The World

A new era dawned. Humans, no longer merely content with tasting the forbidden fruit of knowledge, reached for the fire of the gods, and stole something new. Magic. Now with such power at their disposal, they could join the other races of the world, but as a rising star amidst a pile of smoldering embers, for so much had already been lost in old wars. They brought with them an age of wonders, a time of tranquility and peace the likes of which hadn't been seen before, and soon all the other races came to share the splendor of mankind's achievement.

First came the Elves, their once majestic kingdoms now reduced to ashes, and with it they lost much of their own power. Forsaking their dying forests, they sought refuge in the embrace of mankind's renaissance. 

The Lamias, with their serpentine lower bodies and humanoid upper forms, abandoned their distant isles and embarked on a journey for the betterment of their future broods. Desperate to save their future generations, they submitted to mankind's tutelage.

Even the reclusive Vampires, who had long secluded themselves within their fortress keeps, could not resist the allure of this new age of mysticism and marvels. 

Only the Succubi, guardians of their mountain strongholds, and the Wolfkin, who lorded over the northern fjords, declined mankind's initial offer. And the Dragonkin were the first to openly reject what they referred to as 'mankind's folly'. 

But their declination wasn't enough to turn aside the other deemed 'lesser' races: goblins, orcs, felinids, bovines, harpies, and the lizardmen. 

For a time there seemed no limit to what mankind could achieve. Through their fingers, the blessings of artifice and magisterium spread like wildfire across the globe. Great cities emerged from ancient bedrock, their spires reaching for the heavens. Illuminated by ethereal arches of light, these celestial beacons connected to vast stations in the lower atmosphere. The stars themselves seemed within mankind's grasp.

And like a fleeting dream, it all fell apart with the coming of the storms.

There are countless stories, each offering their own versions of how they came. Some whispered of the Succubi delving into forbidden archives of ancient magic and unleashing a tempest that devoured the world. Others believed it to be divine retribution, a long-prophesied doom for those who dared challenge the domain of the gods. And there were some who spun tales of the birth of magic winds, conjured not from ancient tomes or apocalyptic prophecies, but from realms beyond reality's grasp. Boundaries were distorted and shattered, allowing the void to seep in, warping the very fabric of natural law itself. There are darker stories still, some few speak of, and fewer dare to believe.

Regardless which story is true, if any, the skies were torn asunder, unleashing great storms that razed the old world to dust. The golden age was vanquished, and all progress was lost. One by one, the great cities fell, until only a solitary bastion remained: Voxsturm.

In a desperate bid for survival, the remnants of every race flocked to this last refuge, forsaking the ruins of the golden age in search of safety. Even the Succubi abandoned their mountain strongholds, their hopes pinned to the sanctuary of Voxsturm. The Wolfkin fled their fjords shortly after, telling tales of vast tempests carving the very earth behind them. The Dragonkin, having lost vast swaths of their population, and telling tales of a mighty vortex that extended from one horizon to another, were the last to reach the city before all hope was lost. 

Centuries after the catastrophe, the city still endures, standing as a testament to resilience amidst the ravages of time. Within its walls, a tapestry of diverse societies and cultures struggle to coexist.

Though humans dominated in numbers, their shared existence has proven a fragile alliance at best. 

And yet, the inhabitants know all too well that mere cooperation is not enough to protect them. Their survival rests on the ethereal beacon, a towering monument built in the center of Voxsturm, and a relic from the bygone golden age. This magnificent structure stands as a bastion of hope against the relentless onslaught, its magical shield warding off destruction.

As the storms rage on, the inhabitants of Voxsturm maintain the shield that protects them from the treacherous weather and work hard to stave off the ever-present threat of destruction. Within the city's walls, power struggles are common, fueled by the scarcity of resources, and the constant fear of the storm's wrath. And yet, amidst the chaos, love blossoms as people seek solace and comfort in the face of adversity. In this tumultuous world, young souls come of age, discover their unique powers and abilities, and find their place in the battle against the storms that threaten to consume them all.