The Story is Over. The Evil vanquished. But the story lives on here. Please Remember it well.
The world is dying… That is what they are saying. A massive blight known simply as ‘The Rot’ has stretched out to cover this land and slowly devour it, leaving a bitter and hardened wasteland in its trail. At the center of these dead lands stands The Black City, the former capitol of the Brelani Empire that once held this country together some 200 years ago. Now twisted into some cultist fortress where they proclaim the glory of a new ‘Black Dawn’ as the earth slowly succumbs to The Rot.
The Gods have become distant… Abandoned this world some say. The prayers to Bahamut go unheard and the shrines of Pelor no longer glow with their once radiant light. But the faithful say that we have not been forsaken, that darkness merely muds the waters of the divine and the Gods may yet return.
The darkness is rising… Without order or light the dark things of the world begin to crawl once more. People grow desperate and begin to act in fear. Rumors that the Line of Oeryn, knights of old that were sworn to battle evil, was broken during the fall of the Empire have been to circled the outer crescents. Marauders and thieves, con men and snake oil salesmen, all have come to prey on those who fear the end is coming.
The fate of all rests in the hands of a few… A cleric cast off by his kin, an unlucky thief with a complicated past, and a bashful swordmage who fears his destiny. By Avandra’s luck or by Ioun’s hand, these three may shape the fate of not only Anduris, but the Mortal World itself.