Welcome to Swordsfall. An Afropunk Sci-Fantasy world of wonder, excitement, danger and more.
An Afropunk Sci-Fantasy Setting
Swordsfall isn't just a setting for a game, it's a world. It's a dive into pre-colonial Africa for rich lore you've never heard of before. It's an exploration into a world where most of the faces are dark yet aren’t constrained to one corner of the globe. It's a world where women hold power equal to men and the merit of one’s soul is what propels them through life. It's a world where spirits aren't to be feared, instead, they are to be embraced. In a time where we know that representation matters, this project is an effort to add to that spirit in the way I know best. Narrative fiction in the nerdiest of flavors.
The world of Tikor and all its inhabitants are a reflection of that journey. It’s one in which I expect many will find facets they never expected. Others may find things they had only dreamed of seeing in a published tabletop game. The rest will most likely just be here for a fun game to play. Whichever way leads you to Swordsfall, I welcome you. I hope that no matter your color, creed, gender, or background, you find a home within these pages.
Most importantly though, I hope you have fun with your friends around the table or internet as you dive into a taste of Afropunk Sci-Fantasy.
A World In Change
Tikor is a world where deities and spirits are as real as the nature that surrounds them. Since the earliest writings of mankind, the gods have been there with them. They are a vital part of the makeup of human societies across the globe. This is in a way to be expected. Humans were in fact, created by the gods themselves. Various grand deities created cultures of their own design and ethos. As time marched forward, these various cultures and groups managed to peacefully co-exist. Sometimes contentiously, sometimes harmoniously, but always striving to co-exist with each other.
History, however, would change over the course of a tragic day and its horrific night. Mime, the Garuda deity of Wisdom, is assassinated at the hands of an alleged Vinyatian assassin. Mortal hands had never slain a deity. As tensions between the rival nations of Garuda and Vinyata soared under that long Tikor night, a bloody battle erupted between the two sides. A truce was eventually called once the truth was revealed, but not before irreversible damage to both sides was done.
Despite the armistice between the bitter enemies, the wounds of that day still linger. And the world heaves as the one constant, the gods themselves, waver and a new struggle begins.