hollowworld.uk

The world ended.

The world has ended before.

Everything fell to ruin.

Not for the first time.

How can we possibly rebuild?

Things can never be exactly as they were.

The Daughter of Grief was a weapon. Like shot from a cannon, it ripped through the Hells. Nothing stood in its way, and what survived became Corrupted. The weapon came from deep within the bowels of the very Hells it destroyed, but who or what set it off no one knows. Perhaps we never will. When it pierced the veil and struck Altera, it prompted a great exodus. Not only was there great destruction wrought from the weapon itself, but Corruption came with it, and legions of newly corrupted demons. It was destruction on a level that had not been seen in generations, for over a hundred years. Civilizations had risen and fell since Corruption was last known to Alterans. They were not prepared.

Those who could fled by magic or artifice, even as far as fleeing to other worlds. Those of lesser means than that fled by ship. Some north, into forbidding cold; some east, into uncharted lands; some south, into terrible heat; and some west, back to lands forgotten. Those who could not flee at all died.

The story of Altera is going to follow those who fled west. The tales of those who went to other places remains unwritten, at least for now.

The old Northern Kingdoms is the new Sunken Lands. What was once familiar is now foreign. Where once there had been mighty continents, only scattered islands remain. Islands with signs of having once been inhabited, but no living people to greet their long lost kin. Shoreless Gulf and the Sea of Storms are to blame for the change in landscape, but are nowhere to be found either.

All that is left is for those who remain to move on, and try to carve out a new life for themselves amidst uncertain tides.