It is the End of an Era
Although no one dares say it, the age of the Sorcerer Kings is fading. Their constant willful use of defiling magics spells doom for all the city states. They and their templars shall cast their spells until the last stretches of fertile land in the Tyr Region wither away and crumble into dust. Every passing year is merely one year closer to when the crops stop growing, the livestock perish, and the people begin to starve.
Many remain blissfully unaware of their inevitable fate, having been convinced of the divinity of the Sorcerer Kinds, believing that this is how things always were, and how they always shall be. However, a growing number has begun to whisper amongst themselves about the doom that is upon them. Unrest is brewing, and though none say the word aloud, rebellion is on their minds. Only time will tell if the Sorcerer Kings can weather the oncoming storm.
But still the question remains- what of the people cast out of their lands? When all is laid to ruin and the slaves turn on their masters, where then will they go? Is there anywhere left where civilization can thrive, or must they fall to savagery like the halflings of the Forest Ridge? Do the people have any hope of deliverance? Who will shepherd them out of this nightmare and into a new beginnig?