A Dying Ember: Shades of Delusion

An old, bloated sun turns in the sky. Its rays fall upon a world covered in thick, roiling clouds, making them glow a deep crimson with its wearied light. Continuous rain and snow fall from these clouds, like drops of blood from an unhealing wound...

The sky is your enemy, the clouds looked upon warily, and sleep is uneasy. This is the world within which you live. For several centuries the great overhead has been feared. Long ago a star fell screaming. There were no warnings. No prophesies. The gods themselves say nothing of it and many took it to mean they were also surprised and no longer worthy of worship. Since then others have streaked across the sky, sometimes several in a year, others separated by scores of years. No one knows when or where the next will fall, but when it does dreams sour and life palls. Many civilizations have fled from open areas to underground, in the deepwood, wherever they can hide from the vengeful gaze above.
Strangely, much good has come of it, like a fire cleansing the underbrush. As such, while there are a great many who now venerate the sky, others simply think it is punishment from the deities. Trade still exists, and fields are sewn, but merchants and farmers are often greatly revered as men of uncommon fiber. A small minority think them men of great vanity, strutting beneath the open sky without proper reverence. Wars are rarely fought as it would mean taking great resources from the safety of the covered cities into view. The common consensus is why war on another when all could be destroyed with but a thought from above.

The main outbreaks of violence come of those from the open moving in on the land of the hidden. Fey creatures have begun to retaliate as mortals push deeper into forbidden sylvan depths. As well, Priests of Ruin are known to mete out punishment to those who venture into the open. They perform raids as warnings or sew complete devastation as an example to others.

It was twenty six years since the last fall, and many had begun to dare hope it was the last. Then three months ago the peace was broken in the middle of the night. A great fireball fell along the coast, destroying the home of the Seven Sages, seers and watchmen for the world. Since this star fell, thousands across the distances have fallen into a sleep so deep that none reawaken. They continuously thrash and scream, as if held in the throes of a nightmare from which they cannot awake. Many have died, while the more hardy can only be nursed as they wither away. Many have begun to change in uncanny and inexplicable ways.

The cult of Ruin has grown bold, attacking even in broad daylight, and fields and villages burn through the land. Many have fought back, however, in particular the roaming merchant city called the Bazaar, or Banzar. Though they have been burnt, kidnapped and murdered, they still move beneath the open sky, trading with the farms turned forts and taking in refugees. They have settled, for one day only, to host a festival and wake for both the living and the dead. A celebration of those who have defied Ruin. A gesture to oppressors that there are still those who will walk where they wish.

These are the events that currently define your life.

I have been running this campaign for nearly a year, but am looking to bring in some new blood. This is an edited version of this original thread here that I am reusing.

Character Creation
  • The DM
    Who is the Silkspinner? I'm known by a number of names in the gaming community. You may know me as The Vorpal Tribble from the Wizards of the Coast or Giant in the Playground forums.
  • The Players
    Who are you? I hope you're someone ready to be part of an in depth story and add your own chapter. Someone who loves RP and solving mysteries as much as hack and slash. There are many surprises to be had here, not the least of which is the entire world, and even most encounters, are not to be found in any Monster Manual or Handbook. Not all battles may be solved with might of sword or spell, so make a character for the enjoyment of their play, not their strength and power.