The following is doctrine held to account for the creation of Verd by the Universal Faith:

Before all else, there was the spirit, and from it all things came forth. Little is known of the spirit, save that it has two faces: Erus, the aspect of creation, and Mal, the aspect of pride. All that is and has ever been, Erus created, and for untold ages Erus was the genesis of world after world, universe after universe. In each of these, however, Mal found fault and damned the realities Erus made to the Crypt to dwell in nothingness. That was until Erus brought into being Verd and made man from the sand and stone. To mankind, Erus gave a mind to create and destroy, making them in this way reflective of the spirit. After testing the first men and women (who would become the 12 Saints of Man), Mal saw imperfection, but potential, and so Verd was not damned, but preserved.

Regardless of how Verd came into being, it stands as a land with a long and storied history, filled with mighty empires, ambitious kings, heroes, and reckonings.

To start, the word ‘Verd’ refers to both the continent over which the Cryptstorm rages, and the planet itself, as in 316 CR no other continents were yet known by those deciding the names of things. Summed up, the continent covers an area of about 4,000,000 square miles (including the large coastal islands and Urbania) and is home to an indeterminant population (though the number likely is around 30,000,000 souls). These precious few, the remnants of three centuries of war, are the citizens of the three extant western realms (Ancondi, Bahenia, and Urbania), and the members of the Duskvolk tribes who call the eastern reaches home. Other than these pockets of civilization, there is only the wasteland of Daemon Country- a wilderness dotted with the ruins of the old world and swarming with the unending horde of daemons that pour out of the Cryptstorm.

Speaking of the Cryptstorm, the constantly raging hurricane of eldritch energy hovering above the center-north of Verd is the source of the world’s ruin. From the roiling tumult comes forth the daemon, and with each flash of its magic lightning a new legion is born. While the exact source of the Cryptstorm is unknown, or is lost to history, it is thought that it is the result of ambitious wizards of old, exploring where they shouldn’t have. Whether intending to or not, it is believed- or at least taught by those of the faith- that these wizards, using powerful and terrible magic, ventured into the Crypt itself and opened the gateway that is the storm. So earthshattering an event was the opening of the Cryptstorm that the common calendar was remade around it, with years being reckoned relatively to the advent of the storm (this is called Cataclysmic Reckonning).

With the storm came the daemon, which flooded forth by the million. All variety of Argerkin (which is the term used by most Verdians to refer to daemons) invaded and destroyed the kingdoms of old, laying waste to the land and killing anyone unfortunate enough to be washed over by the tide. Though universally reviled, it should be noted that not all Argerkin are, in fact, hostile bloodthirsty beasts. In reality, the creatures born of the storm are a broadly diverse group. Such is the random nature of the storm that one bolt of eldritch energy might spawn a hundred thousand cow-like herbivores, while the next brings into being a horde of many-mouthed, violent abominations. This distinction is lost on most Verdians, who revile and attack daemons on principal alone.

Having fought against the daemon for more than three centuries, and with the hardship of war being a constant, life in the Verdian Realms is tough, demanding, and often tragically short. Nearly every element of society is geared towards ensuring the continued survival of humanity- agriculture and industry exist to keep the armies fed and supplied, and the needs of every other group falls secondary. This is a sad necessity of life, for if the daemon is not kept at bay, the world will burn.

As one could expect, constant existential threats weigh heavily upon the psyche of the population, and as a result the Verdian peoples have learned to cope in their own ways. Many turn to religion for comfort, with faith promising rest for the fallen and encouraging righteous deeds. Others fight for the hope of a glorious past restored or out of a desire for adventurism. No matter the reason, each and every Verdian has something they are fighting for- something that keeps them from succumbing to the harsh reality of daily life.

Yet, despite the losses that have been suffered over the years, the future offers some hope to those who would chance to believe it. Very slowly at first, yet more rapidly with each year, it seems as though the storm may be dying. With each new season the reach of its eldritch bolts retreats just a little, giving rise to the hope that one day, soon or in many years, the magic which fuels the Cryptstorm may fail, ending the dark reign of the daemon on Verd. In the meantime, however, the land is yet under siege and the war rages on.