The world of Ibos, is a world to draw hope and inspiration. Not because it is without devastating conquest or the red blade of the grim reaper, but because it is a world that continued to spin despite the darkness that consumes it. In an age long archaic, a great malice conquered the world and changed it forever, abandoned by their gods, reduced to less than a single percent of the inhabitants population, people survived. Survived and flourished.
Tribes grew from a handful of ravaged bodies to empires of philosophy and progress. Economies grew from seeds of desperation into great forests of aspiration and diversity. Social structures evolved, governments formed and fell, but the eyes of the world always kept a lustful eye to the past behind them, praying to the shadowed memories of the gods, and hording the mementos of the past age, they lived, but they longed for what had been.
The Great Darkness that seemed to be the end so long ago, formed, it is said, from many great red daggers that cut the heavens themselves, and from those blistering wounds came a great flood of oily ebony blood. When the droplets hit the fertile earth they crackled, scorched, and wheezed with acrid smoke that reaped life from all it touched. There was no running, there was no escape. Those who put trust in their divine protectors died on their knees in prayer as their skin drooped from the acidic rain, and their lungs heaved and struggled for fresh air. Those that survived mostly did so because of the graceful protection of the birth of a new self-proclaimed goddess Oresis.
Oresis conjured a barrier between the small hamlet of Strat and the death which rained down upon the world. Though the acidic rain took much of her mortal body, her soul grew to that which built an empire to save the world. Those who know this story to be true worship her as the seventh divinity in the pillar of six.
Though there are those who reject her as divine, some with violence to match heresy, but most as respectful declination. Those that split off from her empire and those that lived below the surface far before the gods revealed themselves upon The world of Ibos.
This is the world you find yourselves in, one which was reborn from an acidic ash that grew to be a raptor of fire.