For more than a decade following the Great Upheaval, Bane the Lawgiver answered the prayers of his faithful with naught but silence. His church foundered. Even the most steadfast believers struggled against a crisis of faith.
People across the Core boasted that the iron-fisted deity had died. Tongues wagged from Skald to Il Aluk that the Goblinslayers of the Iron Crown were responsible. Only a handful of the Lawgiver's most zealous weathered this time with their faith intact. When a new deity, Xvim the Godson, claimed Bane’s portfolio, even the reigning Himmelske Naeve knelt before the new power.
But Bane was not dead.
One evening when the Goblinslayers were at the height of their power, the Lawgiver erupted from the corporeal body of his own son. Men and women across the Core dreamed of a dark figure standing in a dark cathedral, judging them with unblinking eyes wreathed in green flame. That very night the Lawgiver clenched his fist. The reward for their loyalty during his long silence has been closer scrutiny than ever before. Bane's hold over his church is absolute.
Today, Bane has turned his eyes on the home of those who were said to have silenced him. Dreadmasters have made the journey north into Darkon. But their goals are inscrutable. They roam the borderlands, defending those who accept their rightful position in life. Those who seek to outgrow their birthright, though, find less compassion in the black-robed priests.