The Age of Heroes
The sun rises on a new world- a world not like that you may know. Shattered by a catastrophic impact not long after the extinction of the dinosaurs, Earth is not as it should be. This impact, a star falling to earth, changed not only the shape of the world, but also her content; this star bore strange light and eldritch crystals, warping and altering the planet where humanity slowly arose. Continents were broken, minds shattered, even animals and plants twisted and changed. It is a different world, one in many ways hostile to humanity.
But in the end, it is your world.
You stand forward as one of the leaders of a great city of men. It has been many centuries now since the first tribes emerged in the impact of the Cataclysm, family groups formed from scattered wanderers and survivors, and now civilization in earnest is rising from those embers. Men ply trade upon the waves of the sea, either propelled by oars and scarred backs, or the might of sails. Caravans roam savage lands, making fortunes for their owners if they are not devoured by ferocious beasts. The first priests, and god-kings, and republics lay claim to the passages of the world beyond the sight of their doorways, and bronze-armed warriors march across the hinterland. Men declaim poetry, and gaze at the stars, wielding magicks both powerful and dangerous.
To be a leader in such times is to be given glorious potential, but also enormous responsibility. Civilization is fragile, and dark things lurk both in the hearts of men and in the wilds of the world. Will you rise to greatness alongside your kinsmen, or will you falter and be forgotten? Come, and tell the tale of the Age of Heroes.
The sun rises over many kindreds, sons of prominent sires who have banded together for mutual defense and from bonds of bloodied fellowship. As it begins its journey up out of the west, the first kindred the sun gazes upon are the Xcotl. Thirs is a war-like folks, steeped in equal parts martial ethos and blood-seaked mysticism. From their island home in the marshes of the distant west, their ways are strange to many. Wild plums make sweet their days, however - and the hoot and roar of their brazen bulls is said to lend the air a particular quality. Both to the the west and to the south of the Xcotl's marshes, the land rises - at least in part - into dry, flat plains where endless grasses weave in the gentle breeze. In the north, similar plains give way to rolling foothills which rise steeply into the peaks of a vast, brooding mountain range - a sight almost as impressive as the gleaming coastlands and wide ocean to the east.
The next kindred the Sky-Rider comes upon are the Alikos. They are the guardians of Godhome – keepers of the mountain path that leads to Akroas’ sacred peak – and they are justly proud for it. Their city, perhaps, reflects this – raised as it is astride the gods’ own river. By its banks their generations have prospered – and learned well to appreciate the gleaming opals that fleck its stream. Veins of iron, fat and deep, cross the nearby foothills, and skittish flocks of red deer graze sparingly in the shade of tall, majestic cedar trees. Life, for now, is kind – as will it ever be. Surely. North of Alikos, the land rises steeply into the mist-shroaded cargs of the Godhome. West, where the sun rises, flat fields roll gently into sun-scorched steppes - while East, the foothills of yet more mountains line the horizon, dark and forboding. Soutwards, the gods' own river widens into flat, green plains.
Next the sun's rays bring dawn to the Tachi-na-Vao. On the hilly banks of the Blood of Ishizuki, these stony-faced kindred have made their homes. They share these environs with the great, shaggy herds of Lac-horses - companions animals and erstwhile beasts of burden. Yet they are not alone. Sullen herds of longhorned cattle can also be found grazing in Ishizuki's shallows. They are particularly fond of psarmelons, rich and plump, groves of which dot the landscape. Farther inland, fizzures in the foothills reveal deposits of a strange, grayish ore with the tone and color of a rainy afternoon. North of Nha Tachi, the Congvao mountains rise - tall and majestic. Their foothills can be seen stretching for some distance into the east also, where they give way to grassy flatlands. Southwards, the Blood of Ishizuki widens into a grassy plains and rolling, wind-swept steppes - while to the west, similar flatlands rise once more into the wooded foothills of the Congvao. Tall and mighty.
Soon after, dawn comes to the homes of the Hue. In a dell by a vast and muddy river, these refugees from a distant calamity have set their stakes, for better or worse – and they have thrived. Deposits of copper dot the landscape here, and plinths of granite too; a fact of no little note for enterprising souls. Odd stands of majestic cedars likewise make an appearance. At night, these trees resound with the buzzing insect-chitter of great, moon-pale creatures that wing their way across star-lit skies – said to emerge from hollows in the earth. What can rumors make of such a people? Said to cavort with bats, sing to cedar-trees and blame both good fortune and ill luck on the whimsy of mighty 'demons'? Much and more, probably. But regardless, the Hue are as they are - and no man should discount them.
The sun's life-giving rays next touch upon the Aederfolk. Led by the scions of the House of Gwyr, these braves have made their home on the shores of the Bay of Dagonach. The coastal plains that surround them are home to many wonders – including errant herds of great, gray oliphaunts. Stands of swarthy stone as black as night dot the landscape here and there – and along the shore, pools of sweetkelp prove the truth of its name. Farther inland, fields of wild sugarcane hold some interest also. North of the Aederfolk’s city, the coastal plains give way to rolling hills. Westwards, fertile grasslands stretch on into the horizon – while to the east, the coastal floodplain is crisscrossed by a long gleaming river. To the south, along the coast, coniferous woods grow surprisingly thick – a welcome barrier to the wind blowing in from the sea.
Dawn next arrives on the hillsides of the Bari. From the promotories of their highland sanctuary, these kindred are old in both honor and pride - and justly so, for they have survived many trials and tribulations to reach this far. Flocks of sheep graze here - bleating impertinently admist the rolling hillocks - and deposits of native copper are well in evidence for those with eyes to see. Stands of olives - tart and black - and patches of wild wheat the color of sunlight ensure that none go hungry. As far as geography is concerned, the abodes of the Bari hold a vast, forboding mountain range to their south and west, while to the east a vast, green woodland stretches on beyond even the most distant horizon. Northwards, these same woods give way to flatter, breezier fields and savannahs. What wonders - and horrors - the lands beyond them hold remains to be seen.
The sun next rises upon the Nirat. Between the twin rivers of the Great Mother and the Tap, their fertile garden-city thrives. A vital link in a once vibrant kingdom, these upstart heirs to fallen Kheterata are ruled by a self-styled Vizier. Fed by fecund mud from the rising of its two mighty rivers, it should surprise no one that life and greenery is plentiful. Stands of ropegrass wave in the wind here, neck to neck with patches of wheat – wild and golden. These are turbulent times for the people of Nirat. The realm of which they once were a vital link is shattered - yet wise men and clever crones all speak of a reforging. Or at least war, or rumours of war. Wether Nirat, wild and fecund, shall come out on top in all this, remains to be seen. Her sister-cities are, after all, as keen to wear a Khetarch's crown as she is - and that honor is not one they are likely to share.
The Ravarii are the next kindred the sun alights upon. Flavored in equal part by the hills of their homeland and the favor of their merciful gods, the Ravarii are accomplished seal-hunters and prudent homemakers in equal measure. Theirs is a fine city, Ravar, nestled by the banks of the River of Rest. Copses of pale-pink cherry trees are in evidence here; and great flocks of tawny-faced river-seals converge each spring beyond the shallows. Veins of copper make likewise an appearance, in between tall stands of rock as pale as mother’s milk. North of Ravar, great mountains loom into the skyline – and to the east and south the River of Rest winds onwards through a land flat and grassy until it empties into the great, blue sea. West, beyond the river’s banks, great, green woodlands spread beyond the ken of mortal men.
By the time noon rolls around, the sun shines upon yet another kindred - the Valdani. By the roar of the River of Kings, that mightiest of streams, stands their home, Valda. With their nomadic past behind them, these now-settled kindreds have made the homes of their foes their own – and are better for it. Veins of iron glisten in the nearby foothills; and stands of pale-yellow sand-spuds too. Good for eating they are, despite their appearance – especially when roasted by an open fire. The local goats are especially fond of them, and the old staple crop of fallen Suzer too – wheat. Coarse and oaty, waving in the breeze. North of Valda, the foothills of the Star Mountains vie with rolling plains - flat and fecund, while to the east stretches the many leagues of the Dreaming Wood - green and ancient. South, as the river flows - and eastwards also - woodlands and hilly crags give way to yet more plains.
Lastly, the sun shines upon the lands of the Huang. Sprawled across the Yu river valley like a great, indolent cat, the Huang are masters of everything the light touches. Theirs is a happy and diligent kindred – and they rule with pride from the bastion of their people – the tribal capital of the Hao. Up and down the lush banks of their mother river, patches of wild rice fill many bellies – and in several of her lesser tributaries, pale, gleaming tin – soft and pliable – gleam invitingly. Farther inland, humble stands of medicinal herbs vie for space with croppings of pale, precious rock-salt. North of the Hao, their river turns west as the lands rises into tall, pine-studded mountains, while to the east, plains and mountains vie for supremacy with a distant, gleaming coastline. Westwards, a tributary of their mighty river rolls on, wide and muddy, into a sea of grassy plains as far as the eye can see - a view mirrored likewise to the distant south.
And so the sun sets, and then rises anew, a fresh day of the Age of Heroes.
