Opening Passage

As I'm, for some reason, completely not feeling like drawing maps (that's a new!) or writing massive fluff posts (sheesh, something's wrong with me today) so I'll be doing this compact first session set-up write-up.

Lord Baernavare's movements in the last two years have been a series of successes. He led the bickering desert peoples - orcs, gnomes, kobolds, goblins, elves, his own tribe of desert dwarves and a myriad of other, more bizarre groups, such as the dao djinni and their rivals, the bralani, scorpionfolk and desert trolls away from their crumbling societies in the brink of extinction and to the Hafath Coast. During this grand march, many conflicts arose, but with the calmness of a true Lord, they were settled, one at a time. And when they reached the destination Baernavare had foreseen, an uneasy truce was made between the folks. He appointed his most trusted generals to see over the population and to build a city for them to live in, a fortress protected from one side by the Nyghtul Sea, one by the River Pisces and all others by the unforgiving sand wastelands. He himself, with a small troupe of well-spoken and good-mannered diplomats set off to the archipelago to seek out the peoples there - the races of water and jungle.

Upon his return five months later, he had rallied the Archipelago races, known to be even more rivalling and war-like than the desert folks, and now brought them to the city of Ameliorant, which the desert people had created. Now the Archipelago races settled in, building their own establishments.

Ameliorant has a clear distinction between the two areas, most certainly. The northside, cornered by the sea and the river is made in fashion of grandness, waterwheels and waterfalls, the buildings mostly sleek, tall and adorned. The south side has wide streets, a mostly moderate and humble appearance with practicality as the first priority. The two sides are connected by the Aqueducts, smooth stone half-pipes with fresh riverwater running in them, as a symbol of the unity of the earthen and the aquatic, and to provide clean water for the entire population. The largest construct in the city, the Bastille - the outermost wall - is still not completely finished at this point and construction yards are everywhere.

The extremely colorful population can be seen on the streets (some paved, some grainy sand), day and night. One not knowing better might be terrified in the presence of what most would qualify as monsters or beasts, but those who have been with Lord Baernavare from the beginning understand that the peace, thin as it may be, is strict. Schools and factories of all kind can be found in both Epeiric (the aquatic north side) and Alluvium (the sandy south side) and business does well - the currency used is still the Imperial Gold Piece from the days of the Cosmic Empire. Some of the largest establishments include the Cerulean Seminary, a school of Incarnum, the Blade Monastery, a very large academy for advanced martial techniques, McGabe's Armory, a laboratory/weapons factory and research facility and the Hall of Citizens, the equivalent of a palace and the Conclave, a massive amphitheatre, where speeches, gatherings and meetings with powerful foreign powers are held. They're also digging a sewer system. The atmosphere is often covered in sweaty heat, the smell of salt water and the community of a legion of unfortunates, who may not like each other, but must work side by side to create a military force powerful enough to one day confront the swelling darkness across the desert patch.

For there, things have gone awry. Those long years ago, a den of evil, a mountainous area of black rock, ash and sulphur, the Cauldron, held a force of evil - locked in that hellish place by the Church of Rao. The Raoites' clerics and paladins were unrelenting in their quest to vanquish and seal in the grim population of the Cauldron. But when the power of the divine left them, they had naught but faith to help them. And faith does not go a long way, when the gods are not there to heed prayers. And the Cauldron's nation, led by the Sovereign and his generals, the Searing Six, bursted out like an explosive volcano eruption. First they destroyed the Church of Rao. Then they easily took over the ruins of the Eleven Heaven Cities, which had crashed from the clouds. They spread far with unforeseen rage and calculation, as if they had been planning this moment for centuries, conquering the nations of the continent with what seemed to be ease. They cared little for the savage west coast, where Baernavare would soon lead his ragtag nation, instead pillaging through the fertile midlands and the majestic mountains.

This is what Lord Baernavare is seeking to defeat; legions of creatures more often demons, undead and monsters than humanoids, their six undefeatable generals and their monarch, the Sovereign. There is no hope of victory, many believe. But the Seals of Ruin - the markers of Sovereign-owned land - draw closer and closer and the last war of the continent creeps in the shadows of the remaining few months or weeks like dread mist of hopelessness and fear.

But for now, there is much to be prepared, many stories to unfold and an unseemly group of hardened adventurers to be met and sent on their way, whatever they choose it to be.