Encounter-a-Day

It was over three hundred years ago that the war against God began. It was just over sixty years ago that the war was finished. In the end, the arcane magics the mortals had cultivated proved triumphant, and God was slain.

At last, the plagues and foul beasts God had sent against the mortals were no more. For the first time in history, the world was united in peace, in jubilation, in celebration.

It was short-lived. There was a problem no one had accounted for. With God dead, there were no new souls. Every new baby died as soon as it was born. Human, elf, dwarf, orc, even livestock.

At first, they all banded together, trying to find a solution. Nothing worked. Food supplies were suddenly very scarce; even crops could no longer be cultivated. The only renewable source of food were from magic, and mages were rare.

The warforged, originally created to aid in the battle against God, were now turned against former allies. Wars were fought over storehouses and mages. The mortal races had accrued terrible weapons in their centuries-long war, and now entire kingdoms were reduced to smoking craters in the blink of an eye.

But that was then. Things have calmed down quite a bit now. Most of the mortals are dead. Orcs are completely extinct, and the youngest humans– those born just before God was slain– are into their sixties. Only the dwarves and elves really remain. Few of them are left, though, and even their time is dwindling.

The age of the mortals is over. This is the age of the warforged, of the kiln-born, of the liches and undead.