"Our world was her song. An unfinished masterpiece known as the song of creation. Composed by the world goddess, Esmeranda, she instilled our fates with meaning. But now, she is gone. The golden lady slain by the black devil Azazazi, we have been left an orphaned world. But not abandoned. For we've been bequeathed unto a new god. Our foster god, Sol, who will guide us to the high path."

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Most of the prominent religions in Estellon and northern Nomeria agree. The world is caught in a metaphysical blood feud between forces beyond mortal fathoming. And the song of creation no longer echoes in the backdrop of the world... Not that any mortal could actually hear them to begin with, of course. But the bards and the late world goddess's priests could tell that something was wrong. And as one more of the elvin races grew discordant with the psalms the goddess handed to them, anxiety began to creep into the minds of the high elves. The freedom of choice was always present from the start of the world. But now the choices felt hollow, and their consequences empty. It left the many peoples of the world feeling confused, directionless, and lost. And even with a new god extending an altruistic hand towards the mortals of Esmeranda's song, the unanswered questions they'd been left with continue to burn. It as been more than 1,500 years since the churches to the Foster God began to dominate old and new cities alike. But while no one doubts Sol's good intentions, there remain some who still aren't quite sure if they should relinquish the golden faith yet. There are some who feel that not only can the psalm of creation be restored, but it could also be completed. There speaks of a legend of seven chosen Esmari Bards were given a piece of song in secret before the Goddess's passing. And they in turn continue a secret quest, only passing on their songs when they could not continue any further to someone who would.

 

The world continues to be haunted by uncertainty. But even with all the great enigmas, mysteries, and unanswered questions the mortal races were left with, it's likely the last thing on the mind of the common man. In the kingdoms of Falamore, for instance, who has time for that when you have a king on his death bed, dragons rampaging across the south, and a shortage of coffee across the land, thanks to the games of a scheming Ramacci robber baron to the west? All while that ancient ruin on the outskirts of the village has been stirring just loudly enough to cause the local lord and his vassals to worry. Luckily, there exists a group of specialists for the latter problem. Stemming from the tradition of errantry services once offered by hedge knights who sold their swords in times when hands were short, they have since evolved to become members of the merchant class. Men and women who have adopted various "classes" (In order to more easily market their talents and specializations.) For example, Rogues who employ talents one would expect of a burglar in order to infiltrate dungeons, and bypass their defenses. Wizards, who employ the arts of the arcane to solve a large variety of problems. And fighters, who have discipline with weaponry and armor, with which they use to best monstrous foes and villains. All of these men and women are referred to collectively as adventurers.

 

And with the rise of adventurers in these turbulent times, so too has the water been muddied. Before knight errants started delving into dungeons and emerging with fortunes, nobody would have ever thought twice about trying to venture into a monster infested dungeon. This dangerous activity, or sport depending on who you ask, would be come known as dungeoneering. And soon even Peasants who managed to survive their traps, monsters, and defenses, may raise such a fortune over night. And many noble (And in some cases, Royal) families have lost their heirs, after the one in line to inherit a title renounced his or her nobility to travel to some far corner of the continent in order to look for lost treasures, and take on quests from the very people who were formerly regarded as his or her lessers. The most prominent religion in Estellon, the High Faith (Fosterism) are also divided on the subject. As the four pillars of life are strongly integrated in both culture and their religion, it poses a threat to the way of Estellonian life when the difference between a king, a cleric, a peasant, and a scholastic mage are blurred. Yet those who call themselves adventurers stem from all walks of life. Including many of which who are of the cloth. And yet, many adventures do great deeds for those in peril when no one else will. Are these men and women not worthy of Sol's favor? 

 

Many of the saints worshipped in the high faith were themselves ancient heroes in the days of old who performed vary similar deeds, after all. As debates for and against adventurers and their place in the world permeate like ripples from the actions and successes of adventurers, the sociological shifts created by adventures are (For better or worse) creating a new kind of world. And for all that can be said about them, no one can deny that the adventurers are useful in one regard. For they are on the front lines, fighting back the various superstitions and tapestries of fear which have been woven by those who would prefer to keep certain things hidden. Those of the golden path will tell you that this is necessary. For them, Esmeranda left her song unfinished for a reason. She wanted mortals to decide for themselves how it should subside. And those who have taken the adventurer's path will ride the wave to a dreaming land which refuses to wake. So. What song will they sing of your time spent in Falamore? A heroic psalm? A poem of evil deeds? A comical, yet embarrassing mishap immortalized in a catchy bard's ballad? Or a cautionary tale, warning about the dangers of greed and temptation?