^{| by Lupita Palicio |}
Despite the incessant hearsay from self-proclaimed prophets and scholars of ancient doomsday cultures, humanity didn't end the world, not directly. Our downfall came from our unwillingness to disturb the lives we had built, from our self-imposed ignorance, and our inability to make hard choices rather than attempt to please every major advocate who managed to build a substantial media following. Ethics, morality, compassion: These are not universal truths, yet we pursued them as if they substantiated our lives. These issues pressed themselves to the forefront of our consciousness, until these controversial topics where imprinted into our daily lives on coffee mugs and protest signs, until we could focus on nothing else. Important issues were pushed back, relegated by committees with too much power and too little oversight.
One such committee, ISOC (International Science Oversight Committee), began making great strides with these back-burner issues society seemed so complacent to ignore. The first of these proclaimed "Scientific Miracles" came in the form of Project Zeus, which in turn gave birth to the "Zeus Array". Comprised of weather towers, a fleet of drones, and several satellites, the Zeus Array worked to subtly nudge climates into desired directions. Rains began to fall on the Arabian Peninsula, coastal hurricanes were dispersed, and carbon emissions were being captured and ejected into space. ISOC used the resolutions of these back-burner issues to propagate changes for the more prominent problems the public focuses on. Nations began rolling out humanitarian changes like never before, new trade deals elevated the economy, and generally, life seemed to be improving.
Little over a year later, early in the morning, a massive solar flare erupted from the Sun, resulting in an explosive coronal mass ejection, which is basically a massive release of plasma accompanied by a magnetic field. This magnetic field swept over the planet with a force several times greater than any man-made EMP we could deploy. Satellites became balls of fire streaking through the sky, power transformers exploded, planes began to plummet towards the earth, vehicles began to pileup on the roadways as automatic navigation failed, and so much more. By the time dawn came, modern technology had been completely wiped out. More importantly, there are two events which lead to the complete decline of human civilization. First, Nuclear reactors began to overheat, and though there were no movie worthy explosions, many of these facilities did burn to the ground, releasing an absurd amount of radioactive material into the atmosphere. Secondly, without the Zeus Array to maintain the delicate balance of influence ISOC had been maintaining over the normal weather patterns, the global climate immediately began to destabilize. The sheer amount of natural phenomena that began to occur caused untold devastation to the world. Hurricanes, surpassing category 5, began to rip coasts apart. Snowstorms began freezing over northern countries. Heat waves and wildfires began ravaging warmer climates. Some of us were fortunate enough to live through this, only to be subjected to an entirely new crisis.
BRAD-1, the Biological Research and Development facility located somewhere near the eastern coast of the United States, split apart as the earth around became a sea of churning earth. We didn't know it at first, but the black plumes rising into the atmosphere from the burning facility carried a manufactured organism known as S-1. Also known as the "Strain", this organism was first developed with the intention of eliminating genetic defects from newborns by correcting damaged sequences of DNA. However, as S-1 entered the atmosphere, it was subject to the radiation from the failing nuclear plants, resulting in chaotic cellular evolution. S-1 began to mutate into different strains, the exact number of which is unknown, some of these strains would remain dormant, only to be discovered later. The initial split of S-1 created S-2 "Lazarus", the strain responsible for humanity's departure underground.
In short, Lazarus creates nightmarish creatures known as "Corpsers", though to call these creatures "zombies" would be wildly inaccurate. Corpsers are not the living dead, they are mimics of the living. Lazarus not only already resides within humans, but also affects the cadavers of those who have long since past, even those that are nothing but bones. Lazarus has good intentions, but a flawed execution. This particular strain attempts to correct the problem of being dead by restoring base human functions and uses itself as self-replicating organic material. However, this process falls short and instead creates an armored, bulletproof nightmare with instincts composed survival, love, hate, and fear. Instincts which seem to cause corpsers to attack standard humans with extreme prejudice.
By the time night fell after the Black Dawn, society had succumb to complete pandemonium. Everyone knows about the cryo-vaults, a system of bunkers that had been created to preserve humanity, each containing anywhere from several hundred, to thousands of cryo-pods. Over the next several days we fought tooth and nail for our place in the vaults as the hordes of blackened creatures began to scour the land. Creatures that ran faster, creatures that did not tire, and creatures we could not stop. Conventional weaponry was just not effective, and there had never been a widespread deployment of the more experimental weaponry that was slightly less ineffective. The lucky ones stepped into their pods, had their dials set for 300 years, and went to sleep. The calculations were made with great haste, but we hoped the corpsers would have starved to extinction, the strain would have died, and that the global climate would have balanced itself out.
Nothing happened the way we thought it would.

^{| by Lupita Palicio |}
When we fled to the cryo-vaults there was no order, no system that determined who was allowed in and who was not. Of course, we had developed such a plan, charging outrageous prices for reservations, but in this scenario, only the fortunate found their way into a cryo-pod. After the Black Dawn, it did not matter if you were rich, intelligent, a criminal, or anything else. There was no longer such trivial things as "status", only human rodents scurrying away from the growing tide of monsters scratching at our backs.
Three centuries later, the first capsules began to thaw and the doors of the surviving cryo-vaults began to open. There were not as many survivors as we had first predicted, as it had been difficult to thoroughly analyze the unstable nature of the Cataclysm. Some vaults took years to reach basic functionality as technicians worked to restore the necessary systems, some were ready within a few days, and others became tombs. It's also quite probable that many vaults collapsed as the earth broke apart, others flooded or invaded by the beasts that so hungered for our blood. It is also quite probable that the survivors on Epoch may be the last in the world, though we aren't certain for sure, we no longer dare to brave the waters.
It wasn't until we had first strode out into the light, feeling the Sun singe our pallid flesh, that we understood the results of our ambitions. The world as we knew it was gone, there no longer was an Earth. What we found instead was a torrid landscape changed beyond all recognition, and though we were greeted by some seemingly familiar sights, it turns out that we knew nothing at all. Everything that had been of the old world had been rewritten and created anew. In that first year, we lost many people to the unknown.
The survivor's "Rule of 3" states that a person can survive: 3 minutes without air, or in icy water; 3 hours without shelter in a harsh environment, unless in icy water; 3 days without water, if sheltered from a harsh environment; and 3 weeks without food, if you have water and shelter. These principles are how we managed to survive at all and these rules have become an important rule in our culture. We established ourselves slowly, and not without great difficulty, by following these rules.
Step 1: Shelter. On average, it took several months to devise a way of constructing proper shelters, upgrading from patchwork tents to thatch huts, and eventually to the wide variety of structures you can find today. The greatest difficulty in performing this task was harvesting jungle wood, which quite frankly, were literally as tough as nails (thus the name, Ironwood). Naturally, we focused out settlements across the safer and more fertile areas, through the Vale, the Grasslands, and the Verdant Plains. We had been sent back all the way through time to the very basics of industry: farming, fishing, woodcutting, and so on. We are fortunate that we can survive at all, with all of the horrors that roam the lands. It is quite fortunate, in fact, that many beasts prefer to avoid our settlements, and those that are more aggressive, have learned to fear our villages and the traps that surround them - even the corpsers stay away from our walls. After five years, we've managed to create a foothold for ourselves, and it's become an uncommon occurrence to find that a major settlement has been attacked. Machine gun emplacements, barbed walls, spiked trenches, sonic fences, and napalm sprayers are great deterrents.
Step 2: Water. It took us very little time to understand that we no longer had the capacity to enjoy the water provided through the natural cycles of Earth. For us, the planet's water had become poison. Thus came the discovery of strain S-3, "Deadwater". This variation bonds to H20 molecules and, when ingested, the victim's blood congeals and turns black, like a think ink, resulting in death. Currently, we've yet to understand why the creatures of Epoch can drink deadwater, yet humans cannot, we hypothesize it may have something to do with the strain. This hypothesis led us towards our first rudimentary attempts to filter the water, which was a mild success. The first batches of filtered water weren't entirely pure, but S-3 had been diluted enough that as long as we stuck to minimal levels of hydration, we'd survive. However, drinking diluted deadwater was still unpleasant. Ingestion of diluted deadwater could result in symptoms such as nausea, cramps, seizures, and delirium. Currently, we've managed to filter deadwater into a pure state, though the process is slow.
Step 3: Food. It had been quite a process to understand what one could eat in Epoch. No longer were there apple trees, fields of wheat, or herds of deer to hunt. What we had instead, was a total lack of knowledge. Finding edible food became a fearful process. Think of the person who had first discovered acid grapes, who would voluntarily offer to consume something that could burn holes through the jaw and stomach? It was a long process to figure out what was safe, and what we could alter into states of safe consumption. Hunting the more passive, less dangerous creatures was also a toss of the coin. For instance, before the Muppy had become a domesticated pet, we had tried to use it as a source of renewable meat. Unfortunately, Muppies are rather toxic. Society became desperate, and violent, but eventually we figured it out.
When we began scavenging resources from ruins, and procuring ores and wood, we began to learn about the creatures: Which were territorial, which would flee, those that hunted us, and so forth. An arduous process, but one that had to been done one way or another. Epoch is host to many strange and wondrous things, things that are also dangerous and violent, and those that are simply unexplainable. Somehow, we've managed to figure out the rules and keep pace with the ever changing and evolving laws of this world. Somethings we simply can't figure out, but progress never stops. Perhaps someday, we may reclaim the reigns of our planet, and I hope that when that day comes, we've learned from our mistakes. I have found there to be one universal truth, to which we must always adhere to: "Expect the unexpected".

^{| by Lupita Palicio |}
After five years, we've managed to reconstruct a semblance of our former lives, and though things are different, there's a certain kind of familiarity that can be appreciated by knowing one's place. Our major settlements are secure behind their barbed metal walls, our farms are productive, and we are still fortunate to have brave souls who dare brave the infested ruins of the old world. So now would be a good time to document the current state of affairs in what is now our fifth year of survival.
As a people, I think we've come to understand the importance of working together. Yes, there are still bandits and raiders who roam the roadways, preying on the weak and unaware, but as a whole we've only survived because of our cooperation. EnAvant, who owns the only hydroelectric dam in the entire region, sells power and in exchange receives the necessary goods their people need to survive: such as food and animal byproducts from Drudgery; ore and glass from the Hub; and so forth. It's only because of our interconnected network of trade do we manage to survive and eek out a half decent existence in Epoch at all.
Society, in large, has come to see advanced technology as a distasteful thing responsible for calling the nightmares up from hell and into our world - they're not far off. However, most of us understand the necessity of technology, especially those concerning the defense of our lands and those that increase our industrial potential: the kinds of things that help us survive. We've become focused on our own merits, and the things we can make with our own hands. No more is the day of mechanical servants, in fact, most places have just about outlawed anything coming close to sentient A.I. We've come to understand that there must always be a human element, which is a step in the right direction.
We are largely dependent on the providers; the manual laborers and their security teams who brave the forests and the mines to gather resources; the scavengers who gather the relics of the old world and strip the ruins of all useful material; the creature farmers and food growers. It is because of these people than we can pursue whatever our hearts desire, as long as we can sustain ourselves from our ideals. The Tether has played a large role in this, providing us the ability to connect ourselves with one another over vast distances, much like the internet of old.
We have made leaps and bounds in our crafts. Our smiths create amazing inventions, from telescoping swords to spring-loaded spears. Gunslingers who can consistently hit a creature's weak spots are few and far between, the common method of monster hunting is with swords. Some weapons are of the smaller, thinner variety, boasting accuracy and precision. Some armaments are enormous things made lightweight materials intended not to hit a creature's weak points, but to shatter their defenses. Guns have evolved too, from shotguns that fire fist-sized slugs, to javelin rifles, to pistols that spew streams of nitro-fire. Our advancements, from a personal standpoint, are utterly amazing.
Transportation varies, from scrap cars held together by a wish and a prayer, to long trains of battle wagons bristling with weapons. With our advancements in cybernetic prosthesis, we've also developed a sort of exoskeleton, allowing us to deploy heavily armored front-line fighters and lighter, faster recon elements. In Epoch, there are many ways to get around, provided you can afford them.
Our primary focus has been to increase of our military might, because despite all of our advancements in technology we still fall far behind in power when compared to the monsters that plague us. We've also been unable to develop anything to combat the wild storms that scour Epoch's surface, nor have we achieved anything that can detect or disperse the formation of anomalies - for which science is at a complete loss.
Life is hard, and dangerous, but it is a life.

• THE CRUCIBLE •

What is essentially a giant manufacturing arcology resembling an industrial plant, The Crucible serves as the capital city of the Forgeborne, and represents the total culmination of their industrial capabilities. Enormous walls surround the city, bristling with armaments and dotted with watchtowers. If one can look past the oil-stained streets, the soot-choked air, and the rather dirty living conditions, The Crucible is one of the safest, and warmest, cities in Frostfall. The real threat comes from constant breakdowns and the continual need to replace components, if these problems go unchecked the city could grind to a halt, leaving its citizens without power, water, and most importantly, heat.

Ideas / World Expansion

Mag Lev: (Progenesis/Progenitor)
LeeRoy: (Progenesis/Progenitor)
Dervish: (Raiders)
Heat: (Developmental Ideas.)
POOHEAD189 (Cultural refinement, how not to get banned)
FrankenDaughter (Thrivafter Shadow sect)

Editing
Sleeping Silence: 3piece lore Edits