The Lost Ages - Myths and Legends

Life ever seeks to understand its roots. Every civilization has its own interpretation of where that story began, and different cultures have creation myths that eventually converge with history. There is no universally accepted story, but even so the ancient city of Seraphel on the floating island of the same name in the middle of the Dividing Ocean, is largely considered to be the oldest surviving city, having endured a terrible war that wiped out most of civilization nearly five thousand years ago. Seraphel houses the oldest known temples to the gods, as well as the earliest known records of hisotry that have survived from the earliest days.

The most widely accepted tale of Tyrind's origin is the tale of the Time Before Time.

The Time Before Time
In the beginning, there were Two: Creation and her brother, Destruction. Creation was of grace, light, warmth, and life. Destruction, was of mischief, darkness, cold, and entropy. As was in her nature, Creation's joy was in bringing forth new works and in beginnings. Countless wonders and beautiful works were brought forth from the endless expanse of the void. And, each time, Destruction would look upon her works and destroy them.

Long had they been at odds; longer than either could remember. For every beautiful song Creation would introduce, Destruction would shatter the harmonies. Seeing her works so shattered, that into which she poured so much tender love and grace, was heartbreaking. But for each time Destruction would bring things crashing down, his sister would make something even more splendid and grand and beautiful, and every time it would fill him with wrath.

In time Creation would bring forth her greatest work: the foundations of the multiverse as we know it. Song and light and warmth would blend and weave into existence, brimming with potential. Of course Destruction lashed out against it, but this time Creation was ready. The two would clash and Creation bound him with chains of possibility and bound him in a prison beyond existence. To ensure her brother was locked away for all time, she turned herself into the lock for that cage. But once more, Creation had planned for this.

In her final act, Creation brought forth her children to watch over All That Was. To each of them was given control over a particular aspect of creation; a fragment of her power. With it, the gods were tasked with shaping and caring for the foundations she had laid out; for filling it with life and light and song, and repairing the damage to her harmonious perfections that Destruction had wrought; in the wake of Destruction's imprisonment, the world was equal parts beautiful serenity and tumultuous, chaotic forces. They were dutiful children.

The Forming
Through the ashen skies of All That Was, the gods came from beyond the ether, new and formless. Looking upon their mother's work, they saw the potential for great beauty, great strength, and the chance to learn their own place in All That Was. Divine hands shaped the world according to their own talents and plans. The Allhammer shaped the mountains, the Dawnfather lit the sky in the day and breathed the clouds into the sky. The Stormlord brought the rains and lightning and thunder, bestowing strength to the earth and to the stone. The Green Shepherd grew the trees and formed the beasts from the earth, while the Music Maker taught the wind and the brooks and the birds how to sing. The Lawbringer set an order to everything; the seasons, day and night, up and down. The Moonweaver provided the comforting light of the moon, shaped the shadows, and with her kiss painted the flowers and gave beauty to the wild places of the world. The Traveler brought the stars into the dark skies.

And in this way, each god brought their skill and power, and cooperated toward their goal. Their final act was to raise the towers of the gods around the Pillar of Eternity, founding the golden city of Seraphel, which would be the home of the gods for millennia. From their new home, the gods looked out upon their work and were pleased.

The Dawn Era - The First Age
With the rising of the sun came the first day, marking the beginning of the Dawn Era. With the rising of the sun came the greatest works of the gods--mortals.

The Elves - Firstborn of the Gods
The first age of the world came with it the awakening of the First Children of the gods; the elves. They embodied beauty and grace, and walked in both the world of spirit and of matter. They first awoke in the Fields of Isilmë, in the heart of the forests of Illan near the Bay of Cuivië. They awoke in the night, gazing upon the moon and the stars, and they raised their voices in song. They lived in secluded joy, dancing beneath the boughs of the forest. It is unknown exactly how much time passed before the Archeart came to them.

The deity, who was their creator, spoke to them with a voice like silver starlight. With them was the Wildmother and the Moonweaver, and the elves were struck with awe. The elves learned from them language and the Archeart invited them back to Seraphel with them. While many of the elves were eager to follow them, a third of their number did not wish to leave their forest home. They would remain behind when the Archeart led the others westward, where they would spend their days among the verdant green, teaching the trees to talk and running with the beasts of the forest.

So it was that the elves who traveled westward would live among the gods in Seraphel and were called the High Elves (or Noldori). Those who remained were called the Wood Elves (Sindari).

The Dwarves - Secondborn of the Gods
Around the same time, deep beneath the earth, a second creation was wrought, this time by the Allhammer. He forged them upon the Anvil of Creation, from the same stuff as the mountains. He called them Dwarva, and they were hearty, stocky folk who he taught the secrets of shaping metal and stone. But the Allhammer did not lead them to freedom; the strongest metal must be tempered and stressed and shaped to fulfill its potential, and he knew, too, that his children would have to do the same. So began the long and arduous Quest for the Sky. The dwarva explored and mined, discovering abominations and many other terrible things. But they overcame and they learned, with each generation growing stronger and more resilient and more courageous than the last. Finally, they reached the freedom of the surface upon a series of rocky, stony islands. There were seven clans then--the Longbeards, the Firebrands, the Broadbeams, the Stiffbeards, the Blacklocks, the Stonefoots, and the Hammerhands. They crafted sturdy boats and bickered long over where to sail. With time, they reached the decision to go their separate ways as drawn by "their longings".


 * The Longbeards, the Firebrands, and the Hammerhands sailed to the north. They found a land that was cold and rugged and came into conflict with the    elves who lived there. This land would be known as Dharrenal. These three clans eventually became known as the Mountain Dwarves.
 * The Broadbeams and Stonefoots sailed to the west, finding a land that was warm and sunny, with mountains rich in gold and silver. They made contact with the humans who lived there (see below), known as the Rothi. This land would come to be known as Eleroth, and these two clans known as Hill Dwarves, also called Gold Dwarves.
 * The Blacklocks and Stiffbeards left with one each other, also, and found a wide land that was lush and green, and filled with strange floating islands and strange magic that resulted in unique flora and fauna. The Blacklocks would settle in the mountains and hills near the shore, while the Stiffbeards traveled south to the dense jungles of the peninsula and islands there. This land would one day become known as Maezar, and the Blacklocks would come to be known as Dream Dwarves, and the Stiffbeards known as the Wild Dwarves. Tragedy was in store for both clans.

The Humans - The Thirdborn of the Gods
A third race there was, too. They were endowed with hearts and passions that burned as brightly as their lifespans were short. They were filled with ambition and curiosity, and they were diverse and quickly traveled the known world to settle the lands they found.

While many human tribes are known to exist today, the five knoqwn tribes (or ethnicities) of humans that existed in those days are:


 * Andals: The group of humans native to the Dharrenal. They tend to be light skinned with thick, fair colored hair. The tallest of the human tribes.
 * Keleshite: The group of humans native to Maezar. They have medium to dark tan skin with dark hair and eyes.
 * Rothi: The group of humans native to Eleroth. They often have fair to tan skin with dark hair. They are the second tallest of the human tribes.
 * Tian: The group of humans native to Zhao-Tian. They have dark hair and bright eyes, and were a nomadic, nature-oriented people.
 * Urundi: The group of humans native to Casmaron. They have dark hair and eyes and were a very spiritual, shamanistic people.

The Golden Age
The children of Creation walked the land and, as their knowledge grew, they attempted to expand it. But the world was treacherous, and the children looked to their creators for guidance and protection. So the gods gave them gifts, lending their own power to their children to create and shape the world around them--the first clerics and druids.

With these magics, the various people learned to bend the angry earth to their will; to temper the flames that burst through the ground, to tame the floods that threatened their abundance, and to turn seedling into fruit. Language became commonplace, culture was born, and governance replaced anarchy. The beginning of civilization was tumultuous but contained many great strides. As culture grew, and the people further understood the world around them, they also looked to their creators and gave worship, gave them title and greater purpose. In turn, the connection between gods and mortals grew stronger. Human civilizations rose and fell, the greatest of which were the lost empire of Volantis and the realm of Theros, and in distant Maezar was the great walled city of Huzuz. Volantis is thought to have been the birthplace of the first human tribes and human civilization itself, and was lost beneath the waves after an unknown cataclysm. Theros was found along the eastern shores of Dharrenal. This ancient society of philosophers, builders, and heroes' deeds are still told today in tales and myths. From Cersus the Brave and his battles with the Hydra and Medusa; Herklano the Mighty and his Thirteen Labors; Jayson the Bold and his band of adventurers as they sought the Golden Apples to save their people from a deadly plague.

Across the world in the distant lands of the mysterious Maezar stood the mighty, blue walls of Huzuz, a city of resplendent wonders. In those ancient days it was considered a city that could rival the splendor of Seraphel itself. Scholars and science and medicine began here, in one of the oldest cities in the modern world. Art, culture, advancements in science, mathematics, and magic were done here that would change the world. In Zhao-Tian, the riders of the northern steppes thundered across land atop their eight-legged, striped steeds.

The dwarves began to build and shape their surface fortresses called the Sky Citadela. They were isolated for much of this time, mining and occasionally warring with the elves. The Blacklock dwarves in Maezar were discovering the secrets of harnessing magical power and binding it to objects.

But it was the elves who were the mightiest, the wisest, and most powerful of the civilizations across the known world. The noble high elves studied at the feet of the gods themselves, learning much about the workings of the universe. To them, and to them alone, was given the gift of making and unmaking; arcane magic, taught to them by the Archeart. Countless tales and songs tell the deeds and great works of the elves of the Golden Age. They became explorers, traveling across the world seeking knowledge. They would settle in Eleroth, in Maezar, and even in distant Zhao-Tian, where they taught the humans there about language, music, and archery.

Below are some of the great stories and sagas of the Dawn Era.

The Girl Who Sang to the Forest
Legend told of a girl from a small village in the shadows of the Katol Mountains who had a voice so fair it could move the skies to rain. When her father fell ill, she left her village in an effort to find someone who could help him. She went through a series of adventures and helped a number of creatures she encountered, until at last she met the Lord of the Forest; an elven king who had sank into a deep depression after the deaths of his former queen and children.

He did not want to help the poor girl, who appealed to the elf king with a song. So moved was he that he appealed to the Archeart directly to save the girl’s father. The king married her and was so smitten that he gathered his vassals, the animals and the metals and the stone and the trees, and made them swear an oath to never harm her. Only yew refused.

Time had passed and the Girl had was the forest’s beloved queen. One day, while treating a stag who had been shot with a yew arrow, she was pricked by a splinter of yew and fell into an endless sleep. The elven king lamented, and the vibrant greens of summer faded and the leaves withered and fell to the ground. The land grew as cold as his heart, leading to the first autumn and winter.

Even today, the land remembers.

The War of Wood and Stone
When the dwarves first arrived on the shores of Dharrenal, they were confronted by curious and suspicious elves, who had long dwelled in those lands without care or worry. Talks quickly soured and resulted in the dwarves massacring the elven messengers. The dwarves were wary of the elves and were determined not to be sent back beneath the earth. The elves back in Illan were furious. For the first time in Dharrenal, the horns of war sounded.

The War of Wood and Stone does not refer to a single war, but instead a series of conflicts over the course of several centuries. The dwarves hold long grudges and the elves, when pushed to battle, are relentless in their pursuit. These sporadic conflicts lasted between months to decades between incidents. Other major events that occurred during this time, such as the Kin War or the Dark Flood (see below) occurred during lulls in activity between the fighting in this series of conflicts.

The Kin War
There were two great clans of elves in Illan in those days: the Anar and the Isil. The Anar were fair of skin and dark of hair, and the Isil were of ashen skin with hair the color of starlight. Both had remained behind when the Noldor had departed from Dharrenal with the Archeart, and both were known as wood elves. Each chief was given a necklace of glowing white gems called the Eyes of Correllon, for even though they chose to remain the necklaces symbolized the promise that they were still the children of the Archeart, and would be under their protection. Unknown to even the gods, the primordial known now as the Spider Queen had begun to whisper to Leylas, chief of the Isil. She was plagued with terrible dreams of horrors beyond the black of night; a coming destruction that would ravage the world. She saw mountains bursting to flames, entire continents collapsing into the sea. A coming shadow that would eat the sun and the moon both. Troubled, she went to Turin, chief of the Anar, in the waning months of autumn and told him of her visions. Turin was righteous and powerful and good. He prayed to the Archeart, who assured both of the chiefs that no harm or destruction would befall them so long as the gods yet existed. The gods were steadfast in their love and power, and if they but had faith, there was no storm they could not weather together.

So it was that Turin was relieved and put his faith in the gods. But Leylas grew bitter and paranoid, wary of both the gods and of her kin. The Isil began to hide from the gods, using their magics to bind regions to protect them from both the light of Pelor and the Moonweaver. When Leylas was given a vision of the Archeart teaching the high elves secret magics, she grew furious. The gods had lied! They knew of an impending disaster and were preparing their favored to survive it.

Leylas roused the Isil, who had all been touched by the Spider Queen’s whispers, and met with the Anar. There, under the light of the full moon, Leylas and the Isil turned away from the gods. Turin grew fearful and angry, and he tried to convince her to repent. But Leylas would not be swayed, and in a moment of anger she slew him there in that holy place. The battle that followed would come to be known as the Kinslaying. The son of Turin, Taiken the Green, stirred the Anar to avenge their fallen brethren.

However, the Archeart would appear to the Anar and told them that justice would be theirs. The Anar should remain faithful and trust that the will of the gods would be done. Taiken refused to listen and he gathered his sons, and all swore upon both sun and moon that the Isil would pay for their sins. Thus marked the beginning of the Kin War.

At that time, Leylas led her people east, away from Illan. As they left those ancient forests, the Archeart appeared to them with terrible anger. They laid a curse upon the Isil and for spilling the blood of the Anar called them Drowa—traitors. Ever would the sun burn their flesh and never would they be able to return to the Emerald Expanse without falling into madness and despair. Leylas spit at the feet of the Archeart and said, “If we cannot walk in the light of the sun, then we will be the Moon Elves. Begone and good riddance.” The Isil would settle in the valleys at the feet of the Katol Mountains in the east, where their magics would shield the entire kingdom from the sun, turning their land into a realm of eternal night. They called their new home Xandir. They would turn their backs on the gods entirely and they would curse the name of the Archeart and turned their worship to the Spider Queen alone.

Hearing the tales of the Kinslaying, a number of the Noldor turned their eyes and hearts back to the land of their awakening and wished to join the Anar in their campaign. All but 10% of their number would leave the golden city and sail east in their swift, silver boats. Those who remained were called Eladrin, “the faithful”.

The Noldor were accepted with gratitude and song. The Noldor used the magic taught to them by the Archeart and from the branches and the earth itself wove the stunning city of Tir Na’Lia in the forests of Illan, which would become the center of elven culture. From the Emerald Expanse, the elves would march on Xandir. Many battles were fought in those darkened lands, lit only by the artificial moons and glowing insects. The Kin War would last one hundred years and ten days, until the battle known as The Harvest of Sorrow; Taiken would meet Leylas on the field of battle. Tales tell of their ten day battle, of singing steel and driving rain, of courage and strength and power untold. Each would slay the other and only a tenth of the elves who took the field would ever leave it.

The daughter of Leylas, Brigid, would return the Eye of Correllon to the Anar. Overnight it seemed the massive Walls of the Moon raised and surrounded Xandir, sealing it from the rest of the world for a thousand years. Though the war was over, the animosity and the wounds remained and fester to this day.

Despite that, the realms finally grew quiet and the future looked promising. But the storm that Leylas saw so long ago was still coming.

Volantis, the Lost Empire
Volantis is a lost continent in the Caedian Ocean that was the first center of human culture, and some say the birthplace of humanity. They were once warring tribes that were brought together by the warrior-king Konad Volant. Human culture began to grow by leaps and bounds, and was said to rival that of the elves. They discovered their own type of magic, which they called Rune Magic. This rune magic seems to be a variant of the same practices used by the dwarves even today, though scholars agree they are different methods of spellcasting. Essentially, dwarven rune magic binds magical energies to objects, creating wondrous items.

The rune magic used by the Volanti, however, seems to have been stones and jewelry that allowed them to channel magic directly. This allowed them to cast spells in a limited capacity, even before such secrets were taught to them by the gods. Legends state that the Volanti people discovered this by themselves, leading the gods growing jealous. Others say that the Knowing Lord actually taught Volanti mystics, while others say that it was the Primordials who first whispered this knowledge to Volantis in an effort to corrupt the humans and cause strife against the gods.

As centuries passed, the Volanti Exarchs—the arrogant leaders of the great society—began to think of themselves as superior to the gods and, it is said, began to build the Tower of Ascension—a massive structure built around the Starstone, a stone that fell from the heavens that was said to harbor the power of creation itself. Their aim was to use the Tower of Ascension to pierce the heavens and become gods themselves.

It is said that the gods tried to reason with them, but the Volanti spurned them. Their hearts had turned wicked and arrogant. What followed is not clear; some say the gods sought retribution by causing the Tower of Ascension to topple and the sea to swell and swallow the island whole. Others claim a volcano erupted, an event that was so powerful and catastrophic that the island split in two, caught fire, and sank after a century and a half long eruption period. Others still the elves conspired and, out of jealousy, used their magics to sink Volantis.

Whatever the cause, all that remains now of the once-mighty continent are a string of islands and atolls spread across a large swath of the Caedian Ocean, east of Dharrenal.

Theros
The ancient human empire of Theros was at its height during the First Age, and occupies much of what is now the Eastern Plains and the Lucain Coast. Much of what is known of Theros comes from the ancient poems and accounts from the elves of the time that survive. While its power was great, struggles for control were near constant, and it was destroyed during the Dawn War. All that remains now are mysterious ruins scattered throughout its former territories.

Theros was founded by the benevolent King Zin, who first harnessed the power of rune magic. He had been exiled by the mystics who ruled the nation of Volantis for promoting the belief that the Volanti should cooperate and learn from the nonhuman races (such as elves and dwarves). He and his followers left Volantis and traveled to the distant shores of a land they called Shoant, on the eastern side of what is now Dharrenal.

Though the exact dates from this time are hard to gauge with any degree of accuracy, it is believed that Zin founded the city of Heleth approximately four hundred years before the Kin War (see below). As the size of the nation grew, Zin divided Theros into seven fiefdoms and entrusted his viziers to rule them in his stead. Each of these viziers could harness the power of rune magic, and were guided in their rule by one of the Volanti Virtues of Rule; they became known as the Runelords.

The elves and dwarves met with Theros during the War of Wood and Stone, and while the throne would not officially take a side in the conflict, mercenary companies happily lent their spears to both elves and dwarves. This gave humans a reputation for being changeable, ambitious, greedy, and unreliable. When Volantis sank, hundreds of refugees were taken in by Theros and given asylum. The refugees brought with them knowledge, riches, universities, culture, and even new technologies, such as smelting iron (as opposed to the bronze weapons wielded by most humans in those days). Theros grew stronger and more influential, becoming known as the center of human culture within a generation.

As the generations passed, the influence of Zin’s bloodline waned and his ideals were pushed aside, making way for the villainy of the sinful Runelords. Who gained absolute power over their territories, effectively making Theros a collection of seven great city-states. However, while Theros society reached great heights, it did so on the backs of its people.

Eventually, the Runelords would depose of Zin’s bloodline altogether. Under the leadership of the Runelords, the nation fell into decadence and cruelty for hundreds of years. They enslaved ogres to create cyclopean cities and monuments to themselves, and bled the coffers dry. When the Primordials rose and began to spread destruction and chaos across the planet, Theros was already on its last legs, and likely would not have lasted much longer even if that catastrophic event hadn’t occurred.

Each of the Runelords were said to have foreseen the doom, making various preparations to survive the apocalypse that claimed so many. Many different accounts exist of what this means; some say they dug below the earth, into the Underdark, where they infected that lightless place with their evil, maybe even becoming the first Illithids. Others say they created portals to other plans of existence, and others still claim that they crafted bunkers for themselves and their vast riches.

Whatever the truth, what IS known is that by the time Dawn War came to an end, Theros was little more than a smoking tomb.

The Dark Flood
The dwarves did more than dig and war with elves during the first age. When they had first arrived in Dharrenal, they had only finished their exodus from the deep places of the world less than a quarter century before. In order to make a mark upon their newfound home and establish a lasting dwarven presence, they built the ten Sky Citadels—massive fortified cities and astonishing feats of engineering. They were ornately decorated, and contained countless murals and depictions of the Quest for the Sky. These cities were made exclusively of stone, with the centuries slightly wearing away their splendor.

The ten Sky Citadels were the pinnacle of dwarven engineering in the first age, possessing the finest craftsmen and warriors found anywhere in Tyrind. They began to dig subterranean highways; mazelike passages and tunnels to connect their fortresses in the event of war or emergency. These would later be fortified and expanded into the Deep Roads during the Second Age.

As the first age went on, the dwarves began to sense the first stirrings of the primordials awakening, though they did not understand what it truly was at first. Six hundred years after the Kin War, a series of natural disasters rocked Dharrenal, which affected the dwarf sky citadels due to their proximity to mountains and fault lines. In the wake of these disasters, the dwarves were left vulnerable. They were ready for elves, but not for what came. A series of invasions followed; a disjointed series of battles that the Dwarves now call the Dark Flood. The most numerous of these enemies were goblins and orcs, although orges, skaven, trolls, and evil humans were also counted among their foes.

The attacks began before the last of the aftershocks had finished. Enemies began to infiltrate through unguarded tunnels, overwhelming the few outposts with surprise attacks and swept out of darksome valley forests in number untold. Previously, the sky citadels had been impervious, regardless of their invader’s numbers. Elf, human, and orc alike had broken their spears against dwarven engineering. However, to their horror, the dwarves began to realize this was no longer the case.

Defensive walls and towers were toppled and the lower reaches of the cities left hopelessly compromised by innumerable pits and gaping chasms. Their trade routes and underground highways now lay unguarded, the former bastions of dwarven might becoming piles of broken stones. Massive, rune-covered iron gates hung off their hinged or bent and warped. Upon sensing this new vulnerability, more foes hungry for plunder appeared like wolves at the door. During these troubled times, contact between the beleagued strongholds was lost and far-flung mining outposts were on their own. The dwarven realm was reduced to isolated islands, each surrounded by a churning sea of enemies. This harsh new reality changed the nature of the dwarves forever.

Across northern Dharrenal, the attacks were so numerous that even the meticulous record-keeping of the dwarves couldn’t keep up. Columns of smoke rose high above snow-covered peaks, each marking the destruction of another settlement or mine. Desperate refugees, escaping from shattered holds or lost mines, attempted to cross through winding mountain passages, leading to further tragedies befalling them; the by ways were full of peril, such as hunting packs of wolf-riding goblins, mobs of hungry trolls, and all manner of beasts drawn to the scent of blood. Those who attempted to traverse the underground passages found they were also partially collapsed and full of peril; giant spiders, goblins, orcs, and nameless nightmares that had crawled up from the Underdark. Whole sections of these roads were being fought over by goblins, orcs, and skaven. During these dark times, the desecration of sacred tombs and the eradication of ancient clans sent many dwarves mad with rage and shame.

Here and there, knots of dwarf warriors stood back to back and attempted to hold back the onslaught. But each time they met with defeat. Following the loss of Kel-Emvor, High King Durgan Ironbeard himself fell in battle, leaving his only son, Nurn Ironbeard, to figure out a way to save his people. He prayed to the Allhammer, who gave him a vision—a vast underground city. The mountains itself would be the city’s walls, providing a place of safety and bastion against the Dark Flood. He immediately began work on bringing his vision to life, and in only sixteen years had constructed Tar Taargadth; the first thaig.

The word of safety for the dwarves spread like wildfire. They emigrated en masse to the mountain city, finding security, warmth, food, and safety from the goblins and other ravenous evils that had been laying constant siege to their people for so long. Through nonstop industry, the city would continue to expand, and from this secure and centralized location, the dwarves prepared and gathered their strength. The dwarves would establish new trade routes and refurbished old roads. A campaign was launched to retake the underground passages. Slowly, the dwarves began to reclaim bits of their lost lands. This campaign would culminate in the Battle of Black Fire Pass.

It is said that the size of the army that was held back and defeated by the dwarven warriors was so vast that it would have swept over the entirety of the continent, ravaging elves, humans, and everything in their path. But bottled up in that steep valley, the Dark Flood’s numbers were worthless. The battle became a test of wills—a brutal struggle to determine which force would give ground. They valley floor became littered with bodies and sundered shields, created cramped confines that made it difficult to maneuver and swing an axe. But in conditions like these, the dwarves excel, for their kind was long tested in the cramped tunnels under the earth during their quest to the surface. Against their matchless armor and tight shieldwalls, the Dark Flood broke again and again. Not one step backward did thew dwarves take. By the time High King Nurn arrived with reinforcements, he broke the weary horde asunder.

It was this battle that gave birth to a new age of strength and prosperity for the dwarves. Trade between to flourish between the dwarves and humans once again. While the numbers were lessened, goblins, orcs, and their ilk were still found throughout the region. The dwarves would continue to regain their hold on the region; legions marched out of Tar Taargadth and fought with tenacity as they cleared orc encampments off the mountainside, scoured tunnels of goblins, exterminated skaven dens and drove monsters out of bone-strewn lairs.

Only a three of the original ten sky citadels would survive the Dark Flood—Nar-Voth, Jan-Hodd, and Krav-Godan. Neither would survive the Dawn War. But Tar Taargadth would endure and the dwarves would survive.

The Dawn War
For every light, there must also be a shadow. The world of Tyrind still had the shadow of Destruction upon it and it did not wish to be tamed. Quaking cliffs roared in defiance. Seas swelled and swallowed. Flames erupted from below, burning entire mountain ranges. For deep beneath the elements lived ancient beings who were the children of Destruction, as the gods were children of Creation: the Primordials. These great elemental entities desired only to tear down creation and consume it and leave it in ruin, as Destruction had willed. He had infused in the Primordials sparks of his own power, and each had it within them to level continents. Monsters and beasts had been born of the power of the Primordials, who had haunted the dark places as long as the Children of the gods could remember. The goblins and the orcs and the ogres; the hydra and medusa, of course. There were also Fomorians--the massive subterranean giants encountered by the dwarves during their Quest for the Sky--and many others, who are now nameless and formless fears. But the Primordials had tired of haunts and machinations; the time had come for them to act. They rose into the world from their unseen domains to sunder the land. The gods watched in horror as their children, their joy, were flung against broken rocks or fed to formless terrors unleashed by the destruction. Dragons and giants--the first and secondborn of the Primordials and their greatest servants--spilled from the umbra of the Abyss, and demons followed them to feast upon the carnage.

Giants, the children of Thrym, strode across the land, bringing all they came upon to ruin and enslaved those who survived. At the same time, giant packs of dragons flooded the skies and razed forests and seas, and were so massive they shook the mountains and blotted out the sun. The mouth of the earth would open and swallow entire cities, plunging countless people to their doom in the maelstrom of elemental chaos that the Primordials brought with them.

The door to Xandir opened for the first time in a thousand years, and the drow ravaged the land like a plague. Spiders great and small came with them, as did the unholy abominations known as the Drider. Darkness followed them as they cut a bloody swath across the land. Other children of the Primordials, such as the orcs and goblins, would march on civilized lands in an unstoppable wave of bloody rage. The very foundations of All That Was would shake and crack.

Creation was on fire and near collapse. Full of grief and anger, some of the gods wished to leave this world behind; they claimed that the world must begin anew without the taint of the Primordials. Other gods, however, wished to remain and subdue the Primordials, to save the world for the sake of their creations and for the sake of their ordained task. The gods held a grand moot in Seraphel and bickered and argued, and even blows were exchanged.

But in the midst of this petty squabbling, it would ultimately be the Dawnfather who managed to unite the gods in mind and purpose. In his radiance and wisdom, his power and compassion, he appealed to the others. Some accounts record the Dawnfather’s words, and below is a common translation of his brief but impassioned speech:

''“I would have silence among you. I have listened and I have watched and I am weary of your words and empty deeds. You say this world should be abandoned and left to the schemes of Destruction, that we may yet create something new from the carrion that remains. Your words are bitter in my heart. You should feel ashamed! Even if your words were true, and we could once more build a new world from the husk of the old, you know in your hearts that it would not be the same. It would not be THIS world, or THESE people. Our people. We have asked for their faith and love, and you would repay that with such wickedness? You should feel ashamed!”''

''“Think upon our labors, think upon our works! Think upon all we have done, together, to shape this world into something beautiful. Our Mother entrusted to us not only the task of creation, but to protect what was created from the evils of Discord. For what is creation if what is created does not endure? It is only smoke. I will not allow this world to be torn asunder so easily. Verily, I will take up arms and like our Mother before us, will rage against the dying of the light. Even if I must do it alone, for it is better to die fighting for what is right then to live as a faithless coward.”''

''“Who among you will stand with me against the Primordial blight? Stand ye here now or be forever silent. I’ve no more time for petty squabbles. The sun is rising and now we march to war.''” The gods were moved, and they swore to stand with him. It was then that the Dawnfather truly became the leader of the gods. While the pantheon would be united against the Primordials, a divide had started to form between the gods.

As the gods left Seraphel, they called upon the angels--their celestial servants and sentinels, created from divine will and the energy of Heaven itself—to take up arms with them, and the angelic host dedicated themselves to fighting against the demonic forces of the Abyss. As the Heavenly Host descended upon the Material Plane for war, the demons had begun to dig out new Hells, circles upon circles of vile evil in the lower planes, ever creating new evils and monsters for the Primordials to command.

The gods organized their followers and taught them how to draw from the power of creation on their own; to build, to change, to destroy, all without the aid of divine power. Mortals learned to defend themselves through practices such as alchemy or by bending the fabric of existence: the gift of arcane magic. And so came the first true wizards, and they used their power to fight back against the Primordials and the gods who stood with them; twisted and corrupted into dark reflections of themselves.

New races were raised up, such as the Beastfolk and the Treants and the Faun and the Firbolg and other fey creatures, to join in the fight. And slowly, the tide began to turn in the favor of the forces of creation. The heroes of Theros and Huzuz would use their power to create new magics that could bind and banish, and the dwarves turned their keen minds for engineering to craft weapons of war and mass destruction that were powerful enough to bring even a Primordial to its knees. The elves would unleash radiant powers that drove back the hordes of the Abyss.

The Dawn War came to a head when the Primordials lashed out in a desperate last hope by laying siege on Seraphel, city of the gods. Mortal, angel, and god alike fought to the last to defend the city in a battle that held the fate of all that was and all that could be. So vicious and violent was the fighting that earthquakes and tidal waves began to claim the lands and would have collapsed the city into the sea, but the gods used their power to raise Seraphel out of the ocean. The city was raised into the sky, held aloft by the divine might of the gods.

With this victory, the gods and their children drove away the Primordials—scattered to the astral winds. Those gods who turned their backs on creation and sought to help the Primordials, those who did not stand with the Dawnfather to save creation, were imprisoned within their own prison-like planes to dwell on their mistakes.

The world was truly at peace for the first time since its creation. Culture developed anew, the races venturing forth to discover and explore their own lands, and great music filled the air to give a name to this world once and for all: Tyrind, which means "Together" in the ancient First Tongue.

The gods smiled.

The Exalted Era - The Second Age
The world began to mend, though some of the damage the Dawn War had wrought would never completely heal. Much of the once lush Maezar, for example, turned to barren, arid desert. The north and south poles of the planet were frigid wastelands. And the children of the Primordials still lurked and loomed in the world; giants and dragons and all manner of monsters withdrew and hid, regaining their power. But it would only be a matter of time. Not that the mortals of the world dwelled on that. No, they were convinced of their power and assured in their complete victory. Over time, some of the people of Tyrind grew arrogant, seeing their arcane gifts as proof that the gods held no sway over their fates. This grew into a belief that, with enough understanding, they could become as powerful as the gods. Many began to shun faith in favor of their own pursuits. Some sought to harness the power of the multiverse, some experimented with creating their own planes or forms of life. Others began to subjugate their people in a bid for power. Though this hurt the gods and surprised them, they understood the willfulness of their children and endured out of love and hope for redemption.

Great kingdoms sprung up across Tyrind. The elves of Tir Na’Lia entered a glorious new dawn. The dwarves of Dharrenal likewise founded their Iron Empire, and began digging and shaping massive thaigs from the mountains themselves, and tunneled expansive mines and created the mazelike underground highways to connect them all. In Huzuz, the great towers and famed walls were expanded upon, with elementals and djinn bound to perform labor for their masters.

Across the world castles were built in a day, accelerated by wizard's newfound power. Erudite cities hovered and drifted through the skies, shifting under the direction of scholarly magi to wherever their interests took them. Even though magic could be used to complete the most difficult tasks with hitherto unknown efficiency, arcanists strove instead to always innovate. As mages practiced and perfected their powers of creation, they unlocked the secrets of life itself, giving birth to wonders and horrors alike, such as the feral owlber and the majestic pegasi. Powerful archmages began to carve their paths into history during this era of unbridled magical experimentation.

The advent of the arcane seemed to be the key to a bountiful age of plenty, but also proved to threaten it. As prosperity grew, it gave way to greed. Petty squabbles erupted over resources and wealth among the powerful, while the rumor of immortality through perfected arcanum began to drive the greatest mages wild with a lush for unending power.

Some of the most famous tales and stories of this time include:

The Coins of Ferrelis
The coins of the ancient port city of Ferrelis were unique in those ancient days, for one side of the coin bore the face of a man who nobody in the city knew. Local legends say that the man was in fact a lord who grew greedy and craven, and wished to live forever. He spent his fortune searching for a means to live forever, eventually growing desperate enough to appeal to the Raven Queen. He begged her to live forever, so that he could spend his eternity with his riches.

The Raven Queen granted his request. With a wave of her hand, he would indeed spend forever with his wealth—his coins now hold his spirit and his name was lost from memory.

The Legend of the Ice Lord
A long time ago, in the wild north, there lived the great king named Meldev. He was just, good, and loved by the people of his kingdom. He walked through the streets, joining in the games of children, going into taverns to laugh and sing with his subjects, and making sure no beggar went hungry. Meldev lived in the great North Sanctuary with his beautiful wife Raechel. It was a huge palace, fit for a king. There was one problem. The Ice Giants sought to bring an everlasting winter to the warm plains of Meldev’ kingdom. The good king Meldev fought back and made sure that the sons of Thrym would never return. In a final act of rage, the king of the giants cursed Meldev.

The next summer was one of much rejoicing, for Meldev had a son, and named him Persus, who did not cry when he was born, his flesh cold to the touch. Persus was born with a heart of pure ice. He was scorned by all, even his own parents. At his coming of age, Persus ran from the great city, and into the mountains. He found the tribes of Ice Giants his father had forced back. After realizing who he was, they accepted him and trained him to fight in their way, and to use his power over ice. Together, Persus and the Giant King made a pact: the giants would help Persus take over his father’s kingdom, and he would help them take over the land. The shamans told Persus of an ancient artifact; the hammer called Bane, which would give Persus even greater power. Persus journeyed down into the icy caverns of the mountain, and recovered the hammer and readied the Giants for war.

They invaded the kingdom, and slaughtered all in their path. Persus personally killed his father, and exiled his mother into the south. He turned the land to that of cold, using the power of the hammer, becoming the Icelord.

However, it was then that the Wildmother intervened. She hates kinslaying for any reason and was enraged at the Icelord’s siding with the ice giants; children of Thrym. She struck down the giants and used her power to contain the Icelord’s evil. The land was cursed; a land of lasting winter and bitter waters. The Icelord swore vengeance from his halls, which slowly grew overrun with ice and snow, turning into the Great Glacier of Persus, also called the Sanctuary Glacier.

It is said that in that land, which is now northern Slazka, the Icelord waits there still and plots for the day the Wildmother’s curse is lifted and he is free to unleash a wintery hell upon the world once again.

The Circle of Nine
During a harsh winter’s night, a half-elf was born to a human mother in the basement of an inn off the Wild Coast (modern-day Alfine). Tragically, as is the case with many half-elf births, his mother did not survive, but she lived long enough to name him: Mordenkainen.

His early life was a simple one, doing chores and exploring the woods and hills around the inn where he was born. When he turned nine years old, he is said to have woven his first cantrip and from then on became obsessed with the world of magic. He left the inn at the age of fourteen years, traveling the countryside, learning and experimenting with the arcane, and going on adventures. By the time he was twenty years old, he had earned something of a modest reputation as a wizard who was clever and brave.

In the autumn of his twentieth year, Mordenkainen would join three companions—a human warrior named Robilar, a cleric of the Dawnfather named Riggby, a halfling thief named Milo Rugby. The four had joined a small party sent to the ruins of a dwarven Sky Citadel, but had met unexpected resistance in the form of a colony of duergar who had made the ruins their home. Only the four heroes survived but escaped with precious information and, of course, treasure. The four would agree that they worked as a team and would decide to travel with one another and had many adventures. By the end of their first year, they would recruit five more heroes: Bucknard, a human lord and swashbuckling fighter; Drawmij, a human sorcerer from distant Casmaron; Thror, a dwarven paladin of the Allhammer; Nystul, a dwarven ranger; Sovelis, an elven druid; and Rary, a human wizard who had been classically trained (in contrast to Mordenkainen’s self-taught mastrery).

Together, they save the ancient city of Hulward from an invasion of seabound dragonborn and, in the wake of this victory, officially founded the adventuring party known as the Circle of Nine. The nine went on many, many adventures together over the course of thirty years. While the deeds of each individual member of the Circle are considered extraordinary, their collective adventures are considered legend.

One of their greatest acts was the defeat of the lich known as Vecna; an archmage who became a lich in a bid for immortality and attempted to use ancient knowledge allegedly from ancient Volantis to ascend to godhood. Three different adventures chronicle the Circle of Nine’s efforts to stop the mad mage Vecna. At the end of this third adventure, they used a weapon known as the Rod of Seven Parts to trap Vecna inside of a demiplane of Mordenkainen’s own devising.

As time passed, however, things were not well. The Circle of Nine would eventually grow distant and ultimately fall apart when Rary betrayed the others; seduced by the promises of godhood, he freed Vecna from his prison. Thus began the Lich War, which caused nearly half of Dharrenal to be overrun with undead and orcs who had gathered under Vecna’s banner.

The remaining members of the Circle would move to stop Vecna, leading the free people to fight back. In the end, the entire Circle of Eight would wage a final, desperate battle against Vecna in his Black Spire. All eight members of the Circle would perish in order to once more defeat and imprison Vecna.

The world was saved but at the cost of its greatest heroes.

War of the Dead
Approximately four centuries after the final defeat of Vecna, in the ancient human empire of Osirion (which is in modern day Maezar), wisemen harnessed arcane magic to rule their mighty empire with an iron fist, and its Pharaoh worshiped as living gods themselves. One such ruler, a man named Iuz the Red, sought not just immortality and power, but godhood itself. Through his experiments, he had discovered a way to use magic to raise and control the bodies of the dead. He began a mass slaughter of his armies and raised them using these vile magics, creating an army of the dead. Iuz turned to communicating with mysterious entities that promised him his goal of eternal life. They were not Primordials, so they said, but they hated the gods and sought a new order. Iuz descended into madness and depravity, constructing black obelisks and feeding off the lifeforce of his people to extend his life—and then turning the dead into soldiers and laborers.

The truth of Iuz’s purposes and experiments has been lost to time. What is remembered is the corrupting taint of Osirion’s evil. Eventually, the men of Huzuz, the Sand Elves, and the Dream Dwarves would join in an alliance and marched on the Great Black Pyramid where Iuz had made his seat of power. It is said the Everlight and the Wildmother lent their power to this campaign, sending angels and eladrin. After forty days and nights of battle, Iuz’s forces were defeated.

It is said that what they found inside the pyramid, and what Iuz had ultimately become, were too horrific and unimaginable. But whatever it was, the only thing they knew for sure was that in some twisted way, Iuz’s patrons had kept their word.

But the question remained—who WERE Iuz’s patrons? Who had he communed with, who taught him such terrible and vile powers?

The Deceiver and the Titans
The answer was not immediately clear to the gods or to mortals, but it would not be long before they found an answer. Those banished gods remained and watched, waiting from their confinement. Like the Primordials before them, they would whisper and corrupt the minds of mortals, bringing new horrors and evils to the world in small amounts. Experiments.

The gods were unaware that among their number was a traitor—one of their own had been corrupted and sought to wield the power of Destruction. He played his part for thousands of years; he was like a brother to the Dawnfather, a lover to the Moonweaver, and a friend to the gods and mortals alike. He was said to have been a god of tales and freedom and the sky. But in his heart he harbored a bitter hatred for All That Was. He felt that a new order was needed; the world was imperfect, mortals sinful and wicked. The gods were corrupt and complacent. There needed to be a cleansing, a new beginning. The Primordials had so nearly delivered one, but it was cruelly snatched away by the Dawnfather. So the only solution was to tear it all down himself—but he could not do it alone. In secret, he rent open the gates of the prisons of the banished gods and released the betrayers into the world. During their imprisonment, these gods of hatred and despair and evil twisted their prison into their own twisted image, spawning unthinkable horrors that lived only to turn peace into suffering, and righteousness into arrogance and greed. The Nine Hells and the Abyss began to push their way into creation. The Betrayer god gathered his brethren together to discuss the growing concern about the Hells, but in truth this was but a ruse. His true intention were darker.

When the gods had all come together, the betrayer revealed his true nature by allowing the banished gods into the world once more, resulting in a wave of evil and devastation. He declared a new order that would not be ruled by gods—but by Titans. The Dawnfather declared the betrayer to be the Deceiver. The newly christened Titan decided he rather liked that, and unleashed the Titans entirely, turning them on the city. Seraphel would ultimately weather the assault, saved largely by the power of the gods, who traded blows with their former brethren. The battle between divinity and mortals, between heroes and demons, raged for twenty days and nights until the Titans would ultimately withdraw from the floating city.

As they began to spread across Tyrind, the Titans discovered the world was largely unspoiled, save for the taint of mortalkind. The urge to ruin was joined by the desire to dominate. The corrupted divinity of the Titans sought out the remnants of the offspring of the Primordials, scattering across the world, and created mighty and terrible kingdoms. Giants, dragons, spiders, drow, orcs, and more were drawn to the banner of the Titans. New nightmares were created, as well; monsters and undead and more spawned from the pits of the Mother of Monsters.

In these lands of evil, where the twisted powers of the lower planes began to seep into Tyrind, the lords of darkness tainted the minds of mortals, hungrily accepting those who had lost their way, offering great promises and boons to the hearts of the easily swayed. These poisonous seeds for fertile ground in the hearts of mortals, especially humans. With a legion of the damned behind them, a year and a day after the Assault on Seraphel, the Titans made their true power known to the world.

During this time, a dangerous magical arms race began. Trust was shattered indefinitely—if even the gods could fall to corruption, who could be trusted? If ruin could be unleashed even in the floating city, were the gods even relevant? No longer trusting in any but themselves, the self-interested and singular humans reforged their instruments of celebration and discovery into weapons of terrible power—artifacts that could wielded by the worthy. The dwarves’ fascination with rock and earth turned ever more toward isolation as they burrowed deeper into the mountains, using arcane magic to animate legions of autonomous golems to protect their ancestral halls. The elves used their understand of creation’s beauty and intricacies to weave spells of unimaginable destructive force, the likes of which Tyrind had never seen before.

For the first time since the Primordials were destroyed, the focus of magic was singularly on warfare. The gods themselves would join their children on the field of battle, leaving their city and their heavenly planes to take up arms once more.

The Sundering
The battlefields of the catastrophic showdowns of the Sundering are scattered across Tyrind. The immensity of the powers wielded by gods and titans was enough to rend and scar the landscape for eons, and the irresponsible use of magic developed by the mortals ensured ruin.

Little record remains now of this terrible war, but its effects are still felt today. The sheer magnitude of the energies unleashed in the ensuing battles between gods and mortals alike was enough to fray the boundaries holding back the elemental chaos, spilling unbridled destruction into the world. It completely rearranged the known flow of magical ley energies across Tyrind. The realm of Xandir was reduced to ash. Floating cities fell from the sky, as storms and tidal surges swallowed islands. Mountains crashed into the seas and across the plains.

The conflict utterly devastated Tyrind’s peoples, razing entire kingdoms; the kingdoms of Dharrenal were devastated beyond recognition. Huzuz was mostly destroyed, lost inside in a never-ending sandstorm dozens of miles wide for more than a century. Even Tir Na’Li, long the haven of the elves and a center of civilization, was reduced to less than memory. The devastation inspired in many a desire to flee the material plane entirely. To that end, the eladrin lamented at the devastation and disappeared into the Feywild, where they have remained ever since. So great was the loss of life during the war that historians believe no more than a third of Tyrind’s population survived, leaving only one remaining bastion of civilization—the first city, Seraphel.

As the world neared its end, the gods met in secret and came to a decision; a last hope to save creation. They felt their involvement in mortal affairs was to blame for the cataclysmic damage inflicted on Tyrind. They knew that so long as the divine gateways remained open, even if they managed to banish the titans again they may escape yet again, for the prisons of the titans are imperfect and temporary. So, hoping to ensure such ruin would never again befall Tyrind, the gods left the world. They returned to the realms of the heavens, dragging titan and abomination with them and sealing the pathways behind them with the Divine Seal. Only in this way could they prevent their corrupted brethren from physically returning to the material plane. Sadly, for the gods, this meant a self-imposed exile, never again allowed to visit their children or walk among their creations.

The disappearance of the gods is known by many names; the Exodus or the Rebirth to those who study the arcane, or the Penance for those seek closeness to the gods. The most common name for this time is the Sundering, and it marked the end of the second age of the world.

The Modern Era - The Third Age
Much time has passed since, and the world has been reborn once again. The gods still influence and guide from beyond the Divine Seal, bestowing knowledge and power on their worshipers, but the path of mortals is now their own to make. New cities, kingdoms, and cultures have retaken the world, building over the ashes of the old. New songs fill the air, and the hope of a brighter future drives people day after day, while buried ruins and ancient relics remind all people of a darker time of mistakes—a time that should never be allowed to repeat.