Long ago, a great god forged this world from iron and gold, and bound it together with his lifeblood. This great god’s name has been lost irretrievably to the annals of History… Or the librarian lost the book. He’s had trouble pulling it together lately, y’know? Either way, this god was a god of the forge, and looked upon his majestic world with great glee- but felt empty, as no being yet existed that could appreciate its splendor,other than him. Thus, he bent over this world, and formed all forms of life from his very flesh. All were present: humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, demons, halflings, gnomes, lizardmen, and so on. He watched these first emmisaries of life explore their new world with joy… Which then turned into exasperation when they died because he hadn’t put in an atmosphere yet.
After putting in an atmosphere, this powerful god finished his great work (again), and for some strange reason, left. However, he left other deities in his stead: beings of grace and strength to guard and lead the beings of his creation. Unfortunately, most turned out to be jackasses, and their followers turned on the others. As the evil hordes spilled across the realm, all hope seemed lost. Just then, the magnificent god who created this grand realm came back!
Mortified by their actions, the great Unnamed God chastised his younger brothers and sisters, saying ,"What kind of crazy bollocks have you sods been up to!?" Bending down, he heard the terrible anguish of his people, begging him to help them. Thus, he took out his great hammer, and split off a small piece of his great world: the last remaining strip of resistance worshipping the good gods. He thus dubbed this land "Kalos." He then dubbed the other land, the evil one, "Hamartia." He then left once more, but first, he forged a great blade of immense power and grace- the only weapon in existence capable of slaying a god. He then waved in front of the assembled gods, stating, "Oh, want it, do ya? Well, too bad! I leave for FIVE MILLENIA, and you’ve already wrecked the place! I will encase it within a great crystal tomb, that will only open at a time of great magnitude, and when a hero pure of heart comes to take it for the forces of good." One of the assembled gods then stated, "Ah, sir? There aren’t really any people quite THAT good. I mean, I’m a decent guy, I think, and even most of my followers are pillocks." The Unnamed God then sighed, and grumbled, "Alright, alright! Let’s just make someone who won’t go on a rampage, okay? We all happy? Good, let’s do this." And so he did.
As time went on, the followers of the Dark(er) Gods on Hamartia, now known as the Fringe Lands on Kalos, butchered each other in foul rituals and overzealous warfare, while the people of Kalos prospered. Before long, though, the people of this blessed land began to long for their old world. The pined for its great oceans, its misty forests, and its grand mountains. As such, they began to research ways to travel through space, and developed a number of magic vessels to travel along the short distance between Hamartia and Kalos. Once there, these pioneers established kingdoms, and explored the land, opening footholds for the flood of adventurers to come.
This was 200 years ago, but danger remains. The valleys of the Fringe Lands brim with ancient evils, remaining sects of cultists attack those who practice the ways of Good, and as the greats drums of war beat, they summon the very dregs of society to fight in them- merciless cutthroats who care not for god or nation, but only about women and loot. In these days, adventurers strong of arm and brave of heart are worth their weight in gold… especially due to the rumors of the return of the Dark(er) Gods….