High up in the Tower a meeting takes place. All the important priests are present, the general and his advisers are also taking part. On his throne sits the Prophet, listening how his subjects congregate. Silas, a guard, stands left to the entrance of the conference room. It’s his first time he has been allowed to join the attendees inside, after ten years of loyal service. On the right side of the high solid oak doors is Brundt, a college who guards the conference room for a while now. The doors are so wide that Silas and Brundt would not be able to touch each other when they would point their spears at each other, the space between the tips being barely a space.

The meeting has been going for an hour when a light vibration in the air mutes all the voices. Silas sees that everyone is looking straight ahead. He doesn’t understand why they all just stopped talking. Suddenly the room is brightly lit and a loud reverberation bangs like a boot made of smooth metal hitting a marble floor. From the light that keeps floating in the air like a portal steps a large, armoured figure. The giant is roughly twice of Silas’ size and every inch of his enormous body is covered by strong metal in golden and white colours. His pounding footsteps are followed by an empty silence. Everyone except for the prophet is mumbling prayers while their hands are joint.

With a calm pace the giant moves towards the Prophet, who is looking at him, serene and unruffled. Each step fills the room with a freezing sound. The Prophet greets him, upon which the appearance makes an unusual gesture with his long fingers. The helmet of the stupendous armour moves almost unobserved when he starts speaking with a deep ineluctable voice. Silas, who doesn’t master any form of magic or followed any strange study, is not able to understand any of the words that fill the room. The Prophet however didn’t seem to have any difficulty answering the apparent questions of the giant.
Confused and afraid, Silas tries to whisper his colleague to find out what is going on, but he regrets that decision in an instant. The Prophet looks disturbed towards Silas and the mysterious creature slowly turns his helmeted head towards the anxious guard. When the giant looks at him he feels like he is staring into a deep ravine. Behind the gunsight of the helmet he can only see darkness and while it’s making him even more anxious, a clashing feeling of trust and loyalty overcomes him. It’s an ancient being that possesses powers even the mightiest magicians can’t withstand.

After a long, bleak yet empowering silence the ancient deflects from Silas and continues his dialogue with the Prophet as if nothing happened. It’s not long until the conversation comes to an end, upon which the giant takes a step back. The same portal of light is called in existence and he dissolves in thin air. Silas is relieved, because even though he felt the wisdom the giant seemed to radiate, his eyes emitted emptiness. It was better the creature was no longer with them.

The being that appeared in the conference room of the Arcane Order, is a direct descendant of the Gods and has been existing on Alva since her birth. We call them the Moduli. These were created – when the Gods went down to Alva after they finished composing her – in their image. The Moduli were less powerful than the Gods themselves, but nonetheless were they gifted in manipulation synths and had no limits in what they could create. The Gods left Alva and donated the world to the Moduli as an empire to live on, symbiont with the nature.
During thousand years the Moduli explored every corner of Alva. They’ve built a mighty city, Altmodus, high up in the mountains. To honor their creators, they constructed palaces and temples of faith, while engraving all their collective knowledge on the walls of these sacred structures, in effect mapping the entire world. Prosperity came to an unexpected end.
No one knows why, but one day the might of the Moduli started to decline. Over the next few years, their gifts diminished until after a hundred year, their power to create was completely obliterated. A few great qualities remained, but magical strengths kept decreasing. Despair made the Moduli glance to the skies, made them pray to the God for forgiveness, without knowing the act that called upon this damnation. An answer never came.

Broken and knocked down the Moduli returned to Altmodus, the only home they had left in their once so beautiful world. A place now even for them not without dangers…