Lore – PARIAH

In the beginning, only the Void existed, a formless calm where the Elemental gods slept under the reign of Entropy. This harmony was shattered when Pariah emerged from the shadows, a thing of ambition who defied eternal Chaos and introduced something unprecedented: Order. By binding the elemental gods, Pariah forged the physical world, establishing cycles and structure where none had existed before, allowing humanity to flourish.

For ages, mortals thrived under Pariah’s silent rule while the gods of Earth, Water, Wind, and Fire remained imprisoned within the natural world. But soon they stirred, and their awakening brought catastrophic upheaval: earthquakes split mountains, oceans rose in devastating waves, storms ravaged sky and land, and volcanic fire engulfed everything in its path. Their unleashed fury sought only one goal, breaking their chains and returning existence to primordial disorder.

This surge of elemental power produced an unexpected miracle: the birth of the Beastmen, hybrids formed from the fusion of elemental essence and living creatures. As they struggled to find their place, humanity fractured. Loyalists devoted to Pariah took refuge in Cimeria, forming paladin orders to restore stability, while radical sectarians in the ruins of Farrad pursued a darker path, creating Undead legions in their attempt to enforce eternal, unchanging Order.
Now, as the Elementals rise to unmake creation the mortal races brace for what may be the final war. Under ashen skies, paladins struggle to preserve the fading light of Order, while necromancers marshal enormous armies of the dead and the Beastmen fight with fang and claw to claim their place in the Pariah's broken world.

Each battle may determine the fate of the world, as all stand on the brink between salvation and absolute destruction. There are no second chances.
Will you take a stand and fight for your side? Or will you fade into the Void?

The Elementals have awakened, leaving Cimeria as the last surviving kingdom loyal to the Pariah. Spared from the worst destruction, it now faces countless enemies determined to wipe out the remnants of the old Order. Throughout the realm, Inquisitors and Harvesters hunt down magic, while local heroes defend the population from emerging horrors.

To the north, Paladins and Clerics battle to reclaim fallen strongholds and stem the Undead pouring from Farrad. In the west, garrisons rebuild ruined fortifications and brace for further elemental assaults. Leading Cimeria’s armies are the Lord Martyrs—nobles who sacrificed their birthright to serve the Pariah—supported by the forces of powerful lords.

Cimeria stands alone, yet unyielding. Order will be restored, and all who defy it shall be cast down.

The War of the Elements began with the Pariah’s greatest crime, the creation of Order. Deceived and bound into a world that should never have existed, the elemental gods waited in silence until the Pariah’s vigilance waned. Earth awoke first, breaking its chains and unleashing Fire, Water, and Wind in a cascade of devastation.

As the Elementals rose, kingdoms collapsed one by one. Farrad was the first to fall beneath tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, and raging storms. Now the Elementals walk the world as powerful Avatars, followed by hybrid creatures and Shamans devoted to destroying the false Order.
Only Cimeria still resists their overwhelming force. Yet a darker threat lurks in the depths of the Void: Entropy, the fifth element, stirs once more. Should it fully awaken, all creation will be undone, returning the world to the silence from which it came.

The Rise of the Elementals shattered the ancient kingdom of Farrad. Its coasts were swallowed by raging seas, and fire consumed what little remained. The Order lay broken, yet from the ashes, the surviving wizards of Farrad envisioned rebirth. They turned to forbidden arts and dreamed of a new Order, one not of life, but Death.

These mages became Necromancers, binding souls to corpses and defying the natural cycle as they raised the first Undead. They plundered forgotten tombs and awakened monstrous Abominations. They resurrected horrors and unearthed relics of terrible power, whose curse twisted its bearers into immortal Liches.

Worse still, the Pariah has remained silent since the cataclysm, and whispers now claim that avatars of the god himself walk among the Undead.
As the sun sinks beneath the sea the shadow of Death lengthens over Farrad. Legions march from their blackened shores to forge a new Order, one in which life itself must be silenced.

In a world torn between Order and Entropy, the Beastmen emerged, born of flesh and elemental fury. Neither human nor wholly beast, they carried within themselves the raw essence of Earth, Water, Wind, and Fire. Wherever elemental power surged, life twisted into new forms, and the Beastmen rose, strong, wild, and untamed.

They recognize no true gods or masters. Guided by instinct, they claimed the empty spaces left by humanity in Farrad, settling in abandoned temples and shattered cities where the elements had carved their marks.
Their hearts beat to the rhythm of nature, and in their howls they proclaim the inheritance of the broken world that birthed them. They are a living testament to the breaking of the Order, loyal to none, hostile to all who oppose nature and the untamed growth of all things savage.

A vision of death...

A quiet stillness filled the clearing. The storm that had swept through the forest only a few hours earlier had left behind a cold, crisp breeze that carried a thin mist with it, sliding it between the trees like a lurking snake. Only the patter of droplets falling from the leaves dared to break the silence.
Sunlight barely filtered through the clouds and the treetops, occasionally making the dew shimmer like a thousand suspended pearls. The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp wood.

Anyone standing there would have felt the scene’s spellbinding beauty; yet the cold wind seemed to seep inward as well, its breath climbing the nape of the neck in a shiver that felt more like a warning than a simple breeze. It was in clearings such as these that the Beastmen, youngest of the mortal races, buried their dead. Simple mounds, marked only by freshly turned earth, hid vast pits where the weak and the elderly were discarded, often in mass graves quickly forgotten and reclaimed by the forest.

Some beasts, however, were considered special. Even in their short existence, the Beastmen had developed funerary rites to honor those among them who they owed the greatest respect. For the lords of tribes or hordes, the custom was to seek out solitary trees, lone survivors in a land tainted by Farrad’s magic. At the foot of these revered tres they buried their leaders, taking care not to harm their roots. They carved their names into the bark with the belief that their spirits would dwell within the wood and would continue protecting them from future calamities.

A dry crack broke the silence. Barely noticeable at first, it was followed by another, and then a third, until it became clear that something was moving among the trees.
By then the sun had slipped back behind the clouds, but in the shadows twisted shapes could be seen advancing steadily toward the clearing.
The mist recoiled as they emerged. Their grayish skin looked cold and damp to the touch; their gazes empty. The intermittent drip of water gave way to the scraping of feet dragging across the mud as they formed a circle around the mound at the clearing’s center, until at last they were all in position. After a brief pause, their bodies leaned forward in unison, and their hands began to dig into the wet earth.
The rhythmic, steady sound of their digging betrayed no urgency. No doubt. Whatever had been buried there would be unearthed for their dark masters.

Scions of Ruin

The Beastmen were born on the day the world’s agony began.
Imbued with elemental magic, those who had once been nothing more than wild animals soon formed tribes, forged their first tools, and began seeking their place in the world. They were neither children of Pariah nor recognized by the Elementals, and so, at first, they wandered aimlessly through the ruins of the old world.

The cataclysm did not cease, and the Beastmen soon faced their first clashes with the many factions brought forth by the Elemental Awakening. Each faction held its own purpose or ideal, while the Beastmen had only the bonds of loyalty that tied them together. Before long, they began yearning for a destiny of their own.

It is said that a wind shaman was the first to witness the birth of an Avatar of Ruin: a tiny butterfly capable of dancing through turbulent currents it conjured itself. The shaman was awed by the creature’s dangerous volatility, and his tribe soon began to worship it with wary reverence, aware that its power could sweep anyone away with a single sudden gale.
Not long after, amid the still-smoldering ashes of a volcanic eruption, a small fire salamander was found crawling as though the lava were its natural home; such was its fiery vitality that many fell to their knees, unable to meet its gaze. Excitement spread among the tribes, and these tiny creatures began to be revered as nascent gods of Nature. It was soon concluded that if Avatars of Fire and Wind had awakened, then surely the incarnations of Earth and Water must also exist.

With new purpose and driven by a rare sense of unity, the Beastmen set out to find the remaining Avatars. It did not take long for them to discover an otter in the river deltas along the southern coast of Farrad. It swam with such grace and control over the currents that it was immediately recognized as the Avatar of Water.
With each revelation, their conviction and devotion grew stronger: the Avatars were not mere creatures, but young gods destined to restore the world alongside their followers.

The fourth Avatar, however, proved the most elusive. Weary from their ceaseless search, the major tribes decided to gather deep within the lands of Farrad, in what would be remembered as the Orichalcum Conclave, with the intent of uniting the three discovered Avatars and protecting them until they reached maturity.

On their way to the Conclave, the tribe led by the legendary Lord of Night, the most formidable Lords of the Herd, took shelter in a cave to escape the fury of the elements. There, in the darkness, a faint tremor ran through the stone. A silent mole, its fur covered with dirt, emerged before the tribe. The Lord of Night understood at once that this seemingly insignificant creature hid something far greater: it was the fourth and final Avatar, the embodiment of Earth itself.

At the Conclave, with the four Avatars of Ruin at last gathered, the leading chiefs of the Beastmen swore loyalty and protection to the young gods. One by one, they presented the Avatars before those assembled:
The Butterfly, volatile and wth an unpredictable temperament; the Otter, whose fluid form stirred fierce passions among the most impulsive; the Salamander, whose living flame inspired a primal awe; and the Mole, finally revealed to the tribes and welcomed with great rejoicing.

And so was the destiny of the Beastmen forever bound to the four children of Ruin.