Microsoft Zone Archive/Asheron's Lore/Dereth: A Brief History for Travelers
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Dereth: A Brief History for Travelers
by Chris L'Etoile
WHAT CAME BEFORE
In ancient times a powerful race -- the Empyrean -- flourished across the island of Dereth. Their empire fell into ruin when the Empyrean magician Asheron accidentally opened a portal to another world, ushering in hordes of vicious monsters known as Olthoi. Asheron sent the Empyrean into a dimension between worlds and stayed behind to try to find a way to defeat the Olthoi.
The Empyrean's flight opened additional portals that summoned other creatures to Dereth, among them humans from the world of Ispar. For many years the humans lived as Olthoi slaves, but a band of rebels -- led by the noblewoman Elysa Strathelar and the warrior Thorsten Cragstone -- chose to fight. Aided by Asheron's magic, they slew the Olthoi queen and won freedom, though the fight cost Thorsten his life. Now, ten years later, Elysa has vanished and Asheron's whereabouts are unknown.
ISPAR: THE WORLD THAT WAS
Ispar is home to many different cultures, including the warlike Aluvians, the scholarly Gharu'ndim, and the disciplined Sho. Recently, portals began to appear there. They seemed to exert a mystical pull upon those who saw them, almost as though someone were beckoning from the other side.
The most adventurous answered the call and were transported to Dereth, with no way to return. At first the portals appeared only in the land of Aluvia, but in recent years they have spread to Gharu'n and the Sho realms. Their spread may well continue into other lands.
DERETH: THE WORLD THAT IS
When humans first arrived in Dereth it was a world in ruins, overrun with ferocious creatures. Faced with the prospect that they might never return to Ispar, humans have made the island their new home. They have built towns and carved out small pockets of safety in a perilous world.
Though the Empyrean have vanished, some of what they wrought remains: magic flows through the land; mystical portals carry travelers many miles in a heartbeat, enchanted Lifestones bind the spirits of those who use them, allowing the dead to be resurrected. Those who come back to life find that some of their life force has been drained away -- some say to power Asheron's magic. Even more ancient secrets may lie amid the crumbled remnants of Empyrean society.
THE WORLD THAT COULD BE
Many challenges await newcomers to Dereth. Exploring the island is both dangerous and rewarding: monsters lurk everywhere, especially in the hostile Direlands, and wondrous sights, both natural and crafted by the Empyrean, await the adventurous. Scores of dungeons -- some built by the Empyrean for arcane purposes, others dug by the Olthoi or other creatures as lairs -- riddle the earth. Somewhere among these is the stronghold of Asheron himself, its location lost with Elysa Strathelar and waiting to be found again.
Gathering of Heroes
Asheron has summoned many to Dereth; only the bravest have answered the call. Here, warriors will battle creatures of awesome might, magicians will discover magical items and create new spells, and rogues will seek out precious treasure. Quests will impel adventurers to uncover the wealth and lore of legend. Adventurers will form allegiances and fellowships, for often many can accomplish what one alone cannot.
The island of Dereth is strange, beautiful, and perilous. Power and riches are here for the taking. Many mysteries wait to be explored and solved, not the least of which is the whereabouts of the lost Empyrean race. And, it is said, there is a deep and ancient darkness at the heart of things, striving to reawaken. These tasks are not for the faint of heart -- brave adventurers are needed to explore the dangerous wilds, delve the deepest catacombs, and rise as rulers in this new world.
Dereth: Frostfell 10PY / Earth: December 1999
In the month known as Frostfell, the isle of Dereth was beset by a sudden freeze. As mages scrambled to explain the dropping temperatures, the snowline dipped down from the lofty peaks of the Lost Wish and Linvak mountain ranges, until the entire island was coated with several inches of snow. Even the Gharu'ndim, deep in the hot and barren A'mun desert, awoke one morn to find their stately brick courtyards blanketed with white. In Samsur, the Fountain of Musansayn froze solid.
Somewhere in the wastes, the exploration party of Sir Joffre Tremblant fell afoul of dark forces. The legendary Knight of the Golden Flame order had gone in search of a fabled lost city alluded to in certain Empyrean texts. At first, his party was presumed lost in the blinding snows. Intrepid bands followed his meandering path from Arwic to Stonehold, gathering clues to his final destination. Along the way, many assisted the aims of Lady Tallial of Neydisa Castle, or those of her rival MacDugal in the Bandit Castle. Others grappled with Hoary Mattekars, ferocious mountain creatures the size of a house. The hides of these creatures, when given to the skilled tradesmen of Dereth, were quickly turned into fine Mattekar Robes.
With the assistance of the scholars of Zaikhal, the search parties discovered the path to the mysterious underground city of Frore. Here the fate of the Tremblant Party stood revealed; the group had been slain and then turned into undead slaves by an ancient cult of Empyrean necromancers calling themselves the Gelidites. In the depths of the frozen hell of Frore, adventurers struggled through legions of undead sorcerers, who were lead by a council of three dark priests. These three, Ferundi, Frisander, and Fenngar by name, were slain at the gates of the city. In the deepest caverns, parties were brought up short by a cadre of Gelidite Lords lead by the powerful sorcerer Frisirth. The Gelidite necromancer controlled Sir Tremblant, who pleaded for death even as he was magically forced to defend his evil master.
When Tremblant was released from his misery and Frisirth defeated, the parties confronted a greater mystery -- a large, rotating crystal the Gelidites called the Great Work. This magical artifact had been discovered by Frisirth centuries before. Under the enchantments of the Gelidites, the Great Work sucked the heat from the earth, causing the snows that carpeted Dereth. When the explorers rushed to destroy it, the crystal defended itself with powerful magics. Many were slain, but in the end the Isparians prevailed. Abrim of Morningthaw chronicled the final battle against the Work in his tale “Return to Frore,” which became a bestseller at the capital towns of Cragstone, Hebian-To, and Zaikhal.
With the Great Work shattered, warmth began to seep back into the land. The exhausted and battered adventurers returned to their homes, to enjoy the blessings of the Solstice, Festival of Lights, and Night Feast holidays. During the celebrations, new culinary delights had been invented to delight the palate. Kakori of Thistledown made Carrot Cake, Dani the Crazed of Leafcull introduced Famous Pizza, Raszagal and Tassadar of Morningthaw created Hot Kimchi, and Firedemon of Thistledown baked the first Spiced Apple Pie. Bortin of Frostfell created Fruitcake, but he has since been forgiven, and is occasionally allowed back into town.
The remnants of the Gelidite cult were left in sorrow, their great hopes dashed. Departing adventurers even seized their ancient scriptures as spoils of war. Our Great Work, a memoir written by Ferundi, was given to the scholars of Hebian-To, and the ancient Book of Minesh, a history of the Gelidite cult, was seized by the Zaikhal Arcanum.
Dereth: Snowreap 11PY / Earth: January 2000
As the heat seeped back into the earth, snowlines receded. Patches of slush still dotted the landscape, but hints of green returned to most of the land. All was not well, however.
The enigmatic Shadow creatures began to walk the landscape openly, harassing adventurers and making travel through remote areas a dangerous proposition. In addition, floating Crystal Fragments appeared. While originally thought to be pieces of the Gelidites' Great Work, the vast numbers of Fragments that soon swarmed across Dereth seemed to imply another origin.
Fortunately, the most learned mages of the land had taken to heart the dire prognostications of the recovered Gelidite scriptures. The Archmages Celdiseth, Fadsahil al-Tashbi, Nuhmudira, and Shoyanen Kenchu offered for sale Master Mage Robes of fine quality, while they allowed their Apprentice Mage Robes to be sold by the local mages of various towns.
Non-mages were not left without fashionable attire, however, as the traditional warrior garb of Ispar began to appear in Dereth. Celdon, Amullian, and Koujia Armor became visible signs of a warrior's prowess.
Dereth: Coldeve PY 11 / Earth: February 2000
Providence smiled upon the refugee nations of Ispar in the month of Coldeve. Rumors sprang up of ancient storage vaults hidden across the length and breadth of Dereth. Bold parties sought these lost facilities out, and discovered the fragments of weapons used in the last war with the Shadows, some two thousand years before humans first arrived in this land. These were designed ages ago by alchemist and warrior Lord Atlan, and his wife, the enchanter Lady Maila. While the contributions of both were apparently vital to winning the last war, the documentation recovered suggests both died in the conflict -- hardly a reassuring statistic.
The Atlan artifacts were a set of melee weapons -- swords, daggers, maces, and so on -- fashioned from raw pyreal motes. Any one of a number of special, magical gemstones could be embedded in a weapon to imbue it with a particular elemental power, and by means of a special stone tool, each gemstone could be exchanged for another of a different power. Thus, for example, a frosting axe could be turned into a lightning axe. While pyreal motes could be recovered from any type of golem, the stones and the tool were securely stored in several remote and dangerous dungeons. One of these was defended by legions of powerful undead, one by fire elementals and magma golems, one by never-before-seen lightning elementals, and one by a band of Tumeroks. A final vault, named Incunabula, had been infested with Olthoi, who transformed it into the most deadly hive known to exist in Dereth.
Perhaps in response to the discovery of these weapons, the Shadows that had made overland travel a terrifying prospect melted away into the night. Very few remained under open skies, although this made some more nervous than relieved. New rumors abounded in taverns that some dark force was biding its time for a major assault.
Many powerful monarchs were whisked away to a remote island, said to lie to the southwest of Dereth. Here they were challenged by a dark presence to run a gauntlet filled with bizarre monsters. While most lost their sense of direction, or were slain by the gauntlet's fierce inhabitants, two of the most dangerous fiends in Dereth survived the trial: Blackthorn and Vidorian of Thistledown. They were rewarded with corrupted Shadow Stones, which could be fitted into the Atlan weapons. These stones gave a weapon tremendous power . . . though their use seemed to drain the will and sense of self from the weapon's wielder. It remained to be seen what the two so-called “Dark Masters” would be called upon to do. Fafhrd of Thistledown and Killean of Morningthaw made a heroic decision to defy the gathering evil, and refused to take the dark presence's test. Their selfless denial of easy power would be remembered in the days ahead.
The hand of darkness also sought allies using means as subtle as the monarch kidnappings were gross. Hamud ibn Rafik, leader of an extremist sect of the Gharu'ndim Zharalim called the Tenebrous Edge, made his presence known in Dereth. He and his daughter Devana sent many adventurers on a test of their own. Success earned a magnificent Pyreal Katar that pulsed with dark power, trailing streamers of sooty mist. Rumor held that Rafik had lost his mind taking to heart Archephoros' maxim that to fight darkness, sometimes one must become a shadow.
On the opposite edge of the A'mun desert, Dizah ibn Nadqab began excavating a massive crypt complex built beneath an ancient fortress near Zaikhal. He apparently ventured where he shouldn't have, and the ancient dead of the Impious Temple reawakened, chasing him out of the complex. In exchange for funds to continue his research, he let the bold enter the Temple. A shattered staff, apparently unusable, was discovered in its depths. Fortunately, some adventurers managed to find someone wise enough to repair it.
Not all the news was worrisome. The land continued to recover from the damage wrought by the Great Work of the Gelidites. Flowers blossomed all over Osteth, filling the air with drifting clouds of pollen. Rabbits, delighted by the return of warm weather, quickly did as rabbits are wont to do, resulting in a veritable plague of baby bunnies on the landscape, which nibbled crops and tripped inattentive travelers. Most were harmless irritants, but tales of more dangerous bunnies trickled out of the Direlands . . .
Meantime, the excavations of over twenty Meeting Halls that dated from the Empyrean Era of Lore were completed near the major towns of Dereth. These underground amphitheaters are thought to have been built for assemblies of nobles and scholars, or for the briefings of local troop garrisons. Allegiances across Dereth soon began holding their meetings in these structures. In other local news, Guthima the Wise, archmage of Arwic, moved down the road. Complaints from neighbors about crowds of mages practicing their craft all hours of the night convinced the town's nobility to build a new shop for him outside of town.
Lastly, as if in omen, the beginning of the month saw a titanic bridge, carved from dark volcanic glass, appear over the River Prosper between Holtburg, Cragstone, and Arwic. Formerly cloaked by the lost magical arts of the Empyrean, the Obsidian Span drew crowds of gawkers. Not a few mad souls actually jumped off of it. Sages could only speculate what other structures might lie in the open without our knowing.
Dereth: Wintersebb PY 11 / Earth: March 2000
The festive spring atmosphere of flowers, bees, and marriage ceremonies was disturbed by a series of earthquakes that preceded the eruption of bizarre Shadow Spires across the face of Dereth. These enormous constructions burst from the ground near the towns of Khayyaban, Tufa, Sawato, Tou-Tou, Cragstone, and Eastham. Travelers reported seeing Spires in the deep wilderness as well. Sages claimed they were somehow alive, but little could be proven, for no way could be found to enter them. Though brooding and malevolent-looking, the Spires floated harmlessly over the land for many days. Then came the abductions.
Many adventurers reported being magically pulled into the Spires, and subjected to a battery of questions by three invisible presences, each distinguished by the tone of its questions. Some of these questions were quite unfathomable, referring to people and events not yet familiar to humanity in Dereth. Most shocking, however, was the final question: Which of the six towns visited by the Spires should be destroyed? Some of the abducted answered with a random town, in fear of the power shown by the unseen presence; others chose a specific town out of spite. A few refused to choose. All were returned uninjured.
As the month progressed, disturbing changes were wrought in the heavens. The sun shrank, turning a dim, bloody red. The dark clouds faded to a sulfurous tint during storms. The moons of Alb'arel and Rez'arel swelled to grotesque size, and some feared they were falling. Through it all, the form of a demon lurked along the northern horizon, visible only during the most violent tempests.
In the face of what seemed to be an impending catastrophe, the people of Dereth worked feverishly to prepare their defenses. Many sought the ancient weapons of Atlan that had been recovered the previous month. Studying the Atlan weapons and referencing clues in ancient texts, the Master Smiths Jibril ibn Rashid, Koga Hideki, and Alean the Steel Forger managed to create suits of Shadowhunter Armor from the gems and shards taken from Shadows and Crystal Fragments. Those who brought them these hard-to-recover trophies could have them fashioned into this exquisite mail.
At the end of the month, an expectant silence hung over Dereth, broken only by the howl of the Spires and the frantic hammering of the Master Smiths. Ground tremors struck the island, as if something within the earth was stirring...
Dereth: Morningthaw PY 11 / Earth: April 2000
In Morningthaw, darkness and blood flooded the land in equal measure.
The month began inauspiciously enough. The pent-up tension of the previous month, the sense of threat, like a towering wave about to break, hovered still over the heads of all. The clouds still raced, the moons still loomed, and the figure of the Demon still appeared during storms . . . yet no Shadow activity broke the oppressive quiet. The biggest news was the murder of the Banderling thief known as Gertarh.
In the desert, Hamud ibn Rafik fought a personal battle with the forces of Darkness, and it did not go well with him. “We no longer fear our mortality,” he wrote his daughter Devana, “but there exist worse things than death.” Having given his loyalty to the forces of Bael'Zharon, he found himself less and less able to resist their commands. He told Devana of a portal in the South Direlands leading to a facility called the Nexus. He seemed to think that some key to defeating the Shadows could be found in that place. Unfortunately, those attempting to investigate the complex found the way blocked by strong doors. Some attempted to slip through by exploiting unpredictable forms of teleportation magic.
During the pause, explorers rediscovered the legendary Silifi of Crimson Stars -- an artifact many despaired of ever finding. The weapon had been lost after the death of the One Queen, when the warrior Wari al Sha'im had wandered into the A'mun Desert in search of new challenges. Apparently he met a violent end, for his weapon was broken into many pieces, none of which were easily found. It seemed that the blade had been utterly shattered. Only careful exploration of the desert lands allowed the bold to reconstruct the Silifi. Kayna bint Iswas, a recluse Walim scholar learned in the lore of the Silifi, was instrumental in forging this Isparian relic anew.
Then the Shadows launched their invasion. The first wave, lead by a Shadow Captain, hit Fort Tethana and the Direlands. After a sharp battle, the defenders of the Fort repulsed the dark warriors, slaying the Captain. Shouts of victory echoed from the walls, but the euphoria was short-lived. The Shadows advanced across the northern land bridge into Osteth, encamping themselves at Plateau. They were defeated there as well, and moved further east, into the Mount Esper area. Their last Captain moved to Stonehold to lead her forces, but was anticipated. A large force met her there, and she was cut down.
While the remnants of the Captains' forces could be found in the forests and on the slopes of Esper, the Shadow armies seemed to have gone underground once more. The illusion of peace was shattered a week later, as their armies poured into the Direlands once more, under the leadership of the dread general Black Ferah.
She first assaulted the religious retreat at Wei Jhou. The defenders were hard pressed, but once Ferah appeared to lead the attack personally, she was quickly surrounded and cut down. Again, the defenders rejoiced, but Ferah, as she fell, hissed, “A fine attempt, but this is but my shadow. I shall move on!” So she did, advancing across the southern land bridge into the Linvak Mountains. Ferah was perhaps too bold in stating her intentions, and was met in the hamlet of Kara by strong forces. She and her Lieutenant were smote down within seconds of appearing. Again, the Isparians rejoiced. After this easy victory, some of the more powerful defenders thought the battle no longer worth their time, and left the field.
This proved a mistake, as the general moved her command post into one of the howling Shadow Spires. The portals leading to this blasphemous construct appeared randomly on the landscape. Not a few adventurers wandered into these gateways, and were slain by Ferah and her bodyguard. In the end, the Isparians assembled at the portals to launch a cohesive assault on the Spire. Ferah again found herself overwhelmed. She fell, coldly stating, “A fine attempt . . . I see I must reformulate my plans.” Again, the Isparians celebrated a victory, and again it was but a temporary respite.
Eight days after the climactic fight in the Spire, Ler Rhan's forces flooded the wastes of the A'mun desert. Unlike Ferah, he elected to establish his headquarters in the Spires at the outset. However, the portals to the Spires proved unresponsive to powerful adventurers. Younger warriors, mages, and archers made sorties into the Spire and were beaten back by this fearsome apparition. Eventually, however, he was overcome, and moved on to the plains in the Aluvian-settled regions of Dereth. Again, he was tracked and defeated. Once more he moved, into the Spire found in the festering Blackmire Swamp. Once more he fell, and Black Ferah reappeared in the Direlands to give his troops time to regroup.
To assist her, she brought to life the spires that loomed close to the towns of Osteth. The Shadows of the Spires -- Shadow Children, for the most part -- were fought by the newest arrivals to Dereth, as the portals leading to their lairs refused to activate for the mighty. The town Spires, however, did field two new horrors: Shadow Sprites and Spire Shadows. Sprites appeared to be Zefir that had been absorbed by the darkness. Spire Shadows, possibly the most disgusting of Bael'Zharon's followers, appeared to have grown out of the floor of the Spires. The implications were troubling -- it now appeared that the Spires were bizarre, living fusions of multiple creatures, twisted and bent to the will of the Hopeslayer.
Each of the Shadow Spires, however, carried a secret treasure: a piece of a key. When these were combined in the proper fashion, the doors to the Nexus were opened. Massive parties flooded the facility. Legions of powerful Undead and Shadows resisted their advance, but the sheer numbers told on defenders. At the bottom of the Nexus hovered a floating crystal, similar to the Great Work of Frore. It was quickly swarmed by the vengeful Isparians, and fell. Tayway of Thistledown, Freeze of Frostfell, Al Neo of Morningthaw, Qua Badib of Leafcull, Hell Maker of Harvestgain, and Lop of Darktide made the killing blows, and were rewarded with chunks of the Crystal. At the fall of the Nexus, the Shadow-armies melted away into the Darkness, leaving behind only an echo of unsettling, strangely satisfied, laughter.
Many questions were left unanswered. Where was the third general, Isin Dule, and why had he not participated in the assault? What was the purpose of the invasion, and why, if the Shadows have limitless armies, did so few participate? What was the Nexus Crystal, why were the Shadows protecting it, and why did they melt away upon its destruction? Most importantly, what was to come? The generals, it seems, were pushed back, but not defeated, with what consequences for Bael'Zharon, no one knows.
Dereth: Solclaim PY 11 / Earth: May 2000
A hush fell upon the land. The sun, so recently dimmed to a wan, bloody red, flared bright yellow once more. Of the Shadows, there was no sign, and their intentions remained inscrutable.
Jaleh al-Thani sought an answer to the mystery in the depths of the Direlands, the only area where Shadows were known to remain in numbers. Leading a caravan of like-minded Sho and Gharu'ndim, the noble settled near the Darktide Festival Stone, and established the town of Ayan Baqur. Rather quickly, a group of Aluvians arrived, driven by the overcrowding in Arwic. Among this group was Ulgrim the Unpleasant, a discredited scholar. While Ulgrim's stout-fueled rants entertained many, few believed a word he spoke.
Ayan Baqur's most unique resident, however, was “Claude,” a Virindi who floated into town one afternoon with a wave and a hollow-voiced, “Greetings. Might a simple human archmage dispense his wares from within your defenseless hovel?” Claude was given a tent a safe distance from his “fellow humans.” Whether the residents accepted him primarily out of fear, curiosity, or amusement remains open to debate.
Meanwhile, in the north, Lady Tallial acquired a seneschal to oversee her long-neglected tasks at Neydisa Castle. The Lady had been in a deep depression since the death of Sir Joffre Tremblant in Frore. Hence, her decision to take on the untrustworthy Gormling may be forgiven. Like Ulgrim, the seneschal could neither hold nor forgo his drink. Worse, he was discovered to be an agent of her rival, the bandit MacDougal. Tallial, who spent her days staring wretchedly at mementos Tremblant had left her, seemed oblivious to her peril.
Harking to the abandoned arts of Ispar, weaponsmiths recreated Viamont's piercing rapier weapons, sneeringly referred to as “the big stick-pins” by Aluvian highlanders. Many were promptly stolen by Drudges seeking shiny objects, and eventually passed on to more powerful monsters. Other new weapons were discovered by adventurers afield: a cursed dagger and electrical throwing daggers belonging to the elusive assassin Oswald. Again, the crafty rogue managed to evade his pursuers.
Finally, in the fastness of his mountain stronghold, the assassin Hamud ibn Rafik continued to fight his lonely war against the dominion of the Shadows. When some Tenebrous Edge initiates came to see him, they discovered he had been transformed into a Shadow himself, with barely any ability to speak. “I am unable to leave my chambers in this ancient, cursed fortress,” he had written his daughter. “I know now what will become of me. The Dark Master himself spoke to me and told me what lies in store . . . What awaits me now surpasses even the depraved rites of the Milantans.” Alone and tormented, the entity that had been Hamud stoically awaited his fate.
Dereth: Seedsow PY 11 / Earth: June 2000
The Shadow Spires, which held ceaseless vigil over six towns since Wintersebb, began to move. Almost simultaneously, a wave of fierce portal-energy squalls slid down the length of the Direlands, bringing with them fiercer varieties of banderling, shreth, and other familiar creatures. The scholars of Hebian-to, Zaikhal, and Cragstone argued that these events were far too coincidental and had to be somehow related. It was previously known that the Spires could disturb portalspace, as portals had begun to appear at random on the landscape at the same time the Spires rose.
Other creatures made their first appearance in Seedsow. Several powerful new types of undead skeletons began to rise from the sands and mires of the Direlands, and were seen to march to the northeast. As well, beautiful and deadly Empyrean diamond golem artifacts flooded out from long-abandoned storehouses.
Fortunately, the skilled bowyer, Yuan Hanzu, completed his research into replicating the old composite bows of Ispar with locally available materials. Archers and Crossbowmen across Dereth rejoiced, washed their hands often, and promptly joined the hoards of warriors and mages crowding into a number of newly discovered dungeons, heavily populated with Olthoi, Tuskers, Lugians, and other creatures.
The most mysterious discovery of the month involved a number of unusual new war magic spells, previously unknown to the arts of Ispar. Wandering mages in the wilderness claimed that mysterious voices from the darkness offered them “long-dormant powers” if they attempted bizarre combinations of reagents. The source of these whispers was not discovered. While hard to learn and cast, the new spells, including rings and streaks, quickly spread by word of mouth.
In local news, Yu Vuo-Ki and her sister Dansha-Ki moved to the north of the besieged town of Dryreach. Dansha, a rather inattentive woman, found herself captured by the roving Tumerok patrols that surrounded Dryreach, and had to be rescued by passing adventurers.
Dereth: Leafdawning PY 11 / Earth: July 2000
The Shadow Spires continued their slow, imperturbable glide over the landscape, moving towards goals none could yet guess. Small groups of Shadows could still be found wandering the landscape, but their army, and their generals, remained sight unseen. Many began to wonder what the enemy was planning, if anything. Some optimists insisted that the dark ones had forgotten about this world, and gone on the bigger conquests elsewhere.
In north- and southwestern Osteth, residents were harried by an influx of creatures from the Direlands, driven east by the new, ferocious creatures that arrived in Seedsow. They were not the only creatures busy, however, as the massive Lugians discovered an ore with unique properties in the Linvak Mountains to the south. Soon they had opened three mines to recover this “Chorizite,” which appeared to be conventional metal that had somehow been rendered magically “dead,” and could not be affected by enchanters. When humanity discovered this marvelous material, the workers quickly found themselves overrun with eager would-be miners.
While the Lugian miners logged a staggering number of workplace accidents with their supervisors, Isparian sages found a variety of uses for Chorizite. Refined and forged, it could make weapons capable of piercing all protective enchantments to self and armor, although these weapons also shrugged off all manner of arcane enhancement. Ground, it could be used as a reagent by mages. As a result of Chorizite's unique properties, spells that used powdered Chorizite were able to dispel enchantments on their target. Distilled, the ore could be used in alchemy, allowing those skilled in this art to make drinkable potions that would dispel low-level enchantments.
Meanwhile, one of the earliest defenders of Dereth was found to be not quite as dead as had been earlier assumed. The crypt of Mi Karu-Li, perhaps the most famous user of the Sho jitte weapon (some said he was the only user) was found empty. A note found nearby complained that he had been buried alive, and had gone off to complete his work. Explorers did later find Krau-Li, quite dead and half-decayed, but still maintaining that he was alive. In exchange for the return of one of his older jittes, he offered the reward of his newly developed “improved” jitte.
The smiths of Dereth also developed new weapons. Swordstaves and tridents came into use by spear users, as did spiked clubs for those who preferred the mace. Perhaps inspired by the ingenuity of humans, the mewling drudges “developed” wooden boards with nails stuck through them, and used them to poke innocent passersby. The giant Lugians took this “innovation” one step further. Young Lugian hooligans were soon to be found bashing one another with bigger boards, and bigger nails.
The biggest news of the month was the discovery of a passage to a heretofore-unknown island. A pair of undead heralds arrived in the Direlands, one in the northeast at the undead fortress of Chalicmere, and the other in the southeast, at a trio of sandy old crypts. In exchange for huge sums of money, these emissaries would cast a portal to the island of Aerlinthe, lying to the northeast of Dereth.
Aerlinthe was an intensely volcanic island, with several peaks ringing a central lagoon. It seemed, in fact, that the island's nature had been the death of its original population long ago; a ruined port was discovered along the southeast shore, its inhabitants frozen into positions of horror by falling ash. Many fossilized undead skeletons still wandered the island, as did a host of bizarre new creatures. Coral golems lined the navigation channel into the lagoon. Tenuous vapor and plasma golems roamed the calderas of the volcanoes and the underground.
Intrepid adventurers, following instructions found on the bones of an undead Empyrean smith, managed to restart the old forge mechanisms built into the central mountain of Tenkarrdun. With a rumble that could be heard as far away as Ayan Baqur, the volcano came to life. Plumes of magma and a hoard of powerful blue-white fire elementals issued forth from the caldera of great Tenkarrdun. Those who visited the steaming crater found themselves overwhelmed and driven back.
However, the sighting of a great beast brought them back for more. The “Behemoth of Tenkarrdun,” a huge and powerful (though stupid) magma golem, had crawled up from the depths of the mountain to blister and squash all who dared approach its home. It was, eventually, overwhelmed and killed. Some say a mere duo managed to slay it, others insist that it took an assault of nearly a hundred to bring it down.
Unfortunately, Aerlinthe has managed to keep its remaining secrets for the time being. As Leafdawning drew to a close, the bulk of the invading force of fire elementals still held the caldera of Mount Tenkarrdun. While many searched unsuccessfully for some obscure, hidden method to end their reign, few seemed willing to directly challenge them in open combat. Perhaps this was due to the fierce conditions in the crater, or perhaps because what commanded the occupying forces could not easily be discerned.
Material retrieved from original Zone caches available at http://web.archive.org.
Original Link (now dead) - http://www.zone.com/asheronscall/ASHEhistory12-01.asp
Dereth: A Brief History for Travelers
by Allan Maki
Turbine Entertainment Software
Frostfell PY 12: The First Strike
Earth: December 2001
Candeth Martine, once a hero to the people of Dereth, has made his first move. Beneath the cover of the winter sky, Martine and his troops laid waste to all but six of the arrival points on Dereth. None know what has happened to the souls that were being transported to Dereth through the former arrival points, but these attacks can only be seen as a declaration of war.
High Queen Elysa Strathelar, having been informed of these assaults, has dispatched her guard to reinforce the remaining six outposts in the towns of Shoushi, Yaraq and Holtburg. Her efforts have produced new training settlements equipped to better educate and train the new arrivals from Ispar. Yet within the walls of the Training Academies all is not well. Martine's forces continue their efforts at the outer edges of these schools and newcomers are called upon to assist the Guards in the defense.
To assist in the war effort, experts in the use of thrown weapons have developed a new device for launching uniquely crafted darts at enemies. These atlatls have been distributed to vendors across Dereth in hopes that they will be improved upon by savvy crafters and brought into wide use by other practitioners. During the creation of these weapons, experts learned also how to balance their throws while arming themselves with shields. However, the atlatl's length and the balance needed to maintain proper aim and strength prevent the use of shields with these new weapons.
In the halls of the Arcanum, Nuhmidira and her apprentices continue to provide “keepers” for carpenters to place before the new houses they build. Rumors spread that the Arcanum is also behind the “living” candy sticks left at the town centers bestowing beneficial spells to all who pass through. Their silence on the matter has not proven a deterrent in this belief.
A perfected art of cobbling has yielded the creation of slippers made from the carcasses of rabbits throughout Dereth. At home or on the streets, these slippers can be found on the feet of travelers, a welcome distraction from the threat that has so recently appeared.
Trees, lights, and logs for the fire can be purchased from lumberjacks outside of several towns. Even in this dark time the festival period will not be denied.
A new shadow grows over the land of Dereth. This enemy is the most frightening that the people have yet faced. He was once one of them, an Isparian, but the twisted machinations and magic of the Virindi have driven him to a breaking point. Now, filled with hatred and rage, he turns his sights on those he once considered kin. It is an uncertain future and fate that the people of Dereth now face.
Original Link (now dead) - http://zone.msn.com/asheronscall/ASHEhistory11.asp
Dereth: A Brief History for Travelers
by Chris L'Etoile
Portal Year 11 -- The Fourth Sending of Darkness November to December 2000
Three thousand years ago, a tragedy occurred. Harken; it shall now be told.
A herald burned across the southern sky one morning; a fiery drop, like the Watcher that visits Auberean every few hundred years, yet moving far more quickly. Shortly after this sign, a veil drew over the sun. Rain fell, and the drops were black and cold. The trees and grasses withered. The clouds built until noon was mere twilight, and the wind blew as cold as stone in winter. The people wanted for their crops and herds. Some called it the end. Some said it was the judgment of light, and that evils must be atoned for.
“Surely,” they reasoned, “it could not be any evil of ours that invoked this calamity.” Many turned to the Dericost. “It must have been those miserable, tainted people. Did their ancestors not bind their own to rotting flesh, and seek to bring the world under their heel? This must be their fault. The mercy we showed them has turned the light from our shoulders. Now we must force them to atone for their infamy.”
So the Dericost were starved.
What little could be grown was taken from them. They died by the millions. And as they died, well-fed missionaries told them, “You brought this on yourselves.”
So they hated.
One among them, a man of the village of Daralet named Ilservian Palacost, could endure no more. He spoke in anger to the Elders, saying, “You have food enough for many years in your storehouses. Yea, for centuries you have tithed the crops of all in this land, while mouthing pretty words of light and mercy and redemption. Now you feast while we starve! My firstborn son shall die anon. He is an innocent. Share out your food, and spare him!”
The Elders' pointed beards wagged over their round bellies as they said, “It is for your own good.” Ilservian was run out of town, though not before he vowed to find the edge of the darkness that hung over the eaves of the earth.
He did not depart alone. His closest friends accompanied him. Elithra, a Haebran mage possessing a wintry beauty unsurpassed save by Leikotha. Ler Rhan, a once-corpulent scribe who spent much (some said too much) time spinning tales for the children of the town. Omadin, a rough farm boy embittered by the starvation of his entire clan. Ferah, a tall warrior woman whose blue-green eyes bespoke Falatacot blood. Foremost stood Isin Dule, a failed seminary and friend of Ilservian since childhood. A small group of sympathizers also joined them.
They wandered far into the endless frigid mud of the wastelands, vainly seeking light. At last Ilservian called to the darkness in anger. At this, many deserted him. His friends did not. But there was no answer, save perhaps a sibilant ghost of a laugh. Ilservian pressed on, growing weaker, shouting his fury and anguish into the wind and rain.
At last, something answered.
Many turns of the world later, a shadow fell upon Daralet. The rains had ceased by then, and the world enjoyed an extended spring. But in Daralet, the children disappeared. One by one, at first, and then in numbers. First the poor and unwanted, then the children of the garrison. Whispers filled the night. Malevolence brooded on the hills around the town. Stupefied with terror, the people boarded themselves in their houses.
Word reached the outside, and an army was dispatched. It found only empty buildings, in many cases still boarded from within. On the city wall, the Elders were found impaled, and with their blood was written: “The proud shall know damnation.” With these words had the victorious troops of Yalain and Haebrous put the last undead nobles of Dericost to the torch.
The army marched beyond the desolate town, and found a valley filled with a strange, whispering darkness. Above the shadows, the crowns of trees stood black and wasted. One was seen to subside into the mist, melting away like ice. Before the army went away from there, huge coils of grey entrails were seen above the mist, rising and diving again like the fins of great sea creatures.
The army encamped upon a plain that night, and none saw them again. A lone girl, driven mad by horror, returned to tell the tale. The watch fires trembled and bled away. The stars faded. The ground turned grey and swallowed men. The general Lord Atlan was ripped apart. The Shadows had come alive and taken them.
Ranks of living night swept across the continents of Dericost and Haebrous. A black beast led them, howling at the forefront of every charge. The few survivors called this apparition the Slayer of Hope. Armies were put before it, and swept aside.
The Emperor convened the five most learned mages of the land for council. Old Viceroy Uweden Kormar came clad in the frost blue robes of Gelid, the Dericost province he had governed before its fall. Lord Kerenth Portenaer was promoted from the ranks of the Hieromancer Order, where he was held in great esteem. Lady Adja, prophetess and priestess, sailed from far Ithaenc. Lady Rajael Fellarien was released from her lonely tower in the austral wastes. Maila Realaidain, the gentle widow of Atlan, completed them.
They studied, and they worried. It seemed the enemy's strength flowed from some other place, an abeyance of light deep within the earth, yet beyond the world they knew. A power, potent and invasive as nerve poison, leached from this other place, to the Hopeslayer, and on to his horrifying servants. At Dernehale the council fought a shadow-woman calling herself Elithra of Daralet, and only with the greatest of efforts was she defeated. The Imperial Archives were consulted, and in a brief dispatch from Dericost, that name was found among the exiled companions of Ilservian Palacost. The true name of the Slayer of Hope was known.
An impetuous boy, talented only with a small ability for noticing details and drawing connections between them, called the work of Nilrhem Facill to the attention of the council. It was possible, he said, to seal Ilservian in a small portion of the “alternate world” Facill wrote of. The council agreed. As the island city-states of the Empire withered and shrank before the crawling chaos, they constructed a device that would realize the boy's plan.
The last enchantments were bound to the mechanism of the trap on the island of Ireth Lassel, later called Dereth. The council worked feverishly, as did the boy, knowing damnation was stretching forth its hand across the water. The darkness raced across the seas, as if called by the sputtering, flaring energies of the other plane.
Ilservian came to the site of their work. His chaotic mist ate away the rock below the fortress. His Thorns loomed close, blasting the walls with entropic energies. The desert plain below was black with a living carpet of Shadow-entities. Ilservian stormed through the corridors, slaying all who tried to stop him. At the end, he came before the council and the floating stones of the trap. As if ensorcelled, he waded through them, crushing Uweden's skull, reaching for the pulsing violet light.
The council cast their final spell, and Ilservian was thrown into the other realm. Everything for over two-thirds of a human mile around the site was utterly destroyed, and a vast wasteland of cracked and scorched earth marred the southwest of Ireth Lassel. The council was slain, but the darkness ebbed and slipped away. It did not leave altogether. That which had empowered Ilservian's rage remained, shrieking, waiting. Its remaining servants in this world melted away into a thousand hidden places. The surviving members of Ilservian's inner circle, too powerful to be killed, were merely made discorporate by the blast.
The trap burst into six fragments, but the Empire was only able to recover five. The last piece was never seen again by living eyes. That should have been the end of the tale, save for the Gelidites.
The capital of old Dericost, home to the dread necromancers, was the brooding Plateau of Gelid. Its living population had been rounded up by the victorious armies, and marched to reservations on the plains of Haebrous. But they were sore abused there, and found comfort in an apocalyptic faith based on half-remembered prophecies. After an age of cleansing ice, they believed, they would master the globe once more. After a particularly brutal inquisition, many fled to Ireth Lassel. There they hid themselves away in the mountains, and excavated an underground city.
It was during the digging that a young mage named Frisirth found a beautiful, sparkling crystal. Over the years, he studied it intently. He found it had an unusual magical connection to the deep earth, a potential to draw up and store vast amounts of energy. Frisirth announced to the Gelidites that the fulfillment of prophecy was at hand. By enchanting the crystal, they could extract the heat energy from the ground.
They bent their own energies to this task. The world cooled. Far above, where now new kingdoms lay, snow began to fall. Yet at the last moment, disaster struck. A human expedition bumbled into their lost city, and the Gelidites were forced to slay them. Other humans came in search of the lost party. They slaughtered the Gelidites, and destroyed their “Great Work.” As the malignant crystal shattered, darkness swallowed the center of the room, and a faint, eager chuckle was heard.
The sixth piece of the council's snare was never seen again by living eyes. But the Gelidites, desiring to witness their prophecy fulfilled, had used the proscribed arts of their ancestors to turn their backs on time, and chain their wills to dead and rotting flesh.
The Shadows began to venture from their hidden places of power. Ilservian's surviving friends became corporeal once more and raised the Thorns, using them to alter the patterns of magic in the world. Ferah and Ler Rhan weighed the measure of the strange outlanders that had come to their world with probing attacks and individual trials. Only two proved useful to them: the “Dark Masters” Blackthorn and Vidorian. They were given items of power, and told that they would be called upon in the great days to come.
But Isin Dule had misgivings. He remembered the final days of the last war, his friend's blank expression when the planar energy was felt, and the compulsion that had come upon him. “It is likely a trap, brother,” he told Ilservian, and still they had gone.
Dule, brooding in the wastes, steered a fateful course. He took his portion of the Shadows into his confidence, telling them that the pieces of the council's trap must be protected. If his friend should be released, he feared it would be the end of all. Ilservian was not fully in control of his own mind. What would happen after his vengeance was slaked? The price that the darkness of the wasteland would demand of them was not yet known. But Dule's first attempt to stave off disaster failed. The humans of Ispar gained access to the Nexus Facility, and a second piece of Ilservian's prison was destroyed.
There were remnants of Dericost in the world beyond the shattered Gelidites. On far Aerlinthe, the Lady Aerfalle observed the passing days and rising blight with worry. She sent her emissaries into the world, contacting her old friends and enemies.
The fractious Undead came to rare accord, and massed an army. For its commander, they chose Anadil, the last great general of their old realm. He set his banner in the creaking jungles of Ithaenc Isle. At his side stood Asmolum, an ancient schemer and diviner. Asmolum's agents soon located three more fragments of the council's device. But others under the night sky observed their scurrying. . .
Anadil sent a force to garrison two of the fragment vaults. Dule's Shadows, following them, moved to defend the third vault, named Caulnalain. But Dule's fellow generals had also witnessed the movements of the Undead, and made ready an assault. This, they decided, would be the decisive battle of the campaign to free their friend.
Complicating things further, there was a third faction of Shadows in the world, predating Ilservian. They were neither loyal to him, nor to the rogue Dule. These Shadows were even farther from what they had once been. They were a single mind in myriad bodies, subordinate to the will of. . . something. It was these ancient creatures that brought about the Darkest Night. While Ferah and Ler Rhan's Thorns attacked Cragstone and Arwic, drawing the attentions of the defenders, the elder Shadows destroyed a long-buried circle of standing stones beneath the oasis of Tufa.
Even as the rubble of Arwic was settling, Ler Rhan's forces invested Anadil's garrison at the Fenmalain vault. The fighting was fierce and lethal, but ultimately indecisive. Reinforcements promised by Dule failed to arrive. Ler Rhan, livid, accused Dule of treason. Before any action could be taken by the divided Shadows, the Isparians came into the fray again. They swept through all three vaults, battering through both Anadil and Dule's defenders, and destroyed all three crystals. Again, the immigrant races had served as an unpredictable force of change.
The fate of the world hinged now on the final piece of the council's trap. This was the most cunningly hidden one, titled the Shard of the Herald. The Undead found it first, again through the divinations of Asmolum. It brooded in the catacombs beneath the Cathedral of Ithaenc, near at hand to Anadil's encampment.
Almost as soon as Anadil was informed, the Shadows knew, for they had long infiltrated the rotting army. When the Undead attempted to gain access, they found the final portal had been altered such that only those who'd sworn themselves to Ilservian could pass through.
Taken aback, the Undead leadership split the key to the catacombs into three pieces. The first remained in the keeping of Aerfalle, the second given to the commander of the Undead legion from Chalicmere Castle in the Direlands, and the last to the head of the legion lent by Aerfalle's own political faction. Again, the Shadow infiltrators among the Undead foiled their plans. The last commander was murdered, and his key given to the keeping of Ler Rhan's Shadow Children.
Anadil sent emissaries to make contact with the enigmatic Virindi, knowing them to be similarly distressed by the chaos of the Shadows, and thus potential allies.
One last time, the humans acted unexpectedly. Finding new paths to Ithaenc, a tide of human warriors and mages flooded Anadil and his army. The old general was slain, but not before asking his attackers to take up his burden. “Don't let it end like this, young ones. If you must send me to the wind, my task is yours to complete. Protect the stone.”
And so they did. An unprecedented coalition of Isparian barons recovered the pieces of the key, and set a watch on the catacombs and the terrible, hallucination-inducing black stone that hummed and spun at its heart. The stalwart members of the Shard Vigil repulsed several attacks by humans in the service of Ilservian.
Frustrated, Ferah and Ler Rhan assumed human guise once more to contact the Dark Masters. Blackthorn, who had turned his coat and become a member of the Vigil, wisely disappeared for a week. Vidorian, however, sought out her aggrieved masters, and begged forgiveness for her failure to break the Vigil and the stone.
On a quiet night in the third week of the Vigil, the two Shadow generals and Vidorian swept into the dungeon, driving the defenders back and shattering the Shard of the Herald. With a shriek that could be heard across worlds, Ilservian Palacost was freed.
Isin Dule knew his time would be all too brief once Ferah and Ler Rhan spoke with Ilservian. Thus he offered assistance to the fledgling Virindi-Undead alliance.
With a heavy heart, I decided I must also cast my die with this unsavory coalition.
All unknown, we gathered in the wastelands that mark the wreckage of the Jailne Lyceum -- the place at which Ilservian was last defeated. Each of the inhuman powers held an item that would sap the power of our Enemy. I believed I had the knowledge to combine these items into a single, united thaumaturgic assault.
But the time was not yet right; the items had to be prepared. So it was that I challenged Ilservian openly. It was nearly my end. That which empowers him is far beyond my feeble powers. Had he not been determined to toy with me, I should have died most swiftly.
While I distracted the Enemy, Lady Elysa Strathelar set her feet upon the roads of the world, seeking knowledge of which monarchs could be trusted and which could not. She charged those who walked in light with the recovery and safe transport of the various pieces of the spell. The items were to be delivered to Luminary Golems in the Isparian capital cities. These entities, relics of ancient and lost demiurgic arts, were immune to the influence of shadow.
The children of the other sun recovered the items. The great binding was cast, and Ilservian was much enfeebled. At this, humanity charged into the breach. Their losses were terrible. The man of Daralet had already surrounded himself with the misbegotten leavings of elemental chaos. These things lurked among the flapping, green-tinted membranes of his inner sanctum, where the walls breathed and ate the flesh of men. After numerous assaults, a coordinated team of mages, warriors, and archers destroyed the physical form of Ilservian Palacost.
But this was not the end of him; rather, it was the end of the part of him that remained mortal. His dark spirit descended, summoned by whatever created him. Before he left, his scream of betrayal was heard by the triumphant humans. “Dule! Base traitor! I sense your art in this artifact assembled by the last Yalain. Thee and thine are banished from Our sight for all time, and ye shall be hunted until the stars fall from their course! Marked are thee!”
Ilservian's story, then, has not ended. He goes on. His generals Ferah and Ler Rhan go on. And his best friend Dule, somewhere in the lonely wastes, also goes on. The seeds sown here may not be reaped for a generation, but their poison will spread. There will be accounting. We have only won a reprieve.
These were the reagents of the binding. A fragment of the Virindi Singularity was used to divert a portion of Bael'Zharon's power into the wilds of portalspace. The Heart of Shadow, supplied by Isin Dule, was a partial manifestation of Bael'Zharon's connection to the Shadow World. Its destruction sapped him of still more power. Last came the skull of a child, enchanted with lost Falatacot bindings by the Dericost Undead.
The skull of Avroen Palacost, the son of Ilservian. The skull of a child of Daralet.
Think kindly on Ilservian, if you can. Who among you can claim that your grief should be less? For my part I will bow my head, and pray that father and son may find peace.
-- Asheron Realaidain
by Chris L'Etoile
Portal Year 11 -- The Fourth Sending of Darkness November to December 2000
Three thousand years ago, a tragedy occurred. Harken; it shall now be told.
A herald burned across the southern sky one morning; a fiery drop, like the Watcher that visits Auberean every few hundred years, yet moving far more quickly. Shortly after this sign, a veil drew over the sun. Rain fell, and the drops were black and cold. The trees and grasses withered. The clouds built until noon was mere twilight, and the wind blew as cold as stone in winter. The people wanted for their crops and herds. Some called it the end. Some said it was the judgment of light, and that evils must be atoned for.
“Surely,” they reasoned, “it could not be any evil of ours that invoked this calamity.” Many turned to the Dericost. “It must have been those miserable, tainted people. Did their ancestors not bind their own to rotting flesh, and seek to bring the world under their heel? This must be their fault. The mercy we showed them has turned the light from our shoulders. Now we must force them to atone for their infamy.”
So the Dericost were starved.
What little could be grown was taken from them. They died by the millions. And as they died, well-fed missionaries told them, “You brought this on yourselves.”
So they hated.
One among them, a man of the village of Daralet named Ilservian Palacost, could endure no more. He spoke in anger to the Elders, saying, “You have food enough for many years in your storehouses. Yea, for centuries you have tithed the crops of all in this land, while mouthing pretty words of light and mercy and redemption. Now you feast while we starve! My firstborn son shall die anon. He is an innocent. Share out your food, and spare him!”
The Elders' pointed beards wagged over their round bellies as they said, “It is for your own good.” Ilservian was run out of town, though not before he vowed to find the edge of the darkness that hung over the eaves of the earth.
He did not depart alone. His closest friends accompanied him. Elithra, a Haebran mage possessing a wintry beauty unsurpassed save by Leikotha. Ler Rhan, a once-corpulent scribe who spent much (some said too much) time spinning tales for the children of the town. Omadin, a rough farm boy embittered by the starvation of his entire clan. Ferah, a tall warrior woman whose blue-green eyes bespoke Falatacot blood. Foremost stood Isin Dule, a failed seminary and friend of Ilservian since childhood. A small group of sympathizers also joined them.
They wandered far into the endless frigid mud of the wastelands, vainly seeking light. At last Ilservian called to the darkness in anger. At this, many deserted him. His friends did not. But there was no answer, save perhaps a sibilant ghost of a laugh. Ilservian pressed on, growing weaker, shouting his fury and anguish into the wind and rain.
At last, something answered.
Many turns of the world later, a shadow fell upon Daralet. The rains had ceased by then, and the world enjoyed an extended spring. But in Daralet, the children disappeared. One by one, at first, and then in numbers. First the poor and unwanted, then the children of the garrison. Whispers filled the night. Malevolence brooded on the hills around the town. Stupefied with terror, the people boarded themselves in their houses.
Word reached the outside, and an army was dispatched. It found only empty buildings, in many cases still boarded from within. On the city wall, the Elders were found impaled, and with their blood was written: “The proud shall know damnation.” With these words had the victorious troops of Yalain and Haebrous put the last undead nobles of Dericost to the torch.
The army marched beyond the desolate town, and found a valley filled with a strange, whispering darkness. Above the shadows, the crowns of trees stood black and wasted. One was seen to subside into the mist, melting away like ice. Before the army went away from there, huge coils of grey entrails were seen above the mist, rising and diving again like the fins of great sea creatures.
The army encamped upon a plain that night, and none saw them again. A lone girl, driven mad by horror, returned to tell the tale. The watch fires trembled and bled away. The stars faded. The ground turned grey and swallowed men. The general Lord Atlan was ripped apart. The Shadows had come alive and taken them.
Ranks of living night swept across the continents of Dericost and Haebrous. A black beast led them, howling at the forefront of every charge. The few survivors called this apparition the Slayer of Hope. Armies were put before it, and swept aside.
The Emperor convened the five most learned mages of the land for council. Old Viceroy Uweden Kormar came clad in the frost blue robes of Gelid, the Dericost province he had governed before its fall. Lord Kerenth Portenaer was promoted from the ranks of the Hieromancer Order, where he was held in great esteem. Lady Adja, prophetess and priestess, sailed from far Ithaenc. Lady Rajael Fellarien was released from her lonely tower in the austral wastes. Maila Realaidain, the gentle widow of Atlan, completed them.
They studied, and they worried. It seemed the enemy's strength flowed from some other place, an abeyance of light deep within the earth, yet beyond the world they knew. A power, potent and invasive as nerve poison, leached from this other place, to the Hopeslayer, and on to his horrifying servants. At Dernehale the council fought a shadow-woman calling herself Elithra of Daralet, and only with the greatest of efforts was she defeated. The Imperial Archives were consulted, and in a brief dispatch from Dericost, that name was found among the exiled companions of Ilservian Palacost. The true name of the Slayer of Hope was known.
An impetuous boy, talented only with a small ability for noticing details and drawing connections between them, called the work of Nilrhem Facill to the attention of the council. It was possible, he said, to seal Ilservian in a small portion of the “alternate world” Facill wrote of. The council agreed. As the island city-states of the Empire withered and shrank before the crawling chaos, they constructed a device that would realize the boy's plan.
The last enchantments were bound to the mechanism of the trap on the island of Ireth Lassel, later called Dereth. The council worked feverishly, as did the boy, knowing damnation was stretching forth its hand across the water. The darkness raced across the seas, as if called by the sputtering, flaring energies of the other plane.
Ilservian came to the site of their work. His chaotic mist ate away the rock below the fortress. His Thorns loomed close, blasting the walls with entropic energies. The desert plain below was black with a living carpet of Shadow-entities. Ilservian stormed through the corridors, slaying all who tried to stop him. At the end, he came before the council and the floating stones of the trap. As if ensorcelled, he waded through them, crushing Uweden's skull, reaching for the pulsing violet light.
The council cast their final spell, and Ilservian was thrown into the other realm. Everything for over two-thirds of a human mile around the site was utterly destroyed, and a vast wasteland of cracked and scorched earth marred the southwest of Ireth Lassel. The council was slain, but the darkness ebbed and slipped away. It did not leave altogether. That which had empowered Ilservian's rage remained, shrieking, waiting. Its remaining servants in this world melted away into a thousand hidden places. The surviving members of Ilservian's inner circle, too powerful to be killed, were merely made discorporate by the blast.
The trap burst into six fragments, but the Empire was only able to recover five. The last piece was never seen again by living eyes. That should have been the end of the tale, save for the Gelidites.
The capital of old Dericost, home to the dread necromancers, was the brooding Plateau of Gelid. Its living population had been rounded up by the victorious armies, and marched to reservations on the plains of Haebrous. But they were sore abused there, and found comfort in an apocalyptic faith based on half-remembered prophecies. After an age of cleansing ice, they believed, they would master the globe once more. After a particularly brutal inquisition, many fled to Ireth Lassel. There they hid themselves away in the mountains, and excavated an underground city.
It was during the digging that a young mage named Frisirth found a beautiful, sparkling crystal. Over the years, he studied it intently. He found it had an unusual magical connection to the deep earth, a potential to draw up and store vast amounts of energy. Frisirth announced to the Gelidites that the fulfillment of prophecy was at hand. By enchanting the crystal, they could extract the heat energy from the ground.
They bent their own energies to this task. The world cooled. Far above, where now new kingdoms lay, snow began to fall. Yet at the last moment, disaster struck. A human expedition bumbled into their lost city, and the Gelidites were forced to slay them. Other humans came in search of the lost party. They slaughtered the Gelidites, and destroyed their “Great Work.” As the malignant crystal shattered, darkness swallowed the center of the room, and a faint, eager chuckle was heard.
The sixth piece of the council's snare was never seen again by living eyes. But the Gelidites, desiring to witness their prophecy fulfilled, had used the proscribed arts of their ancestors to turn their backs on time, and chain their wills to dead and rotting flesh.
The Shadows began to venture from their hidden places of power. Ilservian's surviving friends became corporeal once more and raised the Thorns, using them to alter the patterns of magic in the world. Ferah and Ler Rhan weighed the measure of the strange outlanders that had come to their world with probing attacks and individual trials. Only two proved useful to them: the “Dark Masters” Blackthorn and Vidorian. They were given items of power, and told that they would be called upon in the great days to come.
But Isin Dule had misgivings. He remembered the final days of the last war, his friend's blank expression when the planar energy was felt, and the compulsion that had come upon him. “It is likely a trap, brother,” he told Ilservian, and still they had gone.
Dule, brooding in the wastes, steered a fateful course. He took his portion of the Shadows into his confidence, telling them that the pieces of the council's trap must be protected. If his friend should be released, he feared it would be the end of all. Ilservian was not fully in control of his own mind. What would happen after his vengeance was slaked? The price that the darkness of the wasteland would demand of them was not yet known. But Dule's first attempt to stave off disaster failed. The humans of Ispar gained access to the Nexus Facility, and a second piece of Ilservian's prison was destroyed.
There were remnants of Dericost in the world beyond the shattered Gelidites. On far Aerlinthe, the Lady Aerfalle observed the passing days and rising blight with worry. She sent her emissaries into the world, contacting her old friends and enemies.
The fractious Undead came to rare accord, and massed an army. For its commander, they chose Anadil, the last great general of their old realm. He set his banner in the creaking jungles of Ithaenc Isle. At his side stood Asmolum, an ancient schemer and diviner. Asmolum's agents soon located three more fragments of the council's device. But others under the night sky observed their scurrying. . .
Anadil sent a force to garrison two of the fragment vaults. Dule's Shadows, following them, moved to defend the third vault, named Caulnalain. But Dule's fellow generals had also witnessed the movements of the Undead, and made ready an assault. This, they decided, would be the decisive battle of the campaign to free their friend.
Complicating things further, there was a third faction of Shadows in the world, predating Ilservian. They were neither loyal to him, nor to the rogue Dule. These Shadows were even farther from what they had once been. They were a single mind in myriad bodies, subordinate to the will of. . . something. It was these ancient creatures that brought about the Darkest Night. While Ferah and Ler Rhan's Thorns attacked Cragstone and Arwic, drawing the attentions of the defenders, the elder Shadows destroyed a long-buried circle of standing stones beneath the oasis of Tufa.
Even as the rubble of Arwic was settling, Ler Rhan's forces invested Anadil's garrison at the Fenmalain vault. The fighting was fierce and lethal, but ultimately indecisive. Reinforcements promised by Dule failed to arrive. Ler Rhan, livid, accused Dule of treason. Before any action could be taken by the divided Shadows, the Isparians came into the fray again. They swept through all three vaults, battering through both Anadil and Dule's defenders, and destroyed all three crystals. Again, the immigrant races had served as an unpredictable force of change.
The fate of the world hinged now on the final piece of the council's trap. This was the most cunningly hidden one, titled the Shard of the Herald. The Undead found it first, again through the divinations of Asmolum. It brooded in the catacombs beneath the Cathedral of Ithaenc, near at hand to Anadil's encampment.
Almost as soon as Anadil was informed, the Shadows knew, for they had long infiltrated the rotting army. When the Undead attempted to gain access, they found the final portal had been altered such that only those who'd sworn themselves to Ilservian could pass through.
Taken aback, the Undead leadership split the key to the catacombs into three pieces. The first remained in the keeping of Aerfalle, the second given to the commander of the Undead legion from Chalicmere Castle in the Direlands, and the last to the head of the legion lent by Aerfalle's own political faction. Again, the Shadow infiltrators among the Undead foiled their plans. The last commander was murdered, and his key given to the keeping of Ler Rhan's Shadow Children.
Anadil sent emissaries to make contact with the enigmatic Virindi, knowing them to be similarly distressed by the chaos of the Shadows, and thus potential allies.
One last time, the humans acted unexpectedly. Finding new paths to Ithaenc, a tide of human warriors and mages flooded Anadil and his army. The old general was slain, but not before asking his attackers to take up his burden. “Don't let it end like this, young ones. If you must send me to the wind, my task is yours to complete. Protect the stone.”
And so they did. An unprecedented coalition of Isparian barons recovered the pieces of the key, and set a watch on the catacombs and the terrible, hallucination-inducing black stone that hummed and spun at its heart. The stalwart members of the Shard Vigil repulsed several attacks by humans in the service of Ilservian.
Frustrated, Ferah and Ler Rhan assumed human guise once more to contact the Dark Masters. Blackthorn, who had turned his coat and become a member of the Vigil, wisely disappeared for a week. Vidorian, however, sought out her aggrieved masters, and begged forgiveness for her failure to break the Vigil and the stone.
On a quiet night in the third week of the Vigil, the two Shadow generals and Vidorian swept into the dungeon, driving the defenders back and shattering the Shard of the Herald. With a shriek that could be heard across worlds, Ilservian Palacost was freed.
Isin Dule knew his time would be all too brief once Ferah and Ler Rhan spoke with Ilservian. Thus he offered assistance to the fledgling Virindi-Undead alliance.
With a heavy heart, I decided I must also cast my die with this unsavory coalition.
All unknown, we gathered in the wastelands that mark the wreckage of the Jailne Lyceum -- the place at which Ilservian was last defeated. Each of the inhuman powers held an item that would sap the power of our Enemy. I believed I had the knowledge to combine these items into a single, united thaumaturgic assault.
But the time was not yet right; the items had to be prepared. So it was that I challenged Ilservian openly. It was nearly my end. That which empowers him is far beyond my feeble powers. Had he not been determined to toy with me, I should have died most swiftly.
While I distracted the Enemy, Lady Elysa Strathelar set her feet upon the roads of the world, seeking knowledge of which monarchs could be trusted and which could not. She charged those who walked in light with the recovery and safe transport of the various pieces of the spell. The items were to be delivered to Luminary Golems in the Isparian capital cities. These entities, relics of ancient and lost demiurgic arts, were immune to the influence of shadow.
The children of the other sun recovered the items. The great binding was cast, and Ilservian was much enfeebled. At this, humanity charged into the breach. Their losses were terrible. The man of Daralet had already surrounded himself with the misbegotten leavings of elemental chaos. These things lurked among the flapping, green-tinted membranes of his inner sanctum, where the walls breathed and ate the flesh of men. After numerous assaults, a coordinated team of mages, warriors, and archers destroyed the physical form of Ilservian Palacost.
But this was not the end of him; rather, it was the end of the part of him that remained mortal. His dark spirit descended, summoned by whatever created him. Before he left, his scream of betrayal was heard by the triumphant humans. “Dule! Base traitor! I sense your art in this artifact assembled by the last Yalain. Thee and thine are banished from Our sight for all time, and ye shall be hunted until the stars fall from their course! Marked are thee!”
Ilservian's story, then, has not ended. He goes on. His generals Ferah and Ler Rhan go on. And his best friend Dule, somewhere in the lonely wastes, also goes on. The seeds sown here may not be reaped for a generation, but their poison will spread. There will be accounting. We have only won a reprieve.
These were the reagents of the binding. A fragment of the Virindi Singularity was used to divert a portion of Bael'Zharon's power into the wilds of portalspace. The Heart of Shadow, supplied by Isin Dule, was a partial manifestation of Bael'Zharon's connection to the Shadow World. Its destruction sapped him of still more power. Last came the skull of a child, enchanted with lost Falatacot bindings by the Dericost Undead.
The skull of Avroen Palacost, the son of Ilservian. The skull of a child of Daralet.
Think kindly on Ilservian, if you can. Who among you can claim that your grief should be less? For my part I will bow my head, and pray that father and son may find peace.
-- Asheron Realaidain