Nightfall

Prologue

Little was known about the Abominable Gods even within the erudite circles of Chroniclers and Archivers; their title was pretty self-explanatory and many feared to advance their research on the matter solely to avoid accidently summoning them.

And yet someone, somehow, managed to do it at some point in the ancient history, leaving almost no tracks of what used to be before that incident.

Almost.

The only remaining thing from that lost age was a golden statue of what appeared to be some sort of snake goddess found near the Remnan border with the Sand Sea. It was one of the reasons many believed the Remnans were cursed people and why their Seremeese neighbors wanted to strip them so bad of their customs and gods. Also, a big reason the other nations allowed the subjugation yet made no move to claim the "land of the cursed".

The statue smiled through the whole ordeal, no one left to witness its reaction. No human, at least.

The last remaining Chronicler was uncertain whether leaving the statue alone would do more harm than destroying it, so he decided to gather a small group of powerful people (this new age thankfully had many decent candidates) he could trust to guard the cursed item. The thirteen he eventually chose were a strange mix of warriors, mages and even a Seremeese priest, but they seemed to understand the gravity of the situation well enough to not let their different backgrounds (or downright antagonistic, as the group was formed in the middle of Seremyr's golden age of witch-hunting, so the priest was not exactly on best terms with the mages in the beginning) dictate their ability to work together.

In fact, they worked together so well towards their common goal of screwing everything for everyone, it was almost impressive the statue didn't pat their heads and congratulated them.

The Chronicler was left speechless as his once treasured pack of heroes turned their back against their mission (and humanity in general) and came to a horrifying conclusion: the world they lived in was beyond redemption, so the return of the Abominable Gods was the best thing that could happen to this rotten place, marking a fresh start for what they assumed would be a new age under their control.

The statue and the Shadow Lords, as his former band of misfits referred to themselves now, disappeared from the Chronicler's grasp for many centuries, leaving the former wonder just how much longer it would take until one of them inevitably realizes how to awaken the goddess from her golden cage. During this time, he'd taken many human disguises, endlessly searching for both the damned artifact and his treacherous former allies.

One day he had finally found one of the Lords, hiding in the Aldirian Gulf. Well, more like luring the Chronicler away from his comrades, but the Chronicler was willing to pretend for a bit longer that he fell for his tricks. Getting rid of the weakest Lord and alarming the others was probably the worst thing he could do. 

He needed allies. Just not the type to betray him like his former did. He needed to be cautious.