The Blood of Dead Gods

"The world has abandoned the old ways. We have not. We  will be raised up, proven, when all else  fails."

"Proven to who? The gods are dead, the world is doomed by it. What ways?"

"They will return. We are being tested. We remain strong."

"You're mad. All Shar are fucking mad and you'll doom us."

The gods, who hated each other with a force and passion beyond our understanding, came to a world filled with life, and saw that it had tools to their liking.  It's life was varied and strong, it's stone and trees filled with power.  Thus they came here to make war.

The gods each made tools in their own image. The Aelth were raised from small, fierce and strange predators, their nature half plant and half animal. The Shar were made from the great lizards of the swamps, venomous and deadly. The Sava from desert cats, the Men from plains apes, the Geb from the hunters of the mountain slopes, the Kin from the skulking beasts that fed off the leavings of others. Each was made as a weapon to be used against the others.  The Duer were different, made from the living stone itself, and kept close by their gods, their tool makers and the guardians of their secret places.  For eons, the gods fought, and their creations fought, sometimes at the gods' side, sometimes on their own. The plains ran with blood, an the sky shook with power. And then the gods died. In a final act of desperate hatred, they destroyed each other with a poison of corruption so vile and powerful that it destroyed them all, and spilled their poisoned blood out into the earth.  They left behind only the poison that spelled their deaths, and the lost creations that were once the tools of their wars

The World of Maeleff


Maeleff, southern continent.

A vaguely dark-fantasy/steampunky/squamous fantasy world. Possibly for an RPG, maybe for fiction, I really haven't decided yet.

The idea for the world started with a single conceit: a fantasy world where the gods had died, coming close to destroying the world in the process. The gods had been at war for aeons, when one of them, in a bid to destroy all of his enemies, let loose a weapon he had crafted from strange energies found at the far, wild edges of the universe. That weapon proved far more effective than he had known or hoped, undoing all of the gods, and sowing poison in the magical power that was their sole remaining legacy to the races they created.

If you're interested in the creative process (such as it is) I'm haphazardly blogging my world creation at



Written and copyrighted by Christopher R. Invidiata.

Art by David Britt, Chris Invidiata and Teh Intarwebs.

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