Lodbraen, Capital of Lodr, Year of Light 1204
Another quiet, boring day, in a quiet, boring city. Ages ago, now, the Priests of Light had learned how to scrub the darkness and desire from the hearts of Man. Peace had descended across the lands, as lust, greed, envy, and sloth slowly evaporated from the United Empire. Paradise had returned. Yet, even so, Borand knew, there was something wrong, but he could not name it. And so, the acolyte forgot it. Until he came. And his words seared themselves into Borand’s soul, and they burned his mind and at at his spirit, until all aflame with the passion his elders had worked so hard to exinguish, Borand screamed, "WE ARE MEN, NOT CATTLE!"
And at every turn, he was there at Borand’s side, teaching him to resist, to fight, to win. And when the flames of revolution began to subside, fully ten years later, he held out his hand, and said, "Before every dawn, a dusk. Before every dusk, a dawn. You have shown your worth, Brother Borand, and now, it is time for you to repay your debt to us." "Yes. Let us go, and shake the worlds."
Faraoin, the Darklands, the 25th year of His Rule
The rain leaked down into the slave pit, the way it always did. Tiroi never noticed it. She was too busy weeping. Her mother and elder sister, the last of her family, had been taken from the pit, for the ‘Dark Lord’s private service’. Women never returned from this, she knew. She could only weep for them, not even bothering to scrabble for the slops when the guards threw it down over the slaves.
And then, she saw him. A being who may have been made of light, for all she knew. He looked at her, and said, "Come, child. You will lead your people to freedom." And he taught her to sneak and to hide, to use the knife and the poison, to pick any lock and escape any trap. And to lead. And when the Dark Lord lay bleeding at her feet, she smirked down on the Lord, and her companion nodded. "You have shown your worth to us, Sister Tiroi, and now, it is time for us to repay your debt to us." "Yes. Let us go, and shake the world."
Hangebod, House of Coin, 874 Y.Q.
Yes. Every coin in the realm may as well belong to Hange now. It had been so much work, but he’d taken the theives guild, controlled the tax collectors, blackmailed the merchant’s guild, yes. It was all his now, the strands of his spider web laws even stronger than the kings. He was so glad she had taught him. Nothing could happen without his appro… No! Not possible! Hange owned the assassin’s guild outright! "Guard! Guard!" Where was that lazy slug?!? As the blood dripped across the pile of coins, the assassin smiled. "You failed in your duty, Hange. Your debt to us is now repaid. Now I go, to shake the worlds." And she vanished.
The Brotherhood of Dusk and Dawn
Patronized by the Gods of Change and Chaos, the purpose of the Brotherhood of Dusk and Dawn is very simple. They exist to upset the man-induced order of societies, bringing revolution wherever it is needed in the eyes of their gods, both good, and evil. In return, the Gods feed upon the change their agents cause, a kind of powerful worship.
In general, they choose to raise up a local, teaching him or her to use their natural abilities to their finest, and to lead. The price is typically to join the Brotherhood once the revolution has taken hold. Those that fail to bring change are slain, or better yet, strangled with the webs of their own machination.
It is important to note that there is no structure whatsoever to the Brotherhood. They have no permanent pecking order, no dues, no laws, and in truth, no real name they call themselves, only the name that outsiders call them. He who is most fit for a thing, acts.