This entire project began in the most unassuming way imaginable: just me and a friend sitting across from each other at a kitchen table. We had no complete dice sets, no miniatures, no maps, and certainly no grand plan—only a shared desire to build a world we could lose ourselves in. A world that felt alive. That day, Tul-Mas was born—entirely by accident.

That accidental spark quickly became an obsession. I spent years fleshing it out, piece by piece: sketching maps late into the night, filling notebooks with creatures and cultures, drafting quests that tested heart as much as strength. The characters, too, began to walk beside us like old friends. Tul-Mas wasn’t just a world anymore—it was our world, forged in imagination and kept alive by devotion.

Even now, another long-term player and friend and I continue to breathe life into it, adding depth, beauty, darkness, and wonder at every turn. And now, we’re ready to open the door for others.

With Omnistratum, we begin a new chapter. This installment follows Dia Baenelin, a character who has lived quietly in my mind for years, waiting for her time. She is the daughter of Ser Knight Alagun Baenelin, a revered figure at The Vahl, a fortress perched atop the highest peak in the southern continent of Lorea—a sanctuary where clerics, paladins, orphans, and widows alike gather under the open sky to worship freely.

Dia’s story begins with a rite of passage: a pilgrimage. Her path takes her down from The Seat of the Heavens and into the world she is meant to serve. She doesn’t know what her purpose is—but she’s been told, when the time comes, she will know.

And yet, something stirs beneath the surface. A voice, laced into her dreams, speaks in riddles. It is hauntingly familiar.

What is this voice? And what is its role in Dia’s destiny?

That’s a story I can’t wait to share with you