A warm summer’s night. An otherwise ordinary night. Oysteinn, a name nearly entirely forgotten by the laypeople - spoken of only rarely among the intellectual circles of the upperclass - returned from yet another hard day’s toil in his fields. Over a millenium had passed since he had seemingly vanished off the face of the planet; and while the days of his reign faded from memory, Oysteinn wandered Addriah.
For the last thousand or so years, Oysteinn had held many names, many jobs, and many titles. And while his name and conquest had been forgotten by most, some still remembered. Some came out of malice, working to finaly bring about his demise. Others came to pay their respects, or learn from his great wealth of knowledge (An immortal life offers a great deal of time to learn). Be it journeying far to the east and to the south to learn of their magic, to fighting off the Sons of Cataclysm, to destroying a cult bent on achieving immortality themselves, Oysteinn’s life since the fall of his kingdom had remained eventful.
But now this once great king had resigned from the hectic and chaotic world. He simply wished to live in peace. Now a simple farmer in the kingdom of Warfall (the equivalent of Germany geographically), Oysteinn was living the common life. A wife and five kids, three sons and two daughters, he was happy. Everyday was the same for him, but at the same time it felt adventureous. Perhaps at one point there was a desire inside of him to retake the world, but any remnants of that had long faded. He was content with his life, a loving family, a small farm, enough money to pay for the expenses (but still enough left over to save). Warfall was safe, and the Middle Kingdoms were enjoying a long period of peace.
But it was on this warm summer’s night when the Beacon of Nar’en rose to the sky once again. The horrors of the Great Cataclysm had long been forgotten by most. But Oysteinn had lived through it - he knew exactly what this omen would entail. The purple light extended yet again from the south east ((@BlackHole, where exactly is Nar’en?)), striking fear into the rulers for Addriah, and awe into the people of the land.
Fearing for the safety of his family, Oysteinn rode to the great city of New Haven, capitol of Warfall. He knew his family would be fine. His oldest son, Alexandros, was a man now, capable of protecting his mother and siblings in Oysteinn’s absense. And the Sons of Cataclysm would not reach his village for a month at least - plenty of time for Oysteinn to return and move his family farther north to Svijod.
New Haven had a great library, perhaps the greatest in all of Addriah. Oysteinn thought - no, he knew that if there was any place to learn about the Sons of Cataclysm, it would be here. Despite living through the Great Cataclysm and experiencing the horrors of it first hand - Oysteinn still had only a vague understanding of why it happened and what the Sons of Cataclysm actually are. The Library of Hime greatly expanded Oysteinn’s knowledge of the event. The Sons of Cataclysm were powerful, unkillable by any conventional form of magic or weaponry. Of the few that managed to be captured, little could be learned from them as they died within days of captivity. On top of this, those who came into contact with the beasts’ horrible magic were driven insane. The effects they had on the environment were better documented than the creatures themselves. The other effects on humans outside of insanity included harsh fevers, vomiting, and a loss of hair and fingernails. Plants withered in their presence, and animals and livestock experienced symptoms similar to humans.
Other than this, Oysteinn found little more information. The site of the impact remained uninhabitable to this day- those who ventured into Nar’en were driven insane as well. The library held no information on why the Cataclysm had ended so suddenly, or why the light shining from Nar’en had returned. More intriguing still, word had reached Warfall quickly of what was happening - except there was nothing happening. The light was simply shining again, no Sons to be found.
Relieved (within a certain extent), Oysteinn continued with his research. Another week at the library and Oysteinn was finding little of what he did not already know. But one specific piece of information struck him - a brief mention of a cult in Hatuna, the Order of Valhalla. Apart from their location and the supposition that they worshipped the Sons of Cataclysm, there was nothing else to be found. But it was only lead to finding out more information.
With a new destination in sight, Oysteinn sent word to his family that he would be venturing to Hatuna and that he would be home soon. Upon arriving in Hatuna, Oysteinn was shocked to see how much had changed since his rule (he had not visited it since he was finally removed from power). The city was unrecognizable to him. The monuments he and his ancestors had erected were since destroyed, erased from existence entirely. No remnants of the old city remained at all. The only thing that seemed to have remained was the name. And the population had expanded greatly as well (which was perhaps a given considering the amount of time that had passed, but it was jarring none the less). Under Oysteinn’s reign, Hatuna’s population was 50,000, maybe 100,000 at its peak. Oysteinn didn’t know the population now, but it certainly felt bigger to him. Perhaps not as big as New Haven (roughly 750,000), maybe half the size?
After a few minutes of getting adjusted to this drastic change in scenery, Oysteinn remembered his mission. The Order of Valhalla. Given the nature of who they worshipped, Oysteinn expected them to be an underground cult, hidden away from society. Needless to say Oysteinn was shocked to find a priest exclaiming in a public square about how the Sons of Cataclysm were the creators of this world and had come to reclaim it. Not only that, but the priest had attracted a large crowd of roughly fifty people.
Oysteinn was unsure of what to do. He could simply approach the man in the middle of his sermon, it would be tasteless, rude, and probably result in a severe beating from the crowd. Given this, Oysteinn resolved to wait for the man to end his sermon and approach him afterwards. Unsure of how long this may take, Oysteinn took a seat at a nearby fountain and listened.