Orodorn, a realm fractured by ancient cataclysms, exists in a perpetual state of twilight, its peoples haunted by the remnants of forgotten empires. Once a world teeming with life and magic, Orodorn now finds itself adrift in what scholars and mystics call "The Black Dream." This dream is not just a metaphysical state but a palpable reality — a shadow that creeps into the hearts of its inhabitants, distorting memory and blurring the line between dream and waking life. The most ancient of beings, such as the high elves of Quesaneloth, speak of a time when the skies were brighter, the gods more present, and magic ran wild, but now even they struggle to recall the fullness of that age.

The landscape of Orodorn is as varied as its history, from the northern mountains ruled by giants and barbarians to the vast forests of the Margreve, where ancient powers slumber. Human civilization is just beginning to rise again from the ashes of the long-fallen Heratite Empire, a once-mighty realm undone by internal strife and the endless assaults of the Viles, the monstrous humanoids of the eastern wastelands. Small pockets of light remain: the merchant city of New Athelas, where gold flows freely but power is bought with whispers, and the Commonwealth, a militaristic state intent on restoring order through the sword and siege engine.

At the heart of Orodorn’s troubles lies a deep disconnection from the gods. Though once revered, the gods of Orodorn have become distant and silent. Their temples stand in ruins, and only the most fervent of worshippers cling to the hope of divine intervention. Magic, too, has dwindled, now practiced only by a rare few, whose abilities mark them as strange and often feared. Arcane secrets, locked away for millennia, exist only in fragments, guarded by hermit sages, reclusive elves, and the rare adventurer brave enough to seek them out. Magic items, once commonplace, are now relics of a bygone era, coveted by all but understood by none.

In the quiet corners of the world, rumors persist of a greater darkness stirring. The Chaos Scar, a tear in reality itself, lies to the southeast, where malevolent forces twist the very fabric of existence. Some believe that the Black Dream is spreading from this accursed place, a remnant of the meteor strike that shattered the world during The Sundering. As the stars above Orodorn seem to dim, and the air grows colder with each passing year, it is clear that this is a world on the edge of something vast and terrible — a world teetering between rebirth and annihilation.