Dreams of the Slumbering Gods
You have come a long way traveler. Come, sit down by the fire and warm your bones. There is much to discuss. It has been many long years since the time the world last woke and we are not prepared. This will be a time of great calamity and triumph. The old ways will return and with them the lost powers of the aether. Already the signs are there.
The Dreykarii rise up against their Ivarrian oppressors, convinced that the dragon lords are returning from the west.. The golden army of Galtura has invaded from across the southern sea, bringing war to Eluron and Kaledorn. These clambering zealots are hell bent on fulfilling the will of their emperor that no one has seen for centuries. Yet the combined might of these two great kingdoms cannot oppose them. Perhaps there is some truth to their faith?
The elven republic is no more, making way for a new monarch, the mighty Hylian Trueborn, All Father praise his name. Eluron crumbles around him. His enemies erode his borders like waves crashing against the shore. The crafty Terradelians use trade and honeyed words. The bloodthirsty stone dwarves behead his diplomats, and I won’t speak of the atrocities the scarred elves of Shuronil have committed.
Perhaps the dwarves of Baerkrigg have the right of it? Sealing themselves away in their mountains learning the secrets of smoke and flame and steel that their Iron God imparts to them. Or the Woeden? In five thousand years none have ruled their lands save them. Perhaps theirs is the true god, this Direhelm, greatest of giants.
None know what the future holds; not men, not beasts, not even the gods. We must make our own way. Now tell me traveler, what is your story?