Mistfall

{{World
 * useAsSetting=Yes
 * hasDescription===On the Creation of the World and the Firstborn==

The oldest of tales speak of a featureless, barren globe suspended in nothingness, and of two Prime Powers that descended from the void to shape the world and bestow upon it the gift of life. Some say that the divine beings had been different from the start. Others claim that it was when the sun rose and then set over the world for the first time that the gods separated: one embracing the Light and becoming Dawn, Mother of Day, and the other forever merging with the Darkness to become Dusk, the Nightfather.

Despite their differences, they laboured dauntlessly, always on two opposite ends of the globe, enveloping it in clear skies, sculpting mountains and valleys, separating the lands from the seas and filling rivers and lakes with water. They would also create life, Dawn crafting plants and all the creatures that would feed on them, and Dusk shaping beasts of prey and all things happy to live under a night sky. Finally, having built a glorious home for their offspring, they went about creating their masterpiece: the Firstborn.

The work was divided evenly: while Dusk crafted his children’s bodies by night, Dawn created their minds and souls during the day, instilling in them the love for all her creations. But when the Firstborn woke up, not knowing their father, they flocked to the Mother of Day, constantly following her into the light, and ever fleeing from their father. Despite his best efforts, they would remain fearful and indifferent towards his beckoning. Disappointed and scorned, Dusk lashed at the ground in a fit of dark rage, burning his creations with a wrathful black fire, covering the lands in ash and burying the broken bodies of his children under rock and stone.

On the Great Despair and the Last Sacrifice
Silence fell over the world once again, and Dusk could hear in the distance the cries of Dawn, as even she was not able to give life back to her murdered children. Remembering the pain of his own loss, the Nightfather harvested all of the mercy and hope still lingering in the cold Darkness, gave it shape and forged it into a Moon that would eclipse the sun for a single day. Thus, the Mother of Day and the Father of Night were united one last time, to work together on recreating their greatest achievement.

And so they crafted mankind, gifting it with both their essences in equal measure. Instilling human minds with Light and Darkness made the gods’ children truly free, for now they had the capacity to love both day and night, and the ability to choose between the two paths that started from the same place, but ultimately led into two opposite directions.

Since that last union, the Moon has stood as a solemn reminder of Dusk’s last act of grace, and some say that it reflects the light of the sun because the Nightfather used up all of his compassion to forge it, and all of his love for the Mother of Day to make it yield to his will and eclipse the sun – and that when it all happens again, it will be at the end of days.

On the Passing of the First Age
From the day of the Awakening, humanity started spreading and conquering the furthest corners of its new home. And as men grew in the Light, the Mother of Day watched her children with pride. But as Dawn smiled upon men, Dusk watched them with a growing disdain, for in those times only few would choose the shadows over the light of day. And those who did were either too weak to make their father proud or so headstrong, that they would try to harness his power and use it to their own ends.

Bitter and irate, Dusk turned his thoughts to crafting a new race – one that would serve him without question. In the deepest darkness of the old forests, in the forgotten caves under the tallest mountains, he engineered his servants, building their bodies to resemble both humans and the beasts of prey he had made in the beginning. Without Dawn’s aid, he crafted their minds with his own essence, instilling in them rage and malice, and a desire to feed and to conquer, but no compassion and no regard for love and life.

Satisfied, the Nightfather watched his new offspring multiply and grow in strength, with minds focused on death and rampage and the Darkness that spawned them. And when their numbers grew, he unleashed them upon humanity. The war that came soon after brought many of the ancient kingdoms to ashes, dividing the world forever and showing humanity that it can never again feel safe in its own home. And thus the First Age ended in blood and a new order came to be. And henceforth it would shape the world, locking it in a bitter struggle between the Mother of Day and the Nightfather – and all of their children.

And so it remained until the Mists came to twist and devour the works of both Dusk and Dawn.

On the Error of Creation.

For more than a hundred years humanity fought a desperate battle, trying to fend off the Nightfather’s children. The beastmen, relentless in their cruelty, with minds forged in the Darkness by an envious and bitter god, were relentless in their pursuit to dominate the world. But the children of light were not easily destroyed. And although some kingdoms had fallen, others would resist with the strength and resilience born out of unwavering faith in the Mother of Day – or from humanity’s pure resolve and defiance.

Where children of Dusk came to rule, chaos would ensue. With minds set on battle and destruction, without common enemies, the wild beastmen fought among themselves, forming tribes to war each other, spilling blood over hunting grounds – and falling deeper and deeper into an internal strife that would in time leave them open to retaliation. Displeased yet again, the Nightfather tried to punish those of his children who were first to turn against their own kind, but quickly found that whatever ill fortune he would condemn the savage creatures to, it would only make their fury burn ever hotter and more savage.

And then he came to realise the weakness of his creation. While men, made when Dawn and Dusk laboured together, the beastmen were condemned to the one purpose the Nightfather had forged them for – and all they wanted was the power and might gained by what he poured into them.

On the Coming of the Mists
Unable to control his children any more, Dusk devised a most cruel punishment. The Nightfather took away all the power his support had lent them thus far and with it, all dark magic they called upon to strengthen their blows against humanity. Suddenly deprived of their might, the shamans and chieftains of the tribes called out to their father, but he would not answer, watching in bitter satisfaction as servants of Dawn started reclaiming the lands they had been banished from.

But the beastmen, unable to comprehend the change of their fate, would still call out, craving for their lost strength. Drums beat day and night, as the abandoned tribes preformed dark rituals, trying to win back the grace of Dusk by feats of strength and bloody sacrifice. Determined to regain what they had lost, they would call out dauntlessly, until something answered.

From the far north, from a land where night and day are almost like one, the Mists reached out to the abandoned children of Dusk, filling them once more with the power they had craved so much. But the touch of the Mists was far different from the gaze of the Nightfather, as it would twist and transform some of its new servants, and where it was thickest, even the animals or the land itself.

On the Age of Heroes
Filled with a new power, the beastmen started yet again to gain the upper hand against the children of Dawn. Faster and more determined, as if filled with a rage unknown even to the Nightfather, they struck against all, mercilessly killing even those few among men that served Dusk. And as the cold tendrils of the Mists spew out creatures transformed into beasts even more fearsome and savage than the beastmen warriors, a new threat emerged from the impenetrable, ashen veil.

The tales were first told by the few survivors of the nightmarish battles against the servants of the Mists. And they were tales of ghostly shapes walking the barrows and the dark woods, of empty skulls and rotting flesh peeling off bones that would move once again. Tales of the dead raised from the ashes. Tales of former brothers reanimated and twisted by the power of the Mists, once again taking up arms, but this time in service of a power bent on only one thing: a total annihilation of all Dawn and Dusk had ever created.

Deprived of his power over the beastmen, Dusk turned to the few servants he had among men, once again lending them his power and voicing his will. Seeing the plight of her children, Dawn spoke to men as well. And while Dusk moved his pawns far away from the new threat, Dawn empowered the bravest of her children and send them into the Mist ridden lands. Many of them would not return, but the Mother of Day knew that the power that twisted her world and shaped it in its own malevolent image must be stopped at any costs.

And so came the Age of Heroes. }}