Nevendaar The Vast (OOC thread and jumbled Lore pile!)

[Alabala]

Welcome, one and all, to the world of Nevendaar.

Behold: The IC in all its glory!(Le click here)



To know this world, one must know its legends, one must know the history of the people who live and die upon its all too often crimson-soaked soil. Let us start, at the very beginning as the people of this world know it...

Note: I don't expect anybody to read all of this in one go and remember it all, so take your time with it. I know it may seem daunting, but you wont find the lore compiled any better anywhere else. Most of the "chapters" in the lore I took from another RP forum, long-since abandoned, but dedicated entirely to this series, so give a tip of your hat to one hell of an admin there that managed to compile all of this.

Ancient Lore:

Few legends were ever spoken about time before Nevendaar was created from the eternal night sea. Fewer still about the existences of the greater gods. What were spoken amongst the races of Nevendaar was that the greater pantheon of gods always existed, or were created by an older race of primordial gods, or even that they were once a race like those of men and dwarves, but they transcended their mortal constraints to rule the heavens. Whatever was said, it is clear that the minds of man, elf, and dwarf cannot encompass what it means to be a god, only that they are to raised on a gilded pedestal and worshipped, obeyed, and unquestioned.

That doesn’t mean that legends of the times before the land was land, and the seas were seas existed. The children of every race can account in harmony how Nevendaar was created, and the strife and pain that caused life to be hard and people to strain their eyes to the sky in supplication of the gods’ favors.

Those legends first speak of the Highfather, lord of the gods, and bringer of light. At his side stood the greater gods, Gallean, Solonielle, and Wotan. The four would come to represent the highest order of gods, with the lesser deities cling to one or many of their collective feet. The Highfather was the first to show the gods’ desire to create by forming the heavenly host from the strands of hair in his beard. The angels worshipped the Highfather and shed light across the heavens that swirled like streaking arrows in the wine dark sea. The angels quickly found favor with the gods, and names like Gabriel, Isabel, and Michael were anointed with power. But none found the eye of the Highfather like an angel named Bethrezen. The greater god was so pleased with his creation in Bethrezen that he gifted the angel with the power to create.

Bethrezen was humbled by the Highfather’s generosity and determined to honor him by creating the perfect world. This world Bethrezen called Nevendaar, or ‘the sacred lands’ in the angelic tongue. Seeing the world Bethrezen had created, the three greater gods also longed to aid in the creation of the world. Gallean first touched the lands with a loving caress and created the great trees and forests that populated the land with their fertile shadows and pierced the sky with shrines of silent mediation. Solonielle saw Gallean’s creation and cried for joy. Her salty tears rushed across Nevendaar filling the seas and creating rivers and lakes that dotted the landscape. Then together in a loving embrace the god and goddess joined together to create two races in their combined images. From the woods sprouted the elves, graceful and gentle to the land that harbored them. And the seas flourished with the merfolk, who dove to the depths and created temples in honor of the deities. Not to be undone, Wotan struck the earth and massive ranges of mountains tore into the sky. Towering over the rest of creation, Wotan chiseled the dwarven races out of granite and limestone, with the intent that they should rule over all of the lands. However the dwarves were content at the peak of the world and built cities on and into the mountain ranges where they lived. So to did the lesser gods create lesser races that dotted the lands with new cultures and new figures.

Seeing the other gods’ gifts to his Nevendaar, Bethrezen pulled feathers from his wings and formed the great and small birds of the lands. Then he drew the salt from his eyes and filled the seas with fish. He rubbed the skin from his hands and feet to create the beasts of earth. And from his blood he created man and gave them everything they desired in his perfect world. Content with his work he showed this Nevendaar to the angelic hosts, announcing that he would show his offering to the Highfather, a symbol of his respect. He asked that his brothers and sisters would stand guard over the offering while he fetched the Highfather. But many of the angels were jealous of what Bethrezen created. They stole to the surface of Nevendaar and spoke with mankind who were focused on the will of the gods. For the first time, mankind saw its existence for what it truly was. The dark angels to mankind of mortality. They spoke of possessions and desires, and quickly mankind fell into these traps. Greed and lust ran rampant across the lands, and mankind burned much of creation in their impulse.

As the great forest burned, the elven race rushed to the towering mountains for shelter. The dwarves feared that the madness that gripped mankind had spread to the elves, so the earthen race created swords and hammers to protect their cities. Unarmed, most of the elves were slaughtered, and their blood stained the rivers that ran down from the peaks. Gallean cried in terror at the carnage that was enacted upon his elves and demanded that Wotan punish his creations. Wotan sneered at the other god. The forest god turned to bind the dwarves into the earth and Wotan roared in anger. Transforming himself into a great wolf, Wotan attacked Gallean, tearing his heart out of the god’s chest. With divine strength Wotan hurled the beating heart into the sun where it would lie forever. Solonielle rushed to her love’s aid, braving the sun’s fury in an attempt to rescue the heart of the god. When she emerged from the torturous surface of the sun, her beauty and grace was gone, leaving only the scarred countenance full of righteous anger at the stone god. However when she placed the heart back in Gallean’s chest, it refused to beat sending Solonielle into a despair that consumed her.

When Bethrezen returned to Nevendaar with the Highfather, the elder god was furious at the destruction and death that he saw. Enraged he hurled Bethrezen into the center of his own world, condemning him to an eternity at its core, as punishment for the insult. Then the Highfather gave the people of Nevendaar law to cease the chaos and destruction. Once again peace eased over Nevendaar, and the races lived in uneasy harmony with their heart strained to feel the presence of the divine once again.

In the center of Nevendaar, Bethrezen boiled with anger that his offering was tainted and he was blamed. Fueled by hatred, Bethrezen created a new race, the race of demons. They would be his weapons to enact his retribution on the world that condemned him, on the angels that betrayed him, and the god that spurned him. His hatred twisted him in on himself, shaping his once beautiful body into a corrupt shell of chaos. Yet his patience remained, sending his spite against the world in small dosages, and biding his time until he could enact his escape from his prison and destroy all that was created.

Likewise, Solonielle’s despair consumed her. She ignored the pleas from her children and cries until her eyes drained themselves of any sign of compassion. Her own heart withered in the emptiness of her chest and she stopped calling herself Solonielle for the name Mortis. Mortis yearned to be embraced by Gallean once again, and longed for the consoling touch of oblivion. Only her seething anger at Wotan and his half-men gave her purpose. And with the patience of a goddess, she too waited for a time to enact her own vengeance.

---

The Great War:

For six thousands years, peace reigned in Nevendaar. While there were conflicts between the lesser races and the three greater races on Nevendaar, these were few and met with limited resistance. The dwarven races and elves forged a silent peace accord, and the kingdoms of man flourished across the landscape. Slowly the kingdoms merged into one great empire, the Holy Empire dedicated to the worship of the Highfather. The clans of dwarves found solitude at the peaks of their mountains. The elves abided their lives in the great forests, pleading to the heavens for Gallean or Solonielle to grant them a sign that they weren’t alone. It was a time of great harvest, when death was a welcome mistress after a long life.

That doesn’t mean that Bethrezen was content in his demonic prison. He occasionally vented his wrath, burning forests from below, and ravaging farms. Occasional demons escaped the hellish lair of their dark god to reap chaos on the surface world. But despite these rare occurrences, Nevendaar knew peace.

The first sign truly dark sign of what was to come came five hundred years before the first Great War in a southern kingdom of the Empire called Alkmaar. Mortis foresaw an opportunity to reap her vengeance on the children of Wotan, and carefully began to sow her seeds of death. A foul mist enshrouded Alkmaar, filling the air with a vile plague that even the mystical people that inhabited the lands couldn’t disperse. Within days the population was all but wiped out, and the Empire determined the land was cursed, renaming it the Forests of Night. The few people that remained with a thread of life still clinging to the world before death, quickly proselytized themselves before Mortis, and began to learn her magic of unnatural death. However this land remained cloistered from the rest of the world, unbidden into the rest of Nevendaar.

It wasn’t until the age when Stummir Thunderhammer sat on the throne of the High King of the Mountain Clans, and a young prince named Demosthene was proclaimed Emperor that the dire prophecies began to emerge from messengers of the gods. In the clans, a prophet named Memnor was granted a dream by one of Wotan’s valkyries. In it Memnor heard of the approaching Ragnorok, a time where death would threaten the children of the mountain god, and attempt to extinguish life. Meanwhile the prophets of the Empire, and the oracles of the elves foretold of the rise of a fiery angel that would bring destruction in his wake. Many ignored the telling, others armed themselves for the war that was to come. Bethrezen and Mortis sought their revenge.

First came the opening of hell into Nevendaar. A abyssal pit ripped the earth apart and spilled forth with Bethrezen’s demonic host, intent on creating an egress for their dark god to escape his damned cell. They quickly rushed into the cities, bringing fire and brimstone as they came. All while using their dark magic to possess the Queen and wife of Demosthene into freely giving herself to the legions.

Taking advantage of the Empire’s internal concerns, Mortis launched her own assault on the tribes of the dwarven people. Raising the dead Alkmaar from their restless graves, she sent the shambling undead at the Clans with quenchless lust for dwarven blood. Lead by the necromancer Hela, the undead stormed the fortresses of the High King, and slaughtered him, raising his corpse up as a sacrifice to the dark goddess.

Stunned at the events, the Mountain Clans faltered for a moment, before they drove back towards the Undead Hordes with cries of valor. Lead by a warrior named Morok Cloudkeeper, and flanked by valkyries, the Clans surged back into the undead, tearing through their unnatural limbs with the ferocity of their battle axes and berserk rage at the dishonor done to their king. They pursued Hela into her own lair where they recovered their stone Rune of Wisdom and sealed the necromancer’s spirit in stone.

In the Empire, lead by the Imperial paladins, man renewed their desperate plight against the Legions, forcing them back to the rent in the earth. Powerful white wizards sealed the opening while knights on valiant chargers dispatched any demons they found. However the victory was tainted. The wife of the Emperor lay slain, having succumbed to Bethrezen’s powers, and the infant son of Demosthene had vanished. Worse still were the dark prophecies that Ragnorok had but just begun, and Bethrezen’s armies would return. Licking their wounds and readying themselves for what was to come, the three races of Nevendaar returned home to be with their husbands and wives, in wait for the days of the dark prophecy.

---

The Dark Prophecy:

Ten years past after the Great War, and the three races of Nevendaar licked their wounds. The once great Mountain Clans were in shambles after the assault of the undead while fear of the still approaching Ragnorok haunted their dreams. Only the newly crowned High King Morok Cloudkeeper maintained his optimism that the dwarven races would emerge victorious. The Empire was hardly in better shape. Emperor Demosthene had collapsed in on himself over the death of his wife and his missing heir. Ruthless robber barons snatched up land and enslaved the people with the Imperial order was focused on itself. And the glorious elves sat in their forests, lamenting the vision of the monstrosity their once beautiful goddess had become. To make matters worse, prophecy abounded that worsening days were behind the horizon, threatening to engulf Nevendaar in the grasp of chaos and death. Only one prophecy offered a glimmer of hope, Bethrezen was dying.

In order to free his minions onto the surface world, Bethrezen sacrificed too much of his own power to break even that small of a seal into Nevendaar. But he was prepared in the child Uther. The missing son of Demosthene was to be the new host for Bethrezen’s spirit and power. Gifted with the budding powers of a god, Uther emerged into Wotan’s Spine and was led to the Empire’s lands by dwarves. Uther’s presence sparked life into the Emperor and the Holy Empire. Flanked by the young prince who could hold his own against even the most powerful of knights and mages, the Empire quickly reestablished itself within its verdant borders, crushing upstarts like Baron de Lalye. The Highfather seemed to be shining down on the kingdom of man once again. However it was not the eyes of benevolence that watched Uther. Other deities had invested their attention on the boy, and watched his progress with rapt interest.

Meanwhile, the Clans were attempting to deal with issues within the scope of their cliffs and spires. Their newly appointed High King was dealing with the death of his son in a different, and even more frightening manner. Using one of the Runes of Wisdom, Morok attempted to resurrect the corpse of Gymner, his son. The effort transformed Morok into a lunatic who began to attack his own clan. After a bloody battle, the body of Morok was placed beside Gymner’s in a funeral pyre. Reeling from the blow of a second dead king, the Clans placed Morok’s daughter, Yataa’Halli as the new regent.

However it was during this time that the Legions and Hordes began to emerge again. Demons began to plague the Devil Mountains and the Undead Hordes awoke from their graves to march towards the elven cities. Prophecy began to come true as the an elf named Lyf forsake the elven beliefs to embrace the goddess Mortis. For the first time, the elven people rallied under one banner to address the undead threat, with the aid of the Empire. Lyf was destroyed, but not before he marred the ground with the blood of those he slaughtered.

To the north, Queen Yataa’Halli determined to reunite the scattered clans and with them, the twelve Runes of Wisdom. Reclaiming the lost city of Greyhelm as her capitol and directed by valkyries, Yataa’Halli and the dwarven Loremasters began to seek a way to avert the coming Ragnorok. However despite their best efforts, a dark mage named Huggin managed to release the great wyrm, Niddhog into the world threatening to devour all of the dwarven clans.

In the Empire, Uther was to be crowned as the next Emperor, as was the custom by the current reigning sovereign. However the young prince had other goals. Instead he slaughtered Demosthene and revealed himself as touched by the soul of Bethrezen, and master of the dying god’s powers. Flanked by demons, Uther began to make his way to claim his throne in Hell when the agents of the Empire and the Legions still loyal to Bethrezen clashed with Uther’s demonic army.

The elves also faced fiercer opposition from the undead waves that clogged their forests with their rotting corpses. The elves were slowly pushed back into their sacred cities that had never before faced invasion. Mortis’ desire to reclaim the land Gallean granted their children drove her to atrocities that shattered the spirits of the elven brotherhood. With the backs to their capitol, led by their Queen Taladrielle, the elves readied for the final assault of the hordes.

Facing disaster on all sides, the three races fought valiantly to save Nevendaar from destruction. The dwarves rallied around Yataa’Halli, and the dwarven queen blessed with Wotan’s might, struck the killing blow against the great wyrm, felling it and the ebb of Ragnorok to the confines of runic lore. Uther, faced by the combined might of the Empire and the Legions of Bethrezen faltered in his surge to claim Hell. It was the Baron Emry that killed the abomination of the half-god. With their champion killed, and Bethrezen’s power returning to the dark god, the Legions returned to his prison where he raged in unbridled anger against his fetters. Weary and beleaguered the Empire turned from the field of battle to their homes and the rise of new problems within the Holy Empire. No one stayed to witness a ghastly shade emerge to scoop up the spilt blood of the divine Uther, and fly back to its mistresses waiting hand.

The throng of the Hordes was too much for the elven protectors and Queen Taladrielle was slain. Fleeing for their lives, Mortis reclaimed the elven lands and started her own sacrifice. Spilling the recovered blood of Uther on the divine elven lands, Mortis resurrected her love Gallean. However as the forest god opened his eyes, he did not see the goddess he loved. Instead he saw a monstrosity, with no resemblance to the goddess Solonielle. With one word the forest god crushed the undead that littered his lands, then turned his back on Mortis who screamed in pain at his rejection. The elven lands were awash with rejoice and sorrow at the return of their god, and the death of their queen. There was much to rebuild across Nevendaar. And far more that dark minds sought to crush.

---

The Rise of the Elves:

Embittered by her rejection at the hands of her former lover, Mortis welled with spite at Gallean and the elves. Sending out dark tendrils to influence other races in her plot, Mortis began to weave a web that if enacted would scar Gallean and the elves with marks of her vengeance for eternity.

Meanwhile, the race of men struggled with reuniting the Empire after the death of Demosthene and Uther. Three figures emerged from the patchwork. Baron Emry, a figure that had risen from the ranks of nobles to be considered a saint by many after his defeat of Uther was favored among the people, however the Duchess Ambrielle had the backing of the aristocracy with her network of spies, and Count Flamel Crowly who had emerged as a religious fanatic, bent on controlling the masses through threats of eternal damnation.

The Clans gained word from a spirit wolf, that their god Wotan wished to speak with them, and instructed them on the runic magic that would open a portal to the realm of the gods. Excited about the prospect of speaking with their deity, the dwarves began to train new Loremasters to recover the ranks that were decimated during the Ragnorok, all while a grand celebration was planned.

Stewing in his pit, Bethrezen’s informants revealed to him the location of the elves’ mana well within a sacred triad of cities. The well could give Bethrezen an opportunity to spill forth his foul realm into the lands of Nevendaar, corrupting it forever. But the newly energized elves stood watch over their cities with powerful wards and warriors bent on its protection. What was more, a pending alliance between the elves and Baron Emry threatened his plans that would strengthen the defenses against him to a point where the Legions could not hope to emerge victorious. Bethrezen turned to his agent, Count Crowly, directing him to lay a claim for the crown. Crowly, eager for power, started a civil war with the hopes of decimating Baron Emry and Duchess Ambrielle with the combined forces of the Legion and his fanatic inquisitors.

At the same time, Crowly’s forces attacked the first of the elven triad where Gallean’s Avatar, Lachla’an resided. The Avatar fought valiantly to protect the city, but fell under the combined strength of Crowly’s soldiers and the demons from Hell. However when the Count turned his attention to the remaining free lands of the Empire, he faced an alliance between Emry and Ambrielle. With the combined might of Emry’s paladins and Ambrielle’s assassins, Crowley insurrection was crushed and he was killed by his own inquisitors for being a heretic.

However the ploy to distract the Empire worked and Bethrezen’s armies attacked the remaining two sacred cities, slaughtering the elves that attempted to protect it. In victory, the Legions celebrated their fortune in horrific manner that resulted in more deaths than the fighting to take the cities themselves. With the mana well captured, brimstone surged into the air, scorching the forests of the elves and marring the land forever. However Bethrezen was far from happy. The intelligence he had received proved less beneficial to his goals than he thought. The well spouted its fire, but its progress was slow and Bethrezen was forced to wait for the lands to burn in his effigy.

In the Spine, the Clans were prepared for their ritual, and as the Loremasters enacted the magic to open the rift so as to speak with their god, the last piece of Mortis’ plan fell into place. Lead by Lachala’an, reborn as a dreaded dark elf, the undead surged into the celebration forcing the dwarven races to retreat from their newly opened rift. Corrupted with contempt for Gallean and the elves, Lachla’an attacked the Gallean through the rift. Spurred by the destruction of three of his sacred cities, the foul taint that his mana well poured into Nevendaar, the deaths of countless elves, and the final insult of the dark elf, Gallean flew into a reckless rage. Emerging from the rift, Gallean transformed into a feral beast, tearing through the dark elf and the relentless hordes like dried parchment. The behemoth surged into the other lands, killing indiscriminately. It was nature’s wrath incarnate, and all of the races fled in terror at the deranged god. When the carnage was complete, Mortis emerged laughing at the monster Gallean had become. Horrified at his lack of restraint and the blood staining his hands, Gallean fled back through the rift, mocked by Mortis’ foul grin.

The elves retreated deep into their forests and began to change. One group of elves, led by their new queen Illumielle began to rebuild their cities into shining palaces fit for their graceful race. Donning glimmering armor and chanting spells of power, these noble elves thought to turn to the Empire for guidance and an alliance. However in the recesses of the forest another group of elves calling themselves the wild elves forged their own identity, one that embraced the ferocity and savageness of nature.

It was from the quiet voice of an oracle named Millu that begins to once again speak the will of Gallean to the elves. Her voice cracked at the god’s strange two-sided nature. She cried out to the leader of the wild elves, a bandit lord named Tora’ach, directing him to attack an Imperial settlement. With savage fury, the elves and centaurs tore through the town, and raze it to the ground.

Queen Illumielle was stunned at the destruction and ferocity exhibited by the new faction. To address what at first the noble elves saw as heresy, they sent wardens to arrest Millu, but Tora’ach spirited her away. Agreeing to an unarmed meeting, Tora’ach and Illumielle meet to discuss the oracle’s fate, when Millu received another prophecy from the god. Seeing the reflection of Gallean in her eyes, the elves ally under her decree, to wage war against the Empire. Disturbed by the news, Illumielle led the new Alliance against Imperial cities, all while frightened by the image of the god in the oracles eyes. Two sides, one shape glimmering in light, the other obscured by darkness.

Led by the newly crowned King Emry, the Empire turned to the Clans for aid. The dwarves hearing the pleas of the Empire turned from their cities and joined in a counter offensive that struck a deep blow against the Alliance, killing Tora’ach. However fueled by Millu, the elves galvanized their defenses and turned back the combined assaults of the two races. Led by a young general named Serphis, the elves attacked the dwarven cities directly. The terrible rage of the elves took the dwarves by surprise and the city that Queen Yataa’Halli was sacked, and the queen was slain. Stunned at the death of their queen the Clans retreated, and the elves turned their attention to the Empire.

Mustering forces that rivaled the Empire’s, the elves launched an invasion against the capitol city of Temperance. King Emry, aided by a master engineer of the dwarves, Gumtik Bledwater, stalled the attack for three months before General Serphis managed to breach the walls of the Imperial city. Fearing for the lives of his people, King Emry signaled a full retreat, fighting the approach of the elves with desperation as they fled. Temperance fell, and Illumielle declared the city as the new Alliance capitol. But there was little celebration. The elves were confused by the turn of events and the changing will of their once peaceful god. They rebuilt the city to best fit the elves, as Millu struggled to make sense the will of their god.

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The New Dawn:

With the Empire and the Mountain Clans pushed back and subdued, the elves were free to establish a foothold in the land with Temperance as their capitol. For several months, the oracle Millu would spend long days and nights in the newly erected shrines to Gallean, contemplating the visions he would send her and divining his will, with queen Illumielle governing the elven people in their attempt to solidify their position on former Imperial soil.

Meanwhile, King Emry marshaled his soldiers not for war, but to aid the fleeing imperial citizens in their retreat from the capitol. With their armies and provisions exhausted, the Empire had no choice, but to abandon Temperance for the time being, retreating into the provinces. In the north, the Mountain Clans, also worn out from war and with their spirits at an all time low, met in their hallowed halls to elect a new High King, or Queen, after the death of Yata'haali. By the end of a long meeting, the elders of the clans were unanimous - Gumtik Bledwater, the dwarven engineer who proved his valor in the battles for Temperance was elected as the new High King of the clans - the first of clan Bledwater to sit upon the throne. The young king turned his attention to re-stabilizing the dwarven military and to repair the damage that both undead and elven invasions had caused.

This period of uneasy peace would not last for the elven race, however as tensions continued to grow between the young queen Illumielle, the oracle Millu and the newly appointed General Serphis. As Millu delivered more dire portents that their god demanded bloodshed and war against both men and dwarves, so did Illumielle's and that of the entire elven people continued to dwindle. The elven people were quickly divided anew, as Illumielle wanted peace and Serphis staunchly demanded that they carry out Gallean's will. Districts of Temperance were closed off from one another, for a second time in the elves' long history the Elven Alliance was torn without hope of reconciliation.

It took many more months until the tensions would finally erupt into violence. The elves who supported general Serphis and those who supported the queen would hunt each other through the streets and alleys of the newly re-build city. Appalled at this savagery, Illumielle called for a meeting with Serphis and the oracle. In it, Millu, confused and weary, spoke once more the will of their god. The queen, desperate to find the right direction for her people would ask the young oracle what they should do. Hesitantly, Millu agreed that war was not the right path for them and that they should retreat. Enraged, Serphis accused both of blasphemy and treachery toward their race and made an attempt at their lives. He was undone by the queen's magic, however.

The Empire had enough time to recover from their losses and King Emry had gathered a new army under his banner, filled with conviction and possessed of the great strength that had made him favoured in the eyes of the people, he marched toward Temperance, only to find its gates opened and the city abandoned, with not a trace of the elves in sight. Wary and confused, the king ordered a search through the entire city and when nothing was unearthed, the bewildered monarch proclaimed Temperance the capitol of the Empire anew.

A month later, an emissary arrived from the Elven Alliance, and none other than the oracle Millu herself. Curious, King Emry received her. During a long meeting, Millu confessed of the turmoil she had caused among the elves and the events that had led to the abandoning of Temperance and the elves' return to their forest cities in the east. The oracle had also delivered a proposal to the king, with other emissaries sent to the Mountain Clans. And namely, the construction of a new city that would be ruled by a council of all three races, in the hopes that it would solidify a lasting peace between the Alliance, the Empire and the Clans.

Both kings, Bledwater and Emry agreed to the proposal and it was not long before the construction of a new city, meant to accommodate all three races began. With the aid of magic, talented architects and skilled artisans, the construction proceeded with great haste and in half a decade, the city, albeit not a great metropolis for the time, was finished and the first hopeful immigrants began their exodus from Imperial cities, mountain halls and forest glades to gather in this new site. Along with them, were the councilmen, hand-picked by the monarchs of the three nations as representatives. And their very first order of business, is to give their new symbolic domain a name to fit its role.

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Thus ends the humongous informational wall, all compiled lovingly for your reading pleasure.

But now that we're done with informing ourselves of where exactly we're standing in this world...

Character Positions:

The Holy Empire:

-Up to 2 representatives.
-King Emry's son from Queen Ambrielle is a viable candidate, as well as another grand noble or minor lord or lady that has distinguished themselves.
-They can be paladins, landed knights, inquisitors for the church of the Highfather, or even members of the Order of the Pegasus, a knightly order that use blessed winged steeds as their mounts in battle.
Mages trained in the colleges of magic or even Rangers, efficient scouts and if need be, assassins and warriors.

The Mountain Clans:
-Up to 2 representatives.
-A relative of the high king (a dwarf from clan Bledwater), an elite warrior who's distinguished him/herself, these are often made part of the King's Guard an elite group of warriors. An engineer (using clockwork and steam-powered machines), or loremaster (dwarven mages who use runic words and the power of their voice to cast magic) are also possible candidates, if they've been deemed worthy by the new High King.

The Elven Alliance:
-Up to 2 representatives.
-As queen Illumielle has no heirs or living relatives, the candidates would be from prominent elven households, mages, warriors who have remained loyal to the queen, or proved instrumental in some way.
-Among them can be counted elven knights, usually young nobles who are trained for decades to master their weapon of choice.
-Archers, of which the elves have plenty.
-Mages, who train in the art of manipulating the elements.

What all the candidates have in common is that they are hand-picked and thusly - deserving of their position in some way. They don't have to be militant in any way, or war-heroes, or even from the nations' respective types of nobility, but they need to have qualities that the monarchs have noticed for them to be sent as representatives as none of these rulers are the type to play favorites.

The Character Sheet Template:

Name:
Race:
Title:
Age:
Appearance:
Equipment:
Bio:
Personality:
Other:

Representatives:

The Holy Empire:
1. Conrad Emry III
2. Illenial D'esparte

The Mountain Clans:
1. Kartonk Rustrock
2. Open

The Elven Alliance:
1. Aelitae Gysse'lyth
2. Idril Saralonde

[Alabala]

And now, a few examples:

Name: Byron Emry
Race: Human
Title: Sovereign of the Empire
Age: 73 (Note that in Nevendaar, it's not uncommon for humans to live up to 140-50 years)
Appearance: An aging paladin of noble birth, Emry looks remarkably unremarkable when placed next to his younger, handsome brethren and his older, wizened compatriots. Streaks of grey mark his light-brown hair and extend to his beard, but his advancing age does not stop him from donning his arms and armor and riding in defense of the Empire. His keen hazel eyes are framed by wrinkles which show his contemplative nature. (images or both images and descriptions are fine with me!)

Equipment: A suit of cerulean blue armor, stylized to resemble the heavenly hosts that he has sworn his faith to. A mighty two-handed blade etched with holy scripture and worn from much battle. The Silver Crown of the emperor, a crown encrusted with no gem, to signify the purity of its wearer.

Bio: Byron Emry was born as the third son of a nobleman of the Imperial court. As he had little chance of inheriting anything of real value, Emry devoted himself instead to the life of the sword, pledging himself as a squire in service to a paladin of the Holy Order. As the years passed and he grew in experience, Emry received his knightly title, and began making a name for himself as a staunch defender of the people and a pious, just man. In the recent conflicts, he showed remarkable valor and strength as he faced the demonic vessel of Bethrezen and emerged victorious, as well as his valiant defense of Temperance against the elves.

Personality: Byron is a man of few words, but those few he speaks are carried in a powerful, yet invitingly warm voice. A benevolent soul of great conviction and honor, he is nevertheless a calculative ruler when the need arises and has put his wife Ambrielle's network of spies and assassins to protect the Holy Empire from threats both within and without.

Other: Many suspect that he had died during battle with demons, but has arisen anew with the blessing of the Highfather. His single-handed victory over a powerful demonic entity, empowered by Bethrezen's own essence seems to prove this, but he has never admitted to such.

Name: Illumielle Ar'Talad
Race: Elf
Title: Queen of the Elven Alliance
Age: 121 (relatively young for an elf)
Appearance: A hauntingly beautiful example of the elven race, queen Illumielle stands as tall as any man, yet moves with a refined grace that few mortals could match. She is of slender build and the rich green colour of her large eyes are enough to captivate many men and women. She often keeps her snow-white hair short, seemingly boyishly so. She is often seen clad in elegant robes of cold or warm colour, woven by the skilled elven craftsmen.

Equipment: A circlet encrusted with three stones, two small diamonds and one large, common stone with a smooth surface, meant to signify the importance of the elves' origins from the simple lands of nature. A finely woven silken robe that covers her whole body.

Bio: The only surviving child of the previous elven Queen Taladrielle, Illumielle took leadership of the elven people in a turbulent time of war, distinguishing herself with tactical acumen and insight as she personally aided her troops and generals in battle with powerful magics that only a true prodigy would be capable of. During the tumultuous march of the elven people, now allied under the banner of the Alliance, she was loathe to send her soldiers into battle with the other races and in recent times has come to regret allowing herself to be led by the oracle Millu's words. As a fair and just leader, she has provided much of the needed resources and manpower to construct the new city on the border of the three greater races' territory.

Personality: Illumielle is an emotional woman, guided by her sense of justice more so than some great political acumen (as elves, until recently had no real need to truly gather under any one banner, rather standing apart together as a race, rather than a nation), she is nevertheless, a quick learner of courtly matters outside of her forest home. Recently, a great sadness hangs over the young queen as she blames herself for the countless deaths of men, dwarves and elves during the wars.

Other: Although gossip is not something elves often indulge in, as they are often too well-meaning to one another to try and discredit any elf in any position, a certain topic has been discussed with great interest in the elven courts. Elven lords and ladies whisper of the young queen's seemingly romantic interest in another elven maiden, namely the oracle Millu. A curiosity, at best, as this is seldom seen among the elves, but not unheard of, or prohibited.

Name: Gumtik Bledwater
Race: Dwarf
Title: High King of the Mountain Clans
Age: 143 (relatively young for a dwarf)
Appearance: A rather extravagant looking dwarf by all means. The first some would notice would be his boisterous mane and beard of bright red colour, a distinguishing trait of clan Bledwater. His clothing often bears scorch-marks and make-shift patches of fabric are sewn onto various holes. With greasy gloves, goggles and adorned with various gadgets, one can guess at the brilliant sparkle in this dwarf's dark brown eyes that he is an avid inventor and tinkerer. An engineer among the dwarves.

Equipment: Various coats and trousers, all adorned with bandoliers and extra pockets to contain the various contraptions this ingenious inventor carries with himself at all times. The masterpiece of any dwarven engineer is his crossbow, which all apprentice tinkers must fashion by themselves. Who knows what else one might find in this one's pockets. The crown of the High King, inscribed with runes of protection and power, this mighty artifact is reserved for the greatest among the dwarves.

Bio: Clan Bledwater has a tragic history indeed. Not only have they never attained a position of power, but all their great achievements have been marked with death. Their lineage is filled with valiant dwarven warriors who've given their lives defending clan holds against invaders, engineers who've devoted their lives to some amazing theory or invention and Loremasters who've been lost in the deepest, forgotten tunnels, seeking the history of dwarvenkind. Gumtik is one hell of an exception, though. Despite his clan's grim history, he has risen among the ranks of the engineer's guild to the highest rank of Forge Master and subsequently aided in the fortification and defense of many dwarven holds and Imperial cities during the wars. These days, he's settling into his new role as the High King of the Mountain Clans, an inexperienced fellow in the art of politics, he still very much needs his advisors, but an engineer doesn't become Forge Master if he can't learn fast.

Personality: A passionate individual by any means. Gumtik is more than happy to spend days on-end crafting wood, metal or whatever comes to mind into some useful invention, be it for war or for peaceful use. An avid lover of the race of man, one could say, Gumtik developed a deep friendship with Byron Emry during his stay in the Empire, and these days, he's becoming more accepting of the elven peoples as well. Suffice it to say, he's disappointed that he'll have to stay behind in his luxurious hall, while somebody else is representing his people in a city that promises to be a vibrant place indeed.

Other: Gumtik is said to also be a lover of sweets, gleefully partaking in any traditional meal, so long as it leaves a sweet taste on his tongue. Some say he gained a few pounds after his return from Imperial Lands.

[AmazinglyVivid]

I'm currently typing up a profile for an elven representative. I'm thinking a war hero from a noble house.

[Cambyses]

You weren't kidding about a lot to read, were you?

[Alabala]

Nope, not at all. It's not that bad of a read, really, not even booklet material.

[Lord Monbodo]

I think Emry's son will do nicely for me.

- - - Updated - - -

I must say that while I followed the events of the backstory, a timeline to put events in pespective would be very welcome.

[AmazinglyVivid]

As I couldn't find very much information on the Elven Alliance in the game, I took quite a few liberties with their military and whatnot. I hope that is acceptable. If there's anything you'd like for me to change, I'd gladly do so. Also, I was a bit confused over the timing of some events. Is there any way you could do a simplified timeline of the more important ones?

Also, sorry about the length. I had intended for this sheet to be roughly half this size. My bad.

Name: Aelitae (A-leet-ah) Gysse'lyth
Race: Elf

Title: Lady Aelitae Gysse'lyth, heir to the noble House of Gysse'lyth, Knight-Commander of the Queen's Own

Age: 268

Appearance:
Standing at five foot ten, with toned muscles and a sturdy build, Aelitae can be a threatening sight on or off of the battlefield. Every movement, every step she takes, betrays an almost foolhardy confidence reserved usually for those either too young to know the dangers of the world or old enough to be one of them. Most would fit her in that latter category. Members of the house of Gysse'lyth tend to have skin that borders between a creamy peach shade and porcelain white, with Aelitae's fair skin being about as tan as they come. Even her countless hours spent outside have done little to darken her complexion. Despite the natural quality of skin that most elves are born with, Aelitae's is not something to be admired. Most of her body is marred with the scars that tell of a life spent at war. Among her scars, the most notable are a partially healed gash stretching from her right temple to her left jawbone, and a burn that covers much of her upper back and shoulders. She wears them all proudly, as physical proof of her loyalty to her people and to the crown.

A knight to her very core, Aelitae will only go without her armor when strictly necessary. When she does, though, her figure can come as something of a surprise. Though her build is strong, armor or no, she also has long legs, womanly hips, and a chest that usually requires binding, lest it get in the way. On those occasions when she is not in her platemail, she tends towards simpler outfits of elven leather, their fine quality being the only indicator to her family's wealth. Her long mane of hair -a deep crimson in color, threaded through with strands of gold and reds of a more orange hue- is generally worn in a braid, with how tight and how intricate it is varying by situation.

Though she is hardly a beauty to be praised by poets and bards, Aelitae is at least interesting to look on. Along with her scars, she has features as sharp as the blade she wields. Her red lips are generally pulled down into a scowl, when she is angry or annoyed, or pressed into a tight line, when she is deep in thought. When she smiles it is like she is a different person, but that will only happen on two occasions; when she is the midst of battle, in which case it will be a grin bordering on predatory, or when she is having a particularly good time with one of the few who she regards as a friend, in which case it will be fleeting at best. Her eyes are some mix between gold and amber, comparable in color to a glass of whiskey. They are also a very good indicator as to her current state of mind; in fact, she generally has a very poor time of keeping her emotion from her face. Another reason why she is more suited for the battlefield than the ballroom.


Equipment:
Armor- The armor worn by the knights of the Queen's Own is specially made for each individual. They are designed with protection, ease of movement, and intimidation in mind. Each piece of armor is etched with intricate designs that, upon further inspection, are actually a series of interconnected runes symbolizing strength, honor, loyalty, and all other qualities expected of a knight. As commander of the group, Aelitae's armor has the additions of the runes being lined with gold and her armor being inlaid with several of the same common stone that the queen has on her circlet.

Long Sword- Ever at Aelitae's side is her sword. It is a relatively new one, a reward from the crown for her performance during the battles at Temperance. Like most elvish weapons, it is enchanted to prevent the usual wear that would otherwise happen over time. Inlaid on the hilt are stones to match those on her armor, as well as several precious gems.

Knives- Aelitae generally carries on her two ordinary knives. One with a blade of nine inches, mostly decorative. It was a gift from her younger sister, so she does her best to wear it when possible. The other has a blade of four inches, and is generally tucked away in her boot. She isn't the best at fighting with knives and she has little talent in throwing them, but she likes to keep them both with her for her own reasons.

Bow- Despite her inability to shoot with any real accuracy, Aelitae always carries a bow with her into battle. It is a standard issue bow for members of the Queen's Own, and thus of excellent quality. Note that this is the only weapon she will elect not to carry when possible.

Warhorse- Almost six feet at the shoulder, the dappled stallion Aelitae refers to simply as 'Horse' is a magnificent beast indeed. He is very hard to spook in battle, but unfortunately has a mind of his own and can be very obstinate at times. When going into battle the horse is generally armored. When out of it, he often carries Aelitae's traveling packs. In these packs are a few essentials; a bedroll, a wineskin, a change of clothing, etc.


Biography:
Among the more notable of the elven houses is that of Gysse'lyth. It is among the more wealthy and, while its influence has declined a bit over the centuries, it remains among the more respected. Historically speaking, its main influence on elven society has been the powerful mages it has produced for as long as it has existed. A good amount of the more prominent mages in elven history have been of the house. Very, very many have existed outside of it, and many members have been born with only the slightest bit of magic in them at all, but it is simply something that they are known for.

The most recent head of the family is one Jarvanna Gysse'lyth, a powerful mage who trained young elves in magic so that they may protect their people. Her late husband is Uthavel Gysse'lyth, a talented healer who generally busied himself with running the household. The two were married from a very young age, but both would be over four hundred before either had any desire for children. It was another fifty years before Jarvanna was with child. The pregnancy was a difficult one, for good reason; when she was several months along, they realized that she was having not one but two children.

She was in labor for almost a full day before giving birth to two young girls. The first came easily enough, but she was kicking and screaming from the moment that her near golden eyes locked with her father's. The second child was a different matter entirely. She was a deathly pale, and did not cry. The only sound she ever seemed to make was the occasional weak mewing. No one expected this second child, with her sad silver eyes and frail body, to survive. But survive she did.

Aelitae was her sister's elder by only ten minutes. But she was fiercely protective of young Nyonna all the same. Where you saw one, you always saw the other. They were very different, even as children, but that did nothing to hamper their strong relationship. When Aelitae wanted to go tromping through the forest, Nyonna would always stumble after her, and when Nyonna was too sick to rise from bed, Aelitae was ever at her side, speaking to her softly and fetching her anything she asked. Nyonna strengthened as they aged, a fact that Aelitae met with unbridled joy. But everything changed soon after they hit adolescence.

Both received, for the most part, the same lessons. While Aelitae performed better in all things physical and military related, Nyonna excelled at academics, particularly theoretical magic, the only magic they were allowed to learn as young children. Both girls were usually very good about accepting their limitations in those subjects that they had little interest in anyways. After adolescence, their mother began to teach them real magic. Not history, not theory, but real magic. Nyonna took to it well; it soon became apparent that she was an absolute prodigy. And, as in all things, Aelitae was her sister's direct opposite. In fact, she seemed to be one of the few members of the Gysse'lyth household born with no magic whatsoever.

It killed her. For nearly twenty years, she tried and tried to learn the art of manipulation. As time went on, her mother labeled her hopeless, eventually focusing her attentions exclusively on nurturing Nyonna's rapidly maturing talent. After her mother gave up on her, Aelitae's father tried teaching her for a time, but his trip to visit his sister's home turned deadly after a bandit attack on his caravan. For a while, Aelitae was very lost. Though she had very little interest in magic itself, she had no idea how she could be the Gysse'lyth heir without it. What interested her most was swordplay, but it would surely be irresponsible of her to put her life in jeopardy by going to war.

If only because it was all that she seemed to be good at, Aelitae continued her lessons in swordplay, riding, combat, and military tactics. It was uncommon for a noble parent to allow the heir of the family to pursue such a path, but her mother had made it clear who her priority was. At first, her mother's indifference made Aelitae feel lonely and worthless. However, those feelings soon turned to anger. This anger only fueled her in her training. She mastered the use of swords of all sizes, hand to hand combat, and learned strategy at a rate that shocked her tutors in other subjects. At the age of ninety, with the mentality of a very young adult, she approached her mother and declared her interest in becoming a knight. They reached a mostly unspoken conclusion that, if she did so, she would be heir only in name. Feeling that this was already the case, Aelitae accepted this condition and was shipped off to the castle to begin her knight's training.

Most other young elves sent forth to become knights were nobility, like her. Unlike her, most were second or third children. She rose above her peers in sword combat and hand to hand combat, and rode with the very best of them. These successes made her failures all the more prominent. She was the very worst among her fellow trainees when it came to archery, and despite her efforts she has scarcely improved to a sub par level of skill, annoying her greatly. Then, there was of course magic, a skill that she would come to find was almost expected of a knight-in-training. She worked in the areas even though she knew that she simply had no skill at them, and worked even harder to improve those that she knew she could.

Her training lasted for a good twenty years before she and her fellows were knighted. Most were given smaller groups of soldiers, sent to patrol the borders of their territories until called back for war. But Aelitae and three others were offered membership to the Queen's Own, an elite group of some thirty knights whose leader reported to the elven queen herself. This group could mobilize much more quickly than a normal calvary group, and had a variety of functions. Sometimes they were the Queen's personal guard, sometimes they were sent to handle conflicts too large for closer but less skilled groups to handle. And sometimes they were sent along with the normal army, providing assistance and raising morale by rallying the troops.

For much of her time with the group, they handled smaller missions. Fighting wild elves who attacked their settlements, groups of demons lost from the main hordes who entertained themselves by pillaging the land. But them came the oracle, confusion, war. Aelitae took her vow of loyalty to the queen very seriously, as did the rest of the knights of the Own, and they did not question their orders when they were sent against races they had been at peace with for generations. First they were sent against the dwarves, going to each city after the initial waves to squash any further resistance. It was the last Knight-Commander of the Own, one Terhel Dryearee, who struck the final blow against the dwarven queen. Soon after that battle, the Queen's Own were ordered to ride for Temperance.

The seige started soon after their arrival. By this time Aelitae was the second in command of the group. For three months the Own tested various methods of getting past the city's walls, when it was finally the normal army who broke through by sheer force. The city was theirs. On this last day of battle Terhel was fallen by the arrow of a dwarf, getting revenge for the death of the queen. Aelitae took his place as the Knight-Commander. An uneasy peace had returned, and the Own busied themselves in the following months with patrolling the city and its surrounding areas. It was a very stressful time for all who lived within the city's walls. Every day, they expected retaliation, someone to take the city back by force. Aelitae was almost glad when their queen sounded the retreat.

As it was part of her duties to attend audiences with the Queen when possible, Aelitae was the first to hear of the new treaties being forged. However, it still came as a surprise when the Queen revealed her plans to send the Own to the new city to add to its new joint guard, as a sign of goodwill. She also told Aelitae that she would be on this city's new council, her reasons being Aelitae's unquestionable loyalty to her people, her knowledge of the city, and her military history that even their old enemies would have to respect. Though she had never seen herself as the politician sort, Aelitae did as she was bid, and readied herself to ride with her knights and the other representative to what would be their new home.


Personality:
Aelitae views herself as, first and foremost, a knight. She strives towards the virtues that she swore to uphold that day, so long ago. Patience, humility, loyalty, perseverance. Some she near embodies. Others, not so much. Those who know her personally know that she is easily annoyed and has a temper that can damn near take hold of her. Many smaller things get on her nerves; from smaller actions of her doing, such as missing a parry when sparring, to bigger things, like one of her men doing something that she views as terribly stupid. Her full anger is a bit harder to provoke, but there are a few things that get her almost every time. Mentioning her lack of ability in magic or archery, for one. She will also not tolerate any insults towards her Queen or towards her race. She is very proud of her elvish heritage, and can border on racist when around dwarves or humans. This is one aspect in which her experience in war does not help.

Humility is another trait she can have trouble with. While she lacks talent in many areas, those she does do well in she is usually at master level, and it is those traits she seems to place her focus on. She has a problem when it comes to her pride in her own abilities, to the point that she has nearly lost life and limb from underestimating worthy opponents in battle. These experiences have done nothing to change her attitude. Those who are familiar with her generally arrogant persona would be surprised to learn of the insecurities she does have, but they most certainly exist. If someone notices and comments on these insecurities, she'll generally cover them up with a boast rather than actually talk about them.

Despite her flaws and the sometimes questionable things she's done while at war, Aelitae is, at her core, a good enough person. She honestly cares for her men and her people, and she's risked her life more than once to help innocents to belong to neither group. Though she can be brash and aggressive, speaking to her in a calm situation reveals that she can be a very agreeable person. All she wants at this point is to serve well on this new council, so that she may do her Queen and the Alliance proud.

Other: None at the moment.

[Alabala]

The only thing I can say thus far, Vivid is: What the hell was the queen thinking..?

The game doesn't provide you a lot of lore or walls of text to read, but it expect you to "get it" , what the military of each race and whatnot is like, by the kinds of units they have. For example - The Holy Empire are good all-rounders, but they have an extensive tree of cavalry units, with their Leader or Hero units being Pegasus Knights, Archmages and the like.

The Elves, however, only have "knights" in the way that Aelitae would be as their Leader units, the rest is a lot of mages and predominantly archers, with centaurs being the cavalry.

You might've guessed it, the Mountain Clans have a lot of melee units. I mean tons. And they all look like miniature vikings.

With all that being said, the character is accepted, even if she's probably going to be one heck of a loose cannon. Must be some of that wild-elf business rubbed off on her, eh?

- - - Updated - - -

As for a timeline, I'll be posting it as an edit under the wall o' text. On that note, however, because I'm a bit of a noob, might somebody be able to tell me how to make one of those "Spoiler" tabs, like what you've done with your CS, Vivid. Would make all this seem less daunting...and huge.

In my opinion, though a timeline would not be necessary...and I'll probably make it something huge, well...for a timeline, anyway. But if you insist, I'll make one, but I really need that "Spoiler" thing first.

[Lord Monbodo]

I'm mostly concerned with more recent events. I need to know how much time passed between the latest threats and how much of them one of Emry's sons would have lived through.

- - - Updated - - -

You can use [ HIDER ] [ /HIDER ] with the spaces removed to make a spoiler tab. To give it a name I think you put = and the name inside the first bracket.

[Alabala]

Well, there's plenty of stuff that's happened outside of what's listed in the lore, but I figure it'll be more exciting to find out about it during the course of the game. Now - here's as simple as it gets in recent events.

Year 0 - The Great War. This is when a rift opened and demons started attacking as well as when Mortis first sent her undead against the dwarves.

Year 10 AGW (After the Great War) - This is when Uther was found, subsequently killed by Byron Emry, also when the dwarves survived Ragnorok and killed the ancient serpent monster Niddhog and lastly, it's when Mortis revived Gallean whilst her undead were shambling toward the elves.

Year 14 AGW - Byron Emry, Duchess Ambrielle and Flamel Crowly are in conflict over the fate of the Imperial Throne. The dwarves are attempting to open a portal to speak with their deity Wotan. Mortis is plotting to destroy the elven race after being rejected by Gallean.

Year 15 AGW - The dwarves open a portal, Mortis launches yet another attack against the elves, corrupt Gallean's prophet, destroy several ancient elven cities, which drives Gallean mad and he steps out of the dwarves' portal, slaughtering dwarves, men , elves and undead in his wake. He then flees from mortal lands, changed forever. The elves split, one faction intent on rebuilding their cities, the other embracing Gallean's new feral nature as their way of life.

Year 17 AGW - The elves, guided by Millu head west, waging war against the empire and the newly crowned Emry. They take the new capitol of Temperance. The dwarves are also attacked by the elves and queen Yata'Haali is killed.

Year 18 AGW - Emry prepares to take back Temperance and finds it deserted, the dwarves recover from the war and elect their new High King. The elves retreat back to the east and begin rebuilding their cities. In the middle of the same year, the elves send messengers to the Clans and the Empire. Months later, the building of the new city begins.

Year 24 AGW - The city in its infancy is complete, the new representatives will have to make decisions as to the growth of the city, thus far it only contains minor fortifications and buildings to house the population. It's build on the borders of the territory of the Elven Alliance, the Holy Empire and the Mountain Clans. Later the same year the first settlers start their approach, with craftsmen, merchants and other investors on their way along with civilians who were left without homes during the wars and others. With these people come the representatives of each race.

EDIT: Now that the OOC's undergone a bit of a makeover, I hope to see some more CS's coming in.