In the world of Scath there are only chunks of history left. Much was lost when the old kingdoms burned and humans were slaughtered by their thousands. Still there are some, keepers of knowledge in the villages and wise men and women amongst the Wilder clans, who have made it their task to preserve the little information that is left. They orally pass on their knowledge to pupils and young warriors alike, making them listen to stories again and again, repeating them until everything is firmly entrenched into the minds of all listeners. In a time of darkness, where the written word is nearly completely lost, such things are necessary to keep the information alive.
This is the brief history of the world, as thought by the Keepers and Wise Ones (and it also holds the reason why it will be quite difficult for the player characters to unite the warriors of men against the darkness):
Mankind emerged in the far north, on the great island of Miles. We rose amongst the beasts and conquered the land with axe and plow. This is where the first kingdom of humanity was built, led by powerful heroes and protected by the gods of fire.
The spirits of ice, however, hated us humans, and sent an eternal winter to destroy us. Thousands died, but in the end wise men and women found an answer: our forefathers built a huge fleet, hundreds of great ships, and left Miles behind, sailing to the South. Here they found a rich, fertile land of wide planes, roaring rivers and ancient forests. The land of Scath.
Humanity prospered again, taming the great northern plains and constructing three great kingdoms. But again there were those who would wish us harm. The Pale Ones, cold – eyed beings from the ancient times, watched the rise of our ancestors with hatred and envy. They came from the deepest forests with their evil hounds and their terrible weapons, carrying murder in their hearts, led by their evil Queen of Terror.
But this time we would not run. The three kings and the most powerful druids united the armies of mankind and fought for their people. The war lasted a hundred years but in the end, despite the sinister magic of the Pale Ones and the monstrous ravens of their dark queen, the heroes of the land proved victorious. Humanity triumphed, the Pale Ones scattering and banished.
Now, finally, there was peace. The kingdoms of men thrived and a fourth kingdom was build, seat of the High King who would rule over all of humanity. At the centre stood Tara, the fabled city upon the hill, the greatest wonder ever created by mortal hands. For hundreds of years our ancestors enjoyed a good life, a life without war, without suffering, A golden time. It should not last.
The Overlords came, evil, mysterious creatures with powers unlike anything we had ever seen, masters to legions of monsters with only one thought: to tear down everything our forefathers had built and slaughter as many of us as possible. The High King assembled his greatest heroes and mankind fought bravely against these tides of darkness, but this time it was not enough. Weakened by diseases and meagre harvests, the very land itself tainted by the Overlords' power, we could not stand. In only twelve short years the great kingdoms were shattered, men, women and children murdered by the tens of thousands. The Fomori, demigods of darkness, leaders to the Overlords, owned the world.
Listen to me now. This is no longer a world of men. We are hunted like animals, powerless before the colossal evil that holds the land in its grip. Do not seek to change this. Protect your family and friends, do whatever you can to give them a good life, with enough food to fend off starvation and enough firewood to make it through winter. Live in peace with your brothers and sisters of the village and count yourself lucky when you can see your children grow. They are the only glimmer of light in this world. Everything else is lost. The future belongs to the Overlords. Do not bring their wrath upon us.