Standard Humans

The Source brings all things. When the Dark Tide comes it reaches out to other worlds, and those whose shores it touches find themselves drawn to it.

Long ago, half a dozen empires on a far away plane waged war against each other. Theirs was not a land of spell and sword but a world of cold iron, fire, and heavy machines. Great engines of war were the winners of battle. Organized armies fought horrific battles against barbarians, who waged war against seafaring folk. Seafarers pillaged the shores of all nations.

There were no monsters of which to speak. No elves in their towers, nor dwarves on their hills. No Smaragdine in the earth. There were no Gods who answered. There was war, and winning was survival.

In a world without magic, fire was twice as dangerous, uncontrolled, and unpredictable; it was the death of untold millions. But every now and then, the Dark Tide would come, and it came to this world strangely. It did not pervert, destroy, or mutate. It curled into itself and became like a viscous gel washing up on the southern shores, and it burned.

When it burned, it burned white hot. It could destroy nations. Armies would coat their arrows in it, which could not be put out with water. Armies would load their great machines with it and lob into the walls of their enemies. It could not be extinguished. This fire could make a nation great. So when the tendrils of the Dark Tide came this plane, the nations were prepared. They launched their fleets into the sea rushing into a great race to find the Source Island, and claim it for themselves.

Imagine their surprise when they came to the island and found flights of giant lizards spewing flame at it. This wasn’t the worst of it. Looking to the sky, they saw two moons instead of one, and every star in the sky was unfamiliar. There were legions of armor-clad reptilian soldiers marching onto ships even as they arrived. Then the Dark Tide faded beneath them.

They had come too late. The trip took too long. The Source had been defeated and the Dark Tide was retreating to the depths.

There was no going home. How could there be? So as the faster, wedged Draconian ships sailed away they followed in their slower flat-face rigged galleons and man powered galleys. Eventually they came to shore and the humans spread out across the world known as Bil Hanna. The more uncivilized of them found their solace in the swamps. The great commander Áedán mac Gabráin would go on to found the nation of Anwyn on the eastern coast. Various other militaries founded over a dozen kingdoms in the next two hundred years. After which, the Eternal Empire would eventually rise, war against each other, and then unite them.

Nations would be founded by other lost immigrants, not just the fleets of warriors. The Dark Tide was not picky when it touched worlds; it pulled in warships and fishing ships alike.

### Home Nations/Region:

The Empire, the Twin Kingdoms Anwyn, and many other city states/kingdoms around Bil’Hanna.

### Life span:

They reach physical maturity between the ages of 14-20 and live around 80 years.

### Faith:

As per their nation, but the vast majority of Humans worship the Deck like it is a Pantheon.