Upon request for a backstory, I drafted a short description of the fictitious events and periods surrounding the existence of... This.


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They say history is written by the victor, but if you go back far enough often times it is merely passed on by the survivors. Sometimes, what little is known is known only to a few, and on occasion this is no accident. Before written history, or at least that which has been preserved to modern day, entire civilizations could rise and fall over the course of centuries, unbeknownst even to civilizations that rival the fallen in scale, technology, and sophistication. More often than not, those lost may take great knowledge with them that may not be revealed again for millennia.

Of particular interest is a small, seldom heard of people who have been rather aptly dubbed “the demon tamers”. Their curious, short-lived society existed buried deep within the forests of western North America. For their time, their knowledge of metallurgy, forging, metal-working, and even geoengineering were utterly unmatched, granting them virtual immunity from the pressures of both nature and fellow man. Instead, their worries lay deep in the earth's mantle, the very place they had bored miles of tunnels through dirt, clay, and rock in pursuit of the precious ores which granted them their prosperity.

The evolutionary pressures of prehistoric Earth had too made the subterranean domain a desirable domicile, a valid niche for any organisms able to fill it. As with all other fertile and life sustaining points of darwinian contention, competitive lifeforms eventually met their match and naturally fell into an evolutionary arms race. In the end, it was ultimately survival of the fittest, and in the harsh catacombs of the earth's crust, the fittest were easy to discern. Eventually a single, refined, deadly species rose to the top of the food chain, and had only itself to compete with, forcing each individual creature to far reaches of the vast, dark world of the underground.

As the tamers continued to revel in the undisputed riches of the earth, burrowing further and deeper into the mantle, the fragile barrier that had separated the overworld and underworld was finally breached. The people who thought this second realm entirely their own broke through their familiar tunnel walls into a world entirely alien, stumbling upon networks of caves vaster and more expansive than their wildest imaginings. The warm air of the surface, thick with the smells of rich ecosystems and thriving with life flooded into this new world, imperceptibly beckoning forth the beasts of the darkness. The sweet air tickled their senses, and those pushed to the edges of their territory were driven by an unending compulsion to covet this promising new food supply. Swiftly and unceremoniously, the miners and explorers that plunged themselves into the deep stopped returning, as did any who sought the reason why.

Faint rumblings grew to quakes that shook the earth, collapsed tunnels, destroyed settlements, and closed shut the flowing veins of the civilization so dependent on the metals and minerals that ran through them. The leviathans had come, seeking that which would let them thrive.

Thrive they most certainly did, proliferating to the point of visibly altering the landscape, creating sinkholes, pits, caves, changing the course of rivers and draining lakes to their beds. They preyed on flora and fauna alike, from simple algae and fish taken along with the lakes and rivers, to forests and settlements populated in the hundreds. Those afflicted by this seemingly apocalyptic horde saw them as the embodiment of the wrath of their gods, a truly wicked and divine punishment to cleanse the earth of those who had strayed from the divine will.

As with many ancient civilizations believing they faced the end at the hands of unhappy deities, the demon tamers began a practice of ritualistic sacrifice. Hoping that a demonstration of their willingness to give their lives to the demons sent to eradicate them would appease the gods which they had angered, they used their skills and knowledge to construct elaborate sacrificial grounds on which to perform the ceremonies of sacrifice.

To their delight, this worked, though not for the reasons they'd concluded. The act of nurturing a single creature encouraged its permanent residence, letting it grow strong and rooting its territory, invisibly protecting against the uncontrolled destruction of rival beasts. The presence of the tamed and the need to appease them became a fact of life.

Unfortunately for their newfound complacent demons, it is human nature to explore, learn, and inevitably exploit what they know to leverage some gain or benefit. With what amounted to tenuously captive specimens available for close-up study, the scribes and hunters of the tamers gradually grew increasingly knowledgable of the strengths and weaknesses of these beasts. When the time finally came, the knowledge was spread, and the plan set in motion. They would free themselves and hunt the leviathans to extinction. Many had been raised with the notion that these beasts were of divine origin, and were resistant that they might anger the gods once more, but they weren't enough to stop the determined peoples from trying to reclaim their homes and the tunnels beneath them.

The sacrificial shafts were lined with rails, massive harpoons of carbon steel alloys were forged, placed, and prepared to be sprung upon the waiting beasts below. One by one, they lured the leviathans to their usual places of residence, and unleashed the deadly trap. The harpoons shrieked down the rails, striking the beasts and recoiling to winch them from their roots. The hunters descended upon them, butchering the beasts and rending flesh from flesh, cartilage from bone, bringing endless supplies of meat, tusk, and sinew to the waiting villages above.

Through time the ranks of the beasts were thinned, tunnels filled, and perimeters rebuilt. The once prospering mining industry that had moved rock, metals, and minerals through tunnels like the lifeblood of a civilization flowing the cool veins of the earth had been replaced by a dutiful sentry force ensuring none violated the domain of the beast, and kept the vulnerable surface dwellers safe to rebuild and thrive once more. Gradually with the colonization of the Americas, plague and disease brushed the surface dwellers from the lands, leaving behind the husks of their society, perplexingly advanced structures and architecture that would baffle and strike worry into the encroaching colonists of foreign nations. Rumor suggests their reach was not total, and perhaps the last vestiges of the Tamers remain dutifully protecting the overworld from the horrors below. Today, this history is merely legend, passed down verbally between surviving satellite nations that once bordered the powerful territories of the tamers. What credibility can be offered to the truth of these tales is quickly shouldered off by any you might ask, but deep within the coniferous forests of North America, you might still find traces of these once great peoples and the practices they maintained for hundreds of years…


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I hope this didn't violate anyone's preconceptions or expectations, I realize half the interest in this map was the mystery of its nature but since it was asked you can choose to use this canon if you like.