Gnoskos

Gnoskos is a land of sudden changes. Vast, rolling plains give way to sheer mountain heights. Deserts dip into lush river valleys. Fertile fields, thick with the autumn harvest, lie mere feet away from blasted wasteland. Not even the sky is safe, as storms rise suddenly and without warning.   The people of Gnoskos seem to have internalized this.   Their history is a series of long, static semi-peace, broken up by sudden, drastic, violent change. The Vannic Collapse gave way to the Lost Age, which was ended by The Rise of the Veille. The Empire Age ended with The Sundering Revolts, so on down the line until we come to now. The Age of Honor.   But winds are changing once again. The scent of a coming storm is in the air.   The noble lannic warrior has stood in the sun for too long, cast their shadow too far. The peasants living in their shade are talking. Writing. Planning.   The pollises of Veillemyson and Portaisakt look at their petty kings and queens in wonder. What god placed them over us? By what right do they rule?   Even along the banks of the Great River, where people bow towards the Holy Mountain thrice a day for a thousand years, people are finding a stiffness in their back. They say, they've finally grown a spine...   A pall has settled over the known world. Is it a storm? Or the darkness before a new dawn?