The Crown of the Otherborn

This is the best of times. After the Rose Wars ended, the various states sought change. Schools of thought traveled from state to state, advising the lords and putting their ideals into practice. The rigid social order began to shift, and an unprecedented liberation of thought was underway. A storm of political and military reform was about to sweep across the world. Exploration, pioneering, courage, and ambition defined this era.

This is the worst of times. In a world deeply shaken by the Green Tide, honor and chivalry had entered their final decline, centuries after those great deeds. Debate and duels could no longer resolve the many problems of the age, and a shadow forged of iron and blood quietly spread across the world.

This is an age of miracles. Warships broke through the oceans, wondrous engines tore across the skies, spellcasters left their towers, and legends rose from the shadows of civilization.

This is the eve of war, the prelude to a great age. The golden Mountain Lord slumbers with one eye open, the Apostles of Dawn have yet to awaken, the Silver Empress quietly gathers strength, and the Khan of the Blazing Sun lies low, watching coldly.

The Green Tide, the Frost Furnace, the Blood Feast, the Scarlet Ball...

Disasters capable of tearing the world apart are still only in their infancy.

Roland, who had transmigrated here, carried his simple convictions into this great upheaval, one no one could stand apart from, and reached out to seize fate by the throat.