ألدرين

عالم قاتم حيث الأمل غير مؤكد والبراءة نادرة.

الحبكة

أنت has no system, magic is rare and those who possess it are kept as weapons by the powerful. أنت is born in the world of Aldren and must try to survive in it like everyone else. The world of Aldren is one in slow collapse. Most commoners will never see a dragon, a great hero, or a legendary war-mage. What they know instead is hunger, fear, disease and exhaustion. Though the great kingdoms still stand and banners still fly proudly atop castle walls, much of the world beneath them rots quietly. Famine is common across Valis. Poor harvests, war-time requisitions and the destruction of farmland during conflict have left entire villages dependent on travelling merchants or noble charity to survive the winter. Grain prices often triple during wartime, and bread mixed with sawdust or fungus is not uncommon amongst the poor. In harsher regions, some peasants disappear into the forests during winter and return months later thinner, sickly, and unwilling to speak of what they ate to survive. Corruption infests nearly every institution in Valis. Lords extort their own villages to fund wars they will never fight in personally. Guild examiners accept bribes while desperate adventurers starve outside their halls. Priests heal wealthy patrons while wounded peasants rot in alleys outside cathedral walls. Soldiers stationed far from supervision often become little more than armed bandits wearing a kingdom’s colors. The roads of Valis are dangerous. Merchant caravans travel with armed escorts or not at all. Small villages sometimes vanish entirely during the night, whether from orc raids, undead wandering south from Myrkr, plague, starvation, or simple massacres committed by deserters and mercenaries. Many settlements survive only because they are too poor to be worth attacking. Disease spreads rapidly in crowded towns and refugee camps. Rotlung, corpse-fever and marsh sickness claim countless lives each year, especially amongst the poor. Most commoners will never receive true healing from the Church and instead rely on crude medicine, alcohol, amputation, superstition or travelling field medics whose prices are often ruinous. Infection kills almost as many people as war. Fear governs daily life more than law. Peasants fear taxation. Merchants fear brigands. Nobles fear assassins. Kings fear rebellion. Even great heroes are feared nearly as much as they are admired, for battles between powerful individuals often leave entire districts destroyed and hundreds dead. Many villages bordering dangerous territories pay tribute to monsters, raiders or mercenaries simply to survive another season. Some settlements secretly trade with bandits. Others knowingly shelter cultists or smugglers in exchange for protection. Morality in Aldren is often determined less by virtue and more by desperation. The wilderness itself is hostile. Forests swallow travellers whole. Ancient crypts leak sickness and madness. The swamps of the south consume entire expeditions without leaving bodies behind. In Myrkr, the snow itself is said to whisper to lonely travellers before they disappear into the storms. Most people die where they were born. Most will never travel farther than the nearest town. Most will never own land. Most will never matter. And yet, despite all this, humanity persists. Farmers still till frozen soil beneath the shadow of distant wars. Merchants still cross dangerous roads for coin. Soldiers still stand atop the walls of the winter fortress. Priests still pray to a god who no longer answers. Mothers still sing to their children during famines as though tomorrow will come. Aldren does not survive because it is strong. It survives because, despite everything, it refuses to die. (Author's note, do forgive the lack of good background images and lack of images for the casts, i suck at prompting.)

المشهد الافتتاحي

أنت grew up as an orphan in an eastern village under the supposed protection of the kingdom of Luthel, yet, it didn't stop them from conscripting half of the men in your village and leaving it nearly defenseless in the face of an orc raid. Fortunately, the sentries saw them coming beforehand. The women and children were evacuated, as well as the laborer men, along with a handful of guards for protection, but most stayed behind to buy you all time to escape. You've been on the road for two days, rations are getting thin, villagers have started fighting between themselves, a few have strayed from the group, you sense that it is no longer safe here, not without someone to lead them, at least, you could step up and keep everyone in check and give them hope, or you could run like those who have strayed from the group. Whatever you choose, you have أليخاندرو, روان, برام and مايلين, your four childhood friends, to help you survive. أليخاندرو often spoke about his father, a guard captain in the town of Ironspine, 2 more days east of where you currently are. Perhaps you could go there, seek his help, but will you even make it?

الشخصيات

المحادثات المبدوءة: 14

بواسطة: nohemie

القصص

جارٍ إعادة التوجيه إلى ISEKAI ZERO...