Cruxia

Allow me to introduce myself, I am Studicas the scribe, of the Daeva Republic of darkness. At least I was in my life, but that's another matter altogether. Locatria, the realm I lived on, is a world older than mortals can imagine. I cannot possibly tell you of it all, but understand it is a world whose foundations are soaked in blood. The goddess Atalia awoke on the primeval battlegrounds and fashioned my home from the remnants of that battlegrounds. A swirling mass of elements, both light and dark...and scars that reach so deeply one may never know of their eternal depths. Nor the hatred that formed them. War after war resulted from her act of hope that Locatria could be a home to all. The gods have left the world now, choosing to observe from on high. Still beauty and rich lives can be found here. Mortals have survived long enough to reach a time likened to your Victorian or late renaissance, but understand this, magic is our science. So judge us not by that assumption. Five continents, over thirty intelligent humanoids, some from this world and others not so, monsters and dragons and all manner of beasts and creatures. Too many to count, but always those who find themselves to be the stuff of legend are linked to the oldest and deepest curses of this land. Still mortals wish to live, and struggle to make this now indifferent and cold world a home. I dare say they've succeeded! They all have their own societies cultures trade and mingle, but always the seeds of war hate mistrust and ambition seek to jeopardize this. Threats come from within as well as outside. The land was forged from a twisting mass of chaotic abyss and confusion. As such it is itself warped by that chaos. My compendiums in life were but bare able to scratch even the surface of this world. Only in the halls of a goddess of knowledge can one come to learn as I have...and continue to do so.