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In the lands of Astyria, in a time far beyond the veil of memory, there was the Primordial Bedlam. The world was young; it’s lands uncharted, untested, and, most importantly, untamed. In turn, great beasts from nature herself used their unimaginable power and held their dominion far and wide. Dragons wreathed flames across the skies, oceans and rivers bit and gnashed at the shores, giants crumbled the mountains under their feet, and deep beneath the earth something even greater stirred in the crushing blackness. 

This was before the dawn of man, before the world and her children were conquered. That is, until one day, destiny wove itself into the very fabric of time, and the Asali arrived.  These first blood of man faced challenges unimaginable to us today. Through hardship and sorrow they would try to survive in an unforgiving world. With nowhere to go and so few places to hide, the Asali dug deep into the earth to build their home at Caenum, raising their families and bolstering the strength of their people. Unlike the creatures dwelled above, the Asali had something that resonated deep in their hearts; ambition. They longed for the skies and the oceans, the green fields and towering mountains. In their unceasing search for more, one sudden day, the Asali had found their answer. One that would shake the bedrock of creation, and send ripples to the end of time; the Espial.

Deep in the earth, hiding from the great beasts above, the essence of nature herself was lying in wait, desperate to be found by her most abandoned children. It was a power beyond the might of man, this was the might of the world. Magic. A force that, once mastered, would allow the Asali to conquer the lands that waited above their caves and hovels; and master it, they did. With the Espial, a new age had dawned, the Age of Magic. The Asali stepped from their caves with their newfound power and set their sights against the creatures and beasts that had contained them to the world below for so very long.

It was a time of righteous usurpation and discovery. The great beasts and wild lands were forced to obey their new masters. The struggles of the Asali would be legendary. Heroes would rise and fall, myths would form, and as time marched on, the world as we know it would begin to take shape.

With the Age of Magic came the Great Migration. An uncharted world stretching beyond every horizon and the Asali would leave no stone unturned in their conquest. They searched the highest peaks, the densest jungles, and the deepest caves, finding that they were not alone in the world. In the north eastern jungles, they encountered the Ethuri, tall in stature and cat-like. To the Northern ridge, there was the Ursari, bear-folk of the Frozen Bays. Everywhere the Great Migration took them, they found new faces, allies, and even enemies.

As the Asali settled across the world, they brought their teachings of magic with them. Time marched on, and 3000 years later, the original people of the Asali had all but gone, replaced by their ancestors as they acclimated to their new homes from the Great Migration. Even those who had remained at Caenum had begun to change under the influence of such prolonged magic use, abandoning their old Asali name.

From the peaks of the Northern Icelands with its hearty and steadfast Brunics, to the powerful Umbral mages of the southern wood, the world was prosperous and bountiful. Some, however, more than others. With the blood of the Asali in their veins, the peoples of the world had found something hereditary within them, most notably, a never ending ambition and an insatiable need for more. Greed took root in their hearts and after so many years of relative peace, the people of Astyria would find themselves at odds with one another on a scale never seen before.

Deep in the Astyrian heartlands, the descendants of the Asali who lived there, had built their kingdom out of the Caenum mountains their ancestors called home. It was monolithic. A collection of towering obelisks pointing to the heavens, resonating with the ancient magic of the Espial. The reign of these people, the Caenic, would make themselves known across the land. The fertile fields and bountiful river beds around them were brought about by their mastery of magic, and allowed them to spread their influence far and wide. Such wealth would not go unnoticed, however.

It began during the summer, a particularly blistering one. The Umbral tribes would find themselves ravaged by drought and famine. Typically a proud race of warriors with a deep mastery of all magics, including dark, they would find themselves humbled. The Black Chieftains, the highest order of the Umbral mages, would do everything in their power to restore their lands, only to be met with a curse that warped their bloodline forever. Those who survived the affliction had found themselves changed; their skin grayed, eyes were bloodied, and painful horns sprouted from their skulls. In their hubris against nature, they became a marked people. 

Starving, withered, and cursed, the Umbrals who remained would turn to their neighbors for help. The people of Astyria however, were frightened. Dark magic was old. Old and extremely powerful; rivaling even the light mages of Caenum. With its power, it brought fear. People believed that what had happened to the Umbrals would happen to them as well if they were involved. Before the curse, the Caenic Kings had forged a strong alliance with the Umbral Black Chieftains. However, after their curse, and to the Umbral’s surprise, they found that alliance broken as they were turned away and threatened under arrow volley at the gates of Caenum. Such a personal blow would push them to the edge.

With nowhere to turn to, closed off and isolated, the Umbral tribes acted out of desperation. If they could not get the help they would need to save their people, then they would take it by force. Thus, the Tempest Wars had begun. Unlike any before it, casting a shadow to every corner of the world. Though Atsyria was no stranger to conflict, the scale of the Tempest Wars had never been seen before, as each of the neighboring kingdoms found themselves entangled into the fold. For years, the people of Astyria would spill each other's blood, and at the forefront of each battle was magic; the very tool used to unite the Asali against the great beasts, now a weapon to be used against each other.

The festering maw of war had swallowed the land, and with it, her people had found new and terrible ways to use the gift of nature to satisfy their ends. Flames would char the flesh of both the living and dead, oceans and rivers would plunge entire villages into the murky depths of the sea, and even souls themselves would be ripped from their flesh. It had seemed as if the Primordial Bedlam had returned, this time wrought by the descendants of those who had fought so tirelessly against it.

At a small river town located on the southern plains of Caenum, the conflict of Tempest Wars would reach its zenith. Under the clouded dark sky and the flash of lightning, the two forces, one-hundred thousand souls strong, would meet. The waters below would run red with the blood of the fallen, their corpses would mount and pile against the river banks, forming an all new ground of flesh and bone. Tens of thousands poured onto the battlefield, wading through their kindred.

Fire wreathed the skies, waters bit and gnashed at the shores, the ground crumbled under the marching feet, and deep beneath the earth something even greater stirred in the crushing blackness. Destiny had arrived once more. 

Suddenly, through the chaos of the bloodshed a crack in the sky erupted. The sound however, was not the call of thunder; but of something much greater. Raining down upon the battlefield were the stars themselves. Their light buffeted the soldiers below and ignited the land in a blaze of torrential bombardment and flashing death. In an instant, tens of thousands of souls had vanished across the land. 

The natural order of Astyria had restored itself, unleashing what would come to be known as the Decennary of Stars upon her people. It was a chain of celestial devastation lasting a decade. Meteors would cleanse the world with unprecedented vengeance. The Decennary of Stars brought an abrupt end to the Tempest Wars. There were no victors, only survivors. The kingdoms of Astyria had no choice but to abandon their fight and try to preserve what was left of their homes. Upon their return however, they would find that even magic itself had weakened, turning brittle in the hands of the people who had mastered it so long ago.

The peoples of the world were scattered yet again, forced to live in their isolation with a fierce and unforgiving nature. Some would find that upon returning home, that there was no longer a home to return too. One such kingdom was none other than the great city of Caenum. Its towering obelisks and divine structures were no more. With the death of Caenum, the world had lost what made it connected. Trade had ceased entirely, and each of the great kingdoms did what they could to stop the Decennary of Stars. One particular group of people were successful. 

In the husk of the Caenum ruins, a new group had begun their rise to power, one whose legacy would remain to this day. Using the teachings of the old Caenic mages, they forged a new kingdom, Boernallye. It was the dawn of a new age, using a new form of light magic, these brave people mastered the essence of life itself, and brought an end to the Decennary of Stars. It had seemed however, that for the most part, it was still too late. The cataclysm had brought about the extinction of countless lives and peoples, never to be seen again. The world had become isolated once more.

In the aftermath of the Decennary of Stars, the vengeance of nature herself was all too apparent. A deep wound was gouged in the earth, cracked, eroded, and cursed, a terrible canyon had formed at the site of the last battle of the Tempest Wars. It ran from sea to sea, a constant reminder to the people of the world of the dangers of black magic. The Divine Fracture. An area so unholy, that even the highest Boernallyean light mages could do nothing to restore life in the area.

As time marched on again, the people of Boernallye had set out to do just what the Caenics worked towards. The Boernallyeans united Astyria. However, unlike the Caenic kings of old who used their power to spread their influence and gain, the Boernallyeans did so as a message of peace and unity, forging what we know as Divinas, a religion brought about from these new life magics.

The Kingdom of Boernallye would rise to prominence in this period; a thriving capital standing like a pillar of light in the aftermath of the end. Everywhere, the kingdoms of the world would rebuild, learning from the darkness of their ancestors and adhering to the new order of nature. Even the Umbral mages, those who had used dark magic so prominently, had begun to focus their energies in the more natural order of magic.

Astyria had found itself in a time of peace that seemed everlasting. Over the course of a thousand years, the old rivalries and hate had been forgotten, swept away in the fallout of the Divine Fracture. However, all good things must come to an end.

With the unexpected death of the great King Pelias, Boernallye finds itself in mourning. Inheriting the throne from his father; the boy king, King Regis IX, now governs from under the watchful eye of his advisors and the church. Beyond the walls of the great kingdom, however, something stirs in the shadows once again. Droughts have worsened, leaving the once prosperous harvest fields to wither and die in the unending heat. The people toil under grinding poverty. Villains, bandits, and rogues prey upon the weak and weary. And worse still, monsters have begun to stalk the land again, cursing, killing, and feasting their way back into the world. Something has gone terribly wrong.

Boernallye needs heroes. King Regis himself has issued a call to arms, offering rewards to those who would fight to keep the peace and help maintain order through the budding chaos. Adventurers and mercenaries from all over Astyria have gathered in his great city, seeking wealth and fame in exchange for the heads of brigands and the occasional monster. Unbeknownst to them, these champions will shape the world. Boernallye needs heroes, but you may have other plans…