Arolyn

Arolyn has not seen the touch of magic in well over 500 years. It has almost passed from living memory. Very few remain that remember the old ways. Elves, Dwarves, and other long lived folk tell of a time when strange and fantastic beasts ruled the sky, land, and sea. When they lived years well beyond now, blessed with deep vitality—when the weakest among them could accomplish great, even impossible things.   Buried in the deep recesses of ancient libraries, tombs, and stores of knowledge, there lay records of these times. Spells and rituals put to word, history describing old, very old powers, and whispers of why it ended. Though no one really knows the true reason, magic left our world. The gods did not speak any longer. The dragons all left or died out. Long lived races still live a long time, but the immortal vitality they once knew has vanished. The world moved on, made slow progress, people came and went, things changed.   6 months ago, everything changed. It was as if a switch flipped. The gods whisper to some again. Creatures unknown and never seen have begun to surface. Some people have wells of magic bubbling inside of them, occasionally exploding out in unexpected ways. It has threatened the tried and true ways, the order of the current establishment.   Lathlandre the White, the current Matriarch of the country Brague, looks to quell the sudden magical explosion within her borders. High bounties are offered for the heads of magical creatures. A group of highly trained soldiers called The Order of The White Hand move among commoners in the land and take away any person showing signs of magical power. No one knows where they are taken or what happens to them. No one has yet returned. Lathlandre seeks a way to utterly crush magic users and all those that dare defend them. This hard stance has caused much tension between other kingdoms in Arolyn, and Brague stands on the precipice of a war that is beyond the scope of anything the world has seen.