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The World of Actura

In the beginning, there was...

And that is the problem. Because up until just over two thousand years ago, there was apparently no-one in the world to know the answer.

The history of the world of Actura began at precisely twenty-seven minutes and forty-three seconds past eleven o'clock in the morning, on the twelfth of September, in the year 0.

Unusually precise, certainly. But this is not simply the date at which the first sign of civilization appeared. This was the exact moment at which every sentient creature on the planet simultaneously and suddenly... woke up.

What came before? No one knows. There are no records of any earlier civilizations, no preserved tools or towns or even simply the remains of Sentients - the term officially used to describe the bipedal, intelligent inhabitants of this world, a definition that currently includes over five thousand individual species - which lived before that vital date, even though fossils of all sorts of wild animals have been found in abundance dating form before that time. Scientists across the globe has proved that the planet - Actura itself - is approximately 4.6 billion years old, that the earliest life forms appeared 3.5 billion years ago, that the universe itself could be as many as 14 billion years in age... but it seems that sentience itself is an paltry 2 millennia.

Why is this? What happened on that fateful day? There are a thousand theories and claims, a thousand beliefs, but all are classed under the same, deliberately vague name:

The Catalyst.

It wasn't just intelligence that was suddenly gifted to every Sentient, however. Suddenly, they had language - or rather, the inhabitants of each of Actura's five mainland continents somehow gained their own language: each one totally different and utilizing a unique letter system - they had a basic understanding of mathematics - all using a base ten counting system, for whatever unknown reason - they had knowledge of simple tools and of fire. Quite unexpectedly, on that September morning, the world, woke up and realised it's potential.

Almost immediately, it went mad.

These were the dark times known as the Hunger Wars. Culture and technology advanced at a steady rate, but civilizations went little beyond individual tribes of less than a few hundred in number. These tribes could be species-restricted or inter-species, they could have a strictly enforced hierarchy or be little more than a band of people who simply lived close to each other. They could be nomadic or stationary, they could be foragers or farmers or hunters- despite the fact that every Sentient's digestive system, regardless of species heritage, is perfectly capable of processing both meat and plant matter - they could be founded around a single, fanatical belief system - with the Catalyst so clearly seeming to show that something had created this world, religions were (and still are, to some extent) incredibly diverse - or support several faiths. But one thing was in common across the entire planet: war.

There were many causes for this. The most simple one was the instinct that still pervaded most predatory species' minds, despite their transition into Sentience: the hunting instinct, to stalk, to pounce, to kill... this even applied to many normally herbivorous creatures, who had swiftly discovered their ability to metabolise meat. The Hunger Wars is not a particularly sensitive way of phrasing the grim nature of those years of bloodshed and fear, but it serves as an eternal warning to the world: what will happen if we forget the value of life. The massacres and murder during those grim days is untold... and perhaps that is for the better.

There were other causes, of course: most notably, religious conflict. The Catalyst seemed like clear proof to all that some sort of god did exist. Therefore, reasoned the priests and druids and shamans of the world, it must be their god. (The problem was not so much the religions themselves -many survive to this day as peaceful and respected organisations, ashamed of their brutal pasts. It was simply their refusal to accept the validity of each other's faiths - a trait which has, thankfully, been forgotten in the modern world. Mostly.)

And so in this age of war and murder, Actura built its first civilizations. Few survived for longer than a few centuries, fewer still counted more than a hundred thousand among their citizens. But cultures grew, and when they fell, others cherry picked the best parts. War still raged, and cannibalism still preyed on the weak and poverty-stricken, but the world seemed to be surviving. These was known as the Days of War and Peace.

Then came the Last Day. The day when it all ended.

It was just under one and a half millenia since the Catalyst, and technology had progressed shakily to the point where gunpowder was used commonly across the globe. Most civilizations housed a standing army, and frequently used them too: but only in minor skirmishes and border disputes. Something of an uneasy, ragged peace had descended over the world, the collective population apparently content to sit back and lick the wounds they had inflicted on each other over the centuries. Perhaps this time would continue, perhaps the globe would settle into a shaky calm. But then everyone, everywhere, came under attack. From a force more powerful than any army. A force more powerful than any could imagine.

Actura itself.

In the year 1461, on the day known forever after as Mourner's day, the entire world - every continent, every island, every last inch of the planet itself - was rocked by an earthquake of utterly unimaginable power. Scientists estimate today that it released the energy equivalent to over two trillion nuclear bombs. The exact cause of this apocalyptic event is still unknown to this day: possibly it was an impact from a meteorite from the dark depths of space, perhaps some terrible stress deep in the planet's core... any records containing the answer have been lost in the aftermath. Cities were levelled, mountains brought crashing down, the sea itself rose in a roaring tsunami that claimed back millions of acres of land, volcanoes erupted explosively across the globe... civilization - and indeed, sentient life itself - teetered on the brink of total extinction. Almost two thirds of the world's population had been killed in one fell swoop, and the survivors were inevitably beginning to lapse into savagery: into a second Hunger War that would consume everything there was in its ravenous bloodshed. This was the Dark Time, when the future held nothing but death.

But from the dust of newly-slaughtered empires rose... Lord Theo.

A white-furred lion, barely in his twenties. Where he had come from is unknown. Why he decided to do what he did is a mystery that ranks alongside the Catalyst itself. But what is known is that Theo was a visionary: a orator and statesman beyond compare. Legend has it - and there are so many legends about the Founder by now that scholars have dedicated their entire lives to separating fact from myth - that he walked up the steps of the collapsed palace of the Mordecian Patrician's palace, beholding a city of rubble, and when the survivors that gathered there, he spoke. He spoke of a world where no one suffered, where no one went hungry, where people of all species could live side by side. He spoke of a government that would rule for the people, not over them. He spoke of a civilization - not an empire, a civilization - that spread across the entire planet, where all could work together, for a future that benefitted all.

At first, many were sceptical. The world had ended. Who was this fool claiming to build a new one? But some listened to the young lion who spoke with such passion. Some joined his cause.

They were enough to start with.

By the end of the year, Theo - by then Lord Theo - had established the centre of his government in the ruins of Mordecia. By the time two years had passed, he had begun to build a new city. Theo was an incredible skilled organiser and negotiator, and his results were undeniable, as was his apparent tenderness and compassion for those who joined him. Under his careful nurturing, the fledgling "Authority" was soon a prospering city state, unique amidst the ravaged and war-torn wasteland of the world.

Not for very much longer. Once the seat of his government was established to his approval, Lord Theo turned his eyes to the East, and the West, and the North, and the South. He had promised a globe-spanning society. He would make one.

Thus began what the lion grandly termed "the Crusade of Hope". Theo and his followers travelled across the continent, in every direction. And everywhere they found survivors - some tiny communities which had lost everything, some small cities which had suffered but survived - they helped them to start again. The lord cared nothing for species or class, for religion or beliefs. He simply did what was necessary to create his Authority. And those who he helped soon jine dhis cause.

(It was about this time that a young orphan - a timorous iguana, half-crippled - asked Lord Theo the question that has puzzled so many: why had he done this? Why had appeared before this world, and told it his dreams? It is said that the lion looked thoughtful for a moment, and simply said, "Because I was needed.")

But not all were willing. In the aftermath of the Last Day, many tyrants had grabbed power, ruling over terrified, tiny kingdoms where the populace lived in poverty. Where society seemed to have regressed to the Hunger Wars - in every respect. It is said that when Theo first learned of this in the city of Panaque, he flew into a rage, ordering that the Vizier be brought to him at swordpoint. But not in battle. Theo refused to bring his army to battle. Instead, he engineered and led an infiltrating mission into the fortress itself. The palace of the Vizier was captured within the hour, with not a single casualty on either side. But when brought before Theo, the Lord did not sentence him to death. Theo announced to his generals and subordinates that during the battle, his sword had been blunted. He swore that no Sentient, no matter how terrible, would ever die by the hand of his Authority.

Before long, the legend of the Founder - even then, he was given that title - had spread far and wide. Many came to join him. Many more came to negotiate a truce - most notably amongst their number the lamb, religious leader and self-proclaimed son of god: Jesus Emmanuel Christ, founder of the now hugely influential Church of Christianity - and after talking with the lion for a few hours, joined him as well. For Theo's vision was coming to fruition.

It took a long time, however. The story of the Crusade of Hope lasted nearly seven decades, a story with hundreds of chapters as the world, rocked to it's core, came to join the lion. The Authority was forged, in speeches and promises and co-operation - and to Theo's regret, sometimes in blood.

But it came to pass. A society where everyone could live freely - and it was. The Authority genuinely worked. By that time, Theo was an old, old man. He spent the rest of his days creating the work on which the budding Authority based its entire system: the 1,000 page long Degree of Sentient Rights - the most important document in the history of the world. Everything that the Authority should provide - for every citizen of its society - was included in those pages. And to this day, it has been followed to the letter.

Theo died not long after his degree was instigated, after his Authority had truly begun. His last words are the subject of another thousand theories about this mysterious and almost divinely guided man, this visionary and hero of ages:

"Is this... enough? Are they safe?"

None know what answer he heard... but it is said that Theo died with a faint smile upon his muzzle.

The world mourned his passing. But Theo's dream had come to pass at last. The Authority stretched across the entire globe, a vast bureaucracy that provided for every man, woman and child under its care. It had been a long and exhausting journey, and there was still far to go, but already the greatest civilization in the history of the world- the first civilization that was the world had been created. It has stood for seven hundred years of prosperity and peace.

The Present Day

Since then has been known simply as the Peacetime. Now that Sentients all around the planet could co-operate in peace, there began a period of unprecedented advance in all fields - science, culture, technology, the arts - and for the past four centuries, Actura has become more and more an essentially utopian society.

Today, thanks to the advent of computer technology, communication between continents is instantaneous and easy. Manned expeditions have been sent to both of Actura's two moons, Charna and Dormel, and there are plans for a permanent base to be set up in the next decade. Many of the world's deadliest diseases have been all but wiped out -Crimson Fever, Charna Influenza, even the genocidal Corsax Pox. Discrimination has declined to the point where an estimated 54% of all long-term relationships are inter-species, and approximately 17% are same-sex. The average citizen's quality of life has never been higher.

War, sadly, still erupts very occasionally. There are the Rebel Wars: when a particularly megalomaniacal, power-hungry State Chief Councillor - the elected ruler of one of the Authority's two hundred and sixty seven States, each the size of a medium country - breaks free form the laws and regulations of the High Council. Normally, the Authority attempts to negotiate the self-proclaimed "Supreme Leader" and his District back into the fold of the civilization. But all too often, the new government in one of these places goes on to create a law discriminating against individual species or religions, to repress it's innocent populace, to, in short, defy what is known as the first Commandment of Lord Theo's Degree of Sentient Rights: Every sentient creature has a right to live, and to live equally. Then, with a speed that belies it's apparent vastness, the Authority will declare it a Rebel State: where their objective is to force the wayward Council to adopt more ethical policies. By whatever means necessary.

The Authority controls the resources and manpower of the entire planet. Most dissidents become willing to listen quite soon.

The few that don't, however, tend to cling to power for quite a while - especially if they've been reinforcing their government and their infrastructure in preparation for the assault. This is when the skirmish becomes an official Rebel War.

The difficulty with such grim methods is that the Authority still attempts to uphold "Commandment One", as it is colloquially known. Every effort is made to minimise civilian casualties, and to capture rather than kill enemy soldiers. This inevitably limits the effectiveness that more ruthless tactics might give, meaning that of the seven Rebel Wars the Authority has so far suffered through in it's last century, five have lasted more than two decades.

For the most part, however, civilization is at peace, and people are happy. The ever-increasing rate of inter-species couples means that the birth rate is actually beginning to drop, leaving Actura's total population at a very manageable 953 million. This is easily small enough to be sustained by the planet's resources, and allows the Authority to operate an extremely good welfare program, providing healthcare, sickness benefits, excellent education that is entirely free up all the way up to Degree level, housing and benefits for the few who are unable to find a job and funding for all kinds of arts projects across the globe. The economy, based on the Acturan dollar (A$) is stable, and with the recent discovery of hydrofusion technology by pioneering scientist Dominic Kanras, is set to experience a major boom. Life is good.

But there is a darker side to this idyllic society. Something seems to be happening.

Curious cases like these have been prevalent throughout the Authority's entire history. Often, the culprit is rooted out - look at the insane Vanisher, or the brutal Swan Avenue Slicer, or the infamous and now-deceased Mr Knives. But the fact remains that people are starting to disappear. All species, all genders, all across the world, Sentients from all backgrounds are simply vanishing off the face of the planet.

These happenings have always been attributed to elopements, or deals with the Authoriy's sprawling and very cautious underworld going sour, or simple accidents. And indeed, some of them likely are. But now the cases are on the rise - still a tiny, tiny minority, but enough to convince the Authority that something is happening. They have attempted to keep the statistics from the public, fearing a panic, and are quietly funding the development of various task forces and research groups dedicated to uncovering the conspiracy. So far: nothing. The abductors - and by estimates, there could be a few dozen or several hundred of them, ranged across the globe - are very, very good at covering their tracks.

Either that, or elements within the bureaucracy itself are covering them. The High Council - the very top of the Authority's hierarchy - have curiously censored several of its incident files completely. The mysterious Installation, and the fact that death-sentenced serial murderer Finnley Sharpe has been reportedly sighted at several points across the globe. The claims and blurry photographs of fantastical creatures, roaming the continental wilderness. The remarkable similarity in many of the legends of pre-Authoritorian and post-Authoritorian theologies , describing mythical beasts and heroes and villains that share all but the same name. Strange things are happening.

Actura lives on, each new dawn promising a world of excitement and hope. But now the night is coming.