The Sword of Stars

Long, long ago, a mighty Empire straddled this land. The sun rose and fell within its vast borders, and there was not a soul a live that did not pay fealty to its crown. The citizens were wealthy, the soldiers were mighty, and the emperor was hailed as a living manifestation of the divine. Proud, the Imperials turned from the path of the gods, and they worshiped their gods of wealth and power and dominion. For a time, the empire was in an orgiastic fit of excess and opulence, and every man lived as a king. People were bought and sold as chattel, copious amounts of food were consumed and then left to rot, alcohol was imbibed in such vastness as to drown an elephant with a night's outing. The gods grew weary of this debauchery and they cast down the empire that had turned from them. The gods of heaven sent storms to sink the fleets and ruin the fields. The gods of earth bade the land split open and swallow fortress and house and capitol. The gods of fire licked their lips and greedily consumed what was offered, consigning countless souls to the fires of the inferno. Man and beast alike wept at the devastation, for there was nothing left untouched. Ruin came to the empire, and the empire was destroyed. It drowned in its own hubris, as was agreed by all. The survivors found themselves adrift, cast into the seas of war and bloodshed as they struggled to reestablish some semblance of order from the ruined empire. After that time of weeping, successors to the Empire of Old have arisen. New nations vie for power in an eternal struggle. New grudges are born in the ashes of the old. One young man is given the divine task of putting an end to the hurt of the world. What will become of him? What will become of his home?