More than five centuries ago, the world of Kethria was healthy – its forests were green, its seas pure, and its very heart pulsed with magic. The mortal races toiled the land and hunted the beasts, building entire civilizations, stone by stone. It was no paradise, but it was a prosperous world.
Of all Kethria’s beings, both magical and mundane, the most awesome were the Titans. The titans were entities of monstrous power, and their strength was derived from Kalderia itself. The elements of the world and the skies above nourished them, granting them near-limitless abilities. Given sufficient time and patience, a titan could sculpt islands and mountain ranges, cut rivers, and breathe life into entirely new species of creatures. If they combined their powers, they could create entire continents. Even so, they were entities of raw fury, forces of nature that lacked the vital spark that would make them into something more.
Mighty though the titans were, they were not yet gods. But what of their children?
Although philosophers have difficulty explaining just why and how it could have happened, the children of the titans were not truly titans themselves. Like their progenitors, they drew some power from the world, but the remainder of their potency derived from another source. They drew the greatest portion of their strength from the world’s mortal races, feeding on the intensity of belief and on the vibrant mortal condition. The power these children called from the mortal races made them something new, something better. It made them gods.
The gods’ enviable connection to the mortals of Kethria was destined to set them against their parents. For although the titans were at one with the essential elements of heaven and earth, they cared little for the world in their charge. If a titan was disappointed with how a coastline developed, he thought nothing of reducing it to sand with a series of tidal waves, cleaning the slate. If a titan grew bored with the thriving mortal races in her domain, she might give birth to horrific monsters to make things more “interesting.”
The gods, who felt the suffering of the mortal races to their very souls, decided that the titans’ reign had to end. Even the cruelest of the gods realized that if the titans were to cleanse the world of mortals on a whim – a very real possibility – loss of the mortals’ faith and vitality would cripple the gods. So these celestial lords met in secret and plotted rebellion. When Denev, the titan of the earth itself, spoke out against her brethren, the gods took it as a sign – and the Titanswar erupted.
Eight gods and one titan went to war against a dozen other titans. The revolution shook the heavens’ pillars, shattered the blazing iron streets of hell, and raged across the face of the world. Under the force of combatants’ blows, mountains split into rubble-strewn plains. Islands sank as warriors used them as stepping stones. Gods and titans alike spawned races of monsters and humanoids as foot soldiers in their feud, and divine blood spilled across the land.
Terrible though the war was, it finally came to an end. With the help of Denev, the gods were victorious. They could not kill the titans, once and for all, however – not even they possessed such power. Each titan had to be restrained or imprisoned, prevented from regaining his strength and seeking revenge. The gods pulled the teeth from Gaurak the Glutton before burying the Ravenous One beneath the earth, ensuring that he could not chew his way out. They cut Mormo the Serpent Mother into pieces, scattering the parts far and wide so the Queen of Witches could not reform. And so the gods dealt with each titan in turn, stripping them of their power and sealing them away.
Now, Kethria is no longer the world it once was. The world has twisted and changed wherever the titans or their dismembered remains lie. Many of the monstrous races created by the titans and gods during the war still survive in the gouged reaches of the land. Those races favored by the gods prosper. The titans’ chosen are less fortunate, watching and waiting from their wilderness exile, plotting to restore their fallen patrons.
Kethria sits scarred, a wounded world still healing.
There is hope. Cities began to prosper once again as civilizations dug clear of the horrors of war . Mortals sharpened their skills of war to hunt the monstrous beasts that preyed upon the weak and injured. The followers of the gods remained ever vigilant, careful that the titans’ scattered minions do not succeed in restoring their heartless lords. Wizardly historians have begun fanning the smoldering embers of magic into a small fire. The mortal races aspire to something much greater. Perhaps Kethria can be restored.
The Year is 591 CY, nearly six hundred years after the Titanswar