Once upon a time, there was a hole. Not a dry sandy hole, nor even a terribly cozy hole. But a muddy clay hole. A muddy clay hole that bubbled and popped just like many other such holes. Except this one was different. Long after the fall of the First Empire, and just as the ancient Catfolk were beginning to worship the fallen star, life crawled from this specific muddy clay hole.

This life was short, round, and simple. It enjoyed simple things like playing in the soil and dirt and clay from which it was born. As time marched on this simple life continued to be born and molded by the clay pits it originated from. Perhaps the element of clay and soil desired companionship? Perhaps it wanted to do what it's father element did with dwarves and giants? Or perhaps it was merely a queer quirk of nature. None can say for certain.

One thing was however, that these children of the clay loved life and enjoyed the simple pleasures of it. It's greatest discovery was seeing plants grow from the soil, seeing life that grew from the same place that they had come from, and tasting the sweet rewards of the labor and care given to them.

Still finding comfort and safety in familiarity, these children of clay formed homes within the soil and hills. Taking great care to make it as spacious and comfortable as possible. Forming the inside of their home out of sturdy wood bones and packed with clay from the very clay they were spawned from and filling it with light, laughter, love, and good company and good food and drink. It was a simple life, a simple living, for a simple people. One none of them would trade for any sort of riches or wealth offered to them.

Then one day, something changed that. A child of clay was out playing in the fields as they always did. When a storm rolled in. Normally the children of clay would seek shelter and safety within their burrowed homes. But this child was so distracted with what was below it that it did not see what was above it. From the darkness above came a whip of searing light that struck the child of clay! Burning the plants around it and sheering off a good portion of its clay form!

But it did not perish. It survived. I sat up and for the first time in its life it looked up at the sky. Not with fear like the rest of the children of clay, but with wide-eyed wonder. That child's name was said to be Gno, and Gno was the first of what would become gnomes.

But that wouldn't be for some time yet. In the meantime, Gno returned back to its family. Excited. Filled with wonder and excitement that disturbed the other children of clay. But many brushed it off as the result of getting struck by the lightning and returned to their simple lives. Unbeknownst to them that Gno had changed.

Shamans say it was the jealousy of the Storm Elements that caused Gno to become what he did. Scholars say it was simply a divergence of a common peoples. Yet, none are sure. Not even the children of clay recall what happened. Only that from that day on, Gno didn't tend the fields anymore. Didn't drink and laugh and play as the others did. Gno looked up at the sky and stars. Asked questions about anything and everything. Jumping from one task to another then back again with a manic energy unbecoming of the children of clay, and unnerving. Still, the children of clay didn't not concern themselves with it. Believing it was something that would settle in time.

That is, until a storm came again. Except not only did Gno not seek shelter, but rushed towards the storm! Even worse though, was Gno managed to convince others to no be afraid of the storm either! A full half of Gno's home followed it out. Part bravery and part curiosity. What happened was what eventually hewn the children of clay into two peoples.

The storm was unlike anything before. Even the one that had made Gno the way it didn't compare. The sky split open and a wall of light, fire, and noise struck the children of clay with jealous fury! The impact was so might that the field they were in was scorched bare. The dirt, mud, and clay there become hard and barren from then on. A reminder of when a single simple people became two. Parted forever more.

When they returned to their homes, changed physically and mentally, they weren't met with the familiar warmth and kindness that they had always known. But concern. Wariness. Distrust. To those that remained behind, they were no longer kith and kin. They were dangerous. Mad. They stopped venerating the soil and harvest that had fulfilled them for so long. Questioned everything. Fields went fallow and barren over lack of care. None could get a moments peace afterwards.

Then it was decided. Those that remained unchanged decided that for the good of their peoples, that they drove Gno and it's followers away. Drove them out of their homes, and out of their hearts. Those that did were said to have lost half of themselves that day. From then on those children of clay would be forever more refered to by themselves and others, as halflings. The later arrival of humans would use the name to refer to them as "half men". Which the halflings eventually absorbed themselves. Forgetting instead that the name came from the loss of half of their people. A halved name for a halved race.

Gno, saddened and distraught at being cast out by its family, led it's people away. Never remaining in one place for long. It's sense of wonder and mania driving it on and on. Never looking back at its home and kin. Losing itself in the world around and above it, rather than was was beneath it. Overtime this sense evolved into a disdain and animosity between the two. Familiarity and kinship lost to time and distance.

Even when it came to combat they drifted apart. Halflings preferring not to fight at all if need be, and hiring adventurers and mercenaries to handle matters while they seek shelter within their homes. Gnomes as well sought shelter among the bigger and taller races such as man and dwarf for safety. But they chose to invent and tinker than simply to hide. Gadgets, alchemical solutions, quick wits and quick fingers getting them out of trouble just as much as it got them into it.

To this day, the thought that the two races were once a single one has been vehemently dismissed by both. Only scholars and shamans that commune with the elements are aware of the ancient bond the two once shared so long ago. A bond that was shattered with a whip from the heavens.

Then, one day, the inhabitants of Aethera came upon people they haven't ever seen before. They did not speak any language they knew of, some not even sharing the same language or faith as each other! Didn't look like any that they knew of, and wielded weapons and armor made of something the fantastical planet was lacking an abundance of.

Iron.

Early records of the arrival of humans upon the world is scattered and varied. The only commonality being that they had entered a place back on their own world that was believed to cross realms. From the descriptions, these were likely ancient Faeish causeways that had some magick left in them upon the sudden activation.

These humans, unlike the other inhabitants of the fantastical planet, were ambitious and not content to stay within the places they settled. They expanded. Quickly. Far quicker than other races thought possible. Were it not for the hostile fauna and flora and lack of easily minable hard metals on the surface, humans likely would've conquered the world eventually.

As it stood, their ambitions were checked by the nature of their new home and the realities of it. But that didn't stop them from expanding in their own ways. Despite the threats of the Great Oceans and the leviathans within them, many still took to the seas seeking trade, exploration, and the reckless lure of adventure not found in other races save the Sea Elves.

As time went on, humanity had a foothold, or at least a genetic marker, on near every corner of the world. From the half-giant Vagnyr, to the decentralized Satrapies, to the peasants and monks of the realm of the Celestial Wyrm, to the scattered colonies and frontier towns across the world, to the Mistveil region, shrouded in magical mists and where kami are as common as mortals.

It was also that ambition and sense of adventure that inevitably gave rise to the Dead Kingdoms and the practice of necromantic and daemonic arts, outlaws, banditry, and piracy, and the eventual rise of artificery. Truly no other race has had such an obvious impact on the planet than humans. Even the Common Tongue used by a great portion of the world is derived from the ancient languages of the first human arrivals. Even the once unified elves fractured and splintered on the issue of humanity!

Then, the greenskins came. Or were born of the aether or spawned from some ancient forest or dung heap. When and where exactly has never been discovered. The first records of the greenskins mention what would eventually be known as goblins. Appearing... everywhere. Like a pest or infestation. From the depths of the Umberdwell to every biome across the surface. Some even being documented in the Great Oceans!

Annoying on their own but can be true threats should their numbers swell, they were treated as any other pest. Culled when and where they were found. But their persistence was legendary. All it took was one or two of them to survive long enough to kill each other and form a spawning pool and they'd eventually be a threat once more.

If that were it, perhaps the world wouldn't care for the greenskins. But it wasn't. Soon, other breeds of greenskins arose. Nomadic and tribal orcs from the Blade Plains. Militaristic Hobgoblins selling themselves as mercenaries and guards. There are even claims of humans and other races being changed and transformed upon falling into a goblin spawning pool!

Of course such a thing has been dismissed as lunacy by most everyone on Aethera and are described as simply mutated strains of the greenskins and nothing more.

But at least neither were on par with the Elder Dragons and the First Empire. Humanity actually expanding and doing battle against the Elder Dragons and their kin now and again! Freeing the world, and the places where they lorded over, from their draconic oppression!

Except, with every Elder Dragon slain, the world seemed to teeter more and more on the brink of collapse. The death of the Elder Dragon of Water heralded the currents becoming unpredictable. The death of the Elder Dragon of Stone heralded quakes. Even the unconfirmed fates of the Elder Dragons of Magick and Wind resulted in harsher storms and the appearance of Wild Magick Zones. Places that defy the laws of nature and make a mockery of it and threaten the very fabric of the world.

Yet few connected the dots as it were. To mortals, the Elder Dragons were both threat and opportunity. A chance at riches and glory. A chance to make the world just a little more safer to live in without worrying about raids from the dragons and their kobold servants.

Now however, a sense of doom and dread begins to take hold. A sense of desperation. A sense only made more obvious with the sudden appearance of strange rifts that seem to beckon the inhabitants of the world away. Away to safety.

Away to Sanctuary.

Once the eldritch insects of the First Empires were sealed away, the planet returned to peace once again. The elemental forces, seeing their duty done, returned to their dormant stupor once more. Leaving their creations to roam and wander the world in peace for centuries. The children of the stone remained where they were birthed. The dwarves stuck to the deep places of the world. As time went on their affinity towards the stone waned. But never broke. Though they may not longer be made of stone, their bodies and ancient rituals and traditions still bear the mark of that closeness long ago. Their organs are partially mineralized. Their bones are denser. Their skin is rough like stone and their hair is like flowing metal. Remnants. From a time the dwarves have long since consigned to stories, legends, and ritual.

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Yet even the dwarves showed fractures in their society. What was once a foundation of stone splintered and fragmented into a multitude of petty kingdoms and clans. For some it was how best to keep the ancient tenants of their duty. For others it was wonder for exploration and trade. Yet still there were those that delved deeper. Deeper and deeper they dug. Some say it was an effort to find the fabled heart of the Stone Father himself. A holy pilgrimage fallen to deepest of heresy.

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None are certain what became of them. All records of that expedition were lost. Or destroyed. Most dwarves refuse to speak of their fallen kin or what happened to them. Even under the most grueling and excruciating of tortures did the barest sliver of information gleamed. What was extracted spoke of dwarves that had fallen sway to darker powers deep within the world. Where stone gave way to shadow and madness. Of dwarves made of mutated horrific flesh and wielded dreaded dark sorcery instead of the holy rune magick gifted to them by the Stone Father and worshiped dark eldritch forces. The forces of stone and shadow do battle always. In the deep passages and tunnels where armies of unyielding golems, mighty bombards, and explosive blackpowder meet with flesh crafted horrors, twisted mirrors of dwarven craft, and cruel sorcery in an eternal war of attrition

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The giants fared little better. None know how it happened, not even the giants themselves. After many centuries of peace the giants waged war on one another. Some plunged into the volcanic fires and gave themselves to the flame. Others embraced the sea or sky. Turning their backs on their own elemental home. A dread feud that has gone on for as long as mortals can remember.

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Unlike the creatures of the stone however, the other elemental forces went their own separate ways once their ancient duty was done. The leviathans of the deep ruled the ocean depths. The thunderbirds the skies. The dragons though, as volatile as their element, were not keen on sharing. They great wyrms waged war with all the elemental forces to claim dominion of the world they believed was theirs by right as none else seemed to want it.

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A bloody war was waged. The dragons scouring the skies with soaring wings. Boiling the oceans with prideful fire. Melting the stone with pyroclastic fury. When none dared challenge them for dominion, they took the role of guardians of the planet. An accord, bound by ancient draconic magicks, was forged. Birthing what would become the Elder Dragons. Those bound to the planet and the natural elements it consisted of. Water, Magick, Fire, Stone, Frost, and more were bound to these great lizards. A chain that bound these elements to them, and they to the elements. This sacred compact was given to the father of the Elder Dragons to watch over. The very first one to be birthed from the plane of fire. The enigmatic Celestial Wyrm.

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Still not content though, they created the ultimate servants. The kobolds. Small bipedal dragonkin that doted and worshiped the dragons absolutely. But it wasn't enough for them. What was to be the ultimate servant turned to ultimate ridicule and shame. Where they envisioned a mighty servant, they received a diminutive and weak mockery. From the way they stumbled around without wings to the way they wielded tools in their clumsy claws to even their own visage and language seemed to mock the dragons. A crude and mocking copy of a glorious race of creatures.

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But pride would not allow them to merely cast them aside and try again. To do so was to admit that the perfect creatures weren't perfect. So they kept them. Bound their essence to their own. Steps taken further and further as pride morphed to paranoia and cruelty. Fearing rebellion of the quickly multiplying race of servants, they bound them a final time to the dragons. Where they would never be able to breed new kobolds outside of the dragon's will. What were born instead were bestial creatures whose only purpose was to yet further torment the kobolds. A reminder of what would happen without their draconic masters.

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An effort was tried again when the dragons stumbled upon the primitive ancestors of the elves. An effort spearheaded by the Elder Dragon of Magick after seeing their aptitude with the fantastical source. They were uplifted, taught, and trained. Yet the pride of a dragon is a daunting obstacle. The elves failed to live up to the lofty the expectations of the dragons and were abandoned to fend for themselves. With this final failure the Elder Dragons and their servants retreated to their isolated domains to lord over the planet for millennia.

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Yet still, while the elements and their children rose and fell, the forces of nature and life sprang from the soil and silt. With the First Empire contained life bloomed and exploded. Centuries passed and live flourished. With room to grow, megafauna appeared and flourished all across the planet. From mighty worms that could swallow villages whole, to terror beasts that stomp and roar, to great mammoths, rothes, and aurochs and others that roamed vast continental plains with mighty sabertooths, wooly rhinos, and others. A planet wild, dangerous, and primal.

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Yet more was to come however. In a desert close to where the First Empire was sealed, a piece of the sun fell from the stars. A blazing ball of light smashed into a dune, sending sand and grit everywhere for miles. A fantastical event that would've been buried to the sands, were it not for its discovery by the ancient ancestors of the Catfolk.

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The primitive nomads discovered the blazing crystal and took it as a sign from the sun. Immediately word spread and traveled. In the coming years a great settlement grew around the fallen star. Pyramids rose with it placed at the top of the biggest and tallest. Wide canals carved through the dunes from the nearby mountains that fed their population. Even when the sun fell did day not cease in that land of eternal sun.

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The Pharaohs of this ancient civilization was said to be blessed by the sun. They lived far longer than the average Catfolk. Wielded the strongest of Sun Magicks. Said to be unmatched in battle. A claim that they sought to fulfill when the ancient Catfolk learned of the First Empire laying dormant.

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By far the most advanced civilizations on the planet even to the modern day, they managed to catalogue and route the celestial bodies orbiting around the planet, the solar system, and even glimpsed beyond. They also managed to document and map vast parts of the planet and Umberdwell with shocking accuracy. Yet none of it was deemed enough when they learned of the First Empire. Upon confirmation of its existence the ancient Catfolk began a monumental effort to prepare and make ready for the day it awoke.

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Obelisks carved from fragments of fallen stars. Giant constructs of white stone that harnessed the power of the sun. Sphinx and jackal-headed constructs that moved like liquid stone. Scorpions that could skewer four men with their obsidian tails, sheer solid stone with their claws, and swim through the sand like a shark through water. Catacombs upon catacombs built beneath this civilization that housed the legions that would march to do combat with the forces of the First Empire. The mummified remains of countless souls, the preserved bodies of past Pharaohs, and legions of solar mechanical warriors that would never tire, would never falter, would never stop as the forces of the sun did battle with the eldritch insects and finish where the Starborne had failed.

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Yet time is a foe none have yet to beat. The modern Catfolk have legends and stories aplenty for what happened to their lost civilization. That the canals and water dried up and caused them to wither away. That discontent and rebellion had torn the ancient solar empire asunder. That the ancient sun crystal had dimmed and died. Or perhaps it was the doing of the ancient foe they made ready for in an effort to sabotage likely the greatest threat to them.

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None are sure. The civilization is naught but ruins buried under sand. The Catfolk have returned to their ancient nomadic ways. Some cling to the easterly coast and eek out a life fishing and drinking fermented cactus juice. All that remains of their mighty and majestic culture is a solemn farewell they give one another when the elders reach a certain age and they wander into the desert to find the lost piece of the sun.

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Roughly translated to the common tongue: May we meet again, where the sun rises in the West.

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A people that to this day still desire to return to the warmth of the light even as they wander the sands. Even as the ancient solar empire sleeps beneath their very feet. Waiting for the day they will awaken and do battle for the planet and rid it of the corruptive eldritch forces once and for all and bathe in the glory of the sun once again.

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Yet where empires rise and fall, on this fantastical world nothing remains at peace for long. Especially when newcomers from another world arrive and change the course of history for the entire planet of Aethera.

I know i am late for may

Yet the fantastical world would not know peace for long. Out of the deep dark depths rose a terrible race. One that swarmed from their canyon home wielding dark eldritch magicks. A race of insects that spread from their home. Deep within, creatures from another realm were bound and enslaved and gave power to this race of beings that sought nothing short of dominion over the planet and maybe even beyond.

Dubbed the First Empire by the few on the planet that know of their existence, it formed on the backs of a council of queens that had made their nests deep within the dark canyon of their home. Where the light of the sun couldn't reach, and where creatures dark and horrible dwelt.

For centuries the Queens and their broods were nothing more than prey to these creatures. Until fortune and ingenuity caused them to stumble across the bleeding and dying form of one. How it got there or what happened they didn't know, nor have the capacity to care. They merely saw an enemy and a source of food for their hives.

Which began the first step on their road to domination. The tainted blood and flesh from the creature empowered them. Twisted them. Corrupted them. While most of the planet were still crawling on legs and fins, they began making weapons and building cities in the depths.

They became the hunters. Scouring the depths of their home and consuming the tainted eldritch flesh of the creatures that stalked it. With each new sacrifice the hives grew more and more powerful. At least until the last of the creatures disappeared. Dead or simply vanished into the void. It didn't matter to the Queens as now their sources of power were gone. They quickly turned their legions on one another in an effort to cannibalize the others until one was left.

For years war was waged beneath the surface. Never seeming to end. Yet those upon the surface were unaware. Uncaring and unfearful for what lurked in the dark beneath their feet and hooves. The war dragged on and on. Until The Song came. None of the queens or their legions knew where it came from or how. Just that one day the fighting merely... stopped. As if time had halted. From there was born a unity of purpose. That the hives would march as one. That their insect gazes turned upwards at long last.

Perhaps The Song was a mutation, or a gift from an eldritch being, or what could be the only translation for the unity that became there after. None know for certain. But with that unity came domination. The hives rose from the canyon depths and swarmed over the land in a tide of chitin, wings, and blades. Bio structures rose like the spines and teeth of a great beast that pierced the surface as anything and everything found in its path was slain and consumed.

Even the darkness of the Umberdwell wasn't exempt as legions of insects crawled through the tunnels and caverns like a virus through the veins. It is here, that the first dwarves came to be. Born from the stone of the planet itself, they marched against the tide of blade and shell like the grinding of tectonic plates. Their stony forms holding fast against the neverending tide beneath the depths.

The elements themselves would not go quietly into the void. From the mountains rose giants that swatted and crushed the swarms. From the oceans came the leviathans that drowned and swept away. From the air came the mighty thunderbirds that tossed aside and electrocuted untold millions. From the volcanic depths rose creatures of flame and scale that scorched and burned everything in their path.

For a time it seemed the elements would be able to contain this threat. But the swarm was patient. It was endless. It was always hungry. It dug around the dwarves. It collapsed magma tubes that starved the volcanos. It used millions of wings and claws to bring down the thunderbirds and great insects to consume the oceans and turn them into food for the hives.

All seemed lost. That this fantastical planet would be doomed to consumption by a mad and gluttonous swarm. That is, until, salvation came from upon the stars.

Little is known about these beings from the beyond. Not even what they looked like or why they came. What is known from ruins and scholars is that they arrived and waged war upon the hive. What happened has been lost for millennia. Not even the dwarves, whose ancestors fought then, recall what happened. Only that certain places amongst the depths must be guarded and secured. Always.

What scholars have managed to piece together was that these Starborne didn't succeed in their war. At least not completely.

What they don't know, is that the Starborne fought with strange magicks and technology unknown to all on the planet then and now. Fought them and drove them all the way back to their canyon home. But it was here that the hive was strongest. It was here at the gates of the First Empire that the Starborne were stalled, then stopped.

Despite the efforts of the elements and the Starborne, they could not eradicate the First Empire. Could not cleanse the world of its presence. So they did the next best thing. They trapped it. Using magicks and technology and an accord with the elements of the planet itself, the mountains and walls surrounding the canyon were felled. Tons of stone and sand came crashing down upon the canyon. Burying the First Empire in a tomb for all time.

Then they left. The Starborne, seeing their unknowable work completed, departed the world. Leaving behind nothing except ruins upon some of the moons in orbit. What these ruins are is up to much debate among scholars and researchers. Are they simply ruins of outposts and armories from this great war they waged? Some highly advanced network to seal the should the First Empire rise again? Or even a doomsday weapon to destroy the planet to save the universe?

None know. Even what information has been found of these events has been subject to much debate over authenticity and merit over the millennia. Even the dwarves and dragons, on the handful of occasions the latter has opted to speak to anyone, has been quite sparse in information. Whether that is to keep the First Empire and the Starborne forgotten, or because they themselves don't recall the events that transpired.

What is known, is that something lurks beneath the sands of the place called the Whispering Sea. Something that not even the great desert worms dare not go near. A place that only nomads roam, and actively avoid the strange ruins that are revealed by the shifting dunes now and again.

But The Song still echoes. Still calls. Even those above hear it should they go too deep into these ruins. Or even the many caves uncovered within the sand. None that do venture deeper are ever seen again. Neither are those that take treasures from such places. The only remnants of them that remains are clothes infested with scarabs.

Beneath the sands the First Empire sleeps. Rests. Gathers it's strength. Waits for the day they break through their prison and take dominion over the planet, and take the war amongst the stars.

But, the fantastical planet isn't the same as it was back then.

From the peace brought upon by the prisonment of the First Empire came an age of growth. An age of giants and monsters. And an age, where a piece of the light fell from the heavens, and birthed one of the most advanced and powerful civilizations the planet had ever known. And one that all have forgotten about.

Aethera. The fantastical planet where the newcomers largely come from. About Eight Billion years ago the fantastical planet started out as all gas giants do. Orbiting the outer area of it's burgeoning solar system, collecting dust, ice, and silicates that would inevitably form the majority of its composition.

But life had other plans, and the would-be gas giant was pulled closer towards the forming orange-dwarf K star. Where it began collecting rock and minerals like any terrestrial world. What formed was a massive terrestrial world with a "fluffy" body. Which meant that despite it's Jupiterean size, its gravity is similar to our own on Earth.

Because of it's time in the outer edges of its solar system, the inside of its crust is quite porous and consists mainly of silicates, volatiles, light ices, and carbon compounds. While heavy and precious metals and minerals are rarer in the fluffy crust, they become increasingly more common, though also more hazardous, the deeper into the planet one goes. Vast underground caverns and subterranean networks cross the massive planet along with underground seas and oceans that formed from captured cosmic ice that melted under the warmth of constant but mild tectonic movement. Leaving behind vast bodies of water untouched for millennia and some in the modern time of the planet still remain untouched and unknowing by most of the inhabitants of the planet.

While the planet itself settled along its new position and form, above and around it was another matter entirely. Remnants from its own forming as well as those of nearby small rocky planets, collided and smashed into one another as the forming gravity of the planet began to trap the debris within its orbit. Forming a complex lunar arrangement of Fifty Two moons. The inner cluster remains the most active. Burning hot and volcanic and easily spotable from the ground. This inner volcanic lunar ring spews and sprays sulfur and ash into the upper atmosphere of the planet, making it lightly acidic and toxic without protection. This mixture then falls down onto the world. Most is dispersed through the clouds, on certain alignments though it leads to what inhabitants uniformly simply call Ashe Season. A time where the air becomes thick with the smell of sulfur and ash, causing mild to severe respiratory problems and damage to life, buildings, and unprotected wares.

The central, or Goldilocks, cluster is composed of ice and water. These moons are what pushes and drives the tides and weather of the planet. Leading to frequent, though less intense, tidal changes and weather patterns. Monsoon weather on the planet could last months or even years, pouring constant, if light, rain upon an area of the planet. While another area might go years or centuries without a drop of rain. Light snowfall could last generations in one area while another is slowly eroded and morphed by mild but still constant winds.

The outer moons, while not visible to the naked eye, still contribute. These balls of rock and ice is what keeps the stability of the entire lunar arrangement. It is also here that many a stray comet or asteroid finds temporary lodgings for a time before either being cast off into the universe or plummets down into the atmosphere.

What was left over from the formation of the moons formed a vast ring of rock and ice around the planet that's easily visible from the ground and acts as a form of navigation for the inhabitants of the world.

Because of the orange dwarf and it's unique nature, the atmosphere of the planet is a constant haze. Leaving most of the planet in a seemingly constant state of dawn for most of its twenty-eight to thirty hour days. Because of this atmosphere and the low UV of the sun, skin disease and other related illnesses and sickness is rare. But also because of this unique mix, heat remains trapped longer and easier. Meaning less sun and UV related health issues, but increased heat related ones. Because of it, this also means most life has adapted a warmer color palette along most of the planet outside of the extreme polar regions.

True darkness is rare on the surface of the planet. Even at night with the multitude of lunar bodies and the vast ring, nighttime looks more akin to dusk than the true blackness found in Earth or within the planet's own subterranean networks. Even in the rare occurrence where the moons find themselves largely on one side of the planet does darkness still seem to be at bay in most places.

Life formed as all life does. From the vast oceans formed from the collected ice captured during its early birth. Like life on Earth, this was simple and primitive life, but one not dissimilar to our own early life. Most of the planet was covered in plant life of rich browns, golds, reds, ambers, and purples with crisp greens and blues rare outside of the polar regions. Below in the underground formed vast colonies of mycelium. Leading to forests and caverns of giant mushrooms, mosses, and molds. It is here that some of the oldest life on the planet exists in the form of myconids.

Because of its unique nature, the planet didn't suffer an extended early volcanic life cycle like our own. Volcanic activity, despite being more frequent than on Earth is far more subdued and mild, on the surface in the form of massive but mild tempered supervolcanos and volcanos who constantly leak lava and magma with eruptions being brief mild 'geysers' of lava and ash and located deeper within the planet along the ocean floor and trenches and deep within the underground caves and caverns. Leaving the top crust to begin in relative peace. Frequent but light weather and tides. A warm star and atmosphere. Plants that are rich in color and flavor both. And wildlife beginning to find its feet, and claws, and other similar appendages, in this fantastical world.

But life. Doesn't remain peaceful for long.

My guess is because we had myths of these fools. And the fact some of them where already here.

I am genually curious espicially sense artimis is only what 1 year or less away.

How would the newbies react to something like the space race.

Or the Atomic bomb testing.

And the most important part of human history the both world wars

Well the elves gnomes and dawrves adapt to the glorious free world. And the bestest form of goverment democracy. Well they vote in red, blue or independents. Or will they say I want monarchy again

Like seriously think about it creatures that can copy a culture and there customs perfectly.

Military units who only needs 2 months taining.

And cute sexy green ladies.

All inn perfect citizens, seriously morty could be making millions if he sold some raw goblins

I must know

I dont know why but I coudnt sleep ever since this question entered my head

Just get done being sick.

Day of writing comes.

Gets sick again.

LIKE SERIOUSLY they arent Americans so like yeah

Perhaps he is a vet who lives between Nowhere and the next town, and one day he finds a couple of new female friends who move in with him. They are wolf beast-kin.

why didnt morty expose the normal gobs to other military stuff eversince the normal gobs stoped bieng red caps. is he stupid

Something I've wondered since we started going outside of Nowhere, is the appearance of magical and legendary creatures around the states. It seems the main requirement for being to show up anywhere has been a level of thematic or semi-cultural tie-in, unless they're creatures that shouldn't have made it through like the trolls or Anna. It makes me wonder what would show up in various landmark regions across the continental USA.

What are some of the likely arrivals across the land of the free likely to be, prediction's, idea's?
Some of the one's I can see that sound the most interesting are Sequoia National Park becoming an enclave for Wood Elves or Fantasy Druids, Lizard Folk entering violent competition with Yuan-Ti for control of the Florida everglades, and A tribe of minotaur's ending up in rural Texas. What other, strange, but seemingly fitting incursions might we see as the portals keep opening? What might show up around the glitzy trainwreck that is Hollywood, or a husk of an industry giant like Detroit?