Phoberos

Mogis reshaped our ancestors, giving form to their great rages and pains. We are not our ancestors, though. We are god-carved for greatness, but each of us determines how. —Gysios, Bronzebones veteran
    The western edge of Akroan territory is a region of arid canyons and caverns called Phoberos, a land of harsh natural whims haunted by ravenous monsters. Fierce bands of wild minotaurs haunt these badlands, and for centuries these brutal marauders were the only minotaurs the human poleis ever knew—which contributed to the minotaurs’ reputation as bloodthirsty brutes.   But to the north of Phoberos, far from the walls of Akros, stands the sprawling, labyrinthine polis of Skophos. Skophos is mentioned in a few ancient odes, but only a handful of humans have ever beheld Skophos, and hardly any have successfully navigated its labyrinthine passageways and returned to tell of it.   The founding of Skophos and its troubled history with Akros are the stuff of myth, and it is difficult to distinguish the mortal history of the two poleis from tales of the twin gods, Iroas and Mogis. The gods warred with each other, their followers and champions vied for control of scarce land, and two ideals—the nobility of heroic struggle and victory versus the brutality of savage slaughter in war—competed for a place in the mortal mind. Just as Mogis is the dark shadow of everything Iroas stands for, so is Skophos the reflection of Akros. And Phoberos is the bloodstained battleground where the eternal conflict between the gods and their poleis is waged.
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