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The History of the World

It is hard to say from whence the world came; most know it only as being there, immovable, and that which has always been. The lore jealously guarded by the Council holds that a great being, one who walked in the Aethyr, created the world as an arena for the creations that emanated from his incomprehensible whims, and that soon after its creation Ia, the World Cradle in the modern tongue, was drenched in the blood that flowed in rivers from its twisted inhabitants, as they fought each other in their madness. Perhaps it was this that cursed the world. Perhaps the doom of Ia was written in the gore that soaked it to the bedrock in those times, investing it forever with a malign evil.

The tomes are less clear on the fate of the being, the First Tyrant, who set in process this dark future. Some obscure texts recount that he chose to leave, tired of the endless wars fought under his baleful eye. Others claim that his own monstrous creations cast themselves upon him in a last tide of madness, destroying him and them in a grim cataclysm. Still others assert that it was the Upper Races themselves, those who live today and built the world we know, that appeared and cast down the First Tyrant and his monsters. Regardless of the true events, what is certain is that no trace of the original being now remains in the known lands to prove or disprove any of the theories.

The fate of the last of his creations is less certain - indeed, Elven scholars in particular have many times pointed out that wars seldom claim the lives of all those involved. Fantastic tales, brought from outside the Kingdom by haggard adventurers and terrified treasure-seekers, speak of great horned beasts that roar unceasingly in the deep places, terrible unclean demons that inhabit vast, steaming lakes of polluted blood and a myriad of other bizarre creatures. As yet, no proof of these monstrosities has been provided to the Council and most ordinary people find it …convenient… to ignore or even dismiss the existence of such things while they go about their complacent lives.

The Council's history tells that the demise or departure of the First Tyrant opened the way for the Upper Races' rule of the world. None know or even claim to know the origins of the peoples. Though research into this topic is the life work of many a scholar and mage.

When the Upper Races came to the world, the creations of the First Tyrant had largely been or were at this time destroyed. What remained were driven back by the Upper races, retreated to the far north, east and south, to the deeps, and perhaps even to the Aethyr. Men, Elves, Dwarves and Halflings set foot on virgin lands which were reasonably verdant and the least scarred by the wars of the First Tyrant's creations. At this time, they were almost free of foulness, and all seemed well for many centuries.

The Upper Races colonised most of the fertile lands of Ia, spreading outwards from an unknown source they established a number of realms; some of these were built upon racial lines, like the Elven lands in the far northwest. Or the Dwarven holds dug deeply into the mountains of the land. The largest of these lands is nowadays known only as the Kingdom.

A King, or Vanguard rules the Kingdom nominally as runs the official title, but in reality power rests with the Council, the mayors, or Praefects, of the Kingdom's cities as well as other figures vital to the existence of the Kingdom such as its Chancellor and Army Commander. Though there is nominally no race, gender or age restriction for the Council, in reality each city has its own laws on who can be elected and generally the Council consists of old, rich men and a few Elves.

Wolfhold, a city near the east frontier of the Kingdom was built many centuries ago, and ever since then has provided a haven for the glut of rogues and adventurers that cluster over the uncharted places of the world, in search of wealth, fame and glory. Although maps accord Wolfhold as possessing sovereignty of the lands to its east and north in the Kingdom's name, in reality these are largely empty for a hundred miles or more and are populated by much the same kind of beasts that plague the Kingdom from beyond its borders. Few villages survive in this frontier area unscathed, with the shadow of dark mountains to the north and shadowy forests to the east. Attempts at furthering this frontier have failed, Human cities, Elven Enclaves, and Dwarven deeps have all fallen to the enemy. Wolfhold has in many ways survived in spite of the odds; its very existence has been threatened many times, and its future at many times in the past, has been assured only by the great legends and heroes which seem to flock to Wolfhold, writing ever more pages in the Kingdom's glorious history with their magnificent deeds of bravery and perseverance!

 

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