500 years ago, all of Anderre was a battleground, the gods of destruction versus that of creation; The Dragon, The Smoke, The Scourge, and The Blood versus The Sun, The Blind, The Green, and The Wings, the old versus the new, and the very world was threatened with annihilation with the fighting. Mortals cowered on the north-east coast whilst the battle took up the entirety of the center, western, and southern regions. The very fabric of space was beginning to rip off the eastern coast and at this tear, the two sides vowed to stop fighting with conditions for both sides.
The four gods of old took Grahlt (the land to the south) and closed it off with great magic (think Cataclysm from WOW), and they ruled as they saw fit. This is very murderous and horrible, there are lots of horrible creatures and war and suffering and none can escape (Think Bill’s version of Gravity Falls).
The four new gods, in exchange for peace in their lands, were forced to swear never to speak of their great power to their followers, and leave the lands to the far south alone. As such, they could no longer empower their priests, bring strength to their champions and the worship died away. Mortal creatures thought the gods had given up on the world, and so gave up on the gods and moved on as the four who saved the world all retreated into obscurity. The Green stayed in the forest to the south-east and south-west, making sure the borders stay unbreached. The Wings retreated to the far north, drawn by the innovations of the dwarves and men as they discovered the rift and its properties but forced to keep silent. The Blind hid deep underground in the Andri plains, prophetic visions showing that removal of the gods from the world the best course of action. The Sun roamed and, 100 years later, crossed down into Grahlt and was never heard from again.