The D&D campaign I am running at a cross-roads. The party was transported to an alternate dimension that had changed time to speed up, and are now exiting nearly 40 years in the future. I had the party roll some dice to determine what had happened in the meantime, and this is the result.
You may not know me, but I have been watching you all throughout time. Arkaxus the Headstrong, twice defeated but resolute on his path towards vengeance. Grimbold the Provider, who has already given so much but still so willing to give their all. Sanctus the Courageous, always defending the weak from those who abuse their power. Ceasus the Seeker, striving to pry the secrets of the world from the dark places. Aramil the Storm-Born, still grieving over the love he lost. And Jinn, the trickster who runs from his own past.
I have followed the essences of my dead brothers and sisters to this unhallowed place, and I have sensed them within that amulet you bear. Why they have chosen mere mortals to guard their essences I cannot begin to speculate, but my fellow Gods have made their choice and I will abide by it.
But, where are my manners? I have not introduced myself!
Behold, for I am Cyndor the God of Time!
I must be quick, for controlling this plane of existence is draining me of my power. I am sending you back to your own world so that you may resurrect the essences of the Gods that lie within your amulet. The Mockery has finally re-emerged after eons to lay waste to the plans of the Elder ones, and we must reforge the essences of the Gods so that we can oppose The Mockery and his Herald. But be warned, as much has changed since you last were home...
It has been nearly 40 years since the old gods were defeated before the might of The Mockery and the army of devils summoned by his Herald, Artor. The fabric of reality has been torn, with infernal Fiends and otherworldly abominations slipping in through the inter-dimensional cracks and running amok. Travelling the wilds is no longer safe, so that the commoners cower behind feeble walls and meekly pray for salvation.
The sky has been permanently breached, torn asunder by the power of The Mockery. The sun can barely be seen through the ash-darken clouds, and never-ending thunderstorms constantly assail the earth. For some unknown reason the earth itself has become warmer to the touch, hot enough to heat up puddles of water. The new low-light and humid conditions has changed the way plants grow, slowly replacing the familiar forests with thick jungles of ferns, vines, and mosses.
The farmers suffered the worst as traditional farming methods were no longer producing the crops required to feed the population. Animals that could not survive the hot and wet weather died quickly, and starvation gripped the land. It was then that Magic Universities and Academies throughout the land focused their efforts to magically alter the seeds and animals to become suited to the new conditions. The new magically-altered crops averted a crisis, and magi and sorcerers became a highly regarded profession.
The Herald used the food crisis to usurp power, trading magically-altered seeds for absolute rule over towns and provinces. In place of traditional feudal lords and city councils he created the Magocracy, where he gave power to trusted magic-users to rule in his stead. The new rulers were known as Senators, and Artor used them to consolidate his power to rule upon the White Star Throne in Dragonspur City.
The death of the gods and the rise of the Herald hearkened the birth of the White Star religion. This new religion was based around the appearance of The Mockery and his victory over the old gods, and praises Artor as the Herald. The new religion falsely teaches that the old gods, myself and my siblings, were false and that we stole godhood from what they now call the White Star. The White Star, through the Herald, shall now reveal the True Path that the faithful should follow towards redemption. All hogwash, of course, but this new religion has been mandated by the Herald to be the only religion throughout his new Empire.
Under Artor's guidance and through the fervor of his new religion, Kelerak was quickly able to conquer and subjugate neighboring Zeland, Kale, and Daven. Only the militant Orland and their legions were strong and organised enough to repel the fledgling Empire of Kelerak, although they too eventually fell to the zealous teachings of the White Star missionaries. Only the far-flung Kingdom of Farland remains independent, as the ancient King Wolgan the VIII maintains a vice-like grip onto his throne.
As the Empire spread so too did the White Star relgion, and it destroyed any vestiges of the old Pantheon in it's wake. Temples were re-purposed to worship the new and only god. Clerics were mercilessly cut down in public executions by the militant wing of the White Stars, the Justicars. But the old Pantheon still remains stubbornly alive, as the elders secretly still pray alone in dark rooms when the Justicars are not watching.
All surviving members of the old Temple hierarchy fled west towards the castle of the Order, where the half-elf Knight-Captain Dendy Jeri remained faithful to the old ways. The Temple of Kord was by far the strongest contingent remaining, and they formed the backbone of the resistance movement against the Empire. Soon the Order and the remains of the Temples merged together to form the Templars, a holy order with the divine duty to govern over the remaining faithful. All assets of the Castle were gifted to the new Templar Order, and the Castle was renamed Knight's Hall.
Instead of invading the lands of the Templars, Artor instead ordered a wall to be built around them to cut them off from civilization. The wall itself was permanently manned, and a common punishment throughout the Empire was to be banished onto the other side of the wall. As such, the area beyond the wall has been nicknamed "The Wastelands" in the rest of the Empire. Strict border controls were in place at every gate along the wall, and anyone who managed to cross the wall without permission were mercilessly hunted down and executed.
The wall was integrated to be a part of the city of Dessingrove and the towns of Waleron and Deaton, making these places the only points of contact between the Empire and the Wasteland. When the Templars and the Empire cooled their relations, these towns actually thrived as it was the only trading point for the Empire to access goods from the Wasteland, the Elves of the Black Woods and (surprisingly) the Orcs of the Northern Teeth.
Over the years the Templars have become increasingly secular, with many giving up hope that the old gods will return. The Templars have become the defacto government of the Wasteland, and the Pantheon faith now barely influences their decision-making. They have instead become more militant, eschewing the arcane arts in favor of increasing technological might.
As for the races, non-human races now experience the most intense racism within the Empire than at any other point in known history. Tieflings suffer the most as their infernal bloodline link them to the unholy abominations that wander the wilds. Many Tieflings are simply attacked on site in any urban area, forcing Tieflings to hide out in the wilds. Many Tieflings have fled into the Wasteland or far to the East, although some have formed alliances with Fiends and have grown powerful.
Although most Orcs live in the Northern Teeth under Uggoth Kalakzorson, some have chosen to follow Skanut the White and live in the Wasteland. This has created some animosity between the two, as each believe that theirs is the true Orc way. Simmering away in between this animosity waits the Blood Oath Orcs, awaiting their chance to create bloodshed and awaken their foretold Blood God, whoever that may be.
Elves are barely tolerated within the Empire as the Black Wood still do not follow the White Star faith. Half-Elves are treated with contempt and pity by both sides, although they can still find fulfilling lives. Dragonborn also find it hard to maintain their place in society, and are slowly being pushed out by the human-centrist aristocracy. And Dwarves have mostly retreated deep into their mountain retreats, away from the prying eyes of the Magocracy. Only the Halflings and Gnomes are welcomed among the humans.
Curiously, the Herald himself has encouraged the migration of Drow into the capital city of Dragonspur. The migration was paid by the Empire itself on the condition that the Drow convert willingly to the White Star faith and burn the remains of their old faith. The Drow eagerly agreed as their native lands to the east were barren and dry. What the Herald plans for the Drow is unknown, but the ash-clouded skies allow the Drow to frequently roam the surface.
This is the world you will now enter. It has changed drastically, and in 40 years almost everything you have loved and cared for will have died or grown old without you. As a final gift, I will tell you their stories.
Arkaxus, Sila was valiantly rescued from the Blood Oath Orcs by Skanut and the two lived their lives happily together. Sila managed all of her taverns expertly, spreading her business across the Wasteland. While she was happy without you, she did not forget you, and you remained part owner of the taverns in Dessingrove and Deaton. The Tavern in Knight's Hall was forcibly given to the Templars, as well as your smithy.
Your noble family has hit upon hard times, and have been forced to sell their expansive estate to meet rising debts in an increasingly racially charged Dragonspur. Sila was kind enough to give them your profits to keep them afloat, but they constantly squander the money.
Eatfrith was a devout follower of Gruumsh, and when his God fell so did he. The Cult of Gruumsh quickly fell apart at the seams and was irreperably damaged. The once fearsome Goliath roamed the Wasteland as a simple bandit, hunted by both Templar and Empire alike. Eatfrith finally died to your cousin Survasix, who joined the Templars to continue your quest for vengeance.
Grimbold, your love Twengebehriehs had left you alone in your village but as you had found your true calling so did they. Affectionately known as Twigs, they had become teacher of poor urban children so that they may improve their lot in life. In payment all Twigs asked for was food and shelter. Eventually the legend of Grimbold reached Twigs, and they packed up and began a journey to reunite with you. Unfortunately by the time they reached Knight's Hall you had disappeared into this dimension. Undeterred by rumors of your downfall, they established a school for the poor and awaited your return. On their deathbed, still resolute in the fact that you would return to them, they called upon Joco to imbue their spirit into the lectern to await your arrival. They continue to teach the poor up to this very day.
Despite the sweeping changes across the land, the Cult of the Raven and "Him" continue to thrive in the wayward forest off the beaten track. They continue to partake in psychedelic drugs in an attempt to become closer with the Raven Queen, ignorant of the fact that she has now died and lives on within your amulet.
Sanctus, your son Angus has hit upon hard times. He was a hot-headed youth that believed in attacking problems head on, just as his father did before him. When the Empire forcibly took over and began to wipe out the remains of the old Pantheon, he and his friends traveled to Dragonspur and began a campaign of guerrilla warfare and sabotage. He also led all the refugees that he could back to Knight's Hall, and was a leading figure in the Order. But years of fighting tired the Templars, and they eventually sought to make peace with the Empire. One of the conditions was the imprisonment of Angus for the crimes of sabotage. When Angus learned of this, he marched right up to Templar-Captain and turned himself in on the condition that his family remained safe and unharmed. Angus still lives, but languishes in prison beneath the city of Dessingrove.
The slave kid that you had rescued from the orcs took your name in your honor, and fought alongside your son Angus in their campaign against the empire. He was your son's right-hand man, and together they probably saved the remains of the Temple from destruction. Angus' eventual imprisonment has pained Sanctus Freeman, to the point that he has infiltrated Dessingrove and plots to break his friend out of prison.
The Sanctuary, the monk order where you learned to fight, was forcibly conscripted to fight in the Empires war against Orland. Any monk who resisted to maintain strict observance of pacifist doctrine was brutally murdered as an example to the rest. The surviving monks soon found that they were really good at fighting, and became willing shock troops for the Empire.
Jinn, your homeland to the east lies tattered and barren. The changes to the world has adversely affected the underground dwellings the Drow built over centuries, and in-fighting broke out between the clans. Your family was on the loosing end, becoming indentured slaves to more powerful families. Eventually the Drow migrated as a whole to Dragonspur at the request of the Herald in exchange of forsaking their ancient religion. The Drow as a whole agreed, and they burnt their holy books and symbols as they left their cavern cities. Your family ancestors remain as slaves in Dragonspur, serving the whims of their overlords.
Aramil, the your elvish clan's forest lies totally within the Empire and as such experience mild racism from the human aristocracy. Only elvish magic-users are in any way respected. The family of your human lover, in comparison, has thrived as it was discovered they have a rich steak of magic running through their blood. The family quickly rose to power in the Magocracy, but instead use their new-found power to protect their home village. In respect of your relationship with their relative they have taken it upon themselves to protect the forest and your elvish family from the avaricious machinations of the Magocracy.
Ceasus, while you are used to being exiled you should be wary as racism towards Tieflings have grown exponentially in the Empire and in some parts of the Wasteland. This is because of the fear that Tieflings are in league with the Devils and Demons that terrorise them on a daily basis. The wilds are also no longer truly safe, as fierce abominations prey upon the unsuspecting. No place is no longer safe, except that magic-users are highly respected or at least tolerated.
For
Caelan Blade the collapse of the Kingdom meant that he was no longer a wanted man. The Thieves guild was also broken up due to factional infighting, so Caelan was no longer hunted by assassins lurking in the shadows. Unfortunately his Tiefling blood meant that his was no longer welcome in towns or cities. He still had his gold and his ship, and with them he created a little village along the Dark Lake that was a refuge for other Tieflings. He refitted his ship to ferry goods along the river-ways between the Wasteland and the Empire. He is survived by his son Caelan who continues the family business.
Belric was able to grow his pacifist ideology within the Wasteland, and had a devout follower in Skanut. Skanut wanted to reform the world's opinion of orcs, and through Belric had someone else with faith that orcs could change. Together they worked tirelessly to change the Templar's opinion of orcs, bugbears, goblins and kobolds so that these races are considered natural extensions of civilization. The ideology of equality is Belric's lasting legacy to the Wasteland.
Joco was able to secretly study necromancy and other forms of taboo magic to find a solution to his problem. He was also an avid supporter of the arts in Knight's Hall, and formed part of the magical backbone of the Templar order. But despite his efforts, he and his wife Taleadora could not keep up with the magical progress made within the Empire. When Taleadora suddenly died to a Demon attack, Joco decided that staying in Knight's Hall was only holding him back in his quest.
As a respected member of society, no one suspected that it was he that had found his way to
Orvaxis' tomb on the night the spirit disappeared. Orvaxis was depressed that Bahumat had died, and when Joco approached him with his plan Orvaxis was only too ready to agree. Through an ancient arcane ritual the spirit of Orvaxis was merged with the soul of Joco, and this managed to also increase the lifespan of Joco. The three spirits in one body then quietly left Knight's Hall and made their way to Dragonspur.
That is all I can tell you, as now my power is fleeting and I must destroy this plane and the forbidden time magic that is imbued within it. Go now, heroes, and find a way to resurrect the gods so that we can fight the Herald and The Mockery!
