World

Dawntide is, first and foremost, a place. The known world is bordered by impassable mountains and reefs, called Cieve (meaning The Cage) by its inhabitants, but this cage is a vast one, full of old, broken continents, magic, and creatures. Civilized lands extend only a small way; Human, Santyrian, and Andrun nations have only small contact with the strange things beyond their borders. Traders whisper of the Seelie courts, of corpses in the sands, of Sirian witchcraft hidden in the snow, but who can be sure? Life goes on as it always has. There's the harvest, wood must be stored for winter, and a watch must be kept lest a Drift--a predatory flying whale-jellyfish--tangle livestock in its stinging tendrils and float off with a favorite cow.

The people in Dawntide are no members of a great Race or Nation set out to Save or Destroy the World as We Know It. They're simply people, subject to their own specific cultures, race, personality and religion. They make their living in a world that is similar to our darker ages, but which is populated by powerful and alien creatures of magic, and they have a deep fear of the unknown.

The world is real: houses do not spring whimsically from the mountainside whenever a new shore is discovered, but must instead be built with wood and stone and sweat. Food is ate and drank to stay alive, not to recover from arrow wounds, and even magic has a hard time with the latter. Hosts of horrible creatures have their place in myth and legend, but most wars are between men for land, coin, power, or spite.

Despite this, taverns abound with talk of hidden sorcerous cabals, goblin witches with the ear of powerful nobles, of weavers snatching away madmen when their words wander too close to truth. The truth is often an ugly marriage of the two, as humanity's darker side is cajoled and fed by things most folk dismiss as 'witchery' and 'demons'.