Prologue

The wind howled across the open plains, stirring long-settled ash over scarred earth. It whipped its way over rolling hills and through the branches of ancient groves – many still bearing the marks of war in sundered bark and broken limbs. Once a tapestry of vibrant forests, crystal-clear rivers, and bustling cities filled with laughter and song, the land lay now in mournful silence.

At the heart of this devastation stood the remnants of a colossal fortress, its grand spires shattered and walls crumbling under the weight of time and ruin. This place, where the Great War reached its end, stands now as a witness to the folly of ambition and the seductive lure of power.

Ethereon wasn’t always in ruin.

A century of prosperity passed by after the discovery of the shards; crystalized remnants of the primordial forces that forged the world. Wonderous items that allowed ordinary people to wield extraordinary power.

In the beginning, these gems were a beacon of hope—curing the sick and reviving barren fields. They brought light and life to the realm’s darkest corners. Anyone, it seemed, could attune to a shard, allowing them to tap into a reserve of vitality within them. A connection that transformed farmers into healers and scholars to grand sorcerers overnight… these were the first shardcasters.

Despite the magnificence of this newfound power, it came at a cost. Those who channeled too much of their vitality became physically depleted, needing extended rest to restore their strength. Channeling too close to one’s limit was found to be dangerous, and often deadly.

With practice, a caster’s magic effects became greater and more complex, and the longer it took their reserve of power to deplete.  

Sadly – with great power comes corruption and conquest.

Two great nations rose from the abundance and capabilities the shards provided.

The Kingdom of Sarathel sought to harness their casters for the betterment of all, envisioning a united Ethereon basking in shared prosperity under its rule – by force if need be. Opposing them stood the Dominion of Draekor, a militant empire hungering for dominance seeing the shards as keys to power and control. Tensions simmered, alliances formed and fractured as whispers of war grew louder… magic began filling battlefield roles – and a malevolence from beyond the mortal veil awoke and took notice.

A dark enclave emerged amid the simmering conflict. Servants of an ancient evil who taught them secrets that corrupted their minds and souls.

The first sparks of battle blazed to life – a skirmish over a mineral deposit here, a border dispute there. Within a year’s time, the unease between the two great powers erupted into open conflict, each side accusing the other for diplomatic deterioration.

The Great War intensified beyond anyone’s control.  A maelstrom of steel and sorcery swept across Ethereon like a relentless tide as shardcasters channeled colossal spells tearing through armies and razing cities to the ground.

The leaders of the enclave began whispering promises into the ears of Draekor’s ambitious leaders, offering them unrivaled power through simple rituals and invocations to their dark deity. Ritual sacrifice and secretive bloodletting were used to draw pure darkness across the veil into the material world. Absorbing it allowed Draekor’s shardcasters a quick path to devastating magical effects and prolonged endurance as it mixed with their life force… it became known as tenebris, the essence of darkness.

In time, this path to greater power rendered the bodies and minds of the Draekorian shardcasters twisted and broken, and, as they succumbed to the evil festering inside, the armies of Sarathel began turning the tide. 

Draekor’s leaders, desperate to keep their advantage, gave themselves fully to the gifts provided by the enclave. Sanctioned culling of their less fortunate population bled primordial darkness into their armies, rinvigoting the now demented Drakorian casters. 

Unbeknownst to them, each ritual performed, each invocation completed, and each combatant destroyed fed the insatiable hunger of the eldritch horror salivating beyond the veil. Throughout Ethereon, as dark magic flooded into the mortal realm, the barrier separating the material world from what lies beyond began to fracture. Tendrils of darkness seeped into the land, corrupting those who fought alongside Draekorian shardcasters. Foot soldiers twisted into monstrous beings as magic warped and backfired, unleashing monsters upon the battlefield.

The final confrontation between the two forces was not one of victory but of survival. The military commanders of Sarathel and Draekor realized they stood on the brink of mutual annihilation at the hands of an unseen evil. Their armies lay decimated – their leaders haunted by the consequence of hubris. In that shattered fortress surrounded by echoes of the dying, they forged an uneasy armistice. As the battles faded, the fractured veil began to close. There were no grand ceremonies, no triumphant heroes—only the grim acknowledgment that to continue with conflict was to invite complete obliteration…

In the aftermath of war, Ethereon was reduced to a shadow of its former glory. The shards, once symbols of hope, were confiscated from common folk and consigned to highborn and regional authorities. Captured Draekorian shards were destroyed lest they corrupt potential casters.

The land bore the wounds of twisted enchantments and unchecked ambition. Creatures born from battle retreated into the shadows, having lost the connection to their master. Towns struggled to rebuild amid ruins; trust became a commodity. Beneath it all, the knowledge of the darkness they had witnessed lingered—a silent, pervasive force feeding on the world’s despair.

Yet, amidst the dark, embers of resilience persisted. Whispers of individuals who believed in the possibility of a bright future began to challenge the sorrow that seeped into the hearts of all who had loved and lost during the war.

As the sun sets over the ravaged landscape, casting long shadows like phantoms across the battle scarred earth …

… Ethereon waits for light to shine once more.