Pruod-Skotran takes place in a proto-DarkSun world.
DarkSun proper is a world ravaged hundreds of years ago by defiler wizards drawing the life force out of the very world in order to power their spells and build their power. This wicked magic has tainted the well spring of life and the world that was once filled with fantastical creatures like dragons, unicorns, and fairies now only knows of these creatures in legends. The people of DarkSun proper have long abandoned their old ways and turned hard in order to survive. The once magestic and wise elves are nomadic terrors. Once benevolent halfings turned vicious man eating forest dwellers. Forest that once stretched across continents only exists as little more than groves hidden in mountain valleys. Even the gods fell to more primal forces.
Take that vision and rewind a bit and we end up where our heroes are making their way and their name.
Our heroes hail from various parts of the desert known as Adar; once a prosperous land ruled by the sorceress queen Imar. The prosperity, however, faded five hundred years ago during the dawn war. Adar, being the center of magic in this world, was the spot where the war between gods and primordial spirits spilled over.
During the dawn war a heinous act was perpetrated that would change the course of Adar drastically. The living gate, the barrier between the dark realm and the astral sea, was destroyed. Nobody knows for sure what or who was landed the faitful blow, but the result is undeniable. Creatures and powers never before known to this world crept in.
Mind flayers followed their escaped slaves, the Gith, to the astral sea and broutht with them the secrets of defiling magic. One especially powerful mind flayer sorcerer saw the plight of this realms gods and thought to overthrow them and become a god himself.
In order to defeat this new threat, the gods agreed to withraw their influence from the world and turn their power to doing the job of the living gate. The primordial spirits worked with the mortal races to trap and imprison the essence of this terrible mind flayer threat.
For Adar, though, the effort was too little too late. The secret of defilng was loose in the world. Power hungry wizards of Adar embraced the defiling ways and waged wars at the expense of the land. While Adar tore itself apart, the rest of the world saw to it that this madness would not spread. The hafling people, long residence of Adar’s northern crescent mountains, swore that none should escape to taint the rest of the world. The sea faring races blockaded the southern sea so that noone could enter or leave Adar; mostly a formality at this point as Adar no longer has the resources to sail the seas.
The defiler’s made sure that Adar was left as nothing more than scar tissue left where a war wound once lie. Their wars devastated the land scape, dried up inland seas, and tore apart the peoples of Adar. Now the people of Adar scrape by with what lives they can manage in a desert ruled by petty, jealous defiler kings that have settled into smoldering wars of politics and intrigue.
The only part of Adar which is reminiscent of the glory days is the lands surrounding the once capital of Ahdryatmin. When Imar saw the way of defling destroying what she loved, she sacrificed herself to turn these lands to the purest chaos of life. So strong and unpredictable is the life in this area that every defiler that has tried to harness it has died in the attempt and everyone nod-defiler that has attempted to enter these lands has gone mad.