I - The Age of the Gods - Fantasy

In the beginning, the world was dark, and full of monsters.

The Ten Tribes of Autumn started no better than beasts of the land, hiding in the margins and eking out a meager existence. Yet when each day was a war for survival, these ancients still cared for the sick and the old. They held together in communities for mutual defense. They even found time for art such as beautiful, intricately-detailed cave paintings.

Which recount legends of a time before time, and the fall from grace. It was said there was once a great city, Elysium. Where all could live in plenty, under the watchful and loving guidance of gods. However, the sinful ways of mortals led to a war that destroyed that city, and spawned the monsters.

The people prayed for salvation, and a second chance was extended. Incarnated gods rode out of the wilderness at choice sites across the world, to found new cities and guilds, shielded by the faith and devotion of the people. Through that, gods and their auras repelled the forces of the dark, and craved out islands of light.

Not content to live behind high stone walls in complacent safety, mortals sallied forth in adventuring companies. Bearing divine light magic and learning even to use the enemy’s dark magic, they scoured the lands of the beasts, and sought them even unto their deepest, darkest lairs.

Dungeons housing horrors were the grave of many an overconfident warrior, and fates worse awaited those captured in the dark. Yet something in the humanoid spirit drove them ever more onwards. They came again and again, striking from their secured basis of power in the holy cities. With no way to retaliate, the forces of darkness would be winnowed down to nothing but a bad memory.

Recognizing this, the dark gods came to terms with their counterparts, and those who would not convert and live in the light were burned out. What seemed like final victory soon led the people, robbed of purpose and terror, to deviate from heavenly mandates.

The old gods were in decline, but some refused to fade gracefully, and clung to absolute worldly power. Their followers rose up to put them down. The age to come would see Autumn’s every shore settled, sea to shining sea.

By mortals, once the playthings of divinity, who now inherited the world.