The Full History

Lorccan, in the beginning, was a split into three countries; Gywenneth, Hammerstad, and the Neutral Lands. Gywenneth, the main powerhouse of the continent, was ruled by the elves who were a pacifist culture relying on the decisions of their King and Queen as well the grand council of wizards. Hammerstad remained almost entirely unknown but were ruled by Dwarves who kept to themselves in the mountains where they mined for gold and jewels. The third country, the Neutral Lands, were what separated the two civilizations from reaching one another and were governed by no one but the few lesser races that didn't want to take part in either country, as well as refugees and criminals.

The continent survived hundreds of years like this but one day an enormous black cloud tinted the skies of Ansgar with darkness. It was a tempest like no other, one that was caused by the gods rage filling the heavens. The people of Lorccan could hear Xyleth's angry cries in the thunder and feel Ucelle's magical charms in the never ending rain as the god's fought with each other. The storm lasted for an entire month, never ceasing even the slightest bit until the deities causing it split apart for good and went their separate routes.

Lorccan was never the same after this, but more specifically Gywenneth changed exponentially. It is believed that the rain was Ucelle's tears and the charms within them spread such unfathomable beauty to Gywenneth that none could look upon the kingdom and not be captivated. Even the creatures that roamed the forests showed signs on magic, and a few new species appeared that had not yet been discovered.

It was a happy time for the elves, and in order to repay their gratitude to the Goddess, they built hundreds of temples and dedicated a day of worship for Ucelle. However, it quickly grew out of hand and the people began to worship her exceedingly more than any of the other gods, including ROR, their creator. Idols went from a few to millions, and temples expanded into priesthoods and filled with prayers nearly every day. Festivals and feasts were held in her honor and the offerings became more and more fantastic.

ROR grew angry with his creations, loathing them for being more grateful to Ucelle than to him, and so to punish them for their ignorance, he made a new race whom he believed would rival that of the elves. The god made thousands of them, similar to the elves in appearance but greedier, hungrier, and violent in nature; proudly he called the war-seeking creatures, humans.

The humans grew up under the radar in the Neutral Lands, unknown to either the Dwarves or the Elves for nearly 40 years until one day the "nobles" of their race confronted the people of Gywenneth in their capital city. They offered peace and assistance in exploring the lands further east of their country in exchange for protection and trade routes; the elves, a bit baffled by the new species, accepted with gratitude and a treaty was created that day.

Shortly after that the Neutral Lands were officially conquered by the humans and renamed, Mertuil. Here they built an empire that would soon be called, Valmar.

There was another 50 years of peace between the three countries and then it happened, the generational gap at last shifted to the new age of leadership in the land of the short lived mortals. The royalty of this generation were as ROR intended: selfish, greedy, cruel, and violent. Over the years the elves had been teaching Holy Magic to their people, but the new leaders of Mertuil thought that magic should be used for more useful things and so one man in particular, the prince, prayed to Xyleth for her guidance in a new magic that would change the course of the human civilization. She answered, and so Black Magic was born in Ansgar.

Furious when they discovered the human's betrayal in seeking help from Xyleth, the Gywennethians attacked the empire despite their beliefs of peace. Valmar defended themselves but sent a squadron to Hammerstad where they confronted the reserved Dwarvan king for help. As it turned out, the Hammerstads were green with jealousy of the elves for having been so blessed by Ucelle in the Great Storm while they were left with nothing. So swords ready for the blood of revenge, the two countries pushed the Gywennethians back.

The battle lasted for fifteen long, horrible years before the Dwarves grew tired of fighting a war that wasn't their own and back down before they lost anymore casualties; leaving the mortal humans to defend themselves. By then the land of Mertuil (where the battles seemed to be the most heavy) was a desolate wasteland; every tree cut down for weapons and shelter, the ground was soaked in blood leaving wildlife unable to flourish any longer, and the absence of flora had the sun beating down on the barren fields with violent intensity. Once a mighty and beautiful empire, Valmar crumbled beneath the growing power of the elves and the humans were left with no other choice but to accept defeat and sign the treaty offered to them by their enemies.

After the war, the three countries returned to the "Fields of the Fallen" and collected the bodies of those who died fighting for what they believed in. The corpses measured up to the millions, far too many to bury, and so they were piled together and burned. The stench of death and ashes bathed Mertuil for six months, reminding them of the terrible loses they endured...but they weren't done yet.

The prince who had confided in Xyleth in the beginning, loudly proclaimed across his ruined empire that she was responsible for their defeat, for it was her magic they had used. So he charged into her kingdom in blind defiance and challenged her with forbidden magic even she refused to use, it was later called Death Magic. This nameless prince was beaten and then made an example of before all of Mertuil where he was then cursed for his blasphemy to walk Ansgar in eternal living rot.

Outrage broke out all over the grief-struck kingdom and accusations for this terrible event began to spread like wildfire over the large country. The humans turned their back on the gods and each other and the arguing happening amongst the distinguished nobleman turned into fighting and within a year the fighting turned into a civil war that lasted an entire week (due to their short supply on soldiers who weren't injured or exhausted it couldn't go any longer). Striken by grief for the loss of their son the king and queen of Mertuil quickly put an end to the battles by declaring that the empire be split into three separate countries; Mertuil, Draxia and Harrogath. The rulers themselves retreated to the smallest of the nations, Draxia, where they could live in peace and grieve for their loss.

The human empire of Valmar now gone, a fragile treaty keeps the balance in Lorccan. However, time has a funny way of distorting history and so hatred still runs deep in the veins of the continent, brewing beneath the layers of the world....