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The Mystery of the Elven Kingdom

Many hundreds of years ago, the Upper race of Elves departed the lands of Man, though some among them decided to stay yet, and live amongst the most secluded and beautiful woodlands of the realms. The High Elves, as they became known, sailed into the northwest to a distant island chain where they constructed their kingdoms. For many years the Elven kingdoms and the realms of Man prospered, each trading and aiding each other in kind. For a time, both lived contentedly in industry and craftsmanship, the Elves in particular creating many great works of art, architecture and weaponry. It was as their works progressed, with each Elven artist, designer or smith straining to achieve the perfection so dear to that race, that the eddying currents of magic were discovered in the realms. In one, special generation, a dozen Elves were born with skin and eyes of the purest white. Though their eldritch eyes could not see as others could, they could perceive the iridescent winds of magic flowing across the landscape and through every living being. It was once these Elves began to describe the sights they saw that some among the Elves began to investigate this unknown force, opening great tomes and unrolling new scrolls and beginning the eternal task of discovering the means and ways of using magical force.

It seemed to those few outside the Elf brethren who knew of this secretive study that their investigations into the arcane arts proceeded with unnatural haste. Though the fervent experimentation of the Elves was undoubtedly a factor, as they realised how magic could prove to be the elusive perfection they had so long sought for, still it seemed curious to outsiders that in only two generations the High Elves, and to some extent their Wood Elf kin, had been able to normalise the wide use of magic in virtually every sphere of life when such a short time before it had been an unknown force. More than one contemporary has wondered - though they have done so far from Elven ears - if the ever-manipulative energies of Havoc guided the Elven studies towards a terrible goal. It was noted, although by a pitiful few, that as the use of magic and the discovery of ever more arcane power continued at a feverish pace, it seemed to strip many Elves of the high morality that they had been known for. The old deities were abandoned for new, carnal blood-totems and the works of the Elves, though retaining their legendary elegance, became darker and more visceral, disturbing in their newfound perfection.

Some say the Elves, removed from the world's troubles, grew complacent or perhaps reliant on these magicks, some that they even degraded to worship of Havoc, though this much is known for certain. There came a time at the height of the Elven kingdom when magic was used for even the most menial task, and even blood sacrifice of livestock for good fortune and success was commonplace. It was during this time, old scribes among the Elves whisper, that the First Tyrant himself re-awoke and whispered with a deceptive tongue to those Elves that would listen. He spoke to them of the power he could grant them, the decadence he could promise them and the oceans of blood they could shed in his name. For it is rumoured that at the heart of every Elf is a dark lust for battle, almost a self-destructive nature. Of those Elves that believed his words, foremost among them almost all of the first mages and sorcerers, there were all too many.

The ancient darkness, that all thought destroyed long ago, began to seep into the civilisation of the High Elves. Rumours of Havoc covens and black rites spread like wildfire, and though the reality could not match the fears, there was at the heart of the smoke nevertheless a foul and destructive fire. The leaders of the Elves, who refused to believe the noble race of Elves could stoop to such depravity, mostly disregarded these claims, refusing to recognize what had become obvious to onlookers. Thus did the black desires unlocked first by the mages extend to the furthest reaches of the populace, as leaders and led alike ignored the danger and allowed the cults of wanton pleasure and pain to take root all across the once-glorious realm of the High Elves.

So it was that evil struck unseen, and the deadly price of complacency was to be forever proven in High Elf blood. The Elven leaders, one by one, succumbed to the spread of the vile cults and gave their sanction to the use of ever more terrible magicks. Those among them and in the populace that saw the deception were murdered before they could spread any warning. Soon blasphemous rites were being performed openly, with innocents sacrificed at the very gates of the Meridian Fortress and many of the surviving lords of the Elves leading their thrice-damned followers in mutilation and perversion. It could not be long before Elf society split apart under the weight of the evil pervading the lands, but when the cursed uprising finally came, those corrupted by its hellish cause did not find the path to power so smooth as they had hoped…

United under one banner those who had remained loyal to the old ways, the so-called humanity of the Elves, fought to save all they had built. Though their foes were bloodthirsty and fearsomely empowered by their magicks, they would not surrender to darkness.

Nobody knows how long the civil war raged for. Here the loyalists retook a fortress; there the cultists slaughtered an entire town of innocents. Though the losses on both sides were horrendous the loyalists eventually took the upper hand, storming the great Meridian Fortress and driving the highest of the traitor lords and his guard from it. Frustrated by their failure to crush the soul of the High Elves, those traitors who remained called upon the shadow of Havoc to grant them the most potent of magic to destroy the once-beautiful kingdoms of the Elves. It is said by those who remember that as the insane traitors chanted their screeching prayers, a dark wind roared down from the north, throwing Elven vessels asunder on the waves and tearing at the coastlines. It was not long before the foul energy of the hateful tempest coalesced, darkening the sky with its fury. Arcs of lightning began to strike the Elven islands, setting the landscapes afire and tumbling many buildings of the finest artifice. Earthquakes shook the land, and waves the height of temple spires dragged many coastal communities screaming into the boiling sea. Gigantic monsters surfaced, eating away at the very lands themselves. Finally, as it seemed the torment had reached its climax, the invincible Meridian Fortress itself cracked all across and crumbled, taking the heart of the loyalists with it. It seemed that this was a signal, and the storms slowly withdrew into the north. The monsters of the deep grew listless and sank once more to the murky depths. Presently the sun shone once more, and those that remained saw that it had ended, though perhaps it had taken the soul of the Elves with it.

The fate of the Elven kingdoms is unknown to the other Upper races, for no Elf will speak of it outside their own race. Certainly if they do still survive, then they will be a mere shadow of their former selves judging by the sheer scale and power of the magic released during the age known as The Time of the Dark. And as for the fate of the traitors, none knew and none know. Some thought them lost, while others claimed they had escaped to lands unknown under cover of the storms. But the existence of the depraved Elf brethren known as Dark Elves by Man, and Dravii by the High Elves, may indicate that the vile heresies perpetrated in those bygone years lives yet, festering in some unknown corner of the world, bringing misery wherever it can.

Many High Elves returned to the Nether World after the Sundering and were granted Embassies and lands inside the realms. These Elves are said to be those who lost their lands in the great battles against the Dark Elves; indeed many claim nobility or even lordship amongst their people. Fortunately for the middle realms, these refugees were at least able to prevent a similar catastrophe among the Wood Elves by educating them regarding the safe ways to use magic. Even now, they labour to control the use of magic and limit its destructive power, and have taught a few of its secrets to Man so that he might learn the value of controlling its power, instead of allowing it to control him.

So it is that the race of Elves are looked upon with a degree of mistrust; not only were they – and perhaps, still are - capable of unleashing devastating magic that is capable of decimating whole continents, but they are kin to the Dark Elves who reap a terrible harvest in the lands of men. While their protestations of regret are sincere, some know that, if such times arose again, the flawed Elf soul could destroy all good once more.