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A Realm History

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A Realm History
by Owain of Glynnhollow-in-the-Mists

Storyline Menu Storyline FAQ Words of Enid Words of Despothes Words of Duach Analysis Gods History Watchers
Part I Part II Part III
Part IV Part V Part VI
Part VII Part VIII Epilogue


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ong ago in the Dreamtime, the mists swirled and danced upon the land. As with dreams, this era endured forever and never. There was no delineation between the mundane and the magical, and all creatures lived side by side in harmony. The gods walked among their children, and mortal and mage were as one. When any wished to pass through the mists into Avalon, it was permitted; there was no fear of the unknown, for all was known to the creatures of the Realm.

In the beginning, there was little difference between the ancient ones and the other intelligent races. These were times of great tranquility for every living creature. During the Dreamtime, the words peace, knowledge, contentment, and Avalon were interchangeable. Nowhere in the land was there hunger, or sickness, or death. The soil was fertile; there were no deserts as there are today. Barrenness was unknown. The land was populated by magic-casting humans known as the ancient people of the tribe; by the fairy folk, ancestors of the creatures known today as the fairies; by the elves, who lived in Avalon’s forests; and by the dwarves, small and industrious beings who were believed to be cousins to the human.

For many generations this was truth. But as do all things, tranquility ended. Several events occurred late in the Dreamtime, which would change the nature of Avalon forever. The first of these was that humans from distant shores became aware of the bounty of the land of The Ancient Ones. These humans sought to take the land from the Tribe, and to make it their own.

From the north sailed the Uplanders, and they penetrated inland from the western coast. These were fair-colored people, tall and cruel, with cunning intelligence and a nature most ruthless. Like the frigid lands whence they came, these Uplanders were cold and brutal. As winter wolves, the Uplanders set upon any of the Tribe who would protect themselves or their families, and those who would not fight were brought under the yoke. In the north-and-west it was so, and there was much turmoil and misery in the land.

This onslaught of Uplanders took place over many generations, and each new invasion brought fresh commingling of blood: the blood of the ancient ones, and the blood of the Uplanders. For the Uplanders took to wed those from the ancient people of the tribe, and the resultant generation was neither Uplander nor tribesman, but a new people, and superior. For this race of people had the strength and tenacity of the Uplanders; but it had also the gentleness and the love of nature of the ancient ones. Less bellicose were those new people, and yet they would not hesitate to wage war to protect home and hearth. Lovers of learning, pious and philosophical, this race would build universities in order to share knowledge among all the people of the land. (Source: The Blessings of the Uplanders, by Ingeborg the Scholar, Sections II, VI and X, Realm University Library.)

During the influx, the qualities of the Uplanders were not entirely appreciated by those who had lived in the Realm since before time’s counting. As the ancient ones were being assimilated by the invaders, the fairies and dwarves resolutely resisted them, while the elves simply melted into the forests. Many of the gods pleaded for peace, but it is difficult for one to behave passively while watching the ascent of the enemy’s sword.

Other gods, however, encouraged their followers to defend themselves. This more than anything else caused the rift, which tore apart the Dreamtime and thrust Avalon into the mists forever.


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Part II

n the land whence they came, the Uplanders worshiped multiple gods; when they arrived in this land, Gaia welcomed these new gods. Gaia, as any child knows, makes no distinction between light and dark; without one, we cannot have the other, and they are therefore equal in the eyes of the mother. This fact, combined with Gaia’s neutrality, caused many within the Realm to question Gaia’s supremacy. One group of dwarves began whispering that Gaia would allow those who worshipped her to do whatever they wished. This group was led by a dwarf named Fenlon.

Not much is known of Fenlon. What information we do have is tainted by its source, which is orcan, unsubstantiated by the lore of any other race. The story of Fenlon according to popular orcana is this:

Fenlon, for whatever reason, was born different from the other dwarves. He was more cunning, more ruthless, unlike other creatures of the mists. Fenlon was able to lie, and he reveled in the art, practicing it whenever he was able. It is said that he was also very charismatic, and even as a child he was able to attract rather a large following of other dwarves who emulated him in every action. Fenlon was able to pull these children away from Gaia; he taught them to lie and steal. Because this behavior was new to Avalon, it was detected quite slowly, and most of these children were nearly grown before their parents fully realized that there was something different about this generation of dwarves. By that time, Fenlon ruled his group with an iron grasp.

Fenlon and his followers reached adulthood just as the influx of humans from other lands was at its height. Fenlon wished to stop the invasion, and respectfully petitioned Gaia to cast out the Uplanders. Gaia imperiously refused. Fenlon respectfully insisted that Gaia stop the advance of the Uplanders into Avalon. Gaia became furious.

“You dare to question the mother?” she said coldly. Fenlon tried to explain that the land was being destroyed. She waved her hand over her head and turned away from him. “I will hear no more from you, Fenlon of the dwarves. I bid you to be silent.” And, with that, she strode away. Fenlon determined at that moment that, no matter what the cost, he would defy the mother to preserve his world. He plotted a strategy with his lieutenant, Magya, and organized the dwarves into a regiment.

Soon thereafter, Fenlon and his dwarves created a powerful magic from arbolanima sap and certain incantations that have been lost to the collective memory. Casting of this spell would cause horrible results: its targets would change into cloven-hoofed animals. Nor would Fenlon be satisfied simply with putting an end to the aggression of the Uplanders. The spell, to be cast during the Beltane celebrations, was directed not only at the Uplanders, but also at all humans.

But Tia, Gaia’s favored attendant, somehow found out about Fenlon’s plan. On Beltane night, the dwarves gathered in a clearing. As they formed a circle and prepared to utter the words to cast the magic that would deliver Avalon, another circle formed around them. Gaia, Tia and Rexus, and all of Gaia’s other human and elfish attendants, surrounded the dwarves. Gaia’s eyes glowed with anger. She extended her arm toward the dwarves, and sparks flew from her fingertips. The words she spoke that night are as lost to us as paradise. But when she was done, Fenlon and his dwarves had transformed into a new species.

“You are banished from the mists, Fenlon, From now on you and your followers will be known for your offenses. Wherever you go, my children will know you as outcasts.” And with that, she waved her arm, and Fenlon and his followers were cast forth from the mists. On this Beltane night, the race of orcs was born. Orcs honor Fenlon as the father of the race, and Magya as the mother.

Most races consider this story a blasphemous and self-serving version that bears little resemblance to the truth, for the mother would never behave so cruelly. Nevertheless, orcs tell with pride how Gaia “punished” them by making them the most beautiful of races.


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Part III

nother example of a human legend or folk tale supposedly representing events that took place during the Dreamtime is the story of the Wind, the Moon and the Mist. This tale has been handed down primarily among the human and dwarf races. (Humans and dwarves in and around the Drear Valley region tell this tale with great relish. There is little evidence of the tale’s events having actually occurred, and fairies consider it telling a serious affront. Source: Monmouth Shire Records, Vols. XVII-XVIII.) It is the belief of most scholars of legends and folk tales that this tale originated late in the Time of Change. Experts believe fairly unanimously that the story is untrue. The story is revealing, however, in its expression of the rancor between humanity and the fairies during the period just prior to the War of the Continuum.

Before time was counted, when humans were innocent of all knowledge, fairies ruled the Realm. The queen of the fairies was more beautiful than the dew. She took great pride in her beauty, which was greater then that of any creature in the Realm.

One night, the queen of the fairies sat by a shimmering pool admiring her reflection when up from the depths popped a fat frog. He hopped over to the queen and sat by her. After a moment, he croaked teasingly, “The most beautiful living creature is staring back at you, Majesty.” The queen of the fairies skimmed her hand along the water. “Thank you, Master Frog, for acknowledging my beauty.” The frog replied, “Indeed, Majesty, you are a lovely second best. I was not referring to you, Majesty. I spoke of the moon.” And with that, he hopped back into the pool, kerplop!”

The queen of the fairies was outraged, and she silently summoned the other fairies to her. She demanded to know the truth. Who was more beautiful, the queen of the fairies, or the moon?

The fairies, hesitant, had to tell their queen that the moon was indeed more beautiful. “But how could you have lied to me? You said I was the most beautiful!” The fairies responded: “Majesty, you are the most beautiful creature in the Realm. The moon is the most beautiful creature in the sky.” The queen of the fairies did not take this news gladly. She hid herself under a snapdragon and deprived the Realm of her beauty for forty days and forty nights.

On the forty-first night, the queen sat under the snapdragon thinking hard about how to be rid of the moon when she felt the mists chilling her cheek. “My Lady Queen,” whispered the mist in her ear, “shall you send me to the moon that I might surround her and hide her beauty?” For the mist had always loved the moon from afar, but because he was earthbound, he could not reach her. The queen of the fairies approved of the idea of enshrouding the moon’s beauty, and she cast an enchantment that sent the mist swirling into the heavens. Luna, the goddess of the moon, greeted the mist. She was lonely sailing the skies alone, and was glad for some companionship. But, as she spoke, the mist surrounded Luna in a tight blanket, and her supplications were muffled and her beauty hidden.

On the earth, the wind had for eternity blown across the land in a glittering swirl, and he tousled the deserts and tickled the flowers. But in spite of his freedom, the wind was lonely. He traveled day and night in search of something, of what he knew not. Yet never did he look to the skies: never did he look into the face of the moon. Then one night, there was no moonlight. The wind blew uncertainly, unsure of what was wrong. For the first time he looked to the skies, but he could see only the vaguest outline of a circle of light through a patina of mist. Although he knew not what the circle of light was, the wind felt drawn to it.

The wind thought much about the circle of light. He started by going to the fairies and asking what the circle of light was. “Do not ask this thing, Wind,” the fairies replied uneasily. This did not stop the wind; it made him more determined than ever to reach the circle. He went to the humans and asked what the circle of light was. But the humans were innocent of all things, and could not answer him. Everywhere the wind went he asked what the circle of light in the sky was. The creatures he met either did not know or would not say.

It did not matter to the wind. More and more, he wanted to see what lay beyond the mist. One night he began to blow upward, toward the circle of light, but before he could reach the circle, daylight broke. The wind, forlorn, sank back to the earth without reaching his goal. He rested all day; that evening at dusk he tried to make it to the circle. This time he got closer, but still he was unable to reach the circle of light before the sun rose and obscured its location. Less forlorn this time, the wind formed a plan. The wind rested the next day and the next night. When the sun rose, the wind gathered up all this strength and began to ascend. All day long the wind blew upward to the spot where the circle of light had appeared the previous night. During the hot afternoon, the wind moved up through the sky. But when the sun sank, the circle of light did not appear to the wind. How could this be? The wind moved back and forth between the stars, growing more weary every hour, searching for the circle of light. But the queen of the fairies had sent a message to the mist, and he knew the wind was on his way. He had enshrouded the moon even more tightly than usual. Only one tiny moonbeam escaped the misty blanket, and it was very tiny indeed. How could the wind possibly see it? And yet, toward morning, the wind did see the tiny moonbeam. As he moved along the face of Venus, the moonbeams winked at him, and in a flash, he headed toward it. As he neared the mist-covered moon, he could hear her calling to him to destroy the mist. He gathered himself up to the gale force, and when he hit the mist, it blew off into the heavens.

The moon was determined that the queen of the fairies would never again have such power. She sent the wind down to the earth with the tiny moonbeam. The wind gave the moonbeam to the humans of the Drear Valley; the humans used it to make a fire, and they warmed themselves by the moonbeam-fire, which was knowledge. Now that the humans realized that the fairies ruled the land, they began to covet the fairies’ lands. Because they now had knowledge, humans began to work together to take what belonged to the fairies. The queen of the fairies now had little time to admire her beauty in shimmering pools, much less send the mist to the skies to wrap himself around the beautiful moon.

To some humans in the world the moon is their goddess-preeminent, because she gave us knowledge. The wind and the moon are lovers, and some days are windless because the wind is ascending to heaven to visit his beloved. And the mist is a coward who appears only on the nights when the wind is with the moon.

Stories of this type were popular during and just after the Dreamtime. Many are considered inventions, but some are well accepted as factual. As stated earlier, this story is considered a quaint invention, probably of human origin, but it does underscore the tensions between the races during this period in our history.


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Part IV

t is interesting to compare legends of the various regions. As one can see, Gaia is not mentioned as attending the council. It is believed that she had faded into the mists by this time. This legend, if true, does serve to explain how those with little blood from the ancient ones enjoy magical powers.

When the Realm was in its youth, and Uplanders were just beginning to teach the heathen ancients about culture and beauty, the gods took council to determine the future of humankind. Some of the gods felt that humans should be ignored, just as one ignores the slugs under the rocks. Others believed that humans were a threat to the balance of light and dark, and should be destroyed before irreparable harm was done to the great balance. Despothes, a wise and powerful god, listened to both sides, and then spoke. He believed that humans could one day be great allies, perhaps even gods themselves in the distant future. And it was his opinion that took root among the gods. Despothes decreed that mankind should be shown some of the secrets of nature that would allow them to control their environment. It was his belief that man would come to rely on the provider of such powers. So it was done.

Despothes summoned his faithful servant Donlos to live in the Realm so as to find the one human worthy of being taught the principles of the nature of things. Donlos searched every village and every town for this human. When Donlos made his way to the town of Nahma, he came across a man by the name of Didascalos. This man, Didascalos, was a gem among men. He was intelligent, patient, understanding and wise beyond his years. Such a man did indeed seem worthy of the knowledge. Donlos took this knowledge back to Despothes for review, saying that he had indeed found the one they sought. Despothes looked down upon Didascalos, and on watching him for some time concurred with Donlos. He bade the god Misthos to make himself known to the chosen one.

Misthos revealed himself to Didascalos, and said to him, “I am Misthos, god of infinite rewards! You have been chosen for a special task, a service for all mankind.” Didascalos, being a wise man, knew that the gods were many and that while some gods looked upon the humankind with favor, yet others were not so favorably inclined. Knowing this, he replied, “If you are indeed Misthos, god of infinite rewards, I will listen to you. But how am I to know that you speak truly?” On hearing this Misthos replied, “Listen to my words and all will be made plain. I have knowledge to give you directly from the mouth of Despothes! I bear a gift directly from the hand of Despothes!”

Misthos’ voice filled Didascalos with great awe, and an aura of acceptance overtook him. He said to Misthos, “Yes, Misthos, I will listen.” Misthos then began to profess the principles of the nature of things to Didascelos, so that he could assume his place as the chosen one. Misthos was endowed with great abilities and was able to make known such things that would take humankind a thousand years to discover in mere minutes. Such was his way of teaching Didascalos. Once the knowledge was made known to Didascalos, he said to Mithos, “Such knowledge is great! But how am I to apply it to its fullest?”

Misthos replied, “Despothes knew of these problems, and has created this.” Misthos conjured from nothingness a great golden scepter and handed it to Didascalos. “This is the Scepter of Power, forged by the hand of Nehnamis himself. Its purpose is to help you with your application of the knowledge that has been professed to you. At first it will be necessary for you to wield the Scepter to apply the knowledge. But as you become more proficient, your need for it will lessen. But know this! Without the Scepter all of the knowledge professed to you is worthless.” Misthos continued, “You must become proficient in the use of the Scepter and of the knowledge. I will stay with you for a time to lay your course.” And so it was.

Misthos did stay with Didascalos for a time, teaching the correct use of the Scepter and of the knowledge. But when Misthos knew that Didascalos was indeed proficient, he left him. Before leaving, however, Misthos spoke unto him these final instructions: “You must use this knowledge to create a great temple for its study. Call to yourself eight others as worthy as yourself, to be the givers of the knowledge to all of humankind. You are embarking on a great journey, filled with both possibility and peril. You must be ever vigilant, so that your place as keeper of the Scepter is by no means taken away,” said Misthos. And so Didascalos was left, and the magic of the world was given to humankind.

Changes were occurring in the Realm, changes which would create for us a new destiny. The human tribes from other hands forced away the Dreamtime, and catapulted us into a new and difficult era.


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Part V

he Uplanders were becoming assimilated, and while they did not have the same magical abilities as the ancient people, yet did they become accepted. It was interesting to the ancient ones to discover that the Uplanders could not, as a rule, find their way in and out of the mists. But soon they, too, found that it was becoming more and more difficult to pass back and forth through the mists; only the descendants of the ancient ones, those purest of blood, could do so, and it seemed to become more difficult as time passed.

As the Uplanders became part of their adopted land, humans from other lands were also hearing of our bounty. Word of the fertile soil and abundant water and sunshine was carried across the seas on the wings of birds, and soon others came to our shores. From the south came the birds, and soon others came to our shores. From the south came the Exedorians, fairly peaceful humans who wished to farm the land and reap the earth’s riches. Many Exedorians settled in the Wexfordshire Valley, and were quickly absorbed by those already there.” (Source: Oral tradition of Murias and the surrounding countryside.)

Another human tribe came to this land from across the sea, but this people would not be assimilated. These humans were from Saurilius, a continent of oppressive shadow and dark and hungry gods. Saurilian priests who came here would not allow their gods to commingle with our gods, and their god would devour all other gods if given the chance. These new people were strong and warlike, and wished to bring our land to its knees. Saurilian priests forbade worship of any god but theirs; they smashed all places of time’s counting. Priests and priestesses went underground; those were did not were slaughtered.

The Saurilians more than any other race brought about the Time of Change, and after that, the War of the Continuum, because they would not change, and they demanded change of those who were here before them. The Saurilians put a blight upon this land from which we are still recovering. The Saurilians caused Gaia’s retreat into the mists, and created barrenness of a rich and fertile valley. (Source: Idyll Town Records, Vol. I) But the Saurilians are responsible for the birth of the giants during the time of change.

Giant lore tells this story: Long ago, Gaia, goddess-preeminent to the giants, was attended by the ancient ones, humans of average stature. This was during the era of the mists, when the gods of the ancient ones walked among their children. Gaia’s two most trusted and beloved attendants were Rexus and Tia. They would die to protect the mother.

Soon, word of the beauty and richness of the land escaped the Realm on the wings of birds. When this occurred, other humans came to these shores, and with them came other, darker gods. These gods challenged the ancient gods at every turn, and the spoils of war were the peoples of the Realm.

Eventually, there was a battle between the new gods and Gaia. Rexus and Tia gathered around the mother and blocked her essence with their bodies as the dark gods stood on the mountains and hurled thunderbolts at her. Her other attendants, all of whom knew powerful magic, flew at the dark gods and enchanted them with spells of ice and fire. Some of the gods were slain, some fled.

The wickedest and most powerful dark god of all, whose name has been cast from history and must never be spoken, yanked up two trees from Nocturne Forest and charged Gaia and her two most loyal children. Gaia stood atop Dolus Mountains. Rexus on her left and Tia on her right, all three knowing that this would be their final stand. The dark god swung one tree into the sky to bring it down on Tia and kill her. Gaia touched Tia, and instantly she grew to the sky. She reached out, and easily knocked the tree out of his hand. The god then swung the other tree down on Rexus. Gaia touched Rexus and instantly he grew large enough to fend off the dark god’s attack. Gaia then smote the dark god, which caused him to fall to his knees before the Dolus Mountains. The land underneath his evil essence died instantly, and the land became the Kamira Desert. Gaia held out both arms and cast over him a spell of deep trance. His body fell backward lifeless. Its outline can be seen still, in the silhouette of the Crystal Hills.

Gaia turned to Rexus and Tia, and thanked them for their loyalty. She asked them to continue to be faithful to her, and they begged her for the privilege. Gaia bade them remain as giants, so that in the future they might protect her. Again, they agreed. Then Gaia set them upon the land, blessed them, and disappeared into the mists. And as she retreated, the land did protest her going by withering. No longer was the land a lush and verdant place. Now much of the land languished, sere and barren, and a hunger descended upon the land. (Source: Garach Town Hall Archives, Manuscript 4.)

Soon after the giants were created, from the east came another people called the Magurs. These people settled in the southeast, in the Kamira, the desert region formed by the Saurilian god.

This region had been abandoned by the ancient ones when the dark god robbed it of its fertility; it was then taken over by the Magurs, who apparently moved from a continent so barren that the Kamira seemed a paradise. The Magurs were led by Iandau, a brutal man but one cunning enough to understand that his people would fare better in this new land by waging diplomacy than they would waging war. Iandau arranged to marry Sharinda, the daughter of the leader of one of the ancient tribes. King Iandau’s reason for marrying Sharinda was that he coveted a strip of land along the River Wye which was controlled by Sharinda’s kinsmen. The Wye was at that time populated by the ancient tribes with magic strong enough to defend against Iandau’s taking the land by force. It is said that the magic of these people was granted by Despothes, a powerful god. Sharinda’s family married Sharinda to the barbarian rather than to a fellow Despothes-worshipper in exchange for Iandau’s promise to forsake his gods to worship their true god.

Despite Sharinda’s efforts to make her husband happy, Iandau was not compassionate toward her. This Sharinda would have tolerated, but Iandau would not honor his agreement to accept Despothes. Sharinda ran from Iandau one night, never to return. This caused friction between those who lived in the so-called Lower Provinces, the region below the Crystal Hills to the east end of Wye, and the rest of the Realm. These tensions lasted through the Time of Change, brought about inter-human skirmishes during the War of the Continuum, and are believed to have been a major cause of the Mage Wars. Suspicion of the Lower Provincials by the rest of the population continues to the present day.

During the Time of Change, the orcs were dealing with their own problems, most of them self-created. When Gaia cast them from the mists, Fenlon and his minions created a life in the valleys, subsisting on the vegetation and wildlife to be found there. They quickly multiplied, and soon the Realm’s valleys were well-populated by orcs. However, when the new tribes of humans came from other lands, most wished to farm. They drove the orcs from the valleys, forcing most into the forests, where the elves lived.

Elves are not a warlike race, and would probably have lived in peace with the orcs, but the descendants of Fenlon began by destroying sacred fairy rings and attempting to destroy great stretches of the forest. (Only elfish sources have been used, although the Drunemetonian version of these events differs considerably from the orcan ones. I have recounted events in the Devon Forest, because they are fairly typical of what happened in the forests which were overrun by orcs during this period.) The elves for a time remained obscured by the colors of the forest, blending and fading into the surroundings when the orcs appeared. Because elves are solitary beings, it was not in their nature to work together toward a common goal; compounding that was the elfish belief that we should not impose life-views on other tribes and races. But when the orcs began killing the trees, elves began gathering in groups of two and three; soon the groups joined and grew, and then there was just one group consisting of all the elves of the forest. They knew that their very survival depended upon action. They were determined to take that action.

The habit of the orcs was to sit in a circle in the forest and complain about being driven from the valleys and about forest life. As they did so, they would get angrier and angrier, attacking and fighting with each other. When their fury was at its peak, they would storm from the circle in a frenzy of destruction, searching for something to demolish.

One day as the orcs sat in their circle, the Devon elves silently surrounded them. They poised their bows and, when the first pair of orcs snarled and leaped toward each other, fired into the gathering.

The orcs, outnumbered and ambushed, did not stand a chance. Several escaped, but most were killed. Only two elves lost their lives when five orcs charged and struck them in an effort to get away. The orcs who did manage to flee never came back into the forest, but were driven south. They were established the village of Silverbrook, which would eventually become elf-dominant. Orcs also founded the town of Caer Fandry on Loch Dread during the same era, and under similar circumstances.

As a result of these orcan-elfish skirmishes, many elves formed coalitions with other elves. Elven towns such as Drunemeton were founded immediately subsequent to and as a direct result of the orcan invasion of the forests. The other effect of this conflict was that, according to elfish lore, Dyana revealed herself to the elves, and instructed them in the proper ways of worship.(Source: Elven oral tradition throughout the Realm) Dyana became goddess-preeminent to most if not all of the Realm’s elfish population.

Meanwhile, something occurred in the Wexfordshire Valley which would change the course of history forever. Several generations before, an Exedorian family named Murias had settled in the valley, claiming that the land was theirs by right of first claim. It is believed by many historians that the tradition of right of first claim originated in Exedor, although this is impossible to verify since Exedor no longer exists. The family Murias built an estate house, the ruins of which still exist, and challenged any who would claim right to harvest the bounty of the land.

Traveling from the north and west came a group of human families who wished to farm the Wexfordshire. Legend says that one of these women, Lotta of Murias, invented a digging tool with wheels and a wedge to push away dirt; this tool could be attached to animals or intelligent beings for pulling. This tool was extremely crude, but it was the first plough, and was a huge step forward away from the sharpened logs farms had used before. Lotta’s plough made farming less brutal, brutish work. As a result of her invention, more food could be harvested from the land, and at a lower human toll. The plough alleviated the famine somewhat, and caused more humans to make up farming. Happily, it has also resulted in the Murias festivals, or “feis”, which this author attends whenever he is able. There is always a fei going on in Murias, celebrating this or that milestone in the growing season.

Despite the good that resulted from the plough, more experts believe that its invention more than any other circumstance caused the next major phase in the Realm.


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Part VI

ecause of the influx of humanity from other lands, many magical folk were pushed back into the mists. It was during this period in history when the creatures of the earth divided up the day, mortals taking daylight, and Faerie taking night. From that time on, most mortals recede into the mists during the time when the fairies dance, and this receding is known as sleeping. Fairies fade into the mists during the sun-time, when the humans dominate the world. (This legend, commonly told among mortal folk, is obviously ludicrous. Fairies more than any other creatures are able to transcend the mists, although it is not easy as in the Dreamtime. I include it because belief in the sale is widespread.)

Still, Faerie did not react. Fairies themselves are peaceful by nature, and were at the time led by Vilia Ninemoons, who wished to exist in harmony with all creatures. The other tribes aligning themselves with Faerie—the orcs, ogres, undead and most elves and dwarves—were deeply divided as to how to react to the insurgency of humankind that was pushing them into the mists. Elves and dwarves tended to side with Ninemoons. The ogres, led by Menosz, advocated all-out war with the humans. Because neither race has a written language, I guessed at the spelling of this leader’s name. It is pronounced MEN-osh. Source: Troll and ogre oral tradition.

The orcs were divided even among themselves, and while they wished to crush the humans, theirs was a struggle for supremacy over the race. Two leaders were emerging: Vlador at Caer Fandry in the East, and Rathrau in the newly-formed town of Silverbrook, just south of Devon Forest. I have found numerous sources throughout the Realm to corroborate the conflict between Vlador and Rathrau. Much of the information I gained by consulting with the spirit of Vilia Ninemoons at the Oracle of Avalon Isle. Vlador wanted the blood of the humans, or to bring them under the yoke. Rathtrau’s tribe wished to drive the humans back to the place whence they came. Some historians claim that the planned method of dispatch of humans was the cause of the dispute. The true cause appears to be that both wanted to rule the entire orcan empire.

At last, Rathtrau’s political maneuverings brought several key chiefs over to his standard, and Vlador was forced to concede his claim as orcan leader. He was still powerful, however, and Rathtrau desired a public display of fealty. Vlador grudgingly agreed to pledge his allegiance to Rathtrau at the Festival of the New Moon, but requested that the pledge take place in Rathtrau’s town of Silverbrook so that Vlador would not be wanted to bring the chiefs loyal to Vlador in line, and insisted that the pledge take place in public at Vlador’s home town of Caer Fandwy. The Festival of the New Moon is believed to be the orcan version of Beltrane. During the Festival of the New Moon, orcs burn a goddess in effigy, and celebrate the “emergence” of the orcs from the dwarfish race, which they characterize as a half-witted tribe unable to function outside the group. He further insisted that Vlador require all his loyal chiefs to be in attendance so that they might pledge their allegiance as well. Vlador’s back was against the wall. He had no choice but to accede. Rathtrau received a message that he come to Caer Fandry for Vlador’s pledge.

Caer Fandry was situated on Loch Dread, less a lake than a swamp, always dark and enshrouded with an oppressive mist that confounds the wayfarer. Caer Fandry is located on the easternmost tip of Loch Dread. Ever since Vilia Ninemoons cast the orcs into the Third Awareness, however, it is impossible to reach without the ability to transcend the mists. More than one skeleton has been found on the banks of Loch Dread, and Caer Fandry mothers never allow their children out past dark. Even today, they say there are creatures in the swamp, and that the creatures are hungry. And in describing Caer Fandry as being situated on Loch Dread, one does not mean that it was on the banks, but rather on the loch itself. Caer Fandry was a canal town best traversed in small boats and gondolas. Rathtrau and his party arrived in Caer Fandry by boat, with great pomp and show, having purchased the boats on the western bank of the loch and traveled by water into Caer Fandwy. This showed Rathtrau’s bravery, since few parties make it alive across Loch Dread.

Vlador, suppressing his rancor, showed Rashtrau the respect due an orcan emperor. Rathtrau for his part behaved fairly well, although it was obvious he was enjoying Vlador’s discomfiture. On the evening of the demonstration of fealty, Vlador appeared, dressed in his finest ceremonial robes, to escort Rathtrau to the ceremony. He bowed low. “My experor,” he murmured. They walk to the gondola that was docked outside the castle, and two gondoliers began to guide the boar to village green, where the witnesses were gathered.

As the gondola approached the dock, the gathered orcs began to cheer. Vlador waved, then stood back and bowed and gestured at Rathtrau. Rathtrau, with false modesty, waved as Vlador had done, then began to get out of the gondola. Vlador placed his hand on Rathtrau’s shoulder and whispered, “I see you are anxious to let them see us bury the hatched, my emperor. Very well.” With that Vlador spun Rathtrau around and brought down on Rathtrau’s head a small ax that he had held hidden in the folds of his robe. As Rathtrau’s eyes widened in surprise at his own death, Vlador’s men proceeded to hack to death any of Rathtrau’s men who would not beg for their lives. Vlador let Rathtrau’s dying body slip into the swamp. There was a disturbance from under the surface, and the water bubbled red. Then the commotion died, with nothing but dark foam to mark Rathtrau’s grave, and then that too was gone.” It is interesting to hear each side. Caer Fandrians tell the story as if Vlador were the heroic figure in the tale, and Rathtrau the evil villain. Silverbrookers recount it from the opposite direction. According to the Oracle at Avalon Isle, there’s a bit of truth in both versions.

Not surprisingly, this event marked the beginning of Vlador’s domination of Faerie. Vilia Ninemoons and the leaders of the elves and dwarves argued that there was enough land to go around, and that the humans must simply be more sensitive to the desires of the magical folk with whom they shared the land. But the ranks of these races were deeply divided. Many elves and dwarves believed that it would be impossible to persuade the humans to coexist. Almost all the fairies wished for a peaceful solution, but then there was an incident near the village of Achren that changed their minds.

Mt. Badon was once the site of the largest fairy ring in the Realm. Mt. Badon was a place of great magic, and fairies from all over the land would come to this ring and celebrate important events such as weddings, or festivals such as Beltrane. The Festival of the Birth of Autumn, which marks the beginning of the painting of the leaves by the fairies, is the most important festival of the year, and all fairies attend this joyous event.

The night before the festival in the first year of the War of the Continuum, so called because it would determine whether life in the Realm would continue as it had been or change forever, someone pulled apart the fairy ring and smashed the sacred stones. There was a sentry; her throat was slit. In her blood was written on slate the words, “El thoth gar”, which translated to “Make way.” Source: Achren Shire Records, Vols. IV-V.

This was interpreted by all in Faerie to be a threat by the humans to yield to them or die. Vlador, with the help of Menosz of the ogres, was now able to convince many fairies, elves and dwarves to fight the humans for the land. One night just before winter solstice, the fairies attacked Achren; the ogres hit Greaves and Leinster; and the orcs raided Portmeirion. There was no unified human fighting force to speak of in the entire Realm, with the possible exceptions of the Asgard and Blandsley navies, so Portmeirion denizens had to defend themselves as best they could. They managed to get a messenger to Asgard to the north. This was Clough, Hero of Portmeirion. Source: The History of Caer Leu, by Lianne Koenigsdottit, pages 25-42. The Asgard fleet was immediately deployed to Portmeirion, and was able to retake it soon after the battle from the orcan force left to guard it. Source: The Blessings of the Uplanders, by Ingeborg the Scholar, Section XXIV, Realm University Library.

With their help, Fabacher and his sailors quickly dispatched the invaders. Menosz, leader of the ogres, cowed to avenge the dead. He publicly pledged that he would see Captain Fabacher eradicated from the Realm. This information was gleaned from a wide variety of sources. Two excellent compendia of the events of the war which should be required reading for any student of the Realm’s history are Sebastien’s The Battle of Winternight: Events Which Led to the Civil War; and The Continuum War: The struggle Between Faerie and Humanity, by Brucius of Cambria. The original manuscript of the latter is available for viewing at the University.

The three-pronged attack, which became known as the Battle of Winternight though it lasted several months, did not have a decisive winner. Portmeirion inhabitants were fairly well wiped out, and those left became very suspicious and mistrustful. Leinster survived with little damage, but many Greavesians were killed and some of Greaves’ buildings, including Melcron Castle, were destroyed. The ruins of Melcron Castle can still be found to the east and south of Greaves. Most Realm denizens avoid the castle, for it is said to be haunted by the most evil of the undead.

The Achren battle occurred over the course of several months, beginning the War of the Continuum. Creatures from Faerie and traitorous human sorcerers bubbled up from the Lower Province and attempted to take Mt. Badon, the source of a vast amount of unharnessed magic since the fairy ring was smashed. Vilia Ninemoons knew that if this much concentrated magical energy were controlled by any one creature, the world would probably be destroyed. She managed to scatter the magic across the land so that neither side could use it. Only the bravery of King Fergus of Achren and the intervention of Ninemoons prevented an evil mage named Slayback from harnessing the power of Mt. Badon. Sources: The Oracle of Avalon Isle, and Achren Shire Records, Vols. IV-V.

That was the start of the War of the Continuum. At stake was control of the Realm. Humanity quickly organized militia, but each tiny army was commanded locally. Because of this, there was no real communication between armies, and therefore no coordinated movement. The humans were extremely ineffectual at protecting certain key regions, mainly those areas far from any town. The only area definitely controlled by humans was the River Wye, which Captain Fabacher dominated like a tyrant.

During the first days of the war, Fabacher attacked and sank the fabled Mendulan Faerie Armada and stole all the gold it was transporting. For more information about the Mendulan Faerie Armada read The Life and Times of Admiral Fabacher, by Daniel the Scribe. Additionally, Fabacher’s supply and troop transports moving up and down the river caused Faerie quite a lot of trouble, and the magical folk were completely unable to utilize the Wye to any advantage. The captain was so despised that even today troll mothers threaten naughty children by telling them the Fabacher is going to get them. Because Captain Fabacher escaped so many traps the magical folk set for him during the war, it was whispered that he had some sort of magic that protected him against enchantments. Source, The Life and Times of Admiral Fabacher, by Daniel Scribe, Sections 5 through 7, Library of Stathmore.

During skirmishes, the orcs and ogres fought viciously and were generally capable of vanquishing their human enemy's many fighters. It was a bloody time for the Realm. After several years Vilia Ninemoons, sick at heart of the killing, retired to her childhood home in the Amber Hills. Her successor was a fairy named Ana Summerstorm. Summerstorm was much different from Ninemoons. She would willingly make any sacrifice necessary to vanquish the humans and so Vlador and Menosz hatched a plan.

They created a fairy ship that set out from the southwestern coast of the Realm with only Ana Summerstorm aboard. As the ship neared Blandsley, Summerstorm sank the ship, then summoned Fabacher through magic to save her, which he did. Summerstorm, disguised as a human woman, bewitched Fabacher and stole from him an enchanted amulet that protected him from harm. She then lured him into the sewers below Blandsley as she had sworn to do. But she had fallen in love with Fabacher. She followed him into the sewers and was heard from no more.

After Captain Fabacher was disposed of, Faerie had an easier time traveling through the Realm. Without Fabacher to captain the Blandsley navy, the magical folk could traverse the Wye at will, and humans had much more difficulty transporting supplies. Ironically, the inability of the humans to move supplies on the river was the predominant reason that the human armies began coordinating their movements: their generals found that some armies had certain supplies, and others had certain other supplies, and if there were communication there could also be bartering. Human armies became more effective in land combat because of the new cooperation.

These were brutal years for the Realm. During the next few years, Vlador and Menosz began struggling with each other for supremacy of the deceased and the victor of the battle between human and magical folk was no longer a foregone conclusion. Sources: Troll and orc oral tradition: The Oracle of Avalon Isle. Many fairies lost their stomach for fighting and deliberately drifted into the mists forever. An entire human village called York was wiped out to the last soul by Cardiff dwarves; when the victors tried to return home, the Cardiff dwarves who had not been on the raid began hurling rocks at them. The raiders were forced to leave the home they had known and create their own town, which they called Nennius. Sources: Cardiff Shire Records, Manuscript 12. With races fighting among themselves, there was much bitterness in the land. There was a dark pall over the Realm, and the world itself began to be absorbed into the darkness.

Vilia Ninemoons had been watching the darkness fall from her home in the Amber Hills. At the moment Ana Summerstorm had entered the sewers of Blandsley with her captain, Ninemoons became aware of a horrifying secret shared by Menosz and Vlador. Through the oracle, the spirit of Ninemoons stated that at the moment that Summerstorm entered the sewers, she called to Ninemoons and told her about the secret. She immediately sent out spies and so kept up to date about the war. Her revived interest heartened her honor guard, and they sent out word to Faerie that there might soon be an end to the hostilities. As for Ninemoons herself, she well understood that the war must cease immediately if the Realm had any hope of survival, and so she summoned Vlador and Menosz. They would not come, however, each knew that the other had been called, and neither wished to meet with the other.

Ninemoons therefore sent a message to each, stating that the other wished to yield his power. Vlador and Menosz came willingly enough upon hearing that. When her messenger informed her that both were on their way to the Amber Hills, Ninemoons sent out a silent message to every fairy in the Realm.

When Vlador and Menosz arrived, coincidentally almost simultaneously, they washed their hands and faces and dressed in their finest robes. Vlador tucked an ax into his robes because he suspected a trick; Menosz, however, had heard about Vlador’s preferred method of burying the hatchet, and would not get closer to him than eightspan. Menosz walked with his honor guard to Ninemoon’s stateroom; just a few moments later, Vlador arrived surrounded by his honor guard. Each bowed stiffly at the other.

Without preamble, Vilia Ninemoons spoke her mind. “Menosz the ogre and Vlador of Caer Fandwy, our work is disappearing. You must bridle your pride and greed and make peace with the humans or see your tribes banished forever into the Mists of the Third Awareness.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Menosz snarled a laugh. “And you, Ninemoons, who are you? You are nothing anymore. Who are you to tell us what to do? We could slit your throat tonight and none would stop us.”

“That may be so, Menosz,” replied Ninemoons calmly. “Nevertheless, I know the secret of the beginning of this war, and so do you. And you, Vlador. In fact, we may be the only three in the world who do know that the fairy ring of Achren which began this conflict was destroyed by you two, not by the humans as you led Faerie to believe.”

“A lie, Ninemoons,” Vlador hissed. “There’s no use stirring up the past, anyway. It’s done. We must get on with crushing the humans. And if you won’t help us, get out of the way.” With that he took his ax from his robes.

Ninemoons showed no emotion. “Will you kill me, Vlador? At least before you do, admit your complicity in starting this war for your own gain. How much have you looted from the humans? Thousands of gold pieces? Millions? Tell me where it is, or I will find out by magic.”

Vlador lifted his ax and advanced menacingly toward Ninemoons. She lifted her chin fearlessly and met his eyes. “Admit that you started the war, Vlador. Confess!” Vlador walked quickly to Ninemoons and slammed the ax into her head. “Die, Ninemoons!” he screamed. From her crushed skull poured blood. He smashed her head with the ax again and again until Menosz pulled him away.

“Vlador, we’ll have a time getting out of these hills now, with all the fairies looking to avenge Ninemoon’s death. Why did you do this thing?”

“She knew, Menosz. She knew that you and I broke the fairy ring, and would have revealed the truth to every creature in Faerie. She would have taken from us the gold we’ve stolen. Don’t you see, she had to die?”

As soon as the last word was out of Vlador’s mouth, there came a beating of wings from everywhere and nowhere. Vlador and Menosz looked around desperately, but saw nothing. A breeze began to whirl in the room, with no source the two could see at first; but after a moment of terror, they could see that translucent faeries flew above their heads in a whirlpool of sound and wind. There were thousands of them. Every now and then, a fairy would swoop down on the head of the orc, or the head of the ogre, and draw blood.

Ninemoon’s fairy army, which she had summoned from this world and from the mists, now knew who their true enemy was. Again and gain, fairies swept down and bit or stabbed Menosz and Vlador with their tiny weapons. Other fairies alit on sconces among the walls and uttered incantations. Vlador swung his ax at the fairies, but hitting them proved futile. Soon he was disarmed. Menosz could only cover his head with his arms, but this served no real purpose. He was the first to drop to his knees, but Vlador was quick to follow. Their pleading was difficult to hear over the din made by the beating of thousands of tiny wings.

When Ninemoons was avenged, the fairies picked up her earthly body and carried it to a sacred place in the Amber Hills. There they buried it with all the honors due a fairy martyr. All of the foregoing was revealed to me through the Oracle of Avalon Isle. As for the bodies of Menosz and Vlador, history does not record where they lie. There were none left to mourn their deaths anyway; for all ogres and orcs had disappeared from this world. All of Faerie, after hearing the full story of the betrayal, cursed their names forever. As for the gold these miscreants stole from the humans and secreted, history does not record where it lies either.

With no real leader to represent them, and with the orcs and ogres banished into the Third Awareness, the creatures of Faerie had no one to negotiate a treaty with their adversaries. They therefore sent out elfish and dwarf emissaries to every human and giant town, settlement, and farmhouse in the land. These emissaries said, simply, that Faerie would no longer wage war on mortal beings. There was no official treaty signed to end the War of the Continuum; there was simply an uneasy peace.


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Part VII

hus was the War of the Continuum, which took many seasons and thousands of lives. Since this war, only one other major war has been fought in the Realm. The Mage Wars, misnamed because they were really a series of battles that took place over the centuries since the War of the Continuum, were geographically centered in the east. The combatants were powerful wizards, and at stake was control over the magical power once prevalent throughout the Realm.

When Gaia retreated into the mists, many of the beings of the Realm lost the ability to pass back and forth through the mists. (The reason for this is unclear, although one school of thought says that this was the mother’s way of rejecting her children. Many dwarfish scholars hold with this theory. Another school believes that in so acting, Gaia offered a challenge to her children. Who would be strong and faithful enough to learn to traverse the mists? This view is held by the “mistics”, so-called because they spend their lives attempting to pass through the mists into Avalon. Many in fact succeed. Other theories abound, although these two prevail.) It is true that I, Owain of Glynnhollow, have the ability to pass back and forth through the mists. As all with this ability, I am forbidden to describe Avalon. I can tell my readers that Gaia does not “greet” every entrant into the mists, as some ridiculous theories have suggested. Two facts became plain about those who continued to pass through the mists after the mother faded: first, these beings were the pureblooded descendants of those who had lived in Avalon since the Dreamtime. Second, the beings tht could still pass through the mists had command over an extremely powerful personal magic.

These beings became known, simply, as the mist-mages. They took on an exalted status, although as descendants of the ancient people they did not crave the attention, nor did they abuse their powers. They did not band together—at least, not at first. They wandered, and spread throughout the land, leading quiet lives. They contacted each other only when one needed a mate, for although they did not enjoy their elevated status, neither did they spurn a gift from the mother. They would not dilute their blood, for they believed that Gaia had given them these abilities for a reason that would reveal itself in due course.

And so it did. As these mages lived quietly throughout the generations, abusing not their powers, another group was making its presence known in the land. These were mages as well, but their magic came not from the mists, or from within themselves. These beings had somehow learned to control the magical fields once common across the land. One can come across the vestiges of these fields even today: they can be found anywhere, although they are, of course, nowhere near as powerful as once they were.

During the War of the Continuum, one very powerful field was discovered and exploited by the dark mage Slayback. Vilia Ninemoons appeared to the king of Achren at the time, Fergus, and was able to stop Slayback from using the energy for his evil purposes. Source: Achren Shire Records, Vols. IV-V. Ninemoons was able to see that the magic of this field was dissipated across the Realm in smaller, less potentially dangerous, amounts. Nevertheless, one of the characteristics of magical energy is that it accumulates, and it is attracted to itself. Because of this, the magic does tend to return to a place where there has been a large accumulation. This is apparently what occurred atop Mt. Badon, because later Lower Provincials began bubbling up through Belladonna Pass to channel the energy. Only the bravery of the elves of what is now Pellinor kept the Lower Provincials from taking over the Realm. Source: Pellinor the First: A Biography, by Pellinor the Third, Section 7.

Outbreaks such as this occurred over the years. The early conflicts were often caused because dark mages located a field and attempted to wrest control of it from nonmagical folk, who fought for control because it was a homestead, or in the later years because they understood it was in their best interests to keep the mages from gaining control of the fields. It was because of one dreadful conflagration in the northwest that the mist-mages joined forces to rid the land of the dark mages. The dark mages had discovered an enchanted metal and created weapons with it. (We know the metal today as virtanium.) These weapons would have been effective against the most brutal of monsters; against the general population, they were devastating. On a great battlefield, the mist-mages and dark mages gathered for a battle that lasted forty days and forty nights. (The number forty, of course, has mythic qualities. The fight was fierce, and I am sure it went on for some time, but forty days does seem a bit excessive.) When the smoke cleared, the magic of the mist-mages had prevailed, although the dark mages were by no means defeated. (Source: The Bloody History of Montague by Erika of Leinster, Manuscript 14. The history can be found in the Leinster Town Hall Records.)

A new breed of mage now stealthily appeared. These wizards disliked open warfare, and preferred to use their magic to defeat their enemies in subtle ways. This was the age of Pestulon, creator of the dreadful ratling, among other horrible things. Pestulon and his ilk wished not only to conquer the Realm, but also to destroy all that our gods created and replace it with their own. But lest I be judged judgmental, I will refrain from further criticism. (The definitive biography of Pestulon can be found at the University. It is called Mage or Myth? And was written by Norwell the Historian.) Suffice it to say that this was a very divisive time for many in the Realm, while others were, blissfully, ignorant of the events taking place around them.


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Part VIII

s those in the Realm are fully aware, recent events have been disturbing indeed. Forty summers ago the Realm was a thriving world of fully five-and-twenty towns, and countless villages. But it is as though the gods who were our champions have abandoned us. The mists, which once were a source of assurance that we were beloved of the gods, now have become a malevolent force. But forty summers ago, the mists began, subtly at first but then more and more invasively, to crowd in upon us. Travelers to the outlying towns reported that they were unable to locate them in the mists. Soon the mist had swallowed up towns and villages father inland. Eventually the Realm had shrunk to a tiny place of land in the middle of the mists.

This was disturbing in itself, but what was even more frightening was the disappearance of all races except humans, elves, and giants. The dwarves have vanished and the orcs, and even the fearies are now little more than ghosts of their once great presence. Some fanciful folk claim that these races have merely moved into the mists, where they live their lives much as they did here in the Realm. Reluctantly but definitively, I can assure every reader that this is not the case. Wherever these beings are, they are not in the mists.

Many people, hoping to reverse the mists through divine intervention, prayed and made sacrifices to powerful gods such as Despothes and Gaia, but the gods did not answer them. For nine-and-thirty years, they responded not to the cries of either the pious or the profane. The mists swirled and danced upon the land, and as with dreams, it seemed that nothing could save the Realm. And in the fortieth year, it is whispered, Misthos reappeared and spoke unto a chosen few.

And he told them what must be done to reverse the mists.


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Epilogue

his is the history of the Realm as I, Owain of Glynnhollow-in-the-Mists, have recounted it. Any written history, however, is subject to the biases of the author. I hope that in selecting one event to describe while excluding another I still have done justice to the world we know. The history of our land is a rich tapestry, and I have included those events and anecdotes I have considered most critical to an understanding of the land. I might have chosen any of hundreds—nay thousands—from which to choose. I would urge every serious student of history to read those tomes listed in the footnotes, and to seek out other sources of information.

I would like to thank the Council of Governors for commissioning this history, and for selecting me to set it down. Incidents are coming to pass across the land that foretell either the salvation or the destruction of the Realm. Energy patterns seem to be changing somehow, and as they change, so do they alter the local fauna. The trolls are gathering, an event unheard of five-and-forty summers ago. Additionally, a mysterious island has appeared in the sky to the east of Leinster. These and other events have the governors understandably concerned. The council felt that an examination of historical events in an orderly fashion might assist them in determining how best to reverse the mists and restore the Realm.

Let us pray to the gods of our ancestors that we prevail.

END OF ORWAIN’S COLLECTION OF REALM HISTORY


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