I've finished the summary of the world, but right now I'm not very happy with how it's written, nor have I actually named the world yet. Expect this to change soon
Summary of the world
Before the Clan Wars, our world was peaceful. Gentle, rolling hills, or forests with a tranquil atmosphere. Jungles with light, warm rain, and grasslands with gentle breezes. Serene lakes that cool springs bubbled from. Those calm, peaceful lands that held the countless gallons of spilt blood. Peaceful. Even now, with wars raging across every nation, this world is peaceful compared to its origin.
Long ago, our world was naught but raging seas, and skies so black it always appeared to be night, with no light save for the brief flashes of violent lightning, followed by the crash and rumble of thunder. What little life that existed clung to the hard, rocky ground, even as vicious winds and howling gales tore across the land. Back then, the world was ruled by ancient and massive monstrosities of unspeakable horrors. Creatures bigger than cities that flew through angry thunderheads, controlling the weather as if it were a part of a pack. Leviathans swam through the seas, causing waves that could crush mountains, and behemoths that ruled the land, enormous and bloodthirsty.
Before the Five Races were proud rulers of nations and heads of clans, they were tiny pockets of civilization, or mixed nomadic tribes struggling to live day-to-day. Any other being on the planet could easily destroy the Races. Even the strongest warriors and most cunning hunters could not hope to match one Ancient. Not until the clouds split open for the first time, sending down rays of light to the surface. Then the winds stopped, with the violent and unforgiving storms following soon after. Then the Ancients disappeared. The Five Races split into nations, clans, and tribes, forming their own societies and cultures. For centuries, the world was at peace. It seemed as if there was no limit to the land that could be explored and settled. Until, of course, the Kingdoms were founded. Within the Kingdoms, nobody was allowed to leave the areas known by the respective monarch. Unknown lands were strictly prohibited, and any citizen caught leaving the known lands was executed—exile was not an option.
It went on like that for several hundred years. The Kingdoms became more and more controlling, some more than others. Then came the Founding. Noble houses declared independence, the lands they watched over becoming new nations. Soon, it wasn't only nobles that were seceding. Peasants were forming clans, claiming their villages as new lands. The Clans, as they were now called, controlled every part of the known lands. The monarchs formed their own clans and started campaigns to recruit others in an attempt to reclaim the nations that once belonged to them. As the world's society changed, the borders of the known lands was unchanged. Some clans tried branching out, but were never heard from again. Those that returned from the 'unexplored' told tales of freightening beasts and wicked cultists. Venturing out of the known lands remained a taboo.
Instead, inside of the known lands, clans began to vie for power and land. Thus marked the beginning of the clan wars.
Three hundred years later, the wars still continued, though not to the degree they once did. Strange beasts appeared within the known lands, and the borders shrunk every year. Even the largest and most powerful clans seemed to be withdrawing deep within their borders, allowing few to leave and none to enter. Occasionally, skirmishes broke out and the borders would shift slightly, as the clans fought over farmland. Clouds began to block out the sun more and more, and it seemed that there was almost always a storm raging. Now, almost every day is dark and cloudy, with storms raging. Some have even spoke of massive beasts weaving through the clouds. Whispers of the Ancients returning are becoming more and more common.
The biggest and most powerful clan of mankind, Noblewind was suddenly and inexplicably destroyed one day. The handful of survivors fled to nearby territories, babbling about gargantuan monstrosities that descended from the sky and swallowed up entire castles. Several more clans were swallowed up after that. Rumors of the Ancients' return became fact. The Five Races were powerless once more, dissolving into nomadic tribes that banded together out of necessity.
It seemed as if the Races were not meant to revert to the days when there was no sun, and the world was ruled by the Ancients. Six beams of light pierced through the clouds one day. Where each beam fell, there was an explosion that rocked the world. At the heart of each explosion, was a hero. The Six purified the world, restoring some semblance of order. The Ancients disappeared, then the Six vanished. It was as if the world was on a cycle. Kingdoms formed, the collapsed into hundreds of squabbling clans.
But the memory of the Ancients was never forgotten.
