ITT: tg builds a setting

Long ago, before the Moon Tael fell to become the Taelish Mountain, when both Morre and Yene cast their tyrannical flame upon Erens, the lands hot and constantly battered by the Shrieking Seas, more blood than water.

Seeking a home for humans away from the hunger of the seas, Witch-Mother Izdihar ventured forth.

Through the scorched mountains, over the lifeless prairies, past the teeth of the forests Izdihar went. Great were her magics, but greater was the power of Morre and Yene.

When all hope was lost, Izdihar collapsed in the dead land now known as Izdihar's Salvation, where the Jinan people found her. The Jinan, blessed by the Silent Ones, brought Izdihar back from the brink of death and taught her how to tame the Seas. In return, she gave them two sons, conceived with their King. The King offered Izdihar his heart and a crown, but the Witch-Mother instead went to her people, the humans.

By the time Izdihar returned, her sons were full grown and almost as capable as their mother in great acts of magic. Izdihar lashed the seas to her will, and raised new fertile land from beneath them.

The Witch-Mother's sons became kings, Karam the Wise, and Rayyan the Jubilant. The Witch-Mother's people split between the two, creating the ancient civilizations all humans come from. The Witch-Mother herself left to meditate, although many places claim to be the place where she sat for three hundred years, none can prove it.

Morre and Yene were not content to see humans become prosperous and grow. Yene, ever more aggressive, pushed herself closer to Erens, to scorch all life from it. The Shrieking Seas began to turn to steam, crops wilted, the magics of Karam and Rayyan were used to shield the people, but Yene just fell ever closer to the land.

Idzihar returned from her meditations to unleash her Devouring Void, using her own soul to strip Yene's Fire and to scatter what was left of Yene into the Darkness, creating stars. Morre became cold and distant in revenge.

Attached: 456ce589c58e44adc8234ad849573059.jpg (500x666, 35K)

The Silent Ones, as connected to the land as they were, disappeared following Yene's violence.
Travellers from the far East will often tell tales of cults who still worship the Silent Ones, deep in the Ironeye Mountains.

The people of Karam the Wise, who would come to be known as the Architects of Karam, went on to populate much of the then-unnamed continent.
Their endless innovation and appetite to expand resulted in the creation of vast cities, dwarfing even the Jinan's cities of legend.
Never content with living in his brother's shadow, Rayyan the Jubilant gathered his people onto sprawling village-boats, and took to the now-sailable Shrieking Seas following Yene's destruction.

In a time when Morre and Yene were young, barely candles in the sky, the Rusilo peoples had reached the surface, escaping the containment and the now deserted cities of their now dead masters. In the strange land of the surface, they did as they had always done, imitated what they found and hoped for the best. As time passed and the sky grew more merciless and their numbers began to dwindle, they abandoned their cities of imitations and returned to the long derelict cities of their long dead masters in the deep underground and waited for the end.
The end never did come, however, and now, refreshed, they are turning their eyes back to the surface.

The Brotherhood of Izdihar, who have their largest monastery on the Taelish Mountain, seek every scrap and fragment of the Witch-Mother's writings and magic. They wish to make a new sun, without the coldness of Morre or the cruelty of Yene. Secretly still, their high priests seek the restoration of the Witch-Mother, who had sacrificed herself for the world.

Heretical rumors that a dark cult of exiled Jinan liches support this endeavor, with their leader silently manipulating the kings of man.

The Architects of Karam fought the bitter cold of Morre's vengeful neglect with ingenuity, combining fire magic with powerful furnaces and pipes running thoughout their cities.
Rayyan's people chose to fight the growing cold by travelling further South, hoping to find a warmer climate where his people could flourish.
Rayyan himself captained the largest village-boat, leaving his people to regroup and gather supplies as he took his most favoured sons further south than ever before.
The details of Rayyan's fall have been lost to time, but it is known that when he returned to his people, he had changed. Bearing a rictus grin and damp white skin, Rayyan and his village-boat of champions had changed terribly. Where their hearts once beat with the blood of a god, now a dimly flickering flame resided in their chests. What was once Rayyan began to massacre his people, resurrecting the dead with the necrotic flame he now carried, expanding his legion of marauders.
The few village-boats that escaped returned to Karam's cities, warning the king of his brother's change.
An epic battle between the brothers never came, and in fact they never met again. Rayyan and his legion are said to still haunt the Shrieking Seas to this day, attacking any who venture too far south. Karam, driven mad by his brother's disappearance, became enamoured with creating clockwork automatons, all resembling his lost brother.

The Jinan, the only people who can freely exist in all Three Planes at once, have receded into the First Plane. Rare is it that one witnesses a Jinan, rarer still is witnessing one unexiled.

The banished Jinan are a terrible sort, who maintain their existences on the Second Plane through magic too dark for most to even think of, let alone mention. Stories abound of men and women being seduced by alluring travelers, only to have every drop of blood and soul drained from them. Yet these vagrants of story are the mere beggars of the exiled Jinan... worse yet lurk

I love these threads, it's a shame they don't always get good traction.

Beyond the Planes of the realm exists the farthest points of creation, the Atra Poles. At the tip of each pole is a cage, a prison of will, within are bound the Hesha, the Primal Elements. These boundless entities forged the Planes in their violent struggles, and would have likely shattered the world's if it were not for Vsushir, the first of the Atru, who caught the Hesha and caged them with her will and locked then to each point of reality, to maintain the balance of the material. Even now, the Hesha claw at their prisons, bleeding their elemental mana into the planes beneath.

Heba the Keen, the greatest archer ever to walk the lands, whose srrows were not of stone or metal, but Words. For she knew the True Name of the Atru, Sleeping Ones, the Eldest Gods, and The World itself.

Fir this reason, when Anash the Pale stole her as his bride, he trapped her Voice in a stone and tossed into the Sea so she would be his eternally with no hope of escape

Heba had once faced the Atru, Omido the Flowing, who was an arrogant and prideful god. Omido challenged her to a match of speed, as Omido was so fast he could cross the Atra Poles from point to point in the space between breaths. To make it fair, he allowed Heba to notch a word on her lips before he started after her. However, Omido underestimated Heba, and the instant he took off towards her, Hebas word struck him like a bolt of light, shattering him and scattering his body like rain.

It is said that Omido, now a river of silver water, runs into the Sea, searching the depths for ages in search of Hebas voice, so he may free his greatest rival and the one person to best him in a contest of speed.

It is a perilous time for the
world. A brutal civil war has
all but destroyed the Paladin
Order, leaving the ailing
Alliance on the verge of
collapse.

Amid the turmoil, the evil
Dark Lords have spread across the
lands, hunting down and
destroying the remaining
Paladins Knights.

Narrowly escaping a deadly
ambush, the last known
Paladin clings to life aboard a
battered freighter near the
ravaged city of Peragus....…

As Karam fell into a spell of tears and madness, he locked himself within his great palace never to be seen or heard of again
His kingdom shattered with his absence, his trusted Architects claimed the cites they had built for themselves causing what many call the city-state period of what would be known as the realm of Karamia
The four sons of karam, having been betrayed by his Architects, left looking for a new home
Each took ten thousand men and women and followed one of the four cardinal directions to find new homelands

The evil dark lords, or as they are better know, the Lords of the Metal Pillars, have ravaged the land to an untold degree.

One day, the Planes were disturbed, something that had never happened before, and a dozen pillars of metal came crashing through the Atra Poles, knocking aside the Atru who were busying themselves with some cosmic game, and crashed into the Three Planes like spears. From within these pillars came men of metal, the Lords, who hold command of the Mytelic Castes, Copper, Iron, Platinum, Silver, Gold, Brass and Dragonsteel. From these Castes came the Artificial, races of metal beings who the Lords rule . The Artificial armies and their terrible Lords have marched out, conquering and destroying the Planes to forge an empire of metal.

I hate it.

Attached: 582835823.png (300x300, 124K)

The eldest son went to the hot desert of the south.
The second son went beyond the mountains of the east.
The third son went to the coastlines of the west
The youngest son went to the cold forests of the north

The youngest son ended up meeting the Bite of Winter, the very spirit of the freezing cold season, and the two fell in love, creating a kingdom in the frigid forests together. It is said they had five children together, two mortal, two spiritual, and one a mix of the two.

One day, one of the stars in the sky, born of Yenes destruction, fell to the land. There, it cracked open like an egg, and spilled forth the Yenes Hate, the Yeru, a race of foul monsters that spread across the Planes, and still blight the lands to this day. The Yeru exist in countless shapes and sizes, from horrible little gremlins, to immense reptile like monsters.

After losing many from heat and starvation, the eldest son and his people finally settled around the fertile rivers. There, they discovered the ruins of ancient civilization, buried in the sand.

k

The Relics of Izdihar are sought as either sacred artifacts... or powerful objects of destruction and suffering.

You guys should've started with simple stuff

Whats OP gonna do about it?

What are the main factions?

you might make up from here

These threads are always so cringy

I hate it when people have fun

Nothing.

Anash the Pale fathered many children with his voiceless unwilling queen Heba. Sangiv the Fury, Isharr the Decadent Courtesan, Hamaad the Kingeater, Ghaleb the Hundred-Armed, the 55 Laughing Daughters of Anash...

Of all these, there was Samir the Veiled, a cunning and hedonistic Anashite. He alone inherited his mother's nature.

Samir was said to be so beautiful he regularly disguised himself as his 55 Laughing Sisters or as Isharr herself. Oftentimes, however, he kept himself veiled and hidden, watching from the shadows and never drawing too much attention to himself. It's doubtful that Anash even realized Samir had escaped until two hundred years passed.

Many stories follow Samir, such as his seduction and murder of the Yeru King, or his seduction and impregnation of the Winter-Flower, who is said to have the very Blood of Izdihar in her cold veins. Also spoken of is his wrestling of the Atru Edemen, his slaying of the Rusilon Heart-Eater, his valor at the battle of the Ironeye Mountains, his rescue of the children locked in the Spine-of-Morre Tower, and in the most legendary story of all... how he stole the Secret of the Missing Needle from Vsushir herself.

A traveling monk or an itinerant beggar may tell you the story, if you care to hear, of a tall person in rich silks with a rusting sword sharing coffee or tea with them. All that can be seen of their face are their eyes, which hold the Pale as all Anashites do, as if their irises were made of abalone shells.

It's been good, thread.