
by Invalid.Username
In the Holy Empire of Vehawlis life is harsh for those living under the shadow cast by the great and mighty red wood tree known as Soulkeeper. As well as for those who live up high above the ground. A land whose population has rapidly spiralled out of control in their confined corner of an isolated landmass called Essenrahenda. Or so those seated atop the crown continue to claim. In the year 1879Vu (Vehawlis Unified) the darkest age since the First Total Lightfall eclipsed the sky has arisen. The Night continues to slowly steal up more of the light from each Day. Her foul whispers reaching more ears. Root fiends swarm in greater numbers, devouring and infesting everything not protected by light. Fields and farms and all of nature have become stunted and struggle to grow. The people are broken and wilting. They say it's been nearly 100 years since the most common meal on any menu became the meat from large insects and executed criminals in equal measure. And always, a healthy dose of tree pulp. Free off any ration cart. A land where it has become common place for slaves and criminals to be treated as nothing more than batteries to power mighty war spells, or even just simple street lamps, and orphaned children make their coin by picking corpses apart in the street. Surely the Empire must continue to expand in order to reverse these cruel traditions. Yet in the distant outlands, along the fringes, the people are able to keep weight on their bones and the adults and children can often be seen with smiles plastered across their faces. Sometimes sullen, often jolly, and ever at work. Or so the whispers of merchants and mercenaries say. A deep rot has settled into the Realm of Man and the winds of change have begun to blow over the Rupture Root Mountains once again. After all, a broken Empire can only maintain it's facade for so long. As one son of a disgraced house goes off to war in the distant hills and mountains, in an attempt to reclaim the lost honour of his name, his ill-fated brother will go another way. Pride and curiosity. How much can such ideals force a person to change? And at what point is it too far to be able to look back? A darkness grows in the mud, where the roots have started to fester and rot.
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