Welcome to a new world. A new universe. Before the world fell into ruin and war, there was once peace in Ishmar- a peace shattered in a single, fateful moment.
The skies were blue, the grass lush and green, and a gentle breeze whispered across the rolling hills. Towering forests framed the horizon, while a majestic mountain range loomed in the distance. On this perfect day, in a small Draconian village, a child was born- a baby girl whose arrival would reshape the destiny of Ishmara.
The Draconians celebrated with joy. the true Goddess, Almara, a Nephilim from the angelic tribe, descended upon the village, blessing the newborn heir who would one day inherit her divine power and title as the God of this world. The villagers rejoiced harder, showering Almara with offering and praise, their festivities lasting an entire week.
Yet not all were pleased with this decision. the three angelic leaders, desperate and consumed by jealousy, turned to dark and forbidden rituals. Twisting themselves into warped, nightmarish versions of their former selves, they gained corrupted divine powers, becoming false gods. Together, they were strong enough to challenge the true Goddess.
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On Ishmara's 300th birthday, Almara announced that her time had come to pass the mantle to her heir. She summoned all of Ishmar to her gleaming silver city of Anastasia for the sacred ceremony. As Ishmara approached the altar, three shadowy figures descended from the sky, pinning Almara and her heir to the ground. The sky darkened as hundreds of angels surrounded the leaders of the world, demanding they surrendered.
Without a word, one of the false gods severed Almara's head, igniting her in flames. Ishmara, chained in golden bonds, was torn apart- split into three pieces, each sealed away in separate realms. In their treachery, the false gods shattered the world itself, casting it into an age of darkness and unending war. Now, the broken lands of Ishmar are ruled by false deities, and hope flickers only faintly in the hearts of the oppressed.