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Terram
In the dead of the wintertide
In The Beginning...
The planet Terram was at one time a simple, lifeless rock, floating through the vast emptiness of the cosmos. The benevolent deities of the heavens saw this empty rock, and encircled it with their divine warmth. With a peaceful calmness and an aura of goodness, each of the righteous gods breathed their essence onto this rock, imbuing it with qualities uniquely their own. Mirimae, the Goddess of the Sun, shone her brilliant rays to the distant corners of the world, bathing the land in a warm, luminous light. Vessaille filled the mighty chasms with plentiful ocean waters, crashing waves, and the gentle flow of time. Azrael, in her infinite beauty, lit up the night sky when Mirimae’s rays slowly vanished behind the horizon. Mithriane lent her powerful might, and Irise her abundant spirit, to create the respective mountains and forests. Seeing the beauty of what the other deities had accomplished, Mepha, the creator, the original lord of the universe, saw fit to bestow his blessing. Carefully, he breathed his essence into the planet, creating the many races of man. All was good; all was pure.But where there is goodness and beauty, so too is there always despair and evil. The evil lords of the hells, as is their true nature, tarnished the lands with their influence. Sielik offered man the opportunity to lie, steal, and cheat. He showed man the temptation of material possession and greed. Anzus threatened to raze the wilderness and the terrain with his catastrophic power and his destructive essence. Even worse yet, Sariel and Hiemua wrought destruction and chaos upon the planet in the form of wars, disease, plague and famine. Their tandem of treachery and evil resulted in death, and thusly Mirodor arrived to devour the souls of the deceased.
Man's fate is not one that is predestined. Every being that exists has the opportunity to choose between what is right, and what is wrong. The lords of the hells act merely as distractions for one who travels on the path of virtue, their temptations nothing but unnecessary noise. But not all can follow this path through to its end, some will stray from the light, and allow the whispers of evil to pollute their mind. Some will even deliberately avoid this path, craving the attention of the sinister gods, cherishing in the misery of others. But every man will have his time, his opportunity to make that decision. It is up to each person to decide what truly lies in their heart, what is the color of their soul, and what their legacy will be upon this mighty world.
The World Today...
It's been 35 years since the end of the Void War, when the army of the north beat back the heinous drow warmancer Sariel, and her army of evil. The north was a feudal and violent land for a thousand years prior, with ongoing bloodshed over cherished land, resources, and riches. But when the horns of war blared their loudest, they wisely put their differences aside and forged a temporary alliance. The battle was long, it was bloody, and it was costly. But in the end, the evil army was stifled and defeated. The north's victory ensured the survival of the race of men, and they fortified their union by ratifying a treaty and electing the first king the north had seen: King Donorik Marten I. But the war had devastating effects, more so than anybody in the north would ever truly know. Sariel sacrificed her mortal shell, as she recognized her army was brittle and could not win. She performed an ancient blood magic ritual, in a desperate attempt to seize the favor of the evil lords of hell. They heard her wails of agony, and deemed her worthy of joining them in the pits of the hells for eternity. Her descension to immortality shook the physical land of Southern Hasdall, violently and irreversibly destroying thousands of miles of land forever. A strange and powerful magic so strong remains in the aftermath, that people of non-magical backgrounds can even physically see the remnants of the magic. A mysterious, purplish haze, is alleged to have infected and blighted thousands of miles of coastal and inland jungle in Southern Hasdall. Not much else is known about the aftermath... But in the northern lands of Hasdall, a new page is being turned. The war is over, and a new king has taken the throne. He is an honorable man, a brave veteran and a noble fighter. But in recent years, some have quietly begun questioning the king's rulings and motives. Some say he covers up the truth, he shields the people from the reality of a dangerous, evil magic, spreading across Southern Hasdall. Of a resurgent army of orcs. Of terrible monsters afflicted with blight from the void. The king's closest advisors and inner council have even stressed the need to take action, to bolster their army, and to also learn about this new magic. But he insists the world is blessed with a new age of peace; the god's have shone the brightest after the darkest hours the world has seen. In quiet alleyways and dark barrooms, whispers grow louder. Unease has taken hold, and a palpable tension builds as the days go on.Followers ( 2 )
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