The Slow Creep of Night

There is a world, tidally locked to its sun. One side faces the sun; it is warm, lush. The other side is
permanently dark. Tidally locked except—not quite. Some procession of the world's core imparts a tiny rotation. It
does have a day, but it's two thousand years long.
Each year, roughly 20 leagues of 'Dawnlands' are touched by the rays of the sun. Behind them, 20 leagues
are claimed by twilight. Because of this, every living thing slowly migrates. Moving east is an instinct in the soul of
every rodent, bird, and people. The giant trees, lichens, and the seething legion of insects beneath the soil stay where
they are, but everything else gradually resettles. It has gone on like this for eons. The early people were nomadic by
necessity, following the dawn. Tribes would sometimes flourish and expand, taking over swaths of territory and
building permanent settlements. These early kingdoms were initially successful but nothing is ever permanent. They
would develop writings, fine art and architecture. Sometimes this would end in disaster, torn apart by civil war and
chaos as twilight upended their civilizations. Other times they simply vanished, either excepting their fates and
moving on or sailing stubbornly into the night to be devoured by the things of the dark.

Adventures in the World of Creeping Dark

1. The east is a frenzy of exploration and settlement. Lush new lands are opening up, and the Dawnland kingdoms are
competing for control of the islands, new trade routes, and a defensible positions for fortresses. There is good money
for adventurers & mercenaries.
2. For the truly desperate, ranging far into the pre-dawn nightlands offers the possibility of a precious discovery that
could be sold as information, or perhaps even claimed and fortified.
3. Some of these footholds in the pre-dawn night take hold, but to stay viable they must be supplied with news, food,
medicines, and specialists.
4. Fighting the vestiges of night. Day comes last to the the valleys, crevices and ravines of the dawnlands. For decades
they are inky pools of shadow, and the terrors of the night-side lurk there. Before the lands can be safely settled, these
must be made safe.
5. Some of these cannot be dislodged, but must be bargained with, placated, sated or killed.
6. In the far west, the inevitable abandonment of settlements happens unevenly. The day-dwellers rarely give up
before they have to, as there are resources that are hard to give up. Mines, fertile lagoons, a final harvest or two of the
century crops—all would bring much-needed cash and supplies for the great migration eastwards. But sometimes the
dark surges forward - waves of monsters, or lone horrors come to soon. These must be fought off, chased back into the
night, or at kept at bay while people evacuate.
7. Forays into night. Some things simply cannot be moved. The great fortress of Ing, where the life-giving fountain
splashes. It may be a hundred miles into the Darklands, but it is the only known cure for the Duke's white palsy.
8. Though they don't like to speak of it, sages have figured out that the Daylands are getting narrower. (Court
administrators have noticed this too, for that matter.) According to legend, it was once half the world, as you might
expect if the world was a sphere. Now, geographers agree: it's a narrow strip, scarcely 800 leagues across. If this
waning continues, the people of the day might soon be completely eclipsed in less than a millennia
Soothsayers from nine kingdoms all claim the same vision—there is a sorcererous cabal in the Darklands, the princes
of night. Their great work is shrinking the day. They must be stopped, if they can be reached at all.
9. The Duke even believes that they have agents on the day-side, moving among us, but this is obviously just the
ravings of a man stricken with the white palsy.

10. So the question is, where do you fit in all this?

Welcome To the World of the Creeping Dark...