The Underground Farm

Once upon a time.

In a world without a sky.

Where light itself is a rarity.

Where slithering horrors rules the depth, and the dead roams the tunnels.

Where nations and countries, can easily crumble because of a single rockfall.

Where concepts takes on a physical form to play god.

A hopeless place where it's kill or be killed.

And yet...

Even in this place. The pest that is humanity still thrives inside this abyss.

With their so called determination and hope, Like the livings in this colossal chasm, they try to survive.

They thrive.

They build villages, cities, and nations.

They produce food, drinks, weapons, and soon...

Armies.

They war with each other trying to get more.

Until eventually...

A human...

The human's hero.

Blessed by a false God with a power enough to rival The Deep Ones.

Soon, powered with the belief of a false god, the humans march on to tame this land.

The land however, fought back.

Thousand upon thousands of worthless human's lives are gone during their first crusade.

For it is impossible for hands and feets made out of soft skin to clash against molten rocks and scaled skins.

However, the humans learned.

Under the leadership of the hero, the humans created great machines.

Born of metals.

Fortress and spires of hard metal and jagged spikes.

Elaborate iron contraptions ready to vomit deadly projectiles.

Millions of adamantite edged blade laced with withering poison.

And of course... Magic.

Magicians , humans with the potential of using the ever elusive magic.

Before the crusade, the magicians are mere performers who can only perform mere party tricks.

However, with the accursed hero's action, the magicians are now humanity's strongest force.

What used to be pulling a lizard out of their hats soon turned into pulling an obedient draconic creatures from a portal to another land.

What used to be conjuring a flicker of fire are now turned into conjuring pillars of blazing flames.

What used to be a mere trick to hide an object can now transports fortresses across the battlefield.

All the while priests of the false God replaces the embrace of the deep with their lord revolting radiance.

They fail.

Still, the failed crusade fails to bring the humans into the depth of despair.

With the denizens of underground, being unable to assault them due to the protection of the false God...they are protected.

One after another. The humans attempted it again and again.

The Third Crusade. Failure.

The Fourth Crusade. Failure.

The Fifth Crusade. Failure.

With the vermin's numerous numbers and their stubbornness to admit defeat.

They keep on pushing.

With each defeat they lose less from their never ending ranks.With each crusade, there are more of them, spawned and trained against the deep.

They attempted their crusades again and again. Each time different than the last.

Through it all, the hero still lives, forever embraced by the false ones, there is no hope, that they will ever relinquish their grip over him.

Until eventually, we arrive at what time bound mortals calls the present.

The Eighty-third Crusade.