Before I begin my discussion on how our society changed during the transition from the old world to the new one, I'll give a brief history lesson for those in the future who are less informed about the Final War and its subsequent consequences. It would be a shame if someone five centuries from now were to pick up this tome and have no idea what the hell I'm talking about.
Throughout the history of the Old World, empires had risen and fallen for many ages. This seems to be the major trend of mortal history: If there's one thing that will cause change and growth, it's something dying. When a great tree falls in a forest, there's a mad scramble for something to take its place. When an animal dies, mushrooms, vultures, and carrion flies all come in to eat the leftovers. When empires fall, kingdoms fight over the real estate that's now available at a premium, along with the resources, technology, and knowledge that allowed that empire to rise. That's simply the way of things. It's sad to see something so great and powerful die, but for one to rise, something else must fall.
They say history is written by the winners, but it is more accurate to say that it is written by the survivors.
Sadly, the fall of the final Old World empires was a bit different from the fate of the numerous empires in human history. Never before had their been two great empires that were so vast, so powerful, and forced into direct, constant competition with one another for increasingly scarce resources. For the first time in history, rather than a single empire's slow decay, two incredibly powerful, magically advanced empires instead came into conflict with one another and refused to back down. Part of what caused their conflict was differing ideology, another part of it was differing religions, but truth be told, the real problem was that resources were getting scarce and both sides were desperate for the last remaining bits of Magusite, the crystalization of magical energy that makes advanced magical equipment possible. The process for artificially generating the stuff had not yet been discovered, so back then it was considered a non-renewable resource. Both the Holy Argent Empire and the New Auric Empire pretended that they had plentiful supplies of the stuff when their stocks were in truth sorely depleted, and unfortunately, each believed their opponent's lies about their "bountiful" supply. So, inevitably, there was a war. The Aurum-Auric War, or as some optimists like to call it, The Final War. The two mightiest empires in the history of the known world did battle with one another, using up all of their remaining Magusite supplies in the hopes of gaining a massive new supply of the stuff, so they would be able to keep their empires going for a few more centuries.
The war itself was brief but horrendous and escalated at a breakneck pace. The exact event that started it is unknown, but within hours, both empires were utilizing their full strength against one another. Blasts of mystical witchfire burned cities to the ground, armies of annihilator-knights were teleported into cities and were butchering citizens by the thousands, and entire provinces were turned into massive killing fields. The entire war was brought to its final, futile stupidity when both sides unleashed forbidden, kingdom destroying magic against one another. The two super spells collided, merged, and became something far more powerful, and horrible, in the process. The result was the destruction of both empires and the creation of what is called the Blighted Hellscape.
Yes, those of you in the future who read this, we named it that. If you ever saw the place, you'd understand why. You know shit's fucked when you look at a place, and that's the only name you can think of putting on the map. Not even the gods will go near that place. That statement is not hyperbole: The prayers and miracles that clerics use to heal and bless others simply will not work there. Whatever eldritch forces now infect that place, not even the gods can overcome.
It came by the name honestly. The water there is either poisonous, acidic, filled with parasites that will tear apart a human body from the inside within an hour, cursed to do horrific things to those who touch or drink it, or any combination thereof. The air will rot your lungs inside of your chest with a single breath and will suck the life from exposed flesh in minutes. Nothing can grow there, and if you were to put your bare finger into the soil, you'd be lucky if all that happened was that the flesh was rotted right off the bone. Sometimes, something grabs you if you try it. Sometimes, it pulls you in, and if you're lucky, you only lose an arm, or maybe you go under and you're never seen again. If you're not lucky, something that looks a little like you comes out, and your friends have to kill it and burn the remains to ash. And then burn those ashes to a finer grade of ash. And then dissolve those ashes in acid just to be safe. Even that sometimes isn't enough. Death is a luxury that many that fall prey to the Blighted Hellscape are not allowed.
The things that live there, if it can be called living, are exactly as horrible as you'd imagine. Blighted, curse-rotted plants, animals, and even what once might have been humanoids roam the ruins of what was once two mighty empires, and any kind of intelligence they might have is of a feral, twisted sort. They don't, strictly speaking, need to eat anything, as the noxious, accursed magic that once created and now maintain that place also sustains the twisted mockery of life that dwells within. Instead, they eat people because it briefly makes them forget the unimaginable agony that is their existence. Death does not come easy in the Blighted Hellscape but fates worse than death are at a premium.
All of this, because neither side was willing to admit that they were running out of critical resources. Of course, a lot of the economy for both empires was based on the Magusite mining industry, and the leaders of said industries held tremendous power and influence within their respective empires. These individuals blocked any research into artificial Magusite development and alternative magic energy sources, deciding that lining their own pockets as their homelands collapsed around them was more important than making sure that their homeland would have a future. They figured that they could just take what money they had and leave if their homeland lost, or would rake in more money with the new Magusite mining that would be called for if their homeland won. They didn't realize that the opposing side was just as desperate for more Magusite, or that both sides would escalate the conflict so severely, so quickly. Since the Aurum-Auric War began and reached its peak far faster than most had imagined, these individuals didn't get out before the formation of the Blighted Hellscape. If there's any mercy in this world, they died quickly. If there's any justice, they are shambling about the ruins of their kingdom, screaming from the unbearable agony that comes from merely existing in the nightmare that region has become.
Alternative mana sources and artificial Magusite was not a pipe dream before the war, by the way. Within twenty years of the Aurum-Auric War, discoveries were made that allowed the soon-to-be-settled New World to not only meet but exceed the energy production that both empires combined would have needed. Scholars believe that if both empires had worked together and concentrated on developing these new energy sources, they could have achieved it in less than five. They were that close, and the process for accomplishing it was that simple. Magusite, once a substance worth fifty times its weight in gold, is now so cheap that bricks of the stuff are given to children as building blocks.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
These days, Aurum or Auric is used as slang for a belligerent, short-sighted, greedy idiot, or as a verb for when someone's greed, stupidity, or short-sightedness gets them killed unnecessarily. That is the legacy of the two greatest empires the Old World ever saw. That, and a ruined world.
Ah, and I suppose now is when I discuss the true extent of the ruin of the Old World, the one we had to leave behind.
Some saw the war coming and saw what the conclusion would be. They saw that both sides were lying about their Magusite reserves and that the current world model was unsustainable. They fled to the Norgum Penninsula, a small region that was not considered important by either empire, as it held no strategic value, only moderate resources, and little, if any, Magusite. Norgum, the homeland of the elves and dwarves.
For decades before the war, the best and brightest from both empires fled to Norgum and worked together to ensure that their new home would survive the shitstorm to come. Wizards, scholars, adventurers, heroes, thieves, whores, princes, anyone who saw that things could only end badly fled there. Barriers were constructed, and plans were made, and everyone hunkered down for what was to come. The coming apocalypse was worse than anyone believed possible, but the barriers held, and Norgum was saved from immediate destruction.
Please note the emphasis on "immediate".
Sadly, the Blighted Hellscape was slowly spreading across the continent. Within a century, the entire continent would be blighted. However, fleeing the continent would not be enough, as, within three centuries, the entire world would be swallowed up by the advancing wave of corruption. Well before then, the seas would become too toxic and acidic to sustain life, and the air too toxic to breathe. While the corruption of the land was relatively slow, neither air nor water stays still for long. By the end of the century, life would be extremely difficult to sustain anywhere on the planet, well before the spreading of corruption took the entire planet. The world was doomed, and there was no means by which the blight could be stopped or contained.
This was when the New World Project began. There's plenty of scholarly works that go into detail over everything that went into it, but the long and short of it was that a portal was created that would take any who stepped through it to a new world, one where we could start anew. It was accomplished in only twenty years, and the remaining eighty years were spent evacuating as many people as possible from the sinking ship our world had become. It was one of the most impressive logistical accomplishments in history, and the fact that more than 87% of the world's projected remaining population was able to be rescued is nothing short of miraculous. Again, there's no shortage of tomes on the details of how it was achieved, so if you're interested in the subject, go read one of them. This tome is regarding how the settlers of this New World adapted, not a full-on history lesson. Be glad I'm giving you this much background.
Once everyone left, we shut the door behind us. Expeditions are sometimes made to collect records, relics, and even the occasional treasure from the ruins of the Old World, and to see if there might have been any change, any sign that our former home may one day be reclaimed. Perhaps more importantly, the journeys are recorded to remind us of what the cost of being too greedy, too proud, too arrogant can be... and to remind us that not even the gods can save us from our stupidity.
The New World is a good place, but it is still largely unsettled and dangerous. We've mostly settled the western half of one of the smallest continents, but much of the eastern half remains a mystery, filled with wonders and dangers aplenty. There is no great rush to expand, as at current we have enough resources, food, and land to meet the current needs of the people. Our new nation of Cradle is largely peaceful, since between the army, the adventurer's guild, and various other groups tasked with the protection of the people, our "Cradle of Civilization" is well defended. It is on the eastern fringes of the Cradle that things are truly dangerous. It is there that you find the Order of the Rookery, the order of "knights" who patrol the frontier for dangers and are the first to respond when the settlements in these regions are threatened.
The order itself is a fine example of how we have adapted to our new world, and how we continue to adapt to changing circumstances.
The Order of the Rookery started as a government-sponsored network of rookeries that bred messenger ravens. These were created in response to outlying settlements being attacked and destroyed by the various dangers of the frontier. The purpose of the Rookeries was to ensure that the frontier and the rest of the kingdom never lost contact with each other, by allowing the swift delivery of messages between the outlying settlements on the frontier and the rest of the kingdom, and as well as to contact the nearest military garrison in times of emergency. Initially, if an emergency message was sent, either soldiers or adventurers would arrive from the nearest city or garrison within half a day. As time passed, things began to change. As Cradle expanded, the frontier became broader, and the distance from the nearest garrison to a settlement in danger made a prompt response difficult, if not impossible. As such, adventurers, mercenaries, soldiers, and even elite knights would be stationed with the rookeries, to serve as the first line of defense and protect the outlying settlements, holding fast against threats until aid from the army or the adventurer's guild could arrive. Over time, the numbers of defenders stationed would grow, and rather than wait for a message calling for aid, some of those stationed protectors would actively patrol the frontier, seeking out potential threats before they endangered innocent lives, becoming peacekeepers as well as protectors. Eventually, between improvements in the kingdom's infrastructure and new developments in communications magic, the need for messenger ravens all but vanished, and the Order of the Rookery became a full-fledged military order, whose "Raven Knights" formed the first defense against anything that might try to harm the citizens of our fledgling kingdom.
While the adventurer's guild still thrives within the kingdom, adventurers regularly take requests to put down dangerous animals, monsters, or criminals within the kingdom, and few of their number willingly go out to the frontier, save by special request. An office of the adventurer's guild cannot make enough money to stay open on the Eastern fringes of civilization, since many of the frontier settlements don't have much in the way of money to offer an adventurer to come and solve a problem. There's plenty of work for an adventurer on the frontier, but there's little chance of being paid well for it. Thus, from now until the day that the continent is fully settled, the Raven Knights are a necessity for keeping peace on the fringes of the kingdom.
However, since the settlements on the frontier are spread so far apart, a Raven Knight has to be used to working alone for extended periods, with only themselves, their steeds, and the open road for company, garbed in empowered armor nearly every hour of the day. It is not uncommon for one to go weeks without seeing another member of their order, or anyone else for that matter. Because of this, the members of the Raven Knights tend to be a little... odd. It takes a certain kind of person to be able to live that kind of life and stay sane.