Master of the Game
First Post
I originally posted this on RPG.net, but then decided it would be better to discuss a DnD setting here... Unfortunately, I seem to have picked a bad time, since there are a lot of these kind of threads lately, but but I'll give it a go anyways, since our game starts Friday, and I'm really liking this idea.
----
They came from across the sea, and struck without warning. There were stories of course, but we had always believed them to be tales told to frighten children. Then, in the dark of the night, the shadows came alive.
We fought them as best we could, but there was no point, whenever night fell they were there. For years we held off, pulling back bit by bit in the face of an unreasoning, genocidal enemy. In the end there was no escape. They pushed us back into the mountains in the far north. We had no homes, no food, and no way to support the flood of humanity that relied on us. How many were with us, we could not know. Hundreds of thousands of men and women, maybe even a million or more, who might well be the last remnants of humanity, all perched on the edge of oblivion.
The northern mountains provided us some protection. More importantly, the nights in the far north were extremely short, with days that seemed to go on and on, keeping the shadows at bay. Food and supplies were hard to come by, but the enemy stayed away. For now, at least.
Our explorations of the area discovered the ruins of an ancient city perched deep in the mountains, and we relocated there. We were starving, freezing, and on the verge of collapse when we arrived, and to make matters worse, the academics among us warned that the days were growing shorter. When winter came the days and nights would actually reverse, leaving us with extremely short days and nights that might last for weeks. It was then that we knew we were lost.
We found the ring at the center of the city. The academics claimed that the runes on the ring were even older than the city itself, dating back as far as the ancient Anunnaki, a long vanished race responsible for a number of mysterious ruins that had been discovered across the continent. The academics set about studying the ring while the rest of us set up camp in the ruins., glad to have shelter and fertile land to provide us sustenance until winter came and we were lost to the shadows.
Winter did come, of course. The seasons marched on as they invariably do, and the nights grew longer and longer. We waited among the ruins for the night our enemy would come to claim us. We knew the night would be soon when fewer and fewer of our patrols returned.
As mid-winter approached the academics came forward to present us with their findings. The ring was a sort of transport device that would take us to a similar portal somewhere else. None of their studies, however, could tell us where. We discussed it, we fought, we yelled and pleaded, but in the end we knew it was all for naught. When the enemy came we would either face the unknown, or we would perish. Two weeks later, we were proven right.
Somehow we knew they would come on mid-winter's night, a night that would last nearly two weeks this far north. As the day grew nearer the camp became quiet and solemn, but the underlying current of nerves and anticipation was palpable. We were about to witness the last stand, and inevitable fall, of mankind.
They descended upon us like a horde of locusts, the sheer mass of them blotting out what feeble lights our fires could produce. Hundreds fell, thousands, and the tide of darkness never slowed. We were left with no choice. My father and the other elders rushed to the academics and told them to activate the gate. The rituals had been prepared in secret, and the gate was ready. With a brilliant flash of light that drove back the coming shadows, and destroyed those too close or slow to turn away, the portal was opened. We couldn't see anything through it's shining horizon, but we knew that we had little choice but to push forward. The gate would only remain open for a matter of hours, and it would take time for the tide of humanity to pour through.
The light of the gate acted as a beacon, and the others fell back toward the gate as my father and I stepped through. We would be the first, but men and women beyond counting would follow us. Humanity had finally arrived on it's brave, new land.
Still I wonder about all those who didn't make it. Those who did not, or could not, follow. How many fell to the shadows that mid-winter's night, and how many were left behind....
Those were the words of Altierre, first king of Pelaar, penned just one year after the exodus, more than a hundred years ago. He and his father were the first to pass through the portal and did much to create a system of government and laws that still influences mankind to this day. When the time came for those who had come to this new land to select a king, they chose Altiere overwhelmingly, and he in turn named the kingdom after his father, who had founded it.
Much can change over a hundred years, however, and mankind quickly forgot the sense of unity they had felt after escaping certain doom. The land they had discovered on the far side of the portal was blasted and inhospitable, and the residents were unfriendly or outright hostile. Over time they learned that men had been to this place before, and it was they who had destroyed the land and angered the other races who dwelt here. They still don't understand exactly what happened, but they believe it has something to do with the Anunnaki ruins that they arrived in after fleeing through the portal.
Altierre died tragically to an assassin's blade only two years after writing the story of the exodus, leaving the kingdom in the hands of his two young children. The twins did their best to hold everything together, but in the end the bickering and differences in culture combined with the lack of resources to drive the remnants of mankind apart. Their children fought amongst themselves, the generals, and the academics as to who should really control the kingdom, and within a generation the kingdom had split into a number of warring states, fighting over arable land and what meager belongings they had brought through the portal.
The passage of time and fear of outside forces eventually served to unite men into an uneasy peace. The dozens of minor kingdoms had been pared down to a few strong principalities, and they agreed among themselves to end the wars before they accomplished the genocide they had denied the shadows. Now they stand as uneasy neighbors, watching warily for any sign of betrayal. Whether or not these words of friendship will translate into action has yet to be tested however.
Outsiders may wonder how such disseperate nations can turn their backs on war, but mankind's ability to unite and gain the support of the neighboring races may well be the key to its survival. Not just in the face of their own wars, but because of a terrible new discovery. This land, which they had always assumed was part of some world distant from their own, is simply a new continent across the sea from their homeland and the shadows who destroyed it.
Could it be only a matter of time before the shadows return?
----
Well, any thoughts or suggestions? I was influenced heavily by the Time of the Dark series of novels, and Cyradon, a world I've never actually read, but had explained to me and seemed kind of cool.
Anyways, I'm looking for a little feedback and any suggestions you might have. I'm thinking of making it a low-ish magic world with limited access to high-level (5+) spells and magic items. Definately using the injury and infection rules from Theives' World.
----
They came from across the sea, and struck without warning. There were stories of course, but we had always believed them to be tales told to frighten children. Then, in the dark of the night, the shadows came alive.
We fought them as best we could, but there was no point, whenever night fell they were there. For years we held off, pulling back bit by bit in the face of an unreasoning, genocidal enemy. In the end there was no escape. They pushed us back into the mountains in the far north. We had no homes, no food, and no way to support the flood of humanity that relied on us. How many were with us, we could not know. Hundreds of thousands of men and women, maybe even a million or more, who might well be the last remnants of humanity, all perched on the edge of oblivion.
The northern mountains provided us some protection. More importantly, the nights in the far north were extremely short, with days that seemed to go on and on, keeping the shadows at bay. Food and supplies were hard to come by, but the enemy stayed away. For now, at least.
Our explorations of the area discovered the ruins of an ancient city perched deep in the mountains, and we relocated there. We were starving, freezing, and on the verge of collapse when we arrived, and to make matters worse, the academics among us warned that the days were growing shorter. When winter came the days and nights would actually reverse, leaving us with extremely short days and nights that might last for weeks. It was then that we knew we were lost.
We found the ring at the center of the city. The academics claimed that the runes on the ring were even older than the city itself, dating back as far as the ancient Anunnaki, a long vanished race responsible for a number of mysterious ruins that had been discovered across the continent. The academics set about studying the ring while the rest of us set up camp in the ruins., glad to have shelter and fertile land to provide us sustenance until winter came and we were lost to the shadows.
Winter did come, of course. The seasons marched on as they invariably do, and the nights grew longer and longer. We waited among the ruins for the night our enemy would come to claim us. We knew the night would be soon when fewer and fewer of our patrols returned.
As mid-winter approached the academics came forward to present us with their findings. The ring was a sort of transport device that would take us to a similar portal somewhere else. None of their studies, however, could tell us where. We discussed it, we fought, we yelled and pleaded, but in the end we knew it was all for naught. When the enemy came we would either face the unknown, or we would perish. Two weeks later, we were proven right.
Somehow we knew they would come on mid-winter's night, a night that would last nearly two weeks this far north. As the day grew nearer the camp became quiet and solemn, but the underlying current of nerves and anticipation was palpable. We were about to witness the last stand, and inevitable fall, of mankind.
They descended upon us like a horde of locusts, the sheer mass of them blotting out what feeble lights our fires could produce. Hundreds fell, thousands, and the tide of darkness never slowed. We were left with no choice. My father and the other elders rushed to the academics and told them to activate the gate. The rituals had been prepared in secret, and the gate was ready. With a brilliant flash of light that drove back the coming shadows, and destroyed those too close or slow to turn away, the portal was opened. We couldn't see anything through it's shining horizon, but we knew that we had little choice but to push forward. The gate would only remain open for a matter of hours, and it would take time for the tide of humanity to pour through.
The light of the gate acted as a beacon, and the others fell back toward the gate as my father and I stepped through. We would be the first, but men and women beyond counting would follow us. Humanity had finally arrived on it's brave, new land.
Still I wonder about all those who didn't make it. Those who did not, or could not, follow. How many fell to the shadows that mid-winter's night, and how many were left behind....
Those were the words of Altierre, first king of Pelaar, penned just one year after the exodus, more than a hundred years ago. He and his father were the first to pass through the portal and did much to create a system of government and laws that still influences mankind to this day. When the time came for those who had come to this new land to select a king, they chose Altiere overwhelmingly, and he in turn named the kingdom after his father, who had founded it.
Much can change over a hundred years, however, and mankind quickly forgot the sense of unity they had felt after escaping certain doom. The land they had discovered on the far side of the portal was blasted and inhospitable, and the residents were unfriendly or outright hostile. Over time they learned that men had been to this place before, and it was they who had destroyed the land and angered the other races who dwelt here. They still don't understand exactly what happened, but they believe it has something to do with the Anunnaki ruins that they arrived in after fleeing through the portal.
Altierre died tragically to an assassin's blade only two years after writing the story of the exodus, leaving the kingdom in the hands of his two young children. The twins did their best to hold everything together, but in the end the bickering and differences in culture combined with the lack of resources to drive the remnants of mankind apart. Their children fought amongst themselves, the generals, and the academics as to who should really control the kingdom, and within a generation the kingdom had split into a number of warring states, fighting over arable land and what meager belongings they had brought through the portal.
The passage of time and fear of outside forces eventually served to unite men into an uneasy peace. The dozens of minor kingdoms had been pared down to a few strong principalities, and they agreed among themselves to end the wars before they accomplished the genocide they had denied the shadows. Now they stand as uneasy neighbors, watching warily for any sign of betrayal. Whether or not these words of friendship will translate into action has yet to be tested however.
Outsiders may wonder how such disseperate nations can turn their backs on war, but mankind's ability to unite and gain the support of the neighboring races may well be the key to its survival. Not just in the face of their own wars, but because of a terrible new discovery. This land, which they had always assumed was part of some world distant from their own, is simply a new continent across the sea from their homeland and the shadows who destroyed it.
Could it be only a matter of time before the shadows return?
----
Well, any thoughts or suggestions? I was influenced heavily by the Time of the Dark series of novels, and Cyradon, a world I've never actually read, but had explained to me and seemed kind of cool.
Anyways, I'm looking for a little feedback and any suggestions you might have. I'm thinking of making it a low-ish magic world with limited access to high-level (5+) spells and magic items. Definately using the injury and infection rules from Theives' World.
