- Joined
- Dec 21, 2009
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- 77
This is the lore behind a map i have in the works.
Thousands of years ago, the omipotent Titans came to Rillia. There, they created three races to keep order in the world; The Naga, who were created to submit the seas to the titan laws, the Dwarves, to keep the vile monstrosities that dwell under the earth in check, and the Elves, to protect the wildlife of the land. Together, these three races thrived, united to keep the balance. And yet over time memory faded, and generation after generation began to war against the other races. The elven kingdom grew beyond it's limits and incurred the anger of the naga. The two races fought in a savage war which seemed to have no end.
Yet eventually the Elves, who controlled the battlefield by numbers and magic, defeated the Naga and banished them from their lairs, cursing the amphibians to being forever trapped within the southern swamps. The war ravaged the elven kingdom, however, and it wasn't long before a civil war split the massive empire into three seperate nations and, eventually, races.
The Humans and Orcs were thus born. Peace was by now an impossibility. While the south was razed in the flames of war, the dwarves were facing extinction as ogre and goblin clans began destroying their strongholds. In a failed bid to protect the last dwarven city, the Dwarves collapsed the tunnels leading to the capital, a vain attempt to isolate themselves from the outside world.
It was around this time when the great invasion began. After a minor feud between the Humans and the Orcs, they declared war on each other. The orcs, who held the advantage of numbers, overan the human lands, sweeping away all resistance. They reached Nightsorrow, where humanity was making a stand. Though the orcs were more numerous and had the advantage of being well rested, the human armies were prepared to die in place rather than retreating, giving them a considerable boost. When the orcs came, they did not find a ragged group of starving peasants, as they expected, but a powerful force with a near fanatical moral. Needless to say the orcs were driven back with heavy casualties that they would never truly recover from. The Humans pushed the orcs past the river Kavash, and on an island in the middle of the river they build Eastguard Keep to hold an eternal vigilence on their weakened enemies.
The orcs were unable to keep unity, and the kingdom eventually collapsed, leaving way for an assembly of clans. While the human civilisation prospered, it's orcish and elven counterparts were decaying. The Human's peak did not last long, however. A cruel mage by the name of Kryptikk Soulslayer began dwelving into magics better left alone. Soon, he discovered that by sacrificing himself, he could attain true power. And so he became a Lich, a powerful creature commanding vast undead legions.
He made his camp in the forest of Darklingwood. His presence alone began corrupting the land and it wasn't long before it reached Darklingwood Manor. There, Lord Soulrender, Lord of Darklingwood, Nightsorrow and beyond, was driven to madness by the Lich's cursed magics. He became one of the undead's greatest generals, bringing doom upon the living.
The town of Nightsorrow was once a sprawling city, filled with prosperous merchants. Being on the crossroads of Darklingwood, Eastguard Keep and Brightwood Village granted it considerable wealth, and under the benevolent Kelen, it thrived. Needless to say the town attracted Kryptikk's attention, and soon the Lich's vile necropolis floated above the city, legions of undead pouring out to slaughter the citizens. Kelen escaoed with a small group of survivors, and together they formed a small settlement along the road to Eastguard keep.
While the land tears itself apart in a brutal war of the races, a dark cloud fills the sky. Will the mortals be able to band together against the coming darkness?
Sal'siathaz swam in the deeps, along with a dozen of his kin. The savage Naga had received word from their scouts that a ship had layed anchor here. The cold blooded creature's mind raced to previous battles, and old enemies.
When the Titans shaped the world, their favorites were undeniably the Naga. Gifted with supreme intelect and cunning, the vile snakes quickly dominated the oceans. When the Elves were learning how to make fire the Naga had already built a sprawling civilisation. Levithians, pirates, murlocs... None stood a chance against their icy grip. That is untill the Elves grew bold and declared war.
When he surfaced, Sal'siathaz's soulless eyes searched the ship's mast, trying to find a flag. He, or more it, smiled with cruelty: the ship flew an Elven flag. Perfect.
The Elves, in their arrogance, mannipulated the very arcane fabric of the world to suit their own petty ends. With this power they submitted nearly all of the continent to their dominance. As if this was not enough, they began making ships and fleets, encroaching on the Naga's natural homeland.
The Naga saw this as the last straw. A war errupted, one that would turn vast tracks of land into empty deserts and lay waste to the Naga's glorious civilisation. The Elves first sent their fleets to bombard the Naga cities with vile concoctions. Then came the magi, who raised the Southern Marshes from the sea floor to allow their armies to take the settlements there. The Naga, outnumbered and desperate for a weapon to defeat the Elves, dwelved into a dark magic... one that would one day put Rillia to the flame.
Excluding a few sentries, most of the Elves were asleep in their cabins. This was when the fragile creatures were the weakest. Sal'siathaz tightened his grip around his trident and began climbing up the ship.
The Undead magics turned out to be the Naga's own doom. The Elf armies conquered most of the Naga land and with the surrounding area captured, their magi created a bubble of air around the Naga capital, allowing the Elf armies to venture inside. All of a sudden, thousands of horrible abominations of nature began pouring out from the Naga's beseiged capital, tearing through Elf and Naga alike. When the dust had settled and the spell of undeath expired, the Elves rounded up the surviving Naga and exiled them to live a life of imprisonnement in the Southern Marshes.
Sal'siathaz silently aproached the Elf sentinel and prepared to strike it down. He smiled again, knowing the vengance of the Naga would come one day.
Rillia: Altough it is the name of the continent, it is actually derived from the castle town of Rillia, a Human settlement. The Elves settled here and since then it served as an invaluable strategic position, being located in the center of the continent and bordering many different races.
Thousands of years ago, the omipotent Titans came to Rillia. There, they created three races to keep order in the world; The Naga, who were created to submit the seas to the titan laws, the Dwarves, to keep the vile monstrosities that dwell under the earth in check, and the Elves, to protect the wildlife of the land. Together, these three races thrived, united to keep the balance. And yet over time memory faded, and generation after generation began to war against the other races. The elven kingdom grew beyond it's limits and incurred the anger of the naga. The two races fought in a savage war which seemed to have no end.
Yet eventually the Elves, who controlled the battlefield by numbers and magic, defeated the Naga and banished them from their lairs, cursing the amphibians to being forever trapped within the southern swamps. The war ravaged the elven kingdom, however, and it wasn't long before a civil war split the massive empire into three seperate nations and, eventually, races.
The Humans and Orcs were thus born. Peace was by now an impossibility. While the south was razed in the flames of war, the dwarves were facing extinction as ogre and goblin clans began destroying their strongholds. In a failed bid to protect the last dwarven city, the Dwarves collapsed the tunnels leading to the capital, a vain attempt to isolate themselves from the outside world.
It was around this time when the great invasion began. After a minor feud between the Humans and the Orcs, they declared war on each other. The orcs, who held the advantage of numbers, overan the human lands, sweeping away all resistance. They reached Nightsorrow, where humanity was making a stand. Though the orcs were more numerous and had the advantage of being well rested, the human armies were prepared to die in place rather than retreating, giving them a considerable boost. When the orcs came, they did not find a ragged group of starving peasants, as they expected, but a powerful force with a near fanatical moral. Needless to say the orcs were driven back with heavy casualties that they would never truly recover from. The Humans pushed the orcs past the river Kavash, and on an island in the middle of the river they build Eastguard Keep to hold an eternal vigilence on their weakened enemies.
The orcs were unable to keep unity, and the kingdom eventually collapsed, leaving way for an assembly of clans. While the human civilisation prospered, it's orcish and elven counterparts were decaying. The Human's peak did not last long, however. A cruel mage by the name of Kryptikk Soulslayer began dwelving into magics better left alone. Soon, he discovered that by sacrificing himself, he could attain true power. And so he became a Lich, a powerful creature commanding vast undead legions.
He made his camp in the forest of Darklingwood. His presence alone began corrupting the land and it wasn't long before it reached Darklingwood Manor. There, Lord Soulrender, Lord of Darklingwood, Nightsorrow and beyond, was driven to madness by the Lich's cursed magics. He became one of the undead's greatest generals, bringing doom upon the living.
The town of Nightsorrow was once a sprawling city, filled with prosperous merchants. Being on the crossroads of Darklingwood, Eastguard Keep and Brightwood Village granted it considerable wealth, and under the benevolent Kelen, it thrived. Needless to say the town attracted Kryptikk's attention, and soon the Lich's vile necropolis floated above the city, legions of undead pouring out to slaughter the citizens. Kelen escaoed with a small group of survivors, and together they formed a small settlement along the road to Eastguard keep.
While the land tears itself apart in a brutal war of the races, a dark cloud fills the sky. Will the mortals be able to band together against the coming darkness?
The first instances of Undead apeared in the Elf Wars, in which the naga would use black magic to reanimate beasts and horrors from the deeps from the slumber of death. These Undead, however, were inperfect, and it took a great deal of magic to revive a small group of Undead. When the Elves raided Silsth'Akar, capital of the Nagan empire, most of these Undead were slain and the Naga dark priests slain.
The knowledge of the Undead was brought to the continent via the returning elven armies, and it wasn't long before a host of elven magi were dwelving in the dark arts of necromancery. The relations between ther twin capitals of Anastreia and Rillia, already strained, snapped when the cultists began sacrificing animals and bringing them back as Undead. The people of Rillia viewed the entire group as a menace to the land and demanded that they be disbanded and the leaders executed, while Anastreia's leaders defended the spellcasters, pointing out that they had a right to practice whichever magic they wanted. The issue resulted in a brutal civil war that ended with the destruction of the dark mages and the foundation of two new kingdoms, Rillia and Iabud. Eventually, over the course of thousands of years, these would become their own respective races.
Kryptikk Soulslayer grew up in Nightsorrow. He was always ambitious, always looking for a path to power. One day, an elven mage, the last survivor of the previously mentioned group of dark magi, stumbled to him, severly wounded. Before the mage died he was able to tell Kryptikk his tale. The human, who was already begining to study the arts of magic, set his goal as to study this new form of magic.
As he grew older, his growing powers began to attract the attention of the town guard and he was chased away from his abode, his home being burned down. He had nowhere to flee exept Darklingwood Forest. There, his sanity was lost in a torrent of spells, each darker and more sinister than the last. He eventually poisened Darklingwood Manor's water supply, leaving the entire region swarming with his Undead minions. Perhaps the greatest soul to be lost to the Undead during this event was Lord Soulrender, a rich and powerful lord who controlled vast tracks of land. He and his loyal followers fought out until the end, holding themselves up in the throne room, but eventually the Undead overan them and he was ressurected as a general of the Undead forces.
Lord Soulslayer personally oversaw the destruction of Nightsorrow. While Abominations slaughtered the populations, he rode out with a group of death knights and ambushed the escaping townsfolk. During this time, Kryptikk commaded the legions of the damned as they razed Sahtleak and built the Undead's first foothold in the elven lands.
Now is the hour of the Undead. It is now that the bells of death shall ring again and the dark legions shall march in Rillia.
The knowledge of the Undead was brought to the continent via the returning elven armies, and it wasn't long before a host of elven magi were dwelving in the dark arts of necromancery. The relations between ther twin capitals of Anastreia and Rillia, already strained, snapped when the cultists began sacrificing animals and bringing them back as Undead. The people of Rillia viewed the entire group as a menace to the land and demanded that they be disbanded and the leaders executed, while Anastreia's leaders defended the spellcasters, pointing out that they had a right to practice whichever magic they wanted. The issue resulted in a brutal civil war that ended with the destruction of the dark mages and the foundation of two new kingdoms, Rillia and Iabud. Eventually, over the course of thousands of years, these would become their own respective races.
Kryptikk Soulslayer grew up in Nightsorrow. He was always ambitious, always looking for a path to power. One day, an elven mage, the last survivor of the previously mentioned group of dark magi, stumbled to him, severly wounded. Before the mage died he was able to tell Kryptikk his tale. The human, who was already begining to study the arts of magic, set his goal as to study this new form of magic.
As he grew older, his growing powers began to attract the attention of the town guard and he was chased away from his abode, his home being burned down. He had nowhere to flee exept Darklingwood Forest. There, his sanity was lost in a torrent of spells, each darker and more sinister than the last. He eventually poisened Darklingwood Manor's water supply, leaving the entire region swarming with his Undead minions. Perhaps the greatest soul to be lost to the Undead during this event was Lord Soulrender, a rich and powerful lord who controlled vast tracks of land. He and his loyal followers fought out until the end, holding themselves up in the throne room, but eventually the Undead overan them and he was ressurected as a general of the Undead forces.
Lord Soulslayer personally oversaw the destruction of Nightsorrow. While Abominations slaughtered the populations, he rode out with a group of death knights and ambushed the escaping townsfolk. During this time, Kryptikk commaded the legions of the damned as they razed Sahtleak and built the Undead's first foothold in the elven lands.
Now is the hour of the Undead. It is now that the bells of death shall ring again and the dark legions shall march in Rillia.
The following is an exerpt from "The Great Civilisations", written by the the reknown explorer Pytheas Kutas himself.
The Orcish Hordes are as disorganized as they are fierce. For as long as they have existed, Orcs have inspired terror and respect from their neighbours with their brutal raids, the most famous of which burned Nightsorrow to the ground before being driven out by Imperial reinforcements. They inhabit the Thurunga Desert and its surrounding area.
The Orcs are lead by an elected council of shamans, the Kir'ogar, which deals with the administrative problems of the Horde. There is also a Warchief of the Horde who stays in power until his death; the Warchief commands the orcish armies into battle as well as reining in dissident clans. The sharing of power creates a permanent struggle for power, with the Warchief and the Kir'ogar constantly at each-other's throats. When the Warchief falls in battle (The Warchief must always be the among the first to charge into enemy ranks, therefore it is almost unheard of that one survives long enough do die of old age), the strongest Clan leaders are nominated to become the new Warchief. These then fight to the death to decide who is the most worthy of the title.
In recent years the Warchief has been very active in centralising the Clans. He has assembled one of the largest orcish armies ever to be seen, though its perpose is not clear. Some speculate that he may have his eyes on the destruction of the Elves who only just resently had been besieging the orc capital of Iabud. Others still insist that the Orcs are preparing another raid on Imperial soil. Whatever their plans, the Orcs will clearly be a driving force in the near future.
The Orcish Hordes are as disorganized as they are fierce. For as long as they have existed, Orcs have inspired terror and respect from their neighbours with their brutal raids, the most famous of which burned Nightsorrow to the ground before being driven out by Imperial reinforcements. They inhabit the Thurunga Desert and its surrounding area.
The Orcs are lead by an elected council of shamans, the Kir'ogar, which deals with the administrative problems of the Horde. There is also a Warchief of the Horde who stays in power until his death; the Warchief commands the orcish armies into battle as well as reining in dissident clans. The sharing of power creates a permanent struggle for power, with the Warchief and the Kir'ogar constantly at each-other's throats. When the Warchief falls in battle (The Warchief must always be the among the first to charge into enemy ranks, therefore it is almost unheard of that one survives long enough do die of old age), the strongest Clan leaders are nominated to become the new Warchief. These then fight to the death to decide who is the most worthy of the title.
In recent years the Warchief has been very active in centralising the Clans. He has assembled one of the largest orcish armies ever to be seen, though its perpose is not clear. Some speculate that he may have his eyes on the destruction of the Elves who only just resently had been besieging the orc capital of Iabud. Others still insist that the Orcs are preparing another raid on Imperial soil. Whatever their plans, the Orcs will clearly be a driving force in the near future.
The following is an exerpt from "The Great Civilisations", written by the the reknown explorer Pytheas Kutas himself.
Most Humans now do not apreciate the rich heritage they possess. By far, the only bastion of humanity worth mentioning is my own homeland, the Rillian Empire.
It was only recently discovered that Rillia proper had been founded by Elves hailing from Anastreia. Most modern historians theorise that upon the collapse of the Elven Empire most of the mages in our lands fled to the sanctuary of the west. With no magic source to draw strength from, the Elves in Rillia gradually, over hundreds of years, morphed into modern humans. While this theory has its flaws it has been widely accepted as historical fact.
It is only in recent times, however, that the Empire stood united as it presently does. Around three hundred years ago the land was divided in a pathwork of independant city-states that constantly waged war upon one another: it took the threat of the rising Port Soldi to force the other kingdoms to band together. The war against Soldi (which was at the time by far the largest of the kingdoms) is known today only through popular legend, though it is likely that the story has been distorted with time. The legend goes that after Soldi raided Rillia proper and stole a sacred relic, the lords of the land were each visited by a holy messenger that bid them to work together against the common threat. According to the story, they obeyed and won a series of battles that they should have logically lost, propagating the myth that the army was aided by the divines. While the allied forces laid siege to Soldi, the legend states that the heavens themselves turned against the defenders, spreading plague and striking Soldi soldiers with lightning. According to the tale Soldi fell in less than a day and the Rillians conquered all of the Kingdom. Now back to historical facts: It is known that after Soldi was besieged by allied forces, and after a month of intense fighting, the city did indeed fall into Rillian hands. However, most of the former kingdom of Soldi was never conquered by the newly formed Empire, and that the so-called "miracles" of the campaign were owed to the brilliance of the allied generals.
The Empire reached its peak several years ago with the construction of Fort Stonewatch to tame Rillia's holdings in the Northern Wastes. However, since the Undead appeared virtually out of nowhere and rased Nightsorrow to the ground, we have been in a period of increased difficulties. While the Undead push on in the west, savages from the north, bandits in the east (Who united and captured Soldi when the Undead invaded) and the Orcs to the south all press on our borders and make us wonder if humanity will survive to see the dawn.
Most Humans now do not apreciate the rich heritage they possess. By far, the only bastion of humanity worth mentioning is my own homeland, the Rillian Empire.
It was only recently discovered that Rillia proper had been founded by Elves hailing from Anastreia. Most modern historians theorise that upon the collapse of the Elven Empire most of the mages in our lands fled to the sanctuary of the west. With no magic source to draw strength from, the Elves in Rillia gradually, over hundreds of years, morphed into modern humans. While this theory has its flaws it has been widely accepted as historical fact.
It is only in recent times, however, that the Empire stood united as it presently does. Around three hundred years ago the land was divided in a pathwork of independant city-states that constantly waged war upon one another: it took the threat of the rising Port Soldi to force the other kingdoms to band together. The war against Soldi (which was at the time by far the largest of the kingdoms) is known today only through popular legend, though it is likely that the story has been distorted with time. The legend goes that after Soldi raided Rillia proper and stole a sacred relic, the lords of the land were each visited by a holy messenger that bid them to work together against the common threat. According to the story, they obeyed and won a series of battles that they should have logically lost, propagating the myth that the army was aided by the divines. While the allied forces laid siege to Soldi, the legend states that the heavens themselves turned against the defenders, spreading plague and striking Soldi soldiers with lightning. According to the tale Soldi fell in less than a day and the Rillians conquered all of the Kingdom. Now back to historical facts: It is known that after Soldi was besieged by allied forces, and after a month of intense fighting, the city did indeed fall into Rillian hands. However, most of the former kingdom of Soldi was never conquered by the newly formed Empire, and that the so-called "miracles" of the campaign were owed to the brilliance of the allied generals.
The Empire reached its peak several years ago with the construction of Fort Stonewatch to tame Rillia's holdings in the Northern Wastes. However, since the Undead appeared virtually out of nowhere and rased Nightsorrow to the ground, we have been in a period of increased difficulties. While the Undead push on in the west, savages from the north, bandits in the east (Who united and captured Soldi when the Undead invaded) and the Orcs to the south all press on our borders and make us wonder if humanity will survive to see the dawn.
Argon Flameseeker stood on a hill overlooking the golden gates of Sahtleak.
At the gates, a savage battle was being fought between his fellow elves, lead by the Ranger General Kathris Starsong, and the undead hordes. It was only a week ago that the infection first came to Sahtleak, but it now felt like years. There was no warning- the glorious city never thought it would be attacked there, in the heart of the elven lands.
But it happened. Slowly, the forest's taint grew until Sahtleak was devoured by darkness. All the Elves could do was to try to contain the undead, attempting to hold them off til reinforcements could arrive. Argon closed his eyes for a moment, gathering energy, and suddenly a storm of ice fell upon the undead hordes. But it was simply not enough. For every undead he slew, three more came to take its place. The magelord collapsed to the ground, clearly exhausted by the spell. He looked again towards the battlefield, noticing that the Undead's advance had slowed- they now had to slip past what was left of the ice blocks he called.
In elven society, magi are respected and hold most of the power. The only non-mage in the Council is a reprensentative from Warden Hold, to the south. As a child, Argon was quickly singled out and brought in for training at Turok Academy once it was discovered he had the rare gift of magic. He remembered Turok's shinning halls, the floating spires and the very air that was full of magical energy, a natural byproduct of all the spells being cast in the area.
Turok Academy had been founded thousands of years before the war with the Naga. When the war came, the Naga tore a hole through the elven lands, killing and destroying anything that had the slightest bit to do with th magic they so feared. The entire mage populations of the Thurunga Desert and the eastern forests, future home of the Orcs and Humans respectivly, were wiped out in a genocidal campaign. Turok was left as the last standing bastion of magic.
He was awoken from these distant memories by a battlecry. He looked down at the field of battle, and watched as Kathris Starsong led a counter-attack against the walking dead. Argon raised his hands in the air, summoning a massive elemental to tear through the undead. The creature was imidiatly assaulted by several abominations, savagly hacking at it's rock hard skin with giant cleavers. Argon was growing desperate for a spell to halt the Undead's assault. At this rate Anastreia would be assaulted in little more than a month.
He had never enjoyed staying at Anastreia. The elven capital's streets were dangerous, as wild creatures, elven or otherwise stalked them at night. As Magelord, he was part of the Council ruling over the elven lands that was based in Anastreia. The city was divided into two zones: The "proper" zone, comprising of the entrance, the wealthy districts and the Council's headquarters, and the "tainted" zone, which covers a good part of the city. The "Tainted" zone is home to the scum of elven sociaty. The buildings there are in disrepair, as no carpenter in the right ming would enter it, and the city guards tend to stay on the city's outskirts, as even they are afraid of what lurks within.
Argon could no longer sit idle on his vantage point. He mounted his dragonhawk, grabbed his lance and charged into battle, determined to fight to the death for his homeland.
At the gates, a savage battle was being fought between his fellow elves, lead by the Ranger General Kathris Starsong, and the undead hordes. It was only a week ago that the infection first came to Sahtleak, but it now felt like years. There was no warning- the glorious city never thought it would be attacked there, in the heart of the elven lands.
But it happened. Slowly, the forest's taint grew until Sahtleak was devoured by darkness. All the Elves could do was to try to contain the undead, attempting to hold them off til reinforcements could arrive. Argon closed his eyes for a moment, gathering energy, and suddenly a storm of ice fell upon the undead hordes. But it was simply not enough. For every undead he slew, three more came to take its place. The magelord collapsed to the ground, clearly exhausted by the spell. He looked again towards the battlefield, noticing that the Undead's advance had slowed- they now had to slip past what was left of the ice blocks he called.
In elven society, magi are respected and hold most of the power. The only non-mage in the Council is a reprensentative from Warden Hold, to the south. As a child, Argon was quickly singled out and brought in for training at Turok Academy once it was discovered he had the rare gift of magic. He remembered Turok's shinning halls, the floating spires and the very air that was full of magical energy, a natural byproduct of all the spells being cast in the area.
Turok Academy had been founded thousands of years before the war with the Naga. When the war came, the Naga tore a hole through the elven lands, killing and destroying anything that had the slightest bit to do with th magic they so feared. The entire mage populations of the Thurunga Desert and the eastern forests, future home of the Orcs and Humans respectivly, were wiped out in a genocidal campaign. Turok was left as the last standing bastion of magic.
He was awoken from these distant memories by a battlecry. He looked down at the field of battle, and watched as Kathris Starsong led a counter-attack against the walking dead. Argon raised his hands in the air, summoning a massive elemental to tear through the undead. The creature was imidiatly assaulted by several abominations, savagly hacking at it's rock hard skin with giant cleavers. Argon was growing desperate for a spell to halt the Undead's assault. At this rate Anastreia would be assaulted in little more than a month.
He had never enjoyed staying at Anastreia. The elven capital's streets were dangerous, as wild creatures, elven or otherwise stalked them at night. As Magelord, he was part of the Council ruling over the elven lands that was based in Anastreia. The city was divided into two zones: The "proper" zone, comprising of the entrance, the wealthy districts and the Council's headquarters, and the "tainted" zone, which covers a good part of the city. The "Tainted" zone is home to the scum of elven sociaty. The buildings there are in disrepair, as no carpenter in the right ming would enter it, and the city guards tend to stay on the city's outskirts, as even they are afraid of what lurks within.
Argon could no longer sit idle on his vantage point. He mounted his dragonhawk, grabbed his lance and charged into battle, determined to fight to the death for his homeland.
Sal'siathaz swam in the deeps, along with a dozen of his kin. The savage Naga had received word from their scouts that a ship had layed anchor here. The cold blooded creature's mind raced to previous battles, and old enemies.
When the Titans shaped the world, their favorites were undeniably the Naga. Gifted with supreme intelect and cunning, the vile snakes quickly dominated the oceans. When the Elves were learning how to make fire the Naga had already built a sprawling civilisation. Levithians, pirates, murlocs... None stood a chance against their icy grip. That is untill the Elves grew bold and declared war.
When he surfaced, Sal'siathaz's soulless eyes searched the ship's mast, trying to find a flag. He, or more it, smiled with cruelty: the ship flew an Elven flag. Perfect.
The Elves, in their arrogance, mannipulated the very arcane fabric of the world to suit their own petty ends. With this power they submitted nearly all of the continent to their dominance. As if this was not enough, they began making ships and fleets, encroaching on the Naga's natural homeland.
The Naga saw this as the last straw. A war errupted, one that would turn vast tracks of land into empty deserts and lay waste to the Naga's glorious civilisation. The Elves first sent their fleets to bombard the Naga cities with vile concoctions. Then came the magi, who raised the Southern Marshes from the sea floor to allow their armies to take the settlements there. The Naga, outnumbered and desperate for a weapon to defeat the Elves, dwelved into a dark magic... one that would one day put Rillia to the flame.
Excluding a few sentries, most of the Elves were asleep in their cabins. This was when the fragile creatures were the weakest. Sal'siathaz tightened his grip around his trident and began climbing up the ship.
The Undead magics turned out to be the Naga's own doom. The Elf armies conquered most of the Naga land and with the surrounding area captured, their magi created a bubble of air around the Naga capital, allowing the Elf armies to venture inside. All of a sudden, thousands of horrible abominations of nature began pouring out from the Naga's beseiged capital, tearing through Elf and Naga alike. When the dust had settled and the spell of undeath expired, the Elves rounded up the surviving Naga and exiled them to live a life of imprisonnement in the Southern Marshes.
Sal'siathaz silently aproached the Elf sentinel and prepared to strike it down. He smiled again, knowing the vengance of the Naga would come one day.
The following is an exerpt from "The Great Civilisations", written by the the reknown explorer Pytheas Kutas himself.
Though Soldi now is known as a collection of ruins, constant battlefield between the Empire and bandits descending from the highlands, it was once the seat of a vast and powerful kingdom that at one point had almost conquered all of Rillia. Through careful diplomacy and outright warfare it controled everything from the Port itself to the northern highlands, from the Eastvale marshes to the western plains. When soldi went to war against the other Rillian nations, King Garth promised land, riches and victory to his people, none of which they received.
The war turned badly and Port Soldi was eventually besieged. King Garth died in vain attempting to defend the city, and a few days later a peace treaty was signed that effectivly annexed the port. And yet even then did Soldi continue to resist the occupiers. Many loyal Soldi knights managed to escape to the Highlands, and their descendents are known today as the Corsairs. There they raided the lowlands, fighting a guerrila war against the Empire. They recently resurfaced and have since capture Port Soldi as well as many minor towns and villages on the road to Rillia with the aid of some bandit clans.
Though Soldi now is known as a collection of ruins, constant battlefield between the Empire and bandits descending from the highlands, it was once the seat of a vast and powerful kingdom that at one point had almost conquered all of Rillia. Through careful diplomacy and outright warfare it controled everything from the Port itself to the northern highlands, from the Eastvale marshes to the western plains. When soldi went to war against the other Rillian nations, King Garth promised land, riches and victory to his people, none of which they received.
The war turned badly and Port Soldi was eventually besieged. King Garth died in vain attempting to defend the city, and a few days later a peace treaty was signed that effectivly annexed the port. And yet even then did Soldi continue to resist the occupiers. Many loyal Soldi knights managed to escape to the Highlands, and their descendents are known today as the Corsairs. There they raided the lowlands, fighting a guerrila war against the Empire. They recently resurfaced and have since capture Port Soldi as well as many minor towns and villages on the road to Rillia with the aid of some bandit clans.
The following is an exerpt from "The Great Civilisations", written by the the reknown explorer Pytheas Kutas himself.
Demonkind are often regarded as myths, stories told to scare children; Recent years however have proven otherwise. I miself narrowly escaped death when my party was ambushed in the Northern Wastes by a pack of the fiends that ventured farther south than usual. As detailed later in this book, we now know that the reason for the sudden isolation of the Dwarves is that a Demon horde appeared on their doorstep, forcing them to seal themselves off. Other notable cases in our own homeland involve solitary madmen who summon Demons much stronger than they can handle, resulting in the warlock's death.
Demons resemble more or less as they are described in the ancient tales. This could be interpretated in several fashions, the most common belief being that at one time Demons ran rampat in the world, where they would clash with our ancestors. The demons have always, however, been influencing humans. They are the darkness that whispers in a man's heart, and even now they are working towards some unkown agenda. Demons usually come in two categories: Whelps and Taskmasters. The Whelps are incapable of sentinent thought and only live to tear beings to shreads. The Taskmasters are the brains of the Demon armies, commanding Whelps in battle and scheming new plans of conquest.
Demonkind are never to be underestimated, doing so is almost always fatal.
Demonkind are often regarded as myths, stories told to scare children; Recent years however have proven otherwise. I miself narrowly escaped death when my party was ambushed in the Northern Wastes by a pack of the fiends that ventured farther south than usual. As detailed later in this book, we now know that the reason for the sudden isolation of the Dwarves is that a Demon horde appeared on their doorstep, forcing them to seal themselves off. Other notable cases in our own homeland involve solitary madmen who summon Demons much stronger than they can handle, resulting in the warlock's death.
Demons resemble more or less as they are described in the ancient tales. This could be interpretated in several fashions, the most common belief being that at one time Demons ran rampat in the world, where they would clash with our ancestors. The demons have always, however, been influencing humans. They are the darkness that whispers in a man's heart, and even now they are working towards some unkown agenda. Demons usually come in two categories: Whelps and Taskmasters. The Whelps are incapable of sentinent thought and only live to tear beings to shreads. The Taskmasters are the brains of the Demon armies, commanding Whelps in battle and scheming new plans of conquest.
Demonkind are never to be underestimated, doing so is almost always fatal.
The following is an exerpt from "The Great Civilisations", written by the the reknown explorer Pytheas Kutas himself.
The Dwarves are an ancient people. When the Trolls were learning how to make fire, the Dwarves had already establised a massive and intricate empire composing of everything from their capital of Ioch to what we currently refer to as the Northern Wastes. Dwarves also posses great ingenuity and architectural skill. It is a great shame that they have fallen so far from grace.
Their empire had been declining under Troll and Bandit raids for centuries, but the sudden and unexpected Ogre invasion rang the death bells of the empire and perhaps even Dwarvenkind. Though the Dwarves fought valliently, the Ogres had superior physical strength and numbers, and drove the dwarves to abbandon all their lands save Ioch. There they made a stand, and still today they fight on.
Their struggle was complicated, however, when a horde of Demons materialised and slaughtered all in their path, be they Ogre or Dwarf. Today the Dwarves still fight on under our feet, determined to reclaim their land and glory.
The Dwarves are an ancient people. When the Trolls were learning how to make fire, the Dwarves had already establised a massive and intricate empire composing of everything from their capital of Ioch to what we currently refer to as the Northern Wastes. Dwarves also posses great ingenuity and architectural skill. It is a great shame that they have fallen so far from grace.
Their empire had been declining under Troll and Bandit raids for centuries, but the sudden and unexpected Ogre invasion rang the death bells of the empire and perhaps even Dwarvenkind. Though the Dwarves fought valliently, the Ogres had superior physical strength and numbers, and drove the dwarves to abbandon all their lands save Ioch. There they made a stand, and still today they fight on.
Their struggle was complicated, however, when a horde of Demons materialised and slaughtered all in their path, be they Ogre or Dwarf. Today the Dwarves still fight on under our feet, determined to reclaim their land and glory.
Rillia: Altough it is the name of the continent, it is actually derived from the castle town of Rillia, a Human settlement. The Elves settled here and since then it served as an invaluable strategic position, being located in the center of the continent and bordering many different races.
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