Metal World

Metal World is a large chunk of obsidian, carved up into a floating island and coursing with a lava-system of volcanic mountains and flaming rivers. The land is tarnished by unending war and the air is toxic and unbreathable. Here lives the immortal deities known as ‘Mascots’. Metal World sits within a deserted dimension in the vacuum of a million black holes. Beyond space. At a place in time, somewhere between the preexistence and birth of the universe. Long ago the great Kingscythe ruled a hefty fraction of Metal World alongside his sorcerer, Saint Salem, advisor, DaimondFell, and general, Axeland. The other half of Metal World was coveted by the powerful Spectrallia, who ruled alongside his disciples, Venombath, Dethseed, Rotmouth and Deathztar. The Grand Reaper held the life spans of these immortal, demonic beings in check, while the holy-king, Lionwing, travelled the land to bring righteousness.

Above the land the entity, Holy Claw, spoke down to Metal World’s inhabitants, corrupting them. Sulfurdeath and Hellmower served the Holy Claw, carrying out evil missions with their counterparts, MagnumKoven and Darkcult. Spectrallia was advised by the wicked entity, Fiendhead, who was at constant battle with the undead cybernetic complex, Vile Mind; who, at the time, held no allegiance to any ruler. Vile Mind dwelled beneath Metal World, in constant war with the forces of the Twisted Tyrant and often corrupting the freedom fighter, Riot Roth, who was led by his superior, Van-Vulcan. To the north rested the ancient being, Hollow Frost and his wizard, Iron Apocalypse. Their tomb remained ever-guarded by the mage, Leather Malice and his younger brother, PoisonedBreath. Finally, there wandered the warlock, Kill Kane, who always ensured that Metal World was in a never-ending state of conflict and destruction.

Beneath the earth, or a thorny cluster of land and fire floating amidst a sea of stars and void, there; lying within the caverns of the planet's ribbed core, made up of bone-like materials of petrified calcium and fleshy-raw corridors of veins and muscle, there; lived a being known as The Vile Mind. The Mind was a skull, molded to an ancient-brain and metallic in some areas. Mind was bonded with sheets of iron and steel, with one eye glowing red, wired up to the vast complexes of machine and muscle which fed the Mind information from all across the floating cluster he, and his, called Metal World. The Vile Mind, though driven to the core of this floating island of fire and obsidian, was a Mascot.

Mascots were the demons, and wraiths, and reapers, and hulks, and horrors, and beasts, and undead and malicious sentient evils that called Metal World, along with the Metal Dimension, their home. The Metal Dimension was a plane of fire, blackness and steel: and together these three elements rained supreme over all things, as Metal World itself, referred to by its inhabitants most famously as ‘The Cluster’, was infamously known as the epitome of carnage and chaos; where all souls came to be casted into unrest. To watch and command over the dominions of this unrest came the irrefutable law of the Mascots and their ranks.

Metal World festered; the aftermath of a devastating war. Here, chaos and destruction were law. The Mascots functioned much like the immortal gods of Greek mythology: whereas each one held dominion, or was representative, of specific elements, principles or otherwise that made up the Metal Dimension. And so, it is with the every-day treachery of these immortal demonic entities in which this tale of destruction finally begins:

A very long stretch of centuries ago, in a time when Metal World stood as a marvelous globe of spherical inadequacy, a war was spawned which separated the inhabitants of the inglorious into two fractions which both held conflicting ideologies as to how the future of Metal World was to be shaped. This series of conflicts came to be dubbed as ‘The M-World Wars’. There was the Order of the Veteris who, in the highest regard, demanded that the occult and demonic ways of their world should remain.

That the mystic and spiritual systems of un-life and sentience on their planet should remain as it was in the old days. That was, untainted by technology and the cold metal reasoning of the new age. The Order of Veteris summoned up hordes of demons and all the hellfire they could muster. They raised endless ranks of the undead and cast spells across the landscape to melt the machines that threatened their ways.

Wyverns and the souls of the tortured and damned filled the skies which rained comets of poisonous gas; collapsing into the earth and shattering volcanic plains. Fire came forth and torched the tarnished surface, as screams echoed from within the planet’s deepest crevices, flowing outward into space until being lost amongst the unheard ethos. There also existed the Order of Novus who, most viciously, believed that the world of magic and legends was dead, and that science and machines should rule in the new world to come. So, they took to scrap-making and built their factories across fields of ashes.

The Order of Novus drove drills into the ground and mined through sacred earth to spite the gods of old and plant their assertively established dominance. However, not all the artificial intelligence, not all the nano-beds, not all the iron and steel, not all the effort in the world could halt the endless power of the enigma known as fire; as well as the untold powers which were carried with it. And so, it was upon the last day of the Metal Wars that the flames of the surface melted away the last of the Novus’ factories had drove the remaining traitors of the old-way deep beneath the planet.

For a day, or two, there dwelled the last four survivors of the Order of Novus. And within the earth they salvaged their melted machines and shredded automatons. As the Order of Veteris celebrated their victory, and dined within a hall of bones, wine and the violation of virgins, the desolate mascots who had turned on their brethren and embraced the defiling nature of technology had one final act to commit. And act that would change Metal World forever.

You see, in spite of their defeat the last four Novus built a bomb. One of absolutely outrageous proportions. From the salvaged leftovers of their fallen allies an explosive was crafted to crack the foundation of Metal World in half. The way the Novus’ saw it, if the world could not embrace the new age, then this world wasn't worth embracing.

Then, silent at first, there came a white noise which carried with it an almost instant light. This light, greater than fire, split the very fabric of the Metal Dimension, cracking the Mascot’s planet into bits and chunks of floating island with one singular cluster of earth, floating without consequence. Their planet was destroyed, and this island in space, locked in a sea of unreachable stars, was their home now.

The Vile Mind, leader of the Novus and the self-proclaimed lord of the new age of metal, took full responsibility for Metalworld’s destruction and vowed to rebuild the planet anew, that was, once the remaining inhabitants swore allegiance to Vile Mind and his followers; few as they were. With a heavy population of their race wiped out, followers of the old-way continue the unending conflict against the efforts of Vile Mind and the pressing threat of twisted-technology. Thus comes the struggle of the new world, torn by the metal of old, and the metal of anew.