Final Fantasy: The Folds of Fate
History tells stories of grand armies of old. Fearless heroes, wizened sages, peerless nobles and shadowy spies. It spoke of forces in the world at conflict and peace, in ages dark and gold. It spoke of archmages and old gods, the long forgotten conflict of the aesir and daevans, of elves and crusades, of changing ideologies, world shattering events, and, lastly, of revelations.
But history was long ago, and tales have a habit of losing credence as enlightenment takes center stage and the rust of age corrodes their truth, transforming them into stories and spectacles. The world has finally reached a somewhat stable state, for although war is not entirely unheard of, its reach is restricted to mercenary and volunteer forces, no longer relying on the Levy Draft or mechanical aberrations known as the myrmidon. The practices of the discipline of knowing, science have provided and fabricated a much more careful kingdom than the drive of nobles or magic every could, and citizens live in a world stagnant.
But shadows cry in its corners. A recently politically stimulated trading embargo has shut down mono transport between two great cities, Cypress and Utopas, and left the highway between them almost entirely unguarded. Already brigands have emerged from the gridwork to spell terror for any foolish enough to make the journey on foot or wing and the cities governments have resorted to blaming each other. The pristine world below grows wilder by the day, and still harbors beasts above the conquering force of armies, let alone the wallets of the world's leaders. And there are those who say that the old revelations of Zorander have yet to pass, and feel burning eyes on them at all times. Finally, there are those who claim that people are disappearing, snatched away by the night.
History had time for great people, can such talent push back the untimely Folds of Fate?
