The history of our world covers the events of over five centuries and each day the sun passes to the west, more events are revealed to our scribes to be recorded. The public collection is updated after these significant contributions are copied and the originals preserved and stored for safety. After all, no one wants to relive the events of the Scyllian Library.

After both the Awakening and the Summons, after the founding of the twelve great city-states, and after the gods sent the Highborn, their own children, to bring order to the Far Lands, there was the Accursed. Though the conflict among the gods was not of his design, he turned such arguments to his benefit. Historians claim that there is no doubt that it was the hubris and greed of the Accursed that brought about the near devastation of the World a mere thirty years ago.

The petty attacks, plots of subterfuge, and deeds of treachery began a century ago and ultimately set brother against brother and god against god. Yet only seven years passed under open declaration of war. Legions of soldiers and the fury of the gods combined to lay waste to cities, raise oceans, and flatten mountains as long forgotten slights and insults were brought into the open. But it was the sacrifice of a father to deny the ambition of his son that finally brought the destruction to a close… and may ultimately have damned the world to oblivion.

Over 300 years after the sun was set in motion to bring it’s light to all the World, the god Nemeus was foully betrayed by his youngest son, Xenophon. The words of Iacchia, as written by her priests, tell us that as the Accursed’s blade struck, Nemeus’ physical form vanished, and for an instant, his divine state returned – a towering form of rippling golden flame. In that moment, myriad emotions coursed through the only god to marry a mortal: sadness, disappointment, regret, resolution, and hope. Nemeus reached out to his son and held him fast as the land around them fell to ruin. In an instant, the energies consumed Nemeus, Xenophon, and the very ground they stood upon. That same golden pyroclasm continued outward with great force, spreading like the dawn, yet causing no immediate harm.

The death of a god brought cessation to all hostilities. Wise Eutalia, analytical Iacchia, and ever patient Kerotius led the gods and highborn in creating the Veridion League – mortal representatives of each region – and tasked them with rebuilding the World. Though each region conscripted workers to repair the damage, the League coordinated the massive effort according to the gods’ wishes. Senatorial committees allocated resources between regions, helped direct construction priorities, and set inter-regional patrols to ensure safe trade and travel in these dangerous times.

It was fully six months before the new creatures came forth from the ruins of war: sphynx, minotaur, hydra, and others both glorious and hideous. These were creatures of intelligence and reason, of cunning and ferocity. And still others that appeared only at night, driven by mindless hunger.

At this same time, the strange power we now know as magic had surfaced in random members of the population – young and old, men and women, patricians, plebians, and even common citizens. Thought of as Nemeus’ blessing by some and his curse by others, its effects seemed to mimic the abilities of the highborn as well as those powers wielded by priests in service to the gods. Magic was wildly unpredictable, variable, and most deadly of all, it seemingly answered no master but the desires of the one who held the power - the veneficus.

Within eight months after the death of Nemeus, the gods began to sicken and grow weak. The coruscating deathburst had apparently altered the soil, air, and water in some way; the very World they had been tasked to create was now poison to the gods. To find a solution to this calamity, Eutalia called the eleven remaining gods to council. Though no mortal or highborn knows exactly what transpired behind those doors, they resolved to leave the World. Through her wisdom and far reaching power, Orolia created Lympaea and set it high in the heavens above the island of Veridios. With the Pearl of Heaven as the new home of the gods, they could watch over mankind and guide our achievements through their messengers.

It has been just over three decades since the gods ascended to Lympaea, and much has changed while we struggle with the tasks of day-to-day decisions and the conflicts of self-determination. The Senate of the Veridion League has held its members to standards almost as pure as those enforced by the Priesthood of Kerotius. Only with such strong and dedicated leadership could the rebirth of the World have been achieved. Though not yet fully recovered, the lands that gave rise to the favored of the gods are each able to sustain themselves. Though thankful of the support of the Veridion League, each looks forward to standing on their own.

Perhaps it is the fierce pride such an accomplishment engenders… Or the power tasted by the Senators of the League… Maybe it is the fear of creatures never quite controlled or the force of magic that is still not understood… Tension has grown palpable between the League and the city-states, and suspicions mount between those city-states as well. Neither trade nor travel are as safe as once they were and village raids are the mainstay in reports filtered in from breathless couriers. They speak of dark, misshapen creatures that stalk the night, of dryads and centaurs that refuse entrance to their forests, and strange shadows that weave through cities lost to the War. Whatever changes are coming, the gods are slow to hear our prayers and their words remain distant and hidden.