In the time before time, the First War ended the peace of the peoples of the Earth.

Driven and desperate, survivors bred for power and magic, and they succeeded—with a legacy too great for their mortal forms and a shattered home.

Unsure of uncertain future and unpredictable might, as one they turned to Naktam, the Lord of Night Whispers for advice—for he was oldest, strangest, and the most resilient. He who knew Death by name and embodied the hunger of all worlds advised them to define themselves by soul’s desire and blood’s prime power, and so become families. 

Thus, all fell like seeds into seven Peoples. They hoped to prevent further conflict. That did not work. 

The Peoples, however, retained the silos of safety and community, even if the Ever-Dying had no magic, and the Kin were of no account. And so each came to choose their names, to define their passions of blood and spirit, and choose the runes which named them clear. In time, simpler symbols were added for the sake of children and the lesser educated. 

Today, the Seven Peoples remain strong, and few there are who fight this many-reined yoke.