“A cursed world, for the gods have abandoned us”
In the beginning, Azaroth the mother of all creation gave shape to an otherwise empty void. Whisking her mighty hands through the vast expanses of nothingness, light and matter began to form. With a touch of her fingertips, mighty mountains were raised, rivers were trenched and began to flow, and lush verdant forests sprouted and were grown.
She created the first realm in one day. Her creation, which we know today as Atherius, was a paradise. Limitless natural resources, a perfectly balanced climate, and an air of purity and peace that could weaken the knees of any mere mortal. It was here that she would bear 9 children. She sat them atop the highest peak of Atherius to look out and marvel at her creation for all eternity. But Azaroth didn’t know that in creating her perfect children, so pure and righteous, she would also create 9 other beings, vile and wretched.
These 9 beings of evil were the opposite forces of her children, and they hated the deities. They would declare war on the gods and vow to destroy them. In retaliation to this, Azaroth would create the second realm, what we know of today as Hell. It was this place that Azaroth would banish the evil beings to toil in the atrocities they wished to inflict on the gods forever.
Thousands of years went by, and there was nothing but peace for the gods. Some of them went on to have children of their own, and Atherius prospered. But the gods grew weary of their paradise, and yearned for something more. Hearing their cries, Azaroth created a third realm. This realm would be modeled after Atherius, with rolling hills, vast oceans, and thick forests. She would name this realm Prim, and gift it to the gods. “Do with this realm whatever will make you happy my children '' Azaroth said to them, “For you are the rulers of it, and shall have total control”.
Each of The 9 gods created a race of beings, modeled after themselves. Aldir, the firstborn created the race of man. Adaptive and kind, they were the first race of Prim. Enos created the Elves, mysterious and knowing. Thather created the Dwarves, industrious and wise. Phitar created the Damikin, cunning and agile. Ydis created the Fairies, magical and mischievous. Xehren created the Drakken, strong and astute. Tedia created the Merfolk, beautiful and clever. Cyris created the Centaurs, the protectors of the woods, and finally Ghazgyn created the Surrithens, the sentinels of the skies.
The races would go on to create their own civilizations, and the gods would watch over them. Gifting them magic, wealth, and strength the races would prosper. Cities were constructed, infrastructure boomed. But The 9 devils grew jealous. For they looked up from Hell in disgust of what the gods had created on Prim, knowing that they should be the rightful rulers of the middle realm. They began to gain influence on Prim through the vast wells of magic the mortals used in their daily lives. With these opportunities, they created monsters. Evil creatures with violent intent began sprouting up on Prim, and the otherwise peaceful world saw its first war. With the strength lent to them from the gods, the mortals were able to fend off the monsters. Armies and defenses were constructed to be used to keep the evil at bay.
For thousands of years life on Prim would continue to prosper, despite the need to defend it from evil. For with the power of the gods on their side, the mortals had nothing to fear. This all changed one fateful day 100 years ago. The gods vanished, and so did their influence on this world.
Magic became more difficult to control, crops were slower to harvest, and the mortals lost much of their strength. No one knew how or why the gods had abandoned them, but life had become much more difficult. The high council of Primden began work on reopening communion with the gods, but this would prove to be the biggest mistake in our history. For when they enacted the ritual to commune with the lost gods, something went awry.
A portal was opened to Hell, and with it, a direct line for the Devils to influence Prim. Seizing the opportunity, The 9 Devils sent through the portal their strongest generals, the 5 pillars of death. The Lich King, Urok the Pestilent Chief, The Omni-Elemental, The Shadow, and The Gatekeeper. It was on that day that our world was doomed to fall. It was on that day, when the forces of Evil… had won.
~nameless bard, in a tavern of a town not located on any map
Our story begins with a young man by the name of Dekram Khasto. Dekram was much like the other young men of the town of Kinubar. With a modest job working at the docks, a loving woman waiting for him every night, and a strong thirst for ale. There seemed to be nothing extraordinary about his life. He was a good man that lived by an astute set of morals. These morals were not that of the humble natured holy man by any means, but they kept Dekram from doing anything he would go to regret.
“You can swindle the poor fool playing dice in the street, but damned be your soul if you deceive one who cares for you.”
This was something that Dekram reminded himself of often. His morals were something that he held very near and dear to his heart, even if others tended to not understand. This is what kept him an “honest man” even if not everyone saw him that way.
The town of Kinubar was something of a strange place, at least for the time. Not quite the size of a city, but much larger than the small hamlets that scattered the countryside. Kinubar was run primarily by the Church of The 9, and it’s priesthood. The town had a mayor, and in fact a whole cabinet of political figures. This however, was not a time where the traditional governmental authorities held much power. “Maybe the kings of the capital cities hold more sway over their people” Dekram would often think to himself, but somehow he doubted even that. Ever since the fall of the council, and subsequently the entire united capital of Primden, fancy titles and perceived power meant nothing to the people of Prim.
Kinubar was a town that had thrived on it’s wonderful geographic location. Thanks to the river Dendra, it was the only town this far inland that was reachable by sea faring boats. This made it a prime location for cargo ships and trade vessels to port in the town's docks and bring valuable business to a town which otherwise had very little in terms of industry. There was an adventurers guild in town, but so it was in any town with more than 1000 people creating and attracting problems for one another. The largest building in all of Kinubar was the church. Large sprawling stained glass windows, imposing flying buttresses, and a steeple that stood over 200 feet in the air. The Church of The 9 was certainly a sight to behold.
As Dekram walked down the dusty cobblestone veins of the town of Kinubar, he thought of the day. The wonderful breakfast assortment that Rohe, his fiancee, had made for him this morning.
“What was the occasion?” he thought to himself, “I was so busy enjoying it that I forgot to stop and think of what it meant”
Rohe was Dekrams long term fiancee, and that thought never set well with her. Dekram knew she wanted to be wed, but something of the thought frightened Dekram so much that he would always find a reason to push it back.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“We will wed as soon as I get the job at the docks,” he told her 4 years ago.
He was just recently promoted to ledger. No more hauling around crates and breaking his back. Was this the time? Or could he think of another excuse?
The truth was Dekram was afraid of being wed because of the state of the world. Dekram had seen many terrible things in his life, and although he hadn’t yet been born the last time the gods were communed with, he couldn’t help but think that was the way the world was supposed to be.
“Magic filling everyone’s bodies, the smallest of lads having the strength of 10 men of today, oh how wonderful the world must have been!”
He remembered saying to his great-grandfather Orthol, who was 18 years of age when the fall of the council happened. The truth was that Dekram felt far too weak to foster another being into this life, and he knew that as soon as he wed it would be an unavoidable obligation. Dekram loved Rohe, she was the light of his life, but he worried that she was far too cavalier about how dangerous it was to be alive in a world like this.
As Dekram approached The Wayward, the place where he’d be spending his hard earned coin tonight, he pushed all of these thoughts out of his mind. There would be plenty of time to dwell on current circumstances after he was good and drunk.
The Wayward was a fine establishment. With strong oaken pillars holding up a second story decking, soaked wooden planks making up the walls separated the street from the festivities inside, and a large paned glass window by the front door that Dekram would always look in before entering to get a glimpse of the nights patrons before pushing through the door with a cheer. The barkeep Elyhn knew Dekram very well, and as he walked through the splintering, well used doorway she exclaimed
“There’s my favorite customer!”
“Oh you know I love to have the privilege of being your customer my dear Elyhn.” Dekram retorted. “It’s a sort of bond that we have. I give you all my coin, and you get me so drunk I can barely find my way home”
Elyhn was a tall, slender elven woman of middle age. No one was quite sure how old she was, as elves typically live for hundreds of years, and she never would disclose her age to patrons of the bar. The only one who knew her true age was her husband Rewyn, and he typically kept to himself and his studies. The two of them ran the Inn and Tavern together, with Elyhn running the front and doing most of the cleaning, while Rewyn kept the books and occasionally tossed out the overly rowdy compatron. They had moved to Kinubar and opened the Inn nearly 60 years back, when the dock and the church were the only things of notice in the town.
As Elyhn set a mug of ale down in front of Dekram at the bar, she gestured to a traveling bard in the corner of the room who was trying to earn his drinks for the night. Dekram looked over to the bard and said
“Oh good! It’s been far too long since I’ve heard a riveting tale. Please, indulge us.”
He tossed a coin towards the bard who deftly caught it midair, gave it a bite and looked up with a smile.
“My pleasure my lord” he resounded, and began on a tale of a mighty adventurer taking on the monumental task of slaying a dragon.
Dekram always did enjoy hearing tales of brave adventurers. Adventurers like his father, Hiam. Hiam Khasto, the pride of Kinubar. Dekrams father was a man well renowned all over Prim for his glorious exploits. Many traveling bards and jesters shared tales, both fact and fiction of the mighty Hiam Khasto. When he was just a boy, Dekram remembered his father being gone for months at a time, but every time he returned the whole town would throw a feast in his honor. Each time he returned with a story more unbelievable than the last, and Dekram admired his father for this very much.
“So how are things down at the dock?” Elyhn gestured to Dekram as she spoke, “Any exciting new tales of missing crates or barrels? Any wondrous mysteries of why the lumber ship was arriving 3 days late?” she cracked a smile in jest.
“Oh you know” Dekram replied, “It’s much the same”
he looked into his mug, swirling it around gently as he spoke.
That’s how Dekram preferred it, predictable. He had no thoughts of grandeur or excitement.
“It’s alright though” he continued, “For now I’m here, I have a full cup, and I’m surrounded by friends and family”
Elyhn’s smile grew wide when he said this, she grabbed Dekrams shoulder with one hand, gave it a small shake and said “That’s right my friend. You are most certainly right”.
Dekram grinned quietly to himself as he thought of the wonderful life he had. Through all of the turmoil this world had seen in the last hundred years, and the conflict looming just outside the town limits, he had somehow ended up in a peaceful life that he wouldn’t trade for the world.
Just at this time the bard was finishing his epic tale, and describing how against all odds, the adventurer, wounded and on the brink of death thrust his blade one last time into the dragon's neck and vanquished it.
“As he slink back down to the ground where he knew he was sure to parish, he knew one thing more. He had saved the lands from certain destruction” the crowd applauded for the bard, and he took a bow. “What did you think of my tale, my lord? Was it sufficiently to your liking?”
It was as the bard said this that Dekram noticed he hadn’t been listening the entire time.
“Oh yes, it was a fantastic tale my good man!”
Dekram responded with a nervous smile as he hoped that he hadn’t endorsed something that was sure to give him grief at the docks the next morning.
“Would you like to hear another, my lord?” The bard grew a mischievous smile “For two more coins I have a most exciting tale that I save only for special occasions”.
Dekram felt bad for failing to listen to the bard's previous story, but his pockets were light as it was, and he knew that he had to buy flowers for Rohe if he were staying out all night. “Another time, maybe” Dekram responded to the bard, whose face slunk slightly at the denial.
“Very well” The bard said and was off to try to show off his performative skills elsewhere.
Just as Dekram turned back to return to his drink, Elyhn turned to him and said
“Oh, I almost forgot!”
“Forgot what?” Dekram inquired.
“Some man came looking for you today.” Elyhn reported, “Never seen him around before. Didn’t say where he knew you from, but I doubt he would’ve told me if I had asked him”
Dekram felt a mysterious chill run down his spine when he heard this. He didn’t know why, the worst case scenario was probably a tax collector. But something about the situation seemed off. Who would come looking for him at the bar? If it was someone he actually knew, they’d know that Rohe stays at their little home all day looking after her garden, and that during the day Dekram was almost always found at the docks working.
“What did this man look like?” Dekram asked.
“Couldn’t get much of a look at him.” Elyhn replied, “He was wearing a cloak and never took his hood down. A bit of a shady character if you ask me”
With that, Elyhn walked down the length of the bar, tending to another patron at the end.
Dekram tried to not let this mysterious happening get to him. He returned to his drink, finished it off, and got up to go relieve himself. When he came back, he grabbed his mug which was conveniently filled again while he was away, and began to mingle with his fellow patrons. Dekram saw a close friend of his, an elven man named Jonik. Jonik was a very angular type of fellow, from his cheekbones and nose to his musculature. Jonik even had angular feet which Dekram always found strange.
The two had been friends since they were children. Jonik was orphaned as a baby, and was taken in by Mera, the owner of the other Inn in the town of Kinubar. Mera was always kind to Jonik, and gave him everything he needed, but running an Inn gave her little time to raise him. This meant that from a young age, Jonik was wandering the streets during the day causing trouble for the locals. This is how he found Dekram.