The Faith of the Hundred Gods
Faith is a strange business – it is the means by which beings, called gods by mortals, are nourished and empowered. It is also the means by which these beings can share some of their power with their believers. The conflicts of the gods became the conflicts of men, and mankind tore itself apart. This phenomenon of faith-based genocide is commonly called ‘the Darkness of Faith’ by modern scholars, and still occurs to this day in more remote areas. It was not always the case – indeed, until Cyzar came along and unified faiths into a pantheon by force of arms and faith in himself, this was a common practice across the world.

Cyzar the Unifier, may he rest till he comes again, was a poor shepherd boy of a clan who worshiped the Sheep God. While he was on the hillside, he was attacked by raiders for the amulet of protection he bore. He defeated them as a realization came to him – that the real enemy was the gods and that they should be brought to heel. Common teaching says that the All-Father saw his heart and gave him all the blessings he would need – the remote deity had hardly any followers but had a great deal of knowledge to assist a mortal scion in ending the endless wars of faith that had erupted across his world. Cyzar traveled widely, preaching his ideology of unification and challenging the champions of the Gods – and besting them all. Those he defeated joined the pantheon of one-hundred gods, and prayers were divided equally from the worshipers among them.

In more recent times, the Hundred Gods have found this equitable arrangement useful – as they call upon their followers to eradicate the other faiths of the world. What Cyzar envisioned as a single pantheon has instead turned into a power block that bullies individual gods into extinction – few are allowed to join the ranks of the Hundred Gods in modern times. Cyzar’s dream to end the Darkness of Faith has only changed it.
Or so most scholars would claim: not so the ‘Children of the One’, the followers of the All-Father, his clerics and Paladins, part of the Hundred Gods. He, as the first of the Hundred Gods, has helped steer his brethren a little – but now has decided it is the mortals who need to show the gods the way. His paladins seek to unify, not destroy. His clerics seek to convert not to cast out. His voice, the choir of his mortal followers, preaches a union and a dream of harmony and equity.

Six hundred and seven years have passed since Cyzar enlightened upon the mountainside.  There are still rogue gods who evade the Hundred, still demons who twist their followers, and still powerful elemental spirits who demand worship from more pragmatic followers via their priests, the druids.

Nekovka
Nestled between mountain ranges that stripe the land like the ribs of some mighty beast, heavily wooded valleys house towns and villages in the Dutchy of Nekovka. Lakes and rivers provide the best means to transport and communicate between these different communities, all of whom know that the One Hundred Gods are all that stand between them and desolation. The remoteness of some of the areas makes them suspect in their fidelity to the Theocratic Senate and to the Faith of the Hundred Gods.

The Dutchy’s central administration is based in Milano, on the coast, and barges head upriver to the three smaller towns which in turn are joined by tributaries to smaller settlements. The duke’s soldiers patrol only the main river with their fancy muskets and shining breastplates. The smaller towns must hire yeomen of their own to police the waterways and protect trade, people, and property.  The Duke is more concerned with his shows of piety and popularity. He builds statues and monuments but not temples or hospitals. He puts on grand games and deadly shows but does not invest in the safety of his more remote subjects. He builds power, a giant fleet sits at harbor, awaiting the day for the election of a new Cyzar, when he can seize power, so it is whispered, or else sail across the Sea of Claws and take foreign lands without waiting for permission, or asking for it. His target – the jewel of the Free Seas, the Kingdom of Scalabar.

Whitebirch is a smaller town far removed from Milano. It sits on the confluence of two major tributaries to the Kovka river and is a hub for several smaller settlements. It is here, the campaign begins. Only three months ago, the High Cleric, Drgoslav, was run out of town, wounded, after he betrayed his post and kidnapped one of the townspeople’s daughters to use in a dark sacrifice. The town’s yeomanry has been hunting for any sign of him, the temple wants to find him and clear their names and the Darkness of Faith that they feel they are under.  As if woes of the town could not have been enough, now some sort of horrendous foe preys upon the river-barge traffic between Dramsburg and Whitebirch.

The local temple begs for volunteers from among their acolytes, and folk heroes.  The guilds put up rewards and pressure their members for some volunteers to seek revenge on Dragoslav the Curse from among their artisans, Entertainers. The town council calls upon the nobles, outlanders, sailors, soldiers. While the danger is cramping the income from poteen coming upriver from Dramsburg and putting criminal proceeds in jeopardy.