Post by Spus on Nov 9, 2006 3:50:00 GMT -5
Roughly four millenia ago, the region that is now called “Orenero” was only swamps and wastelands from one coast to another. It was the realm of a great black wyrm known as Siliskor. He held this realm under an iron claw for thousands of years- many from far off lands foolishly came to challenge his power, and all failed. Siliskor’s power was unmatched, far exceeding any other of his draconic race, and even the power of many of the golds and reds, typically viewed as the lords of the true dragons. Siliskor himself was merely content by the mere amusement of any fool who dare step in his realm to challenge him.
Thousands of miles to the north of this beast’s realm, was the massive human empire of Ruagnos. Ruagnos has conquered much of the northern lands through conquest, under the undying Warlord Destoph’s 600-year reign. Destoph, while long lived, lacked many of the traits associated with people who aren’t elves and somehow manage to live that long- the warlord appeared to be in his mid twenties, and to be as healthy as an ox- he didn’t have any sort of rotten odor about him, none of his flesh randomly fell off, and he didn’t seem to become uncomfortable around priests of Pelor. Destoph’s unnaturally long lifespan allowed him to have an iron grasp on control of his growing empire. However, he ultimately ran into a barrier against his expansion.
A smaller, but by no means diminuitive nation-state to his north resisted his expansion. These northmen, barbarians, led by a clan called MacPherson, united only by a high regard for their sacred traditions were the masters of their unique terrain, alien to the soldiers of Ruagnos. Destoph was faced with a rough predicament. He wanted to expand his lands further, but his usual smashmouth tactics would not work here. The casualties would be immeasurable, and news of his grand military failing could stir the potential plot of rebellion. He could admit defeat in the face of the barbarians- but that would be as devastating, if not more than going through with the invasion. Destoph, decided, it was time for a different tactic. He turned to the ways of the arcane- he great empire had gained great arcane knowledge from his conquests, and constructed a mighty school of arcane knowledge- the Arcanago Academy of the Arcane. The Triple A, was one of Destoph’s easiest and most sucessful creations. All he had to do was pile his great libraries in the same general area, and scholars from the world over came, begging him to allow them to research there with the other great minds.
Destoph called upon the Archmages. He requested they develop for him, an artifact of great power. An artifact that would make anyone he pleased bow down before him unquestionably. Destoph wanted to use this item to make the MacPherson clan and their peoples bow down and be annexed into the Ruagnosian empire. His archmages unwittingly agreed. They went forth and poured every single arcane secret they possibly knew of into its creation. They poured endless hours into the project- after all, dissapointing Destoph could be a very bad career move for the magicians of the Triple A.
The result of their labors came soon enough. They created a platinum plated amulet of of flawless diamond, in the shape of an 8-pronged arcanist’s star. At the holder’s will, he has the foul power to strip any person or creature, no matter how powerful, completely of their free will with a mere glance of an eye and mumbling of a word of power. Destoph was unconditionally pleased with the Triple A Magicians’ work.
Destoph used his brand new toy and proceeded to lead his armies into the northlands against the barbarian tribes. The barbarians, as they appeared to the other soldiers, were completely mesmerized by Destoph’s “moving speech”. They laid down their arms and threw themselves at Destoph’s mercy. The other barbarians in other tribes, appalled at their allies’ apparent cowardice, quickly marched against Destoph, but they too, quickly met the same fate. Destoph easily had the northlands under his control within a month.
But it was not completely without loss. Destoph, as he marched through the northlands, with complete and unchecked force over the will of these men, grew drunk with his newfound power. He began using it as his only means of defense. He started downsizing his armies. This left many of his formerly loyal servants bitter and angry… but Destoph cared not. He could turn anything’s mind into his personal plaything. What could the masses of a pathetic meat army do to him? He thought this would have no effect on him, as he shrunk his armies more and more. More and more men were left disgruntled and unemployed. Destoph cared not. He had absolute power. No one could stand up to him and his amulet…unless? Uneasy thoughts struck forth at Destoph. The Magicians of the Triple A. They are the ones who created this… They could destroy it. Destoph couldn’t risk it- he was going to bring those archmages and keep their morale up – artifically as he planned to do it.
Little did Destoph know, is that Triple A Magicians foresaw such the potential. While on the project, under the warnings of Arch Diviner Khyron, they added a loophole to the item- specifically immunizing the Council of Nine against the amulet’s power. When Destoph attempted to use the amulet’s power on them, they easily laughed it off. Destoph was enraged and asked for the meaning of this- upon hearing their explanation; Destoph climbed a few rungs on the rage ladder, and stormed out of the Academy. Lead Arcanist Skulryke, seeing the writing on the wall, knew that the golden days in the Academy were done. He led the council out in the dead of night, in hopes to stage a rebellion against Destoph. Their escape proved to be in the nick of time- the night after Destoph discovered their treachery- The Arcagoss Academy of the Arcane, the largest library that the world had ever saw at that point, was burned to the ground, setting the world back centuries in magical research…
Skulryke and his Council searched out the disgruntled soldiers of Ruagnos, and attempted to overthrow Destoph. However, they could not overcome, to the soldier’s knowledge, Destoph’s magnificent diplomacy skills. Faced with inevitable defeat, Skulryke made one last arcane curse towards Destoph, the only curse he knew that could possibly get around Destoph’s powerful abjurations. With that, he took himself, his council, and the disgruntled soldiers and their families and decided to leave the Ruagnosian Empire. However, it’s vastness only left them with one viable route for escape- Southwards, across the Zurmok Badlands- known today to Orenorean scholars as the Savage Lands.
Legend has it, that one hundred years later, Destoph finally expired from natural causes, approximately six centuries after he should have. There are varying accounts of what exactly happened to his amulet. Some say he was buried with it in a tomb in an unnamed location, with his the men who buried him slaughtered upon return to civilization, to guarantee it was never found. Some say that didn’t stop oppurnistic thieves from finding it anyway and looting Destoph’s tomb for it’s many treasures- including, but not limited to, his amulet.
The travels were harsh. Skulryke and his companions slowly trodded over the harsh unforgiving badlands, looking to the south with hope- but not finding any- the skies just grew gloomier as they continued to move south. The savages of the Zurmok Badlands didn’t show mercy, as the Ruagnosian Refugees continued their trek.
Soon, they escaped the badlands. At least the Zurmok Badlands- the new, unexplored region, which no Ruagnosian ever stepped on before was just as bad, if not worse. The whole area was overwhelming with a horrible rotten stench, and many of the refugees began dropping off, overwhelmed with hopelessness and grief, not wishing to follow the 9 mage’s lead any longer. This included the gnomes and dwarves, who were of limited population in Ruagnos, who left off on the border of the then-unnamed Orenero and the Zurmok badlands heading west. These dissidents are the ancestors of the gnomes and dwarves of Kilkralthen- the largest mountain chain in the region of Orenero.
Others broke off and headed east, towards the desert. Although deserts in themselves are inhospitable, these refugees were tired, lost, and were not being prone to being picky after all this. Besides, at the very least, the desert failed to have the rancid stench that the swamp had. These humans found the modern kingdom of Aridia, and many millenia later, amidst politcal turmoil, Kasios.
But the Nine Magicians pushed on. They worked their way to the center of the region…and were greeted with a horrible sight. A massive reptillian beast caught sight of these refugees. The dragon just laughed. Fools, he thought. Lost, tired, hungry. And they DARE tread on my domain? This should be highly amusing- maybe I’ll keep a few around solely for my entertainment. Bait for the next idiotic crusader who comes by with intents to slay me. Get them all furious and righteous. Always more amusing when they’re declaring that they’re going to kill me for my horrible crimes.
Skulryke and his companion’s spirits were in horrible condition. They were all getting by on dry bran and squirrel jerky. Neither of those do much to improve your demeanor or give you hope for life. But they have come all this way…we couldn’t of went through all of this for some death far more horrible than what Destoph would of put us through. They couldn’t die here. It’d create a time paradox.
As they say, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Jakkon, the former Arch Abjurer, managed to save one vital book from the Arcagos Academy, forseeing its potential instruction. It was a book on anti-dragon wards. He quickly thought of a plot. He instructed Skulryke to hold him off- Skulryke though Jakkon had gone mad, but he didn’t see many other options. Jakkon took the other 7 mages and slowly began flanking Siliskor. Skulryke, feeling absolutely stupid drawing the attention of something that could kill him with a well aimed hiccup. He would have preferred that sort of death, instead of of being swung around like a ragdoll by his foot in the great wyrm’s snout. Much to both his relief and dismay, he soon found himself taking a 20-foot fall to the mushy swamp ground. Siliskor was suddenly frozen in place. His eyes were filled with rage- insolent mortals!
The paralyzing spells exhausted Jakkon and his seven companions. He then called out further orders to his plan…A gate opened up near Siliskor and began engulfing him, as Skulryke hobbled away, bloodied and beaten. Soon, the gate fully engulfed the fiendish dragon, as the eight magicians collapsed in complete and total exhaustion.
Jakkon later explained that the book he had warned him of such a powerful adversary. Siliskor was almost godlike in power- to challenge him in direct combat, especially being so wary, would have been suicide. That gate, sealing him to a subplane of the region, drained the magicians, potentially permanantly. It was only a temporary solution, unless they found a way of permanacing the magics on the wizards staves that each of them carried.
The exhausted magicians and the refugees with them reached the southern coast, and upon sealing the beast away, the sky began to clear up- the scents began to be less awful. Oddly enough the land started to heal and become habitable. The first few years in the region were rough, but the magicians and the refugees found an area supposedly out of Destoph’s reach- the rumored presence of such a terrifying beast likely kept him from expanding southwards- even with his amulet. The refugees found their home- and their descendants, be it human, dwarf, gnome, halfling, or elf, are the Orenoreans of today.
Thousands of miles to the north of this beast’s realm, was the massive human empire of Ruagnos. Ruagnos has conquered much of the northern lands through conquest, under the undying Warlord Destoph’s 600-year reign. Destoph, while long lived, lacked many of the traits associated with people who aren’t elves and somehow manage to live that long- the warlord appeared to be in his mid twenties, and to be as healthy as an ox- he didn’t have any sort of rotten odor about him, none of his flesh randomly fell off, and he didn’t seem to become uncomfortable around priests of Pelor. Destoph’s unnaturally long lifespan allowed him to have an iron grasp on control of his growing empire. However, he ultimately ran into a barrier against his expansion.
A smaller, but by no means diminuitive nation-state to his north resisted his expansion. These northmen, barbarians, led by a clan called MacPherson, united only by a high regard for their sacred traditions were the masters of their unique terrain, alien to the soldiers of Ruagnos. Destoph was faced with a rough predicament. He wanted to expand his lands further, but his usual smashmouth tactics would not work here. The casualties would be immeasurable, and news of his grand military failing could stir the potential plot of rebellion. He could admit defeat in the face of the barbarians- but that would be as devastating, if not more than going through with the invasion. Destoph, decided, it was time for a different tactic. He turned to the ways of the arcane- he great empire had gained great arcane knowledge from his conquests, and constructed a mighty school of arcane knowledge- the Arcanago Academy of the Arcane. The Triple A, was one of Destoph’s easiest and most sucessful creations. All he had to do was pile his great libraries in the same general area, and scholars from the world over came, begging him to allow them to research there with the other great minds.
Destoph called upon the Archmages. He requested they develop for him, an artifact of great power. An artifact that would make anyone he pleased bow down before him unquestionably. Destoph wanted to use this item to make the MacPherson clan and their peoples bow down and be annexed into the Ruagnosian empire. His archmages unwittingly agreed. They went forth and poured every single arcane secret they possibly knew of into its creation. They poured endless hours into the project- after all, dissapointing Destoph could be a very bad career move for the magicians of the Triple A.
The result of their labors came soon enough. They created a platinum plated amulet of of flawless diamond, in the shape of an 8-pronged arcanist’s star. At the holder’s will, he has the foul power to strip any person or creature, no matter how powerful, completely of their free will with a mere glance of an eye and mumbling of a word of power. Destoph was unconditionally pleased with the Triple A Magicians’ work.
Destoph used his brand new toy and proceeded to lead his armies into the northlands against the barbarian tribes. The barbarians, as they appeared to the other soldiers, were completely mesmerized by Destoph’s “moving speech”. They laid down their arms and threw themselves at Destoph’s mercy. The other barbarians in other tribes, appalled at their allies’ apparent cowardice, quickly marched against Destoph, but they too, quickly met the same fate. Destoph easily had the northlands under his control within a month.
But it was not completely without loss. Destoph, as he marched through the northlands, with complete and unchecked force over the will of these men, grew drunk with his newfound power. He began using it as his only means of defense. He started downsizing his armies. This left many of his formerly loyal servants bitter and angry… but Destoph cared not. He could turn anything’s mind into his personal plaything. What could the masses of a pathetic meat army do to him? He thought this would have no effect on him, as he shrunk his armies more and more. More and more men were left disgruntled and unemployed. Destoph cared not. He had absolute power. No one could stand up to him and his amulet…unless? Uneasy thoughts struck forth at Destoph. The Magicians of the Triple A. They are the ones who created this… They could destroy it. Destoph couldn’t risk it- he was going to bring those archmages and keep their morale up – artifically as he planned to do it.
Little did Destoph know, is that Triple A Magicians foresaw such the potential. While on the project, under the warnings of Arch Diviner Khyron, they added a loophole to the item- specifically immunizing the Council of Nine against the amulet’s power. When Destoph attempted to use the amulet’s power on them, they easily laughed it off. Destoph was enraged and asked for the meaning of this- upon hearing their explanation; Destoph climbed a few rungs on the rage ladder, and stormed out of the Academy. Lead Arcanist Skulryke, seeing the writing on the wall, knew that the golden days in the Academy were done. He led the council out in the dead of night, in hopes to stage a rebellion against Destoph. Their escape proved to be in the nick of time- the night after Destoph discovered their treachery- The Arcagoss Academy of the Arcane, the largest library that the world had ever saw at that point, was burned to the ground, setting the world back centuries in magical research…
Skulryke and his Council searched out the disgruntled soldiers of Ruagnos, and attempted to overthrow Destoph. However, they could not overcome, to the soldier’s knowledge, Destoph’s magnificent diplomacy skills. Faced with inevitable defeat, Skulryke made one last arcane curse towards Destoph, the only curse he knew that could possibly get around Destoph’s powerful abjurations. With that, he took himself, his council, and the disgruntled soldiers and their families and decided to leave the Ruagnosian Empire. However, it’s vastness only left them with one viable route for escape- Southwards, across the Zurmok Badlands- known today to Orenorean scholars as the Savage Lands.
Legend has it, that one hundred years later, Destoph finally expired from natural causes, approximately six centuries after he should have. There are varying accounts of what exactly happened to his amulet. Some say he was buried with it in a tomb in an unnamed location, with his the men who buried him slaughtered upon return to civilization, to guarantee it was never found. Some say that didn’t stop oppurnistic thieves from finding it anyway and looting Destoph’s tomb for it’s many treasures- including, but not limited to, his amulet.
The travels were harsh. Skulryke and his companions slowly trodded over the harsh unforgiving badlands, looking to the south with hope- but not finding any- the skies just grew gloomier as they continued to move south. The savages of the Zurmok Badlands didn’t show mercy, as the Ruagnosian Refugees continued their trek.
Soon, they escaped the badlands. At least the Zurmok Badlands- the new, unexplored region, which no Ruagnosian ever stepped on before was just as bad, if not worse. The whole area was overwhelming with a horrible rotten stench, and many of the refugees began dropping off, overwhelmed with hopelessness and grief, not wishing to follow the 9 mage’s lead any longer. This included the gnomes and dwarves, who were of limited population in Ruagnos, who left off on the border of the then-unnamed Orenero and the Zurmok badlands heading west. These dissidents are the ancestors of the gnomes and dwarves of Kilkralthen- the largest mountain chain in the region of Orenero.
Others broke off and headed east, towards the desert. Although deserts in themselves are inhospitable, these refugees were tired, lost, and were not being prone to being picky after all this. Besides, at the very least, the desert failed to have the rancid stench that the swamp had. These humans found the modern kingdom of Aridia, and many millenia later, amidst politcal turmoil, Kasios.
But the Nine Magicians pushed on. They worked their way to the center of the region…and were greeted with a horrible sight. A massive reptillian beast caught sight of these refugees. The dragon just laughed. Fools, he thought. Lost, tired, hungry. And they DARE tread on my domain? This should be highly amusing- maybe I’ll keep a few around solely for my entertainment. Bait for the next idiotic crusader who comes by with intents to slay me. Get them all furious and righteous. Always more amusing when they’re declaring that they’re going to kill me for my horrible crimes.
Skulryke and his companion’s spirits were in horrible condition. They were all getting by on dry bran and squirrel jerky. Neither of those do much to improve your demeanor or give you hope for life. But they have come all this way…we couldn’t of went through all of this for some death far more horrible than what Destoph would of put us through. They couldn’t die here. It’d create a time paradox.
As they say, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Jakkon, the former Arch Abjurer, managed to save one vital book from the Arcagos Academy, forseeing its potential instruction. It was a book on anti-dragon wards. He quickly thought of a plot. He instructed Skulryke to hold him off- Skulryke though Jakkon had gone mad, but he didn’t see many other options. Jakkon took the other 7 mages and slowly began flanking Siliskor. Skulryke, feeling absolutely stupid drawing the attention of something that could kill him with a well aimed hiccup. He would have preferred that sort of death, instead of of being swung around like a ragdoll by his foot in the great wyrm’s snout. Much to both his relief and dismay, he soon found himself taking a 20-foot fall to the mushy swamp ground. Siliskor was suddenly frozen in place. His eyes were filled with rage- insolent mortals!
The paralyzing spells exhausted Jakkon and his seven companions. He then called out further orders to his plan…A gate opened up near Siliskor and began engulfing him, as Skulryke hobbled away, bloodied and beaten. Soon, the gate fully engulfed the fiendish dragon, as the eight magicians collapsed in complete and total exhaustion.
Jakkon later explained that the book he had warned him of such a powerful adversary. Siliskor was almost godlike in power- to challenge him in direct combat, especially being so wary, would have been suicide. That gate, sealing him to a subplane of the region, drained the magicians, potentially permanantly. It was only a temporary solution, unless they found a way of permanacing the magics on the wizards staves that each of them carried.
The exhausted magicians and the refugees with them reached the southern coast, and upon sealing the beast away, the sky began to clear up- the scents began to be less awful. Oddly enough the land started to heal and become habitable. The first few years in the region were rough, but the magicians and the refugees found an area supposedly out of Destoph’s reach- the rumored presence of such a terrifying beast likely kept him from expanding southwards- even with his amulet. The refugees found their home- and their descendants, be it human, dwarf, gnome, halfling, or elf, are the Orenoreans of today.
