Sizniche
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Tl;dr magic relic guilds fight to decide how magic relics are used
In a bygone age, forgotten to history, great ancients roamed the land. They were not of mortal flesh such as you or I; these men of a distant age were men who bore the blood of deities. With a snap of their fingers, a great mountain could rise. With but a mere thought, an ocean could open. Every step they took seeped force of life into the ground, leaving the beginnings of life in their wake. These men were not few in number; it is believed that hundreds, if not thousands inhabit the world we now call Brymmydia. With civilizations of their own, born of magic, deep spirituality, and immortal wisdom, they shaped the land as we know it to create a world where life can bloom and perpetuate. In their time, their power must have seemed limitless to them, but time would soon prove that assumption to be wrong.
It began with a subtle, hard to describe feeling; they were no less powerful, but felt that something was off, as if they didn't feel as energetic as they once were. Then, the world seemed to dull out of once vibrant colors and alienlike, psychedelic plantlife to a more practical landscape of green and brown, losing a touch of magic it had before. Beyond that, it wasn't long until one of the demigodkind died, his lifeforce drained from a long life, spanning several millennia. The ancient men panicked. Death was a concept they couldn't comprehend. After all, how could they; how could you understand something sentient coming to an end if it had never happened before? A hysteria insued; all of demigodkind shifted from relaxation to desperation to save and store and much magical energy and lifeforce in as many things as possible, so that they might draw from them to maintain their lifestyle, only worsening the process by concentrating lifeforce away from themselves. In the end, all of the underdeities died, undone by their desperation to continue on by any means necessary.
But with their death came an opportunity for a new era, leaving space for new a civilization led by the mortal men they left behind. On the land that gave home to tribes built on spiritual energy and community rose kingdoms of wood and stone. Kings, queens, princes, and princesses came and went, but civilization went on. The world had shifted from a place formed of magic to a place formed of the hands of man, and no longer was a man capable of more that what his own mortal body or the bodies of anyone he could rally could achieve. Great works were not accomplished by simple whims or desires, but through long, careful planning, and decades of effort. Life carried on like this for centuries.
However, the world was flipped on its head on one early morning. A humble farmer, turning the soil for a harvest on new land, struck a simple ring of copper with the metal end of his hoe. Thinking he could get a decent price at market for it, he slipped the ring on his thumb, due to its size, and continued to till the land. By the end of it, however, he felt as if he had barely moved a muscle at all. He found he needed not food or drink, saving his share for his family, and he continued to work unharmed. It didn't take long for someone to take notice, and a brief discussion of the farmer made it easy to determine the ring had some sort of power of supernatural origins. A relic of the creators had been found.
Once the existence of relics became public knowledge, the search was on. It didn't take long for hundreds upon hundreds of relics to be found, ranging greatly in form, power, and purpose. Some were benign, such as a bracelet that always let you instinctively know what direction north was; many were capable of spectacular yet typical feats, such as rings allowing you to shoot lightning from the tips of your fingers or gloves that could cure the wounded; a select few gave power unthinkable, such as reviving the dead, strength that could destroy cities, or the ever-coveted immortality. Legend has it that relics of even greater power still wait to be found.
With new magical relics being turned over every day, people naturally became divisive over the subject, to the point where war broke out. Many factions came about, but, in the end, three came out on top, and still feud to this day; the powerful Order of the Esoteric, the populist Liber Magus, and the mysterious Clan of Seekers, each with their own strategy of action and foundational principles.
The Order of the Esoteric; proud, prestigious, and by the gods, are they powerful. The favorite to win the war, the Order of the Esoteric is second to none in terms of efficiency. Their goal is to unite the relics to create a single, unified power that can bring order and peace to all of civilization, though the reasons for why have led to more than a few disagreements in the organization. Nonetheless, many a king and prince has invested greatly in the order to win their favor and solidify their own power in their land, giving the Order a near-bottomless pit of resources.
Liber Magus; seemingly rough and scattered, but formidable nonetheless; no matter the efforts of the Order, they can seem to be quelled. Liber Magus believes the relics to be a right of the citizens, so that it may enhance the lives of everyone, instead of a few at the top. Peasants flock to Liber Magus in hopes of bettering their lives, but it's hard to say what their numbers actually are, as it seems they actively try to hide them.
Lastly, the Clan of Seekers, a secret society of shadows shrouded in silence. Nobody knows who they are, how powerful they actually are, or even why they do what they do. All that is known is two things; they want to destroy all relics, and they are very good at getting their hands on them.
At the center of this conflict is you; will you be the one to tip the scales and end the centuries-long battle for relics? Will you guide the world down a different path entirely? Will your decisions lead to ruin?
It began with a subtle, hard to describe feeling; they were no less powerful, but felt that something was off, as if they didn't feel as energetic as they once were. Then, the world seemed to dull out of once vibrant colors and alienlike, psychedelic plantlife to a more practical landscape of green and brown, losing a touch of magic it had before. Beyond that, it wasn't long until one of the demigodkind died, his lifeforce drained from a long life, spanning several millennia. The ancient men panicked. Death was a concept they couldn't comprehend. After all, how could they; how could you understand something sentient coming to an end if it had never happened before? A hysteria insued; all of demigodkind shifted from relaxation to desperation to save and store and much magical energy and lifeforce in as many things as possible, so that they might draw from them to maintain their lifestyle, only worsening the process by concentrating lifeforce away from themselves. In the end, all of the underdeities died, undone by their desperation to continue on by any means necessary.
But with their death came an opportunity for a new era, leaving space for new a civilization led by the mortal men they left behind. On the land that gave home to tribes built on spiritual energy and community rose kingdoms of wood and stone. Kings, queens, princes, and princesses came and went, but civilization went on. The world had shifted from a place formed of magic to a place formed of the hands of man, and no longer was a man capable of more that what his own mortal body or the bodies of anyone he could rally could achieve. Great works were not accomplished by simple whims or desires, but through long, careful planning, and decades of effort. Life carried on like this for centuries.
However, the world was flipped on its head on one early morning. A humble farmer, turning the soil for a harvest on new land, struck a simple ring of copper with the metal end of his hoe. Thinking he could get a decent price at market for it, he slipped the ring on his thumb, due to its size, and continued to till the land. By the end of it, however, he felt as if he had barely moved a muscle at all. He found he needed not food or drink, saving his share for his family, and he continued to work unharmed. It didn't take long for someone to take notice, and a brief discussion of the farmer made it easy to determine the ring had some sort of power of supernatural origins. A relic of the creators had been found.
Once the existence of relics became public knowledge, the search was on. It didn't take long for hundreds upon hundreds of relics to be found, ranging greatly in form, power, and purpose. Some were benign, such as a bracelet that always let you instinctively know what direction north was; many were capable of spectacular yet typical feats, such as rings allowing you to shoot lightning from the tips of your fingers or gloves that could cure the wounded; a select few gave power unthinkable, such as reviving the dead, strength that could destroy cities, or the ever-coveted immortality. Legend has it that relics of even greater power still wait to be found.
With new magical relics being turned over every day, people naturally became divisive over the subject, to the point where war broke out. Many factions came about, but, in the end, three came out on top, and still feud to this day; the powerful Order of the Esoteric, the populist Liber Magus, and the mysterious Clan of Seekers, each with their own strategy of action and foundational principles.
The Order of the Esoteric; proud, prestigious, and by the gods, are they powerful. The favorite to win the war, the Order of the Esoteric is second to none in terms of efficiency. Their goal is to unite the relics to create a single, unified power that can bring order and peace to all of civilization, though the reasons for why have led to more than a few disagreements in the organization. Nonetheless, many a king and prince has invested greatly in the order to win their favor and solidify their own power in their land, giving the Order a near-bottomless pit of resources.
Liber Magus; seemingly rough and scattered, but formidable nonetheless; no matter the efforts of the Order, they can seem to be quelled. Liber Magus believes the relics to be a right of the citizens, so that it may enhance the lives of everyone, instead of a few at the top. Peasants flock to Liber Magus in hopes of bettering their lives, but it's hard to say what their numbers actually are, as it seems they actively try to hide them.
Lastly, the Clan of Seekers, a secret society of shadows shrouded in silence. Nobody knows who they are, how powerful they actually are, or even why they do what they do. All that is known is two things; they want to destroy all relics, and they are very good at getting their hands on them.
At the center of this conflict is you; will you be the one to tip the scales and end the centuries-long battle for relics? Will you guide the world down a different path entirely? Will your decisions lead to ruin?
