The Cleaved Lands

It's been fifteen years since the end of the wars and the fracturing of reality, when demons ravaged the world and the land was carved into slices of habitable land divided by hell-spawned crevasses. Waters still teem with miasmic forces and deformed creatures; the sky remains littered with flying fortresses that darken the days when they pass over the sun. Remnants of powerful magic litter the shadowlands and beyond, stretches of rotten territory cursed in blight and madness, mysterious monuments dedicated to forgotten gods, ruined cities ruled by vengeful undead and wild tribes tainted by supernatural horrors.

A fragile peace has sustained life since the end of the war; the various humanoid races live in a coexistence only united by their hatred of the demons they expelled. Life is a matter of survival; leaving the relative safety of an urban settlement brings all manner of threat and danger; even in the cities living by your wits is the only way to stay alive. Some beacons of light remain, strongholds of the good and valiant, but for the most part the world is a desolate and terrifying place.

Conquerors and their empires have come and gone in the last millennia, and most of the habitable world is formed of disparate coastal city states and forest kingdoms. Only one last empire remains, called solely the empire, ruling a vast swathe of land; their ruler is dying without an heir and no one expects the empire to last.

Some say the crystal tower, the magical council with no allegiance to anyone, may try to fill the void.

Others talk of a secret sect that has travelled from another dimension and seeks over-lordship.

The cognoscenti speak of a terrible warlord with aims to unite the wild ones and bring terror to the civilised territories.

A few whisper of unimaginable horrors waiting to return.

Most were content to have a bed to sleep in and not worry about any of these things.

Until the nightmares started.