Everyone said Creation was going to hell.

They were wrong. When the Scarlet Empress Returned, hell came to Creation.

Not at first, her return was a miracle. The civil war in the realm ended the moment of her reemergence. Her first act was to destroy the Deathlord, Mask of Winters along with every man woman and child in Thorns; using the Realm Defense Grid. The bureaucracy was improved, corruption routed out, the Wyld Hunt began to ruthlessly exterminate the anathema again.

She was a hero, the savior returned. This facade feel away in time. Increased natural disasters, frequent wars, poisoned dragon lines, threads of fate fraying. Marriage to the Ebon Dragon opened the way for the return of the return of the Ebon Dragon, who closed the gates to freedom behind himself. Keeping the remaining demon kings in hell.

One Hundred Years have passed.

The axis of the world the elemental pole of earth the once great mountain at the center of creation is now a smoking crater barely held together by a web of the Dragons shadow. Creation is fraying at the edges and corruption seeps into the land.

The Blessed Isle became a realm of nightmare drenched in the eternal shadow and poisoned essence of the Dragon. All corners of creation were ravaged by the build up to the war and have fared little better after.

The East is a war torn wasteland of basalt plains and rivers of lava, only Sijan the city of the dead is left in peace.

The North is silent war, famine and a devastating winter have ravaged most life from from that already harsh direction

In the West all major powers except An-Teng lay in ruins. Despite an overwhelming victory half of the west became a shadowland due to the war with the Silver Prince of Skullstone. The Lintha pirate family raids with ease.

The Souths vast coastal cities have been remade into concentration camps seeking refuge from marauding desert tribes. The city of Gem was taken over by the First and Forsaken Lion in his aerial palace.

Sol Invictus is dead and the Daystar reduced to nothing but embers hangs impotently in the sky. The endless hordes of hell reave through the world corrupting Creation to suit its new master. Stomping out all who would or could oppose him.

After the death of the Unconquered Sun and the obliteration of the sidereals heaven went into lockdown. No contact in or out since the Ebon Dragon returned.

He is the Emperor of Existence, Overlord of the Omphalos and other grandiose self-appointed titles. His forces spread out to crush what pockets of resistance remain and enslave the populace of creation. His rule transcends mortal conceptions of tyranny, being utterly oppressive, capricious and self serving. He does what amuses him and what amuses him most is a world gradually unraveling not into nothingness, but worse, nothing but himself as the mad dictator of all chaos.

Those who bear witness to the slow decay of everything good cannot even bemoan the loss for being enslaved to partake in the degradation. The anguish of his slaves delights him, he laughs when mothers splatter the brains of their babies against the walls for being inconvenient. He laughs when starving orphans eat each other. He laughs when his passage brings forth monsters from beneath the earth in great orgies of rape until no pure hum lineages remain. Surviving gods who remember miss the good old days when the King of the Primordials was their kindly master.

The times are bleak but the Exalted still remain. Hope still lives in guttering embers. Strongholds in the Wyld, the beachhead of Autochthonia. Even if all of the chosen are slain their is hope that they new heroes will reincarnate and rise up to overthrow the Ultimate Darkness.

The cycle of creations history is a saga of subordinates overthrowing their masters. Hope springs eternal and hope is poisonous to the Ebon Dragon.

Redeemer or Destroyer

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