Religion is present in all cultures and levels of society. Most folks share a common set of pantheistic beliefs. They roughly agree on the same story of creation, accept the existence of many major deities, but most worship only one. For the kingdom of Mercia, the laity of Larani, Myra, and Haelyn are most common. Their priests offer services in the name of their Goddess, from a simple alms or prayer for good luck to the great feat of ressurection.

A few scholars may argue that the gods are figments of the imagination of men, but most believe implicitly in their existence. Society is dominated by superstition.

In recent years within Denshy the words of Larani and the Three Goddesses of the Mercian Gods have begun to fade. The concepts of honor and fealty have been lost amongst the freemen and the duties of man are no longer to each other, but themselves. What has shaken their faith is not known for it started long before word of doubt arose. Yet disbelief is palpable.

From the shadows of the Goddesses’ visage has risen a single voice; the Great Shadow; he that swallowed Zeal. And as the faith fails in the Goddesses so does his power grow. Whispers fill Denshy of ancients pacts, of false Goddesses. Is it true the Goddesses are servents of the shadow? Have they been a lie all these years? To the faithful this is heresy, deception placed upon the minds of those already lacking faith. Yet their cries of reason fall on deaf ears, for the Master of Deceit has many faces, and many tales to tell.

The absence of faith. Yet, the presence of pain, suffering, and darkness. It was Zeal that lost its faith at the hour of its greatest achievement. It is Denshy that has lost its faith at the hour of its greatest need. On the shadow of the horizon, old whispers. Ancient temples. The beginings of the unknown.

... The Elder God.