The world is a fragmented, ruined shell of what it once was, and magic is what ensures it

stays that way. In Ages past, before the Night of Prophecy -- when mankind and the other
races of Ainerth were given the chance to meet a sliver of what it was that they had
foolishly called their Gods -- the world followed the rules set out for it at its creation.
Arcanery, in a very generous sense of implying it existed at all, was only a theoretical,
philosophical exercise, conducted in meeting halls and lounges by societies that simply
enjoyed dressing their social circles in a different kind of trapping. It did not exist; not
merely as the world sees it now, in this broken age of horrors, but at all, and when it did
arrive, it did so on the wings of nightmares.

Magic is not some mystical recipe its practitioners follow on a day-to-day basis to casually
manipulate the world around them; while it affects very real results in the world around it,
these results are consequences of another reality being imposed upon ours and causing the
one we live in to shatter, albeit in -- at least hopefully -- a controlled fashion. As far as
scattered records can ascertain, the application of this knowledge came at the hands of the
humans of Ainerth first, as most of their peers and the other races struggled not just to
rebuild but to survive in the lloigor-wracked wasteland that was once a comparatively
peaceful, fertile world. After the Night of Prophecy, rumours of uncovered writings which
allowed real magic, real power, to be channeled through a dedicated practitioner and out
into the world. These writings were collected in an utterly forbidden grimoire that came to
be known as the Black Book, a tome with many speculated origins. Some say the Book is
a legitimately living, sentient other, an alien and conscious entity with unknown and
sinister purpose. Others say that it exists simultaneously in other times, other places, other
worlds, and exists coterminously to spread its influence in the past, present, and future all.

What is incontrovertible, however, is that the following of parsed and translated rituals
found in this book or copies of it has wrought unmistakable horror upon the world and
those in it. While the Night of Prophecy was responsible for the destruction of cities,
towns, and life, the magic found in the Black Book is responsible for the corruption of
what remains and what has been built to try and effect repairs upon those shattered
remnants. While there is real power to be found in the practice of these rituals, the
overwhelming vast majority that even know of the existence of the Black Book are far
from willing to pay the cost of not just their own sanity, but that of their friends, loved
ones, and fellow men. Every so-called spell cast brings Ainerth closer to a tremulous
reality merged with that of wherever the grimoire truly came from, and even amongst the
universally-loathed practitioners, all but the most mad can recognize that that would bode
very, very poorly for our world and those living in it.

Most do not know of the intricacies of magic, of course, but they know enough and have
heard enough of rumours to wish to stamp it out where it exists. People have been strung
up and burned, tied and quartered, even tortured to death over days over mere mention of
 witchcraft, and this is the case through almost all of true civilization. There exist, of
course, esoteric societies, occasional outposts, even whole races of people who feel
differently, but these people are outside of their own universally reviled as destroyers and
corruptors of the highest order, and they are ruthlessly hunted and slain by those who catch
wind of them. Only in the vast, far reaches of the untamed world is this viewpoint ever
relaxed, and even then it would still be a poor idea to reveal oneself -- fear is the most
powerful motivator of violence.
-------------------
Minor Facitons:
Order of the Grey Cabal:
Most people on Ainerth, both city-dwellers and wilderness tribes, are thankfully ignorant of the
alien races and cosmic evils that lurk in the world's hidden places. The secret society known as
the Grey Cabal, however, is not. A band of scholars, priests, and warriors of faith constantly
shore up the world's age-old defenses against forces from beyond the world of Ainerth, fighting a
secret and never-ending war against unthinkable calamity. Few members of the Grey Cabal
remain however, their chapter master and de facto leader Darius Solomon lost himself to
madness - calling upon many of their covenants to convene at their home fortress of Wellfallen.
It was there that he and his maddened priests barred themselves and a majority of the Grey Cabal
behind closed doors as they burnt the fortress down around themselves.
Practitioner of the Black Book (Cultists, Clerics, and Witches):
Arcane magic is not a simple matter of study and practice on Ainerth. Humans are born with no
supernatural powers, of course, and there is no tradition of arcane scholarship among the human
cultures of the continent. To master supernatural powers, a human warlock or mage must turn to
non-human traditions, which involves seeking out a suitable tutor or deciphering the occult
writings of some earlier race...such as the writings found in the Black Book. The Black Book is a
forbidden grimoire filled with secrets not meant for man, passed down through the years from
one adept to another. Some say the Book is alive and aware, an alien entity with a sinister
purpose. Others say that the Book exists in many times and places at the same time. Whatever
the truth, it does not bode well for the denizens of Aineth.
The Iron Circle:
Freebooter, mercenary, sellsword - Ainerth is home to many a bold adventurer or foolhardy
peasant looking to earn his fortune with the edge of a sword. The Iron Circle is a violent and
quarrelsome brotherhood who recognize no law save their own bloody code. It's not unusual for
Iron Legionnaires to serve as mercenaries, taking the gold of one city-state to plunder the trade
of another. Unfortunately, the Circle and its members are notoriously fickle and untrustworthy,
and are quick to change their colors. Individual legionnaires are free to follow any commander
they choose or leave when a better opportunity comes along. The upper echelons of the Iron
Circle are shrouded in secrecy and consist of the Iron Bulwark and their religious leaders the Red
Bishops - many citizens of Mortis believe that the Red Bishops serve a terrible, profane god.
They may be correct.
Clergy of the Infinite:
The priesthoods of Ainerth's finest cities represent a wealthy and powerful social class that
jealously guard its prerogatives and secrets - especially the secrets of priestly magic. Those
individuals who are initiated into the inner circles of a temple hierarchy gain access to powers
that few others understand, but in return they are expected to use their status and their command
of magic to advance the interests of the priesthood...and, if possible, the deity Ein Sof - The
Infinite.

"Foundation. The bedrock beneath existence. The fertile soil, impregnated by moonlight."

"Light dances atop the earth. Where it touches, cinder-soft turf is upturned and exposes this
planet to the Sephirot. At midnight a precious conversation takes place between Malkuth and
Yesod under the gaze of a hooded moon and we are the words. Our story continues to scrawl
itself across the world, forever."
The Blackhand:
Thieves' guilds are a fact of life in any major settlement, but the darkened streets of Gifhorn is
home to guilds numbering hundreds of thieves. These huge organizations are stronger than all
but the richest and most powerful noble houses of other cities, and Gifhorn guildmasters think
nothing of giving orders that will be obeyed by men and women a thousand miles away. To
belong to a guild of Gifhorn is to belong to an army of vicious, conniving cutthroats, an army in
which one can climb through the ranks by one's wits, daring, and record of success. While guild
members constantly scheme for influence and position, they are quick to close ranks when some
external foe insults the guild or damages its operations. After the arrival of the unspeakable one,
Gifhorn was crushed under the weight of paranoid lords and maddened nobles. Even the thieves
guilds suffered greatly and as a result many of them fell to ruin. Throughout it all, The
Blackhand is one of the only guilds left standing. Numbering in the tens instead of the hundreds
at this point. They fight to reclaim what little of Gifhorn they can, a losing battle if there ever
was one.