Aerra

"Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night." -Dylan Thomas   Centuries ago Humanity stood with Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, and other mortal races. For a time the cycle of peace and war between peoples of Aerra was unbroken. Then came the Sun god Sol, Humanitys benefactor. Sol blessed the Aenian Empire with his favor and as they waged war to unite the different tribes and nations of Man. From the Obelisks of Syrus across the Indigo Sea to the Oasis of Amman far across the Bleached Desert, all bent the knee to the Aenian Empire. All bent the knee to Sol.   It was not enough.   The Aenian Empire had a vision of Humanity dominant across all of Aerra. A vision of peace and order. A vision of genocide. For over two centuries the Aenian Empire launched a campaign of extermination of the other mortal races. As the Imperial Myrmidons of the V Legion marched on the enemies of Humanity the Apostles of Sol and the Librarians of Aenium toiled to craft a spell to give their master the power to wipe out not only the peoples of Aerra but their gods as well.   After fifty years they completed their work. A spell was made to channel the arcane might of the Master Librarians and the faith of the High Apostles into Sols avatar. With this spell Sol would have the strength to destroy the non-human gods and through their destruction kill their people. For what is a people without a god? As the followers of Sol fed him their power in the center of Aenium he rose into the sky shining brighter and brighter a great cry rang out over all of Aerra.   Every Elf, Dwarf, Orc, and Dragon fell that day. Anyone that wasn't human died as their gods life was snuffed out.   This sin would not go unpunished.   AS the followers of Sol fed him their might it had an unforeseen consequence. Sol was fed with the souls of his followers. Locked by the spell to consume all who had pledged themselves to his might. As the power flowed it became uncontrollable as even a god has limits. Sol rose higher over Aenium unable to stop the flow of power until he had consumed the soul of every Apostle and Librarian from journeyman to master leaving only apprentices behind to witness the destruction of what came next.   With the spell complete the sun blackened and Sol fell. Sol fell back to Aenium with enough force to shatter the Pennisula of Nedea breaking it into an island chain killing the avatar. The Bale Night was heralded as the end times. Then when almost all hope was lost Sols avatar came back...   And said goodbye.   The sun would rise but he would not return to the mortal plane. He would retake his place in the heavens and watch over his children as they made their way in the world. It has not been an easy path.   Plague and politics wormed their way into the newly named Holy Empire of Illium and tore it apart. Barbarians ravage the land from the north, heretics invade from the east, and traitors to the south and west squabble among themselves. In this dark age the common people cling to faith as apprentices cling to tomes of knowledge their masters left behind and try to understand the arcane knowledge within. Not for power but to prop up the dead carcass of what was once a great empire.