Eldrath

In a time lost to memory, when the moon bled red over a dying earth, there lay the broken realm of Eldrath. Humanity, weak in spirit and hungry for power, had shattered into countless warring kingdoms. No longer did true kings rule—only cunning lords, draped in silk and deception, who spoke with honeyed words while plotting murder behind closed doors. In shadowed courts, betrayal spread like a fever, swift and deadly. But it was not only human pride that doomed the land. From beyond the stars, where no light shines, came ancient horrors—creatures not born of flesh, but of fire, shadow, and the deep void. The demons, many in form and endless in hunger, slipped through the wounds in the sky, drawn by mankind’s sins and broken oaths. Often they wore the faces of men, whispering madness into noble ears, bringing cities to ruin from within. Holy places became slaughterhouses. Great towers fell, blackened and defiled by rituals too terrible to name. No law stood unbroken, no soul untainted. For man, in his arrogance, traded away his spirit for fleeting strength—and the world paid the price. War raged without end. Northern warlords sought to conquer the dead lands. Southern barons hoarded gold behind walls built of fear and lies. To the east, the Crimson Theocracy burned all they deemed impure, though their own altars dripped with innocent blood. In the midst of this chaos, mad prophets cried out, speaking of the Black Star that would fall and bring the end of all things. Some ignored their warnings. Others gathered in secret, forging forbidden alliances, hoping to push back the darkness. But the night grew longer, and the courage of men began to fail. For in Eldrath, hope is a story told to children—and salvation lies buried beneath a mountain of betrayal.