12 tribes of settled Stem Rams lived on the edge of the Fungal Plain. Stem Island's harsh environment beat them down every hour. The tribes fought for territory, resources, and love. Peace was absent from their lives.
Every month, the demonic bell of the 13th tribe would ring from the center of Stem Island. It would signal the golden warriors to pillage the lesser rams. All the tribes were ruthlessly invaded by murderers.
For centuries, the villages barely survived. It was as if they were livestock harvested by invaders.
Misfortune greeted them. As a titan made of slime tore through them one-by-one, it seemed as if their time was over.
An exiled trickster pleaded for his life at one of the tribal settlements. He promised he would kill the beast, if they accepted him again. The clever man, with a small legion of skeptical warriors by his side, did it. Right as they were about to feast upon the fallen giant's body... The fanatic killers rang their bell and stole it from them. The trickster was furious.
He formed a plan to get rid of the 13th settlement once and for all. It took a long time for the tribes to settle their differences and agree with his plan.
One fateful day, the men, the women, and the children of the tribes did the unexpected: They heeded the call of the hellish bell. A bloody battle was endured, but the combined might of the 12 tribes won. They tore down the beliefs of the wicked and claimed their invader's land as a peaceful land.
The 12 tribal chiefs elected the trickster to lead this new land. The once bloody soil under his rule prospered within weeks. It became a place of combined tribal peace.
Of course, there were still issues between the groups after the war. The trickster man couldn't stand that.
A system was put in place. People from the tribes elected a figurehead who stood on a council around the man. They were to choose the outcome that would benefit all of them.
The Council of 12 was formed.
The trickster came to pass. To honor his soul's uniqueness, they chose not to replace his role.
As the years passed, the tribes' homelands were cursed to erupt in an inferno by the hands of a mysterious force. The Council of 12's land became a safe haven for the original settlements' refugees.
When all the villages of the plain's past fell, the force appeared to burn down the center home. From the darkness, the religious zealots of Stems rose and eradicated the threat before vanishing once more.
It wasn't long before the great mushroom's stems sprouted portals and ushered in the aliens. They were benevolent, peaceful people who warned of greater threats.
The Council of 12's land soon became home to not only the rams but foreign sentience as well. With the help of the growing population of aliens, the culture underneath the council blossomed into something far grander than any of the natives could've predicted. Economy was born, strange religions and media were introduced, and connections to the outer world presented inventions better than their wildest dreams.
After decades, the council was not just composed of native blood. Many aliens stood upon it, looking out for their parties within the area now referred to as Stem City.
A poison of unknown origin spread throughout their society's underbelly. The native blood grew restless as faux-aliens attacked them. Hate spiraled far out of the peaceful 12's control.
They watched as a sole spiteful actor had hateful natives rally behind him. Their tower was stormed. Their gifted automaton turned on them. They were violently blinded and brought into the darkness of an ancient church. In XX450, the council fell, and the Era of Ahsonov began.
The divine greeted the fake rulers with twisted cruelty.