From thick forests and vast plains across Khorvaire. fortresses rise up toward the sky. their parapets bristling with weapons. In the middle of wastelands blasted by magic and quenched in blood. the ruins of castles. camps. and entire cities protrude from the earth. In the halls of power. every promise masks a deception. every treaty disguises an ulterior motive, every shadow hides a potential assassin.

It is impossible to overstate The Impact of the Last War on the lives of every inhabitant of Khorvaire. war raged across the continent for a hundred years. turning each nation against virtually every other in a shifting series of alliances. Four years ago, a terrible cataclysm known as the Mourning left a huge swath of central Khorvaire utterly annihillted. (Completely destroying the nation of Cyre) every living thing exterminated and the ground scoured to ash, leaving what is now called the Mournland in it’s place. In the four years since the Day of Mourning, The nations have only just begun to rebuild. Royalty and commoners alike pray that the century¬∑ long conflict was not merely the precursor of a greater horror.

Less than two years have passed since the signing of the Treaty of Throne hold. All living residents of Khorvaire were molded by their experiences during the war. Even those who never experienced direct combat were shaped by the actions they undertook in support. or in defiance of the raging war.

Across Khorvaire. trust is as rare as a soldier without scars. Citizens of border towns see Cyran refugees and turn away. afraid that these displaced wanderers bring with them the doom of their dead nation.

When they see adventurers, warforged, and goblin or dragonborn mercenaries walking the streets, they remember afresh the horrors of war.

wizards of the coast

While a tense and fragile peace prevails, there are organizations that work tirelessly to spin the lands of Khorvaire back into the endless war. Reasons and rationales are numerous and methods drastic and varied. One such group known as The Brotherhood of the Cleansing has been particularly volatile and violent as of late.

The Brotherhood, becoming active soon after the day of mourning has targeted arcane institutions and those blessed with arcane abilities. Their methods become more direct and violent in the recent past, even resulting in stories of magic users, sorcerers and artificers being burned at the stake, hung from bridges, flung from towers into crowded plazas and worse.

Ambitions of the cleansing have seemingly grown and the latest volly of attacks have grown in scale no longer targeting individuals, but society as a whole. If the brotherhood cannot personally remove all practitioner of the arcane from society, perhaps through terror and intimidation they can convince society itself to turn it’s back on the arcane.

Spring in sharn, the City of Towers glimmers in the bright morning sun, sounds of the markets in tavick’s landing drift between the deep canyons formed by the innumerable clusters of massive towers that pierce the clouds above and descend beneath the early morning fog from the dagger river that blankets the lower city.

High above is the gleaming floating city known as the skyway, a massive city in and of itself that rests upon silvery magical disks. The skyway is connected to the city of towers by magical elevators and bridges of silver energy that tether the homes and estates of the elite in sharn to the world below. Many often marvel at the spectacle that hovers with such ease over Sharn, dumbstruck at the power of the magic that makes a city like Sharn possible. Especially early in the morning when the sun reflects on the golden tower top high in the sky making them appear as torches in the bright blue sky.

A thunderous boom sends residents of sharn careening from their beds looking for cover or grabbing for their swords. moments later a terrible sound like a thousand ancient trees falling in unison to the forest floor grows to a deafening crescendo followed by more numerous small explosions, then a silence move deafening then the ear splitting chaotic roar from just moments before. The silence continues for what seems like an eternity as the world itself seems afraid to take a breath. Then from the farthest corners of Sharn, a spine tingling wail of pain and anguish, faint at first, but then growing exponentially immediately fills everyone’s ears. It is the sound of men, women, and children, screaming in fear, pain, sorrow and anger at what their eyes see but their minds cannot believe.

Anyone mustering the courage to look out their window, and up toward the sky sees at first only a massive plume of dust and smoke rising up from the center of the central plateau. Through the massive grey and black plume juts the tops of many towers leaning precariously as if dropped from the sky on their sides. Above the central plateau where the skyway floats, there is now a smoking burning disk at one end, a large gaping hole in the side of one tower revels the horrific truth. A portion of the skyway has been blown into the city below, and now both burn… As the onlookers stare skyward their faces covered in the blanket of ash and dust, the magical sirens wail and the sound of heavy booted feet of soldiers drown out the frenzied wails…Gates are closed, and districts are immediately shut down as dozens of royal griffon riders take to the air patrolling overhead looking for the culprits of this attack.

fractured peace

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