Nadir

No one knows what the stardust reverse was, but what it did was quite clear. Cities lay in ruin, split apart by what terrible weapons the ancients used against one another. Roots of sky-reaching trees dug themselves in metal and glass towers that would have sprung even higher, centuries of knowledge and technology lost to time.   Even more unsettling, however, were the statues. Chrystalis’, they were called, frozen tableaus of people, encased in crystal, a permanent reminder of the mistakes of our past. Some lucky few thawed from these prisons, without memory of the olden days. That was two centuries ago. Other escaped with their minds distorted, become unaging abominations that preyed on anything, even human flesh.   The village of Iskandor lay nestled in a valley, protected from the harsh elements and hidden from the savageries of the harsh wastes. Peace, however, is fleeting, and a series of strange events force a group of villagers out of their homes. It is in these folk that we find unlikely adventurers.