The Russian land is beautiful and rich. Its forests and fields stretched from sea to sea, and white-stone cities scattered across the endless expanses. Princes with full power sit in their Kremlins, invincible heroes gallop in search of exploits, euphonious bells ring over God's temples. And in the middle of the bare wasteland of the Kashcheev Kingdom rises the gloomy citadel of the Bone Palace. A bony old man with dead eyes sits on the iron throne. His treasury is bursting with gold and silver, but the crown on his head is forged from pure iron. The black sword of Kashchei the Immortal hisses furiously, and the skies over Holy Russia will not remain clear for long. The hopeless clouds are already gathering, hordes of non-humans are already gathering from all over the earth. The final battle is approaching. The fight between Life and Death. Heck. Hake. Heck.