Post by ibinoth on Jul 26, 2014 12:22:52 GMT
The six kingdoms of Rhynn, Wengan, Khronn, Aida, Arylle and Seshir together make up the civilized world, surrounded on all sides by either endless oceans or the untamed stretches of wilderness simply known as the Wildlands.
Since times immemorable, the six kingdoms have fought among themselves, be it over resources, territory, religion or clashing ideologies.
Countless lives have been lost over the centuries as the six kingdoms bickered and quarreled with one another. Immeasurable amounts of blood has permeated the soil of their lands.
However, the time for aggression between the realms seemed to grind to a halt two scant decades ago, when the monarchs of the six realms gathered on neutral ground to end hostilities between their kingdoms once and for all.
The rulers of the realms were all wise and learned men and women, and realized that there would be more to gain from peace and cooperation than feuds and blood-oaths.
Over the course of sixty days, they settled every score, solved every dispute, not by the sword, but by way of words, and together they made a pact; a sacred oath that would ensure lasting peace throughout the realm.
Where the thundering hooves of mounted warriors had rushed towards a hapless settlement, there would now be the creaking of wagon wheels as trading caravans made their way through the realm.
Where drums of war once had echoed throughout the landscape, there would be the bleating of sheep and other livestock.
Where a blade had once pierced the heart of the enemy, a hand would be extended in friendship.
Twenty years have passed since the Pact of the Six Kingdoms was signed.
Twenty years without war, without aggression, where bloodshed and ancient
feuds were replaced by mutual cooperation and flourishing trade across
borders.
The six kingdoms have benefited greatly from this peaceful period, and
until recently, it seemed like this was to be the state of things.
Alas, fate is a harsh mistress, and calamity has once again befallen
the realms.
*
It began when the mountain kingdom of Rhynn closed the mighty gates that
allowed passage into their lush valleys. Rumors immediately began to spread
about what could have made them isolate themselves so from the other realms.
For several months, no news came of Rhynn, nor the emissaries from other
nations living therein. Messenger birds were left unanswered, couriers on
horseback were met by dark, silent gates and even scrying through magical
means was blocked by some unknown force.
The monarchs of the remaining five kingdoms congregated to discuss
this ill omen, and decreed that this act of isolation was in direct
violation of their truce.
A massive army, a coalition between the five kingdoms was gathered,
and they marched on the gates of Rhynn.
They presented whomever might reside within the gate keep an ultimatum:
Surrender, and allow their forces entry, or face the wrath of the five
kingdoms. They were met with silence.
With a heavy heart, the monarchs gave the order to attack, and the siege
began.
The moment their catapults opened fire on their gates, what had almost
seemed like an abondoned structure alltogether suddenly burst into activity.
The great rocks launched by their siege equipment were blown to smithereens
before they could strike the gate's surface, intercepted by bolts of magical
energy launched from several points along the ramparts by unseen sorcerers.
On the walls appeared ghastly, inhuman figures armed with great bows, larger
and more powerful than a mortal could hope to handle, yet these beast-like
beings seemed to handle them with ease.
Their arrows rained from the sky, sowing devastation among the ranks of the
army of the five kingdoms.
The monarchs gave the order to charge, laddermen and siege towers charging
ahead towards the walls.
It seemed for a short while that they would manage to overwhelm the defenders
with their sheer numbers, but the strange magics and otherworldly strength
of the gate guards exceeded all their fears.
Every soldier who stormed the wall was slaughtered. As the monarchs witnessed
their armies steadily shrinking while they hardly managed to put a dent in the
enemy's defenses, they realized the futility of their attack, and ordered them
to retreat.
The five armies had lost over a third of their number during these ten hours of
battle, and they could not bear seeing naught but one enemy fall for every hundred
of theirs.
*
A time of unrest followed. Stories of the disastrous attack spread like wildfire,
and the people lived in fear of the isolated kingdom.
Surely they were preparing for something inside those walls. Surely they were
massing more of those fiendish creatures that manned the gates, preparing to
unleash their armies upon the five kingdoms.
Time went on, and people lived under the shadowy threat of Rhynn for the better part
of a year.
Then, a wanderer approached the council of monarchs, with a handful of ragged companions
in tow.
This wanderer was none other than Prince Alden, firstborn son of King Drandon, and
heir to the throne of Rhynn.
He told tales of what had befallen his kingdom to those who would listen;
How perpetual night had descended upon the realm, dark clouds obscuring the sun from
sight, and the gates closing shortly thereafter, their guardsmen replaced by otherworldly
horrors.
The castle gates had been shut, not even the prince himself being granted entry to see
the king and queen. Shortly thereafter, he found himself under attack by creatures of
the night, and was forced to flee with his companions.
He issued a call for champions who could accompany him back to Rhynn, through a secret
passage through the mountains that would bypass the formidable vigil of the gates,
and venture into the heart of the kingdom and breach the royal citadel's defenses.
There, they would confront the king and queen, and get to the bottom of this mystery.
He promised fame and fortune, gold and glory, and a legacy that would never die, to
those who would accompany him.
From all across the kingdoms, great heroes stepped forth. Some out of a desire to
aid a kingdom in need, others with promised riches in mind.
Prince Alden and his companions set forth towards the mountains of Rhynn...
and were never heard from again.
*
The monarchs have now decreed that Alden and his fellowship must have failed their
mission, and have issued a call for more brave souls who would brave the land
of Rhynn, now refered to as "the Darklands".
Daunted by the failure of great legends, there are few who answer the call this
time around, but there are those who still believe they can succeed where others
have failed.
There are those like you.
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More is coming, among other things information about each individual realm.