There was a time when the gods lived among us. They fought in our wars, ruled our lands, they intermingled with the natives. They lived as mortals, but they were not. They knew no fear, no pain, no sorrow. Their drunken revelry left the mortal races in fear and anger, but they could do nothing against the gods. The few times the mortals did try to revolt, they were quickly and mercilessly slaughtered, made into examples. Deterring any more uprisings. Only through the last Alliance of Men and Elves... Whoops, wrong story. My bad. *Clears throat* And this is the time you find yourself in, gods run amok, people live in fear, and the world is being turned into a wasteland.