The world of Alreal was a land shaped by power and struggle, born from the will of the four Primordial Forces: Life, Magic, Conflict, and Death. These beings had governed the flow of existence since the beginning, their essences shaping the land, seas, and skies. But their influence was never harmonious for long. Each force vied for dominance, creating an eternal cycle of creation and destruction that would define the fate of the mortal world.
From the fertile touch of Life came the first sentient races—humans, beastfolk, elves, and others—each imbued with a spark of creation. From Magic came the threads of energy that bound the universe, the unseen fabric that mortals could grasp and weave to reshape reality. From Conflict came ambition, the drive to conquer and evolve, to rise above others. And from Death came the final truth: the great equalizer that none could escape, reminding the world of its fragile balance.
The Age of Heroes, centuries ago, had been a time of unity forged in desperation. The 13 Heroes, mortals of unmatched strength, courage, and skill, had risen to push back the shadows of the Calamity—a cataclysmic era when monstrous hordes, undead armies, and dragons swept across Alreal, threatening to annihilate all life. Their sacrifices had brought salvation, but peace was fleeting.
Now, Alreal stood fractured. The Northlands, perpetually locked in battle with the undead hordes and creatures of the night, were isolated from the rest of the world. The Ashlands, ravaged by volcanic eruptions and corrupted by demons, remained a desolate wasteland, home to the once-proud but now twisted Black Order. And in Altis, the heart of Alreal, the once-unified kingdoms of the Heroes had splintered into rival city-states, each clinging to its own ambitions.
The golden age of unity was gone. The Age of Adventurers had begun.
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Altis was a land of opportunity and strife, a patchwork of cities and regions, each with its own identity and aspirations. Venizia, the shining port city on Altis's eastern shores, prospered through trade and diplomacy but was ruled by merchants more interested in gold than honor. Sylvalis, the deep forest realm to the south, clung to its traditions, guarding the ancient ruins of the Era of Creation as sacred ground. Its leaders saw outsiders as a threat, closing their borders to all but the most trusted allies.
And then there was Doran, the city of iron and discipline. Built in the open plains of central Altis, it stood as a fortress of strength and ambition. Where other cities sought wealth or wisdom, Doran pursued power. To its leaders, peace was not a right but a prize to be claimed by those strong enough to seize it.