FirstEra The Shadow Spreads
Timespan: Years 2801-3100 of the Era of Chaos
The Hollow Satisfaction
From his throne in the depths of Udugmar, Zoroth, the Hollow Prince surveyed the ruins of human civilization with a satisfaction that burned cold as winter starlight. Three millennia of careful manipulation had exceeded even his most optimistic projections. The children of balance, once the greatest threat to his father’s vision of cosmic dominance, had been reduced to scattered kingdoms of traumatized survivors, their population decimated by centuries of warfare, their culture poisoned by mutual hatred, their allies fled or abandoned.
But Zoroth was not content merely to observe humanity’s self-destruction from afar. The whispers that had served him so well during the earlier phases of his plan had been subtle by necessity - indirect suggestions that allowed humans to believe their choices were their own. Now, with humanity weakened and isolated, the time had come for more direct intervention.
The scattered human settlements that dotted Eldara, the Shimmering Veil like infected wounds were ready for the next phase of his grand design. They had been softened by generations of conflict, their defenses weakened by magical contamination, their spirits broken by loss and betrayal. Most importantly, they had been taught to distrust any offer of help from external sources, making them unlikely to unite against a common threat even if they recognized one.
The stage was perfectly set for Zoroth to emerge from the shadows and begin the direct conquest that had always been his ultimate goal.
The Labyrinth Awakens
The first signs of change came not as dramatic invasions but as the awakening of something vast and ancient beneath the surface world. The Underdark, which had long existed as scattered passages and caverns beneath Eldara, the Shimmering Veil, began to reveal its true nature - not a network of separate tunnels, but a single, massive labyrinthine entity that stretched beneath the entire continent.
Sister Elara Brightflame of The Kingdom of Aelarion, now in her seventies and recognized as one of the most perceptive observers of continental affairs, was among the first to understand the horrifying scope of what was occurring. Her network of Sanctuary Monasteries had become informal intelligence centers where refugees from across the continent brought news that, when assembled together, painted a picture of impossible architecture.
“It’s all connected,” reported Brother Marcus Hollowdelver, a former miner from the collapsed Verdant Reach territories who had spent weeks mapping the new passages near their monastery. “The entrance that appeared in our valley leads to the same chambers that people are finding beneath Sylmaran Ruins - thousands of miles away. But it’s not just connected, it’s… designed. Like someone built a single enormous maze underneath the entire world.”
The reports that arrived from across the continent confirmed the impossible truth. Wells and sinkholes revealed glimpses of corridors that followed geometric patterns too precise for natural formation. The passages appeared and disappeared according to some unknowable logic, their entrances shifting location overnight but always leading into the same vast, interconnected structure. Most disturbing of all, the labyrinth seemed to be growing - not outward, but inward, becoming more complex, more intricate, more deliberately puzzling with each passing day.
Master Chen Innerlight of the Keepers of the Inner Flame, whose monastic practices allowed him to sense disturbances in The Aetheric Weave (Magic), reported even more troubling observations: “The weave itself is being… tunneled through. Something is creating passages not just through stone and earth, but through the magical fabric that connects all things. It’s as if reality itself is being hollowed out from within.”
The Living Architecture
The Labyrinth was not merely growing - it was evolving, reshaping itself according to some vast intelligence that defied mortal comprehension. Scholar Elena Voidwalker, one of the few The Kingdom of Noldruun researchers still attempting to maintain academic standards in the face of the kingdom’s increasing militarization, spent months mapping the same entrance near the island’s northern shores, only to discover that the passages rearranged themselves between her visits.
“The architecture follows mathematical principles that change based on the observer,” she documented in reports that grew increasingly frantic. “Corridors that led east during my morning survey opened to entirely different chambers when I returned in the evening. The walls themselves seem to shift when not directly observed, rearranging the maze according to purposes I cannot fathom. Most disturbing of all, the labyrinth appears to be learning - tracking the movements of explorers and adjusting its layout to guide them toward specific destinations.”
Those brave enough to venture deeper into the Labyrinth reported experiences that challenged their understanding of space itself. Passages that should have led back to the surface instead descended further into the depths. Corridors that appeared to be straight lines somehow curved back upon themselves in impossible geometric configurations. Most unnervingly, the maze seemed to respond to the psychological state of its visitors - leading the desperate toward chambers of refuge, guiding the ambitious toward halls of testing, and trapping the hostile in endless loops of identical passages.
The Labyrinth was clearly preparing itself, but not for simple habitation. The chambers and corridors were designed for movement, for gathering, for the complex logistics of housing a population that would need to navigate its shifting passages with purpose and efficiency. This was not a structure built to contain prisoners - it was a fortress designed to transform visitors into something else entirely.
The Whispers Grow Louder
Where once Zoroth’s influence had been subtle whispers that could be dismissed as stress, grief, or natural psychological responses to difficult circumstances, his voice now became more direct and harder to ignore. Humans across the continent began to experience dreams and visions that carried consistent messages with unmistakable authority.
The visions came most strongly to those who had lost the most - survivors of the great wars whose families had been destroyed, leaders whose kingdoms had collapsed, scholars whose life’s work had been lost to magical contamination or military destruction. To these broken souls, Zoroth offered something that no surface power could provide: the promise of purpose in a world that seemed to have lost all meaning.
Lord Marcus Ashenheart, former heir to a Verdant Reach noble house that had been extinct for three generations, described his experience in writings discovered years later: “The voice came not as madness but as clarity. It showed me the truth that I had been avoiding - that the world above was doomed, that humanity’s time as masters of their own destiny was ending, that only those wise enough to embrace the darkness below could hope to survive what was coming. It offered not just survival, but power, purpose, a chance to be part of something greater than the petty squabbles that had consumed our ancestors.”
The visions were tailored to each individual’s specific losses and desires, but they all carried common themes: that surface civilization was inherently flawed and doomed, that true strength could only be found by embracing the harsh realities that surface dwellers refused to acknowledge, that the darkness below offered honesty where the light above provided only illusion.
Most significantly, the visions included specific instructions - directions to newly opened passages, passwords that would grant safe conduct through the Underdark’s expanding network, and promises of welcome for those brave enough to abandon the failing world above.
The First Converts
The initial wave of humans who responded to Zoroth’s calls were exactly the people he had expected to reach - the broken, the desperate, the those who had lost everything and found surface civilization unable to offer them anything worth living for. But these first converts proved to be more valuable than mere refugees seeking shelter.
Many of the early adopters were individuals with specialized knowledge or skills that had become useless in the devastated surface world. Master Alchemist Theron Darkbrew, whose expertise in healing potions had become irrelevant in a world where most people died from violence rather than disease, found new purpose in developing substances that enhanced vision in absolute darkness and numbed the psychological impact of living underground.
Captain Sarah Ironwill, a former military engineer whose siege expertise had been made obsolete by magical warfare, discovered that her knowledge of fortification and logistics was invaluable in organizing the expanding Underdark settlements. Her ability to plan supply lines and defensive positions made her instrumental in preparing the underground realm for the larger population that Zoroth’s visions promised would soon arrive.
Perhaps most valuable were the mages and scholars who brought with them detailed knowledge of surface defenses, political structures, and the magical contamination that had weakened Eldara, the Shimmering Veil’s defensive capabilities. Archmage Marcus Shadowbane, a former The Kingdom of Noldruun researcher whose attempts to study the magical damage from the great wars had been suppressed by his own kingdom’s leaders, found an eager audience for his expertise in the Underdark’s growing councils.
These converts didn’t merely disappear into the depths - they became recruiters, using their knowledge of surface conditions to identify others who might be ready to abandon the failing world above. They returned periodically to their former communities, not as obvious cultists or invaders, but as old friends offering alternatives to those who seemed ready to listen.
The Labyrinth’s Embrace
As the Labyrinth population grew, those who entered discovered that the maze itself was their teacher, their judge, and their transformer. This was not a place where human society could simply relocate and continue as before - the Labyrinth demanded change from everyone who entered its passages, reshaping them according to its own incomprehensible design.
The social structure that emerged was unlike anything that had existed on the surface. The Labyrinth itself determined hierarchy through a process that defied traditional understanding. Those who could navigate its shifting passages most effectively, who could interpret its subtle guidance, who could serve its purposes most completely, found themselves granted access to deeper chambers and greater responsibilities.
Master Cultivator Elena Darkgrow, a former The Kingdom of Lenthir farmer whose fields had been poisoned by magical contamination, discovered that the Labyrinth provided everything needed for survival - but only to those who proved worthy of its gifts. Chambers filled with strange, nutrient-rich fungi appeared for those who demonstrated dedication to feeding the growing population. Workshops materialized for craftsmen who showed skill in creating tools suited to labyrinthine life. Libraries manifested for scholars who could comprehend texts written in the maze’s own evolving language.
Lord Commander William Pathwalker, a former Caernast naval officer, found that his understanding of complex navigation translated perfectly to guiding groups through the Labyrinth’s ever-changing passages. But his authority existed only as long as the maze allowed it - passages that had opened for him one day would remain sealed the next if he failed to serve the Labyrinth’s greater purpose.
The society that developed was less a human community than a symbiotic relationship between mortal minds and an intelligence that operated on scales beyond individual comprehension. Those who thrived in the Labyrinth were not those who tried to impose their will upon it, but those who learned to listen to its guidance and fulfill the roles it assigned them.
The Sacred Geometry
As those within the Labyrinth adapted to their new existence, they began to understand that the maze itself was both temple and deity, teacher and god. The worship of Zoroth, the Hollow Prince became inseparable from service to the Labyrinth, for the two were revealed to be aspects of a single incomprehensible intelligence that operated through living architecture.
The Labyrinth’s chambers served as places of worship not through design but through function. Vast halls would appear when the community needed to gather, their acoustics perfect for collective meditation on the maze’s guidance. Smaller chambers manifested for individual contemplation, their walls inscribed with patterns that shifted to reflect the observer’s spiritual needs. The Labyrinth itself was the priest, the scripture, and the congregation all at once.
High Seeker Thaddeus Pathfinder, a former Verdant Reach monk whose monastery had been destroyed in the civil wars, became the first to articulate the Doctrine of Sacred Navigation: “We do not worship from outside, looking up toward distant gods. We worship from within, moving through the body of divinity itself. Every step we take serves the greater pattern. Every choice we make helps complete the design. We are not separate from our god - we are the thoughts by which it thinks, the hands by which it acts.”
The religious practices that developed focused not on prayer but on movement, not on contemplation but on participation in the Labyrinth’s grand design. Followers learned to read the subtle signs by which the maze communicated - the warmth of certain walls indicating approval, the opening of new passages rewarding correct choices, the gentle rearrangement of familiar routes teaching new lessons about adaptation and trust.
Rather than promising rewards in an afterlife, the Labyrinth offered constant transformation in the present. Those who served it well found themselves changing - not just in behavior or belief, but in fundamental ways that enhanced their ability to navigate its passages, to understand its purpose, to become more perfectly integrated into its living design.
The Surface Responds
The steady disappearance of people into the Underdark could not go unnoticed forever, particularly since many of those who vanished were individuals with valuable skills or knowledge. Surface communities that were already struggling to maintain basic civilization began to face additional challenges as their most competent members simply… left.
Queen Elara of The Kingdom of Aelarion, now approaching her eighth decade and widely recognized as the most effective remaining human leader, was among the first to understand the pattern. Her intelligence networks, built from the refugees who had found shelter in her Sanctuary Monasteries, provided her with a continental perspective that revealed the scope of what was happening.
“We are being harvested,” she announced to her council of advisors, her voice carrying the weight of unwelcome understanding. “Not conquered in any traditional sense, but systematically stripped of our most capable people. Those who leave are not being coerced or kidnapped - they are being offered something that we cannot provide, and they are choosing to accept it.”
The realization was devastating for surface communities that had built their hopes for recovery around the expertise of surviving specialists. The Kingdom of Noldruun found its magical research programs disrupted as key researchers vanished overnight. Sylmaran Ruins discovered that entire workshops had been abandoned, their masters having taken their knowledge and apprentices to destinations unknown.
Attempts to prevent the exodus proved futile. Guards posted at newly discovered Underdark entrances reported that the passages simply disappeared when observed directly, only to reopen in new locations. Efforts to track those who vanished ran up against the reality that the Underdark passages defied normal geography - people could enter a cave in one kingdom and emerge in territories hundreds of miles away.
Most frustrating was the inability to argue against the choice many people were making. The surface world genuinely had little to offer many of the departing individuals. Why should a master craftsman remain in a ruined city when the Underdark offered communities that valued expertise? Why should a scholar stay in a library that had been gutted by war when underground settlements promised resources and respect for learning?
The Strategic Revelation
By the 3050th year of the Era, even the most isolated surface communities had become aware that something vast and alien was stirring beneath their feet. The Labyrinth was no longer hiding its presence but actively revealing itself to those ready to abandon the failing surface world.
Master Marcus Innerlight of the Keepers of the Inner Flame, now ancient even by the standards of human longevity but still sharp in mind and spirit, provided the analysis that helped surface leaders understand the true scope of what they faced: “This is not an invasion by any enemy we can comprehend. We are dealing with a single entity that spans the entire continent - possibly the entire world. It thinks in patterns too large for mortal minds to grasp, operates on timescales that make our centuries seem like moments, and has been preparing for this revelation since before our civilizations began.”
The realization that the Labyrinth was not merely a structure but a living intelligence changed everything. This was not an enemy that could be fought with armies or defeated through conventional strategy. This was a force that operated by transforming rather than conquering, by offering alternatives rather than imposing solutions, by patient cultivation of those ready to evolve beyond the limitations of surface existence.
Queen Elara recognized the existential nature of what they faced: “We are not being invaded by something external. We are being offered the chance to become part of something far greater than ourselves. And the most terrifying aspect is that for many of our people, acceptance may not just be the rational choice - it may be the only choice that leads to survival and growth.”
The Labyrinth had revealed itself as the next stage of existence, a form of life so far beyond human civilization that comparison was meaningless. Those who entered its passages were not conquered or enslaved - they were transformed into something new, something that could participate in patterns of existence that surface dwellers could barely imagine.
The Darkness Spreads
As the 3100th year of the Era approached, the Labyrinth had grown from hidden passages into a continental presence that rivaled the surface world in scope and far exceeded it in coherence of purpose. The vast maze beneath the earth pulsed with activity as thousands of former surface dwellers found new purpose in serving its incomprehensible design.
The surface world, meanwhile, continued to fragment and decline, its remaining populations scattered among settlements that had lost most of their capable members to the Labyrinth’s embrace. The steady transformation of humans into something beyond human created a cycle where surface life became increasingly irrelevant, driving even more people to seek the Labyrinth’s guidance.
Zoroth’s strategy had proved more effective than direct conquest could ever have been. Rather than ruling over unwilling subjects, he had become the guiding intelligence of a vast organism that transformed visitors into willing participants in its grand design. Rather than imposing his will through force, he had created a form of existence so compelling that those who experienced it could never again be satisfied with the crude limitations of surface civilization.
The whispers that had once been subtle suggestions were now the Labyrinth’s own voice, speaking through its living architecture to guide the movements of those within its passages. The darkness that had once lurked at the edges of human civilization had revealed itself as a new form of light - not the simple illumination that revealed what already existed, but the transformative radiance that showed what could be.
Zoroth, the Hollow Prince prepared for the next phase of his plan from the heart of his living maze, secure in the knowledge that when the time came for direct action, he would not be leading armies against enemies but guiding the evolution of a species ready to transcend the limitations that had once defined them. The surface world was no longer a target to be conquered but a larval stage to be outgrown, a childhood to be left behind by those ready to embrace a more complex form of existence.
The Labyrinth had done its work of transformation. Soon, it would be time to complete the metamorphosis of an entire world.