There will be faction specific lore threads, but whilst waiting for them to be worth creating, we'll preview factions histories and other texts here...moving them onto newe threads as and when.
PLEASE use this thread if you want to know specific small things about the world or factions...even if you think they're tiny.
Will be updating tomorrow onwards. Again, i see little point in withholding most of the lore unless it does touch upon areas we don't want to reveal until release...of which there WILL be quite a few.
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I'll add the Empire's Lore in total so far first. Then will regularly begin to shift stuff across. I'm sorry it's slower than I would like.
IMPERIAL KADASANDRA AND VALERIAN
IMPERIAL KADASANDRA
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Kadasandra was the heart of the EMpire. It is the isle that stands between the two continents (and a massively important strategic point), but, more importantly, it is where Valerian found the Dragons. Here was where the Emperor flew his SPurhawk up the slopes of the Dream mountain, spiralling higher and higher, growing colder and breathing less easily, he saw his death and shrugged it from his mind, until he burst through the cloud-tops and found the volcanic bowl where the True Dragons slept.
There is no record of HOW he awoke them, nor does it say why they did not simply devour him, but all records agree that they spoke to each oither, and he spent a month amongst them, leaving their side to call them friends. They served him in the conquest of the west, allowed him to ride their backs, and sending blasts of Dragonfire to blacken high walls and terrify his foes. What is now The Imperial Heartlands fell to him and his Dragons, but they would not travel further from their nest, nor would destroy entire armies, which were certainly within their power.
Valarian did not need their might for the rest of his conquest, and he finally retreated to Kadasandra, where he regularly flew with them and talked of many things. Their sense of good and just action was said to be exemplary.
From Kadasandra the EMpire built their massive fleet, stationing it at the Isle of Fleet, to the south, and the fortresses of Eastwatch and westwatch were build from stone raide by the dragons. All in all, Kadasandra itself is one 'province' yet is easily the most powerful territory there is. Here are based the Guard Legions, recruits from all provinces are based at the Imperial City's barracks, and the realm is preserved and ruled from thei focal point. Should Kadasandra fall, the heart of the EMpire would wither.
AT the time of the Ghaurchlai Wars, valerian had become tired, sleeping badly, not resting, depressed and uninterested in rule. It is said that he went to the Dragopns and found them sleeping or gone, with no way of waking them. His fire of life was extinguished in one fell swoop. In the capital, the Courts were rife with treason, corruption and the the death of many advisors, to be replaced by Ghaurchlai Shapestealers.
WHen Valerian was torn from his dire thoughts by Inledlis, the Void Knight COmpassionate, he rallied the Imperial East and marched to Saden Fields, where the cataclysmic battle for the planet began. Valerian was wounded direly, and the Dragons stirred, then awoke and came in fury upon the Ghaurchlai battle lines. As the EMperor lay wounded, a Dragon came and bore him to their nest, whilst the otherDragons tore into the Ghaurchlai Host. Each being a mile long, they smashed and burn ed entire battalions of the foe, and are said to have destroyed the host from the rear, even as the forces of the east and west hurled themselves aginst the Ghaur battlelines.
Many of the greatest Ghaurchlai perished that day, but dragons too were killed and wounded, but the Ghaur that remained were bound by the Ildiri bending rivers and fl;ooding the enemy host with a wahs of fresh water. Fresh or running water sends Ghaur into a torpor, and the result is best taken from the Ildiri historians.
VALERIAN AND THE BEGINNINGS OF EMPIRE
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Valerian was once known as Ulaya, a War Chieftain of the Atlaia, one of the foremost of the clans in the Sea of Grass. His Father Ultur had forged a tribe, a rare opccurance, uniting 32 Clans under his banner. A great man indeed, but as nothing compared to his son, Ulaya...the man who would become Valerian, Emperor of the Dragonthrone, the most powerful man in the worlde, the only 'Dragonfriend'. With the tribe ATlaia, Valerian set out to forge this power.
The clans of the Sea of Grass were unusual. They had no concept of CONQUEST. It had never occured to them to want to dominate another culturer, as they fought amongst themselves endlessly. However, there were clans who had suffered from the depredations of Telmior, a princedom bordering the Sea of Grass, to the west. They operated under a slave culture, and the clans were a prime target. Strong, lean, practised warriors, they commanded a high prince in Ancillia, to the north.
Ultur has forged bonds with the elusive clans of the West, and he sent Ulaya and Alatai, his other son to negotiate. His tribe may have been great, but the western clans were the best tamers of the great Spurhawks that inhabited the stunted mountains of the Sea. Ultur and Ulaya both saw the possibilities that a larger force of these war birds would engender. ALatai was sent to the West CLans summer trails, and began negotiations with a clan that tamed the birds, the Paeirtun. Ulaya went deeper into the scared lands about the mountains, and was found in an entirely different situation.
In these deeper places, he was said to have been ambushed. His SPurhawk was slain and his body wounded, and he was captured. The Palioaer were the only breeders of the rare Black Hawks, and intended to feed him to their birds or ransom him. In the month that followed, he began to make negotiations into their becoming a part of his Father's tribe. AT first, the captors laughed at him, and beat him, but, later, thenh began to listen. It was here where Ulaya made his name. One night, the clan was attacked in full force by the twin clans of Abiidi and Narutar, intent on taking their Black Hawks and selling the clan to the Telmior.
During a frantic battle, the Palioaer cut Ulaya's bonds, and he cut down many foes. He set the clan's war banner by his feet, and defended it against all who came for it. It is said he slew over thirty foes. The warriors rallied to him, and he led a ragged defence. It is said that he won that battle by sheer force of will. They spent a day burying the dead, or burning them, and he led a counter strike on the clans. In a swift battle, he mnanaged to have half of his force on Spurhawks, shooting bows again and agian into the panicked foe. Ulaya then led a cavalry charge into the combined camps. Everywhere the foe fell in droves, until they surrendered to his, admiring his prowess.
He was held for another month, but as honoured guest. Upon his return to his Father, he led 3 clan chieftaions who would join the Tribe, and the only clan that could breed and tame Black SPurhawks. His brother came back with assurances of aid, but at the cost of war with Telmior.
Ultur and his sons had bound the north, with their fair caravans, the Eastern Clans with their vast herds, the West with it's fierce Hawks, and the south with it's greater numbers.
To Ulaya came one of the Old Ones. It was a great risk, for his father had them slain on sight, seeing them as degenerates. This man, nameless to the end, explained the many aspects of the Old Ones' lives. They wished to treat with him, as their visions showed the death of his father being close by. They had abilities beyond the norm, and would treat with him for the protection of their ways and their future. Ulaya went further. He spent two weeks with this man, then went to their sacred groves to the south and learned much from them. They would send seers with him when he returned, for his father would be dead. Dead at the hand of Ulaya's brother.
With his seers, Ulaya moved north at speed. Their passage was eased by the magics of the Old Ones. He swept into the southern camps, to find that the entire tribe was in disarray. Some had joined his brother, most were unsure, but there were those that flockled to Ulaya. With the Hawk CLans behind him, he droive north once again, gathering horse clans and Saer Riders to him. His Brother met him one mile south of the Tribe encampment. There was a battle, but it was never in doubt. Ulaya had a rare grasp of tactics, and completely crushed the clans that had followed him
The survivors of the 'rebel' Clans were given the choice of a Clan or death. Many took the former, and joined an existing Clan that they had marriage bonds in. Some few choseto die. His brother was flayed asnd torn apart by horses. The ones who chose death were made into a bodyguard for Ulaya - the Honoured Dead. From that point, they were his forever.
There was a month of feasts, of tears for the dead and many of the ancient rites that the Old Ones observed.
Ulaya had to turn this force to some end. Telmior was a foe of old. It had been using mercenaries to slave into the Western Clans. Those that were not already His came to him, asking for forgiveness that they had delayed their fealty, brining signs of war, supported by some few of Clans already Ulaya's. The tales were worse than ever before. The Telmior were simply observing the lack of warriors in the west, not seeing fyrther than their notion that the Clans would never work together. They would find that this was a dire mistake. With the bodies of mutilated dead, tales of mercenaries coimmitting worse atrocities, Ulaya's moment was made, his decision as bright as the mid-day sun.
Ulaya moved north at speed, with horse and Hawk, and there followed the train in his wake. He commanded 16,000 SPurhawk Cavalry, 8000 Horse and 22,000 warriors. The mercenaries were not prepared for this. They were strung out, killing, slaving, intent on rapine, and he struck them at every point, given the places by his Seers. The orders were to capture, not kill. 3,200 mercenaries were captured, leaving just under a thousand dead. In one long day, they had killed or captured every Telmioran mercenary.
The response to this was saids to be savage. Whether he later regretted it will never be surely known, but he hacked them to pieces. They were strung up, lost limbs, maimed ina thousand ways, then sent to Telmior's capital, Telimir, itself, with one sighted man leading nine blind on a chain. The way was torturous, but they were fed and watered, to ensure the greater part made it to their destination. Abandoned about a mile from Telimir's walls, they marchedto the city, a testament to the brutality of the ALtaia.
Ulaya was no fool. He had just added thousands of useless bodies to a city that would find itself under attack within days of the train of cripples entering it's great gates.
EASTERN EMPIRE
EASTERN EMPIRE
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The Imperial East, or the Ward of The Eastern Empire, is a land constantly threatened, constantly at war, never anything but a shifting mass that ebbs and flows, a roiling battleground in the wars between the 'non-subjugate powers' and the Empire - they face the might of Ashapur and the Federation as constant and consistent enemies, raided by the wolfborn revers, and the coats scourged by the slaver-pirates of Hanghaven. The Bandit Kings are a thorn in the Empire's side, mostly due to the rich mineral deposits that their destitute 'lords' have raised their parodies of cities upon.
In the East, east of Duinir, lay the Naugiri, a predatcious and hellish foe that moved their continent to crash into the Empire in order to scourge the lands clean of 'parasites'; meaning all humans. Duinir and it's Wardens bear the brunt of this, aided by many legions of troops, drawn up from the army that was to regain the Sun King, or 'Rebels'' lands, preventing a terrible war in the south, replacing it with a more terrifying war in the north east. Deadly,vicious, a war is fought under the eaves of Duinir, but occasionally spills out into the Sea of Grass and into Dalthrasia; one of the militarily strongest of the Eastern Provinces, with it's elite Pike units, often held back as reserves, to gauge which conflict needs them the most.
The Rebellion freed the Rebel-lands (The Lands of the Sun King) from Imperial rule, and the coming of the Naugiri ended all thoughts of a reconquering of them. In the south, the Federation gather, but are rebuked by the men of Atakash and Saladir. The men of Losson Province aid the Myr Addat in their war, and the fleet of the east tackles the Wolf Born and Hanghaven as much they can. The Bloodless Ones, or Cimrai, hold the tall mountains south of the Naugiri, and are constantly engaging in skirmishes with them - they have become less of a plague since the Orcs came.
In short, the Eastern Empire is a liquid nation, shrinking and expanding, yet ever hanging on with bitter nails, their legions and massive wealth repulsing attack after attack. Make no mistake, the Eastern Empire is where it's wealth comes from, but the West is ever a military power, and the breadbasket of the whole Empire. It is not unusual for Western Provinces to commit troops to the East, but it usually come with an almost mercenary cost. Teetering valiantly, the East stands at a crossroads, one that will see it's preeminence or it's doom.
THE PROVINCE OF ATAKASH
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The People of Atakash are bound by a wrrior-code. They are honourable, motivated and highly organised. They are also most certainly not fools.
There is a relgious sentiment in their society. It is held that they were visited many times by angels. It was these angels that gave the nobility their rule, and their blood is said to run in the veins of the Atakash Noble Families. There is a rite that is held as truth, laid down in history at the dawn of man. It tells of dealings with angelic figures, who taught them many things, but, mor importantly, shared their blood with the greatest amongst the Atakash, as it imparted wisdom through shared memories. One hundred and twelve men formed the first tribe of the Atakash, and they are even now the 112 noble families of the Province; the AUtocracy of Atakash.
There are no singular titular heads of Atakash. The 112 families rule together, but all disputes are taken to a 'lowborn man', making there a hundred and thirteen members of the Autocratic Council. The last man, the lowborn, is given greater powers, and is the arbiter in any decision. He can veto edicts, given the support of a third of the Houses, but has a limit before he must resign. It's lands are divided into 113 'provinces', each under the lordship of a noble family, save the last, the City of Arakamesh, which is home to the ruling council, and the 'lowborn man'.
The land was never numerously populated, but the sheer ferocity of it's warriors allowed them to remain autonomous until the coming of Ulaya, the man who would become Valerian, first Emperor of the Dragonthrone.
Their culture was never stagnant, but, like the Atlaia under Valerian, they had no dreams of conquest. Trade was left to the lower born, and each person occupied a vital role in the community, from the weaver to the Akurai, or commander of the Guard - a general for want of a better word. There was no colopnial dream; warriors fought for dreams and ritual passage, only man versus man;battles were fought between Houses, but these were usually to bloody troops, to keep their abilities sharp and to rectify slights of honour. COmbat could be arranged by champions, or a house could go to war with another. SHould a war occur, no territory was conquered, and it was very rare that more than a few hundred fought. There were ancient alliances, but somehow, they invented an exceedingly complex system which prevented the slaughter of thousand for political power. The ruling classes trained their sons every day, and for little but combat expertise.
Early on they had fought various incursions, many of which were from Ashapur or even slavers from Telmior. The south was unconquered wilderness, inhabited by Fey folk and abnormal beasts. This they left to it's own devices.
The nobility always formed the core of any army, gathered by family in units known as the Atakash Angelbloods. They were known by this nomer due to their exalted bloodline and for the wings they wore to battle. These wings were an ancient gift that allowed the wearer to offset some of the burden of weight from heavy armour, aiding the wearer in burden or over harsh terrain. They are agile, swift and deadly.
Each family is made up from a Ashkarakai (a 'chieftain'), his immediate family, then a feudal grouping of lesser families that provided 1 noble Angelblood and 2 in every 5 people in their jurisdiction would be called as levies for war. The system certainly works. Many small nations rose and fell in the forming of the greater ones that consumed them. Atakash was never conquered or made subserviant, despite many attempts to conquer them.
When Valerian took his armies south to Atakash, he had taken Salidir and was fascinated by this new culture. He observed their society and gained great respect for them as a people. In all of this time, he never visited in state or armed for war, but is said to have made many journeys into their lands and settlements as a plain trader. His main observation lay in the gauging of the price of Conquest. He decided that it would be a long, bloody war that would have to break the back of a society he had come to like. Each and every Angelblood would have to die or be turned to his side, and he knew they would never betray their own, so it was murder to achieve domination of them. Each settlement was strong, down to single noble manses, and would be resistant, almost naievely, to air attack.
He entered the country with ten men. The favoured 'divide and conquer' apoproach was of no use, as was any direct assault, so he simply walked into the GRand Hall, where 86 of the Ruling Lords were debating, and announced himself. He talked quietly about the visions he had, of his view as to how the world should be and how he had won his battles. He gifted each House with a SPurhawk, and gave every word a song of humility. He was perfect. He promised protection from the enemies that Atakash already had, that the young ANgelbloods would have the change to test and improve their skills in war. He would only ask that he would maintain a sizeable force of Angelbloods permanently, and that the province would need to provide the levies in the way that the Atakash already had agreed culturally. There would be no foreign interference in their society and it's culture and no taxes. He would, however, require a gift each year to support him, but no amount was ever set, and he would payt the Houses for their soldiers in the field. As it stands, Atakash gives this 'gift' once per year, and it contains what they can afford, no more, no less.
He brought inm his air cavalries, showed their maneuvres and the Lords were greatly pleased. He then gave them 200 of his Spurhawk Riders as a force under their own control, and would train new legions to use the hawks for themselves, as well as train the lower castes into Legions should the Province be attacked. It was genuine, and the lords voted on becoming an almostly totally autonomous province of the Empire. It was unanimous. Atakash would become vassals of this great man, Ulaya, now become Valerian.
The first thing to change for the better was the the great agrarians of the Empire...they sent many farmers and even Old Ones to Atakash, and the arid soil was enhanced, allowing better crops, water was diverted, better wells made - many valuable 'modernising' methods were introduced, but none would impact on their beliefs, nor change the way they were. Valerian was in love with their world, and he kept the Angelbloods by his side through every campaign, relied on them for their utter loyalty, and their ability to be able to show him a foolish decision he would otherwise have made, when others may stay silent for fear of their heads.
PROVINCE OF SALADIR
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The Imperial Province of Saladir in the East is a Principality as such, but they were placed under strict confines in this aspect by the emerging Emperor, after his swift, sky-borne, voctory in the south. As with many conquered countries, the SKyhawks were vital in the conquest of Saladir. They simply could not defend against such a swift and ecisive action.
The quick and light cavalry of the Saldir army was able to outmaneuvre anything that Valerian could muster; they knew how to fight in the sands and arid lands they occupied and used thier cavalry highly effectively, and had superb horse archers.Their noble 'Silver Lancers' were an appalling foe, and the Queen's Horse were fine shots. Their tactics were to outmaeuvre foes and wear them down, before hitting them hard as they stood exhausted, overcome by the heat.
Valerian brought in one army, making a defensive line around an oasis. Here, they were taunted and worn down. Dead littered the ground from horse archer fire. They sat for two weeks, leaving a force of 12,000 remaining from almost twice that. His was a decisive plan however. Behind the enemy lines, his air cavalry had already siezed the capital city, Selis, siezing the Queen and the royal family. The massive hawk force had been silencing any messengers, and now struck the Royal Army from behind. Ten thousand Spurhawk riders hit them at dawn. As the air cavalry struck, Valerian led his cavalry, which had been hiding 1 mile hence, carefully wearing sand coloured tabards and cloaks. Three Thousand Legion Lancers hit the left flank, even as Valerian advanced on the foot troops of the foe. There was a terrible battle being fought - the Royal Army had no chance.
The King died before Valerian could get to him, but the Royal Forces surrendered, and Valerian was always magnanimous in victory.
The Queen and her sons were kept as the rulers of Saladir, but the sons would only ever be princes, not kings.
To placate the populace, they were given three years of no taxation or tithes. Better water was drawn from deeper wells, a council was et up to help rule. This was made of equal numbers of peasantry, military and aristocracy. A chosen Imperial Governer was also appointed, to aid in rule. One hundred years after this, the Prince was given equal power to the governer, and the COuncil was given powers over all of the industry and infrastructure of the Province, whilst the Prince and Governer were placed in command of the society and military of the Province. SInce then, Saladir has remained an utterly loyal, supportive and productive member of the EMpire. Saladir is a noble and idealistic province, and have always served the EMpire well.
IMPERIAL PROVINCE OF DUINIR
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Before The Empire came, DUinir was a deeply wooded area, where small villages lived in a loose community. Wardens moved through and protected these villages, and decided fair justice on those within. Trade was arbitrated by them, as were most matters, and the Wardens were idealistic and had integrity for the main. The Great Ward wasa larger dwelling, dug out of an ancient Weirden Tree., ringed by smaller versions of the long dead father of the forest. The inhabitants of the Great Ward had no idea what a Weirden Tree was, or that the Lindiri had abandoned it some time before the DUinir moved into it. The highest amongst the Council of Wardens knew of the Lindiri; often they visited, as the tree was held in high regard, and those living there were determined to have given the forest the respect it deserved. SHould the Lindiri have wished it, at this point in their history, the entire population of DUinir would be dead overnight should they have lived differently.
Around 800 Wardens lived in the Great Ward, and a similar amount were travelling the villages of Duinir. These men were all that stood between their people and those would seek to harm them.The 20 COuncil members had been taught much of their knowledge, and their morals by the Lindiri. A few Wardens had been given the knowledge of Ley CHannelling; they proved to be almost the only humans ever to have been able to use it...the elves will always state that man cannot Channel because of their state of mind, not because they just cannot. Weiridng magic is the way of man in the use of magic, as the COllege of Sorcery taught the first firebinders under Valerian's tutelage.
Within DUinir, a large community of Lindiri still remained, deep in the forest, and it is likely that they do so now. The Wardens performed another task within their main shepherding of their people. They proscribed the areas the Lindiri occupied as places of no travel, although some did try entry; they either turned back on themselves are began where they had started, or a few were said to have made it to the spirits in the forest and came back much changed.
FOr generations, this way of life had existed, and it had worked. New blood within the COuncil pushed the larger settlements forwards, building upon their lands, erecting new buildings, moving some of the populace where there was building to be done, and an influx of trade brought new people to their forests, swelling the population. Their easy, sedate lives were changing. Full councils, run by Wardens, were installed within the larger settlements. This development hit it's height when they built their first 'city' - In the Woodpike lived nearly three thousand people, and it was a wonder, consisting of a walled town and many building erected in the huge trees that rose around it, and passed through it. A militia had formed to deal with past threats, but this city began training a small regular army.
As the walls were finished, there came reports of missing people to the East, and even an entire village had burned without any survivors. Here had come the first scouts of a foe they would later face in full. In the Great Ward, power was being transferred to individual settlements, and they were slowly becoming more isolated and insular. The Wardens in the settlements still behaved as they should, but the greater knowleedge they had was held solely within the Ward. To meet this threat, the Great Ward mobilised it's Wardens. Eleven hundred men and women macrhed to the east, to find this threat where the lesser skills of the towns-wardens would not endure.
They came across the village of Tenbeam and stumbled into the mire of slaughter left behind the invaders. They discovered a small force of Lindiri camped nearby, who had also begun to track these foes. They revealed what they knew, and that was little. NO one had seen the creatures the Lindiri described before, and that sent cold dread into the Wardens there gathered. AT this point a terrible tragedy was unveiled. A party of Lindiri scoutrs was ambushed by people of Duinir, sent from the settlements. Nearly 80 animist had been killed, alongside some few Fey, but they had fought hard. The Wardens from the Great Ward attempted to avoid any retaliation, but many animists marched in the deeper shadows of night, and the urban troops of DUinir were scattered, almost annihilated by them. The remainder were hunted down and slain - not one would return to their homes, and the Wardens could not argue against the Lindiri response.
A second army was on it's way though, and numbered three thousand...a host of the men of DUinir, but one not of the Wardens. It became apparent that the urban councils had fallen away from their old way and old oaths. They were met in the field; this time by the Lindir and the old Wardens. In a shifting battle, the outcome was sadly one-sided. The urban army was smashed, and the 'Warden' leaders were brought before the Lindir and men of the Great Ward. They were summarily executed. Wardens were dispatched to all settlements, to remove any of the COuncils that refused their oaths to be retaken.
In some places, the COuncils ran true, but in many, they're were utterly corrupt. Some welcomed the Wardens, others refused them entry, others sent their heads to the Great Ward.
SO the civil war began. The Great Ward gathered it's men and women; messages were sent to the settlements that were true. WOodpike, the 'capital' of DUinir remained true, but was swiftly placed under siege. The corrupted Wardens lay siege to it, and they sent three armies against the other large settlements that remained true, alongside a force to burn the Great Ward. This was their mistake. The army that moved against the Great Ward began to bring up ladders, even to construct siege engines, but they were never used. The tiny garrison, two hundred only, were on the walls when the Lindiri attacked. THree thousands of ANimists and another thousand Fey attacked this army. The Great Wardens sallied, and the enemy were routed.
The Fey followed this up. They moved to aid the Great Wardens, and battle under the forest eaves was fought for seven years. The entire West and SOuth of the province went over to the 'corrupt' COuncils, but many of the Northern and Eastern settlements went to the Great Wardens. The West and SOuth were far more densely populated however, and only the Lindir allowed them to hold. SLowly, theyheld their lines, and then slowly began to defeat the western settlements. It was the West that capitulated first. Their hearts were still tied to the forests, and it took only a show of force and three decisive battles to bring them back to the old ways. They would not take up arms against the SOuthern men of DUinir, but the held to the old ways. It seemed that a dense black cloud was lifting in the West. There was more to this thatn just simple corruption.
The south had hired mercenaries from Dalthrasia and some from further south, amongst the CLans of the Earthspine - CImrai, they were called, although the nobles called themselves the Haladin. The civil war was to be a longer and more bloody affair because of this. The New COuncil of DUinir had amassed nigh on twenty thousand troops, whilst the Great Wardens numbered only 1100 Wardens, 6000 militia and 3000 Fey. More years passed, and the war was swinging back and forth, decimating villages and shattering the walls of Woodpike, which had held a four month siege in the spring, when the main strength of fey were locked in battle in the south west, tricked into a rash strike due to the burning of Weirden Trees. Thye destroyed the forces that were killing the great trees, then swung north at speed, and struck the besieging force. This time, the battle was not so single sided, but the siege was broken and it took days to burn the dead.
The war entered it's final stage two months later, as the forces of the Great Ward were being increasing fewer. RUmours told that more of the Lindiri were marching from the south, but the Great Ward may well have fallen, had not Valerian (still known as Ulaya at this time) come upon them. With a swift assault by Spurhawk Riders, he took two major towns, and his infantry swept up to link with those of the Great Ward. In COuncil, Valerian met the Lindiri and the Great Wardens, and terms were agreed. The EMpire would aid them in their just war, leaving the Fey to their chosen lands in perpetuity, whilst DUinir would become a province of the feldgeling EMpire, under the terms that it would remain socially as it was, allowing for the development of the south into a defensive wall against these Haladin of the Earthspine Mountains. They wouyld pay tithes to the EMpire, provide soldiers, but woulkd, in return gain stability, growth and the just laws of the EMpire, and the promise of it's Legions in war.
This lasted hundreds of years, with great peace. Duinir was one of the few Provinces not to see the scars of war. This changed with the coming of the Naugiri, the Orcs, whose scouts had so long ago destroyed a village in the East of Duinir.
IMPERIAL PROVINCE OF ACASARENA
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SOme wars were fought hard during the first days of EMpire. Valerian's invasion of Acasarena was not one of his finest hours, but it paled when compared to the murder of Telmior. AT least Telmior had a reason for the hate it inspired in the clans of the Sea of Grass. Acasarena was another story entirely.
Having siezed Telmior, Dalthrasia, with the peaceful amalgamation of Atakash and DUinir, the road towards EMpire was paved for the youth Valeian was. He moved forces against two more foes: Saladir and Acaserena. Saladir was a a straightforward move - he would use diplomacy where possible, appeal to either the nobility or the people and engineer peace or a revolt.
Acaserena was a different tale entirely. Valerian knew nothing about them or their culture. They were simply beyond the borders of Telmior, and seemed a tempting target. Acasarena was wealthy as such, and it boasted an army that people called the 'Lionhearts'. Whilst not numerous, they proved to be a difficulty that almost tore the throne from his grasp. In the end, sheer brutality won out.
Diplomatic inroads were attempted, but all attempts were simply returned, always accompanied by the note 'A Lion does not bend it's knee to a savage'. This infuriated him, and he began plans to invade. His usual tactics included heavy use of quick moving troops, of the Air Cavalries that he prized above all else, and of forced marches and daring maneuvres.
Valerian delivered a three pronged assault. To the north of the province, he sent seven thousand of his clansmen, only one thousand of which were mounted, all of which were ferocious fighters and heavily blooded. The target was the principal chokepoint of the self-styled 'kingdom', which wound through to the north of Telmior, into Ancillia. The town of Salia fell to the army in one blistering assault.
In the centre, Valerian sent four thousands of SPurhawk Cavalry, to assault the Capital of Acasarena; the city of Isiltir. Here, the plan went wrong. Hearing of the fall of Telmior and the lands to the south and east of the Sea of Grass, they had prepared their defences against aerial assault. Catapults had been raised to send shards of steel into the air, they had raised spikes on the walls, netted off areas of the city and had hired eight hundred crossbowmen from ANcillia to protect the city.
The Dawn assault was perfect in execution, but the SPur Hawks were repulsed easily, with heavy losses. They had siezed some sections of the city, but with no support from ground forces, they were forced to flee. Luckily they could manage at least this with some grace.
In the SOuth, Valerian moved his main force, twenty thousands of the main Imperial Army. There were men of DUinir, Atakash Angelbloods, more Spurhawksmen, Clansmen and men of mixed cultures who were the foreunners of the Legions that would soon be fully formed in Valerians' mind.
They attacked the Lionsbreath - the narrow valley that held the Fortress of that name, nestled in a high vale, silver walls glistening, pennants flying in a mist - this was where the heart of the nation stood. With one blow, he could finish the kingdom as a threat or target. The SPurhawks swept up over the walls, and were met with heavy missile fire, but tore through into open streets. His other forces struck in three places; the front gate, an eastern tower and the southern central wall. Siege engines coughed, missiles flew and men on both sides died.
Within hours, it became clear that this would be a hard fight, so when the SPurhawks came from the north, they were met with delight. The news they brought was not heard with delight. One thousand were sent north again, with dire orders, which were to be executed to the letter.
The Lionsbreath was attacked three times that day, and the sounds of battle were heard twice more that night, but there was little movement on either side.
Dawn the next day brought Valerian's anger down on the capital City, Isiltir. FOr hour after hour, the hawks rained pots of oil, pitch, bales of straw and possibly many other flammable chemicals. For a half day, they did this, as the army from the north filed down into the plains before the city. Then, as the sun set, they dropped fireballs onto the city streets. The city burned for three days, uncontrollably. The screams rent the air, and all who fled from the conflagration were slaughtered as they ran from the walls. At the end of the third day, thousands litterted the plains, and the city was lifeless. He had his victory, but at what cost to his own morality?
When the news was delivered to Lionsbreath, the fortress surrendered unconditionally. Fearing for their people, they surrendered, and their nobility burned itself into the raw eyes of the young Valerian. He was said to have never forgotten it, and he paid for it every day in his own mind. In his youth, his temper had ruled his heart, and he had won, but he could never take away the truth, and never did. He paid minstrels to sing of the Lion-hearted men of Acasarena, and raised the province above most others in his new EMpire. He was said to have poured so much money into the province's rebirth that he almost bankrupted himself, but, by then, was invading north and south...still impetuous, but a little more restrained in his emotions.
IMPERIAL PROVINCE OF DALTHRASIA
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The History of the Province of Dalthrasia.
Dalthrasia is a prvoince of hills and flat plains, fertile, rich with metal deposits, even gemstone mines, it was, behind Telmior, the most powerful nation in the East before it encountered Valerian and his armies. Telmior was butchered, for the crime of slavery. Dalthrasia was won by other means.
The people of Dalthrasia is inhabited by tall men, akin to the men of Duinir, but founded on different ideals, and boasts very little forest. The political system is Monarchic in nature, but Valerian changed much of that. The people of the province worked hard, built walled strongholds, and spent a hundred years fighting petty wars before uniting behind their first King, Lodens. It was his grand-daughter, Iriyin that Valerian faced. Her consort was Prince Telenyrn, who had a solid basis in economics, but little if any military experience. Iriyin however had plenty of experience. She had led the Lords of Dalthrasia aganist the incursions of Telmior, who were no allies of Dalthrasia. She fought for several years to repulseenouigh attacks to make Telmior think twice about sending more men tot heir deaths for small gains.
SHe was a typical tom-boy; a girl who behaved in a most unlady-like fashion. Born to the saddle, wielding a blade of wood when four, she had made a great Queen at the age of fourteen, and now surpassed all expectations. SHe was not a fool. AFter Telmior toppled, she celebrated, but with the fall of other nations to Valerian, she saw the danger he presented ever more keenly, and knew he would turn his gaze to Dalthrasia; a prize for the taking, which would would seal all borders of the Sea of Grass with allies or client-states.
Her finest men were the Dalthrasian Pike. They were legendary men, who were simply the best soliders in the East. They had learned tactics to eliminate the chariots of Telmior, and she trained them hard - harder yet since she slept on the growing fear of Valeiran. She had trained her archers to stand within the ranks of pikmen, who held pikes in differing lines, to cover the heads of the soldiers from this Hawk threat. Still, she could not see a victory in the coming conflict, so she sought other means for victory or simple peace. The secret counsels she held were, as all secrets are, leaked by some, and other nobles believed she would ust capitulate. They plotted to remove her, and ally themselves with whatever 'free states' remained. They sent men to Ancillia and Ashapur, even to Clans from the Sea of Grass who still remained apart from Valerian's unification.
Iryin was to be removed, and it fell to her Prince COnsort to remove her. As happenstance sometimes is, she changed her guard that night, and the men of the House of the Ebon Hawk were replaced by the House of the Glittering SPear, who proved to be loyal. Unbeknownst to her, there were some who grew aware of this plot, and they siezed the chance to move against their traitor brothers. Three of the noble families stood by her, and they sent one of their own each to watch in her chamber each night. Luckily for her, they were present; usually she grew furious and shouted them out of her bower. Tonight she did not.
The attack came at midnight. Three hundred men were let into the palace complex, and they siezed the gate and other areas quickly and without alrm...few even triued to resist, and some joined them. WIth their numbers swollen, they assaulted the palace itself. Twelve of their number had remained inside the palace, and attacked her rooms. The Glittering SPears saw them with naked blades and barred the doors to them. It took them twenty minutes to break through to her chambers. Elsewhere, the sound of battle raged - the East WIng was under assault, and the West was unable to stave off the first attack. Their Palace Guard retreated further into the palace.
The Twelve attacked the Glittering SPears, who has roused the Queen and her unwanted 'champions. They entred the fray, and soon the Glittering SPears lay dead amongst the bodies of five of the Twelve. One of her champions was wounded, and his blood ran freely. The surviving seven of the assassins closed in on her, and they threw back their hoods. AMongst their number was her Prince, whom she loved. As he revealed himself, she almost collapsed with shock. Her champions threw themselves at the assassins, enraged by his betrayal. In a brief clash two more of the assassins had died, but only one Champion stood unharmed. Another clash saw one of them dead, and it appeared hopeless.
Else where in the palace, things were bad; the West Wing had fallen, and the East was sorely pressed. The central palace proved harder to force, but there was little chance that the hundred Glittering SPears that began that night alive could stave off over three hundred men. With the usual sound judgement, help came from an unexpected place. Men dressed in the red of the EMpire dropped from the backs of Spurhawks, into the Palace grounds. As with all secrets, they often became exposed, and Valerian had mnay means to do so. He led a small force himself, landing on the Palace roof, above the Queen's chambers. He saw knots of men fighting, and saw that his own men needed him, as they struggled to gain a foothold. AT first, some of the Glittering SPears attacked them, but soion saw their purpose, and threw themselves into the fray alongside these red men.
Valerian sent his band in two directions; one to lead the men below, and one squad to assist the Queen. The force he led dropped onto the balconies of the Queen, and saw her surrounded, one man standing between her and her would-be-slayers. EVen this man shook and swayed, slick with blood. Valerian charged into the assassins, bowling two over, whilst his other men advanced soemwhat more cautiously. Within mere seconds, men died and Valerian placed himself between the Prince and the Queen. The Prince's men despeartely fought Valerian's men, but were dying one by one. The Prince-COnsort duelled with Valerian, wounding him twice before Valerian eviscerated him. The Prince was a master swordsman, but he lacked Valerian's brutality and fearlessness.
In the palace the fight raged for another two hours. Valeian's men were left with the Queen, but Valerian himslef led the forces that retook the palace. As troops arrived from the city, Valerian became surrounded by the Dlathrasians, who openly argued about killing him. They almost did, but the Queen arrived in immaculate statehood and denied her people the killing of the man that could be the end of her Kingdom.
She wlecome Valerian into her lands, and he gave her the best terms he could: her people adored him for saving her life, and he would love her in return, destined to be her husband and her EMperor in one. The Province saw six months of war after that night, as the traitor-elements within the nobility were ruthlessly hunted and slain. Prmoised soldiers from Ashapur never showed themselves, but Ancillia made the mistake of letters offering aid. No clans were ever found to be culpable in this. Mere months after the traitors were finished, Valerian turned angry eyes on Ancillia.
There are 2 more provinces, which I will complete asap.
Here is the Imperial East's Troop Roster:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The Provinces of the East and West each have a unique troop type (sometimes 2), so their legions can hold their own...are cheap and plentiful too, but the Provinces are what makes the bare bones of the Marches so effective. If we look at the east, and use the terms regular, veteran and elite, then I will list the provinces of the East...
Ancillia - Pit Dogs - ELite medium Foot
Dalthrasia - Dalthrasian Pike - Elite Pikemen
Duinir Wardens - Veteran Spear, Veteran Bow
Telmior - Noble Sons and Veteran Light Horse
Saladir - SIlver Lancers - Veteran Light Cavalry
Atakash - ANgelbloods - Elite Heavy Foot
Kai-Losson - Kaidelanian Horse - Regular Horse Archers
Acasarena - Karesi Lionhearts - Veteran Heavy Foot
Sea of Grass - Spurhawk Air Cavalry and Atlaian Bloodhunters
*Possible*
Void Knights - Superior Infantry (Heroic)
Guard Legions - Elite Heavy Spearmen
In all likelihood, I will now expand on the base legion units...so Pike, Bow, Lancers, then I would like to hear opinions AND probably will add the Freefighter Volunteer legions....Warwidows, Harker's Damned and maybe others. ANy opinions on what could expoand the base legions and not Overpower the factions?
Last edited by Squeaks; August 25, 2011 at 01:58 PM.
Sorry to god-knows-how-many-post, but it's the only way I can do this 'un. ALong with the new Khezdruli unit, I thought I'd post some Khezdruli Lore over the next few hours/days....it's not been seen before, there's a fair bit of it and I'll let you digest before I string it all along, otherwise you'll face a wall of text which you'll die before you read it.
Soooooo, Dwarvey-stuff.
BRIEF KHEZDRULI HISTORY[B]
[/B]The Fathers were born of rock, or so the Leysmith Keepers say. They brought our people through the walls of the Egg, and their strength smashed through tons of rock, to release us into the world of sunlight. With watering eyes, the young of the new race fell on their knees and gave thanks to the Fathers.
We were taught in the open world, our Fathers the teachers, we the students. Under the stars, we learnt of words and numbers, and were given knowledge of angles and shapes. More than anything, these were the areas to which our questions drifted. Eventually the Fathers gave us materials, and like our young now, we played and whittled at rock and eventually made tools to scrape metals, then metal tools to work other substances, until they finally gave us fire. Fire was a tool of the Four, they told us, and that the use was of great responsibility. We should never misuse fire. And to this day, we haven’t.
For many years after, we studied, then the Fathers let us see the Others. Other creatures like us, in the distance at first, then close up, then, finally we actually spoke to them. These Others were full of disdain for us, and their gaze often fell to our bodies, for we began to wear the things we made. They looked with envy at what we could do – for they could not do such things themselves.
So, we began to move towards the great spires of stone, white coated, huge mountains of rock, for we sensed what lay beneath, and our thoughts travelled to the source of our need. We, the Khezdruli, needed to create, we needed metals, stone, crystal; all were needed to keep the fears at bay.
We often dreamt of fear, of a gnawing hunger, of a need that had to be satisfied, of a loss that needed filling, and the only way was to create. And what better to create than the things we were doing? And to do that, we needed more metal, more stone, and the trinkets the Others envied were of crystal, pure and clear, some glowing with the lights of Sun and Moon, others with a liquid sense, swirling with colours of beauty.
Thus, the Khezdruli, those you call ‘Dwarves’, burrowed, our tunnels mining deep into the mountains, to open veins of metal and precious elements, which we worked to understand and name, for the Others knew the names of animals and plants, but these wonders, the metals that melt in water, the one that burns in air..what did they know of them? Nothing. It was ours to call a name to these.
Our Holds were beginning then, but we had no need to keep gates, or doors, for nothing ever threatened us, and we foolishly believed in our safety. For some reason, arguments with our Fathers began about now, and would lead to their departure in coming years.
The mines expanded, and our refuse needed to go somewhere, so we open trenches in the valleys, and the ores we refined, then elements we had used and the wastes we created all needed to go out of the mountains. What else could we do? We had a right to our own destiny, and our choice was to create, to burrow, to build, to make things of beauty.
Some of the Others began to visit, especially the Seldiri, as they were fascinated by our fires, and we traded like for like, and the Others brought things we could not make. They brought us molds that would grow in the dark, and we farmed them in the tunnels, for other living things could not survive there. AT first they tasted bitter and austere, but we grew to love them, and still survive on this fare.
But then the Ildiri announced their proclamations on our way of life. They ordered us to cease our natural ways, and return to the surface, to learn and talk, and eat of the land. This was for them, not us, and, as we now called it, the Hunger was ever present. We never question WHY we Hunger. We just do. Build, create, fashion, polish; it drives us, but it makes such beauty possible, and no real harm is done.
But the Ildiri grew angry, and the Seldiri left, the Lindiri began to pick at our outpost. Some even reported violence from the forest devils. It was after some years of this that they realised we would not cease. If they had bothered to ask, we would have told them our reasons, but we didn’t get the chance ourselves. They just came.
Thousands of them poured into our Holds, and their blasts of light shredded our bodies. But we fought back. With tooth and nail we fought, and often with grasped statues and lumps of rock, we broke their bodies, and the dead piled high. In distant sections of our lands, the Smiths became warriors, and they drew plans of weapons that would kill as well as the Others’ beams and lights.
The War continued, and we lost many Holds. They lost many people, but an ending was never in sight. We were evening the odds with our new implements of slaughter, but their weapons still outclassed ours, and the initial toll had been so high. It was time to end it, for peace, so we sent Azghal.
Azghal went from the deeps and explained the plans we had. The Others talked and whined, but the Celestiri won that end of the peace. We would only delve as much as kept out Hunger away, never more, and would try to develop ways to limit what they called ‘the damage’ we ‘caused’. Upon our agreement, the war ended, and there were no more attacks. We could dissolve our dead and try to rebuild what we had lost. The Others let us keep all of our treasures, which was the greatest surprise of all our history. We have some respect for them, that they control such naked greed.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF LEY
The Outsiders, or Elves as they are sometimes known, used weapons of such awe in our great War, that we had to try to learn their ways, to safeguard our future, we had to counteract their advantage. Somehow, they sucked it from the air, or ground. If ground, then we must be able to exert some use from it.
In one Hold, the elves had forced us to leave, and we sent back Azghal and another to find the reason. For years, they searched the caves and tunnels, and found n’er a thing, but they did see that patrolling elven guards bowed to certain areas, and traps and suchlike were erected in one particular area. It was here, he used the elements that ate stone, and he finally uncovered a vein of crystal, crystal that glowed many colours and shapes could be seen as if one was dreaming.
Stealing this crystal, he returned, and experiments were undertaken. For fifty years, the smiths worked, and finally drained part of the crystal to make a tiny mechanical toy move across a table. Here we had what the elves had feared we would get. We had what they called Ley, but in a form different to theirs, although we know nothing with any degree of certainty.
Over time, the Warsmiths managed to divine more of this crystal. It could be split, and small parts taken from the whole. With meditation, a Leysmith could change the colour of the crystal to permanence, and the proximity could make a model have the characteristics of the crystal’s colour. The size of the crystal, the more that characteristic held thrall.
From this point, it was short work to find the idea that would lead to our greatest works. Unfortunately, something interrupted our train of thought. The Infected.
They came in waves, inhabiting the remains of those we entombed, biting, tearing, slavering. They killed in a frenzy, and their hissing filled our dreams. We have few records, but we know that we were forced to seal many Holds and the Ildiri filled them with water. Still they remain sealed, locations lost to time.
*
After the rebuild, the work began with the new-found power of Ley, as the elves called it. What the difference between the stones and the elven strangeness was, is unclear, but we were working for many years before the Infected, then work ceased, and we took it up again about 400 years before the founding of the Empire, and worked in secret, progression slow, the mining of crystals done with care and precision.
Stocks of crystals were gathered, and greater machines were made, ever more complex, ever bigger. By the time of the Ghaur, we could move a stone or metal giant of some 20 foot. We called these creations Gnomes.
The Ghaur war started against the Empire and elves and we stayed within our halls, as so often during the petty human wars. Oh, these humans had tried to involve us, and bloodshed had occurred under one or two attacks on us, but we had always let them into the halls, then none would ever leave, and legends grew and fear germinated, until they left us to our own Hunger.
Our involvement in the Ghaur war was started by the need of human and elf for our weapons, weapons that had been created to kill elves. We sold them weapons in return for things we couldn’t make or grow ourselves, and became a target for the Ghaur, who had left us alone before then – whether through design or just incident, who knows?
The Ghaur attaked in force, and were repulsed, through our own skill and the strength of the Gnomes, but we knew they would not stop once begun, and we heeded Valerien’s call, and marched to the Saden Fields to join his Empire and to fight side by side with the Others.
The battle is legendary. The gnomes broke the tide again and again, and the killing Ley lanced Ghaur from the skies. Human mages added confusion, but the battle turned when the Avatars, Dragons as Valerien called them, arrived. They won the battle, but were punished for it to the point of extinction. Never would we want to feel their ire.
KHEZDRULI ATTITUDES
The Khezdruli are a remarkably insular race in general, the only exception being the Followers of Azghal, who deal regularly with the outside world, and enjoy good relations with many other nations and species. Due to a lost reason, the Khezdruli and the Rysthari lizard-folk do not enjoy any kind of relation, but any Dwarf will swear complete lack of knowledge of the notions behind this.
The older Cults do not mix well with foreigners, and their Holts are virtually barred from all who would gain access. Despite their alliances in the past, the elven nations are not seen as completely trustworthy, and are thought of in the light of children, playing with energies that should be contained, not encouraged and released in abandon.
In general, there are ambassadors to other realms, and they tend to be older, more experienced Khezdrul, but their powers are limited, and any decision of import is passed back to one of the Kings of the Dwarven Realms. The ambassadors tend to change with relative frequency, almost as if it would be bad for a friendship to develop.
Having said all this, the Dwarves do tolerate many things. Slights are treated with humour, and most Dwarves are willing to have a good drink with anyone; it’s just that the majority ARE content to stay in their Holts and ignore the world around them. They are not rude, aggressive or petulant – they are generous to their friends, loyal to the point of idiocy and have a very dry sense of humour.
Laws within the great undermountains are the absolute bedrock of Khezdrul existence. They have rules set in legions of books, dating from the inception of any form of basic society they had, holding laws that deal with every aspect of life. They are not intrusive, nor do they take the part of tyranny, but they are complex and incredibly thorough. No other nation has ‘rules’ that are this encompassing, although the Federation do have a lot of Laws.
Punishments for breaking the law of the Realm varies wildly. For simple crimes, such as breaching a trust, there are punishments from a beating given by the injured party, to fines, whose payment is issued direct to the injured. For more complex or extreme crimes, the punishments rise in their vicissitude.
The crime of murder is not completely unknown, but is punishable by devourment. A prisoner is taken to the places near where they expose children condemned by witching powers, and is left for the ‘Mountain to Devour’, chained to a large outcrop for whatever creature may come hunting..
Some of the punishments can seem severe, but when one actually looks at the crime committed, there is a certain amount of equality in justice not found elsewhere. Above all, there is practicality. Notably, very few crimes are really committed, as the family and Cult deal with the ‘corrective’ upbringing that leads to a secure society.
DWARVES AND THEIR GNOMES
Dwarven culture has relied upon Gnomes for a thousand years at least. At the Battle of Saden Fields, they were a rock that withstood the storm that was the Ghaurchlai, until their Ley Batteries diminished, and they stood as rock, or toppled to the bloodied ground.
Gnomes come in a massive variety, from small versions of household pets, to machines that radiate heat, to huge automatons that grind their way across the field of battle. Of course, it is the Gnomes of warfare that are most often seen. Often these are machines that mine or perform tasks using strength and power, but some are developed purely for the purpose of war.
Principle amongst these are the Gleamers, the rotary giants that smash huge hammers through armour and bone, but Golems that mine, Spineshanks that spit metal death, and Scuttlehops that protect units from enemy missiles whilst they advance.
Programmed to their only use, they prowl the tunnels, stride across battlefields and clank on wheels - spin on rotors, flying, walking, crawling. Their variety of execution matches the Ghaurchlai in their ingenuity, the brains of the best of the Dwarven race feverishly working to better their lives.
Through the tunnels of Dwarven homes, small rotors propel tiny gnats, radiating light in the dark.
Humming Drones move food through streets and Warders screech alarm at the approach of strangers to the gates. So many varieties, such imagination; it all came from a race thought to have none of such qualities, no imagination, their thoughts set in stone. Nobody believed in their lust for variety, of what the Hunger did to them, giving pain that wrought emotion in the emotionless, imagination in the unimaginative.
It is also thought that there Gnomes as yet unseen in war, and others, older, sealed deep within the Holts that were Infected. These Gnomes could carry secrets of great import, of the technology that bore the Gnomes, of secrets of the Dragon, of wonders, yet balanced with the terror that was the Infection.
DWARVES AND THE INFECTED
From the depths, from graves and hollows, from blood-caked tombs, they came. Some were the bodies of the dead, given life again – others were worms of the earth, or prowlers that had the shell of insects and the teeth of dragons.
They wrought a terrible slaughter, massing against Holt after Holt, and many fell in a wave of blood and death, even the best Dwarven warbands unable to stem the tide. Gnomes were ripped apart by claws that could rend stone, and the dead ate the flesh of the living.
Dwarves fled their cities, and poured into the lands of elves,. Lindiri killed some, but the Ildiri saw what had become of those that stayed, and could see the Infection flooding into their lands, sweeping aside resistance spreading and spreading, as the dead began to walk again and brother ate brother in the nausea of death.
Wielding Ley, the Ildiri swept into the Holts, and sliced through the Infected, but the gloom that surrounded them challenged the Ley, and the Dwarves had mined the Ley, and their powers failed in places. Other Ildiri persuaded the Wild Elves to cease their hunting of the Dwarves, and some Selidiri were persuaded to march to the Dwarves’ aid.
Expeditions massed, and the holts were assaulted anew. Infected died, but elves and dwarves fell, too, and some rejoined the ranks of the Infected. Selidiri that fell did not rise again, and they were chopen to activate the Gnomes that lay dormant.
However, all knew that they could halt the disease, but not lance it. The Selidir sent their braves into the tunnels, and some made it out again, with tales of despair and travesty. Of the infected, more was revealed, and the knowledge that the infection was the result of the dead nerves of the Dragon became apparent. In essence, the infection was born of the Dwarves, and they had to sacrifice something of themselves to destroy it.
Also apparent was that water was a weakness. Where rivers crossed the tunnels, and bridges had fallen, no infected had crossed. With that knowledge, armed with a weapon of intellect, the Ildiri formed a plan to flood the Holts, flood and seal them, keeping the infected closed off forever, drowned in the Tears of the Dfragon, and cut off from any intrusion into the world. The Khezdruli’s sacrifice was the loss of all but a few of their Holts. A few had no evidence of Infection, but nine in ten holts were to be sealed forever.
The Ildiri performed great magics, and rivers changed course for brief periods, enough to flood the tombs that the Holts had become, and the Dwarves made seals from pure Ley Crystal, infused with powers of the Selidiri. The Lindiri grew entire foirests over the seals, deep earth covering them, until no-one could tell that there had ever been a Holt there at all.
DWARVEN CULTS
There are seven cults, formed after each of the seven Lords brought into sentience by the twelve Fathers of the Celesti. Each has a history recorded in the Lexicon Gnomes, some thousands of years old, written in the simplest form of the Dwarven tongue.
Many of the references between the Cults are similar, but the personalities of the Seven are inherent in their descendents, as if persona were genetic amongst the Khezdruli. Due to marriage within society being internal amongst a single Cult, one would think there was inbreeding, but the nature of their birthing system proscribes this.
Birthing into the cults is through differing methods; for instance, the Karagash Cult make their children in cauldrons of lead, where the elements are combined to form the shell of a youngling. The process makes for Dwarves which are hardy, slow-witted, but with incredible stamina and a penchant for food-mining.
The Cults are as follows, but the eighth, the Azghali are also listed – a ‘new’ organisation, based on the intervention of Azghal in the Ley wars. Some hundreds of years after his death, a few of the dwarves who served under him formed a cult of their own, and, despite being seen in less than positive vein, they hold an important position within the military.
KARAGASHI
The Karagash Cult, as mentioned, are born in Lead crucibles, and are often used in menial tasks, building Golems to aid them. Their understanding of the Ley is minimal, and they often see it as an unnecessary waste of Ley to use Gnome for ordinary household tasks. Few of the psychically adept younglings are born into this cult, but they are always slain. None are known to have survived the Karagash version of exposure that kills the majority of weirding Dwarves.
Probably 80% of all food in the Dwarf Holts are produced by the Karagash, and some of the strongest members become useful to the military due to their strength and hardiness. In combat, they are lacking in strategy, but they batter their way through their foes witth a complete lack of finesse, just brute killing power.
ARZAKI
The Arzak Cult is the cult of the quick-witted, a mischievous family, that has a turn of mind to equal any amongst the other races. They are mercurial at best, and many are quite unhinged by the Hunger, which manifests in the creation of crystalline beauty. Their products are seen as the art of the Dwarves, and statues, whether powered by Ley or not, lamps and other instruments are born of the Arzaki.
Arzaki warriors are often the officers of units, but those driven mad by the Hunger are formed into a little known cell, spoken of little, and unleashed in desperate times. They have remained unseen for quite some time. As dwarves live long lives, there may be hundreds. The Arzaki are prone to disease of the mind. This may be a by product of the Quicksilver used in the birthing of their young. When they first came to the elves, they were the ones that found the greatest affinity with their teachers. All water within Holts is overseen by Arzak cultists.
ENOWERE
The Enowere Cult is the Cult of the Earth, of static living, of the Old Ways, and little changes in their viewpoint on life. They are stubborn and implacable, and still remember the Ley wars. They never forgave Azghal for his interference, and they have great animosity towards the elves. Even Ley crystals are seen a s a necessary evil, but the thought that they are robbing the elves of their ley talents seems to be what keeps them silent on the matter.
The Gnomes created by the Enowere are the Gleamers and Glimmer Grinders, monstrosities that kill and smash, destroy and obliterate the foes of the Khezdruli. Enowere younglings are born with the most basic process, with few exotic minerals and represent the basis of Dwarf Lore and opinion.
DISANDA
Disandrae are the tallest of the Dwarves. They are created with great amounts of zinc and potassium, which makes them vulnerable to fire and water, but they are lethal fighters, energetic and skilful, lithe and flexible. They are seen as a precious part of the Khezdruli nation, and are not numerous. Many die in their youth,when they are most vulnerable to the elements.
BANDALAN
The Bandalan are the most numerous, and form the bulk or both army and workforce. They have many skills, but excel at few. Stout, born of Iron and Carbon, they are slow, but run everywhere, moving for days without rest, and eating on the run. They need little sustenance to keep them going, and feel few emotions beyond those a Dwarf should have. Most Dwarves are measured against theBandalani, and they have pride in this.
KHARZIN
Kharzin Dwarves are the Ley masters. They understand the flow of Ley that powers the elves, but disregard the legends of the Dragon, instead believing in the words of the rebel Lords who turned on the elves after the elven Treachery. The Hunger is high in these creatures, and they pursue the manipulation of the ley crystals to obsessive lengths.
Powedered Crystal is used in their birthing, and rumour suggests that many are left to die on the mountains. Their numbers have dwindled, and they are the Masters of the Gnome. Few are ever risked in battle, and those that are usually form Gate Watch units. Their relation with Azghal’s Cult are actually very good, but they keep their distance due to the fact that Azghal debated the wisdom of their use of Ley Crystals.
ONNACH
Onnach Dwarves are few, and are never seen by most. They are blind and see by sound waves, hiding deep in the mountains, mining Ley, which they devour, rather than rock and mineral. Some say they are mutated, but no evidence suggest any magical abilities. They just slide from shadow to shadow, and whisper secrets unheard for thousands of years. Their Lexicon Gnomes are thought to contain the secrets of existence, and are shrouded in mystery. No Onnai serve in the military, but they often bring intelligence, their methods unknown, but effective.
Sometimes the Onnach are called the Dreamers, as they whisper from the dark, and avoid the light of day. In the deep, they are lethal killers, but have no real relationship with any other s of the Dwarf-kind, and resent them transgressing their imposed exile. No children from this Cult are sent to die of exposure, and some wonder at whether there are those amongst them that have powers unnatural, but the knowledgeable argue against this. Much of the Ley Crystal mined is found by the Onnach, but nobody ever sees them provide the veins.
AZGHALI, THE EIGHTH CULT
The Azghali are born in crucibles of a secret mix of materials, and some believe they have chemicals that are forbidden in their genetic make-up. For sure, they are unlike the other Dwarves, progressive, friendly to the Others and willing to forego the use of Ley, preferring to work for all that they earn. There have been occasions when they have in fact demonstrated in numbers about the development of new Gnomes, especially for what they see as frivolity.
Their warriors are both hardy and skilled, with essences of all other Cults within their make-up. Most of the Khezdruli seen outside the mountain Holts are Azghali, and the world at large sees them as the Dwarves to measure others by. This irritates the Seven Cults, as they see them as tolerable at best – at worst, a disease to be rotted out. Maybe, one day, they will be expelled from Khezdruli society, as they intermingle too much with the Others.
KHEZDRULI CULTURAL MUSINGS
The Khezdruli rely heavily on a Cult and family based legal system, which is inherently geared towards physical punishment, rather than incarceration. Due to the sedentary nature of their brains, they would not be considered ‘punished’ by simple ‘waiting’.
Often punishments involve physical address, whether through short but sharp pain affliction, or by long and arduous work detail on shameful pursuits. This is usually administered by the wronged, or, for crimes not covered by this simple casting, from Cult figures, or from family.
Having said this, there is so little crime, and most crimes are caused through insult or abrasive conduct, and a few through excessive use of Ley acquisition, or by the occasional theft of Ley devices. There is no crime linked to poverty, as such a thing is non-existent. Dwarves do not suffer illness, save the occasional ‘depressive’ state, or melancholy, induced by a physical reaction, usually cured by administration of minerals to counter-act deficiencies.
Few Dwarven families suffer from ‘poverty’. Cult resources are vast, and those who suffer hardships are easily given aid to counter their circumstance, and help to get the family out of any problem. Debt does not exist, as there is no ‘lending’, and banks are non-profit organisations. However, there is nothing ‘utopian’ in their society. Demands are such that a Dwarf ‘belongs’ to his culture, and has no existence outside his Cult. Only family matters more than society.
Society itself is not a thing of higher meaning. It is simply the machine that makes ‘everything work’, and, if it takes a life, it is seen as fitting to sacrifice oneself. The Gate Watch and other ‘valiant’ units of the military are seen as such from the outside, but are usually filled with the ranks of those who have done their life’s work, or lost the meaning in their lives through loss of family. It is not so much gallantry as a necessary sacrifice – or even a form of ‘euthanasia’.
Upon death, the possessions of the deceased are passed to family, chosen before death – wills are common, and the wishes of the deceased are inviolate. They cannot be challenged. The deceased loses his living ley ration, but may pass on any ‘pension’ he may have been gifted with. Gnomes are given in the will.
Illness does occur, and the feared ‘infection’ is sometimes seen and destroyed. Other diseases include madness induced by the ‘Hunger’, and physical illness can cause ulcerations – cancer is not unknown. Most are cured by administration of minerals, but some end in a fatality.
Dwarven ‘art’ is normally a part of the ‘Hunger’, and expression of the Hunger is considered art.
Sometimes the Khezdruli see the pain in a work, and this seems to them to be the purest form of expression – honesty is prized, and anyone willing to bare their soul is admired. The piece does not even have to have beauty, but they are usually flawless. Children first feeling the Hunger express it in a base form, and their work is a matter of parental pride. Their openness is admired, and the basic nature of it does nothing to diminish it’s value. Thus beauty is not measured by sight, but is measured by emotion, which is a strange thing to those who think they understand the nature of Dwarves – who, on the face of it seem like automatons. They are not, but are just very private . They genuinely care about each other, and two individuals may feel love, but in a Dwarven way that outsiders would not appreciate.
Warfare is viewed neutrally. Very few military undertakings are moved through hate or anger, although some have been, but are initiated through need only. Most wars have been in defence of the realms, but the Ghaur and the Infection were fuelled by anger and fear. The Khezdruli wished to remain neutral against the Ghaurchlai, but were involved due to destruction of entire Holts.
In a battle, there is no massacre. A beaten enemy will be left to retreat. There is no point in total destruction of a foe, just in their defeat and damage enough to prevent them from retaliation for some time to come – so they can ruminate on their actions.
Thus the Dwarves are not in any way evil. They follow strict codes, and their nature leads to compssion. They love privacy, and retain distance from their neighbours, but not through negativity, but through a wish to be left in peace. There is no weakness in them, and Azghal was an anomaly, and his legacy is viewed with distaste by most. It is probable that they will open up more and more in the future – change is in the air, and is probably irresistible in it’s momentum.
What this will mean is unknown and unforeseeable, but it is certain, and will undoubtedly alter the world. There is much the Khezdruli can offer the stability of the world, but there are dangers in their mining and rape of the Dragon, and the Infected are a threat none should take lightly. It is unthinkable that the Hunger can be resisted, but their delving can be controlled, and the Azghali would see this happen.
SO, for the Dwarves, change is coming, and, whilst their culture will alter, their way of life may be crippled, and many many suffer at the hands of change, there will be much that is good to come of it.
DWARVEN PHYSIOLOGY
Dwarves are generally quite short in stature, hence the colloquial term ‘Dwarf’. In some circles, the word is simply an insult, but feelings on the matter vary. Their bodies are very heavily muscled, with the joints and tendons protected by sheaths of gristle, sliding over the weaker points on an excreted fluid that lubricates and prevents any wear. Scholars attest that this fluid has remarkable properties in a medicinal purpose, but few have had a chance to test this theory.
Younglings are birthed in crucibles, where the father and mother mix elements prescribed by their Cult, then bind it and fertilise the amalgam of minerals, metals and other organic material. A tiny grouping of cells is expelled from the mother, and the parents watch as the cells begin to absorb the mix of elements that will allow it to grow, and take shape as a form of egg-sac.
The growth of the baby is then monitored, as he lies in the crucible, absorbing the ground substances they bring to feed him. As he grows within his ‘egg’, the child’s body begins to take on the appearance of a small humanoid, and, after twelve months, is able to tear through the birthing sac, and take his first breath, usually followed by a squeal and ululating cries.
Growth after the birth is rapid, and it takes only five years until he is able to function with an adult level of sentience. Talking comes slowly, but writing and manual skill is quickly learnt.
The Khezdruli have twin stomachs, one to dissolve minerals, one to dissolve metals. They fix their diet to the way they are feeling, so an unwell Dwarf will know which ‘medicines’ to take. Rock is their main source of nutrients, as is earth, but metals tend to have a much larger effect on their health. Dwarven medicine is very advanced.
The actual make-up of their body is mostly flesh, coating metal-laced bone structure, and organs made of varying compounds. For instance, their ‘liver’ is a chalk filter, their hearts are made of phosphor, their blood-oils keeping it from igniting. When a Dwarf dies in battle, he will sometimes combust.
They live and breathe like humans, but their eyes are excellent at low-light vision – they have filtering skins, which slide over the iris and lens, to allow them to change their visual patterns. Thus, they have a filter which acts as some form of heat perception, and another which gives basic shape recognition in total dark.
Khezdruli brains are an anomaly, made from gem substances, each Cult having a different amalgam. These gem-clusters have differing densities, and the varieties perform specific functions. Brain surgery is an area surgeons excel at.
The nervous system of a Dwarf is regressive, and they do not feel pain as we do. They become aware that they are hurt, but the actual riot of pain we experience is numbed and contained.
That should do for now!
Last edited by Squeaks; August 26, 2011 at 05:09 PM.
I find the lore very interesting and it explains allot about the background of this world, this is excellent and i cant wait for more!
Thanks so much!! There is so much more to show....so haviung someone enthusiastic is great! WIll show the history of Telmior now, which is one of the hardest ones to tell, all because you were nice!
HISTORY OF TELMIOR PROVINCE (EAST EMPIRE)
Telmior was ever pre-eminent amongst the First Kingdoms. They had a tightly ordered society, they were forward thinking, inventive and rich. They had the most fertile lands, were first to build walls, first to train a standing army, and they had one over-riding principle that this majestic society was built upon; slavery. For hundreds of years it had remained thus, and, in a few short weeks, they were to lose it all - for Ulaya, become Valerian, was to tear their world apart in a spume of blood and terror. The EMpire of Telmior was going to fall.
Telmior was a land of open plains and rolling hills. To the north was Ancillia - the broken realm, a mix of mountain, rough steppe and savaged by a volcano and sheets of black ice that rolled down through the Winter. The East lay Dalthrasia, slightly south of that land was the Sea of Grass, where the most prized slaves were found, and further south were others, too far to matter.
Telmior revolved around the Brazen Queen, a woman always masked, the EMpress of their world, lady of bronze, the whisperer of delights, she was said by most to be a true beauty, a wonder, by some a hideous crone who hid behind her mask. One thing was true - she never seemed to age or die, and that was reason enough for some to actually worship her.
When the first walls were built, the Brazen Queen and her Noble Sons were tired of fighting the barbarians of the Sea of Grass. They were beset by foes on every side, and all lacked order. The wallsd swiftly grew, and her people were safe more often than before. Her vigil was constant. She build up trade with some of the settlements at the edge of her demesne, and sent diplomats out to sow accord. Her nation was rising, and she knew that they stood above all others. Whether the ELves had ever been here was unclear, but precious little of her rule bore any shaping by elves.
Her rule expanded murderously. She sent her armies to conquer Ancillia, for fighting men could be trained from their stock, their harsh lives perfect for creating warriors. The few settlements in the south of the land fell in days. The northern half was harder to bring to heel, so she begana brutal campoaign, burning the few fertile areas, salting the ground, brining them to starvation before accepting their surrender. These northmen amongst the Ancillians were the best foidder for her new slave armies. In her cold chest her brazen heart sang.
The Ancillians were made to construct their own walls, to maintain a garrison of Telmiorne soldiers, to provide a levy of slaves each year, to have to beg for scraps from her table, and their harsh lives got harder.
She sent her forces two ways in the next hundred years; she raided the Sea of Grass constantly, for their quality as slaves was renowned, and she had found Ashapur, whose burgeoning slave culture caught her eye - she had an outlet for slaves, and Telmiorans were moving beyond their borders for trade, war and every other venture known to man. Daqlthrasia briefly fell to them, but they simply were asked to make a military tithe and a slave tithe each year; not as base as her 'accord' with Ancillia.
Her mens' forays were led deep into DUinir now, and she fought with the men of Saladir, although they made no good slavestock, preferring to die than submit - much like the Barbarians of the Grass Sea, save that she had discovered how to break these men, whereas those of Saladir, noble and high-moraled could not be brought to heel.
The 'EMpire' of Telmior grew, but more and more, the conquered nations became a vat of slaves to Telmior, even as the spread of this illness of conscience was festering within the very nations she ruled, as they came to depend on slaves from other nations within their own slave nation. The poison of moral decay spread, and she grew with it. She formed a new army, the Immortal Souls, slaves all, utterly hers to command and with them Telmior grew mightier still.
We come to the birth of Ulaya. Here, the Brazen Queen had converted all of her clients and vassals to what she had wanted - a fat vat of money, slaves and goods that self governed and almost existed outside her demesne, yet were so injextricably tied to Telmior. The Queen had finally achieved perfection, and now the sole target or her desire lay in the Sea of Grass. Records differ hugely, but she began to send slaver armies into the Sea now, upwards of four thousand men at a time sometimes, and the slaves became regular, but not plentiful. They would never unite - they had done on occassion, and this had held her from conquest, but they were dissolute now, stuck into several bandings of tribe, clan, caste, and even differences in their general demeanor. SO fragmented were they that she at last became intent on conquest, but the chance never came to true fruition, for now the child, Ulaya, was a man, and the doom of Telmior was written in the stars.
Ulaya was to become Valerian, and this name was taken from the books of LOre SHE kept, gathered from her lands, the names of nobles and high born men, which he stole from her.
We come to the scene at the Calrion City, the city nearest the Sea of Grass. HYere, at dawn, the guards pulled their governor, Demetir, from his bed. A large column of his slaving foirces was to be seen approaching the city, with a massive crop of slaves from the clans. There seemed to be few guards, but many slaves. This was truly exciting, but, when they approached the gates, it was found that the slaves were his men....nine men bound to one, all blinded save the tenth, who was leading them home.
Such was the horror in his heart that he bore no consideration to what was happenbing elsewhere. As the blinded men began to clog the entry to the city, as the gates yawned ever wider open, the forces of Ulaya attacked. Thousands of Spurhawk Cavalry dropped from the skies above, each carrying rocks which they dropped upon the city's defenders. From the tall grasses came two thousand ATlaians, 'Bloodhunters', who overran the gates in mere seconds, even as Demetri realised what his foe had done. Horsemen poured from the plains, more infantry. Thousands of barbarians from the Sea of Grass poured in to sack the second biggest city in the Telmioran EMpire.
The war moved swiftly. Two towns fell to Ulaya, both burned, but the worst thing, the travesty, was that he killed good freefolk, and FREED the slaves. Ancillia had declared themselves independent very quickly after the first blows of the war fell. Others may have well assaulted her on every side as they fell silent, watchful, eager even. SOme settlements sent soldiers, others freed their slaves, others simply barred the gates to the walls that Telmior had had them build.
Within a month it became apparent that the Brazen Queens must meet Ulaya, now daring to call himself Valerian, in the field. She gathered the Immortal SOuls, gathered her lesser slave legions, her allies that had sent forces, the mercenaries she maintained and the Noble SOns led the regular army behind their gilded chariots. SHe fielded 40,000 men, the largest force to have graced the East, and awaited the Men of Ashapur, who had promised half that number in addition; their full host to protect their interests.
Valerian, hearing of their warcamp, accepted the surrender of the latest small town aqnd marched immediately towards her forces. Never one to miss opportunity, he gathered all to himk and arrayed his host opposite hers. He had less than twenty thousand, many of whom were very young clansmen or even were forces of the Telmioran slave army. To maximise his surprise, he had not had time to gather his best and his garrison troops, but his AIr Cavalry were all present. Messages had been sent, but he dared not hope any would be in time. Valerian knew his foe and he also knew how effective his strategies were when in combination, and this battle held the greatest risk he would ever take, yet had the greatest plan behind it. He gave himself a one in ten chance of winning....less of surviving. Yet this was not yet a dream of EMpire, but one of revenge.
With Dawn's rise, the battle horns sounded. Valerian's forces were arrayed in supportive ranks, having piled dirt up during the night for their archers to gain height, and their spearmen took the front ranks, protecting the better but less armoured soldiers of the clans.
In her centre, the Brazen Queen of Telmior had the Noble Sons, flanked by thousand upon thousand of the other forces. As the chariots swirled around her, she signalled the Immortal SOuls, and they split to take the far point of each flank, enveloping the forces of Valerian, each of those forces set in an enormous wedge. From almost any viewpoint, the battle seemed won, but it wasn't.
As you may already consider, Valerian had been working on the slaves that foremed the greater part of her host, but it was not a simple end to this battle. The first ranks clashed, and men and horses died. For an hour they fought, before the first slave and allied forces pulled back, retreating at speed. The loss of these men left gaping holes i her lines, and she ordered the Immortal SOuls forwards, into battle - the others she would deal with at leisure.
The armies clash again, and Valerian's lines seemed to buckle against the Immortal SOuls. He ordered the Air Cavalry in, to strike the rear of the foe's legions, and the battle swirled back and forth. AT about the eight hour, the Brazen Queen lost her right centre, as her forces from the more eastern allies dissipated. She ordered her reserves of Immortal SOuls in, to slaughter them, and the battle became chaotic. This was what he had prepared for. Valerian's gambit had paid off.
He coiuld never turn the Immortal SOuls. None could. They were broken men, her slaves forever, her lovers, her children. So he turned to her people themselves. As the SOuls renenwed their assault, the Noble SOnjs drove harde into their flanks, whilst other household units began to cut down those next to them, the ones who hadn't turned.
Valerian mounted his Spurhawk. Taking a thousand of his men, he drove straight at the Queen's massive chariot, and few stood in his way. The Immortal SOuls that barred his path were slaughtered where they stood, much as they were elsewhere in the utter confusion that reigned. Valerian cut down her commander, his men scattered her Brazen Guard, and finally the man that was Ulaya stood before her. SHe stood tall, and her Kinsai blade swept a path towards his head. He side-stepped the blow and grabbed her mask, twisted and pulled her to her knees. They struggled for a few more seconds, then he cut the bindings that held the mask on, and her face was revealed in the sunlight. The Brazen Queen was a strikingly beautiful girl; she was not human, but bore golden skin like that of the Selediri ELves, yet her features were mean; she looked as foul as the Selediri were fair, and she would never tell her tale to a soul, for, as he held the mask in numbed hands, she pulled her throat into the blade that Valerian had cut her mask straps with. In a dire sort of majesty, she toppled sideways to the bloodied grass, lifeless.
Telmior was done. Valerian was to spend mere weeks in negotiations, freeing all slaves, but executing those who turned on their previous masters. He stood as a King, and his judgemebnt was seen to be divine indeed, for he began to mend the society that was broken - a task that would take a hundred years to truly fulfil, but at least had it's beginnings here.
SO SORRY this is huge...it's a difficult tale to tell in few words, and it's not easy to edit the full version, so I kind of had to write it again, buit keep the size down, as it bangs on about all sorts of stuff, and the end bit the 'afterwards' went on for about 600 words!!
Hope you enjoy it...just Kai Losson and Ancillia to do now, and the east is done...at least you can guess what the Noble Sons are now though If it makes no sense to you, I'll rewrite it again, or just post the lot....I think it's best to try and truncate it a little and try to keep the flavour....hope I succeeded?
Ancillia is a strange province. The south is not considered to be overly fertile, but sustains a decent populace, where plains slowly become steppe and then end in a broken mountain range. Legends spoeak of this range moving, of it coming to life before the terrified eyes of travellers, only to settle again in a different position. SOme with the knowledge pos that it could one of the most ancient of Avatars; one so oldthat it has grown to be the 'small god' of an entire mountain range rather than a strea,, pool, or oasis. If true, then it is mighty indeed.
To the north of the mountains, the land becomes disastrous. A leaking volcano dribbles fire and poisons into a series of valleys, pooling around a large plateau that seems to cling to life, if barely. The plateau extends to the sea, and here Ancillia is visited by other horrors. From the coast one can see the many small isles that act as home to many Avatars, wild and abandoned, filled with sharp reefs and often clogged with strange predators that prevent the simple of fishing from brining succour to the land. In winter, the black ice comes from the north...it grows tall and shears from the polar caps, then gathers water to it as it jopurneys south, meeting the coast of ANcillia, driving up the beaches, to plough into deep grooves in the Plateau. Where the Black Ice meets the volcanic mass, strange things happen, and men have gone mad when exposed to the gases emitted. Many talk about the Black Ice as if it were haunted, or alive with malice, but that seems ridiculous to anyone sane.
ANcillia was enthralled to the Brazen Queen of Telmior from it's earliest days. Certainly in the south, her hold was strong, but in the north, her legions simply build one garrison town and sat there in fear. The culture of ANcillia was built of toughness, or survival, both even. The oldest tradition is Ancillia is that of the fighting pit. In the north, when communities or clans argued there was no war. They could not afford to lose their men in battle. Instead, they fought between champions and the winner was considered to justify his cause. These men slowly became more professional and were called 'Pit Dogs' by the Telmiori.
In the south, she conquered the lkand fully, and it was under her sway, growing and becoiming more decrepit and stagnant morally under her heavy hand. The battles for 'justice' ceased, and simply became games to wager on, blood to enjoy the shedding of and the crowds would escape their servitude and roar like lions at the death of their own people, especially when a northman was brought south in chains, or a warrior from the Sea of Grass was torn apart by wild beasts.
When Valerian crushed the Brazen Queen, the Ancillians revolted. It was no massive military action, but very sedate. They simplky stopped paying attention to the Brazen Queen and her officers and officials were slain in the pits, dragged there by the hungry-eyed crowds. It was after the fall of Telmior that their problems really began. Several leaders came forwards, and a council of sorts was formed. In the time that it took from the fall of Telmior, through the capture of Acaserena, they had begun to look outwards, the ambitions of fools gone mad with power.
In the north, the Telmior garrison was overrun and slaughtered, but little else changed at first. Then a leader came forward who changed much in the north. He was an old 'pit-dog', named the 'Mournweaver', on account of the amount of people he had slain. He had lost only once, but left enough blood and body-parts behind in that fight to be spared death by the victor, who had then fallen from a cliff when rescuing a stranded herd-beast.
Mournweaver maeched south, determined to have a voice in the future of Ancillia. AT this time, the COuncil saw fit to raise monies by hiring their pit-dogs out to neighbouring nations as bodyguards and, then to the Crown Prince of Dalthrasia in his attempt to replace his Queen as the ruler of that Queendom.
When Valerian foiled this attempt, he lost good men, and his ire turned north, to ANcillia. The province was poor, but he was fascinated by the legends of the northern side, and his fury would be sent against the South.
The Mournweaver gathered his men and marched to the westernmost town of Laseya, whereupon he was barred access at fiurst. This wild-looking man and his warriors were recognisably ANcillian, but their councillor was in the new capital, Lysillia and the ability to make choice upon need had been bred out of them by the Brazen Queen. WHen he demanded access and succour, they shot arrows at him and his men, wounding several, and he fell back in a black mood. Two days later, he and his men assaulted the walls and killed every man in the town that bore arms against them.
Word reached the capital quickly, and a force was dispatched to deal with him. This army outnumbered his by five to one, the best and the worst the fledgling state could offer. They marched swiftly on the town and invested it, swiflty building engines of war with which to shatter gates and walls. Their commander, Ederis did not like the option of facing Northmen on the walls. He knew what they lived through and their toughness and savagery.
Valerian fell on the fortified town of Kirine and swiftly took the walls, then were dumbfounded by the stone keep within the wooden shell. The keep had a wooden roof under which archers could shelte, and Valerian could not bring his Air Cavalry to bear, so he began to ready an assault on the walls, costly though it may be. The citizens of Kirine faced no brutality at Valerian's hands, but their leaders were hung in the market square, their crime of regicide read at length to the populace, who had known nothing of this.
ALmost simultaneously, the forces of Valerian attacked the keep and the Ancillian attacked the breaches they had created, but the forces of Mournweaver beat them back in 5 day-long assaults. The Keep of Kirine fell swiftly once the ATlaians and the Royal Guards of Dalthrasia stormed the walls, vengeance and indignation in their hearts, where the defenders has little of anything in theirs.
Valerian immediately set off east, and word reached him of the attack on Mournweaver. He paused momentarily, and led half of his force to the east. He fell in wrath on Mournweaver's enemies, and a brief battle was fought - in truth a slaughter. Barely two hundreds of Mournweaver's mean remained, but he met Valerian as an equal and was high in his esteem. Together, they turned west, to the captial, andf they arrived precisely as the host from the host did.
Swiftly, the captial, Lysillia, was invested. Every man defended the walls, and some of the best soldiers of Telmior had fled there after the Queen's death; this fight would not be an easy one. For three days, Valerian pounded the city, the deep coughing of war engines sending fire and death into the city, but he could breach the walls, and the inevitable assault began, with both towers and ladders brought up against the defences.
SIx assaults were made, and the war engines kept their fire upon the cioty between each assault, depriving the defenders of sleep, whilst his men rotated their numbers for each attack. On the seventh attack, Valerian himself led the most part, with WOundweaver at his side. The Pit Dogs were unstoppable, and the Atlaians that guarded their EMperor were equally driven, but of less skill in the brutal art of massacre.
Puching a hole in the defenders' lines, he secured the gates and his army poured through into the city. They fought running battles, and the city fell, piece by piece. ALl that surrendered were spared, and their wounded were tended to. The last stand was made in the market square, and their end was merciless and brutal. WOundweaver led this assault, and he cut down dozens of men by himself. At the end of the defence, nigh on all defenders were slain, and the nation of Ancillia capitulated. Ready for a second despotic ruler, they awaited their punishment and indenture into slavery, but they were mistaken.
Valerian gave them teo years without taxes, money and men to rebuild all damage,l and installed WOundweaver as their confused new governer. The fortunes of the province rose greatly, and the Imperial Guard Legions were trained in the harsh north. Those that survived were tougened, and the pit-dogs of WOundweaver were taken as the Emperor's new bodyguard; honour and respect were heaped heavily upon them, and they never failed this amazing man, fanatically loyal and devoted in their duties. WOund weaver eventually was given the title of Warden of the East and led his legions to the west, to fight at Saden Fields.
Last Imperial East province...just allied/integrated factions left...so Myr Addat, really
KAI-LOSSON PROVINCE, EAST EMPIRE
Kai Losson is not filled with a rich history. It is Province 'forced' into being by Valerian and circumstance. The Province has few settlements at all; it's filled with a rich, fertile soil, and holds great potential for development, if it could increase it's populace - as it is now, it is the breadbasket of the East, and the rolling hills contain rich deposits of both metals and precious gems. These remained utterly unexploited until the time of Valerian, and, even now, they are barely exhausted at all. Telmior, Dalthrasia, Acaserena all manage vast fields of crops and boast good resources, but incomparable to Kai Losson.
Valaerian moved to the province under advice from his ancient ones. He uprooted the remnants of Telmiori and deported most, killing those foolish enough to resist. As a man, he disliked slaughter, but sometimes it was necessary to prevent bloodshed ona greater scale and interrupt peace and harmony.
The majority of the tribes of Kai Losson ageed to parley, and he convinced them of his intent, the safety he could guarantee, and the degree of autonomy he nearly alwasy granted; enough to salve their identity and pride. The tribes lived far aprt from each, gathering rarely, but he suggested a different path.
He moved in the people he would need for growth. They established settlements, which were colonial in nature, peacefully so. Trade was established, mines, which tithed a good part of their productivity to the tribes. He respected the tribes' wishes, and strengthened the province vastly over the next decade.it would reach it's true potential for many more decades, but became vital, peaceful, and it's Horse Archers were integral to the strategy of the Eastern armies.
The first part is a brief history of the Bloodless (Haladin).
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The soft hiss of rain as it runs down the mottled glass of my room brings life back into sharp focus, a flicker of lightning cast the room and its contents in harsh cold light before the light of my one lamp resumes its mad dance as it nears the end of its life. I guess I should introduce myself; well I would if I had a name that could be remembered by me or anyone else. Call me slave and leave it at that, it will make things easier on all. I feel I will perish soon here deep within one of the great fortresses ruled by the Bloodless, but before I go I wish to tell you a tale or a history of the Haladin. This will be my last gift to anyone who will find it, by guttering lamp and poor penmanship I will scrawl all I have learned.
They, the Bloodless have always dwelt here within the Earthspine, shadowed vales and twisted valleys a pale faced people with great manes of blood red hair. Some might call them beautiful; I would now call them terrible to behold having witnessed the dark rights performed. Once they were squat of build and broad of shoulder, but could never be misconceived as the Khezdruli, but with the first years of mans existence the Lindiri came upon the Bloodless. The Lindiri sought to better the Bloodless, as they do love to meddle, for they saw the Haladin did suffer from hemophilia. With some success they did help the Haladin, but as always the changes they wrought upon the Bloodless had unexpected results.
A small number of the Bloodless grew in height and if possible they became even paler of skin, weak in the flesh, but strong in the mind they became the nobility of this race. From what I have read and found rotting in the deepest parts of this place as the wind moaned through long forgotten passages the first amongst the Bloodless were given visions in their rest, warned of the weakness of villages they built three monstrous fortresses. Perhaps I should point out to whoever chances upon this written word that chief among the Bloodless rule three clans, the Iudruul with the Sieldruul and Karathuul. With the strongholds built the visions proved to have whispered truth for the Empire began what was to be a prolonged and bloody war. As Spurhawks swarmed into the first valleys they swiftly took control of the shadow ridden vales, but with the speed of their conquests came high casualties.
As the Empire pushed deeper into the lands of the Haladin or as some would call them the Cimrai three clans fought back, the Kanaan, Kharst and Kaden. As the three clans tried to hold the Empire back, many stayed within their great fortresses, the massed garrisons forbidden to leave despite clan affiliations. What followed the initial assault by the Empire was a truly grim and bloody time for my masters. The Kanaan Clan and the Siedruul planned for the coming battles lead by the nobles who had proven to be sharp of mind but weak of flesh and unable to fight, this could have been the end for the Bloodless for many lost faith in their feeble commanders, but in the end the Kanaan managed to rally eight clans to the defense of a crucial vale. As a slow cool wind played with the proud banners of the Empire, twenty five thousand men massed and ready to unleash hell upon the Clans who stood upon the opposite side of the vale. Sixteen thousand Bloodless lead by Valerian for half the forces were Kanaan, stood ready to die for their twisted valleys and mist shrouded mountains.
From musty tome and by wane light of a single poorly made candle I was able to find reports of the following battle.
Four days of death, the cries of the Empire and Bloodless rode the wind a song of pain and anguish as they slew each other. Line after line of fortified positions fell, but the Kanaan held, a bloodied rock among a sea of war. The Empire had tried to defeat them with all their cunning and might and as a blood red sun set the Kanaan had proven they could equal the best the Empire could throw at them for they were the Kanaan, fearless in the extreme.
As the battled raged the Iudruul Clan sought to expand upon their knowledge of their arcane powers. The Kanaan fought with blade and shield, feeding the land with their own blood as the Iudruul stole their own people, each soul given to the use of Blood Magic. From what I can gather what happened next changed the Bloodless, for better or worse I can not judge for I am a simple slave and not very wise. Demonic spirits were touched upon and from this foul caress the Iudruul made them selves preternaturally strong. Armed with blades of power and some now with the means to fly, metal wings that remind me of the bats that plague some parts of this Fortress, they fell upon the Empire. The Spurhawks were rolled back, most returned to their beloved Sea of Grass. Wheeling they then turned upon the Empires flanks. With a surge the Kanaan saw an opportunity and pressed forward. A moment or hours and the Empire were in full retreat. Thousands upon thousands died in the coming rout, the fallen left to rot in the vales and misted mountains. So many dead, the moaning wind echoing with the cries of the dying even to this day.
Now the Clans play games with deadly powers, the Blood magic sings to them, whispers of more power to come, but I can see things my masters cannot. The shadows dance and darkness gathers, they dream of war and conquest, but risk utter dominance from the power they crave. A rift is soon to be opened; a gate way to the Cthonae, soon things will change, soon. The Iudruul play a dangerous game, they have tried to subject all, and failed for the Kanaan have resisted and now defend the Earthspine from any who threaten the Bloodless, but perhaps they should look within their boarders for dark powers gather and the Iudruul welcome it with open arms.
A flash of bright lightning and my poor candle ends its life as the room fades to darkness, not that it matters for I’m naught but a lowly slave who likes to tell tales
Here is a brief account of how Blood Magic was found and expanded upon.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Blood Magic - feared by most and understood by few. The Iudruul have long studied the dark art of Blood Magic and this can be witnessed by the thousands of bound objects that haunt their lofty towers deep with the Earthspine Mountains. The Nobles of the Bloodless have always been weak of flesh but strong of mind, but some knew that the strength of mind would never be enough to maintain their seats as a ruling clan among the others. The Iudruul have sort to study and learn all they can about the foul practices of Blood Magic and were the first to discover it, or as some histories suggest they stumbled upon like a lost child in the night.
With strength of mind the Iudruul gained yet more knowledge of the Blood, this was evidenced by a ‘psychic’ ability, enabling the Iudruul to access strange and disturbing dreams. What started as dark visions and whispered words in the dead of night, soon changed to waking meditations. Day and night the Iudruul witnessed visions of true terror, some going insane and plunging themselves from the windswept towers, cries of fear echoing from the shadowed vales as they fell to their deaths, but others welcomed the darkness of these visions.
Problems came when the Bloodless woke from these visions, the dreams and their contained knowledge were lost as red rimmed eyes were cracked open and sweat drenched bodies were dragged upright. The Iudruul turned to a psychic ability know as ‘Automatic Writing’ to combat this problem. As the Iudruul woke they would write manically any snatches of what could be remembered before they fully awoke. With knew knowledge gained, and being eager and perhaps foolish the Iudruul moved forward, caring not how this new power had come about only that it was theirs.
As the Iudruul chased the power that was Blood Magic, the Abyssal Powers continued to feed them dark visions, either to destroy the Bloodless or to give them power none had felt before. With careless abandon the Iudruul attempted dark rights again and again. With each failure a little knowledge was gained and as more victims were given to the ‘Blood’, but with each step toward understanding the dark powers more problems arose. The Iudruul did not know or really care that this pursuit of Blood Magic would led to future problems for them, namely with the Clans of the Kanaan, Khaast and Kaden. With eyes locked forward and dark dreams ruling the night the other Clan’s mutterings were lost in the wind.
Soon it was discovered that the blood taken from their sacrifices gave them something they had sort from the beginning, power. The willing or not were drained of their life the Iudruul gaining strength, the weaken flesh growing physically powerful as the victims lay next to them, pale eyes staring sightlessly as the now strengthened Nobles flexed magic fueled muscles.
With more blood filled research the Iudruul learnt that they could bind ‘Abyssal’ souls into objects. A rare metal, Malech, could be used and fashioned into weapons, armour and used to make the dread metal wings that beat with a life of their own. Amour was made into fearsome exoskeletons, giving great strength as weapons gave the wielder speed in their movements and ferocity in their attacks. The metal wings allowed the Iudruul to fly, but required much blood and many victims to make, something the Iudruul did not mind doing.
In the invasion by the Empire the use of Blood Magic turned the tide for the embattled Bloodless – For a more detailed account of this please the ‘Histories of the Bloodless’
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Last edited by Borissomeone; August 31, 2011 at 04:48 AM.
The first part is a brief history of the Bloodless (Haladin).
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The soft hiss of rain as it runs down the mottled glass of my room brings life back into sharp focus, a flicker of lightning cast the room and its contents in harsh cold light before the light of my one lamp resumes its mad dance as it nears the end of its life. I guess I should introduce myself; well I would if I had a name that could be remembered by me or anyone else. Call me slave and leave it at that, it will make things easier on all. I feel I will perish soon here deep within one of the great fortresses ruled by the Bloodless, but before I go I wish to tell you a tale or a history of the Haladin. This will be my last gift to anyone who will find it, by guttering lamp and poor penmanship I will scrawl all I have learned.
They, the Bloodless have always dwelt here within the Earthspine, shadowed vales and twisted valleys a pale faced people with great manes of blood red hair. Some might call them beautiful; I would now call them terrible to behold having witnessed the dark rights performed. Once they were squat of build and broad of shoulder, but could never be misconceived as the Khezdruli, but with the first years of mans existence the Lindiri came upon the Bloodless. The Lindiri sought to better the Bloodless, as they do love to meddle, for they saw the Haladin did suffer from hemophilia. With some success they did help the Haladin, but as always the changes they wrought upon the Bloodless had unexpected results.
A small number of the Bloodless grew in height and if possible they became even paler of skin, weak in the flesh, but strong in the mind they became the nobility of this race. From what I have read and found rotting in the deepest parts of this place as the wind moaned through long forgotten passages the first amongst the Bloodless were given visions in their rest, warned of the weakness of villages they built three monstrous fortresses. Perhaps I should point out to whoever chances upon this written word that chief among the Bloodless rule three clans, the Iudruul with the Sieldruul and Karathuul. With the strongholds built the visions proved to have whispered truth for the Empire began what was to be a prolonged and bloody war. As Spurhawks swarmed into the first valleys they swiftly took control of the shadow ridden vales, but with the speed of their conquests came high casualties.
As the Empire pushed deeper into the lands of the Haladin or as some would call them the Cimrai three clans fought back, the Kanaan, Kharst and Kaden. As the three clans tried to hold the Empire back, many stayed within their great fortresses, the massed garrisons forbidden to leave despite clan affiliations. What followed the initial assault by the Empire was a truly grim and bloody time for my masters. The Kanaan Clan and the Siedruul planned for the coming battles lead by the nobles who had proven to be sharp of mind but weak of flesh and unable to fight, this could have been the end for the Bloodless for many lost faith in their feeble commanders, but in the end the Kanaan managed to rally eight clans to the defense of a crucial vale. As a slow cool wind played with the proud banners of the Empire, twenty five thousand men massed and ready to unleash hell upon the Clans who stood upon the opposite side of the vale. Sixteen thousand Bloodless lead by Valerian for half the forces were Kanaan, stood ready to die for their twisted valleys and mist shrouded mountains.
From musty tome and by wane light of a single poorly made candle I was able to find reports of the following battle.
Four days of death, the cries of the Empire and Bloodless rode the wind a song of pain and anguish as they slew each other. Line after line of fortified positions fell, but the Kanaan held, a bloodied rock among a sea of war. The Empire had tried to defeat them with all their cunning and might and as a blood red sun set the Kanaan had proven they could equal the best the Empire could throw at them for they were the Kanaan, fearless in the extreme.
As the battled raged the Iudruul Clan sought to expand upon their knowledge of their arcane powers. The Kanaan fought with blade and shield, feeding the land with their own blood as the Iudruul stole their own people, each soul given to the use of Blood Magic. From what I can gather what happened next changed the Bloodless, for better or worse I can not judge for I am a simple slave and not very wise. Demonic spirits were touched upon and from this foul caress the Iudruul made them selves preternaturally strong. Armed with blades of power and some now with the means to fly, metal wings that remind me of the bats that plague some parts of this Fortress, they fell upon the Empire. The Spurhawks were rolled back, most returned to their beloved Sea of Grass. Wheeling they then turned upon the Empires flanks. With a surge the Kanaan saw an opportunity and pressed forward. A moment or hours and the Empire were in full retreat. Thousands upon thousands died in the coming rout, the fallen left to rot in the vales and misted mountains. So many dead, the moaning wind echoing with the cries of the dying even to this day.
Now the Clans play games with deadly powers, the Blood magic sings to them, whispers of more power to come, but I can see things my masters cannot. The shadows dance and darkness gathers, they dream of war and conquest, but risk utter dominance from the power they crave. A rift is soon to be opened; a gate way to the Cthonae, soon things will change, soon. The Iudruul play a dangerous game, they have tried to subject all, and failed for the Kanaan have resisted and now defend the Earthspine from any who threaten the Bloodless, but perhaps they should look within their boarders for dark powers gather and the Iudruul welcome it with open arms.
A flash of bright lightning and my poor candle ends its life as the room fades to darkness, not that it matters for I’m naught but a lowly slave who likes to tell tales
Coming soon - Blood Magic .
Yep! Lovely as I've said before many times
I'm reading the Blood Magic piece, so, once I have done, can you post it here and the forum?
Beregond - if you're reading this, PLEASE publish Ilien's full texts.
Very very cool! I hope it makes people more interested in the Haladin. They're a very complicated faction. Huene is modelling them from now on too, so we should see some AWESOME stuff from him, judging by what I've seen so far.
EDIT: MAJOR upload of Lore coming up. I hope you don't give up on life once you see it!
LOST BOOK OF THE PROPHET THANDALIR
An obscure text, written by the 'Mad Prophet', as he became known
LOST BOOK OF THE PROPHET THANDILIR
‘…it has been long since I dreamt my own dreams. It seems an age since my mind was it’s own of itself and equally as long since I had the company of my kind. My existence is hermetic and few will talk to one whose mouth has spasms of something else’s making, or one whose drool mixes with the dust, one whose tongue has no mind to guide it.
I dream the dreams of The Dragon, the dreams that show it’s birth from the death spasms of it’s mother’s sun, the dying burst of a sun in distant time, speeding the young into the vastness above the clouds, above the shell of our skies.
DO I know it’s truth? I believe what I see, although I cannot fathom it’s incredible insanity. The flight of the Dragon, to it’s far destination, to set up amongst it’s kind, and sleep in the sun of another dying mother. For all of them, their kind are female, or maybe they have both sexes, androgynous…yes, that’s it, I think that they have both sexes, but how they mate is beyond my master’s memory.
It flew to another warming sun, to lay in hibernation, a cocoon about it, the skies we see every waking day. Until it too succumbed, became a sun, to spray it brood across the insanity of the blackness, to take up the sleep of procreation, never ending., majestic yet …’
*
‘The body in the void that we live on, yes, what I call the Earth Dragon, is a living thing, maybe, I hazard, a body with a soul like us – that is another tale. Where was I? Oh yes, the Dragon.
When it reached it’s destination, ‘though how it knew? Yes, when it found it’s place in things, it curled up and went into torpor, the deepest sleep imaginable, near death perhaps.
Then the cocoon formed; our sky, with it’s colours and hues, and the birth of tiny, diminutive….what? I call them fleas, yes fleas on the Dragon grew, and first among them were the elves, symbiotes, things that existed within, giving back something for what they took, in harmony perhaps, but that may be too strong a word, for what we say cannot matter…
Elves were born. Selidiri for the Sun, Ildiri for the Moon, that thing that hangs there in the sky, for what purpose I do not know. Celesti, the Celestials, for the stars that bore the Dragon, and the last, the Lindiri, for the earth. They alone understood what we sat upon.
They told me long ago that the Dragon, or just The Earth as they knew it, was the body upon which we lived. I know now, the land was it’s body, the water it’s tears and fluids, the mountains scales, it’s bones the metals underneath, and it’s blood that raging fire we call lava, which burst from where the scales cut too deep. In it’s sleep we fear it’s movements, for the earthquakes that level nations are it’s trembles during dreams, and the things that we know as Avatars are born of those dreams.
Each Elf knew it’s task. Then came the Khezdruli….the ones we call Dwarves. They came out of the wounds which bled fire, born of infection, unknowing of their ignorance. They worked into the Dragon’s body, tore it’s bones and created many wonders, yet bled the life from their accursed mining. Then they discovered the Ley.
Ah. The Ley. What to say of that? The arguments I have heard! Still I smile at their total lack of vision. Of course, the Ley is the impulse of the Dragon’s mind, the channels by which it commands it’s incredible structure. They are the passage of it’s mind through it’s body. The Dwarves took it. Made those Gnomes…dire things that leech the life from the Dragon. Yes, we, the Diri, use it, but we give it back, we give it in other ways, or simply return it, but the Dwarves, they spend it without thrift…they kill the land they dig, and we warred with them over it.
Thousands pressed into their strongholds, but to no avail. How do we kill every Dwarf? How to commit such genocide. We couldn’t. We wouldn’t. Isn’t all life sacred? And maybe they have a place in things? It is not ours to know.
Then the parasites came. Those Humans… what foulness they brought upon us. They raped the land, burnt the trees, ravished the waters of it’s life. What do they give back? Spite and petty hatred. Perhaps we could have done something, but they were too many, and we are not of the Naugiri, the Orcs, the other symbiotes, but predators. If we had unleashed them…
What, may you wonder, happened to the gangrene the Khezdruli brought after their delving? Well, that will be forgotten, but now, now we see wars that destroy us, wars to push what came from the rot…
And the Saurines? They heal the lost, the infected, their herbs and their bite, they heal what we do, like a force fighting infection, they rage against what comes, and they stem the tide with their dead.
SO what knowledge have I given? None. Just the ramblings of some mad old dirge. Will what I have said matter? Probably not, yet I have hope, and, before I descend into complete decay, I have need…need to write, to purge my mind of the horrors I see every time I close my eyes. And, sometimes, now with waking thought.
Last edited by Squeaks; August 31, 2011 at 09:49 AM.
The Elves came with the Dawn, Twilight and Night of one day, each awaking under their own Influence – the Silidiri under the Sun, Lindiri the Twilight, a time of no direct heavenly influence, and the Ildiri and Celesti under the Moon and Stars.
The first Moon brought the Ilidir to life, moon rays shone on the dark, and elves grew there like flowers. They brought peace and compassion with them, and they found the waters around full of joy, and sank beneath the waves.
The Stars that same night brought forth Celediri, the Star Elves, who had such a tragic history. They were the thinkers, the prophets, the imagination behind the Elves, and were the ones who devised true speech. Intelligent and fair, they were fascinated by all around them, but the light behind their eyes frightened many animals, which caused them sadness.
Lindiri stepped from trees and brush, and the animals flocked to them as pup to mother. They learnt the beasts’ tongue before their ‘own’. They played in the forests and had little to do with the other elves, as the Celesti could argue them into knots, and they were more interested in fun than in any true knowledge
Silidiri Elves, the Sun Dragons, were the last, and they were birthed amongst the sands, awakening to the forked tongues of fascinated lizards. The Silidiri were lazy, and spent time sunning themselves on rocks.
But the Celesti brought them together, in a fashion. They spread the word of the land above the waters to the young Ildiri, taught speech to the Lindiri and forced the Silidiri to gather to schools of the Celesti teachers.
Many of the Ildiri left the waters, whilst the remainder sank into legend, and the histories moved on.
Khezdruli, Dwarvenkind, were the next to awake. The Fathers, twelve of the first Celesti, had a vision of an infection in the Dragon’s body, and infection that needed lancing. The Fathers dug for them, for they knew they were there and sought their destruction. Tunneling through rock, the Fathers found them, but could not destroy them, and decided to try to educate them away from their path towards the horrors in their visions.
SO they taught, and the Dwarves learnt much, but turned towards crafts the Fathers had not wanted them to turn to. The broke the Dragon’s body, and build fires that the Silidiri had taught, melted metals and crafted things of beauty, but to the elves, these things were things of horror.
The Fathers kept educating, leading them away from their avarice, but they kept returning, and the Fathers left. They knew they had wrought great sadness, and left the Khezdruli to the terrors of their visions.
The Khezdruli wars were a brutal affair. The Fathers had departed, and the Ildiri convinced the other elves to destroy the Khezdruli, for their toil was abhorrent, and the elves could not bear to see it. The Ildiri marched to war, and dwarves were slaughtered by the pulsing of Leysers. The other Elves came to war late, and, by this time, the Khezdruli had begun to fight back, using rocks, nails, teeth and natural strength. The losses this early in the war would never be recovered.
The War took it’s hold, and Dwarves died in their tens of thousands. But, behind the front lines, they were preparing a new technology – that of weaponry, using the bones of the Dragon (metals) to create shards of sharpness to destroy the life in other beings.
The odds evened out, and in their tunnels, the dwarves slew many elves, and it looked as though mutual slaughter was to be the end in sight. However, a Dwarf came forward who had listened to the elf proclamation – that rape of the Dragon’s body was not permitted. He came to the Elves and told them of the Hunger, and an agreement was struck that limited the Dwarves’ plunder. Still the two sides lacked any understanding, but the elves could no longer justify such a brutal genocide.
A short time into the war’s end, maybe days, maybe weeks, THEY appeared, thousands, flowing from the broken holds of the Khezdruli. Infected, they called them, thousands of them, writhing, slime covered bodies, rotting with the deadpool, biting, gnawing, they flooded the camped armies, and another time of slaughter began.
Bodies in a state of undeath, but yet not truly alive. Magic had little effect, and the Ley weapons of the Elves would do little but burn and scorch, save the fires of the Sun Dragons, the Silidiri, which threw them back. Azghali led his guard against them, siding with the Elves, but many Dwarves holed themselves up and sealed their cities. Sadly for them, the Infected came from within the Dwarf Holds, and they were eaten alive.
The armies of Azghali and the elves managed, through torrid slaughter, to seal the holds the Infected were coming from, and trap them within, the Ildiri redirecting the waters from the mountains to fill the holds. The names and whereabouts of these holds were struck off the records of History and still remain gone, lost to time and the Infected.
The Elves withdrew from contact with the Dwarves, and the Celesti repaired and re-located the Ley as much as they could, restoring life to tired areas, and using the other elves to repopulate areas with wildlife and vegetation. Dozens of years of fighting had scarred the Dragon.
*
The birth of humanity was a quiet affair, with their appearance slow as animals were given birth by machinations of the Lindiri. The Celesti and they had created new life and bred magic with matter. Animals had been treated with raw Ley and they had hastened the birth of Humanity. The Dragon’s biggest parasite.
The humans woke to find the elves as their guardians, all but the Celesti. They had made the greatest mistake with the Khezdruli, and sought to rectify this. They refused their knowledge to the humans, whilst the other elves wanted the chance to bring up this new child of the Earth Dragon.
There were arguments. The Celesti wanted to destroy what magic had wrought, but the others would not allow it. A blow was struck by a Lindiri, who cut another elf with purpose. The Celesti stood stunned. They gathered all things and left that day, under the sun’s rays of Dawn. Where they went was not recorded, and they were never seen again. It was said that the stars never shone as bright again.
The Humans rose to power like a flame, and they ate the knowledge the elves gave them. With it, they built cities, and Empire, and Valerien took the world by storm, his Dragonthrone Empire like a phoenix undying. He met the Lindiri’s beasts, and found the Avatars calling themselves Dragons, and befriended them all. Sparhawks took his people to the skies, and the Dragons taught his scholars of Ley.
The Empire rose under Valerien, but was to suffer the brunt of the next great disaster…the coming of the Ghaur. The Ghaurchlai invaded the Empire from the very land itself, and fully a third of the world’s populace were dead in a very short time.
Death followed. For so many, death was all they knew, but the Ghaur reserved malice for the elves and Humans, until the Dwarves armed them for money and goods, then the Ghaur fell on the Dwarves, and they joined the fray.
**SECTION REMOVED FOR NOW**
*
The Chaining of the Ghaur occurred two years after their entrapment in the huge pits around Saden. The pits at Saden were not of natural origin, and were filled with water by the Ildiri. Talk centred on the fact that water seemed to weaken them, as Ildiri Avatars had attested. The plan was to trap them under water, and the humans attested to the caverns in the south island chain being of an ideal nature.
The Ghaur were taken to these islands and kept in water for the distance. Placed carefully in the caverns, they were filled with water, which froze over them, creating the polar ice cap seen by modern descendents.
For a thousand years they have lain there, and no means exists for them to leave. But fresh problemns were to arise. Over the next thousand years, the Empire would decline, the Ashapur would break away, the Federation would be born, and there would be a chain of weakening until the modern day, with the new Rebellion of the Sun King.
These are on Ashapur; they may not be the ultra current versions. I WILL be editing these and other stuff I post today. Most are fine, some may contain a wayward line or something like that.
HISTORY OF ASHAPUR
Settle, children – we’re in an oasis now. There’s nothing to fear here. No great man is here to make demands, no law beyond the law of your own moral code, and no thirst to dry your mouth with sand. You’re amongst the finest of men, the Keir Hedrin, swallows of the desert, our honour as merciless as the sandstorm, but as gentle as the soft sand under the waters of this little paradise.
Hear the tale of Ashapur, the land of the Silken Knot, land of slaves and masters, yet a land of honour and love. The most complex and, at times, merciless land in the known world, reminiscent of the shifting sands that make up all lands away from the coast.
Ruled from a city of a million souls, Ashapur came from a slavery of its’ own. Yes, once we were but slaves of the Empire. We were warring clans, disunited, easily conquered by the rising star Valerien, and we fell as ripe grain to his first legions. During the Ghaur war, our people were slaughtered in their beds, for he took the cream of our menfolk to defend His Empire, not US!
In the time of the Ghaur we formed a society in secret, and waited for the war to end.
End it did, although much of our nation lay dead at Saden Fields. The Ghaur were broken and entombed, and our men returned. We trained in secret, armed secretly and traded for favours with other dissidents. Many mercenaries came to settle and we hid their hire behind this lie.
In the Dark, we unified clans, and the first Pavashars plotted murder. By the time we were ready, several betrayers had aleady joined the waters with theirs, and our plot was safe.
Then the strangest thing happened. The merchants bought a part of the Empire, and the Federation, now our closest ally, was formed. In jmany ways, they are like us, in other ways, I would spit on their stupid rules and Laws.
We waited ten more years, then, almost overnight, struck!
Garrisons were overrun, nobles assassinated and communications destroyed. All priests of the Only were flayed and Tsibi walked the night free. For a small loss, we seemed to achieved what years of planning had prepared for. We simply had to organise and prepare for the backlash. It didn’t come.
The boy emperor was dead. Died through poison, and we were blamed. They timed it to coincide with our rebellion, a day before the news reached great Kadasandra, the boy lay in death, and we were blamed!
It was later that the expected fight occurred. The citizens replaced the boy with a man, and he, Lorellas Vivain, was a warrior. Born to it, he led a massive army to destroy our new-found life, and we awaited the hammer blow. The numberless, Dog Soldiers and others were drafted. More mercenaries were hired, and we fielded an army equal to his in the East.
Then came the priests. They came to the Pavishars and whispered poison in their ears. Tsibi cried as she heard from her ears in the temples. For, out of the desert, the Avatars of the Serpent came, and many of the temple fighters from unknown places. For years they had lain in wait, and at last revealed themselves, these Sons of Sythys.
Our army now outnumbered the Imperial forces, but we were plagued by raw recruits, and the spectre of defeat hung over us.
The Imperials entered the eastern border, then marched directly on The City of Silk, and we barred the way. Our armies drew up facing each other, and bloodshed was certain.
The next day, we fought for the right to determine our own fate. The screams of the dying echoed in the still air, and many died on each side, but we had the serpents, and their fanatics wrought a dance of slaughter. The Imperial Guard were struck by the newly formed Hadakim regiment, and the battle was profound. Eventually the Imperial flank collapsed, and the Hadakim slew the Emperor. Beaten, the Imperials withdrew – to their credit, there was no rout, they simply left the field, and we let them, our numbers one fifth of those who started the day.
Over the next decades, our culture grew, and we built many wonders, but the snakes began to infiltrate our people, and became powerful. A new High Pavishar was brought into leadership, and proved an inspired choice. He, Sulamna, countered the priests, and built a massive temple to Tsibi, goddess of death, to counter their influence.
The battle had left Ashapur with reduced manpower, and the snakes suggested a course of action which had been in place centuries before. We needed people to work what infrastructure we had, and the only way was to revert to the old ways: slavery was re-introduced, and the Hawk Masks, slavers, were reformed to achieve this end.
With a new and growing base, we began the climb to our modern state, and the country began to rise in power.
The Federation also climbed the rungs of power, and they launched an invasion from West to East. We stayed neutral, and watched as their ‘emancipation’ forces landed. The Empire advanced to fight, but the Federation had devised cunning tactics, and the Wolf-born in the south began a war of loot and plunder. To our northern borders, that bandits united under the ‘Beggar King’, and the Imperials fought on three fronts. They also fielded an army to watch us, but we were little threat, although the snakes pushed for war.
The Imperials fought hard, but had to split their forces. One army engaged the Federation, and made little headway, whilst other forces pushed the Wolf-Born out, and the bandits were forced into the mountains. By this time, however, the Federation had a strangle-hold on the south, and the Emperor was forced to sue for peace, for the Empire was exhausted from constant struggle.
The High Pavishar, Akkabar, was to be our greatest leader, and took our people to greatness. The culture sank into intrigue and politics became enmeshed with the snakes. This made the game of the court deadly, and the nobles spent much of their time and interest in this game.
Our slaving took us into lands of disunited clans, and we enslaved many, but the deadliest, the Myr Addat fought off every incursion, and finally added their nation to the Empire’s shortened list of allies. They and the thirteenth legion became a thorn in our plans, and we still fight them now, with constant skirmishes and much bloodshed. For no apparent reason, the Empire took a dim view on slavery.
Ashapur now sits on it’s Zenith, and we have made pacts with the Bandits crushed by the Empire, and to the pirates of Hanghaven, to the west, who supply many of our desperate need for slaves. We even have dwarves working our forges.
The Silken Knot…yes, that what the cityfolk call it….a society so devious and complex that it appears twisted to those who try to understand. To unravel it, you need a thousand years in cultural evolution, and a mind fit for intrigue beyond that of any Imperial Court.
ASHAPUR BREAKDOWN
nown as this society, the arid lands of Ashapur drift through deserts, to arid grasslands, to vibrant oases, mountains to the north, and coastlines that are awash with life and fertility.
The High Pavashar heads the society, his place confirmed by family, although ruling families have been overthrown before now. Under him come the Pavashars, noble lords who often dwell wirthin the cities, with a manse elsewhere, in their particular ward of holding; some less desirable than others.
Under them are the Parsavii, the 'knights' of the realm if compared to a western culture. These owe fealty to a specific Pavashar, given land by his suffereance, with the duty of tithes and soldiers in times of war.
The actual name 'the SIlken Knot' refers to both the subtle 'silken' way of politics - hidden behind a noble manner and beariing, and owes no small part to the silken knot...the favoured weapon of the assassins, the STranglers, that are used often and in obsfucation. SHould an assassin be discovered or fail, he would simply will himself to die, and would send his soul to the Farstream through sheer force of will. It is a proud discipline they learn, and they exhibit an amazing ability to serve in the night, second only to the mantis assassins in the islands of CHo Tetsu.
The society revolves deeply around religion as well. Entrenched solidly in opposition are the cults of Tsibi, Lady of Death, and Sythys, the Snake Cult. Tsibi is a gentle lady, that entombs the dying in her womb, taking their last breaths gently, softly, her nets cast far and wide throughout the kingdoms of the Dragon. The cult is seen with favour by many of the old families, but many of the young favour the Sythys CUlt, a relatively new religion to come out into the open, now hopelessly entangled in both the society and military of Ahsapur. Nowhere else are the Snake Lords worshipped, whereas Tsibi is an old religion, born with the dragon itself.
The Sythys CUlt have many temples, are widely worshipped by the young, as initiates, but the Prietshood are veiled and rumoured to contain members of all great Houses in Ashapur. They commit their Temple Armies to the forefront of recent wars, seeminglky heedless of what way this takes the future of the nation. Rumours abound as to the fate of the previous High Pavishar; many link his death as too young, and connect it to the Cult of Sythys directly. Certainly, he forbade them the power to raise abny form of military, which they ignored, and he spoke against the consecration of the high Temple in the main promenade of the City of Silk. His death occured over thirty years ago, and the cult has ignored anyone who tries to contain them. The Stranglers have forbidden the use of their assassins to any who worship Sythys, so it seems that they also have their own assassin Sect.
Thus the culture wrestles between old and new...honour and deceit. The favour of the mighty are beseeched every day, and the Tsibites have been rumoured to have been striking daily at the Sythys Cult. Certainly they preach less in the open, but politically they are a far more powerful force; their military numbers in the thousands, and their influence with the young makes them a massively unbalancing factor in the future of the Pavishate.
As I expected, I loved reading of the fall of Ancillia, I really liked the thought of Mournweaver and Valerian fighting together. I'm really looking forward to reading more of Prophet Thandalir's writing, that was amazing work. Ashapur is a pretty interesting faction, especially with the competing Cults. I also have to say that the Khezdruli are extremely fascinating and very original. I hope some more lore on Rysthari can be released, yet at the same time I love seeing only little tid-bits of info on them. Everytime I see their name I feel I'm slowly piercing their story together. And once again.... All Hail Dragonborn!!
Favorite Mods
Thera, Call of Warhammer, Eras Total Conquest, Broken Crescent, Third Age Total War.
As I expected, I loved reading of the fall of Ancillia,
AH, good. It's very different to the others, isn't it?
I really liked the thought of Mournweaver and Valerian fighting together.
Mournweaver is in the Ghaurchlai campaign, as is Valerian, of course.
I'm really looking forward to reading more of Prophet Thandalir's writing, that was amazing work.
Oh, THAT I didn't expect...but, yes, I will be putting a few bits by him up for the reading.
Ashapur is a pretty interesting faction, especially with the competing Cults.
Cool. Their units WILL be quite cool, and very varied. They have a Hydra (Serpent of the God Tree - Sythys Cult), and a few other nasty surprises. Uhm, Daijinn warriors, who are sandstorm avatars, MAYBE we'll do the sorcerors oin flying carpets, who knows? They're dobale for sure.
I also have to say that the Khezdruli are extremely fascinating and very original. I hope some more lore on Rysthari can be released, yet at the same time I love seeing only little tid-bits of info on them. Everytime I see their name I feel I'm slowly piercing their story together. And once again.... All Hail Dragonborn!!
Dwarves are a hard faction to get working really...they'll be a hell of a challenge. Their Gnomes are excellent, but difficult to get in...some we have no chance of doing, so we won't, but the best ones should be doable, so they won't lack fun and interest.
Sure. The Rhysthari stuff WILL be released slowly, as they're important, plus they hold MANY secrets in their Sunken Cities...all sorts going on there.
Thanks for the lore...it really adds nice depth. I also love the map!
ForRohan!
Good stuff! We're doing our job then
Uhm, I haven't been very active in the last day or so sadly. Tonight should partially remedy that. We've been working on the mod and chatting shop a lot, so that's a good thing.
I believe this is the last thing for the Eastern EMpire - the rest comes under Ashapur/Federation etc etc, even thopugh it includes reference to Imperial history. Then two more units and the East is 100% - then onto west. Tonight I plan on getting the Myr Addat (East EMpire) written up and the Province of Valadir in the west sewn up too.
THE MYR ADDAT - East Empire
The people of Myr Addat, the Adati, are a very insular people. They are not numerous, they live in a meritocratic society and only the chieftain is 'blood-born', or given his position through right of ancestry. He has always had the right to abdicate and name successors from outside his family however, and some have.
Their people live a dualistic life. Deep within the deserts of their land, there is a secret dwelling place, a secret city of the Myr Addat - the Hive City, many have called it. It's true name is Kedrawn, and it is a massively complex city, walled and fortified, surrounding a massive sandstone peak that splits the city clean in half, with many hundreds of tunnels running through it. Tunnels run everywhere, hence the nomer of the Hive City. It is vast, ancient and most certainly not built by mere men.
To find the entryway is a task in itself, as it is both naturally and artificiually concealed. Some have mentioned a waterfall of sand being the veil that hides it, and others mention bizarre carvings in a tunnel dug by no natural hands. WHatever the reality, the slavers of Ashapur have never found it, but this has always been assissted by the fact that the Myr Addat do not hide behind walls...every step into their lands is heavily contested and they are true masters of hit and run fighting.
They breed the Dune-Hoppers - a strange creature indeed, with a rabbit-like head and ears but a body built to move across sand at great speed. This again has served them well - where other nations use camels, they move at blistering speeds and the Dune-Hoppers are adept at finding natural water, using their feeding tubes to taste the residue of water some distance below the shifting sands.
The Adati people are an enigma. They alone possess the metal Malech in their blood. Some believe this to be an experiment of the the Selediri and Lindiri from thousands of years past, but contact with these cultures has long since been lost. They have surgically managed this metal, and by pulling on a system of tubes and needles, they can leak it in a flood, the metal coating the body in seconds in a metal that can withstand massive punishment, yet remains flexible enough to move with great celerity.
The past histories are recorded in the Hive City, and much of this deals with the constant war with Ashapur. In the entuire world there has never beenj a more bitter struggle. The dead are said to be numberless, and many feel that this war is the sole reason that the EMpire survives in the East. The Ahsapuri military is large, diverse and very highly trained. Most scholars postulate that the Ashapuri could have easily conquered the east in the years since Valerian's death; 1532 years in which to destory an EMpire at times in complete disarray.
Valerian was not the one to note the Myr addat's importance. It was Woundweaver, the general from Ancillia that discovered the Myr Addat and began to gain their trust, which blossomed into something more.
WHen Valerian had taken Ancillia, he turned his eyes West. Had Ashapur come to the aid of the Brazen Queen, he may have felt differently, but he had always maintained that he was drawn West.He had no fleet to speak of, and the Ashapuri were already known as mariners due to their slavery, so he dare not mount a sea based move west.
As Valerian began to travel along the thin bridge of land that connected the two continents, Mournweaver was sent south to maintain the borders, and to judge the threat from Ahapur, scout unklnown lands in the deeper places; Mournweaver was the First Warden of the East in all but name by now.
Mournweaver was fresh from victory, filled with passionate hatred of slavery, and he had been given reports that Aktakash and Saladir had been worried by the posturin of Ashapur, especially as the majority of survivors from Telmior had by now found sanctuary within the Pavishate, and were agitating for war.
As plans for a defence were laid, it became apparent that there was a triangle of territory that Ashapur had never raided from, nor had this lkand been mapped in any detail, and the legends of Saladir and Atakash spoke of a cursed place, barren, true desert, with no worth and no oases. Mournweaver was a man filled with natural curiosity and he valued information as vital to understanding a war, just as it had been in the pits - to know as much about your foe as possible was a must for survival.
He gathered a hundred Legion Lancers and moved into the lands of the myr Addat at a slow pace, outriders fanning widely, topping dunes to gain the best vision. They rode for two days before the first sandstorm tore into them. It lasted three days, and many died, torn apart by the cutting swirls of sand, - other were lost, and some ran. ATthe end of the three days, he commanded only 67 men.
Advancing further, his outriders returned at speed an hour into the sun's rising. They reported signs of battle, and a force of Ashapuri 'Blue Masks' had been seen with captured victims, whilst another scout reported that a small band of warriors in black was holding a high dune against thrice their number. A swift counsel was had, and the best option appeared to be breaking the attack on thye black garbed warriors. WOundweaver dismissed this. The warriors could still fight, whilst the captives had lost everything.
Wordlessly, they pursued the Blue Masks, catching them less than a mile away. Between forty slavers, they held perhaps sixty captives, who were currently being beaten and driven like cattle. AT least one body lay in the visible train of their passing. Mournweaver led the assault. In minutes, the Blue Masks were either dead or fleeing. Ten Lancers were in pursuit.
Mournweaver studied his new captives. They bore neither weapons nor armour, and theyir clothes were mere scraps. He gave them the horses that the slavers had ridden and those of the men he had just lost and attached a scout to them to lead them to friendly borders. Saluting as a free man, an unmistankeable gesture, he rode at speed noth, to attack the slavers that were assaulting the other warriors in black.
He counted sixteen men. on the dune's tip. Arrayed around them were nigh on a hundred. Even with his men in the fight, it wasn't looking good. However, he was a man of unusual quality, a man who didn not quail at the thought of death and marked freedom of will above all other things. He despised these slavers, and he would rather die than see this valiant few dead at their hands, or enslaved.
Without hesitation, he simply charged. They fell upon the slavers without warning, and cut several down before anyone knew of the attack. THese were warriors though, who slaved, fought, and won or died daily. Their response was swift, and battle was joined, with Woundweaver's men sorely pressed. The warriors from the dune reached the fray and they cut down many odf the foe, covered in heavy black armour, wielding two black bladed scimatars; yet still they saw the jaws of death slowly closing.
They fought until barely a dozen of his men yet lived, and formed a circle, where they prepared, as one, as brothers, to stand and die. The slavers withdrew and began to bring out bows to finish them, and were struck hard as a large body of cavalry careered into their ranks. No skill with horse was evident, yet the slavers panciked and broke, pursued by a number of men, one of whom carried the flag of a legion scout - the slaves he had freed had come to his aid, armed and armoured heavily in black metal. The SLavers were either slaughtered; no quarter was asked or given, or they were scattered, but Mournweaver was assured they would ALL die, with a humourless grin.
Mournweaver had discovered the Myr Addat.
MORE LATER
Last edited by Squeaks; September 07, 2011 at 12:57 AM.
Another good read, I love how the freed slaves came out of no where like that. I do have two questions though. One is what is the Ancillian general's name, is it Mournweaver or Woundweaver? Whatever his name is, I love that guy. The other is how long after the Ghaurchlai wars does the grand campaign begin?
Favorite Mods
Thera, Call of Warhammer, Eras Total Conquest, Broken Crescent, Third Age Total War.
i printed the lore up and read it at school when im bored XD
AH. Uhm, suddenly I feel less of a role model than I should perhaps be
Originally Posted by Clansman117
Another good read, I love how the freed slaves came out of no where like that. I do have two questions though. One is what is the Ancillian general's name, is it Mournweaver or Woundweaver? Whatever his name is, I love that guy. The other is how long after the Ghaurchlai wars does the grand campaign begin?
Heh....I obviously have 2 goldfish in my head when there should onl;y be one....maybe they made me think there was a mirror all this time...secretly, there were two goldfish, suspiciously similar, but with their features those of asymmetrical twins.....mmmm. I shall investigate - god knows why I called him WOundweaver. Ask the goldfish, they might remember. It's Mournweaver. Nuts. Grrr. Bad Goldfish!
Uhm. The Grand Campaign will be approximately 1500 years after the Ghaurchlai stuff is over. I'll explain the Ghaurchlai wars at some point. Quite fancy doing it now, but then it would take hours, so I won't. I will explain something though...how the Ghaurchlai happen to be in the Grand Camapign at all after their defeat. It's not that they magically needed an excuse to come back, but sheer human stupidity.
Oh, go on then, I start writing, see where it takes me...some of this is already done in docs, but nuts, I'm in a grumpy mood, so may as well exercise the fingers and moan aloud constantly at the whole world. Actually, if anyone can hear me, then I will probably get held under section 3 of the Mental Health Act, as I'm probably not sounding overly normal. In a grump, have forgotten to eat my food, me baby's been awake from 5.30 am - about twenty minutes ago, I missed dedward at the forum. My partner's mother has been here half the day (seriously....that's REALLY not good) and a friend came over when I was in the middle of the only good bit of the day when I made the EMperor's Warflame and stopped me doiung that. Didn't even bring me a yum-yum, star bar or nuffin'. I had to play some god-awful game on the PS3 and listen to his woes about women and suchlike. Luckily, I can actually partially die inside and still survive the experience, but this normally leaves me tired....this time I succeeded to die quietly inside and thus survived the woman-woe-thing, AND I just let him march around the game, with me drooling at the mouth corner whilst saying the same thing over and over in my head whilst following him in game by effort of fingers almost ridden with rigour-mortis.
Hmm.
THE PRISON OF ICE
Now this seems to be doing it the wrong way around, but there IS a reason for it being done this way - I don't want to explain the events of the Ghaurchlai War, but to explain HOW they come to be in the Campaign 1532 years later).
aw nuts, bed time..will pursue this tomorrow morning
sorry
GENERAL LORE THREAD
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Originally Posted by Anhelo
If it makes no sense to you, I'll rewrite it again, or just post the lot....I think it's best to try and truncate it a little and try to keep the flavour....hope I succeeded?
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I hope some more lore on Rysthari can be released, yet at the same time I love seeing only little tid-bits of info on them. Everytime I see their name I feel I'm slowly piercing their story together. And once again.... All Hail Dragonborn!! 
