The World of Edarde

For many thousands of years, much of the world of Edarde has been in the grip of a great Ice Age. That age is no more; the ice has melted and retreated to the wastes north and much time has passed. Life has returned to the land and with that life the races of men have traveled after them, looking to resettle ancient lands long lost to ice and time. There are the Clans of the Ehibiltzeem that have set their villages across Edarde and hunt and gather the bountiful wildlife that surrounds them. Apart from them stand the Shahareem, men who reap riches deep from the earth, who build sprawling cities on the coasts of Edarde-men of technology and civilization.

These cultures of men are not alone however.

Hidden deep within the mountain range that dominates Edarde’s interior are the Mundareem: great mountains of half-men who have a history tied to the land of Edarde itself. It’s history is just as secretive as the land itself however, and while they are not gone from the land entirely, no one has seen a Mundareem in a very long time. Save the Shahareem, who, over the course of a long and bloody war, took great numbers of Mundareem from the land and bound them to their will with powerful sorcery and force them to build monuments to the Gods of the land to their last breaths. Once plentiful across the land, they were driven to the mountains to live a marginal existence.

One hundred years hence, the land is dying. It’s creatures flee the lands they were bound to for centuries, the water is becoming stagnant and foul. The greenery of the land itself is withering and dying. The cities of the Shahareem are riddled with disease and famine. The Clans of the Ehihbiltzeem, whose villages had been stagnant for so long have been forced to move on for the first time since the Great Thaw. These great calamities seem to be tied to the plight of the Mundareem themselves. The clans, long since quiet, have erupted in bloodlust and rage, with great war parties erupting from the mountains, killing anyone unfortunate enough to be in their way. Their violence is sporadic and without direction, without strategy or ending in sight.

The magic that made the Mundareem slaves of the cities is failing; more and more Mundareem break their arcane chains to escape or lash out at their masters. The peace between the Shahareem city-states is breaking down and sides are being chosen. Holy men all across the land are lamenting from the pressure of such misfortune and weep for the souls of all men, full and half both. War is coming.