This story is dedicated to the countless hours of tabletop, playing 2e, then 3e, 3.5 and Pathfinder. Plenty of that time with friends around the table in campaigns, but a whole lot of hours just spent theory crafting, too. 

You are all loved and missed.

It's also dedicated to the countless hours of joy pulp fantasy novels, comic books, and more recently LitRPGs have given me. 

To those authors who were an inspiration, living or dead, I thank you. 

Let's begin.

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Gather ‘round, children, as I tell you a tale of ages long past - of empire and ruin, of magics and ancient evils, and of desperation and daring. Gather ‘round as I tell you the incredible story of one mother’s love and obsession.

Our story begins at the center of the world, that place of myth and legend, of wonders fantastic and monsters dire. I speak, of course, of that Great Isle at the center of all things. I speak of Atlantis.

In the waning days of Atlantis, when one of its last great empires and cities was desperately holding on to its strength, there was an incredibly powerful sorceress. Her name and fame are great, and we may speak of her at another time, but for the time being the most important fact is that she had a son. In most circumstances this would be a momentous occasion, a time of great joy, but you see this was during the sunset of the empire, and the great families were desperate to hold on to their slowly dwindling power. 

While there had been ebbs and flows of the magic and civilization of the nations of Atlantis over the years since it became the land at the center of all things, it was also true that the Isle was gradually decreasing in strength. One could see this even from how it had descended from its once lofty place in the heavens, holding back the forces of the heavens, to its current place as merely another continent in the great ocean. 

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In order to hold on to their slowly dwindling magic, the great families had incredibly high standards for their progeny - standards that even the most stringent of city states in our time would find extreme. If a child had not shown sign of their ancient magics by the time of their first year, or sooner in some cases, they would be cast into the sea.

It was into this time, and into one of these families that our mother gave birth to her child. As a great sorceress herself, she knew quickly that her son would not be showing that instinctive sign of their ancient magics, and by six months into his life, her fears were confirmed. In light of this, she gathered her belongings, made her excuses to her friends and family, and fled the Isle for the continent, ready to begin her search for a solution.

As I said earlier, the mother was a great and powerful sorceress, and so she enchanted her son into a deep and magical sleep, only waking him for brief periods of time as she searched across the lands for a cure. She knew that should he grow too much, his soul would grow used to the lack of magic, and she would no longer be able to save him. And so, as she traveled the world, delving into secret places and dealing with all manner of magics and beings, her son slept. 

Centuries went by as she traveled on, trail after trail proving false, as she tried various rituals and magics upon her son, who was ever foremost in her mind, until she finally stumbled upon an ancient, hidden secret. Deep underground, nestled within the bones of the world, was a wellspring of unimaginable power. Should she manage to draw from it, it was possible that this would be the solution that she needed.

So she gathered her son and her belongings and made the long journey deep into the wilderness to find an entrance into the earth that would allow her to find her quarry. Eventually she was successful, and she performed one final ritual, immersing her child in the magics of the spring. 

Sadly, she soon realized that while the process may prove fruitful, it would be hundreds of years before she would know - any sooner and her son would not survive the process. It was centuries of time spent waiting with her son, preparing for his awakening, and foraying out into the world for resources before our mother had to admit that her time was coming to an end, and she would not be there to see her son wake up from his enchanted sleep. 

Not wishing for her bones to be what greeted her son on his awakening, she decided to spare him this pain, and, after hiding the spring with great magics, departed the cave for the last time.

Her ultimate fate is not the story I will be telling today, for it is a sad tale. Instead, our story continues as the son wakes up, many centuries later…