Balancing the Scales
Humanity thought it was alone on the planet.
The elder races, the elves and dwarves, had been gone so long they were no more than myth. The last known giant died in captivity 400 years ago. The last dragon was slain a millenia before that. Magic was a thing of folktales and fantasy. People no longer believed in spirits, in magic, in gods. Mankind strove to understand the world in scientific terms. They dug up every ancient temple and tomb they could find, seeking the truth of the past.
Like the dwarves before them, they dug too greedily, and too deep.
A tomb was found, older by eons than any before. The seal on it was dated to 300,000 years before the rise of the first human empire. Scientists scoffed, insisting the dating techniques must be flawed. They opened the crypt, and found grave goods in abundance. Some of them were odd, their purpose unknown, their size and shape not suited to human, or even elven or dwarven hands.
Then, they found the inner chamber.
The sarcophagus was 10 feet long, oddly narrow for its length. The room was full of jars, covering shelves on every wall, clustered in groups on the floor. All the jars were hermetically sealed. One scientist, in awe, gingerly touched the carven top of the stone casket, the bas relief portraying a fanciful figure, with the torso of a man, but the head and tail of a snake, the flaring hood of a cobra. He was dead before he hit the floor, every ounce of fluid in his body sucked out, somehow drained into the stone of the sarcophagus. And then, it opened.
Only one person made it out of that tomb alive.
The world called her mad, as she gibbered helplessly about the snake thing that rose from the crypt and slew all of the expedition. It spoke to her, in her mind, saying, “I am returned. Tell your world I am come back for what is mine. Death is undone, for me and mine, but all things require sacrifice. Tell them to make peace with their gods, for their end is nigh.”
The world scoffed.
But now they know fear. The nation where the tomb was found fell within days under the onslaught of the scaled things the Serpent Lord called back to life or a semblance thereof, and the eldritch magics they wielded. So called 'modern' humanity had no defenses, and their weapons were useless.
Now the Serpent Lord marshals his forces, consolidates his gains.
Some fall on their knees in supplication, hoping to be spared, willing to serve, in order to retain their lives. Others prepare to fight, but their mightiest weapons have been rendered inert, and others were of no help to begin with.
The Old Ways must be rediscovered.
Only magic and courage will save us now. Find the weapons that long ago were crafted against this threat, learn the eldritch ways of the enemy, or all is lost. Find allies, somewhere, somehow, despite all we did to rid this world of any but ourselves.
Humanity faces a threat against which science, guns, and steel, are useless, just as it enters an industrial age.
Primordial powers from the dawn of time return, bringing both necromancy and magical bioengineering with them.
Long dead creatures are given new life, from dinosaurs to serpent folk, and the dead of the their foes are animated as skeletal troops once the flesh is consumed.
Delve deep into forgotten troves of lore and magic to find the weapons that can turn the tide.
