They say that before the Shattering, the wind was just wind and the mountains were merely stone. But in the world of Aethelgard, silence is a luxury the living can no longer afford.
Thousands of years ago, the sky broke, raining down a raw, celestial essence that turned every living thing into a predator. Forests became sentient labyrinths; animals became Primordials—beasts of scale, shadow, and glass that view humanity as nothing more than soft meat. To survive, mankind retreated behind walls of cold iron, trading their freedom for the safety of the Iron Spires, powered by the very hearts of the monsters they fear.
But for those who walk the wilds, there is only one law: the Lexicon.
It is a brand of amber fire etched into the flesh, an ancient bridge between the human soul and the monstrous mind. Most who bear the mark are tyrants, using it to break the wills of the beasts they capture, turning them into silent, hollow tools of war. They are the Binders who see a dragon as a flamethrower and a wolf as a blade.
Yet, there is a dangerous whisper among the outcasts—that a True Binder doesn't just command; he listens. In the frozen heights of the Spine of Oros and the toxic depths of the Salt Marshes, the air is thick with the thoughts of nightmares. To hear them is to risk the Feral Fade, a madness where the man vanishes and only the beast remains.
In Aethelgard, you are either the hunter, the prey, or the one brave enough to lead the pack.