So, before we move on to the next storyline, it’s time for me to reveal some history of the game. You can skip this part if you like, but the upcoming sessions will have a few unfamiliar terms for the casual reader, and I don’t want anyone to be confused. Basically, this is my way of saying “the critical plot is being introduced during the heroic tier that will take them all the way to level 30, possibly, so here’s some exposition so you’re up to speed.” Essentially what you’re getting here is the quick and dirty version of what is otherwise going to play some integral part in my novels sometime in the future. Obviously, most of the races in the novels will be different, as I won’t be encroaching on Wizard’s copyright, but I’m using what I’ve been given for the game world.
In the beginning, the chaotic energies of the universe roiled about in an empty void. A single spark became a fount of consciousness, and from that fount, the great Gods and Goddesses were created. Some were benevolent, some less so, but all of them had grand plans that they wished to enact upon the universe. All, except one.
Like the other gods, Theria wandered to her own corner of the universe to begin her work, but once she got there, she had no inspiration. She thought, she dreamed, she considered, but nothing came to her mind of the world she wished to create. In her frustration, she began to weep. A single tear fell from her cheek and crashed into the chaos around her, the result stretching and forming into the first of Theriaâ€™s children. Theria smiled as she regarded her first son, watching him as he grew and caring for him as he learned to touch the energies around them and shape it according to his whims. While she watched him play, she gained inspiration.
Out of the stuff of the universe, Theria reached out and shaped the world, warmed by the sun. She planted the seeds of life that would become the forests and grasslands, swamps and marshlands, deserts and tundra. She carved out the oceans and the rivers, setting their tides in motion with a single moon. Her work finished, she set out to create the worldâ€™s inhabitants, but once again, her inspiration failed her, and the world she created was left lonely and empty.
Theria and her son journeyed for many centuries over this world, searching for the inspiration she needed to realize her dream. All the while, she tended to the trees and flowers, to the lakes and rivers, to the marshes and swamps, helping them thrive and grow. Finally, sitting on the bank of a river, inspiration struck her once again as she watched her son, now a man, tending to the plants along the river. She watched as he reached out for a single blade of grass; he touched it, shaped it into something else, something Theria had never imagined before. It was then that she realized that this world was not hers to make alone. Retreating to the void with her son, Theria reached out again to the energies of the universe, carefully and lovingly creating her new children; order from chaos.
As each child came into being, Theria gifted them with names and told them to choose their power. Kitavru came first, quiet and thoughtful, and she quickly mastered control of Time, and through it, Death. Vadza was next, powerful and swift, claiming dominion over War and Travel, which War cannot exist without. Tweli followed Vadza, her soft, gentle spirit offering Protection, the safety of Hearth, the gift of Birth. Then Silxeban, inspired by the warmth of Day and the Peace it promised. He claimed both, and with them, the gift of the Harvest. His opposite in nearly every way, Sorti claimed the Night for herself, as well as the powers of superstition: Luck and Magic. The triplets followed, each brother the exact copy of the other, save their mannerism and their dominion: Ledelit, who took Law into his hands; Ahrax, who believed that Chaos was the one truth; and Mizean, who brought Balance to the world. Eight children had been created, but still Theria was not done.
Reaching out again, Theria gave life to the Scholars, the twin sisters Tghallem and Issama. Tghallem reveled in Knowledge and Lore, where her twin delighted in Innovation. Kahra came next, forsaking the intellectual pursuits of her older sisters, instead directing her energies to Music and Secrets. The last of Theriaâ€™s creative spark went to Perwyl, who claimed Nature for his own.
Her children born, Theria gathered the twelve together. â€śGo now, my creations, my children. Visit this world that I have made, and work your powers upon it as you see fit.â€ť She took her eldest child and retreated once again to her domain in the void. The Twelve pondered her words, and Kitavru said, â€śIt seems unfair that we alone share in the beauty of our motherâ€™s creation. It would seem that we should populate it.â€ť The other gods agreed, and set to work.
Perwyl changed his motherâ€™s vision, growing new forests, digging out canyons and shaping new mountains from the rock. He then created the creatures of the land, air, and sea, both mundane and magical. The Scholars created the Giants, wise, powerful, and full of knowledge. Vadza borrowed from his siblings, carefully crafting the Dwarves and the Dragonborn, stout and powerful beings, ideal for war. The Triplets created the Human and Genasi races, instilling in them the capacity for Law, Chaos, and Balance. Kahra, Tweli, and Silxeban gave life to the Halfling and Tiefling, both of whom inherited Kahraâ€™s love for secrets and trickery. Sorti and Perwyl created the Elves and the Eladrin, similar in appearance and stature, and born with an innate gift of magic. Through it all, Kitavru touched each creation, ensuring that none would live forever.
Theriaâ€™s Eldest watched, angry and jealous, for his brothers and sisters were allowed to create, and he was not. When Theria and the other gods rested, he would steal away in secret to create his own raceâ€¦ insect-like creatures called the Seiqâ€™Ikrah. He gave life to the first four Seiq, intending them to be the leaders of the race, the most powerful. Mardathi, Tingiza, Stkerra, and Tasirik were those creations. They were powerful, and they were full of guile, malice, and anger, just like their creator; for the Eldest was not born of Theriaâ€™s love, but her sorrow and her tears. He and the Four created more forms, the rest of the Seiq, and as they created, the Four worked to poison the Eldestâ€™s mind. When the creations were finished, the Seiq race grew numerous and powerful, under the earth where none knew of their existence. While they flourished, the Four slowly worked to drive the Eldest mad with rage and jealousy, hoping that their creator would ask them to rid the world of the other creations. Finally, his mind warped and broken, the Eldest called upon the Four, ordering them to marshal their soldiers, emerge to the surface, and destroy or twist everything they found.
The first attacks by the Seiq were swift and merciless. Villages and towns were overrun, the races living there twisted into new forms, or mutilated and devoured by the armies of the abominations. At first, the Twelve ignored this threat, knowing that the Seiq could not travel long distances without great effort. Kitavru, however, realized that the Seiq could never die, for they were created without her touch upon them; the abominations could live forever. They tried to treat with the Eldest, to convince him that his creatures must be destroyed and remade. He refused. The Triplets tried to reason with him, saying that True Balance could not be held while the Seiq lived, and still the Eldest ignored their pleas. Vadza tried threats, and the Eldest responded by demolishing a Dwarven mine; the final straw, and the Twelve declared war upon the Eldest and his creations.
The battles were long and bloody for both sides. Every race mustered an army to beat back the vile creations, and countless people died, despite the best efforts of the Twelve. The war raged on for hundreds of years, each new generation of the races fighting legions of battle-hardened Seiq, and the races were losing. Theria watched the wars from afar, content to let her children sort out this war on their own terms.
That is, until the Eldest razed the Garden.
The Garden was Theriaâ€™s place of refuge, where she would go to sit and dream and watch her world go by. After returning from the void, she discovered the charred, blasted remains of her refuge, and immediately went to confront her children. The Twelve informed her of what had happened, and that the Eldest and his legions had fallen upon the refuge and destroyed it.
Theria went into a rage.
When the Seiqâ€™Ikrah went on their next offensive, Theria was there to meet it. Her wrath was fearsome, and the Seiq were decimated or beaten back. As Theria pressed her advantage, she came upon her eldest son, standing on a mountaintop behind his forces, guiding them in their terrible warâ€¦ Gathering all her anger, all her rage, Theria summoned a mighty storm in the sky. A single, blazing bolt shuddered from the heavens, striking the Eldest where he stood, driving him deep within the earth. The mountain erupted, fire and molten rock falling from the sky, incinerating the last of the Seiq army, and charring the land for miles around. Theria, overcome with weariness, grief, and bitterness, died where she fell, utterly spent.
The Seiq had been destroyed. The world was in ruins, bleeding and broken from a thousand wounds to its land and its people. The Twelve tried to restore what they could, but in the end, they were unable to restore everything to its former glory. Theria was gone, and with it, it seemed, the very lifeblood of the world.
The Giants came to call the world Dar na Theria: â€śThe World Without Theria.â€ť