"With its ivory spires, Ansulf was a monument to peace and connection between the Finite Races. Even in the face of the Early Wraith War, those spires stood resolute against the onslaught. The connection of the Finite Races remained strong."
- Tapplar's Tellings, Volume I
With time, the Lordly Pantheon returned to the Palace of Artukos to raze it once and for all, to wipe out any remnant or memory of Artukos that remained in the Wraith Globe. However, the magic within the Binding Seal at the peak of the monument was too strong to shatter, even for Viabaas, and so it remained, with Artukos' three tomes encased inside. Ishmael, one of the mightiest paladins of Viabaas, remained behind to guard the tomes against anyone who might wish to take them, for the power within those blood-stained pages was too mighty for even the Patheon to hold. The rest of the palace was brought crashing down, with only the rocky crags of Mount Karar'at remaining behind. As it had done when it first pierced the darkness, the sides of the peak once more gushed with fresh water, causing lush and green to flourish once more. With this the world would fade into a different light, a time of mortal resolve and a time of hope intermingled with despair. So would begin the legacy of mortals, and although the Lords and Ladies of the Pantheon would remain in the world for many an age, the story of those pulled from the void would come to represent all that the Wraith Globe was destined to become.
With their peoples' newfound freedom, the first leader of the mortal peoples would shepherd foward a code of honor, the idealogical foundations upon which the first nation would be built. Founded by the Lordborn of Viabaas, this code would naturally be built upon ideals of compassion, mutual respect, and communal strength, and so from this ten disciples of the new nation would rise, eight from each of remaining peoples first created by Artukos. The other two would come from the elemental peoples born from the condensing of Onus in the Elemental Crucible as well as the stone-skinned goliaths descending from the first giants, who acted as old guardians to the Well of Souls. This council of mortals would become known as the Obrons, and with time the nation that they as well as the first mortal leader created would come to be known by the same name, synonomous of those who created it.
The Obrons would spearhead the creation of the first city, built at the base of Mount Karar'at. These sweeping lands flowed with fresh spring water and boasted a growing population of diverse flora and fauna. Now that life was sweeping back into the world at large, growth and civilization would follow closely on its heels.
This place would be called Ansulf, which translates to "Angel Spires" in the tongue of Angels. Constructed to commemorate all who had fallen in the first age, Ansulf's pure white spires would tower above the flowing rivers of Karar'at and act as a symbol of peace, of the one who had saved the mortals from their slavery. Despite it's beauty rivalling that of the late palace, Ansulf's creation would be marked with joy rather than suffering, for its sculptors were willing and ready to make these spires spring into being.
Despite their differences, the creation of Ansulf would act as a uniting purpose for the mortal peoples. The first city would be creation in spite of a prideful creator, and so it would act as the final act of rebellion against Artukos, the High Lord of Pride.
As both stones and ideals were added to the foundation of Ansulf, the first winter of the world swept into the central forests and deserts of the Material Plane. Cryas, the Lord of winter, had finally found a domain and home for himself within the tundras of the Fey lands, and so the four Lords and Ladies of the seasons coalesced and began the centennial cycle of the Wraith Globe under the leadership of Akina. However, this posed an inadvertent threat to the mortal nation of Obron dwelling beside Karar'at. Harsh weather like nothing the Wraith Globe had seen before was bearing down upon them, but their unity and drive strengthened them as a people. The Gemm'ar burrowed into the earth and into the mountainside, providing both sanctuary and solitude from the harsh winter winds. The Ge'nash became savage hunters, providing food and warm pelts to the rest of the community. In the end, through their slavery under Artukos, the Finite Races had become an effecient collective, each a facet in the beautiful starry jewel of mortality.
With time and prayer, the ice and snow of the first winter thawed, and the construction of Ansulf, the first city of the mortal races, was completed. It was indeed a beautiful testimony to the unity of the Finite Races. The great bell of Ansulf tolled for the first time in its existence, perched high on the pinnacle of the city. Anima Frammen, the bell keeper of the first city, would become the first mortal guardian of the Finite Races. With his enormous war hammer, he would ring the bell in times of need to rally together the forces of the Wraith Globe. He described the bell to be his calling and destiny, and so he would remain there like a resolute statue until the destruction of Ansulf long after. Some even say that he became a gargoyle himself, tied to the fate of the bell until the end of the world, his great hammer forever clenched in a brittle stone fist. In truth, bellkeeper Frammen was the spiritual descendant of Koudouni, the grafted son that kept the bell safe on the end of its monstrous polearm, high on the peak of Artukos' cathedral. When the void beneath the Wraith Globe first formed, the silver flames of mortal souls were spread throughout, lying dormant. The same fate would fall upon many of the countless souls lost in the Lords' Rebellion, linger artifacts of memories faded.
However, it was clear to all that the city of Ansulf was to be used as far more than just a monument to the fallen or exalted. Through the first winter of the age, the Obrons would begin preparations that would fulfill what Viabaas had commanded them to do: to explore the reaches of the Wraith Globe and to make it their home. The Haerus who had chosen to descend from their stars at the end of the Lord's Rebellion told stories of the breadth of Artukos' creation, and the curiosity inherit in many of the mortal peoples was sparked.
The Ansulf Expeditions
"The world shall be an expanse, a testament to the pantheon, a testament to my power. Do you not see? Are all of you truly so blind? Your eyes are open but your minds are shut. Not one of you recognizes my pride: superiority!"
- Artukos, Grand Lord of Wraiths, Spectres, and Pride
The first expedition into the world at large would act as a jump into the unknown, but the Council knew that a jump would have to be made sooner or later. A search was conducted to find the best warriors, hunters, trackers, and tinkerers suited for the journey, and in a few months' time, a company of the most skilled was collected together. Provisions were readily packed and transportation was prepared.
Mapping and cartography was the primary purpose of this initial expedition, just one of many hurdles to pave the path forward for future endeavors. The desolation surrounding Mount Karar'at had receded after the death of the Wraith Lord, but the darkness still lingered in some places. One of the cartographers told of many large spiders, greater than anything they had ever seen before, crawling out of the depths of the earth. Another documented many trolls residing in the forests surrounding the lake produced by the rivers of Karar'at. The following is a full, stitched-together account of the first expedition far outside of the walls of Ansulf:
The expedition lasted a total of eight months, and the party chose to travel due southwest from Ansulf. The journey to the distant mountains lining the horizon was treacherous, the forests still holding Artukos's shadowy lifeforce, causing the vegetation to stagnate and wither. On their journey to the mountain range, the sonorous flora and fauna that had floursihed in the lands surrounding Ansufl were replaced by stilted grey vegetation. Stories passed down by the first generation of mortals had told of the lush green vistas Artukos had created out from the peak of Karar'at, so none were too sure of how this darkness had come about. Some said that it was the result of Artukos' pride, others said that it was a great death brought about by the High Lord of Death finding his domain within the world. Despite this uncertainty, it would become common belief among mortals that it had been a result of Artukos himself, stealing away all color from the world so that none of the other pantheon could take it from him.
The shadows of these forests stretched and twisted unaturally. One of the scout forerunners of the expedition spoke of how she saw dark fox-like shapes darting low to the ground among the looming trees, whispering of prospective promises and deals to her. "Their words were like sweet honey" she said, and so on the guise of surveying further ahead she decided to follow these forms stealthily. As they pushed further and further among the trees, a small clearing revealed itself, a towering tree with a perfect hole piercing its trunk swaying gently in the wind. All was silent except for the rustling of leaves and the whispers of shadows as she approached this tree. The hole at the center of its trunk was wide enough to reach one's hand into, and the bark within stretched back unnaturally far, as if the space within was not confined by the tree's size. Only faint grey light and blurry shapes could be seen filtering through the opposite end. The brash scout at least had the foresight to not investigate further, instead choosing to return to their compatriots and share what they had seen. With the barriers to Artukos' sixteen stars now sitting freely in the sky, the impentrable boundaries between this plane and the others overlapping it would begin to grow cracks, acting as gateways. These "eyes of the forest" would become the most common form taken by gateways to the Shadowfell, the same place the Yuan-Ti and their fellow mortal exiles had fled after the fall of Artukos.
Once through the forest, the group still had no chance to rest their minds or wits. The the southwest mounta range crumbled and shook constantly for reasons unknown, causing massive rockslides and geographic shifts, sometimes pushing them backward in their journey up to a day's travel. One of the cartographers met their demise during the rock slides, but the remaining survivors pushed onto the other side of the mountain range. Beyond was a beautiful landscape laid out before them: a collection of volcanic land, lush forests and glades, and a massive body of water to the south. The convoy's provisions were running low for the return journey, and so they chose to explore the dense forests and glade that lay in the approximate center of this beautiful valley. The shadows lengthened and the darkness deepened as they pushed deeper into the foliage, but the air was becoming thick and saturated with water vapor. They came across a strange, black gate, one that lay in the earth and was bound by some form of great lock. Unsettled by the haunting atmosphere of this place, the group did not remain long and instead turned tail, returning the way they had come.
The first charts of lands beyond Ansulf were completed, this journey was hailed as a success, and the surviving members of the expedition group were treated as heroes of the first city. Much merrymaking was had on their return, and the unity of the Finite Races once again shined like a beacon in the sky.
The following expeditions would have a multitude of purposes, whether it would be to map out areas, collect geological samples, or survey potential locations for new settlements and outposts. In this time of expansion, many small trading outposts were created, whether by adventurous individuals or by the Obrons. The geographical growth of the mortals was rapid during the early years, and expeditions were a monthly routine within Ansulf. The competition for joining expeditions grew, and those who were skilled or lucky enough to take part were hailed as great leaders of the mortal peoples. This ultimately became the legacy of Ansulf, the first city: exploration, innovation, and fame. The unity, collaboration, and creativity of the Finite Races were central to Ansulf, and it began to expand outwards and upwards, snaking its way up the base of Mount Karar'at.
Despite Viabaas' grand comission, few within the nation of Obron wished to found or settle colonies distant from the shining spires of Ansulf. Some believed it to be caused by unity, but I believe that it was something more sinister: a lingering bond to Artukos and their previous home within the mountain. Despite this inclination, with time the Obrons would begin to make plans for a sister settlement to Ansulf, a large port town along the eastern shores of the largest reservoir at the foot of Mount Karar'at. With this, many of the Obrons hoped to send a seafaring expedition down the countless branching waterways flowing from within Mount Karar'at, away from the mountain and the safety of Ansulf. However, the Haerus Obron, a fair-skinned Elven man, believed purely in the great spectacle of Ansulf alone, his indignation causing the plans for the port town to slow to a crawl.
Succession and Monsrete
"We sit here at the brink of something filled with life and possiblity. But the question is, will these flames of passion singe or shape?"
- The First Mortal Luminary
As the great nation of Obron began to grow beyond the confines of Ansulf, the health of the first mortal leader began to waver. A strange sickness had befallen him, one that would slowly sap away all strength and energy, leaving behind only sickly yellow boils in its wake. The people of Ansulf came together once more in an attempt save their leader, many searching the land surrounding Ansulf for any herbs that may prove helpful, those unable to join in the search raising up prayers to the pantheon for the recovery of their leader. In coming years within the nation of Obron, this period in early Spring would become an time of caring for the sickly and wounded across the nation.
Despite his people's best efforts, the first mortal leader of Obron would pass away peacefully in his sleep a few weeks later, never to awake. Beside his bed was a single piece of parchment, the following words written shakily in the tongue of Angels and signed by the luminary of Obron:
"We sit here at the brink of something filled with life and possiblity. But the question is, will these flames of passion singe or shape?"
The ten Obrons would quickly jump into action following this tragedy, setting forth celebrations of their grand Lordborn leader rather than mournings. With this shift in power the Obrons would quickly become the leading council of the nation, continuing were their predecessor had left off. Much of the power over the nation of Obron had already been transferred to the Obrons, but with their leader's death there was no more doubt, the mortal nation was in the hands of this council of ten. Planning for the port city along the shores of what was called lake Rhymirs would progress steadily, bringing a time of waterborne exploration along the many twisting rivers, the Rhyms, ever closer. This town would be named Monsrete, the mountain net. Monsrete would near completion towards the end of the third spring, and the Obrons commerorated their late letter with this settlment, placing a stone depiction of him protruding from the water, acting as a marker for incoming and outgoing ships. The popularity of fishing would help to jumpstart the town on the lake, allowing for fishermen to reach more distant bodies of water.
Soon enough, by the time the third winter was fast approaching, multiple expeditions along the outflowing waterways and all the way to the oceans beyond would be completed, bringing with it new culinary commodities and questions alike. Oceanic seafood would become a delicacy in the kitchens of Monsrete and Ansulf, and many were fascinated by the idea of unbroken water stretching to horizon. Mysteries of this ocean were plentiful, for the few who had see it in person and bathed in its waters described a particular oddity. These vast waters had a pulse, a continuous heartbeat like the slow thrumming of a drum. This heartbeat of the ocean was what caused tides and waves to crest and fall upon the shores, but the source of this pulse was unknown to all among the mortals.
There were a few within Monsrete, particularly a number of the Sea Haerus hailing from the traquil sea of Certitude, who made a pilgrimage along the twisting Rhyms near the waning of the third year, hoping that these waters were kin to those in their home plane of Certitude. Upon reaching the vast oceans of Wraith Globe, these pilgrims would commune and become one with the sea, the method to do so being known only by the Sea Haerus. This would mark the birth of Merfolk in the Wraith Globe. A people brought about by a communing between the first creation and the souls within the Billowings of Void, washed clean by the tides of the ocean. These pilgrims of the sea would fade peacefully into obscurity, only returning to matters of the world and of their mortal brethren after the devastation of the Lord's Hammerblow.
The War of Crimson Stars
"The Olümias are a race of the Fegnaór in any case, and therefore cannot be trusted... They are devious and deceptive. This fact also sheds some light on the nature of the dark nation, Necrotus..."
- Radrias Farstride, A Grand Mage of Algos
During the third and fourth years the nation of Obron would continue to flourish, splinter cities and outposts cropping up from both Ansulf and Monsrete. However, as the Fourth year shifted from Spring, to Summer, to Autumn, the sixteen stars of Viabaas' ring would begin to shine crimson rather than cerulean, one by one. Stained by the bloodlust within their plane, the blood of the innocents fallen within would come in occassional torrents, a terrible omen for the future fast approaching...
For while the mortals spread and populated the lands of the Wraith Globe, the sixteen stars above were toiling against a remnant of the first age: the five legionnaires of Artukos. In the wake of their creator's fall, the five Fegnaór still bound to the mind of Artukos would aim toverthrow the thing most precious to Viabaas and the pantheon: the mortals they had fought so hard to free. However, the material expanses of the Wraith Globe were under the watchful eyes of many a Lord and Lady, and so the Fegnaór turned to an easier target. They would lay siege to five of the sixteen stars in Viabaas' ring, taking dominion of them and using them as a staging round for a direct assault on Ansulf, Monsrete, and the lands surrounding.
Although many of the Haerus and Logius had chosen to join their brethren in the material plane, some had chosen to stay behind, tending to the order within their home planes. The slaughter was quick yet painful, the remaining forces of the Wraith Lord sweeping through that of the Abyss, Gehenna, Pandemonium, Acheron, and Hades, and razing all that lived there into ash and dust. Although these stars had once been beautiful, they were now desolate reflection of the Fegnaór's own wanton pride, no longer respecting even the creation of the late Artukos.
The Fegnaór of lust, Lorintus, came to reside in The Abyss, the plane of gruesome chaos. It is said that during the rotations between the fall of Artukos and the Early Wraith War, Lorințus learned to take the form of a perfect mate and to tempt any of the mortal races, destroying the tempted at their most vulnerable moment. A legion of Vitsodens followed Lorintus in its massive fortress of twisted stone and metal. Once a playground of the physical, a kaleidoscopic landscape that mesmerized and entertained the mind, the order of such paradox would be thrown into chaos, resulting in nothing but a scattered semblance of the physical properties of the Wraith GLobe to remain.
The Fegnaór of greed, Lăcomix, settled in Gehenna, the plane of suspicion. Lăcomix's fortress was formed on a floating island levitating above the highest layer of Gehenna. The furnishings of this lair were the richest to ever be seen by human eyes, but it was all a facade for the dark nature of the place. Once a great flat quarry stretching unto infinity, meant to form and chisel the largest and most opulent statues and stonework, the very axis of Gehenna was thrown askew, causing gravity itself to tilt to a diagonal, resulting in a mountainous expanse with no end of beginning, the remnants of great stone monuments and depictions the only reminder of Gehenna's created purpose.
The Fegnaór of wrath, Aanira, came to reside in Pandemonium, the plane of madness. Among the howling winds of pandemonium, an enormous crimson hive-like mountain towers rose as Aânira dominated the plane. The constant wrathful screams of Aânira could be heard throughout the peak of Pandemonium. The mountains of Pandemonium had once been filled with opulent dining halls, meant for Artukos to meet with his most trusted servants among the Haerus. Now eroded smooth by the piercing cries of the Jagged Mask, nothing is left of the opulence Pandemonium once had.
The Fegnaór of envy, Invido, settled in Acheron, the plane of war. The most powerful armies of the past came under Invido's command after his struggle with Aanira, pushing her to perpetual bloodlust and madness. The rooms of his newly won fortress learned to constantly change from one gruesome battlefield to another, symbolizing the selfish struggle that he embodied. Once under the dominion of Aanira, the two opposing Fegnaór rushed for control of Acheron in the first years of the angel age. It is said that the landscape of Acheron populated by countless floating cubes, on which shadows of old wars are fought, is the aftermath of Aanira and Invido hurling chunks of the landscape at one another's force.
The Fegnaór of pride, Mândri, came to reside in Hades, the plane of gloom. The leeches of hades form the entirety of this legionnaire's fortress, a crawling chaos that sweeps over the land and drains all color and hope from the surrounding acres. Once the receptacle through which all mortal souls were shepherded elsewhere after death, Hades would instead act as a great pit of despair, trapping souls travelling through it into a cycle of despair until their eventual fading away.
With the Ansulf Expeditions came a recession of the legion's spies and scouts, but their forces were only growing as the prosperity of the nation of Obron made them oblivious to the dangers around them. Soon enough, when the winter of the fourth year was nearly upon Ansulf, the Legions of the five Fegnaór began their suprise assault on Ansulf's neighbor, Monsrete. the ports of Monsrete would be swiftly burned to cinders, allow no escape over water. the guard of Monsrete was small and nowhere prepared for such an assault, and so the brave guard of Monsrete futily held back the hordes as long as they could to allow for as many in Monsrete to escape into Ansulf as possible. All of these brave souls were slaughtered, but they were not yet dead. Their corpses would become tainted by the Fegnaór‘s dark desires and ambitions, which would lead to creation, perhaps an echo of Artukos' power in his brain childrens' ambitions...
As the survivors of Monsrete took refuge in Ansulf, very little time was left before the forces of both Wraiths and Specters would be at the walls of the first mortal city. Alogn with preparing all the warriors within the city, the Obrons called a meeting amongst all the commonfolk of Ansulf, crying out to the Lordly Pantheon for deliverance from this dire situation, but there was no immediate answer.
The wraith forces battered themselves relentlessly against the battlements of the city, the bell of Ansulf ringing repeatedly and ominously in the distance. With the advantage of the city, the forces of the legion were kept at bay, but their might was great. The walls of the city and the will of the people within would not hold out forever. Ansulf was brutally sieged for for the following seven hours, deep into the early hours of the morning.
Upon the stroke of the seventh hour, Viabaas finally answered. By this time, the city and its peoples were a walking corpse, just waiting for their inevitable doom before the hands of Fegnaór's forces, but Viabaas would not allow this fate to unfold. The front gate of Ansulf would finally be battered down by the legion. Sweeping into the city, the front of mortal resistance was slowly pushed back until commonfolk and chapion alike were led into the caves that the mortals used as shelter during the first winter, a hole in which they would be slaughtered and left to the rats. The only other portion of the city that was never overtaken by the Wraith and Specter legions was the bell tower of the city, for Anima the bell keeper and his two faithful apprentices refused to let the great toll of the city be silenced. The toll of the bell continued until the very moment that the Lord of Angels strode into the fray.
I am not completely certain what took Viabaas so long to reply to the mortals' pleas for help, but he came with all his angelic fury nonetheless. He came with Daemor, the Wraith Slayer, the great glaive that pierced Artukos, the Lord of Pride, and slaughtered the countless legions singlehandedly. Only the Fegnaór and a few of the lower Wraiths and Spectres survived this onslaught and managed to crawl their way back into the dark corners they had made their home in Viabaas' Ring. There Viabaas launched Daemor into the sapphire midday sky, where it transformed into a beautiful multicolored bird, a prismatic wave of Lordly beauty. He announced that his trusted weapon would forevermore act as a barrier surrounding the Material Plane, through which no Wraith or Specter could ever pass. Viabaas saw this sacrifice as a worthy one, for he respected the pursuits of the mortal peoples and what they had built up for themselves since they were freed from the evil of Artukos. And so the exile of the Legion of Artukos began, and the Finite Races were allowed to explore the reaches of the Material Plane and advance their knowledge as a people freely.
However, there would be an aftermath to this war, one that not even the Lords and Ladies of the Pantheon would expect. Out of the countless who fell during the last defense of Monsrete, one would rise from the mass grave dug by the legions of Artukos. This sinkhole in the earth filled to the brim with bodies, known as Kleul Olüm, would act as the nursing ground of a new mortal race, a people who would be shunned for many an age. One warrior rose from the pile, a young beautiful woman, now tainted by the visage of the Fegnaór. This woman, known as the Olüm, was the first of the Olümias, the Tieflings. Tinged with the blood and slaughter of the Wraith legionnaires, the Tieflings possessed a less than savory appearance: a pair of horns sprouting out of the top of their head and a long, flexible tail sprouting out of their tailbone. The Olüm climbed from her birthplace, but she would not be welcomed into the world. By many within Ansulf, the Olümias were seen as a blight of the Wraiths and Spectres, and so they were shunned from the first city. However, the husband of the Olüm, one of those who had managed to escape Monsrete and find refuge in Ansulf, remained stalwart and chose to be exiled with his wife, and so the line of Tieflings endured, separate from yet parallel to the development of the nation of Obron.
The Recovery of Artukos' Trinkets
"This megalith shall ever be engraved into your minds, for you are the Art, and the Art is you. The Art is above and the Art is below, for it is that which has caused the miracles of the Two to become One.
The Art is that which above has planned before its fall below. That which created the Art is below and like to that which is above.
The power of the Art is that which can never be understood. The stars tremble and the earth shifts at its very presence, the beast lies down dead within its gaze.
The Art must be kept safe, for the power to shatter mountains, dry oceans, and move the stars themselves is far too great for the likes of-..."
- An Excerpt from the Emerald Tablet
Decades would pass after the War of Crimson Stars, and it was inevitable that something left behind by the Wraith Lord would eventually stumble its way into the hands of his mortal slaves. Ishmael, the great guardian left by Viabaas to watch over the Binding Seal, was reaching the end of his life. His shield fell, and death finally embraced his worn hands, and so the three tomes of Artukos were left unguarded at the peak of Mount Karar'at. The second of the linked life force caused the barrier to drop, only for those living in Ansulf to fall for the temptation, retrieving those long-neglected artifacts.
From the rubble of the monument to Artukos’ the Creator’s Claw clutched three ancient tomes, untouched by the ravages of time. In these pages, Artukos had documented everything he had learned, and so they held a sliver of the Wraith Lord’s power of creation. However, the rituals required to activate the tomes’ powers were utterly unknown to the Finite Races, and so they remained locked in a vault deep within the confines of the first city.
Each of these artifacts was a notebook detailing a different fundamental domain of the world: of time, of the arcane, of the physical. Through meticulous study of these tomes yet more mysteries fell upon the mortals. Although vague, there was intention behind the writing of these three tomes. Various depiction of a mechanism vaguely resembling a sundial occassionally appeared throughout all the tomes, and the Wraith Lord's documentation of these natural laws suggested that some aspects of the Wraith Globe were even beyond him, its creator. However, the mortal's spite for their Lordly slavemaster blinded them, and these questions fell through their fingers, not to be picked up and asked again for many ages.
Along with the power of creation, these books had the power to alter their respective domain. The three tomes of Artukos are as follows:
The Tome of Prospects had the power over the domain of time and timelines, having the ability to alter the flow of time or rewrite timelines altogether. Use of this tome required a ritual that required mass amounts of bloodstone, a mineral that could only be found deep within the bowels of Mount Karar’at in that day and age. The pages of this notebook outlined the flow of time, Artukos’ study of parallel timelines, and the creation of the great world clock that had become known as Mechanus. Furthermore, the Tome of Prospects would allow the mortals to learn of how the Lords and Ladies dream of timelines never realized, for the concepts of dreams and time were closely connected.
The Tome of Esoterica had the power over the domain of magic, something that had not yet fully been discovered by the Finite Races, for the great laboratory underneath had not been revealed. This tome had the ability to manipulate the very magic within an individual or a group of individuals, potentially granting them proficinecy in the arcane or stripping those abilities from them. Furthermore, the Tome of Esoterica had the potential to aid in the creation of extremely powerful magical artifacts by using its contents as a blueprint.
The Tome of Alchemy had the power over the domain of alchemy: the states of the physical world and the changes or reactions they undergo. Housed within were notes regarding the nature of Artukos' creation, the nature of Limbo's chaos encroaching on the tranquility of Certitude, and all that the Wraith Lord knew about the Far Realm and the consequent transitions between the two realms. The Tome of Alchemy, with the use of a legendary Creator's Stone, a powerful alchemical focus specifically created by Artukos, could allow for not only creation, but also transmutation. It is not even known if a Creator's Stone still exists, but if it were, the Tome of Alchemy would hold immense power of creation and transformation, only trumped by Artukos' abilities. Without such a powerful alchemical focus, the book is still capable of creating and transforming select matter with various rituals, but these processes are complex, time-consuming, and prone to backfiring.
These three trinkets of the Wraith Lord would raise more questions among the Finite Races than answers. This is the time in which the ancient Order of the Art began to form with the sole focus of understanding the books and that which was documented within. Written in the tongue of the Pantheon, the three tomes began to slowly be deciphered by the most learned scholars, until finally a general understanding of all three volumes and the knowledge within was reached. At this time, the Order began to form in the dark yet scholarly places of Ansulf, and one individual emerged as their leader under the pen name of Smaragdina. Their true name is unknown, but they were the first innovators of an idea that would come to change the trajectory of the Wraith Globe and the surrounding realms for all eternity: Arcane Alchemy. The combination of alchemy and magic was a dangerous proposition, one that was never intended by Artukos when he created the Wraith Globe. Through an elaborate heist involving the most skilled mortal thieves and tricksters, the Tome of Esoterica and the Tome of Alchemy would be stolen from the vaults of Ansulf. They would not be found again by those outside of the Order until the sixth age, which would eventually lead to the dreaded Great Wish.
The heist of the tomes from Ansulf's vaults within the stone of Mount Karar'at was something that took years to plan and weeks to pull off. By that time, the underground influence of the Order of the Art was significant, significant enough to draw in expert criminals looking for a profit. In the end, their greed would fuel another prophet, a prophet and herald of the catalyst for the end of the world. But, in the end, it is my fault nonetheless, and I will carry that mistake as a scar for all eternity.
The Creation of the Deck of Many Things
"The Deck of Many Things is both the most terrifying and fascinating magical relic of the Wraith Globe. It has unfathomable potential, both to help and to harm. However, in my personal opinion, the Deck of Many Things is a temptation to be avoided."
- Garu Ko, High Mage
Beyond the sphere of the nation of Obron, the mortal peoples, and even the material plane, a conflict was brewing within the Lordly Pantheon. Khraura, the Lower Lord of Chaos, had twisted the resolve of Marba, the Angel’s Bow. In doing so, he took The Gate of the Creation, a path to the Far Realm for his own devices. From this, Schimbaru became the outer plane of change, a starlit citadel of forever-shifting corridors and violet twilight. From that sanctuary, tucked away on the edge of the Wraith Globe, Khraura would begin to enact his master scheme. Forged from the starlight of chaos, change, and chance, one by one Khraura created an awful deck of cards, one that held immense energy, a power that could be harnessed by anyone. This was the birth of the Deck of Many Things, an artifact with terrible potential. A single deck consisted of 13 playing cards, all harbingers of destruction. If a card were chosen at random from the deck, the effects of that given card, whether greatly positive or greatly negative, would take place. After all, it is only fitting that the Lord of Chaos would create chaos incarnate.
The Lord of Chaos began his masterpiece with the Fates card, an object much akin to the Tome of Prospects. He carried on by designing the Throne, Rogue, Knight, Void, Vision, Talons, and Favor cards, along with countless others, aiming to create hundreds, if not thousands, of decks, a collection of magic capable of devastating the entire Wraith Globe with utter chaos and confusion. At the time, not much was known about Khraura's motivation to do this, for there was peace and prosperity throughout the world. However, Khraura knew in his very soul that he must do what he could to right the wrongs that had been committed against him.
Khraura wished to distribute the many magical cards to the Finite Races, giving them enough power to rebel against even the Lords and Ladies of the Pantheon if they wished. After the smoke cleared, The Lord of Chaos would stride over the corpses of both the FInite Races and the Pantheon, picking off stragglers and ultimately naming himself the new ruler of the Wraith Globe, the second in line after Artukos.
As the nation of Obron grew and the influence of the mortal peoples spread across the Wraith Globe, the Deck of Many things was forged within the Cathedral of Schimbaru one by one. Khraura sent out agents of chaos among the mortals to promote a deviant philosophy: that the strength of the Pantheons should be surmounted and taken by the mortals, that power was a promised birthright to the mortals of the Wraith Globe. In time, these ideas would stick with a few among the mortals, but not in the way Khraura was planning.
With time, the grand tower in which Khraura designed the Deck of Many Things, the Cathedral of Schimbaru, would become a haven of all sorts of forbidden knowledge. As a succession to Artukos' studies of the fundamental rules of the world, he would create a journal documenting his studies into the spacial natures of the Wraith Globe, and so the Tome of Expanse would be born. The non-euclidian and mind-bending nature of the Cathedral of Schimbaru would act as the first testament to this tome's innate powers. Star charts from timelines that never occurred, all knowledge already learned and fated to be learned, and even the alleged Creator Stone would wind up in Schimbaru at one moment or another, but this sanctuary of chaos and secrecy would soon be cracked like a glass sphere. Even with his ability to cloud his intentions in chaos, the goals of Khraura would not remain hidden from the Lordly Pantheon forever. In time, his plot would be found out by Viabaas, and there would be great consequences for the insurrection of the Lord of Chaos.
A number of the Pantheon stormed into Schimbaru by force, blocking all escape for the Lord of Chaos. Like a trapped rat about to drown, Khraura would take any opportunity to escape, no matter how dangerous. In the end, he would slip away from sight, past the Gate of The Creation, and into the Far Realm, a world where his fate would be uncertain. The Lord of Chaos facing a fate of chaos, it is truly fitting. Unwilling to follow Khraura into a place so similar to his own domain, the other Lords and Ladies tore Schimbaru to pieces, burning any cards that they happened to find. However, with the last of his strength, Khraura had both hidden and dispersed one last Deck of Many Things, just in case a member of the Finite Races, much like himself, aimed to assemble the cards and wreak ultimate havoc on the world. Ultimately, there would be one who would do such a thing: the pilgrim of the sixth age. They too would be an intertwined soul like Khraura, and they too would walk the line between chaos and order.
Khraura would remain there in the Far Realm for more than an age, regaining his true, original lifeforce due to the nature of his new abode. However, the second part of his soul would not be appeased. Not satisfied with how history had unfolded, it would have nothing less than the vengeance it deserved, and so it would slowly worm its way back into control wishing for a summoning ritual from those who obeyed him so long ago.
The Collapse of Obron
"As Elwin fell, we all fell. Obron is no more. Our unity is no more. I'm sorry, but this will be the last time I speak in public. I admit, later today I will be with Viabaas and the rest of the Lordly Pantheon. Good day."
- Son of Elwin, Elven among the Obrons
As time passed, the cracks in the leadership of the Obrons would begin to become visible. Amidst the Order of the Arts and the influence of Khraura, the unity of the nation of Obron was wearing thin. Collaboration was turning to disagreement, disagreement to uprising, and uprising to rebellion. In the end, the unrest throughout the continent of the material plane culminated in one brutal act: the Rebellion of Able. The third generation of the Council of the Finite Races had been recently elected, and the original council members had been bid farewell in an elaborate ceremony on the shores of the lake Rhymir, but this day would mark an end to the pompous cermemony the Obrons were known for. Elwin Harius, the newly-elected Elven among the Obrons, was suddenly ambushed along with his escort in the forests outside of the suburbs of Ansulf. There were no survivors. This attack caused an uproar throughout all of the nation of Obron, as it marked the first instance of political assassination, and at that, unrest, among the mortal peoples. Elwin Harius had been the most controversial of the newly elected council members, but politically-motivated slaughter was unheard of until now. The unity of all mortal under the Lords' Rebellion had finally shattered. With a shift in power coinciding with this hateful act, chaos ensued, and there was revolt in every corner of Ansulf, Monsrete, and the material plane. After a few short weeks of violent turmoil, it was clear that the internal conflict was only escalating with time. The remaining Obrons were promptly evacuated from Ansulf, and a sudden surge of hurried escape ensued. Ultimately, Ansulf, the shining beacons of unity, fell to the flames of its own people. Despite this, the bell of Ansulf would ring proudly until its very last moment, its keepers cut down not out of a purpose but out of a lack of one. For this, the symbol of the late city of Ansulf would remain its proud brass bell until the end of the eighth age.
However, the escape of the Obrons from the carnage was not yet guaranteed. The rebellion against the third generation of Obrons had grown since their opening act, and they along with two hundred professional soldiers, were caught on the road leading out of the first city by a blockade of radical rebels. Against all odds, the council survived in its entirety along with one soldier: Orion Tyrell, the Grand Brigadier of Obron. The stretches of Obron quickly followed suit as their once-precious Obrons went underground, and so the first nation of mortals fell to revolution.
From the ashes of Obron rose four fledging nations, each a corruption in their own right.
First was the nation of Ban-Rock-Buren, the Ga'nesh providence of warmongers and warlords. There, the powerful preyed on the weak, the powerful remained powerful, and violence was the shortest path to any goal. They came to inhabit the harsh desert and plateau lands to the north of Mount Karar'at, and at the base of Mount Karar'at they would come to build their great Emerald Champion, a monument to tyranny besides the remains of the late Ansulf.
Second was the nation of Algos, the providence of coin and corruption. Born from convolution that some believed would prevent a second revolution, Algos relied on the power of hierarchy and economy to enforce power and policy. They came to inhabit the swampy and forested lands south of Mount Karar'at, and would come to rule over the most land of the four infant nations.
Next was the nation of Ucrua, the providence of industry and marketeering. Through the innovative minds of the Gemm'ar and the Logius, Ucrua quickly became the fuel for the engine of war on both sides of the impending conflict. They came to inhabit the coastal plains and beaches east of Mount Karar'at.
Last was the nation of Lorkay, the providence of pacifism and indecision. The many refugees from Obron that belong to none of the other newly-born nations ended up here, under the Great tent of Lorkay. A nation devoted to pacificism, Lorkay would refuse to act against the atrocities bound to occur, and so they would be the first of the four to fall. They would come to inhabit the temperate and varied terrain west of Mount Karar'at.
Along with these fledging nations, a philosophy born from the Lord of Chaos also lept into the minds of the mortals. From this, the order and elegy of the Lordseekers would be born, the thought that Lordly pantheon had caused all of this strife as puppetmasters much like Artukos. Wanting revenge, these Lordseekers would return to the smouldering remains of Ansulf within the borders of Ban-Rock-Buren not to wage a war against their fellow mortals, but against the Lords and Ladies of the Pantheon themselves. Their elegy and legacy is as follows:
The Lords of folley
The children of men
They who climb Karar'at
They who withstood the great siege
They who stand on the last Citadel
They are the true Lords
Where unity had once persisted, there was now only strife among the mortal peoples. Ban-Rock-Buren was the violent, Algos was the deceptive, Ucrua was the abettor, and Lorkay was the silent. All were broken, just as Artukos' own inner circle had been. War broke out shortly after the fall of Obron between Ban-Rock-Buren and Algos, as they felt that the other threatened their right to power. Ucrua encouraged this conflict by forging and selling weapons of great efficiency, and Lorkay stood back, refusing to take action or end the conflict. This is the destiny of the mortals and, at that, the Wraith Globe at large.
The Lord's Hammerblow
"The Finite Races no longer harbor that hope that I saw so long ago. It mortifies me to see how closely they have fallen to the one who formed them. As I regretfully must repeat, even those who are closest to each other must sometimes show compassion by letting the other go. I know what I must do, and I know that I must not hesitate. If they live to see another sunrise on this cursed globe, I pray that they will have learned their faults."
- Viabaas, the High Lord of Compassion, Family, and Angels
The fall of the nation of Obron was met by the Lordly Pantheon with a mix of sadness and disgust. Viabaas, above all else, felt great remorse for the mortals and the nature they had been cursed with, for they would forever have a piece of Artukos and the billowings of the void within them. He asked the other Lords and Ladies to stay silent and not take action until he had come to a decision: to destroy or to nurture. Viabaas even considered attempting to form his own creation with the souls inside the void, but he dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared within his mind. Some even say that for many rotations Viabaas retreated into his own mind to think, losing all connections with the Wraith Globe and the Lordly Pantheon. If that is the case, then when Viabaas awoke he had finally come to a decision, one that would spell out much change for the Wraith Globe's current path through time.
With so much war and strife, so much pain and torment, many of the mortal peoples were suffering. The Half-Orc mongrels of Ban-Rock-Buren were being forced to fight in the gladiatorial pits of the Emerald Champion, The commonfolk of Algos were unwittingly being crushed under the tyranny of their overlords, and the many hoping to find solace in Lorkay were slowly becoming neglected as the economy of the Great Tent slowly crumbled. To some, the acts of Viabaas that followed would be seen as mercy instead of cruelty, and they might have been right. Unwittingly, a new enemy would emerge, and unity had the potential of shining through once more, but only time would tell.
From the Peak of Mount Karar'at, the beginning of creation, the spear that pierced the void, the Lord of Compassion looked down on the desolate no man's land surrounding the mountain. The silvery tears of the Lord flowed freely in those moments, for his conflicted mind had just enough strength and resolve to carry out what he knew to be necessary. He raised his tightly clenched fist and with a loud pained cry slammed it deep into the earth, further down than the deepest roots of the mountain. A shining brilliance erupted from the fissure, letting out a resounding thundercrack that would echo across the borders of the outer planes. The entire Material Plane shook on its foundations as if it were a fragile plate balanced on the tip of Viabaas' finger, ready to break at the slightest twitch. Cracks in the earth spread from the center of the world branching downwards and outwards as the massive continent that the mortal races had learned to call home cracked at its seams, dividing one into many. From this hammerblow the central continent of the Material Plane was divided into eight: one central land mass and seven pieces of debris from the mainland.
This act of the Pantheon would amplify the chaos of the conflict between the mortals and cause more strife within the splinter islands of the world. Before this time, the mortals had not yet ventured out into the further depths of ocean surrounding the continent of the material plane. In the boundary between the 18 outer planes and the Material Plane laid the Phase Lands, the transition between the plane of the void and the physical. In that place lay many ethereal aberrations, half spectral and half physical. The inhabitants of those land masses that were split from the main continent quickly fell to anarchy as they realized that they were no longer tied to the four children of Obron. However, with time the influence of the Phase Lands would reveal itself as a greater threat to those involuntary exiles.
From the conflict of the edge of the known world would later come a great line of mortal rulers, a line that would fall to earth-shaking tyranny by the time it was ended. This lineage would be destined to uncover the greatest mortal temptation, one that would be fought over violently: age immortality.
With Viabaas' seeming act of mercy upon the mortals, the age in which the Pantheon walked on the material plane ended abruptly as controversy grew among the Lords and Ladies of the Wraith Globe. From this moment onward, much of the Pantheon would observe the world from a distance or in secret rather than interact with them directly. There would come to be many exceptions to this first recession, but the Pantheon had reached a consensus, one that Viabaas still refused to believe: that the souls of the Finite races had been tainted by Artukos' pride from the very beginning.
In this time of great confusion, a previously minor member of the Pantheon would take a more important role, nonetheless remaining unknown to many Lords and Ladies who were preoccupied with more urgent concerns. Only Akina knew this Lord’s real name, but all others would come to know him as Mozuir, the High Lord of Death. Before the Lord's Hammerblow, Viabaas personally guided the souls of the dead to their fated destination, but with his abrupt hermitage another would have to fill the role, and Mozuir seemed to have his work cut out for him in the coming age.
The specifics of Mozuir's place in the pantheon before this time is dubious at best, for although death was always a factor among mortals, it was the Angel Lord that would guide departed souls elsewhere. Clad in a ragged grey cloak decorated with golden chains, the Lord of Death has no head save for a large arcane flame, a swirling of umbral purples and sapphire blues. His body seems human, but is sickly and decaying, the neck of his body severed cleanly. In the years following the Lords’ Hammerblow, Akina would be one of the only members of the Pantheon actively communicating with Mozuir. At the time, it was uncertain exactly what the connection between Akina and Mozuir Wraith Globe was, but that secret would be revealed in time, and a door of understanding would be opened in my own mind.
Another Path Forward - The Age of the Steward
"Through folly and fate, atop the peak of Karar'at and the high spires of my home Ansulf, I raise this blade to the legacy of the True. Lords."
- Juratus, the Last Lordseeker
Although unlikely, perhaps there was a moment of hesitation from the Lord of Compassion as he raised his fist to deliver a hammerblow to the Wraith Globe. Perhaps in that moment of hesitation, the Lordseekers, hoping to gain retribution against the Pantheon, faced the Angel Lord fearlessly. Perhaps, after a long and arduous battle, Viabaas fell, his body going still and lifeless as hope that the mortals could still hold compassion burned brightly. Such would begin the legacy of the Lordseekers.
With their leader Viabaas dead, the Pantheon's next action would be obvious: destroy the mortals as the remnants of Artukos' pride that they were. But mortal pride nor resolve would die so easily. The largest cities within Ucrua and Algos would be the first to be wiped off the face of the Wraith Globe, but in the aftermath the Lordseekers of the late Ansulf would search for their ultimate quarry. Through resolve and strength, the lower Lords and Ladies of the pantheon would be ensnared within their domains and killed mercilessly.
Although a mortal cannot take the domain of a Lord of Lady without ensuring their own death, there was one among the Lordseekers descended from the first luminary of Obron: Juratus Dastly. With Lordborn blood running through his veins, Juratus would train with the son of the first mortal luminary, a swordsman renowned throughout all of the late nation of Obron. Juratus would show great promise with the blade, but with the death of his mentor he would hunger for more than simple swordsplay. Aiming to blend performance and fencing, Juratus would orchestrate increasingly elaborate ways to test his combat prowess. However, as the nation of Obron waned and fell, Juratus would instead busy himself with more serious matters, saving what he could in his home city of Ansulf. Nonetheless, much would be lost during the downturn of the age. With a burning and bitter heart, Juratus would vow to take vengeance upon the real cause of this tragedy: the members of the Lordly Pantheon. As a warrior of wits and blades, Juratus would kill and take the domains of the Pantheon one by one, holding immeasurable power.
With time, he and his forces would march upon the very meeting place of the Pantheon, Juratus slaughtering them as his comrades fell like dust in the wind around him. With the corpses of the slain Pantheon and his fellow Lordseekers littering the landscape, he would take the pantheon's domains, each and every one, and kill himself, freeing the world of divinity.
The bloodline of Lords and Ladies was abruptly ended that day, and the Wraith Globe fell into a time of strange silence. Few were left alive amidst the earth-shaking battles between mortal and divine. Despite this, mortal willpower would not only have the strength to rain down hell upon the Lordly Pantheon, but also the strength to survive that same hell. From the ashes of the Lordseekers sworn to their oath of vengeance would come a new generation, mortals bent to be stewards of the Wraith Globe. Freed from divinity, the world's countless lordly domains would grow wild without their masters. The void that was once where the Wraith Globe stood would begin to seep back into the world, starting from the seams of the spear that first pierced it.
In response to this degeneration of their home, the remaining mortals of the Wraith Globe would become stewards, not as Lords or Ladies but as humble observers. As the mountain and lands surounding they knew so well were consumed, the mortals would move outwards, gaining a deeper connection with the countless nooks and crannies of Artukos' creation. The mortals who had receded or been exiled, the Merfolk and the children of the Olüm, returned to their brethren, unity once more restored in the face of impending nothingness. One by one the planes of the Wraith Globe would be utterly annihilated by the void, but a few stray corners of the sixteen stars and their children would stay afloat. The reason for such protection was unknown by the mortals, but their ignorance would not stop them from caring for what they had been given.
The stewards of this age would create sails and ships to navigate the black annihilation, travelling from one pocket sanctuary to another. A deep sense of humility and respect would be gained by the coming generations as a dire yet strangely hopeful age would follow. The world would return to its natural state, all that would remain were the mortal stewards and their scattered gardens of tranquility.
