artifacts, now lost to the world, which various warlords will fight over. As each artifact is acquired, the person acquires more strength and power. In the same way as my other story dealt with a rise of power to incredible levels, so will this story.

It's in the VERY early stages but here is what I have. (don't worry, no politics) lol. (No name for the story yet.)

Nestled in the highland valleys near the foot of the Forlorn Mountains lay the small, walled village of Drakensir. The village, with a population of roughly 1,200 hundred peasants, complete with forges, stables, and small wooden homes topped with straw and pitch, was covered in shadow as the dual moons Laken and Frost slowly rose over the horizon. This motley collection of civilization on the edges of the Ather Empire was protected by a large earthen mound upon which sat the rough hewn, and pointed logs from nearby Draken Forest, complete with palisades and guard towers. Upon these walls, 40 men from Drakensir watch kept a lonely vigil as the night winds moaned over the lonely expanses.

Within the great hall of Drakensir, the village’s children had gathered for the festival of Wakenight to mark the end of harvest and the beginning of another cold winter. In Drakensir, as in all villages and cities across the Ather Empire, citizens told stories, ignited candles ,and left out food for loved ones who had passed beyond the mortal realm. On Wakenight, the walls between the world of men and that beyond were treacherously thin. For young Rayne Janetha, Wakenight was a night of mystery and suspense as she watched Scathia, the village elder weave her Wakenight tale.

“Four thousand years ago, on Wakenight, a star fell from the heavens and touched Athereata and unleashing the God’s upon our world,” the old woman crowed in a cackled voice, as her wizened face hunched posture, and the disheveled, wispy, white hair adorning her head swiveled over the crowd. Children cringed as Scathia’s scarred face, complete with an expressionless milk white, and sightless eye, and the piercing blue eye of her left, fell upon them.  “When the star fell upon our world,  it split into seven pieces which men forged into the seven articles of power., the Star Stones. With them all, one could control the world. It was a time when chaos reigned between the tribes of men as each sought control over our world. It was age of fire. An age of the faithless…”

Scathia’s turned to look at Rayne and Rayne shivered as she felt Scathia’s expressionless white eye fall upon her, “It was a time of power for those who sought it…….”

Rayne felt herself swept away in the story…