Prologue: Far From Alone

In the Chained Calendar, the year is thirteen o'four. That many years after the hanging of St. Tiber, his Empire still reigns supreme, though is likened to a home's bones filled with rot from top to bottom. The foundations are held up only by pious priests intent on usurping power from the many magnates and merchant lords to install a theocracy in its place. Further to the south, the Horselord's grip on the Southlands falters more and more each year as Bogmen and Centaurs drive them from the Oceans of Grass. The young Khagan in Celestial Doran hides behind his harem of women and consorts, content to languish in his lust for the rest of his reign, all while the former Hegemon continues to decay around him. The Dwarves of the lower Ventuli Mountains dig greedily into the ground, while their King, Regnvaldr speaks dark magyks into existence to prolong his life well beyond ordinary years, all at the cost of a miasma permeating from their caves to claim the lowlands and valleys surrounding them.

Further to the north, past the Wall of Hydragus, lies the Arbor Wall, an impregnable fortress of nature, containing inside, untold horrors and an untold number of miles of pitch dark canopies. Legend has it, that the Deep Woods continue on forever, though if you ask any trader who's traveled the Eastern Coast, you'll know that legend is far from true.

The Grand Sea to the East has never been searched. It is known that should one be swept out by its raging, thunderous waves, they will likely never be seen again. Living, or not. Great beasts lurk under the tumultuous depths, vying for dominance in a dance eternal, likely one that has continued long before the very same dance was mimicked on land by the Beasts of the Wilds.

The Sonne Mora, a tepid inland sea, teems with life on all coasts. Ships can be seen on the Northern and Eastern ends thicker than a swarm of hornets some say, though as of late, many more abandoned or injured vessels seek shelter from a beast traversing the waves for human flesh. The shadowy creature is known by most as Cthaka Delra, or Sea Demon. Along the Northern shores, tales spread of a group of worshipers hellbent on sinking the world beneath endless waves.

Past the Mulligan's Pass, Inquisitoria march at a blistering pace Northward in the most successful proselytizing campaign in all of Tiberite history. Tribes of blonde haired pagans dwindle more and more as the years pass, supplanted by a new culture. Overwhelming land cultivation around the ancient, unchallenged forests of the subcontinent have resulted in a Unicorn referred to as Famine to build an army to prepare a parade into the Southlands.

Reports from deep into the Meridiem report that a three hundred year, long civil war has finally been broken by the monstrous ghost of a fox known only as Huckasini. Rumors are abound about the rocky shores of the archipelago where a foreign-built ship from the deep sea has made landfall.

You know none of this. You are a boy, barely six in age, accompanying a warband led by your cousin, Therus. Himself, a boy of only fourteen. You live a modest life surrounded by nature, with a close knit family with whom you spend most of your waking hours. The world is small, with many barriers, though you are far from alone.