Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

=Part one - The Gods' Silence=
Music

In the middle of the day, when farmers peacefully tended to their land and burghers tended to their daily tasks... The skies darkened.

Earth trembled. Herds of cows suddenly died. From the heavy, dark clouds above our heads, rain as black as tar came falling down, causing burning rashes and withering of plants.

Then, came the meteors. As if the heavens themselves were furious at Toril, the burning rocks exploded above our heads and showered the streets and buildings, callously taking lives and splitting families apart.

Travellers began to talk about being assaulted by horrifying creatures, akin to those from nightmares of the sleeping, appearing out of nowhere, thirsty and hungry for destruction.

The Weave, too, seems to be unpredictable, as every arcanist fails to control their magic. Every spell manifests with random and uncontrollable effects.

No one has any answers about what is happening- even the Gods are not answering. The Power, their gift of divine magic has suddenly become incredibly limited, and any attempt to commune with the divines had failed.

Rumours spread that the followers of Helm have retained their ability to call upon the powers of their God but the Watcher likewise remains silent. Is he the only deity remaining, providing powers to his clergy? Why aren't the Gods answering our pleas?

This is the beginning of a cataclysm of untold proportions, one which the Realms have never seen before.

It is the time of Chaos.


After some time, the wanton destruction had abated. Still, we all flock to priests, wizards and sages to guide us in this time. To answer our questions born out of desperation and fear.

They can find no answers.

As night goes on the 5th of Flamerule, a terrible shriek can be heard across the Realms as the Goddess of Magic meets her doom by the fist of the Watcher. Mystra is no more.

Besides the happenings of the region itself, like the news of outlawed spells and spellcasters, the actions of mage hunters, conflicts between faiths and many other rumours, other stories of the gods themselves and their actions across the realm may reach the ears of many.

PCs don't need to have heard of these rumours, they may know of a few or none at all. PCs of the surface are unlikely to know the happenings of the Underdark, and vice-versa, but these do spread, and information is out there to be learned. Hints of what is to come may exist in these words, while some may simply be stories of lands far from our own.

Art by: Lius Lasahido

The Death of Bane

In the morning between 13'th and 14'th of Eleasis, a great battle raged over the fate of the city of Tantras. Locked in an intense duel were two gods known as Torm and Bane. The story says that the Dark Hand approached the city with the intent of its utter destruction and claiming a hidden treasure within it- leaving only suffering and death in his wake. Empowered by a dark ritual which had seen most assassins of Toril slain- their souls taken for himself- his coming was like a black storm approaching on the horizon, heralding the coming apocalypse.

This would not stand with Torm, for whom this city became a home for his mortal faithful. Against the Dark Lord, he stood alone, shining with golden light; his greatsword in hand. It is said that Bane appeared as a creature of enormous proportions- a Titan amongst all mortals. Their weapons clashed time and time again, the sparks flying off of metal were causing fires around them. The Weave screamed and tore with each powerful spell the gods used against each other.

As the struggle between the two gods went on and the landscape continued to be blasted with magic- both chaotic and not- Torm the True realised that he cannot defeat Bane in this state. He could not stand against the might of a greater god in his weakened state much longer. It was then that he decided to perform the final act of dedication to the mortals he had beloved, the last chance to save Tantras and Faerun with it.

In a matter of seconds, his consciousness extended- becoming aware of all who pray to him and hold his teachings in their hearts: Clergy and Paladins in his service. To each of them, he appeared in a vision, explaining the situation and asking them to help him in this struggle. He had given them a choice, to sacrifice themselves- their lives- to empower Torm for the one, fatal strike, or refuse and remain to protect those who will remain after the battle ends.

Whether it be a victory or loss.

Across Faerun, in all cities, towns and villages- Priests and Knights of Torm, one by one, dissipated into golden dust carried by the winds. Leaving no bodies behind. With each sacrifice made, the Loyal fury was empowered. Bane, the Dark Lord, realising what is happening, lounged at Torm before he would become strong enough to be able to wound him, but it was already too late.

With no regard for his own life, the Paladin God leapt and pierced the chest of the greater god with his weapon, falling upon the ground with him, locked tight. The power he had gained from the selfless sacrifice of his worshippers rippled through the greatsword and shattered the very core of Bane's being, leaving him unable to transfer his essence to another host.

He was not done yet, however. The Dark Lord would not die like this. His hatred for Torm was unending- a drive which gave him power over pain. With his dying breath, he released a great magical beam and obliterated Torm the True as he kneeled over him.


Like a heavy veil being lifted from the shoulders and eyes of all mortals on Toril, a strange heaviness comes off their hearts. As if a new, glorious dawn had risen above the landscape, bringing with it happiness, hope and a thrilling sense of freedom. Bane. Has perished. Forever.

A victory for all, truly, but won with a heavy price.

Art by Neal Hanson

Faerûn Celebrates the End of Tyranny!

As the death of Bane becomes more common and proven knowledge, over 27 nations in Faerun declare wide-scale festivals and celebrations to commemorate the death of the Lord of Darkness. Baldur's Gate is no exception- even now there are preparations undergoing to make it the largest and most successful city-wide party to date. Word is that even Grand Duke Entar Silvershield is throwing a lavish ball at his manor, inviting any and all to partake in the festivities. Many contrived and common-day restrictions are rumoured to be lifted for the duration of the celebrations as to allow everyone to enjoy the "New Dawn of Freedom" to its fullest, though the common laws known to all will still apply.

Some, however, particularly wizards and sages, say that celebrations might be too hasty. The Weave continues to distort and reports of ever-growing examples of wild magic and destruction keep coming. These words, however, quickly drown in the myriad masses of celebrants.

The Era of Upheaval

In the evening hours of the 24nd of Marpenoth, the world comes to a sudden halt. The bustling of the cities quietens, and what animals remain fall silent. Even the rains and winds cease their cacophony of sounds all over Toril. When every mortal ceased their daily works- A voice, deep and resonant, echoes through every corner of the world. A voice of a man, neither young nor old, speaks with commanding authority.

"I have created the gods for a purpose. Today, this purpose is reminded to them. Your true power depends upon the faithful you serve, not your rule over them. The Tablets of Fate lie destroyed by my own hands, for they held not any power to be stolen in hubris. Now, let the gods return to the heavens and earn their mortal worship anew!"


And thus, as by the word the Time of Troubles has started, so by the word it has ended. The Gods of all Pantheons return to their divine realms, leaving the mortals that served as their avatars behind. All Temples of Mystra alight anew with bursts of magical lights. Nine blue-white stars surround the altars of the Lady of Mysteries, signifying the choosing of a new Keeper of the Weave. The priests of Bane, Bhaal and Myrkul receive visions with promises of greatness from a new malignant power- the name of which is Cyric.

Torm has been returned to existence by Ao's hand. Now called "The True" by his very young followers, collectively known as Martyr's Progeny, Torm rises to prominence amongst Faerun at large. With it, come a great many reforms to his church. From Waterdeep, rumours quickly spread of declarations made by high priests of Selune and new Mystra. They speak of an insidious, corrupting tool of magic which had been recently discovered to have been created by Shar. The Shadow Weave. Already there is talk of establishing holy orders and mages dedicating themselves to studying and eradicating this new threat created by the Dark Goddess of Night.

Clerics, druids, paladins, rangers and all other followers of the Divine find their connection to their Patrons restored in full. With their blessings returned, so came back the word of their gods spoken to them. Most herald changes, large or small, within their faith. Others assure the continuity of old traditions.


The Weave itself is brought back to peace. Though it remains damaged and the signs of its wild fluctuations of power have forever scarred the world, its use is no longer an ever-present threat everywhere. With the Weave's restoration, many strange happenstances and events are reversed. Damaged forests regrow anew overnight, missing mountains appear back where they once stood tall and proud, and animals return in abundance to the wildlands. The magical items and wards return to their former glory, once again protecting their owners with full strength.


The Monks of Candlekeep write upon the pages of history and call the past months by a variety of names. The Time of Troubles, The Godswar, The Fall of the Gods and the Time of the Avatars are but a few of such by which the events will now be known, now.

As for the upcoming time, all agree that the Age of Humanity had drawn to an end. Now begins a new Era.

The Era of Upheaval.