Orbiting a dying sun near the galactic eye is a world long forgotten to the earliest settlers of space. The stars glow faintly until midday, chanting the impending doom of the blue deserts and dust blown salt flats below. The inhabitants are obliquely aware of their galactic lineage--they are the root world to all others. They are the forgotten children of the precursors...the ancients.
Millions of years long past, an endless procession of humanoids (some barbaric, some civilized) crawled across the land, scarred it with war, fought to recover, and then finally left it to erode for all time. Now only a single race of humans remains to eke out a living amongst the ruins. They know little about the true nature of the others that have come before them or the cataclysms that winked them into oblivion.
Most of the remaining inhabitants are nomadic tribes scavenging the wastes and digging into the barren soil hoping to find something to eat, something useful, or something "magical" left behind by a precursor they can sell or trade--or if it comes to it--something they can use for protection against the things-that-go-bump in the endless twilight.
This is Benu.
