Sulis was once a world of flourishing civilizations, their mightily cities of stone standing tall, the sky pierced with the towers of the magi and their armies clad in suits of steel. Life flourished, the arts grew and magic flowed like water. Slowly, all the races began to abandon the temples and rules of the old gods, turning to the magic users to fix their problems. Those men with the gift pushed passed the limits the gods had set for them and undid the delicate balance of the world.

In one night, doom came upon them. The oceans rose in massive waves, drowning the coasts. Fire rained down from the skin. The fabric of time and reality rippled, unleashing creatures of the past and from other planes, on Sulis. Ice from the poles pushed down into the warm parts of the world, gobbling up everything in it’s path. Jungles grew up instantly, swallowing up whole nations in a matter of minutes. Winds scoured other regions clean of life, leaving behind only sand and ruins.

The people cried out, first to their magi and when they could not help, to the old gods they had almost forgotten but no help came. When the dawn broke, the survivors of the human and elven peoples huddled in wilderness, cut off from their magics and the metals, which had tamed the land so many centuries ago. The dwarves were all slain, drowned when the seas had smote their mountains and flooded their underground kingdoms. Several new races had appeared in the night, created in the madness of magical backlash.

Those who survived in the days that followed, did so by returning to the ways of their first ancestors. Stone tools, cured leather clothing and shelters, hunting and gathering for food. They did what they had to and forgot the comforts of their old life, until the living memory of that terrible night was little more then a story, to frighten children.

Those men of magic, who survived the night, were quickly turned upon and slain. The gift, the spark, the talents for controlling the energy, which created the universe, was lost for a time. It would return, many many generations later, manifesting itself within the female body this time. However, the ability remained suppressed, as all the knowledge about magic was locked away, in those tomes, scrolls and tablets, still sitting in decaying cities.

Surprisingly, the works of the magi were not the only things to survive the test of time. The metal weapons of the warriors remained, the wild magic of that night making it that rust would never eat them and that their edges would always be sharp. Those willing to brave the old cities and lucky enough to return, became powerful warriors and chieftains, passing the weapons down to their sons.

Recently, a man named Blackthorn has appeared in the north, with a great many metal weapons, armor and a strange orb. He gifted warriors willing to follow his commands wit the weapons and set out, conquering every tribe he met. The mighty beasts of the northern ice wastes were tamed by the orb and added to his army. For several years now, he has been pushing further and further south, unstoppable. Refugees stampeded before his army, as some sort of terrible herald, bring word of doom.

The peoples of the Silver Wood forest know that soon Blackthorn will be marching into their trees. A grand council is called, gathering all the chieftains and clan leaders, to talk about how they might defend their lands from the invader. Many bring refugees with them, to tell what they have seen of the approaching army. Without the aid of steel however, they have no hope. But there have always been stories of a city, in the middle of the Great Swamp, just to the southeast of the forest. Maybe they might be about to acquire the stores of weapons from there.






Alright, just to keep everyone on the same page, this roleplay is going to focus on a band of warriors sent into the swamp to find metal weapons. You can be from the Silver Wood or a refugee, human, elven or something else. Just remember that this is a primitive fantasy game, so flint is king and clothing should be made of animal skins.

The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

1 Authors

Irish Wolf: 0%