The World
An artifact that was too powerful. A thousand shards. And a gate that still stands open.
An artifact that was too powerful. A thousand shards. And a gate that still stands open.
Dilmun was not a place. It was an artifact, and its power was so great that the Sages of the old worlds decided to destroy it before it could belong to anyone. Master Shamash did it with his own hand and gave his life for it. Dilmun shattered into a thousand shards, and the cosmos swallowed them — scattered, so that they would never find each other again.
That was long ago. What remains are four peoples who survived the fall, and in the rocks of Edin a gate that still stands open.
And then something stirred that everyone thought was finished. Asag — a name hardly anyone still wants to speak. The world of the Enkuri was the first he took, and nobody wrote it down. Since then every civilization still standing has set out: to find the shards, piece Dilmun together a second time and face him with it.
The Kishar supposedly know where Dilmun once stood. The Ashari read the signs the fall left behind. The Nammuri dig up a metal that came from there. And the Enkuri have already lost their world — they are not looking for the shards, they are looking for Asag.
A canyon on a desert planet. Where the ship came down, the survivors built a camp — and in the rock behind it stands a gate older than they are.
A living jungle world: swamps, old groves, overgrown ruins — and somewhere within, a guardian.
Smithing, Alchemy and Survival are not side jobs. Whoever smiths supplies people who don't — and gets something in return they would otherwise have to fight for. A trade where only one side wins doesn't happen.
Smelt ore, tan hides, and forge armor and tools from them.
Steep herbs, set draughts, brew potions and provisions.
Gather wood, make fire, don't freeze in the rain.