The Gods are Dead.
Men killed them.
One hundred years ago, what was left of mankind launched an assault upon the Heavens. Eons before the same had occured, and eons before the Gods had won, choosing to abandon the survivors and retreat into their Astral Realm. As time passed and the scars the Gods left upon the worlds they attacked did not heal, the fear the survivors felt festered, and turned to hate. Eventually, the worlds became unstable, teeteering upon the brink, but the Gods were not there to notice, not there to listen, not there to see their coming doom.
The first blows fell upon a world like many others, a small band of beings from the past; thrown together by unexpected circumstances and transported to the future by the dimension-shifting fortress of the first war, joined forces with a survivor against two others. Tne ensuing conflict was planetary in scope and incomprehensible in power, but eventually with the help of the Archlich and his immortal pet, the adventurers succeeded.
But the Gods had noticed the war, and out of fear they moved to ensure that mortals would never threaten them again.
The Mortals struck first. The Adventurers sparked off a near universe-wide rebellion, banding together a thousand worlds and forming an army above and beyond any that had come before, soldiers of impossible power stood toe to toe with immortal Angels and won, Daemons from beyond the Gate led unholy armies that bowed to the will of Man, and in the final hours of the conflict, the heavens burned.
But the death of Gods is not a light thing, as they fell their works upon the worlds became undone, even as the essence of the final God spilled out into the hellfire that consumed his realm the subtle magics that held the fabric of reality together began to unravel. In the final moment, Man looked upon what he had done as the Heavens detonated around him, Man looked upon his work.
He saw that it was good.
The effects of the Heavens collapsing upon the Prime Material were immediate and profound. Overnight the dimensions of time and space were smeared across the Universe like a bug on a windscreen, beings and beasts of all shapes and sizes awoke upon worlds that were not their own, in times that were not their own.
For one hundred relative years, those who survived have tried to rebuild. Without the Gods to tend to the flows of mana, most Magic ceased to function reliably, Divine Magic ceased to function at all. Without the aid of powerful world-changing spells and city-building marvels, the scattered survivors have found life harder than ever before.
But all is not lost, in the last century or so some beings on the more habitable worlds have begun to regroup, to carve out new empires for themselves. And it is on the fringes of these empires that Adventure awaits...
I'm going to try aiming for a more cohesive party this time around. You guys need to get together and decide why you're all together, what kind of world are you on? Where did you come from? You guys get to decide the overarching concepts (We are a band of Dwarves from a newly established Dwarven Kingdom seeking to expand it's borders and strike the earth! The world we found ourselves upon is large, with heavy gravity and lots of hot deserts interspaced by thick jungle where the rains fall!) and i'll flesh out the details.
This campaign will be run West Marches style, with numerous other rules that are still up in the air. Note that while i'm tentatively willing to accept wierd races like Thri-kreen and whatnot, i'd much prefer if you guys kept it to at least vaguely human-like characters.
Discuss.
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Topic: Moar DnDs on the Interwebs (Back to Fridays\Sundays) (Read 88654 times)