The Story So Far

In the year 101 After the Cataclysm, an Espitori sailor named Grillion Straek set out into the boundless expanse of the Eastern sea, hoping to find a path to the markets of the West. For millennia, the ocean had been nothing more than a boundless expanse where krakens and leviathans were said to eat any sailor foolish enough to travel. Only Chatherall and Agrimar had ever found anything in that expanse, and in each case it had been miniscule islands barely worth staking a claim to.

But Grillion Straek set out. As the seventh son of a cadet branch of a lesser-known trading family, he had no great prospects in Espitor. If not for his expedition, he likely would have lived a life captaining a ship running spices to the west, and coming back with silver and silks. A respectable life, and to be certain one better than most Espitori could ever dream of. Even the distant scions of the trading dynasties are afforded some measure of respect and dignity.

Grillion Straek did not, however, find a path to the West by going east. Instead, several weeks later, he and his crew found a new world. The first place they found was the mouth of a great river, now known as the River Aenor. More impressive than the river itself, which is so wide across that at its center one cannot see either bank, was that the sailors also found ruins. On one bank of the river, an overgrown city made from black stone rose into the sky. Crossing that vast expanse was a bridge tall enough to sail under made from the same stone. On this first expedition, Grillion Straek and his crew did not establish any permanent colonies. With records of their discovery, they sailed back to Espitor, and the news of their journey changed the geopolitical dance of all the countries in Aetris forever.

In the more than twenty years hence, the New World has come to be called Straekelon, and cities have sprung up along its coast. The first settlement was established by the trade princes and disparate polities of the Espitori Archipelago. Named Straedorp, it was planted at the mouth of the River Aenor. Only a single bridge away from an entire city of ruins, the city's early settlement was heavily influenced by an influx of adventurers. Companies from across Aetris traveled to Straekelon, establishing bases of operation in the towers that the great families of Espitor built to flaunt their wealth and power. They began to probe the depths of the ruins, searching for treasure, and perhaps for an explanation as to where the builders went.

In the shadows of these towers, a darker presence gathered its strength. The Duskters were a newly free clan of vampires. In Aetris, they had risen up, killing their sire. This act violated the most fundamental laws that govern vampiric society. With this target on their back, the Duskters clan made their way to Straedorp, where they began establishing themselves by securing influence amongst the leadership of the colony.

Meanwhile, North of Espitor's nascent colony, the Republic of Chatherall established its own presence on Straekelon. Hemmed in by monarchies on every side in Aetris, the leaders of the republic saw Straekelon as an opportunity to spread the light of liberty without the specter of reaction. Where Espitor's efforts were centered on Straedorp, Chatherall's first colony, Point Liberty, became a staging ground from which numerous other colonies were established. Both the landless poor of the countryside, and impoverished wage workers in the city sought better prospects overseas, founding many new settlements in Chatherall's pursuit of a larger population.

For several years, these colonial ventures developed along their own paths. Espitor established colonies along the cape they'd settled, while a new exploratory voyage struck south and established another outpost. To their north, Chatherall continued expanding until a dense cluster of towns and villages became self sufficient around Point Liberty.

On their expedition south, Espitor's sailors discovered something which many of the intellectuals of Aetris had expected for decades. Along a cape overgrown by dense jungle, they suddenly came upon a clear stretch. There, abutting the coast, was a grand palace. Smoke rose from its chimneys, and spotters reported seeing people moving to and fro from gates built into the palace's impressive walls. Without supplies, captain Freek Biester ordered a party to go ashore and seize supplies from this newly discovered population.

The battle which followed was both brutal and short. Though the Espitori sailors would not discover the truth of where they had arrived, they were attempting to assault the summer palace of the Laiven Dynasty, and the dynasty's honor guard did not take this lightly. Both blade and magic flew into action, and Biester's motley party of men who had been eating hardtack for months was not just routed, but slaughtered. Not a single man returned to the ships of the exploration fleet, and captain Biester ordered the fleet to beat a retreat towards Straedorp with news of what they encountered.

In the meantime, exploration was not confined to voyages along the coast. Up the River Aenor, a merchant prince established Marshfort, a personal colonial project to establish farms in the swamps that surround the river. In Straedorp, adventuring companies sent out expeditions to explore the ruins. Within, they found the glimmering blue dust now known as Shimmersand. The dust is known to empower magic, but no steady supply for research or use has been discovered. With a hunger to know more, the discovery of the dust only led even more adventurers to delve ever deeper into the ruins across the river.

The adventurers of Straedorp brought one more thing back, the deadly disease known as the Ruinplague. The Ruinplague struck swiftly and indiscriminately. Where an adventurer brought it back, it swept through neighborhoods killing all it touched. The only exception were isolated cases, one out of every several hundred dead, who remained not only alive but completely healthy. These survivors were all found to be blessed with magical ability, and many took it upon themselves to spread news of the Ruinplague, whose destruction they had witnessed firsthand.

Unfortunately, the reprieve of these blessed survivors was a false one. Spreading out across the burgeoning colonies of the New World with word of the Ruinplague, these seemingly healthy people would come down with the illness suddenly and without warning. In Chatherallan settlements, densely packed with new settlers as housing was built to accommodate the growing population, the outbreaks were deadly. Hundreds of settlers died, and many of Chatherall's settlements were destroyed entirely. Point Liberty survived, but even this beating heart of Chatherall's colonies saw entire neighborhoods depopulated.

As the disease spread, Straedorp refused to enact a quarantine or any other measures. Where infections broke out they were contained, but as much as possible, the city operated as normal, providing ample opportunities for the disease to strike and spread. In the chaos, the vampires of the Duskter clan turned mortals to bolster their numbers. Scions of the great families of Espitor were offered life eternal amidst the fear of the Ruinplague, while lone victims who stepped into the wrong alleyway at the wrong time were taken without a sound. In the emptied quarters of the city where the plague had struck, but life had not yet returned, the undead moved freely, finding hideaways for their new brethren.

The spread of the Ruinplague also stoked tensions back in Aetris. In Espitor, merchant princes and banking families from the archipelago's various statelets came together to discuss their fear that Chatherall might intervene to seize more territory in their islands. A coalition began to take form, dedicated to the principle of maintaining Espitor free of outside influence. Meanwhile, in Chatherall, savvy politicians painted the Ruinplague as an intentional attack by Espitor. The lengthy travel time between Straekelon and Aetris meant that the Ruinplague could not survive the transit, even within a seemingly asymptomatic carrier. At this remove, yet hearing tales of the destruction wrought by the disease, the voters of Chatherall drove these fearmongering politicians to power, where they continued to beat the drum that Espitor was a threat to the Republic.

Back in Straekelon, the tensions were even more heightened. In fear of attack from Straedorp, Chatherall's colonies began to raise militias. Meanwhile, the elites of Straedorp provided covert support to a fleet of pirates, who began to prey on Chatherallan shipping to and from the New World. It was clear to leaders in both colonies that the tension could not be restrained. The New World now stands on the brink of war.

Amongst the undead, things are yet more chaotic. The vampires of the new world struggled to control their burgeoning numbers. Some are hypnotized by their sires, reifying the very cruelties which the Duskters first rose up against. Others were chained in basements as the clan's nascent leadership attempts to find ways to tame the animalistic impulses of their fellows. Finally, there are those who escaped the control of their sires, but do not control their impulses. Driven to near-madness, these vampires formed an even more chaotic and uncontrolled faction. Operating on animal instinct, they hunted without thought of subtlety, only adding to the fear and chaos that gripped Straedorp amidst the Ruinplague.

Finally, we come to the story of an unlikely collection of adventurers. In Straedorp, our story takes us to the Wayward Corsair. A galleon magically transported to the top of a hill and then converted into an inn and tavern, this establishment was one of the favored haunts of independent adventurers. In one of its many private nooks, four adventurers discussed setting out into the ruins across the river.

Their leader, Edmonde Selman, was the third son of minor Agrimari nobility. Trained in sword and tactic, he had never seen battle. He wore shining armor and carried a beautiful blade, but both were as untested as the man who wielded them.

Eirina Quelthumal, born on the elven island Ithmyl, was the party's mage. At a young age her magical abilities were recognized, and she studied at the secretive mage's college of the elves for decades. Even so, she is young for an elf, and has not offered up to her fellows why she left the elves' idyllic island.

The horns, sharp and gnarled, which sprouted from the head of Maurifius gave most people enough information to speculate why he had fled the old world. One did not need to talk to the fiend-touched to fill in the details of his life with their assumptions, and most felt no need to iron out the details. To those who knew anything about Maurifius beyond their assumptions, rumors swirled that he once served as an assassin for the Great Families of Espitor. Either his fiend-touched nature or his dirty past could have pushed him to the New World, but the truth of Maurifius's life was his own, and he guarded his privacy jealously.

Finally, Jane of Eastreach sidled into the dim corner of the Wayward Corsair. Born in the Northern Marches along the coast of Aetris, she was brought up in lands far less "civilized" than most of the colonists of Straekelon. In the north of Aetris, lands are still wild. Battles with orcs, giants, and monsters are common, and the march-lords must keep their peoples ready at any moment to fight the next threat which arises in the untamed wilderness. Jane survived these many threats, as she did a score of icy winters that were just as dangerous. In those northern lands, the old gods of the world still reign, and Jane was one of their adherents. Here in Straekelon, she carried that faith, and wielded the magic of her gods as well as the staff she always carried.

Together, the four set out across the River Aenor, determined to enter the ruins at a sinkhole in an ancient residential quarter. The Ruinplague did not dissuade them, nor did the rumors of ghosts and monsters within the ancient ruins. Their goal was to find a cure for the Ruinplague, or to die trying. With the world around them on the verge of war and chaos, there was no telling their chances of success.

Crossing the great bridge over the River Aenor, our party stopped briefly. At the bridge's center, one could not see either bank. Here, our heroes had clear sky above, an endless placid expanse of water below, and otherwise they could only see the lengthy expanse of the twisted black stone bridge. Amidst the Ruinplague, few adventurers traveled across the bridge these days. On the day they set out, our party were the only group headed towards the ruins, and it had now been hours since they had seen anyone. Nevertheless, they continued on, determined, and perhaps foolhardy.

And that is where out story sits. The year is 123 AC, and the state of Straekelon is chaotic and uncertain. Only time will tell where that chaos leads.