History of Nevendaar

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Ancient Lore:

Few legends were ever spoken about time before Nevendaar was created from the eternal night sea. Fewer still about the existences of the greater gods. What were spoken amongst the races of Nevendaar was that the greater pantheon of gods always existed, or were created by an older race of primordial gods, or even that they were once a race like those of men and dwarves, but they transcended their mortal constraints to rule the heavens. Whatever was said, it is clear that the minds of man, elf, and dwarf cannot encompass what it means to be a god, only that they are to raised on a gilded pedestal and worshipped, obeyed, and unquestioned.

That doesn’t mean that legends of the times before the land was land, and the seas were seas existed. The children of every race can account in harmony how Nevendaar was created, and the strife and pain that caused life to be hard and people to strain their eyes to the sky in supplication of the gods’ favors.

Those legends first speak of the Highfather, lord of the gods, and bringer of light. At his side stood the greater gods, Gallean, Solonielle, and Wotan. The four would come to represent the highest order of gods, with the lesser deities cling to one or many of their collective feet. The Highfather was the first to show the gods’ desire to create by forming the heavenly host from the strands of hair in his beard. The angels worshipped the Highfather and shed light across the heavens that swirled like streaking arrows in the wine dark sea. The angels quickly found favor with the gods, and names like Gabriel, Isabel, and Michael were anointed with power. But none found the eye of the Highfather like an angel named Bethrezen. The greater god was so pleased with his creation in Bethrezen that he gifted the angel with the power to create.

Bethrezen was humbled by the Highfather’s generosity and determined to honor him by creating the perfect world. This world Bethrezen called Nevendaar, or ‘the sacred lands’ in the angelic tongue. Seeing the world Bethrezen had created, the three greater gods also longed to aid in the creation of the world. Gallean first touched the lands with a loving caress and created the great trees and forests that populated the land with their fertile shadows and pierced the sky with shrines of silent mediation. Solonielle saw Gallean’s creation and cried for joy. Her salty tears rushed across Nevendaar filling the seas and creating rivers and lakes that dotted the landscape. Then together in a loving embrace the god and goddess joined together to create two races in their combined images. From the woods sprouted the elves, graceful and gentle to the land that harbored them. And the seas flourished with the merfolk, who dove to the depths and created temples in honor of the deities. Not to be undone, Wotan struck the earth and massive ranges of mountains tore into the sky. Towering over the rest of creation, Wotan chiseled the dwarven races out of granite and limestone, with the intent that they should rule over all of the lands. However the dwarves were content at the peak of the world and built cities on and into the mountain ranges where they lived. So to did the lesser gods create lesser races that dotted the lands with new cultures and new figures.

Seeing the other gods’ gifts to his Nevendaar, Bethrezen pulled feathers from his wings and formed the great and small birds of the lands. Then he drew the salt from his eyes and filled the seas with fish. He rubbed the skin from his hands and feet to create the beasts of earth. And from his blood he created man and gave them everything they desired in his perfect world. Content with his work he showed this Nevendaar to the angelic hosts, announcing that he would show his offering to the Highfather, a symbol of his respect. He asked that his brothers and sisters would stand guard over the offering while he fetched the Highfather. But many of the angels were jealous of what Bethrezen created. They stole to the surface of Nevendaar and spoke with mankind who were focused on the will of the gods. For the first time, mankind saw its existence for what it truly was. The dark angels to mankind of mortality. They spoke of possessions and desires, and quickly mankind fell into these traps. Greed and lust ran rampant across the lands, and mankind burned much of creation in their impulse.

As the great forest burned, the elven race rushed to the towering mountains for shelter. The dwarves feared that the madness that gripped mankind had spread to the elves, so the earthen race created swords and hammers to protect their cities. Unarmed, most of the elves were slaughtered, and their blood stained the rivers that ran down from the peaks. Gallean cried in terror at the carnage that was enacted upon his elves and demanded that Wotan punish his creations. Wotan sneered at the other god. The forest god turned to bind the dwarves into the earth and Wotan roared in anger. Transforming himself into a great wolf, Wotan attacked Gallean, tearing his heart out of the god’s chest. With divine strength Wotan hurled the beating heart into the sun where it would lie forever. Solonielle rushed to her love’s aid, braving the sun’s fury in an attempt to rescue the heart of the god. When she emerged from the torturous surface of the sun, her beauty and grace was gone, leaving only the scarred countenance full of righteous anger at the stone god. However when she placed the heart back in Gallean’s chest, it refused to beat sending Solonielle into a despair that consumed her.

When Bethrezen returned to Nevendaar with the Highfather, the elder god was furious at the destruction and death that he saw. Enraged he hurled Bethrezen into the center of his own world, condemning him to an eternity at its core, as punishment for the insult. Then the Highfather gave the people of Nevendaar law to cease the chaos and destruction. Once again peace eased over Nevendaar, and the races lived in uneasy harmony with their heart strained to feel the presence of the divine once again.

In the center of Nevendaar, Bethrezen boiled with anger that his offering was tainted and he was blamed. Fueled by hatred, Bethrezen created a new race, the race of demons. They would be his weapons to enact his retribution on the world that condemned him, on the angels that betrayed him, and the god that spurned him. His hatred twisted him in on himself, shaping his once beautiful body into a corrupt shell of chaos. Yet his patience remained, sending his spite against the world in small dosages, and biding his time until he could enact his escape from his prison and destroy all that was created.

Likewise, Solonielle’s despair consumed her. She ignored the pleas from her children and cries until her eyes drained themselves of any sign of compassion. Her own heart withered in the emptiness of her chest and she stopped calling herself Solonielle for the name Mortis. Mortis yearned to be embraced by Gallean once again, and longed for the consoling touch of oblivion. Only her seething anger at Wotan and his half-men gave her purpose. And with the patience of a goddess, she too waited for a time to enact her own vengeance.

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The Great War:

For six thousands years, peace reigned in Nevendaar. While there were conflicts between the lesser races and the three greater races on Nevendaar, these were few and met with limited resistance. The dwarven races and elves forged a silent peace accord, and the kingdoms of man flourished across the landscape. Slowly the kingdoms merged into one great empire, the Holy Empire dedicated to the worship of the Highfather. The clans of dwarves found solitude at the peaks of their mountains. The elves abided their lives in the great forests, pleading to the heavens for Gallean or Solonielle to grant them a sign that they weren’t alone. It was a time of great harvest, when death was a welcome mistress after a long life.

That doesn’t mean that Bethrezen was content in his demonic prison. He occasionally vented his wrath, burning forests from below, and ravaging farms. Occasional demons escaped the hellish lair of their dark god to reap chaos on the surface world. But despite these rare occurrences, Nevendaar knew peace.

The first sign truly dark sign of what was to come came five hundred years before the first Great War in a southern kingdom of the Empire called Alkmaar. Mortis foresaw an opportunity to reap her vengeance on the children of Wotan, and carefully began to sow her seeds of death. A foul mist enshrouded Alkmaar, filling the air with a vile plague that even the mystical people that inhabited the lands couldn’t disperse. Within days the population was all but wiped out, and the Empire determined the land was cursed, renaming it the Forests of Night. The few people that remained with a thread of life still clinging to the world before death, quickly proselytized themselves before Mortis, and began to learn her magic of unnatural death. However this land remained cloistered from the rest of the world, unbidden into the rest of Nevendaar.

It wasn’t until the age when Stummir Thunderhammer sat on the throne of the High King of the Mountain Clans, and a young prince named Demosthene was proclaimed Emperor that the dire prophecies began to emerge from messengers of the gods. In the clans, a prophet named Memnor was granted a dream by one of Wotan’s valkyries. In it Memnor heard of the approaching Ragnorok, a time where death would threaten the children of the mountain god, and attempt to extinguish life. Meanwhile the prophets of the Empire, and the oracles of the elves foretold of the rise of a fiery angel that would bring destruction in his wake. Many ignored the telling, others armed themselves for the war that was to come. Bethrezen and Mortis sought their revenge.

First came the opening of hell into Nevendaar. A abyssal pit ripped the earth apart and spilled forth with Bethrezen’s demonic host, intent on creating an egress for their dark god to escape his damned cell. They quickly rushed into the cities, bringing fire and brimstone as they came. All while using their dark magic to possess the Queen and wife of Demosthene into freely giving herself to the legions.

Taking advantage of the Empire’s internal concerns, Mortis launched her own assault on the tribes of the dwarven people. Raising the dead Alkmaar from their restless graves, she sent the shambling undead at the Clans with quenchless lust for dwarven blood. Lead by the necromancer Hela, the undead stormed the fortresses of the High King, and slaughtered him, raising his corpse up as a sacrifice to the dark goddess.

Stunned at the events, the Mountain Clans faltered for a moment, before they drove back towards the Undead Hordes with cries of valor. Lead by a warrior named Morok Cloudkeeper, and flanked by valkyries, the Clans surged back into the undead, tearing through their unnatural limbs with the ferocity of their battle axes and berserk rage at the dishonor done to their king. They pursued Hela into her own lair where they recovered their stone Rune of Wisdom and sealed the necromancer’s spirit in stone.

In the Empire, lead by the Imperial paladins, man renewed their desperate plight against the Legions, forcing them back to the rent in the earth. Powerful white wizards sealed the opening while knights on valiant chargers dispatched any demons they found. However the victory was tainted. The wife of the Emperor lay slain, having succumbed to Bethrezen’s powers, and the infant son of Demosthene had vanished. Worse still were the dark prophecies that Ragnorok had but just begun, and Bethrezen’s armies would return. Licking their wounds and readying themselves for what was to come, the three races of Nevendaar returned home to be with their husbands and wives, in wait for the days of the dark prophecy.

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The Dark Prophecy:

Ten years past after the Great War, and the three races of Nevendaar licked their wounds. The once great Mountain Clans were in shambles after the assault of the undead while fear of the still approaching Ragnorok haunted their dreams. Only the newly crowned High King Morok Cloudkeeper maintained his optimism that the dwarven races would emerge victorious. The Empire was hardly in better shape. Emperor Demosthene had collapsed in on himself over the death of his wife and his missing heir. Ruthless robber barons snatched up land and enslaved the people with the Imperial order was focused on itself. And the glorious elves sat in their forests, lamenting the vision of the monstrosity their once beautiful goddess had become. To make matters worse, prophecy abounded that worsening days were behind the horizon, threatening to engulf Nevendaar in the grasp of chaos and death. Only one prophecy offered a glimmer of hope, Bethrezen was dying.

In order to free his minions onto the surface world, Bethrezen sacrificed too much of his own power to break even that small of a seal into Nevendaar. But he was prepared in the child Uther. The missing son of Demosthene was to be the new host for Bethrezen’s spirit and power. Gifted with the budding powers of a god, Uther emerged into Wotan’s Spine and was led to the Empire’s lands by dwarves. Uther’s presence sparked life into the Emperor and the Holy Empire. Flanked by the young prince who could hold his own against even the most powerful of knights and mages, the Empire quickly reestablished itself within its verdant borders, crushing upstarts like Baron de Lalye. The Highfather seemed to be shining down on the kingdom of man once again. However it was not the eyes of benevolence that watched Uther. Other deities had invested their attention on the boy, and watched his progress with rapt interest.

Meanwhile, the Clans were attempting to deal with issues within the scope of their cliffs and spires. Their newly appointed High King was dealing with the death of his son in a different, and even more frightening manner. Using one of the Runes of Wisdom, Morok attempted to resurrect the corpse of Gymner, his son. The effort transformed Morok into a lunatic who began to attack his own clan. After a bloody battle, the body of Morok was placed beside Gymner’s in a funeral pyre. Reeling from the blow of a second dead king, the Clans placed Morok’s daughter, Yataa’Halli as the new regent.

However it was during this time that the Legions and Hordes began to emerge again. Demons began to plague the Devil Mountains and the Undead Hordes awoke from their graves to march towards the elven cities. Prophecy began to come true as the an elf named Lyf forsake the elven beliefs to embrace the goddess Mortis. For the first time, the elven people rallied under one banner to address the undead threat, with the aid of the Empire. Lyf was destroyed, but not before he marred the ground with the blood of those he slaughtered.

To the north, Queen Yataa’Halli determined to reunite the scattered clans and with them, the twelve Runes of Wisdom. Reclaiming the lost city of Greyhelm as her capitol and directed by valkyries, Yataa’Halli and the dwarven Loremasters began to seek a way to avert the coming Ragnorok. However despite their best efforts, a dark mage named Huggin managed to release the great wyrm, Niddhog into the world threatening to devour all of the dwarven clans.

In the Empire, Uther was to be crowned as the next Emperor, as was the custom by the current reigning sovereign. However the young prince had other goals. Instead he slaughtered Demosthene and revealed himself as touched by the soul of Bethrezen, and master of the dying god’s powers. Flanked by demons, Uther began to make his way to claim his throne in Hell when the agents of the Empire and the Legions still loyal to Bethrezen clashed with Uther’s demonic army.

The elves also faced fiercer opposition from the undead waves that clogged their forests with their rotting corpses. The elves were slowly pushed back into their sacred cities that had never before faced invasion. Mortis’ desire to reclaim the land Gallean granted their children drove her to atrocities that shattered the spirits of the elven brotherhood. With the backs to their capitol, led by their Queen Taladrielle, the elves readied for the final assault of the hordes.

Facing disaster on all sides, the three races fought valiantly to save Nevendaar from destruction. The dwarves rallied around Yataa’Halli, and the dwarven queen blessed with Wotan’s might, struck the killing blow against the great wyrm, felling it and the ebb of Ragnorok to the confines of runic lore. Uther, faced by the combined might of the Empire and the Legions of Bethrezen faltered in his surge to claim Hell. It was the Baron Emry that killed the abomination of the half-god. With their champion killed, and Bethrezen’s power returning to the dark god, the Legions returned to his prison where he raged in unbridled anger against his fetters. Weary and beleaguered the Empire turned from the field of battle to their homes and the rise of new problems within the Holy Empire. No one stayed to witness a ghastly shade emerge to scoop up the spilt blood of the divine Uther, and fly back to its mistresses waiting hand.

The throng of the Hordes was too much for the elven protectors and Queen Taladrielle was slain. Fleeing for their lives, Mortis reclaimed the elven lands and started her own sacrifice. Spilling the recovered blood of Uther on the divine elven lands, Mortis resurrected her love Gallean. However as the forest god opened his eyes, he did not see the goddess he loved. Instead he saw a monstrosity, with no resemblance to the goddess Solonielle. With one word the forest god crushed the undead that littered his lands, then turned his back on Mortis who screamed in pain at his rejection. The elven lands were awash with rejoice and sorrow at the return of their god, and the death of their queen. There was much to rebuild across Nevendaar. And far more that dark minds sought to crush.

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The Rise of the Elves:

Embittered by her rejection at the hands of her former lover, Mortis welled with spite at Gallean and the elves. Sending out dark tendrils to influence other races in her plot, Mortis began to weave a web that if enacted would scar Gallean and the elves with marks of her vengeance for eternity.

Meanwhile, the race of men struggled with reuniting the Empire after the death of Demosthene and Uther. Three figures emerged from the patchwork. Baron Emry, a figure that had risen from the ranks of nobles to be considered a saint by many after his defeat of Uther was favored among the people, however the Duchess Ambrielle had the backing of the aristocracy with her network of spies, and Count Flamel Crowly who had emerged as a religious fanatic, bent on controlling the masses through threats of eternal damnation.

The Clans gained word from a spirit wolf, that their god Wotan wished to speak with them, and instructed them on the runic magic that would open a portal to the realm of the gods. Excited about the prospect of speaking with their deity, the dwarves began to train new Loremasters to recover the ranks that were decimated during the Ragnorok, all while a grand celebration was planned.

Stewing in his pit, Bethrezen’s informants revealed to him the location of the elves’ mana well within a sacred triad of cities. The well could give Bethrezen an opportunity to spill forth his foul realm into the lands of Nevendaar, corrupting it forever. But the newly energized elves stood watch over their cities with powerful wards and warriors bent on its protection. What was more, a pending alliance between the elves and Baron Emry threatened his plans that would strengthen the defenses against him to a point where the Legions could not hope to emerge victorious. Bethrezen turned to his agent, Count Crowly, directing him to lay a claim for the crown. Crowly, eager for power, started a civil war with the hopes of decimating Baron Emry and Duchess Ambrielle with the combined forces of the Legion and his fanatic inquisitors.

At the same time, Crowly’s forces attacked the first of the elven triad where Gallean’s Avatar, Lachla’an resided. The Avatar fought valiantly to protect the city, but fell under the combined strength of Crowly’s soldiers and the demons from Hell. However when the Count turned his attention to the remaining free lands of the Empire, he faced an alliance between Emry and Ambrielle. With the combined might of Emry’s paladins and Ambrielle’s assassins, Crowley insurrection was crushed and he was killed by his own inquisitors for being a heretic.

However the ploy to distract the Empire worked and Bethrezen’s armies attacked the remaining two sacred cities, slaughtering the elves that attempted to protect it. In victory, the Legions celebrated their fortune in horrific manner that resulted in more deaths than the fighting to take the cities themselves. With the mana well captured, brimstone surged into the air, scorching the forests of the elves and marring the land forever. However Bethrezen was far from happy. The intelligence he had received proved less beneficial to his goals than he thought. The well spouted its fire, but its progress was slow and Bethrezen was forced to wait for the lands to burn in his effigy.

In the Spine, the Clans were prepared for their ritual, and as the Loremasters enacted the magic to open the rift so as to speak with their god, the last piece of Mortis’ plan fell into place. Lead by Lachala’an, reborn as a dreaded dark elf, the undead surged into the celebration forcing the dwarven races to retreat from their newly opened rift. Corrupted with contempt for Gallean and the elves, Lachla’an attacked the Gallean through the rift. Spurred by the destruction of three of his sacred cities, the foul taint that his mana well poured into Nevendaar, the deaths of countless elves, and the final insult of the dark elf, Gallean flew into a reckless rage. Emerging from the rift, Gallean transformed into a feral beast, tearing through the dark elf and the relentless hordes like dried parchment. The behemoth surged into the other lands, killing indiscriminately. It was nature’s wrath incarnate, and all of the races fled in terror at the deranged god. When the carnage was complete, Mortis emerged laughing at the monster Gallean had become. Horrified at his lack of restraint and the blood staining his hands, Gallean fled back through the rift, mocked by Mortis’ foul grin.

The elves retreated deep into their forests and began to change. One group of elves, led by their new queen Illumielle began to rebuild their cities into shining palaces fit for their graceful race. Donning glimmering armor and chanting spells of power, these noble elves thought to turn to the Empire for guidance and an alliance. However in the recesses of the forest another group of elves calling themselves the wild elves forged their own identity, one that embraced the ferocity and savageness of nature.

It was from the quiet voice of an oracle named Millu that begins to once again speak the will of Gallean to the elves. Her voice cracked at the god’s strange two-sided nature. She cried out to the leader of the wild elves, a bandit lord named Tora’ach, directing him to attack an Imperial settlement. With savage fury, the elves and centaurs tore through the town, and raze it to the ground.

Queen Illumielle was stunned at the destruction and ferocity exhibited by the new faction. To address what at first the noble elves saw as heresy, they sent wardens to arrest Millu, but Tora’ach spirited her away. Agreeing to an unarmed meeting, Tora’ach and Illumielle meet to discuss the oracle’s fate, when Millu received another prophecy from the god. Seeing the reflection of Gallean in her eyes, the elves ally under her decree, to wage war against the Empire. Disturbed by the news, Illumielle led the new Alliance against Imperial cities, all while frightened by the image of the god in the oracles eyes. Two sides, one shape glimmering in light, the other obscured by darkness.

Led by the newly crowned King Emry, the Empire turned to the Clans for aid. The dwarves hearing the pleas of the Empire turned from their cities and joined in a counter offensive that struck a deep blow against the Alliance, killing Tora’ach. However fueled by Millu, the elves galvanized their defenses and turned back the combined assaults of the two races. Led by a young general named Serphis, the elves attacked the dwarven cities directly. The terrible rage of the elves took the dwarves by surprise and the city that Queen Yataa’Halli was sacked, and the queen was slain. Stunned at the death of their queen the Clans retreated, and the elves turned their attention to the Empire.

Mustering forces that rivaled the Empire’s, the elves launched an invasion against the capitol city of Temperance. King Emry, aided by a master engineer of the dwarves, Gumtik Bledwater, stalled the attack for three months before General Serphis managed to breach the walls of the Imperial city. Fearing for the lives of his people, King Emry signaled a full retreat, fighting the approach of the elves with desperation as they fled. Temperance fell, and Illumielle declared the city as the new Alliance capitol. But there was little celebration. The elves were confused by the turn of events and the changing will of their once peaceful god. They rebuilt the city to best fit the elves, as Millu struggled to make sense the will of their god.

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The Founding of the Silver City:

Four hundred years before the first Great War was a time of peace and prosperity for the three greater races. However this doesn’t mean that hardship wasn’t felt in the lands. One such legend of turmoil emerged with the creation of a race called the water elves, or sprites. As with most legends, many see it as a quant tale of love tested and lost. Few know the truth behind the tales and its implications for a race of peoples.

The legend speaks of two individuals, Glaucus, an elf, and Scylla of the merfolk. Glaucus was a simple wander, a man who was bound by the earth and the forest. However one day he stumbled on a mermaid who had been caught by goblin net and pulled deep inland. A small group of goblins were busily arguing how to enjoy their spoils, some wanting the beautiful maid to themselves, while more lascivious beastlings wanted to see what mermaid tasted like, elf or fish. Seeing a daughter of Solonielle on the need of aid and disgusted at the sight of the slavoring goblins, Glaucus attacked the goblins, killing some and driving off the rest.

The mermaid was more that grateful for her rescue and introduced herself as Scylla. As with many such exciting introductions the elf and the mermaid quickly became entranced in each other, drawn in by each other’s differences and the emotions began to spill forth. However as with most tragic legends, elven and mere law at the time forbade intermarriage with other races. So the two stole away from their lives to engage in a hidden love, desperate for each others attention and respite from their illegal affection. In time both races became aware of the two lover’s transgressions and the two were cursed for their perceived evils. The elven Queen Circielle called upon the will of Gallean and legend says that she transformed Scylla into a foul monster with an insatiable hunger that devoured Glaucus. Horror struck by what she had done, Scylla turned to the merfolk for aid and was cut down by the Atlantean guard.

It is a legend that is told to account for the perils of forbidden love and the pitfalls of turning away from race and family, however as is the case with most legends, it is based on half truths. The story of Glaucus and Scylla’s meeting is true, however bound by love they were, they also contained a spark of life that belittled their races’ desires to quell their forbidden affair. Wishing to find sanctuary from the harsh edicts of the elven and mere people, the two turned for divine guidance, first asking for Gallean and Solonielle’s intervention on their behalf, hoping that the divine lovers would step in for the assistance of true emotion. However the two deities remained silent to Glaucus and Scylla’s pleas. Disheartened the two turned to lesser gods. They prayed to Nereus, the god of the seas, a prophet god who could change the waves to rage against the shore. They prayed to Nethuns, the god of running water, who gave swift movement to those he aided and was adept at hiding his resources. And they prayed to Atargatis, the goddess of the sea creatures and giver of fertility and fierce strength, the singer in the wind. In congress the three deities heard the lover’s plight and chose to aid them in their need. Together the gods concocted a plan to protect the two from their respective races.

It was Nereus who first changed Scylla into the form of a sea trow, a creature that was part troll part water dragon. Meanwhile Nethuns spirited away Glaucus so that all would perceive him dead. When Scylla turned to face Atlantis, it was Atargatis that gave her the strength to withstand their assault and revive after the merfolk believed her dead. With the elves and merfolk convinced of their deaths, Glaucus and Scylla were again returned to each other to be anointed by their love. In unison the three gods gifted the two with their own tributes to aid in their new lives. First Nereus changed the two lovers, joining them in one form. That of the water elves, able to find purchase on both the land and the sea. Nethuns gifted them with swift magic that allowed them to avoid detection and charm those that would seek to destroy their bond. And Atargatis gifted them with silver armor, shields, and tridents to fight off assaults and beautiful voices that could beguile and deceive. Finally, as a tribute to their love, the gods raised up the Silver Isle to house them, partially protected from the sea, partially protected from the land.

Being united together as their own race, Glaucus and Scylla never forgot what the deities had done for them. They began the race of sprites on the protection of the Silver Isle and founded the Silver City. The water elves continued to raise up the three divine figures as their gods and their peoples flourished under their protection. They founded an army centered around the protection of their people, schools for the study of magic and science, and a steadfast faith on the will of their watchful deities. Though Glaucus and Scylla died long ago from the ills of old age, their descendants flourish and have begun to expand past their city borders. They cannot challenge the mights of Nevendaar, but they can begin their existence in less anonymity, confident in their own strength of will.

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The Greenskins and the Birth of the Commonwealth

The history of the greenskins is fuzzy at best. They were said to be the creation of the beast god Gromdok, along with the beasts of the field and forests. The god supposedly granted the greenskins many gifts, more than any other beasts, to protect themselves against the will and hand of the great races. Of the greenskin tribes, there were eight species, the greenskin orcs, the blackskin orcs, the grayskin orcs, the trolls, the ogres, the goblins, the kobolds, and the gremlins. However each species fragmented, seeking to rule over the others. They formed tribes and spread across the Barrens and Nevendaar in loose feral clusters. At one point an Imperial scribe estimated that there were over ninety tribes across the landscape, and all would turn on humans, dwarves, and elves as easily as their own kind in brutal, beastlike ferocity.

The Commonwealth is one of the few organized tribes of greenskins that call the Barrens home. At the end of the First Great War, the chief of the Grodah clan, Groetuk, saw the devastation that had spread across Nevendaar like a plague and also saw that many greenskin tribes were destroyed. Fearing that their nomadic and independent ways put his tribe in jeopardy, Groetuk began to build a city to protect his tribe at a large oasis in the sparse savannah. Gathering his tribe around him, the small city flourished and the tribe began to pray to their god Gromdok for guidance and protection. As if hearing their cries other tribes began to seek refuge from the tenuous existence on the plains. The troll tribe of Klu'tha, the blackskin tribe of Gorhik, the goblin tribe of Yi, the kobold tribe of Rii So, and the elusive gremlins all sought to call this new sanctuary home. Groetuk welcomed them and called the newly formed alliance of greenskins the Commonwealth.

When the second Great War began, a goblin shaman named Toi was granted a vision. He rushed to Groetuk and told him that he saw a great battlefield littered with the bodies of the five great races. And in the center of the battlefield raged the will of two gods in the form of one elf. The elf struggled against the twine of life and death, the will of one against the blessings of another. And in the flash of an eye, life raged out onto the land in the form of a massive beast that tore through the lands in a rampage. The shaman Toi proclaimed that this must be the child of Gromdok, given as a sign that the greenskin races were to rise up past their primitive natures to rule a portion of the land.

Groetuk was skeptical, not one for seeking power or glory, but if the shaman did see this prophecy then he was determined to see the will of their god done. So he sent spies out into the land to find the battlefield where the beast was to emerge. They watched the turmoil of the Empire and the struggles of the Clan. They watched the Legions spew across the land and the rebirth of Bethrezen, but there was no appearance of their beast god. Not until the Undead claimed the elf Lachla'an and began their assault into the lands of the Clans did the Commonwealth send for Groetuk and Toi. They watched in aghast horror as the god Gallean emerged from the rift to transform into their beast god, Gromdok.

Toi was overjoyed and rushed to embrace their god only to be felled in the beast's fury. Groetuk watched the god decimate much of the lands before the deity recoiled in horror and retreated to the realm of the gods. Stunned by what had transpired, Groetuk returned to the Sanctuary to ponder. While he thought, word of the elves fierce attacks on the Empire and the Clans reached his ears. Mutterings that they were as feral and wild as the fiercest greenskin sparked his attention. Was it possible that their beast god still wished to emerge, to celebrate the wilderness and the heart of the beast? Groetuk eyed the still scattered tribes that remained adrift in the Barrens. If Gromdok were to embrace his creation, then Groetuk could unite the greenskins, all of the tribes, and protect them from the whims of the greater nations. To do so, he would need to claim the only prophet that received Gallean and Gromdok's words, the oracle Millu. But to mount an attack against the Alliance would be suicide for the Commonwealth. They would need aid, and the only avenue he could see was that of the weaken Holy Empire of Man. But would the Empire agree to an alliance? For many generations the Empire saw the greenskins as pests and monsters. Could they see past their distain for the orcs and goblins to try to claim Millu and strike a blow against the elves? Groetuk couldn't say, he would tread carefully, protect his people and make steps towards receiving the will of the beast.

[Blitz]

The Judges:

Before Nevendaar was created by the then angel Bethrezen, there was no need for laws. The divine factions all treated each other with dignity and respect, having nothing dividing their attention. However that all changed when mankind turned upon the created world with their own greed, lust, and anger. Quickly the lands of Nevendaar and the divine creators fell into disarray. After the Highfather punished Bethrezen for the perceived insult, the divine king quickly assessed that law needed to be established across the lands. Without law and order the infernal chaos would only destroy everything that was created.

In his wisdom, the Highfather decided that only the gods could truly define justice and selected five lesser gods and goddesses to be what he called the Judges. These Judges were to hold sway over the courts in heaven as well as the final court for all mortals. They would either defend or condemn god, goddess, and mortal souls to a swift demise into the eternal void, or grant them grace.

The Highfather carefully selected four divine figures, Ra, Thoth, Bast, and Anubis to be the first of the Judges. These Judges each held sway over the weight of person; be it their strength of body, their clarity of wisdom, their conviction of heart, or their depth of soul. These four would then debate the worth of the life of the mortal being judged in their death, as to the ultimate reward of their life.

Then the Highfather selected on Judge to rule over all, and named Ma’at. The goddess of justice would listen to the arguments of the other Judges, and sentence the soul to bask in the joy of heaven, or to be devoured by an ammit, forever lost to eternity. However while the Highfather watched, the Judges did not first turn their attention to the chaos that roiled across Nevendaar, nor did then turn to the conflict that had spurned between Wotan and Gallean. They even ignored Bethrezen whom the Highfather imprisoned in hell. Instead they focused on the great divinity himself, seeking to judge him for his actions regarding the imprisonment of the once angel.

Stunned and offended that they would seek to proclaim a judgment on him, the Highfather proclaimed that he was beyond accusation. The Judges sadly shook their collective heads, stating if justice did not apply to the ruler of creation, they could not impose it on the rest of the world. Without another word, the five vanished from the heavens. The Judges disappearance weighed on the Highfather, and he recognized that there was truth in their words. He declared laws across the heavens and Nevendaar, laws that he swore to abide and hold all accountable. However the Judges never returned to his side to take their places as defense and jury.

Quickly the five vanished deities were forgotten by the likes of man, dwarf, and elf. Naught was said of their names for several centuries until five hundred years before the first Great War when a group of people abandoned the Holy Empire because they feared religious persecution. Wanting to worship more gods than just the Highfather, they fled West, across the expanse of the Barrens, seeking a place that they could worship as they pleased. They trudged past the tribes of greenskins and found themselves deep in the Umari Desert that lies like a sprawling canvas, clean of marks or distinction. There they found the Garuda. A race of birdmen that called the vast expanse of the desert home, the Garuda still worshipped the lesser god that created them; Ra.

The Imperial refugees quickly absorbed the stories of the Judges, who had segmented themselves away in a place called the Hall of Two Truths. They embraced the Judges’ divine justice and the grace granted to those who have died. Welcomed by the Garuda, the humans joined with them in their golden city, Helios and slowly grew a dynasty, finding themselves new disciples of the balance of life and death, under the protection of the Sun.