Dragons of Sorrow Campaign The Cataclysm & The War of the Lance The current year for our Dragonlance campaign is set during 351 AC "After Cataclysm". Inspired By Trampas Whiteman

Listen to the wind. It’s the same dry, hollow sound that’s been whistling through the ruined lands of Ansalon for over 300 years. The gods—the true gods—answered a mad priest’s arrogance by dropping a mountain on him, and they've been silent ever since. Gone, Abandoned, Forgotten.

That’s the world you live in now. It’s a world where healers can't truly heal. It’s a world where the sacred is just rubble. It’s a world where the old faiths are mocked by charlatans promising prosperity from false gods called the Seekers. The old knights, those who still cling to their vows, are seen as relics, failures who couldn't protect anyone from the great Cataclysm.

Look around you. Settlements like Solace, once a hub of trade and merriment, but now it’s just a stopover. The great city-states are gone, and in their place, you have isolated, suspicious towns and villages. The elves have retreated into their forests, the dwarves into their mountains, and everyone else is just . . . trying to get by.

For generations, fear has been the natural state of things. Since the Cataclysm, the world has been a place of quiet, lingering dread. You've all felt it—the cold wind that whips through the ruins of an old empire, the way the world seems to have shrunk, pulling in on itself. But lately, there's a new, more specific chill in the air, a different kind of rumor circulating.

For 300 years, the darkness has been formless—famine, disease, bandits, the slow decay of society. Now, you’re hearing stories that suggest a malevolent order is replacing the chaos. People speak of disciplined armies, not just rabble. They mention armor that glints like dragon scales, and banners you’ve never seen, bearing the symbol of the five-headed dragon. It's not rumors of a fight over scraps anymore; these rumors call it a focused, deliberate invasion.

You've all noticed it, a new stillness in the world. The usual rhythm of life has been subtly, but fundamentally, altered. The air, which once felt clear, now feels thick with unspoken worry. It’s the kind of quiet that follows a loud argument, where everyone is afraid to speak.

The old stone mason, a man who has whistled while he worked for thirty years, is silent, his rhythmic chipping of the hammer replaced by a nervous, quiet tapping. The tavern, once a bastion of boisterous songs and friendly arguments, now has patrons drinking in hushed, low tones, their eyes darting toward the door with every new arrival. Everyone is buying or selling in a panic.

People aren't just buying—they are hoarding. Long lines form at the bakeries and mills, with whispers of price hikes and potential food shortages on everyone's lips. Merchants who used to haggle with a smile are now secretive and shrewd, some of them hiding their best stock entirely.

On the other hand, a new class of opportunists has emerged, peddling shoddy, overpriced goods to the desperate. The stories from the east are all eerily similar, no matter where they come from. A refugee arriving by boat from Nordmaar speaks of a city that was swallowed by the sea and of strange, reptilian humanoids marching in formation. A merchant from Khur, his caravan attacked, tells of soldiers who can breathe fire and a commander who rides a shadow.

The rumors from the East are no longer just travelers' tall tales; they are the subject of tavern chatter and hushed conversations. These whispers tell of a storm on the horizon.

Other accounts are more fantastical, speaking of powerful war-wizards and massive, mechanical siege weapons. Every traveler, from the lowliest peddler to the most high-minded diplomat, seems to bring a new version of the same story.

Some say a massive army has been gathering, bigger and more disciplined than any seen in centuries. The message is clear: things are changing, and not for the better. The peace that everyone has taken for granted is fracturing, and some say the war is already here, a quiet tension waiting for the first drop of blood.

You've heard the rumors of great armies in the east, but they're just that, rumors. So you gather your courage, your strength, and your friends, because that’s all you have left.