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Messages - cabbagesquirrel

#1
so im rewriting AGAIN my history, after talking with my players, many will not be venturing far from human territory, ie none want to be dwarves etc, not that that doesnt mean theres no place for them in my campaign realm but that it makes things easier culture and ethnicity wise.
#2
cleaned up my map a tad with a sharpen feature. here it is.

#3
cool, a mate of mine is a super gemmel fan, ill beat him up for his books.

Splitting my lands into cultures, the southern states have a distinctive greek/republican rome feel, warring states, with independant trade cities etc, mixed with a heavy dash of earth sea type feel.

the north with the tiefling empire will be a mix of ancient china and russia, very old school and arrogant somewhat but full of flavour.

the east island of breggani will be japanese in nature, with a more liberal mix of ancient subcontinant pantheistic mandala and sacred river type stuff.

the west is destinctly middle eastern with a touch of byzantine and african more so nearer to the desert countries of nethis etc.

main ajur proper, will be egyption meets north african morocco islam style stuff.

north will also have barbarian tribes etc, offshoots and outcasts etc. in the south there will also be barbarians as its not the tropical south its more temperate.

so im trying to keep with a mix of cultures but centreing on european and chinese as these are the two i understand the most about, granted due to cross polonisation of people and cultures there will invariably be a generic style mix, which im kind of ripping off the studio ghibli earth sea movie but cutting down the technology a tad.
#4
does anyone know of a book of fluff for iron age fantasy kind of deal, less conan the barbarian though please, theres a time and a place for scantily clad muscle bound guys, and that is tonight in my bedroom  :)
#5
This is a short story that takes place in Ajur, my campaign setting that is currently being fleshed out in the Homebrew forum if you want to take a look. Any constructive criticism please feel free.

Ensu awoke with a start, the rumbling cracking sound that permeated his odd and sometimes down right weird dreams echoed through his hazy waking mind, indeed his very room seemed to vibrate and rock with the booming sound within his ears. The acrid flair of oily smoke penetrated Ensu's nostrils through a loosely curtained off window, the sea salt sprayed summer breeze that was the norm now a sickly metallic stench that stuck to the throat.

Leaping naked from his ramshackle bed, a down stuffed mattress that had seen better days coupled with a loose collection of woven sheets and the half dead carcass of what could have been once called a pillow; Ensu wrenched aside his lack luster curtain to spy the scene of destruction that awaited him.

Bjarma, second greatest city of the Circle Sea and capital of Khazar was aflame, or rather a small select portion of this great monument to civilization was. Down towards the bustling dockyards, smoke and flame poured up in great serpentine gouts that lashed the sky. Ensu could hear the screams of the panicked populous, fire was a problem for the entire city, should these tongues of fire leap from building to building, spitting out spark laced curses as they roared it could lead to utter devastation.
He would have to help these common folk, lest he be blamed for the raucous for being a foreigner.

Ensu collected himself in a mere moment, aware of his rather exposed state; he blushed and quickly covered his shame before shielding himself with the dilapidated curtain. Spying his semi fitting, knee high blood red robes of his order, coarsely woven black dyed slacks and itchy beige underpants, he quickly dressed. Patting down the lint that had collected during the night Ensu scanned his meager accommodations for the tools of his trade.

Gathering up several slender and small staves of wood that lay upon the floor, each scrimshawed with a litany of symbols, Ensu tucked these under his makeshift cord belt before slipping his robust leather sandals on and making for the door.
As a near afterthought Ensu snatched up the large gnarled staff currently employed as a cloak rack before leaving his abode. The staff was worn through constant exposure to the elements, both natural and magical in nature, yet it had served Ensu well.
For Ensu Juskin Nessik, second son to Lord Exarch, Minous Nessik, Praetor to the Emperor of Khern, was a wizard.

A damn good wizard, even if it was only Ensu that said so. Which he did, to anyone who would listen, mostly wide eyed, snot nosed children.

His sandals slap slapping against the large square set stones of Bjarma' wide cart laden trade streets, Ensu flew helter-skelter towards the billowing blaze that had now fully engulfed a warehouse filled with gods know what.

A witness would later remark on the peculiar nature of Ensu as he passed by, his short wizardly robes flapping behind him, his britches a blur of commotion as he blurred down the sloping byways towards the shore. Perhaps the witness would also note the spiel of curse words he spouted when moving at such break neck speed, some of which even a seasoned sailor would find abhorrent.

Ensu's short cropped raven black hair fluttered over his sweating forehead, sticking occasionally and annoyingly with the gluey perspiration upon his brow, before he skidded ungracefully to a halt. A team of dock workers had set up throwing urns filled with sea water over the blaze, but it was like spitting into the roaring furnace of a blacksmith's forge, unproductive and inevitably pointless. Evidently many of the urns had been used to store oil at some time in the past, their rainbow slicked contents only adding strength to the blaze.

In the true fashion of cities everywhere, such commotion had gathered a throng of watchers, an audience of those with nothing better to do than stand and gawp. 'A crowd of no good fly catchers' Ensu stated as he passed the wide mouthed onlookers, probably have three teeth between all of them the wizard sighed as he followed several urn bearers down to a pier on the northern shore of the Circle Sea.
Selecting a fine, willowy and slightly green wooden wand from his makeshift belt and dropping his staff to the clay red stone pier, Ensu began focusing his thoughts and shaping the spark of arcane essence that dwelled within his psyche. Seeing the mystical algorithms scroll impossibly across his minds eye until they reached their final conclusion, Ensu rocked on the balls of his feet and uttered a single word of ancient power.

Twisting sharply with his wand hand, pointing the slender whittled branch to the fire and emphasizing the motion with his other hand, fist clenched white. Ensu literally ripped a giant sphere of water, sea foam, sand and all, from the nearby slip slopping shore and sailed it like a crazed captain bent on flying over a waterfall. A blue-silver nimbus glowing between his hands, Ensu willed the globe over his head, through the air, and for it to slam headlong into the now raging inferno that had left little but the blackened skeleton of the dockside warehouse intact.

Great gouts of steam poured from the remains, obscuring the view of the crowd of onlookers in great breeze wisped swaths. Ensu lowered his arms; suddenly aware of the awkward pose he had stuck, and became rather self conscious. Adjusting his robes, dusting off some strewn cinders and ash and scooping up his staff he made to leave before having to deal with annoying people and their even more irritating questions. Ensu was mildly exhausted from his heavy use of arcane power, and spotting a nearby alleyway he made to sneak off, however a great cracking, snapping sound could be heard coming from the jagged black remains of the warehouse.

Ensu spun on his heels and eyed the popping cooling remains of the ruined warehouse curiously. Within the middle of what was once its great wood and stone structure, the calcified remains of buttresses and plinths could be seen rising and falling, their still ample weight bending and breaking under the strength of whatever was pushing up from below.
Muttering a quick protective incantation, Ensu's mind conjured a ward about his person, as a wizard he knew it always paid to be prepared, because what you don't know can kill you, sometimes bloodily and loudly.

A pale and slender feminine forearm punch-thrust its way out through the rubble, the remains of a large wooden frame were cast aside like a child's toy. The crowd sauntered back several long paces, evidently still curious, just not stupid.

Closely following the arm, a head rose from the ruins, laced in a thick veneer of jet black glossy hair, still smoking with steam and topped with two pale grey-blue horns above a twin pair of white hot glowing eyes and a sharp canine tooth filled, shapely mouth.
Ensu starred aghast at this recent development, the shapely creature emerging from the tinkling destroyed warehouse edifice was eerily familiar, if a little ash stained currently. When a serpentine tail slunk up from the remains, coiling about the newcomers back, images conjured up from long ago in Ensu's twenty five year past, that tail, those horns, that razor toothed saucy smirk.

Ensu edged closer, his sandals slipping over wet slick ashes, half whispering, half rasping he moved towards the devilish female, 'Helani?'

Those two star fire fueled eyes turned upon the wizard, searing his thoughts still within his mind, something was wrong, and when she leapt catlike from the ruins, claws raised towards him, Ensu knew in that split moment in time, that he had made a dire mistake'¦


#6
With arcane orders there will be the more accepted that are like universities or collages for the rich to send their second sons or daughters to for formal education etc, their first born having to take over the family business kind of deal, however i presume some will run off and shirk their responsibilities.

Others, especially the northern realms dealing with the encroachment of the Jadari, will have war wizard units dedicated to defending their king and country, so there will be formalised magic users within the military, often acting in the role of long range bombardment and being learned people often used as a tactical hard hitting unit.

There will also be of course out of the way organisations of wizards, cloistered off sects of individuals within a city state that steer governments towards their own power driven aims, some of the more acceptable universities members will be among these orders, so lots of inter order intrigue.

Outside of large civilisations hermit wizards use a master and apprentice relationship to teach talented individuals the ways of the arcane, mainly to stop these new kids on the block from causing uncontrolled magical chaos.


Mystical beasts such as a griffon etc are bred to suit roles in society such as transport etc. but i will be limiting magical beasts somewhat, they are uncommon compared to normal animals.

migrating savage orc tribes would be cool, perhaps an offshoot of humans who fled their dragon overseers and delved underground etc, so they wont be super ugly pig head guys more so like the half orcs from paizo's pathfinder.

also, shrinking Ajur a bit, bit to big to travel by cart hehe.
#7
yeah i want civilisations to be points of star light in a dark blanket of night, leaving civilisation is a big step, even for adventurers who will soon discover themselves to be on their own in the middle of the wilderness. granted there will be tamed magical beasts and so on to aide travel but magic assisted travel is extremley rare, as is divination communication, i mean there was only a single decent oracle in the whole of greece way back when.

so magic will be associated with the learned elite, something that mystic men and women, cloistered off dabble with, nothing that need concern the little folk.
#8
Yeah Iron Age seems appropriate for the setting, travel is hard, life is tough, magic is the domain of rare individuals and beasts etc.

It's a world scale map so main Ajur is the same size as say both american continants but horizontally, jadari empire would be the same size as russia. so breggani is australia size, maybe a little less.

I don't know where to include orcs etc in my campaign, i have fey, undead, magical beasts, basic animals etc set, but my races seem to be enough with fighting each other, granted i have the fomorian giants and drow for badies as well as planar entities and beings from outside reality. but yeah no orcs or goblins or bug bears yet.
#9
So I've decided to tone back the technology and culture somewhat to approximatly 500 BC to 500 AD our time, so I'm thinking late greek civilisation to the end of the roman empire kind of technology etc.

there will be the great empires with babylonian ziggurats, canals etc, and in the more temperate to northern climates ill go into some gaul and visigoth style peoples, however i may splash into ancient china for some of these as well as a difference of flavour.
Due to the intermix of species of the most part I will be using culture as defined by geography moreso than race. We will see how it works out.
#10
scrapping a lot and rebuilding. but the ideas posed so far have helped me a lot, so keep them coming.
#12
Yeah Tiberia exists, but I chose it because it SOUNDS COOL!

To me a caste system often works in roleplay, whether loose or wholey enforced by the society many cultures have a caste system, even western culture has the haves and have nots, often caste is based on ethnicity, prejudice and the access to wealth, so perhaps a full blown caste system can be toned down to suit. in the idea of the dragonborn i feel that a theocracy is what they need, with a strict heirachy of those in the know with the gods and those who are the flock.

So no doubt each of my races will have a lot of deviation, the dragonborn populate several countries as the dominant but not sole race in Ajur, so there will definitely be some difference, again im only spit balling at the moment, although i have crafted some ideas and have been putting them to paper.

When choosing a culture im trying to keep in mind geography, history and other such areas, people are often influenced by the world around them. definitely something to think about as yes i tend to pigeon hole races into a section that sounds and looks cool, but fundementally is not realistic, well for a given amount of real in a dnd campaign.

psychoticbarber, the map i drew and coloured in with the mountains etc. i used my house mates scanner to create a digital copy. loaded it up into corell painter 9, my paint program, then getting the main colours right i simply sprayed over the areas i wanted desert a yellow brown, forests a dark green, plains a lighter green, tundra an ice blue etc. then i used the fire fx effect, some stippling, tinting and all manner of extra stuff after redefining the mountains etc on my map, and it came out as is. the names i did in simple microsoft paint once the map was completed.
#13
dragonborn are basically a level 1 starting half dragon from 3rd edition, so no level adjustment crap anymore. they look pretty cool, granted the females have chests that lara croft would be envious of, but in a community of nerds what do you expect haha.

i may end up trying to combine to much in the dragonborn culture i must admit, mostly i shall steal ideas from babylonian and ancient india, keep it simpler, perhaps egyption gnomes...hmmm *strokes imaginary beard*

with the tieflings i want a strict society thats about to implode if the underground revolutionaries have anything to say about it, the people are upset with their lot, slaves and free slaves are all mixed up in the political quagmire, and territorial disputes with the Jadari satellite principalities is coming to the fore, so either theyll go bust or the government will crack down and kill the ring leaders. hmm maybe the PC's are the ring leaders, oh i like that.

hehe cheers for the map compliment, i drew it on paper first, with the colours, scanned it into my comp, then crel painter 9 and graphics tablet attacked it for a natural 20 haha. i think it turned out pretty spiffy.

im currently working on a little back story history for the northern nations, as this is where my campaign will start, Thold for example is mostly heather strewn grasslands over chalk soil, hardy types who fend off teifling Jadari empire encroachment as well as the elements are what populate the area, with tieflings who have shunned the Jadari way of life, or are simply spies acting as innocents. Thold is a land of superstition and very anti un sanctioned magic, i mean they live on the doorstep of a nation who used magic to convert and control its whole population! Thold is sort of rasheman meets the wee free men by terry pratchetts chalk hills with tiffany aching. and with my feywild influence, well who knows, the nac mac feegle or something along those lines might make it in.
#14
I took the basic races from the 4th edition book as this is currently what I have to work with, granted I am a gnome lover and will most likely incorporate these into the world as well. So things may change when i get a set of the core three books.

With the Dragonfolk, i'm thinking ziggurats, sort of babylonian but more technologically advanced, strict caste system ala ancient india, but the clergy are on top with some sort of intermediary to the gods as the leader, whether or not he hears the gods, is another thing entirely. ziggurats because its all about getting as close to 'heaven' as you can to get the best divine reception.

Humans are kind of going to be a filler race, between the other races, so their culture will be centred around those nearest to them, not to say they dont have unique cultures according to their region, climate etc, but my 'elder races' will be dwarves and dragonkind, meaning humans may have ripped a bit of civilisation off them. elves are a transplant race from the feywild so they bring their own culture to bear and halflings have kept to themselves for the most part, Tieflings are a problem, they will be a mix of their old human culture pre Tiefling, and the new culture influenced by their infernal heritage.



#15
History.

Ajur is a balancing point in the cosmos, a realm under the scheming eyes of both Gods and Primordials. Ajur is the middle ground between the swirling Elemental Chaos and the deceptively placid Astral Sea. Both Gods and Primordials are prohibited from direct intervention upon the realm, an all powerful barrier was erected by a near omnipotent nameless creator spirit during the first and last great planar war. This war on Ajur splintered and fractured the plane into three askew realms, Ajur Materia, the Feywild and the Shadowfell.

Ajur was formed under the dual wills of a duo of creator spirits from both the essence of the Astral Sea and the primordial ingredients of the Elemental Chaos, each converging and mixing, undulating and folding upon it until a blazing blast of energy conjured an infant universe, steadily growing as it fed from its parent planes. The nameless creator spirits, using much of their own personal energy in the birth of this new reality, coiled in on themselves and began an eon slumber of recuperation within the churning cosmic forge at the centre of this new Ajur Materia.

The gods of the Astral Sea, beings of essence and magic without distinct physical form felt the call of this new cosmic realm and breaching its planar boundary, found themselves upon the still cooling surface of Ajur. Likewise, the Primordials, fluid amorphous beings of great chaotic power, pierced the bridge between the realms, shaking the new earth with their sundering footsteps.

The two groups found Ajur to their liking, its matter and fresh cascading magic easily manipulated by their home planes energies; soon many of these powerful beings were crafting Ajur into images to their liking. Mountains sprang up from barren flat wastes under the efforts of these immortals; waters were also diverted to burrow through the earth, carving out caverns beneath the surface before erupting and wending their way to the still boiling oceans. Ajur was lightless and lifeless however, a twilight realm, but such was to change.

Arguments sprang up, as is their want, between the Gods and Primordials, for each group, indeed each individual had differing opinions on the shape of the world, of where it should be directed in the future, of who indeed, should rule this new '˜playground'.
Fighting broke out, when all negotiations had failed small scuffles at first and then lines were drawn in the proverbial sand. Primordials and Gods prepared for war, and when the first true clash came, the plane itself shook with fear and anticipation.
Both sides suffered casualties, Gods, their divine essence sundered and dispersed, evaporated into both the air and earth. Primordials, their protoplasmic shells sliced open, unleashed their chaotic elemental soup into the seething oceans, jet plumes firing from the water in its wake.

Great magical battles ensued, slicing reality into ribbons; parts of Ajur were simply phased out of their normal space-time and into slightly askew realms, both apart and a part of Ajur proper. Thus the Feywild and Shadowfell were created in this time of strife. Such was the unbinding of the newly formed bubble of existence that pin prick holes were formed allowing the nothing between the planes a glimpse inside, unspeakable entities gathered at such points of light in their darkened and seething realm, a window into the material that consumed them with the lust to possess such a jewel.

The sun was forged during this tumultuous time, the fiery blood of a great Primordial was fused with the dying essence of a God, thus creating a searing incandescent magical fire that was cast up into the sky before it consumed the earth, a seething ball of molten energy endlessly raging, it circles Ajur to this day.

The moon was shaped from the deepest bedrock of Ajur, the primal clay that had never bore witness to such violence and calamity during its early years, its deep stone freshly cooling in the whispering winds of Ajur's sky, was hurled as a titanic projectile by a lordly Primordial at the opposing divine host. The gods used their great powers to redirect this wayward missile into the heavens, the fresh moon eventually coming to a fixed revolution around Ajur, its surface cooling in the chill of space; it now mirrors the glimmering light of the sun, its virgin surface the sole evidence of Ajur's once placid earth.

The creator spirits, their rest unfinished, were awaked from the commotion and desecration of its newest '˜child', their cocoon at the core of Ajur Materia broken with the delving of the moon.

Their wrath was terrible, Primordials and Gods alike fled from the spirits' damning gaze, many were struck down as they ran, their energy and souls drawn to the creator and diffused to heal the scars of Ajur. Wherever this raw mix of soul and animus, of God and Primordial touched, life sprang forth, simple life, mono celled and brainless, but life none the less, with the flicker of a soul. These new proto forms spilled out into both the Feywild and Shadowfell as well, clambering and oozing into all areas of Ajur like the foam upon a storm wracked shore.

The creators, their fury sated at seeing this new and precious event, scattered the Gods and Primordials to their home realms and sealed Ajur within a nigh impenetrable protective barrier.

Their energies again nearly spent, the creator spirits sought their core refuge once more to return to an eon slumber, leaving the fresh forms of life upon Ajur to their own devices.

Evolutionary processes took hold upon Ajur Materia; slowly both natural phenomena and much more sporadically with magical energies, the proto life were shaped into more and more complex forms to suit the newly formed seasons, atmosphere and waters in the wake of the planar war of both heaven and earth. Both sun and moon dancing across the sky, created day and night, both with a small but recovering sentience of their former selves.

The same took place in the echo realms of the Feywild and Shadowfell, suffused with raw energy, the inhabitants of these mirror planes took on forms both fantastic and awe inspiring.

Time scythed out nearly an age before sentience grew to fruition upon Ajur. Reptilian beings freshly hatching from millennia of magical exposure and evolutionary trial and error were the first with the spark of intellect. Great was their might, and furious was their wrath, these living engines of elemental power could both take to the skies and delve deep into the earth with ravaging claws and thick scales. Dragons they came to be known as by the younger races in the coming ages, but for now they called themselves Ajura, meaning 'first of Ajur'. These mighty flying creatures carved out a multitude of empires to suit their territorial nature, for despite this flame of thought brewing in their minds, still they were simple beasts, prone to lust and hunger, violence and greed.

This age of Dragons did not bode well for the other burgeoning forms life of Ajur, smaller and weaker than the great lizards they were at a disadvantage. Ever fearful of the great sweeping shadows of these terrible reptiles, refuge was sought under the eaves of the thick forests, or within the lashing long grass of the open plains. Many Dragons disliked the chilling weather of the harsh north and wind swept south, and so those species with a glimmer of soul, a turning cog or two or cognizance, hid themselves away in such climes, bundling themselves up with the hides of great beasts.

Those who went south with their kin were the ancestors of today's dwarves, collectively known as the Drogoun, they settled amongst the deep canyons and sweeping grasslands of southern Ajur.

In the north, upon the tundra wastes, the Arumani fled their draconic tormenters, taller than the Drogoun, these mortal folk would one day become humanity, in its entire multicultural splendor.

Those who stayed were known as Keytoo, shorter in stature than other races and stealthy by nature, the Keytoo were agile and fleet of foot, able to hide away in a moments notice from their dragon overlords. Eventually the Keytoo found solace in the deep grass plains and marsh lands of Ajur proper, their clan and family structure creating a firm foundation eventually developing into the Halfling race of today.

Of course the races were not wholly unified, each leaving tribes and communities who would not leave their ancestral lands behind, who would not leave both hearth and home despite the tyrant lizards danger. Thus Ajur became seeded with disparate peoples. There were those who would not leave and those who settled down before their great migrations were complete, finding respite in hidden valleys and upon sheltered shores, and those that reached their designated destinations at the north and southern edges of the world.
Several of the peoples who stayed behind were subjugated by their draconic masters as food, slaves and experimental stock. However not all Dragons were evil tormenters; there were those that cared dearly for these little folk, if not simply for amusement rather than any semblance of benevolence.

It was in this era of both enslavement and protection the Dragonborn were crafted from the mixing of Arumani and Ajura blood. Mighty and wise dragons upon the western shores of Ajur proper forged these new beings in secret from their less forgiving kin, who may have seen the sullying of dragon blood as blasphemy.
This new species bred true, becoming a proud race of beings both strong and intelligent. Naming themselves the Akesh, an ancient draconic word for '˜brother' or 'kin-friend', the Dragonborn often saw themselves as a bridging race between dragons and the lesser species, mediators for their masters will and were thus often employed as overseers to quash slave uprising and dissidence in areas of agitation, or wise council in places of learning. Many humans and dwarves, the descendants of their subjugated forebears still harbor ill will to the Dragonborn of the current era for the sins of their fathers, often resulting in drunken scuffles at the local drinking establishment or even blood feuds that go back generations.

Within the Feywild the spark of life had flourished as it had on Ajur Materia. The Eladrin, tall, slender and long lived had sprung up from its magic infused roots like a verdant bloom. Not alone in such a realm, a plethora of fey had spawned in chaotic bursts across the capricious realm, creating somewhat of a savage and wild frontier, where predator and prey constantly danced for supremacy.

The Shadowfell, its energies subtle and seething, did not embrace life wholesale as its brighter kin, instead it called to the souls of all beings, as a place of last refuge, happy in its way to be the gateway to a final rest. The spirits of Ajur found their home in this shadow realm of twilight and aimless time, a place of solace for their thoughts or to brood in bitter dreams and gnash their teeth as they sleep.

Thus ended the first age of creation, the first turning of the great wheel of destiny that set in motion the events of the morrow was drawing near to the end of a revolution. With the setting of one sun however there is always the promise of a new dawn. A new age was already on the horizon, breaking from its shell, one of blood and fire, magic and terror, discovery and lament, pride and peace.

The new age was ushered in with the weakening of many planar boundaries causing shudders across the physical realms. The unfathomable beings of utter madness from outside reality had unceasingly been chipping away at the borderlines of Ajur Materia, from the initial pin prick hole created millennia in the past to now a spider web of indistinct cracks in the shell of the universe. This sent cosmic shudders through mystical fault lines that had been repaired eons ago during the Great War in heaven and earth. The barriers weakened, both the Astral Sea and Elemental Chaos were now linked once more to Ajur, though not as strongly as in ages past. Now both gods and primordials could feel the familiar intangible glow of the plane, vastly changed from when they had been banished from its surface, it was now riddled with the small fragile souls of mortals, the progeny of their vengeful creator. Both gods and primordials, seeing the potential within these frail mortal forms, offered the wisdom and insight of the ages to those with the spirit to listen, sewing the seeds of civilization within the lesser races.

The Feywild and Shadowfell had also felt these shivers of reality. Haphazard portals began to open between the mirror realms and Ajur Materia, allowing beings to traverse between these linked realms. Thus the ancestors of the Elves came to Ajur, a break off splinter cadre of the true Eladrin culture; they migrated from their mystical plane through these fissures of space and time. These whisper light beings called themselves the Luvinal; they were shapers and avengers of the natural world, flighty wraiths amongst the wilds of Ajur, stalking their prey with swift wrath, these Luvinal were capricious in their targets.
Thus the other mortal races, those native of Ajur Materia, soon learned to fear the ancient and savage places of the world, lest the eyes of the fey fall upon them, quickly followed by their arrows.

The years flowed like leaves upon a rushing river, burgeoning civilizations flourished, forming empires and kingdoms, before entropy toppled them asunder, scattering their ashes amongst the survivors. Often these were to be rebuilt anew upon the skeleton of the old, reformed in the forge of progress and the discovery of new technologies.
The whispers of the gods and primordials often guided the fates of mortals to their own ends, causing both calamity and renewal, laying the foundations for these new civilizations, prompting mortals to idolize these ancient beings for their gifts of knowledge.

Playing upon the mortal fear of death and the unknown many gods had temples and shrines erected in their honor with promises of everlasting life at their side should they remain faithful, for the souls of mortals strengthened the gods and primordials hold upon Ajur Materia, thus weakening the planar barrier that barred these awesome beings a firm foothold upon the realm.

The Dragons grew complacent in their role as tyrant of the lesser mortals, and many were toppled or slain by their followers, often at the behest of their deities. Such successes were passed from nation to nation until these great beings of elemental fury and aerial dynamism were scattered and bereft of their once great glory. As the draconic empires fell from dominance the lesser races became the dictators of their own destinies, spreading, mingling and reuniting across the length and breadth of Ajur, ties of kinship were met with either bitter feuding or the firm embrace of reunited friends, setting the political and diplomatic map for decades to come.

The Dragons were scattered to the four winds to lick their wounds, beings of great cunning and power, they were not to be undone so easily, and many still exist within Ajur, brooding or sleeping away the decades, crafting plans of ingenuity and such brilliance it amazes even their pride filled souls. Some gods saw the power of this great race of intelligent beasts and insinuated their will upon the draconic psyche, inspiring these reptiles to greater heights than simple dictatorship. Thus many dragons grew to become scholars and tacticians, marshals of war and shrewd negotiators. With their incredible life spans many dragons grew enamored with the gathering of all aspects of knowledge, becoming accomplished spell crafters and constructing collections of tablets and tomes, scrolls and stone to hoard away against the elements.
Some dragons shunned the whispers of the gods, embracing the raw power of the primordials, reveling in the sheer primal terror of mortals and embracing the magical might gifted to them by their new benefactors, these dragons became the scourge of Ajur, and at the behest of their primordial masters, these draconic brutes cut great swathes of carnage into the new legions of god faithful mortals.

New vibrant nations often sprang from the old, melting pots of different races and cultures crafting states of unity and power. Often dragonborn, humans and dwarves collaborated in many areas to fuel the fires of civilization and magic, elsewhere they fell into racial and ethnic tensions, splintering into factions where blood was thicker than the waters of tolerance and friendship, often resulting in the breakdown of diplomatic ties and in some cases leading to full scale conflict.

Arcane magic was codified and ritualized during this age of discovery; orders of learned mortals were forged, in secret or as part of a nations overarching society, some to protect and serve, others to hoard research and uncover hidden knowledge and some to usurp and garner the power to rule those deemed lesser beings. Over time magic became the providence of the learned and influential, those with the spark of talent were found young and taken to be tutored in the art of becoming full fledged wizards, lest their talents be wasted or misused. Soon the arcane had insinuated itself into the fabric of many nations cultures, used as a tool like any other, it became something to be respected as any other skilled trade, for only a few select individuals had the knowledge to employ magic, thus being a limited and rare commodity, as those touched with the ability to weave magic were few and diverse, it was treasured.

The Jadari nations of the northern tundra, descendants of those that forsook all others to escape the dragons and their reign were a people who embraced magic in both maniacal and incredible ways. In a diabolic ritual that wracked the skies and extinguished the aurora lights that dance across the north skies of Ajur, Jadari high mystics called down unholy being to grant their people power. Wholly evil entities of the astral sea answered their call, apostles of the arch devil himself, these denizens struck a bargain with the leaders of the Jadari, granted a great boon in return for the souls of thousands of slaves. The pact sealed in a ritual of sacrifice and the bloodied gurgles of victims drowning in their own blood, the Jadari soon realized the price paid to the devils of the nine hells was higher than they had foresaw. The Jadari were gifted with power, but such power wracked and misshaped their human forms, horns grew from their brow in a mockery of a halo, their skin thickened and was burnished a stale blood crimson, and tails sprang from the seat of the spines, elongating and curvaceous to a barbed tip.
It was in this way the Tiefling race was given its first breath upon Ajur, the progeny of human arrogance and diabolic sorcery, this new race, united under their pact marked flesh, sought both power and conquest on a world spanning scale.

The years drip dropped into the pool of centuries, kingdoms rose and fell upon the earth, the maggots of their collapsing corpses littering the wilderness like lost children wandering aimlessly, mortal creatures scattering from the carcass and birthing cities anew. The very earth is altered with the whittling scrimshaw of civilization, both above and below ground the tap tapping of progress' hammer guides Ajur ever onwards.

In the latter years of the second age the city empires of old have grown to fruition amongst the leagues of wilderness and savage frontier. Ruins abound from the failures of the past, tombs for both the treasure of the dead and forgotten lore. War has left its scarring mark upon the land, old battles now marked with the rusted and bleached remains of those struck down far from their home soil.

Thus ends the second age of Ajur Materia and the beginning of the new. The third age awoke with the sundering of the sun. The sun' once glorious light diffused across the sky in a great streak of aurora light that cascades incandescently from the east to western horizon, forming a wide ring of magical plasma around the sphere of Ajur, wispy and dancing fluorescently in the shadowy sunset light. It has been a little over a century since the apparent death and scattering of the ashes of the sun, and no sage or wise mystic has managed to uncover the source of this terrible event, even the gods are at odds when consulted by the highest of their faith's initiates.
 
The loss of the sun has caused havoc with the flora and fauna of Ajur, many coping with the light conditions, others dying in droves. Time is now measured in the phases of the moon or with the turning of the stars themselves as the seasons have collapsed into a chaotic mess.

Cities and towns have become points of light in this encompassing shadow, safety is not assured even in the most shining jewels of civilization however, intrigue and corruption are rife.

This is the age of heroes; the land is cast in a perpetual twilight, verging on shadow and darkness in the deeper wilderness and stark deserts. Destiny is ripe for those bold enough to take it; will you be one of those fated few to turn the tide of Ajur?