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World Backstory

The settlement of Eldramoor was born when a ship of human refugees, fleeing their home continent of Valjordyn, was blown off course by a freak storm. Though their leader, Eldranis, had foreseen an attack on his people, the tempest blindsided them all. They floated, adrift for days, until they encountered an uncharted island. Lost and exhausted, the refugees made landfall there instead of their original destination, Marondia.

Whether this was a chance discovery or one woven by the hands of fate depends on whom in Eldramoor you ask. Whatever the answer, it was an incident that dramatically altered the course of Eldranis and his people’s history forever. Their world was opened beyond the stifling, oppressive atmosphere of Valjordyn, to a land full of magic and mysteries. Here, they could heal the wounds of previous subjugated generations, and begin building a haven for those who wouldn’t, or couldn’t, fit into the rigid molds in which Valjordynian society had sought to imprison them.

The repressed could live openly as themselves, unfettered by the impositions of a society that reviled them. The disabled could be respected and accommodated for, living their lives with comfort and freedom. Even Mystics, people born with the capacity for magic, could finally get up close and personal in their study of the land’s leylines and practice their own natural aptitude for the arcane—feats previously forbidden. Yet as Eldramoor’s people explored their surroundings, they soon found that they were not alone.

Sauravi. Bunfolk. Shroomkind. Faunir. Dragons. Long dormant and secluded in their own pockets of society, the inhabitants of the island turned their eyes to the newest arrivals. It had been a long time since these groups had willingly crossed paths with each other, let alone anyone new to them. Eldramoor’s hero and founder, Eldranis—and The First Guild, who accompanied him—attempted to bridge that gap. But before the work could truly begin, Eldranis left his people behind.

Eldranis’s sudden death was a tragic loss for his people, leaving them leaderless and alone, while intra-island relations collapsed. In his passing, he left them one final gift: a spell to enshroud the island in mist and protect them from their oppressors. But there are whispers of another protective barrier on the island waning. Cracks are forming above the darkened skies of the neighboring land of Torcia, ready to unleash something terrible.