SOLO RP World of Aereos: Urban Legend


Neko Smasher of Iwaku's Walls
Original poster
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
Online Availability
Florida Time: 5:00 PM
Writing Levels
  1. Give-No-Fucks
  2. Intermediate
  3. Adept
  4. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Primarily Prefer Male
Anime, Fantasy, Post-Apocalyptic, Action/Adventure, and Dark. Sometimes I like to do Edgy things, but it has to be played out right to work for me.
Three generations before the start of our story the apocalyptic event that reshaped the very mechanisms of the world occurred. The event was known as Heavenfall by its survivors due to the fact that a strange energy, unlike any natural phenomena that could be explained, struck the earth repeatedly. The strikes themselves were silent and moved so fast that they appeared like a constant stream of energy rather than as separate blasts. They devastated anything around them like a series of nuclear warheads. By the time any living being could figure out what could cause this threat they stopped.

The end of the world seemed to have ended, but it had only begun. Far off on an island continent a statue suddenly appeared from one of these flashes of light. It depicted a fearsome humanoid monster with tendrils crawling out of his back and into the world beneath him as if to support him, larger than any skyscraper, and a man just as big had, but with a sword just inches from piercing the monster's heart. From the open mouth of the monster a haze started to cover the earth in one last attempt to destroy the precious creation of its enemy. The haze's effects were unpredictable. It was like every possible horrible thing you could imagine just manifesting randomly and it did not move slow. It covered the world quickly and got its teeth in everything.

Animals and plants mutated into deadly creatures of the night. Humans themselves started to mutate into hideous creatures of the darkness. Before the miasma could become too dangerous the remaining pantheon of gods decided to make themselves known to the world. They used their own magical power to suppress and contain the miasma, but they could not destroy or reverse its effects. Had the threat been something beneath them then a wave of the hand would have been enough, but considering this was a power that rivaled their brother, their king, not even they could handle this passively. Instead they imbued their power into statues and the races of man to act as living barriers against the miasma. This did come with its costs.

The pantheon of gods was a diverse group of man-like beings and by bestowing their awesome power on the weak mortals they changed them beyond a cellular level. They changed them at their souls. The first subjects died almost instantaneously, but were allowed to experience the excruciating pain of death before being revived. This was the birth of the magic of mortals. Unlike gods they could not store all of their power in their own souls, they were too weak, but they could distribute it through their minds, bodies, and souls. Still even this division changed the humans, but at least they were alive is what the gods thought.

Depending on where the humans received their power from changed how they appeared and certain traits they took on, but it always was reminiscent of the god or goddess who bestowed that power upon them. After this was done the gods vanished. For a long time there was only constant war and bickering that also led to being slaughtered by the unknown beasts plaguing the world, but once the mortal races had finished killing each other and cursing the gods they could focus on survival.

That has not changed.