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Old 11-21-2010, 10:52 AM
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Alex Walz Alex Walz is offline
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Default I: Dagbor's Awakening

Good day lords and ladies of Mythador! Gather round, gather round. Let me tell you a story of our people, will you not?

Not too long ago, there was a great war that shook all of Mythador. The war claimed many a life, ravaged the lands from the Desolate Hills down to the Brakental Deserts, and set the stage before you as you enter this abandoned estate to begin your own adventure in this world - in the time of the "post-war" restoration. This is the story of that great war, as told from the perspectives of all who claim Mythador as their home: the men of Dagbor, men of Menthorn, men of Salicia Mas, High Elves, Wood Elves, Orcs, Goblins, Wizards, Dragons, and the Dwarves. This is your story.

It is by no means a complete chronology, but rather, each chapter, each picture, will be a story in its own right. Pay heed, as you will undoubtedly come across many of the characters and lands you hear about here. Whether you come as friend or foe, is entirely up to you.

Chapter I - The Awakening of Dagbor


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Ah yes, my lad, the land was at peace. It had been so for as long as any mortal could remember. Humans, Orcs, Elves, Dwarfs, Dragons... all had abandoned the ways of war. Even the wizards had ceased their quarrels. Teria thrived. That was the Age of Serenity, at least by Human reckoning, and truly it was a time of prosperity.

The human realm of Teria stretched large and prosperous under the guidance of the Lordship of Dagbor, which grew to be the heart of the human empire, uniting 16 other lordships under one banner. This was forged by King Adrian and passed on to King Hamilon who ruled wisely for over 30 years. As the peace grew and deepened, the warrior knights were discharged from service. They were granted estates, but alas their temperaments were not suited for this task. After much drinking and feasting, their wealth was squandered, their sons and daughters left with nothing.

So it came to pass that an impoverished young man and his trusted servant traveled to the capitol city to seek employment. Harthram, son of Estrom, son of Prestor, penniless lord of crumbling Thorndale. Seeking gainful work in a time of peace. An illusory time, a time displeasing to the Gods. An empty promise.

Along his way, he met a most curious wizard by the name of Faramor, said to be of the Order of the Wave. Harthram had the strangest feeling that he had seen him before, but he was gone as quickly as he came. What was the meaning of his words: "And wouldst thou slaughter a city to save a nation? A nation to save the world?" Or was it just a dream that his closest friend and family servant, Oswic, had woken him up from? All he knew was that it was getting late: the sun had begun to set on Southmont.

By the time they reached great Dagbor, its gates had already closed for the night. They retreated to the woods to set camp, for nobody, friend or foe, wants to be spotted by the royal patrols after hours. As they navigated the dark woods, they heard the curious moaning of an animal. They approached the source of the noise to find a curled-up orc, wounded by arrows. The orcs of Gokkholm strayed into Teria from time to time, but to see one this close to the capital? Oswic wanted to leave the orc and his abominable moaning at once, but Harthram had other plans.

They bandaged the orc, and dragged his wrapped-up body to the gate. If this wounded orc could possibly get Harthram an audience with the King, he would be able to choose whatever work he wanted in the service of Dagbor. Who the guards fetched, however, was not the King but the young Prince Erian.

In the private chambers of Erian's Tower, the prince shout out at the orc in vain, muttering something about where it had taken his father, the great King Hamilon. At that moment, Lothamir, the wizard of the royal family, ran his trembling finger tips down the orc's blood-stained arm. The markings, he had seen them before, many years ago. If his aged eyes were to trust, they were the sacred markings worn only by the Orc King. At this announcement, Erian's eyes glowed with fury. Could this plot against Dagbor reach into the highest levels of the Orc Realm?

"The King is gone and an orc has been captured at the walls of Dagbor. No man can contest these facts. My father has been taken, and I must act," the young prince exclaimed to all who were in the room, many of whom appeared shocked at the news of his father's disappearance. "The orcs are at play here. From this moment forth, we are at war!"
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Alex Walz | Former Assistant Producer & Publicist of Reverie World Studios, INC.
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"The sky grows lighter my friends. The break of day should cheer the heart. But for us, sunrise brings only bloody war. Make thou ready. Defend my people well." - Prince Erian IV, Dawn of Fantasy

Last edited by Alex Walz : 12-08-2010 at 02:12 PM.
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