Current Events
The Republic was cast into a civil war twelve years ago by the figures who would later transcend and become the beings now called Oligarchs. This massive conflict provided the sacrifice of blood, flesh, and spirit needed for their monstrous transformation into godlike entities. And the war rages on, perpetuated by their loyal retainers, who wait for the Oligarchs’ triumphant return.
The splintered states of the fallen Republic, once pinnacles of civilization, have been plunged into chaos, reforged in the twin crucibles of warfare and suffering into the Carcass Nations. In these barren lands, only crows feast. The leaders of these divided states have either fallen to the Oligarchs or are mustering forces to repel them. Bonds of fealty that endured for over a thousand years have been severed. A wave of meticulous treachery washes over the kingdoms of Erebos with devilish precision: diplomats poisoned, royal families hastily executed—all who might stand in the way of the Oligarchs are targets for their servants.
Vichy’s ancient library was burned to the ground, and with it, the scrolls symbolizing the Republic’s declaration of unification, the Conclave of Erebos. Untold scholarly works were lost in flames—grimoires, relics from ages past, all gone. And of the friars that tended to them, little is known. More than one has been found nailed to a tree or hung from a bridge over the years. But there may be those who still manage to elude their pursuers.
Mysterious figures such as the Veteran and her mercenary company, the Band of the Iron Scale, make war against the Oligarchs’ servants, raiding their encampments and hunting them with a tireless zeal driven by the will of gods who no longer watch over humanity. They serve no crown, an unsanctioned army of whispers who appear at twilight and vanish before the rooster crows. No one has ever laid eyes upon the Veteran’s face, hidden behind a bronze mask in the mien of a keening maiden. Her forces have broken long-held sieges and turned the tide of countless battles, only to slip away before the delirium of war lifts enough to make clear the magnificence of her victories. However, these victories are often short-lived, as the Veteran’s efforts appear to follow no rhyme or reason, and the war she fights seems to be one of her own authoring, divorced from the greater struggle. Perceptive tacticians argue she is striking at the Oligarchs’ network of conspirators, cutting away the rotten meat that infects the betrayer nations’ courts. Others still claim she is nothing more than an indulgent bit of wartime gossip. Nevertheless, all who claim to have fought alongside the Iron Scale carry an unquenchable ember of hope.
The War of Empty Thrones is unlike any conflict Erebos has ever faced. No one nation is to blame, and yet, all are mired in its bloodshed. At first, it was surmised that a maddening sickness spread across all the countries of the Middle Kingdoms, erupting into civil wars that careened into neighboring provinces. But this was no illness. The inciting events were too specific, too well timed, and too masterfully executed. The hands of a young prince are sent to his parents; a king throws himself from a tower; knighted generals turn traitor and attack their own kingdoms. The pattern repeats with dreadful purpose. Society erodes until all that is left is carnage—this was the birth of the Carcass Nations, the byproduct of an unholy conspiracy the likes of which this age had never seen.
Erebos, a continent once united under the banner of the Republic, is now a menagerie of warring states and burning ruins. Where there was once free-flowing trade, there is famine. Crops wither. Fields go untilled. Rats swarm through the remains of the dead that clog the paved streets of fallen cities. Roads of churned mud that lead away from the Carcass Nations are choked by innumerable refugees dragging along the meager possessions they managed to snatch up before escaping their countrymen’s dark fates. No direction offers true salvation, however, and conflict surrounds these weary travelers on their dire sojourns. With each passing day, it seems, the War of Empty Thrones devours another kingdom.
The Middle Kingdoms of Erebos have been irrevocably changed by such conflict. Garia’s king is no more. The once-ruler of the ancient capital city of Elysium lies dead, struck down by the armies of the theocracy Vichy mere days ago, with only Princess Osanna Gilead left to lead the nation’s defense. Hill people stream forth from a radicalized Caoimhe Clan-Lands, having seemingly embraced the brutal “old ways” of their missing ruler, Caoimhe-Ondrej. Cathia’s borders are eerily silent, with no word sent from the politically powerful Bardic College as armies march to retake the region’s former cantons. The hated King Malthus sits unchallenged upon the throne of Hyperitus, ordering his soldiers to slaughter any who cross the border, while whispers stir within the Splendid Kingdoms as Queen Corinthia finds herself surrounded on all sides by war. There, shadowy forces muster at Baerald-upon-Muse, waiting for the moment to strike.
Elklund spirals into a brutal civil war. Afet’s famed markets have turned treacherous as coin and vile, black-market wares flow uninhibited into neighboring Ipswald’s dangerous criminal underworld. In the north, Thule’s capital of Highsalt swirls with conspiracy as nobles turn upon each other in dangerous cat-and-mouse games. In the south, an ominous feeling has overtaken a nearly abandoned Corbel, as the servants of the Oligarchs jockey for power.
A dark new chapter in history is being written, untethered from Fate and inked with the blood of millions.
In this world, is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law? Is it like the hand of god hovering above? At least, it is true that man has no control, even over his own will.