Tessera

"The Heliand is Lord!" These four words were the first public preaching of Acacius, the Berytusian prophet. Less than four decades later he had killed several gods and a few Antiquities, and formed the largest empire the world had ever seen.   It is a time of decline and opportunism. Trade in the vile drug Elfskiss keeps the world economy afloat, and war is the main engine of progress. Though throughout the Matre Sea relics of the bygone halcyon ages remain standing (some even live in cities built in those days), no man has the skill to replicate them.   War, pestilence, disease, chaos. "Woe to the conquered, woe to the conquerors!" In the east, the Fourty and Ninth Abrisom War has broken out, the Empire of Mides trying to reclaim Mount Eadhab for the desiccated divine corpse held within, and the Berytusian Empire (the Imperion) just wanting to control the Elfskiss fields. The bellicose new Haugrkirk Metropoltan Petris III is seeking war against Berytus, trying to end the five hundred year Enetoi Schism by blood.   A single man makes little difference in a world ruled by angels whose mere sight causes madness, when a bureaucracy of thousands is needed to sustain an army. Gone is the age of heroes, of men of history, of greatness! What will a man do, that history may remember?