Part 12: The Forgotten Lands
The four heroes begin looking for Mazzarin's Crypt
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Narrator posted:
October 4th, 1433 A.E., In the southernmost tip of Forest Heart
Myrdred's plan was an improbable one: finding the most powerful Archmage to ever live and coerce him to join their forces. Improbable if not desperate.
After a week of researching dozens of musty tomes, all claiming to be records of Mazzarin's life, Myrdred narrowed his search to one fascinating book. Myrdred was assured that it was genuine. On the last page in its leather bound volume was a short scribbled passage:
"I shall go to a place where life is old and the world is as it was in the beginning."
Only one place in all of the known world fit that description: The Forest Heart. The trees of Forest Heart have stood as they have since the world was created, or so the legends claim. The Forest Giants have made their home there for many millennia. Many civilizations, both human and other, have been born, aged, and ruined upon its tree covered lands.
The four heroes left Llancarfan, traveling across the autumn colored groves of the Downs, and into the desolate passes of the south-country. Within a few weeks, they came to the towering edges of the Forest Heart.
A damp shadow-embraced land grew beneath the colossal arbors. Many weeks passed, as the champions searched the dense forest for any signs of Mazzarin's whereabouts.
In the nights, Myrdred studied the tomes he carried with him, searching for any possible clue to aid them. Damas and Ravanna's constant quarreling became more playful, and Connacht spent most of his time hunting game and scouting the dense wilderness before them.
As despair of ever finding the Archmage began to settle in their minds, they entered a dark and ominous copse of trees. Crumbling ruins, all but completely enveloped in grass and foliage, jutted from the shadows beneath the arbors. They approached cautiously.
quote:
The Age of Reason
Unhindered by the destructive force of the Leveler, mankind began to prosper. Thoughts of charity and education had usurped the violent instincts of the past. A great warlord named Clovis of the Bruig strove to unite the many kingdoms of the realm. His successful campaign brought about the Empire of the Cath Bruig, the strongest and most prosperous civilization in the history of Myth.
The Cath Bruig forged alliances with many other races, sharing knowledge and trading goods. The Dwarves of Myrgard became close compatriots to the humans. Even the reclusive Skrael of the mighty city of Yer-Ks extended their scaled hands in friendship.
In this time, Mazzarin, the most powerful of human Archmages, dreamed of forming a college of magics; where practitioners of the arcane could come together and share their mystical knowledge. And so, the great citidel of Illuan was constructed for that very purpose. Sorcerers, Dreamers, Summoners, and Diabolists from across the known world came to teach and learn from their peers. Their combined knowledge rivaled even the Callieach in portent. The most learned of Archmages were dubbed "Avatara."
As the Trow continued to expand their empire, they unrelentingly harvested trees for their great iron forges. This brought them into conflict once again as they devastated the forest homeland of the fir'Bolg. The nature loving fir'Bolg mounted a defense, but they stood no chance against the unstoppable Trow. Slowly, they fled into the west, seeking a new forest to call home. This led them into the downs, a vast wild area of the Cath Bruig Empire. It is unknown how it started, but a battle between the outcast fir'Bolg and the fearful men of the Downs was waged. The Cath Bruig sent their armies to weed out the invading fir'Bolg from the forests, and the ensuing campaign took many years and yielded nothing but suffering for both sides. The fir'Bolg were finally chased out of the Downs, crossing the Cloudspine, and eventually settling in the Ermine, far from humanity and Trow alike. The Empire had gained considerable respect for their enemy in the conflict, and though they were saddened at the atrocities committed by both sides, they did adapt the use of archery for their forces.
The Avatara eventually opened their school to anyone seeking knowledge of the magical arts. A sorceress of great skill joined their ranks. Her name was Moytirra, and her fevered studies and lust for power was noted and even feared by her peers. After many years of training, she was initiated into the order of the Avatara. It was then that her dark desires were uncovered by Mazzarin. Moytirra and many followers were conducting sinister rituals in the pursuit of power. They called upon the Dark Gods using methods utterly forbidden by the enclave. Mazzarin confronted her about her unholy work. She defended her actions with zealous fervor, believing that power must be gained at any cost - even one's soul. A sorcerous duel erupted between the two Archmages. As the flames died down, Mazzarin was the victor. He bid Moytirra to end her pursuit in the black arts or leave the Avatara. She cursed his name and left the citadel, taking many followers with her. As the years passed, Moytirra created her own sorcerous school - the Order of Scholomance.
Centuries later, the knowledge amassed by the Avatara had disseminated into common society. Even the smallest village had a wizard professing some knowledge in the arcane. Bahl'al and his necromantic powers had come into conflict with the Cath Bruig and the Avatara many times. As he and his undead hordes were defeated, he would seemingly disappear for decades, only to appear again with an army of corpses twice as strong as before. The Avatara were the first to give him the name "The Watcher."
These horrific battles against undead armies had finally taken its toll on the common man. A band of nobles began speaking out on the evils of magic. They believed that all powers beyond sight stemmed from foul sources - that those who practiced in magery were a danger to the empire.
The Great Cleansing had begun. Anyone practicing sorcery was exiled, put to the torch, or worse. Necromancers were targeted above all others, and the knowledge of many healing and life-giving spells died with them. The Cleansers became fanatical, attacking even the Avatara in Illuan. It took many years and public decrees to quell the Great Cleansing, but in the end, magic wielders became a rare thing indeed.
And after a thousand years, the Comet once again flared in the Eastern sky, and an ancient enemy began to stir once again.
The Leveler had returned. With its insidious power, it breathed horrid life into the body of Tireces, using his long dead foe as the herald of the doom he would bring. Calling himself Moagim, the Leveler used Tireces vast knowledge to begin planning the downfall of humanity.
Even the Avatara who knew of the coming of the Leveler were not prepared for the fury of his onslaught. Vast legions of the dead assaulted the empire as dark magics trembled the earth. Moagim commanded his armies with mastery - using black-hearted tactics and savagery.
The epic battle raged on for years. Moagim's armies swelled with the corpses of the vanquished. Yet, with the focused might of the Cath Bruig armies, Moagim began to lose footing. As the war raged, Moagim saw that his remaining days were few. Refusing to admit defeat, the Leveler devised a plan to avenge his unavoidable death.
With terrible magics, Moagim created a doorway into a distant world of nightmares. There he found creatures lurking within the black depths that gave even him a tinge of fear. With bloody force he held their attentions and beckoned them into his world...
Soon after this dark ritual, Moagim was indeed captured by the Avatara; his forces utterly smashed by the imperial soldiers. Moagim was dragged before the citadel at Illuan, and drawn and quartered. Before his body was torn asunder, he laughed at the assembled Avatara, knowing that even in his death, vengeance was his.
The victory over Moagim was short lived. Tales began to spread of horrific beasts who attacked under the cover of night. Soon these tales became far too real. The Myrkridia were loose in the world. Their numbers seemed limitless, and their appetites unending. The Myrkridia tore the nations of man apart within mere years. The Age of Reason had ended, and civilization became as dust upon the wind.