“How, in our hubris and greed, did we so seek to reach the heights of gods, to become a Pantheon in-of-itself and rule above those we deemed weak. How we brought a curse upon our lands, struck down the one man which held back the terrors of reality and, in all of his stoic grace, ever willingly pleased the meek. Now we… Gods, we sit upon our thrones in distant lands and plead to our Forefather for salvation. How far we have truly fallen to become less than Gods in our waning years, to become that which we once despised. Truly a tragedy if a written tale.” -Archmage Heaverius, King of Ivon
In an age long past there stood a man -no less a God than a mortal- who reigned above the world, who sought to be as the Sun in the skies and the Moon in the blanket of stars. The first master of Aether and the last, Aeurius reigned above all men and mer alike not with force or subterfuge but with kindness and forgiveness. In his kingdom people prospered, their harvests were bountiful and their roads free of bandits. In this Age, the world knew not the touch of Aether for it was a forbidden art, banned by the decree of Aeurius. In this Age, the Pantheon sought to become as Aeurius himself.
Pantheon sought out the source of Aether in a drive to become more than simple farmers, to live a life of more than repetitive tedium. Peus knew not war or famine, no great power ruled over another in Aeurius’ reign, no noble house sought to assassinate one and another at the fear of his wrath. The Pantheon sought but to escape that which they could hardly call a life, to pursue knowledge they only knew as forbidden and yet wholly part of Aeurius. In their greed they wished to control the Aether which Aeurius had kept from them, to forge a destiny which would shine as bright as the sun.
How foolish they were to think they could truly become like Gods through half understood scripture, to steal the yoke of the Aether from Aeurius himself. Though they were together strong enough to cast Aeurius unto the ground of his own temple, they had not the power to control the raging Aether. In his death throes, Aeurius expressed sadness for the Pantheon and Persi, for the fate that they had subjected the world to. The fate of the Black Sun, a manifestation of the Aether itself and a curse upon Peus.
Ages have passed since the Fall of Aeurius and the dawn of the Black Sun, many of the Pantheon have gone into hiding, either to seek the power to fix the Black Sun or in fear of what horrors they have wrought on Peus. Only in the city of Jorn does one of the Pantheon seek not to undo what they have done nor hide from its creation but walks among the people as a protector. The streets of Jorn are not plagued by the beasts which roam the night for their protector, the Goddess Amari, has brought the Scarlet Flame to their people. Only in Jorn are the people free to research Aether, to seek the knowledge to fight the Black Sun.
Harsh times have fallen on the city of Jorn, however, as the beasts of the Black Sun have grown more brazen in their attempts to destroy the city. Adventurers have been called from all lands in the hopes that they may help fight the beasts. With the power of the Pantheon waning, the only hope for Peus rests in the hands of those willing to fight and even die.