The Shattered Lands

A Preservation of the History of Norrath, from the Nameless to the Age of Destiny Set in order by Mordven Nocturnis, Lorekeeper of the Veil

What follows is not the history of any one soul, but the history that holds all souls. I have gathered it, weighed its certainties against its rumors, and set it down as faithfully as the broken record allows. Where the tale speaks plainly, I have let it speak. Where it can only guess, I have let it guess honestly, for a history that hides its own doubt is not history but decree.

Long ago, the realms now called the Shattered Lands were joined as one vast and beautiful continent named Antonica. In the present age only the name survives, given in mourning to the hills beyond Qeynos and to the greater land that once was and is no more.

In those elder days, Antonica and the other mighty lands of Norrath were home to bold adventurers, wise kings, greedy warlords, cunning thieves, scheming sorcerers, and creatures both fierce and terrible. Heroes delved into ancient dungeons and secret caverns. Armies clashed beneath banners of pride and conquest. Great magics were awakened and loosed upon the world. It was said that any soul brave enough to master the sword, command the arcane, or truly serve the will of the gods might win power, fame, and fortune beyond measure, and that if such ambition ended instead in the jaws of some beast, fiend, or nameless horror, then so be it. This was an age of heroes, when legends walked openly upon the land.

Yet the pride of mortals outgrew their wisdom. In time they reached too far and trespassed upon the realms of the gods themselves. The cataclysms that followed shattered the face of Norrath, broke its mighty lands into splinters, and plunged the world into an age of death, ruin, and destruction not seen for countless generations.

Still, the gods had misjudged the endurance of mortal kind. In the wake of devastation, life returned to Norrath, cautiously and amid the scars of ruin. Antonica, the great continent of old, was gone. In its place lay the Shattered Lands, scattered isles, wild frontiers, broken coastlines, and untamed places where only a few bastions of civilization endured. Among them stood the great human cities of Qeynos and Freeport, survivors of calamity and beacons around which mortal civilization began, slowly and stubbornly, to rise again.

Here, then, is the tale of a world that was and of the world that remains. Shattered these lands may be, yet the broken pieces of old Antonica stir with danger, mystery, and renewed promise. The adventurers of old are returning, and the roads of Norrath quicken once more beneath the weight of destiny.

It is again a time for heroes.

Before the Cataclysm

Before time itself was measured, there existed only the force known as the Nameless, an infinite and unimaginable power moving within the emptiness of the void. From that first mystery came creation. Worlds were shaped, planes were set into being, and the vast cosmos awakened, filled with gleaming suns and countless realms turning in the dark.

To bring order to this new creation, the Nameless formed the four eldest gods: Xegony, Queen of Air; Fennin Ro, Lord of Fire; Tarew Marr, Master of Water; and Rathe, God of Earth. These mighty beings gave substance, balance, and structure to the worlds, shaping creation through the primal forces entrusted to them. In time they brought forth other divine powers to aid in the ordering and guardianship of the many worlds the Nameless had made. Thus was the cosmos given form, purpose, and watchful eyes beyond mortal understanding.

The Age of Scale

The first of the younger divine beings to turn her gaze upon Norrath was Veeshan, the Crystalline Dragon and ruler of the Plane of Sky. She looked upon the young world and found it rich, green, and well suited to her purpose. Casting her vast shadow across its surface, she descended and struck Norrath with her talons, claiming the place of her first touch as her own. Her claws tore across the land that would one day be called Velious, carving the great wound later named the Cobalt Scar. There the Wurmqueen set her brood upon the fledgling world, and for an age beyond mortal reckoning dragonkind ruled the lands beneath her mark.

It is said the mighty Age of Scale ended in blood, when the great realm of dragons turned upon itself and was broken by internal war. The conflict began with the forbidden union of two dragons of differing breeds, whose offspring was a terrible and wondrous being, the prismatic dragon Kerafyrm. His birth had long been foretold as the Awakening of the Sleeper, an event so momentous that later ages would measure themselves from its shadow.

Kerafyrm possessed power approaching the divine, and some tales claim he rivaled even Veeshan herself. The war born from his existence brought ruin upon dragonkind, and hundreds of true dragons perished in the struggle. Yet for all their wrath and might, they could not destroy him. In the end Kerafyrm was bound in deep enchanted slumber and imprisoned beneath eternal watch, guarded by warders set to keep the Sleeper from waking. For centuries thereafter he remained perhaps the single most powerful being upon Norrath, though knowledge of him faded slowly from record into rumor, and from rumor into myth.

In the aftermath, Veeshan decreed two laws upon her children: dragons of differing breeds would never again mate, and dragon would never again slay dragon. From the ruin and reckoning that followed arose the Claws of Veeshan, who became rulers and guardians of dragonkind. Yet not all submitted. Some rejected her decrees and turned from the authority of the Claws, forming a renegade faction called the Ring of Scale beneath the leadership of the ancient dragon Jaled Dar. Among those associated with this defiant order were several infamous wyrms whose names would echo through the ages, including Trakanon, Phara Dar, Lord Nagafen, and Lady Vox.

The Elder Age

Veeshan proved to be only the first deity to look upon the verdant world. Brell Serilis, Duke of the Below, beheld the Wurmqueen's handiwork and began schemes of his own within the Plane of Underfoot. In secret he shaped a gateway from his realm into a great chasm hidden deep within Norrath's belly, and through that mystical passage he sent many creatures into the twisting tunnels and shadowed ways of the underworld. When his work was done, the Duke sealed the entrance to his plane within a labyrinthine chamber of living stone.

Thereafter Brell gathered several of the foremost gods and revealed to them both Norrath and what Veeshan had already wrought upon it. With words well suited to the King of Thieves, he proposed a pact among Tunare, Prexus, Rallos Zek, and himself. Together they would decide the fate of the young world, dividing its lands among them, and each deity would create races to watch over chosen territories and hold the Wurmqueen's children in check.

All agreed, save Rallos Zek. The Warlord would bind himself to no alliance, for trust was not a thing he granted easily. Yet even in defiance, he would not leave Norrath unclaimed.

Brell Serilis created the dwarves, stout of body and strong of will, and placed them within the mountains and the cavernous depths beneath. Upon the surface, amid the wild and beautiful forests, Tunare brought forth the elves as an expression of her eternal grace. In the waters, Prexus created the kedge, an aquatic people gifted with great mental strength and endurance. Last came Rallos Zek, who fashioned not one race but two, the giants and the goblins.

As a whole these elder races fulfilled the purpose for which they were made. They opposed the dragons, helped subdue the world, and brought an end to the unchecked dominion of dragonkind. The kedge, elves, and dwarves stood as allies in those ancient struggles, while the giants and goblins fought according to their own desires, seeking glory for themselves rather than fellowship with the others. Even so, the chief aim was accomplished, and dragonkind no longer held Norrath without challenge.

Yet the dragons were not undone by mortal races alone, for strife already gnawed within their own kind. Lord Nagafen and Lady Vox, bound as lovers, sought to breed another prismatic dragon, intending with such a being to overthrow Jaled Dar and seize control of the Ring of Scale. Their design was discovered before it could come to pass. Lady Vox fled to the icy fastness of Everfrost, while Lord Nagafen allowed himself to be taken and driven into the Lavastorm Mountains, ensuring that Vox might escape while carrying the fruit of their forbidden union. The other dragons soon uncovered her refuge, and Jaled Dar called upon mighty magics, transforming the separate sanctuaries of both rebels into prisons and condemning them never to see one another again. To guard against escape, an elite order called the Drakota was formed, charged with watching over Nagafen and Vox, ensuring the prisoners remained divided and their forbidden ambition never again threatened the order of dragonkind.

The Age of Monuments

Legend does not say whether Innoruuk knew of Norrath before the other gods forged their pact. What is known is that the Prince of Hate burned with wrath at being excluded from their counsel, and his resentment fell most bitterly upon Tunare, whom he desired for himself. In vengeance he reached into the elven capital of Takish'Hiz and stole the elven king and queen from the Thex palace. Deep within the Plane of Hate he tormented them for centuries, twisting both flesh and spirit until little remained of what they had been. In time the Thex monarchs became the first dark elves. Others followed, powerful elves who had entered Innoruuk's plane in a desperate attempt to rescue their sovereigns, only to share in their corruption. When his work was done, Innoruuk cast the Teir'Dal out of his realm into the underworld of Norrath, there to multiply and carry the seeds of his revenge against the gods who had spurned him.

During this same age, Brell Serilis continued to seek new ways to extend his influence over the world taking shape. When Fizzlethorpe Bristlebane and the dreaded Cazic-Thule entered Norrath, Brell saw another chance for alliance. Rallos Zek, still distrustful yet unable to ignore Brell's earlier successes, at last agreed to join this second divine pact, and as before, the gods bound by it created mortal races to represent their will.

Brell fashioned the gnomes, smaller kin to the dwarves, marked by restless curiosity and a fascination with strange machines, clever devices, and exotic magics. Bristlebane created the halflings, small and nimble folk with quick hands, quicker wits, and an incurable talent for meddling, and wisely placed them in lands far from the dragons and giants. Cazic-Thule and Rallos Zek, driven perhaps by rivalry as much as divine purpose, each created two races. Cazic-Thule, the Faceless, brought forth the reptilian iksar and the brutish trolls amid the swamps and jungles of Norrath. Rallos Zek, ever mindful of conquest, made the ogres and the orcs, races shaped to spread his values across the world by strength of arms and by force wherever force was required.

The Shissar Empire

No record names with certainty the creator of the shissar, and the serpent-folk themselves have always rejected the notion that any race, power, or god could stand above them. By the middle days of the Age of Monuments they had risen to mastery over a vast and cruel empire, and many conquered peoples were judged unworthy even of servitude and erased utterly from the world.

Among the few spared were the iksar, whose reptilian nature may have saved them from annihilation. Yet survival proved a bitter mercy, for over centuries the lizard-folk labored beneath the lash of the shissar, bound in servitude under the merciless dominion of Ssraeshza, immortal Emperor of the Shissar.

In time the arrogance of the shissar swelled beyond restraint. They openly rejected the gods and claimed that they, not Cazic-Thule, had created the iksar to serve them. Such defiance drew the wrath of the Faceless One, who loosed upon their empire a terrible plague, a strange green mist that crept through their cities and temples, slaying the serpent-folk while sparing all other races. Desperate, Ssraeshza and his advisors withdrew into their Grand Temple, and there, with ruin closing around them, they cast a mighty spell that tore them from Norrath itself. For ages thereafter the shissar endured in secrecy upon the Moon of Luclin, hidden from the doom they had fled. Even that distant refuge could not preserve them forever. In the Shattering the last of the serpent-folk perished, and their empire passed fully into memory. Today the shissar remain only as a fading terror in old tales, their name whispered by iksar mothers to frighten unruly children into obedience.

The Iksar Empire

Thus did the iksar survive the fall of the shissar. In the ages that followed, they rose from bondage and ruin to found several powerful city-states upon the perilous continent of Kunark. These rival powers were at last united beneath the iron will of Venril Sathir, a ruthless necromancer whose undead legions helped him carve an empire from blood, fear, and conquest. The Empire of Sebilis came to rival even the cruelty of the vanquished shissar, and as the serpent-folk had once enslaved the iksar, so too did the iksar conquer and bind others. Giants were broken into servitude, and peaceful frogloks were dragged beneath the shadow of Sebilis. Under Venril Sathir, and later his son Rile, the empire expanded until nearly all of Kunark bent beneath iksar dominion.

In time the power of the iksar grew so great that it threatened not merely Kunark but all of Norrath. Atrebe, son of Rile, turned to forbidden magic and committed an abomination that stirred even dragonkind to wrath, interbreeding dragons and iksar to give rise to the hybrid race called the sarnak. The great dragon Trakanon was appalled by this violation and urged Jaled Dar, ruler of the Ring of Scale, to make war upon the iksar. The more conservative dragons of the Claws of Veeshan held apart, unwilling to oppose the lizard-folk directly. So while the Claws kept to neutrality, the Ring of Scale prepared for war.

Thus began the struggle between the Empire of Sebilis and the Ring of Scale. Emperor Rile perished when his fleet was destroyed by Trakanon and his allies, yet the iksar did not yield, and rule passed to Rile's son Ganak, beneath whom the war continued with bitter fury. In time Ganak himself slew Jaled Dar, striking down the ancient ruler of the Ring of Scale, but even so great a victory could not end the conflict, and the war ground on, wearing down both empire and dragonkind. When Ganak was at last killed in reprisal, the iksar throne gave way to a ruling council called the Emerald Circle. But the empire, weakened by war and divided in leadership, could not withstand what followed. Under Trakanon's command the Ring of Scale struck again, shattering Sebilis and breaking the power of the iksar, while across Kunark enslaved peoples rose in revolt and the once-mighty empire collapsed into ruin.

Trakanon had little time to savor his victory. For waging an unsanctioned war against the iksar he was exiled by the Claws of Veeshan. Thus the conqueror of Sebilis became, in the eyes of his own kind, a cast-out wyrm, victorious, feared, and forever marked by the war he had chosen to fight.

Zek's Children

Following the great tumult of creation, the many races of Norrath, both elder and young, began to shape their scattered cities and outposts into nations, kingdoms, and empires. Some turned toward expansion, others toward conquest, but none pursued dominion with such terrible success as the ogres. Through immense strength and a mastery of magic now scarcely imaginable, they came in time to control much of the continent then called Tunaria.

When the ogres believed they had all but mastered Norrath, their hunger did not fade but sought a greater battlefield. Learning of realms beyond the mortal world, they dared to carry war into the Plane of Earth itself, and there they fought its denizens until they were turned back by the ancient power known as the Rathe, whose rule over that plane was absolute. Rallos Zek swelled with pride at the audacity and might of his creations, and when they were driven back, the Warlord himself led a second assault into the Plane of Earth. The heavens trembled at the threat. The other gods, fearing what might follow should Rallos succeed, allied against him and his children, for if the Warlord could break the Plane of Earth, what would prevent him from breaching their own realms and enslaving their peoples? So the armies of Zek were defeated and hurled back into Norrath.

The punishment that followed was as severe as it was lasting. The Rathe scattered the children of Rallos Zek across the world. Ogres were slain by the thousands and their empire collapsed into ruin. The Rathe also cursed both ogres and giants with dimness of mind, robbing them of the intellect needed to wield the powerful magics that had once raised them to such heights. A few ogres escaped this doom, sheltered from the curse within a region called the Islands of Mist, where they continued unaffected by the affliction fallen upon their kin, though they remained few and never again rivaled the vast power of the old empire.

The homelands of the giants, once lush and mighty, were battered beneath cold and ice. Some say the goblins too were cursed, though their punishment was so terrible and complete that no record now preserves its true nature. Having crippled the children of Zek, the Rathe and the other elder gods raised a barrier against the Planes of Power, Air, Water, Fire, and Earth, decreeing that never again would mortals or lesser gods so freely trespass upon those sacred realms. Yet Rallos Zek endured. Imprisoned within the very Planes of Power he had sought to conquer, the Warlord waited, watchful, wrathful, and unbowed, turning his thoughts toward vengeance against the gods who had denied him dominion.

The War of the Broken Crown

The last of the old races to suffer decline was that of the elves. In those days the Elddar Forest stretched across the southeastern reaches of Tunaria, a vast and ancient woodland beloved of Tunare and guarded by her children. Yet for reasons no surviving record fully explains, Solusek Ro, son of Fennin Ro and ruler of the Plane of Sun, raised the Serpent Mountains from the earth. Those towering heights cut the Elddar off from the northern lands that had long fed it with rain, and beneath the unrelenting sun the forest began to die. The rivers ran dry, green boughs withered, and sacred groves cracked beneath dust and heat. Not even the mighty elven druids of Tunare could halt the ruin as the great forest wasted into a desert where living wood had once stood in glory. By the time the armies of Rallos Zek had claimed much of Tunaria, the city of Takish'Hiz and the lands around it had already begun their slow and irrevocable fall.

Meanwhile the Thex monarchs, corrupted long before by Innoruuk, ruled a dark elven empire that claimed dominion over all elvenkind. Through King Naythox and Queen Cristianos Thex, the Teir'Dal asserted a divine right to command every branch of the elven people. Yet from its beginning their empire was riddled with intrigue, betrayal, and political bloodletting. Even so, the dark elf king and queen made one final attempt to claim rulership over all elves, seeking to force their subjects into the worship of the Prince of Hate. The distant provinces of the light elves rose in rebellion, led by young King Tearis Thex, son of the corrupted monarchs, and so began an elven war of kin against kin, bitter and unrelenting, which raged for many long years. At last Xanit K'Ven, a dark elf and follower of Rallos Zek who had served among the Rallosian armies, was named Overlord of the dark elven host, and with that authority he was permitted to march upon Takish'Hiz and raze it. So ended the Elddar.

The light elves who survived fled Tunaria, following Queen Elizerain, who served as regent for the young Tearis Thex, across the Ocean of Tears. Upon distant Faydwer they sought to begin again, far from the desert that had swallowed their ancestral home and the hatred that had consumed their kin. Yet before their departure the light elves struck one last blow. An elite force of warriors and spellcasters fell upon the dark elven city of Caerthiel, once known as Wielle and destined in later ages to be rebuilt and renamed Freeport, and destroyed it utterly, leaving ruin where their enemies had stood.

Thus the ancient forest passed into memory, the elves were scattered across the world, and the sorrow of the Elddar became one more wound in the long and broken history of Norrath.

The Age of Blood

Perhaps drawn by the fury surrounding the war for the Planes of Power and the punishment dealt by the Rathe, the twin deities Erollisi Marr and Mithaniel Marr came to Norrath. They asked no leave of the other gods and bound themselves to no divine pact. Instead they set their hands to creation and brought forth humans in the frozen north of Tunaria, near the territories of the giants. These first northern humans were fierce and warlike, willing to test their strength against nearly any foe they met, whether stranger, beast, giant, or one another. Wherever they spread, conflict followed. Their restless will, their hunger for struggle, and the many brutal wars already raging across the world gave this turbulent era its name, and thus it was remembered as the Age of Blood.

The Fall of the Kedge

The enlightened aquatic race known as the kedge had long dwelt in peace beneath the waves. Powerful, learned, and ancient in wisdom, they were nevertheless bound by the decree of their creator Prexus so that their numbers could never truly increase. The kedge were effectively immortal, and only when one of their kind died by violence, disease, or some other unnatural cause could another be born to take their place. Seeking to free his people from what he believed a curse, the kedge wizard Phinigel Autropos searched for a means by which the kedge might grow and prosper as the land-dwelling races did. In pursuit of this ambition he led a crusade against the dwarves of Kaladim, intending to seize their knowledge and magic, and after slaying the hero-king Dagnor Butcherblock he carried away the monarch's mighty hammer and kept it within the sunken halls of Kedge Keep.

In time Phinigel came upon what he believed to be the answer, preparing a great ritual meant to gather immense magical energies, free the souls of the kedge, and allow new souls to be brought forth. Yet the rite failed in catastrophe. Rather than liberating his people, Phinigel destroyed them. The kedge were wiped from the face of Norrath, their collective mind, memory, and soul drawn into Phinigel himself, and the burden of an entire race's ruin shattered his sanity. For centuries thereafter he remained alone in the drowned remnants of Kedge Keep, tormented by failure and driven by a hopeless desire to restore the people he had slain by his own hand. Only a small number of hybrid kedge, untouched by the disaster, endured beyond the fall of their kin, lingering in the region known as the Islands of Mist, where some believe they dwell still, quiet remnants of a people whose wisdom could not save them from the desperation of one who sought to preserve them.

The Swords of the Orcs

In the days following the elven exodus to Faydwer, the Crushbone orcs began to stir. From the region called the Loping Plains they advanced in a vast and seemingly unstoppable horde, spilling at last into the forests of the Faydark and bringing war to the wood elf kingdom of Kelethin. Hard-pressed by the onslaught, Carandril, ruler of the wood elves, turned to the high elves of Felwithe for aid. They answered beneath the command of Edril, a high elf hero and cousin to King Tearis Thex himself. With disciplined ranks and sudden wrath the high elves marched to war, falling upon the orcs in a surprise assault that broke their advance and scattered their strength. The surviving Crushbone orcs were driven deep into the shadowed reaches of the Faydark, where beneath ancient boughs and bitter memory they endured for centuries, brooding in darkness and nursing vengeance against the elves who had humbled them.

Edril and the Gnomes

Since their arrival upon Norrath, the gnomes had dwelt both among the dwarves and in the wild places near the forest borders later claimed by the wood elves. Though not despised, neither were they regarded as equals. To many dwarves the gnomes were little more than lesser kin, useful, curious, and tolerated, yet treated as second-class citizens or poor cousins from the outer wilds. At last the famed gnome Biddyn appealed to Carandril, ruler of the wood elves, asking that his people be granted a kingdom of their own. Carandril consented and bestowed upon the gnomes a stretch of barren land beyond the Steamfont Mountains, and in gratitude, in the old tongue of the elves, the new land was named Ak'Anon, meaning "gift."

A company of gnomish explorers and surveyors set out at once to map their promised home, yet the gift soon proved perilous. The land was blighted, and of that first expedition only one explorer returned, bearing dreadful tales of a plague dragon that had fallen upon his companions and slaughtered them. Once more Edril, Champion of Tunare, answered the need. With brave Biddyn and a chosen band of companions at his side, the elf-lord journeyed into Ak'Anon to confront the terror that haunted it, and there, in single combat, Edril faced the plague dragon and slew it. For centuries thereafter the skull of the beast stood above the gates of the gnomish citadel of Fortress Mechanus, a grim trophy and a sign that the land had been claimed through courage as much as grace.

After the dragon's death, Biddyn, Edril, and their companions labored without rest to cleanse Ak'Anon of the monsters that infested it. Through blade, spell, craft, and resolve they made the barren land safe for settlement, and in time Ak'Anon flourished, becoming the thriving and permanent home the gnomes had long desired. Thus was a people once treated as lesser kin given not merely refuge, but a realm of their own.

War of the Seven Tribes

Long ago, abandoned by Cazic-Thule in favor of his chosen people the iksar, the trolls were left to survive by tooth, claw, and cruelty in the wilds of Tunaria. Through countless generations they rose again and again into crude dominions that resembled empire, only to splinter apart beneath the weight of their own savagery. At last they descended fully into brutality and turned upon one another with a fury greater than any they had shown before. Their once-prosperous lands were torn apart by the civil conflict remembered as the War of the Seven Tribes.

Though terrible, this watershed struggle did not endure for long, and in a relatively short span only one tribe remained, led by Nalikor, an ancient and cunning troll warrior whose vision was as ruthless as his methods. Through strength, guile, and open treachery he accomplished what generations of would-be troll emperors had failed to achieve. Nalikor did not permit rival tribes to survive and later fracture his realm. He destroyed them.

After some years spent gathering strength, the trolls met the ogres of Oggok in battle, and there, through ferocity and endurance, they won the respect of their old foes. Nalikor and the ogre rulers came to an accord, and as token of that agreement Nalikor gave them his enchanted sword, which for many years thereafter was kept at the sacred place called Broken Skull Rock. With the aid of the ogres the trolls founded the city of Grobb, where amid stone, mire, and old hatred they began once more to grow in number and power, no longer scattered tribes warring in the dark, but a people gathered beneath the legacy of Nalikor's cruel and enduring will.

The Lost Age

In what some have named the last great act of divine intervention, several tribes of barbarians were reshaped by Erollisi Marr into a new race, one more thoughtful, compassionate, and tempered than those from whom they had arisen. Erollisi herself, once revered chiefly as a warrior goddess, had by then taken on the gentler aspects of love and partnership. Thus did humanity, as it is now known, at last take its place among the elder races of Norrath.

Swifter than any might have imagined, the fast-breeding and quick-learning humans spread across the world. From scattered settlements and rising cities they forged the mighty Combine Empire, the first and last great dominion of humankind, and for a time its reach seemed boundless and its promise greater still. Yet the empire fell as swiftly as it had risen, and its death came not by any foreign conqueror but through treachery from within.

General Seru, ambitious and corrupt, betrayed his emperor in an attempt to seize the throne. Those who remained loyal fled Norrath, escaping to the Moon of Luclin, where they founded the city of Katta Castellum, and Seru and his followers soon pursued them, raising their own stronghold upon Luclin, Sanctus Seru. With Seru's departure from Norrath the Combine Empire was truly ended. In the ages since, almost no records of that first and final human empire have survived, yet its presence has not wholly vanished, for across the world scattered ruins and ancient relics remain, silent witnesses to a civilization whose brilliance was undone by betrayal.

The Age of Enlightenment

Though their empire lay behind them, humanity had not been broken. The humans yet possessed strength, resilience, and a restless will to shape the world around them. Upon Tunaria they founded two great cities, Freeport and Qeynos, and in time the continent itself was renamed Antonica in honor of one of their great leaders, Antonius Bayle II, remembered as the Great Defender. As humans from distant continents came to these twin capitals, they brought the customs, learning, and magics of their homelands, and the young cities became gathering places of many traditions, where old knowledge mingled with new ambition and the memory of the fallen Combine still lingered in scattered fragments.

Yet such knowledge stirred discontent in some. Among humanity there arose a malcontented minority who desired deeper mastery of magic and a life apart from the warlike ways of their forebears. Under the guidance of their leader Erud, they turned from the lands of Antonica and crossed the sea in search of enlightenment. They came at last to a distant land they named Odus, and there, far from the twin human capitals, they founded a new society devoted to knowledge, discipline, and the study of magic. Thus began the people who would walk a different path from the rest of humankind, seeking not dominion through conquest but ascendancy through intellect and arcane power.

The Age of Turmoil

The followers of Erud, who by then had named themselves the Erudites, shaped their society around the disciplined study of the spellcasting arts, with particular devotion to the arcane. Yet among them arose a young genius and radical named Miragul, whose hunger for power led him down a path long feared and forbidden. In his searching he rediscovered the dark art of necromancy, a practice already known among the Teir'Dal and once explored in secret by certain humans of the fallen Combine Empire. Miragul did not keep this knowledge to himself, and others among the Erudites were drawn into his studies until those who practiced necromancy were discovered by the High Council of Erudin. Condemned as heretics, they were cast beyond the bounds of accepted Erudite society, though neither shame nor decree could extinguish the power they had uncovered.

Civil war soon erupted between Miragul's followers and the self-proclaimed morally advanced teachers and rulers who opposed them. Spellcasters on both sides perished in great numbers as the conflict consumed Erudite society, and at last, in one final and catastrophic battle, the combatants unleashed terrible mystical energies that tore beyond their intended purpose. By some vast and disastrous force the entire kerran city of Shar Vahl was translocated from Norrath, leaving behind only a tremendous crater descending into the depths of Odus, into which the heretics withdrew. The chasm came to be called the Hole, and within its depths the exiles built the hidden city of Paineel, seeking refuge, power, and the freedom to continue their forbidden studies beyond the reach of Erudin's High Council.

Yet their sanctuary did not remain secure for long. From the deeper passages of the Underfoot came the servants of Brell Serilis, earth elementals and other denizens of the hidden world below, who rose against Paineel, destroying the city and driving the heretics from the depths they had claimed. In time Paineel was rebuilt with painstaking care, though nearer to the surface than before, and the heretics endured, nursing old grievances and darker ambitions, still plotting to reclaim the depths, recover their lost lore, and wrest from Brell and his servants the buried secrets of the Underfoot.

The Portals of Luclin

Torn from Norrath by the terrible magics of the Erudite War, the kerran city of Shar Vahl was hurled into the heavens. It plunged through the void before coming to rest upon the Moon of Luclin, where under the rule of King Vah Kerrath the kerra founded a new civilization and took a new name, the Vah Shir, in honor of their sovereign and his clan. Upon that distant moon the cat-folk grew numerous and prosperous, and in time made peaceful contact with the Combine Loyalists who had fled Norrath and founded their own refuge among Luclin's hidden reaches. Yet the peace of the Vah Shir did not endure unchallenged. From beneath the moon's surface emerged a cruel and diminutive race called the grimlings, awakened by means now clouded in uncertainty, and war between the Vah Shir and the grimlings raged for centuries, its bitterness lasting until the Shattering brought ruin upon Luclin itself.

Before that final tragedy, a strange turning of fate brought the Moon of Luclin near to Norrath. Across the world the ancient structures long known as wizard spires stirred from dormancy, flickering, pulsing, and shining with powers not fully understood, as though answering some call from the heavens. It was the legendary Erudite wizard Al'Kabor who discovered their truth: the spires could serve as gateways between Norrath and the Moon of Luclin. For the next several decades, travel and trade between the mortal world and that distant, mysterious moon became not merely possible but almost commonplace. Yet Luclin herself watched. The goddess, jealous and secretive by nature, regarded the arrival of so many strangers with growing concern, though she did not reveal her hand, remaining in shadow, silent and watchful, observing the trespassers who had found passage into her hidden realm.

The Planes of Power

The events that would end the Age of Turmoil and usher in the terrible Age of War began with the birth of the godling Lanys T'vyl, daughter of Innoruuk and his most revered high priestess. Created as a vessel for the Prince of Hate's malice, Lanys was meant to become his instrument of ultimate vengeance against the elves who had rejected him. As she came into her power she gathered relics of great might and drew to herself a vast army of Teir'Dal, intending to fall upon the unsuspecting peoples of Antonica and drown the lands in hatred, conquest, and ruin.

Seemingly by chance, Lord Tethys of Highkeep learned of her designs and called upon the goodly races of Antonica to stand against her before her host could be unleashed. To his cause came Carson McCabe, the barbarian warrior; Galeth Verdeth, leader of the Paladins of Tunare; Tubr Broadaxe, stalwart champion of the dwarves; and Firiona Vie, lost daughter of King Tearis Thex. Together they led their forces into the shadowed depths of Kithicor Woods, where Lanys and her dark elven army awaited. There, amid blood, steel, and sorcery, Firiona Vie struck down Lanys T'vyl. Elsewhere upon the field, Galeth Verdeth faced Laarthik, the shadow knight who commanded the dark elven host. Armed with a mighty artifact, Laarthik fought with savage strength, unleashing terrible magical energies against his foes, yet the power he wielded consumed him, and in his final agony he cried out to the Prince of Hate, calling upon Innoruuk to aid his servants.

Enraged by the fall of his daughter, Innoruuk took up the wounded body of Lanys and answered with divine wrath. He summoned a monstrous being known simply as Hate, an embodiment of his own dread plane made manifest upon Norrath. Its presence poisoned Kithicor Woods forever, twisting the forest into a place of horror where the undead stalked the living and the light of goodness was driven from beneath its boughs. Yet Innoruuk's rash vengeance set in motion a chain of events no god could easily undo. The summoning of Hate caused a grievous shift in the alignments of the planes, and the ancient barriers once raised by the Rathe were distorted, weakened, and made vulnerable. Where once the realms of the gods had stood beyond mortal reach, now paths could be found, and soon mortal scholars and spellcasters learned to open gates into the Planes of Power themselves. As had happened upon Luclin, outsiders began to pass into immortal realms. This time, however, the gods would not remain silent observers. Mortal trespass into the divine planes would be answered with judgment, and Norrath would pay dearly for the audacity of those who dared cross the boundaries between the world and the heavens.

The War of Plagues

Even as mortals began to trespass within the domains of the gods, violence and fear continued to stalk Norrath. The people of Qeynos were beset by a horde of plague-ridden undead raised by the wicked shadow knight Lord Grimrot, a member of the hated Bloodsabers and a servant of Bertoxxulous, Lord of Plagues, who sought to spread his master's corruption across Antonica. The forces of Qeynos met Grimrot upon the Thundering Steppes and were soundly defeated, falling back into the Qeynos Hills. There, under the command of Lord Kane Bayle, master of the Qeynos Guard, they made their final stand. Many later believed Bayle's conduct upon the field had been marked by grave tactical error. In truth those errors were no mistakes at all, for Lord Bayle had betrayed Qeynos and served Grimrot in secret. Yet despite treachery within their own command, the humans prevailed. Lord Grimrot, Lord Bayle, and the surviving Bloodsabers were eventually captured and executed, or destroyed where execution no longer held meaning. Still, the undead Grimrot had called into being did not vanish with their master, and for many years thereafter, even into the age after the Shattering, his plague-born remnants continued to trouble the lands around Qeynos.

The War of Fay

While Grimrot's armies marched against Qeynos, the dark elves once more turned their eyes toward conquest. A vast Teir'Dal armada landed upon Faydwer and moved in secrecy to seize the forests of Faydark and the elven lands surrounding them, believing that there they might establish settlements upon the surface while remaining sheltered from the sunlight they so despised. The scouts of Kelethin discovered the invasion, but too late to prevent the bulk of the Teir'Dal forces from swarming onto the continent, and so began the War of Fay, a conflict that endured for more than a year and saw countless battles, both great and small, fought beneath the shadowed boughs of Faydwer.

The gnomes of Ak'Anon and the dwarves of Kaladim took up arms beside the wood elves and high elves. Nor did the mortal races stand alone, for the creatures of the Faydark, the brownies, pixies, and faerie dragons, joined the struggle as well, fighting in one last brutal effort to preserve their homeland. In the end the dark elves, aided by minotaurs, orcs, trolls, ogres, and other servants of darkness, seized Felwithe itself and held the high elven city for two full weeks before the allied defenders drove them out and forced the survivors to flee deep into the Faydark. Yet victory came at a grievous cost. King Tearis Thex perished early in the war, slain upon the walls of Felwithe. The forests and kingdoms of Faydwer were left scarred, and those who survived began, sorrowfully, to rebuild what had been ravaged. The repercussions of the war would prove immense, most especially for the ruling dynasty of the Teir'Dal.

The Fall of Thex

The Thex Dynasty had wagered everything upon the War of Fay, and it had lost. Much of its army lay dead or scattered through the forests of Faydwer. For many generations a caste of necromancers known as the Dead had opposed any attempt to open the dark elven world to the surface, urging the rulers of Neriak to turn their ambitions instead toward the caverns and hidden places beneath Norrath. Queen Cristianos Thex was one of the founding members of the Dead and its foremost voice in keeping the Teir'Dal beneath the earth. She was the very same monarch stolen away by Innoruuk in ages past, transformed by hate, preserved by necromantic power, and sustained by the long life of her elven blood.

King Naythox I had, in truth, been slain centuries earlier by Xanit K'Ven, the first Teir'Dal Overlord, who was himself later captured and given over to Innoruuk. Cristianos had thereafter married another royal Thex, who became King Naythox II, yet all the while she longed for the day when she might seize the throne for herself alone, cast aside the Thex title she had gained by marriage, and declare herself Empress beneath her own name. The War of Fay gave her the opportunity she had awaited for centuries. As the Teir'Dal armies were butchered among the trees of Felwithe, Cristianos and her allies among the Dead moved against Naythox II, and in a single bloody night hundreds of Thex loyalists were slaughtered, Cristianos herself taking pleasure in murdering her hated consort as he slept. By dawn Empress Cristianos had seized control of Neriak, and the Dead rose with her, gaining not only spiritual influence but temporal power as well. Thus did the Thex Dynasty among the dark elves come to its end.

Though the surface races knew nothing of this subterranean coup, they were already preparing to strike against the Teir'Dal of Antonica. The dark elves' chief passage to the surface was a subterranean city called the First Gate, and the goodly races, especially the halflings, devised a plan to end the Teir'Dal threat for good. The Leatherfoot Raiders, elite guards of Rivervale, allied with the gnomes to assault and destroy the First Gate, thereby cutting the dark elves away from the sunlit world. Aided by a wondrous mechanimagical device created for this purpose, the Raiders slipped into the tunnels leading to the city, and knowing the strength of their enemies they advanced with great stealth, evaded the guards, and placed the device where it would inflict the greatest devastation. Then they withdrew as silently as they had come. The device exploded soon after, utterly destroying the First Gate. So far as the halflings could tell, the dark elves had been sealed within the bowels of Norrath forever, and those Teir'Dal who had survived upon the surface, lost and scattered amid the Faydark, were left few in number and forced once more to adapt to life beneath the trees of Faydwer.

The Council of Gods

At last, some one hundred and twenty-five years after the reopening of the Planes of Power, the gods grew wrathful over the many mortals who had entered their domains, for too many trespassers had failed to show proper reverence before the divine. The gods gathered in solemn council and debated in the manner of immortals, for whom time held little meaning, yet to mortal perception the Great Council of the Divine endured for a full century. No mortal knows with certainty what transpired during that mighty assembly. Only this is known: when the council ended, Norrath was changed forever. The Age of War had come.

The Age of War

Without warning, the druid portals and wizard spires long used for passage across Norrath and beyond ceased to function. Communication between distant peoples became difficult, and travel between far-flung lands became rare. The books that led to the Plane of Knowledge were hunted down and destroyed by the most powerful agents of the gods. The gates to the Planes of Power were sealed, and no mortal magic could open them again. Nor were these the only signs of divine withdrawal. The weather of Norrath began to change. Storms raged across the oceans, making sea travel perilous at best and impossible at worst. The continents grew isolated from one another. Earthquakes shook the land, and volcanoes rose from mountains that had once seemed stable.

In this early and fearful period, the priests and clerics of the gods made a discovery more terrible to them than any storm or quake. The gods had cut off all contact. They no longer answered prayers, no longer granted aid, and divine magic became difficult, uncertain, and dangerous. Despair seized the peoples of Norrath, and prophets cried that the end of the world was near. Explanations for the gods' departure varied. The followers of goodly powers claimed this was a time of testing, and that through faith, sacrifice, and righteous deeds the gods might be persuaded to return. Those who served darker gods were less charitable, believing the disasters a punishment for mortal disrespect, and that the gods would return only when their anger had cooled, or when enough blood had been spilled in their names. The most extreme claims came from the agnostics, who had long held that the gods were little more than arrogant, wrathful children, powerful beyond mortal measure yet not true divinities worthy of worship. To them the gods' folly in opening the Planes of Power had led to their own undoing. Some even claimed the gods had been slain, while others simply rejoiced that such mighty children had at last departed the mortal realm and left mortals to choose their own fate. Whatever the truth, the consequences of the gods' absence grew clearer with each passing year as Norrath sank deeper into violence, disaster, and uncertainty.

The Avatar of War

Though the gods had withdrawn, beings of terrible power remained upon Norrath, and the coming of one such being, the dreadful Avatar of War, heralded the return of one of the most feared powers in history, the Rallosian Empire. With the departure of the gods, many lingering curses and divine effects began to fade, and of these none proved more consequential than the Curse of the Rathe, which had held the goblins, orcs, ogres, and giants in an artificial stupor for ages. Now the children of Zek regained their ancient intelligence and cunning, joined to a renewed thirst for blood and conquest.

Under the leadership of the Avatar of War, the ogres began to build a new city deep within the jungles of Feerrott, which they named Rallos in honor of their imprisoned creator. There the Avatar gathered an army of giants, orcs, and other children of Zek, along with certain surviving servants of fear. When the new Rallosian army emerged from the jungle it came as an unstoppable juggernaut. Surrounding lands were conquered with terrifying speed, and those who stood in its path were slaughtered or enslaved. Yet even the disasters of that age would soon seem small beside what was coming.

The Horde of Inferno

As the new Rallosian Empire rose in the south, another force of destruction gathered in northern Antonica. Beneath the command of another being of apparent divine origin, the Avatar of Flame, thousands of bloodthirsty humanoids rallied to the banner of a new host, the Horde of Inferno. Three orcish empires, the Deathfist, the Rujarkian, and the Frozentusk of the Northlands, joined with the goblins of the Serpent Spine Mountains to form the heart of this host. Soon barbarians and humans alike found themselves beset by this northern menace, while the ogres of the south pursued their imperial ambitions with comparatively little hindrance.

By the year 291 the Horde had grown strong enough to threaten both Qeynos and Halas. One great orcish army moved south toward the human lands, while another pressed against the Northmen, driving the defenders back step by step. Despite a stubborn defense, the barbarians were outnumbered and outmaneuvered, and by the spring of 302 the Horde stood at the gates of Halas itself. To the south, the Rallosian armies advanced deep into Qeynos territory, their progress harder won, yet it seemed only a matter of time before Qeynos too would be placed under siege.

The Avatars of Good

For a time it seemed the doomsayers had spoken truly. The end of Norrath appeared near, and the forces of darkness seemed destined to triumph, with the Horde of Inferno pressing from the north and the reborn Rallosian Empire gathering strength in the south. Yet even in that darkness a spark endured. Legend holds that a faithful priest of Quellious, whose devotion had never wavered despite the silence of the gods, was invested with divine power and transformed into the Avatar of Tranquility. He strode across the land, gathering the forces of light and restoring hope to those scattered by war, disaster, and despair. In time he was joined by another mighty being, a force of nature calling itself the Avatar of Storms. Rumors concerning this being's true identity are as varied as the theories surrounding the gods' departure, though most believed he too had once been a devoted servant of the divine, granted great power in exchange for his faith and service to Karana.

The appearance of these avatars was seized upon by the faithful as proof that the gods had not truly abandoned Norrath. Together the Avatar of Tranquility and the Avatar of Storms rallied the scattered defenders of Antonica, forming a fragile buffer of resistance between the mortal cities and the two advancing juggernauts. Their efforts were immense, for without them the lands of humankind would likely have been overrun with little effort. Yet even with their aid the survival of civilization remained uncertain, and when the Avatar of Tranquility vanished into the Desert of Ro, many believed the cause of good was doomed, though he had promised he would one day return.

The Return of the Rallosians

Once the Feerrott jungle had been subdued, the ogres descended upon Gukta, center of the frogloks. By the year 295 the orderly frogloks had been driven back into the labyrinth of Guk, where the ogres placed them under siege while preparing to invade the Plains of Karana. The Rathe Mountains fell swiftly to Rallosian forces, and from there the ogres began ferrying troops across Lake Rathetear, assembling a vast host that they unleashed into the plains in early 302. The Plains of Karana, perhaps because of their great size, proved almost impossible to defend, and human forces that met the Rallosian army were swiftly overwhelmed. Within a short time the plains were nearly in the hands of the empire. The gnolls of Splitpaw, left with little choice, reluctantly joined with the Rallosians, and the ogres and their allies seemed poised for total triumph. Then they made the error that would doom them.

The Avatar of Fear

From Feerrott to Gukta and into the Plains of Karana, the Rallosian Empire had known an unbroken chain of victories. As its scouts drew near Qeynos, the ogres also turned greedy eyes toward the Temple of Cazic-Thule, the great citadel of the departed God of Fear, deep within the swamps of southern Feerrott. For years the Rallosians had left the temple undisturbed, whether from lingering respect for the followers of Cazic-Thule or from some other cause no record states with certainty. Yet with absolute victory seemingly within reach, the ogres cast aside their reservations, landed troops upon the island, seized the temple, and took control of the inactive portal within.

The temple was still guarded by Tae Ew lizardmen loyal to Cazic-Thule, aided by a squad of horrific Amygdalan knights, yet the ogres' assault caught them unprepared. The battle was swift and bloody, and within days the ogres had secured nearly all of the temple, though some defenders continued to lurk within its lowest mazes. They began to plunder the vast treasures and magical relics held within, and the Tae Ew were enslaved and forced into the armies of Rallos. Perhaps the hordes of Rallos believed the remaining servants of Cazic-Thule lacked the strength to oppose the Avatar of War, for Rallos Zek had ever despised weakness, and now that his own children were ascendant, old alliances may have seemed meaningless. Whatever their reasoning, the ogres and their allies had violated an ancient compact never to disturb the Temple of Fear, and they would pay the ultimate price for their presumption.

Unknown to the Rallosians, Cazic-Thule's most powerful minion, the Avatar of Fear, had not truly been slain by adventurers as many believed. Instead the monstrous servant had long slumbered beneath the swamps of Feerrott, left there as a final guardian by the departing God of Fear. The sack of the temple stirred the behemoth to wakefulness, and the enormity of the ogres' betrayal roused it to vengeance. Years would pass before the full consequence of that transgression was made manifest, but from that moment onward the Rallosian Empire was doomed.

The Fire in the North

Meanwhile, in the Northlands, the Horde of Inferno seemed no less unstoppable. While besieging Halas it also struck southward, capturing the Oasis of Marr after fierce fighting, surrounding Highhold, and seizing Misty Thicket. Soon the Avatar of Flame led its forces into the depths of Blackburrow, capturing the citadel from those few gnoll tribes that had not yet fallen under Rallosian domination. At last Halas fell after a long and bitter siege. Orcs poured through the city, burning and slaughtering, and the ancient barbarian stronghold was reduced to ruin, its survivors fleeing into the wilderness, where they continued to resist the Horde as best they could.

Soon thereafter the Horde of Inferno came into contact with the resurgent Rallosian Empire. Though the orcs desired nothing less than complete conquest, they regarded the ogres as useful allies, and for the moment they were willing to accept the nominal command of the Avatar of War. When ordered to march upon Freeport, the Horde of Inferno obeyed.

The Gathering Storm

Freeport's streets were choked with refugees from wars in the north and south, and its military strength had fallen into disarray. The Knights of Truth and the Priests of Marr had long since departed, having grown disillusioned with the corruption and violence of human society, as had the Ashen Order. Only the Freeport Militia, together with Sir Lucan D'Lere and his cohort of knights, remained to defend the city. The stage was set for the final confrontation between the forces of light and darkness.

By the year 314 the two human cities of Freeport and Qeynos stood among the last bastions of freedom upon Antonica. A few pockets of resistance endured elsewhere, particularly in the Jaggedpine Forest and the refuge of Surefall Glade beyond it, as well as near the halfling city of Rivervale. Highkeep remained under siege yet still resisted. After ten years of defeat, attrition, and desperate defense, the surviving forces of light were led by the Avatar of Storms. The Avatar of Tranquility had not been seen since vanishing into the Desert of Ro years before, but the Avatar of Storms remained in the field, battling the champions of the Rallosians with the great blade Maelstrom and heartening those who could still fight.

Arrayed against the humans and their allies were the Armies of the Hordes, a force many historians have since described as nearly invincible. The Horde of Inferno consisted of an unholy alliance between two mighty orcish powers, the Deathfists and the Rujarkians, supported by thousands of enslaved troops and led by the Avatar of Flame. Beside them stood the reborn Rallosian Empire, commanded by the Avatar of War. Armed with the legendary blade Soulfire, he led a disciplined host of ogres, orcs, goblins, giants, ettins, and other servants of Rallos Zek, along with great numbers of enslaved frogloks, gnolls, Tae Ew lizardmen, and humans.

The Avatar of War sought nothing less than the complete annihilation of every rival civilization upon Antonica, and by unspoken agreement he was regarded as supreme commander of the Hordes. The Horde of Inferno was sent west to strike Qeynos, while the Rallosian forces marched through the Commonlands toward Freeport. All knew that, once the human cities fell, the Hordes would likely turn upon one another in a final struggle for dominance, and many believed such a war would end with the destruction of both armies, and perhaps all life upon Antonica. Then, at last, the Avatar of Tranquility returned. He emerged from the Desert of Ro at the head of a great company of warrior-monks from the Ashen Order. Years before, the order had departed Qeynos in disillusionment, but now, with civilization itself hanging in the balance, they returned to aid their kin in one final struggle. With the Avatar of Storms leading the defense of Qeynos, the Avatar of Tranquility and the Ashen Order moved to reinforce Lucan D'Lere and the embattled Freeport Militia.

The conflict to come would be remembered as the Battle of Defiance, though in truth it was not a single battle but a series of desperate engagements spread across the continent over seven full days. In that span the fate of Qeynos, Freeport, Antonica, and perhaps all Norrath was decided.

The Battle of Defiance

Those who still worship the vanished gods often point to the Battle of Defiance as proof that the divine yet existed and would one day return, for nothing else, they claim, can fully explain the chain of fortunate events that saved humanity and its allies from destruction. The first of these seemed to bear the hand of Brell Serilis, or of those who served him. Worshippers of Brell claimed that the Lord of Underfoot, enraged by the enslavement of the gnolls, caused a series of earthquakes to tear through the Commonlands and the Qeynos Hills, opening great fissures beneath the feet of the orcish forces, slowing both Hordes, and swallowing entire companies into the earth. The damage was severe though not fatal, for orcs formed only part of the combined armies. The Avatar of War ordered the orcs and goblins around Highkeep and Rivervale to reinforce his armies in the Qeynos Hills, while the orcs of Kithicor and Everfrost were sent into the Commonlands. Yet disaster struck again. Thousands more orcs and goblins vanished into crevices or were buried beneath stone and broken earth, and only a few hundred survived to join the fighting, arriving too late to decide the outcome.

Still, the Armies of the Hordes remained mighty, and the battles of the following week were savage. Slowly, through bitter resistance, the combined forces of the Freeport Militia and the Ashen Order were forced back, and once more it seemed Freeport would fall to the Rallosians. In the Qeynos Hills the struggle was no less fierce. The Avatar of Storms took the field, leading the Archers of Surefall and the Knights of Thunder, who had remained faithful to Karana through all the years of silence. Thanks in large part to the tremors that had slain so many of the Hordes, the battle there was fought to a standstill. Then calamity struck the Hordes a second time, as the gnolls, conquered and forced to serve as slave infantry, rose against their oppressors. Their rebellion displayed such sharp military and magical skill that many suspected they too had received divine inspiration, and deprived of their gnoll shock troops, the orc commanders fell into confusion.

On the eighth day of the struggle the Avatar of Storms led the Knights of Thunder in a final assault. As the Qeynos Guard drove into the surviving orcs, the knights hurled themselves against the Avatar of Flame. Many perished, yet they did not break, and their leader struck the blow that brought the Avatar of Flame down at last. The surviving orcs fled in disorder. After the battle the Avatar of Storms presented Maelstrom, his famed sword, to the honorable leader of the Knights of Thunder, and then, as the humans counted their dead and piled the bodies of their foes, the Avatar of Storms vanished from Norrath, leaving the faithful of Karana and his chosen champion to bear his legacy forward.

The struggle for Freeport was bloodier still, and far more chaotic. Many tales of that battle survive, though most agree that the Knights of Truth and Priests of Marr returned to aid the city's defenders, helping at last to turn the tide against the Rallosians. Yet even before such resistance, the ogres remained resolute, and they might still have prevailed had their earlier sacrilege not returned to destroy them. Deep in the swamps of Feerrott, the Avatar of Fear had completed its vengeance. For the second time in Norrath's history the terrible plague known as the Greenmist began to creep across the land. Once, summoned by Cazic-Thule himself, it had destroyed nearly all the shissar and forced the survivors to flee Norrath. Now its victims were the ogres, and they died by the thousands. Panic seized the leaders of the Rallosian Empire. In the south, ogres also fell beneath the Greenmist, and the peoples they had enslaved rose in revolt. Only those ogres engaged in the assault upon Guk and the small enclave upon the Islands of Mist survived, shielded from the plague's approach.

As the Greenmist consumed the ogre armies and then dissipated, the Knights of Truth struck, plunging into the heart of the reeling Rallosian host. The Avatar of War was overwhelmed and slain, and his deadly weapon Soulfire came into the hands of Lucan D'Lere. Some claim D'Lere gained the blade by treachery, after commanding his forces to slaughter the Knights of Truth, and his later deeds make such a tale easy to believe, yet no certainty remains. D'Lere himself claimed that he personally slew the Avatar of War and took Soulfire as his rightful prize, and since all the Knights of Truth perished in the battle, none survived to challenge his version.

In the aftermath the Ashen Order once more turned away from human civilization and returned to the Desert of Ro. The victory was not complete, for amid the confusion many Deathfist orcs escaped destruction and preserved a substantial portion of their strength, and in years to come they would rise again to trouble humanity. For the moment, however, the survivors mourned their dead and began to rebuild. Civilization had been saved. The cost had been terrible. And in the years ahead, Norrath would learn just how terrible.

The Word of the Tranquil

In the days following the Battle of Defiance, the humans surveyed the ruin and began to plan for rebuilding. Most believed the forces of evil had been shattered beyond recovery, and many called for a crusade against the ogres in the south. They turned to the Avatar of Tranquility, the last of the semi-divine beings still thought to remain upon Norrath, seeking guidance, only to find that he too had departed. Yet before leaving, the Avatar bestowed one final gift upon the people he cherished, appearing to certain mortals in dreams and speaking a cryptic, ominous message that would come to be known as the Word of the Tranquil: When the shadows are broken and fire rains from the sky, seek refuge within the cities of men.

Those who still revered the gods regarded the message as sacred prophecy and further proof that the divine had not abandoned mortals entirely. Others dismissed it as a deception, invented to preserve the authority of leaderless priests by convincing the desperate that the gods still existed. Yet the Word of the Tranquil was repeated often, and many remembered it when its warning at last came to pass. For a time it seemed Antonica might return to something like peace. The barbarians reclaimed Halas and began to rebuild, the frogloks emerged from hiding and returned to their abandoned cities, slaughtering the remaining servants of the Rallosian Empire wherever they found them, and a handful of surviving ogres fled from Guk and returned to Oggok, ever fearful that the Greenmist might return.

The Age of Cataclysms

Even as peace began to settle uneasily across Antonica, the fearful changes caused by the gods' departure worsened. Global temperatures rose. The icy continent of Velious began to melt, shattering the civilizations of the frost giants and the Coldain dwarves. Sea levels rose across Norrath, and the weather became wilder and less predictable. Travel between continents, already difficult and dangerous after the closing of the druid rings and wizard spires, became impossible. Beneath Antonica, Subtunaria, the vast network of caverns and tunnels beneath the continent, was damaged by rising waters and made unstable by seismic disturbances. Great sections collapsed, sending vast portions of the continent into the sea. Towns and cities drowned. Countless thousands died. Over the course of only a few years, Antonica was torn apart, broken into smaller subcontinents and scattered islands that would one day be called the Shattered Lands. This disaster came to be known as the Rending, and it heralded the Age of Cataclysms. Yet worse still was coming, for the Word of the Tranquil had not yet been fulfilled.

The Shattering

For uncounted ages the Moon of Luclin had hung in the night sky like a shining jewel. Long ago the seeds of Veeshan had fallen there as well, giving rise to creatures unlike any upon Norrath, and in later ages the goddess Luclin chose the lunar world as her refuge, where she lingered in shadow and watched the dealings of the other gods and their followers with secret amusement. Yet Luclin, like the other gods, had grown weary and wrathful over mortal intrusion into her domain, and with the divine withdrawal she too departed the physical world, leaving the peoples of Luclin to fend for themselves. The wizard spires that once carried travelers between Luclin and Norrath ceased to function, and Norrathians upon Luclin were trapped there while those upon Norrath were cut off in turn.

In the years that followed, Luclin fell into turmoil. The Vah Shir warred against the grimlings in a struggle of annihilation. Vampyres descended upon Katta Castellum, intent upon conquest. The Inquisitors of Seru saw their chance to destroy the Combine Loyalists and prepared for war. The shissar schemed and battled against the thought horrors while again considering conquest, and bereft of their goddess's guidance, the Akheva, once favored of Luclin, collapsed into renewed civil war. Amid these disasters, dedicated spellcasters, especially those within Shadow Haven, labored desperately to reopen the paths to Norrath. Their efforts came to nothing.

The greatest tragedy of the Age of Cataclysms was soon to unfold. In a single titanic explosion, the Moon of Luclin was destroyed utterly. Nearly every living thing upon it perished, and vast fragments of the broken moon were hurled through the heavens, some away into the void, others down toward Norrath. The cause of Luclin's destruction remains fiercely debated. Some worshippers of the goodly gods believed it a final act of Rallos Zek, holding the God of War somehow directly tied to the catastrophe. Others claimed that, with the gods' protection withdrawn, Luclin's ruin was the inevitable result of mortal arrogance and presumption, and that the moon was destroyed by sin. Still others blamed the factions of Luclin itself, arguing that some meddling with the wizard spires, the Combine Loyalists, the Inquisitors of Seru, or the Nexus Guardians must have triggered the destruction, though such accusations may reveal more about Norrathian familiarity with those groups than about the truth of the event.

Whether the Shattering was a natural disaster, a mortal blunder, divine judgment, or some darker convergence of causes, its consequences were immense. Fragments of the shattered moon rained upon Norrath, pummeling the land, killing tens of thousands, and laying waste to whole regions. The melting of Velious accelerated, and massive portions of that continent sank beneath the waves. Halas, still rebuilding after the orcish conquest, was destroyed forever. Some falling fragments pierced the very crust of Norrath, unleashing enormous volcanic eruptions and further wounding the world's fragile lands and seas. This, then, was the rain of fire spoken of by the Avatar of Tranquility.

Soon hundreds, then thousands, of refugees began to flee toward the promised safety of Qeynos and Freeport. As the Avatar had foretold, both cities survived largely intact, though each was badly damaged by meteors and rising seas. Yet as desperate masses clamored for entry, civil order in both city-states began to fray. The few remaining worshippers of the gods declared the catastrophe the final punishment for mortal faithlessness. Followers of the goodly powers begged their gods for salvation, while those who served darker deities either reveled in the destruction or launched bloody crusades to prove themselves worthy of being spared and allowed to begin anew. As the Age of Cataclysms wore on, hope began to fail, and once more all Norrath seemed poised upon the edge of destruction.

The Death of Lady Vox

Upon Velious the ancient dragons who preserved the old ways were cast into turmoil, for their continent was collapsing around them and even their tremendous powers could not halt the devastation. Indeed, the Rending and the Shattering together brought ruin so vast that the Claws of Veeshan, the old guard of dragonkind, were nearly eradicated. Into the resulting void stepped the Ring of Scale, the rebellious faction that had long chafed under the ancient laws of dragonkind. With many of the old leaders gone, the Ring seized authority and began plotting a return to the age when dragons ruled over all Norrath.

The first stage of their design was to seize the Orbs of Omnipotence, magical objects said by some to be the eggs of Lady Vox, held in stasis within her fastness in the Everfrost Peaks. Though damaged by the Rending, Vox's lair of Permafrost had endured, and there the ancient dragon priestess continued to scheme for freedom from the magical imprisonment that had bound her for centuries. The Drakota, the elite dragonkind appointed to watch over Lady Vox, had also suffered grievously from the Rending and the Shattering, and in the absence of stronger authority they turned to the Ring of Scale for leadership. Determined to restore the power of their race, the Ring commanded the surviving Drakota to enter Permafrost, slay Lady Vox, seize the Orbs of Omnipotence, and then hunt down and destroy her beloved, Lord Nagafen.

The battle that followed was terrible. Great portions of Permafrost were shattered, and countless mortal servants of Vox perished alongside many surviving Drakota. At last Lady Vox herself was slain. Yet the Drakota failed in part of their mission, for whether through error, treachery, or fate, a servant of Lord Nagafen reached Permafrost from Nagafen's prison in the Lavastorm Mountains and escaped with the Orbs of Omnipotence before Vox's death. From his fortress in Solusek's Eye, Lord Nagafen now plots vengeance, waiting for the day when he may answer those who murdered his beloved.

The Rebuilding

At long last, more than three decades after the Shattering began, fire ceased to fall from the heavens. The seas of Norrath calmed somewhat, and hope stirred again among the survivors. Once more the world had avoided utter destruction, and rebuilding began in both Freeport and Qeynos. Elsewhere the orcs who had escaped annihilation during the Battle of Defiance and the cataclysms that followed founded the new Deathfist Empire, and races long hidden within Subtunaria began to emerge, foremost among them a previously unknown people of small rat-folk who called themselves the ratonga.

As far as the peoples of the Shattered Lands knew, the other continents of Norrath had been destroyed, and broken subcontinents and scattered islands were believed all that remained of the old world. The Qeynos Hills were renamed Antonica in honor of the lost continent, a sorrowful tribute to what had been shattered and drowned, and slowly civilization began to return. In response to a small but steady influx of survivors, the two human city-states signed the Pact of Tserrin, declaring that all refugees would be transported first to the Isles of Refuge before being admitted into either city. With the founding of numerous small isles and the increasing order brought to the refugee tide, the rulers of Qeynos and Freeport at last declared the Age of Cataclysms ended.

And so, from ruin, exile, fire, and shattered stone, a new age began. The Age of Destiny had come at last.

Here the great history pauses, for the Age of Destiny is the age in which we ourselves now walk, and its pages are still being written by hands that have not yet grown still. Let this record stand as the foundation beneath every chronicle in the Codex, so that no soul we preserve is set adrift from the world that shaped them.

Seek. Discover. Endure.

Mordven Nocturnis Lorekeeper of the Veil Norrath Secret Society, Antonia Bayle