Eccora

For over 6,000 years the continent of Eccora existed in relative peace, the many nations and smaller kingdoms that stretched from the southern deserts to the northern tundras, the eastern forests to the western cliffs, existing in mostly harmonious accord. This was due in large part to an intricate web of treaties, alliances, and accords, maintained and adjudicated by the Dawnhold: a coalitional organization of clerics, paladins, and mages who forsook personal and regional loyalty to act as arbitrators for, and champions of, the people of Eccora. From the highest court to the humblest smallhold, they maintained alliances, protected travel routes, and provided healing and education to any and everyone.   But… a little over half a millenia ago the Gods - Dark, Light, and Neutral - fell silent. Any whose power came from divine or infernal sources were rendered impotent virtually overnight, whether healer or necromancer, pontiff or cultist. This event, later called “the Silence,” shattered the balance of power that had held steady for half an eon. Bereft of their divine power and the authority it granted, the Dawnhold found themselves overwhelmed and nearly helpless against the ills they had so long held at bay. Without their network of healers and champions, sickness and banditry scoured the lands. Old feuds reignited, racial and social animosity flared. Within a handful of decades the delicate tapestry of alliances was torn to shreds. Nations and kingdoms shattered and fragmented as various factions ripped them apart from within, and desperate neighbors assaulted from without.   A century or so after the Silence, came the Spellwar. Holding the greatest measure of personal power left in the land, sorcerers and wizards battled over the territories and resources they felt were theirs by right. Some established strongholds and set themselves up as mage-kings and warlords; others sold their powers to the highest bidder or banded together to form enclaves to hoard what they could. The two-century conflict ravaged the already-reeling continent; magical forces and eldritch energies swept over the lands, mutating some species and eliminating others, reshaping the geography and creating pockets of wild magic. What little coordination and civilization was left fell to ruin in the aftermath. The remnants of the Dawnhold, who throughout had fought and worked tirelessly to retain some vestige of civilization and mitigate the damage, gradually faded into history as time, death, and exhaustion whittled their numbers down to almost nothing.   As anarchy and lawlessness encompassed the land, the races of the continent reacted in predictable ways. The Dwarves retreated to their weirs and strongholds in the western cliffs and northern mountains; the Elves faded away into the eastern forests under the protection of the Fae courts. The Goliaths and Centaurs of the middle plains abandoned their cities and towns to return to their nomadic barbarian roots, feuding with the Orcs and goblinoids in tribal raids, while the smallfolk - goblins, gnomes, kobolds, and halflings - took refuge in what settlements remained, or vanished into the hills and caves to form their own isolated tribes. The southern deserts, never the most hospitable to begin with, were abandoned by all save the draconid races who were unbothered by the heat and savage conditions, and the southeastern swamps were left to the lizardfolk and their ilk. Those whose bloodlines bore divine or infernal influence - Aasimar, Tieflings, Ta’anari - found their powers weakened and their populations dwindle generation by generation, until they have all but vanished entirely.   Now, it is spring in the year P(ost)S(ilence) 782. The continent of Eccora is a broken and dangerous land, filled with scattered micro-kingdoms and petty fiefdoms, independent cities and towns, and nomadic tribes of tradesmen and barbarians. Outside the borders of what cities and towns remain wealthy enough to establish it, the only law is that of the blade. Travelers huddle together in caravans for safety in numbers, under constant threat from roving bands of bandits and warlords, or tribals desperate for the resources they cannot create or trade for otherwise. Scavengers still pick at the ruins of old cities and towns left fallow and abandoned, braving both the physical dangers and the possibility of cursed land and artifacts for the chance at finding the forgotten wonders of the past. Superstition and paranoia are stock in trade for anyone not born within the spare handful of wealthy cities and kingdoms; magic - and those who wield it - are viewed with equal measure fear, distrust, and awe. Those who have skill in healing are either highly prized by those in power, or scorned and disdained by the same as charlatans.