War comes to the western lands!
The Kingdom of Solara: When the Veil Thins
Once each year, when the sun and moon stand at their highest arc and the bells of First Light ring thirteen times, the Veil Thins.
On that night, the world of Solara brushes against countless other realms.
Paths unseen open beneath old trees.
Mirrors ripple.
Campfires burn a color not their own.
And travelers arrive.
They come as heroes, scholars, mercenaries, pilgrims, and exiles—drawn by fate, chance, or desperation. By ancient law, Solara welcomes them all. For Solara was once saved by those not born of its soil, and the kingdom remembers.
But not all who cross the Veil come in peace.
The Shadowed
Beyond the eastern marches, where sunlight weakens and the land forgets its own name, the Shadowed gather.
Once, they were people of Solara.
Knights. Nobles. Farmers. Kin.
They were not conquered by blade or fire—but taken.
The Shadowed believe that light is a lie told by those who fear the truth: that all things end, and in ending, are finally honest. They march not to rule Solara, but to still it—to freeze it in an endless dusk where nothing may grow, change, or hope.
And now, they hold a weapon no army can ignore.
The Stolen Blood
During the last Thinning of the Veil, under guard thought unbreakable, a member of the Royal Bloodline was taken.
Not slain.
Not ransomed.
Turned.
Clad now in blackened regalia, crowned in shadow, the lost royal stands among the Shadowed—proof that even Solara’s light can be extinguished.
Some say they were broken.
Others whisper they chose this path.
A few believe the person who was taken is still alive… waiting to be reached.
The crown has not named them dead.
The Gathering of Armies
Now the year turns again.
Two armies stand across the Fields of Fate.
To the west:
The Banner of Solara, gold and white snapping in the wind. Knights, militia, spellcasters, and travelers from beyond the Veil stand shoulder to shoulder. Old alliances strain under the weight of fear—but still, they stand.
To the east:
The Host of Shadow, silent, unmoving, their banners dark as starless sky. Among them, figures not seen in a generation… and one who should never have stood there at all.
Between them lies scorched earth—and choice.
What the World Asks of the Players
This war is not yet decided.
The Veil is thin.
Truth is fragile.
And destiny is unfinished.
Will the travelers from other worlds tip the balance toward dawn—or doom?
Will the stolen royal be redeemed, or crowned in shadow?
Will Solara’s ancient laws of welcome prove its salvation—or its greatest weakness?
Will the Shadowed be broken… or revealed to be something more terrible than enemies?
When the horns sound, the world will remember what you choose.