The Creation to the Great Victory
When the seven gods created the earth and the stars, the One made his humans. In the far northern lands, he formed the first from the snow and the earth, giving him the power of life, so that he might create more of his kind. Arlin Valinor, he was named, the First of Men, or Lyrrethea in the elvish tongue. The following details his story, as written by the earliest of scholars and priests who claim to have seen the birth of man through the eyes of the divine.
An excerpt from the Tales of Old detailing the birth of Arlin Valinor
Written by Mæro, earliest of priests
And so was born the Lyrrethea, first of man and son of the divine. From the snows, he rose like a tree from soil, and like a tree, his roots wound like vines through the earth. Stone became flesh, and then Arlin was given the breath of life, so that he might walk. Thereafter, he heard a fluttering on the winds, and saw a kingfisher sent from heaven, feathers like crystal in the sun.
It spoke, this kingfisher, for its leg was lame, and Arlin did listen. With its beak and its wings, it told him of the gods’ purpose, and that his creator was no more, banished to the Depths. Arlin wept, and his tears healed then the kingfisher’s leg. It took wing, ascending back to heaven, leaving the King of Life in the snow.
Arlin took heed then of what the gods had told him, and formed from the snow three children: two fair maidens and a warrior son. From them, humanity was born, and it spread across the world.
The Creation of the Great Houses of the Known World
Time passed, and soon, the north was populated, every corner of the snowy wastes touched by the hands of men. Villages were formed: small things of stone and rock, and from these villages came the great masters of each house: men and women who sought to journey away from the frozen cliffs and expanses of God’s Reach to find what lay beyond. Each waited, wondering when the time would be right to take their kin and leave, then one day, the news of a great Southern king was carried on the cold winds to their ears. Alvador Zorander, he was named, not one of Arlin’s descendants, but a man who came from somewhere else.
He fought great battles against the elves, the masters heard, driving them deep into the mountains of the Northernmost continent. While the rest of humanity had lain waiting in the snow, he had conquered all of Deyeron and Heraveil, becoming king of the Known World. And so, when he passed, they longed to claim what he had left behind, taking his place on the throne of Heraveil. To do this, however, they needed to take Velerin, his city, claiming thereafter his crown. The houses mobilized, moving South on their ships, racing to the coasts of Heraveil in an attempt to take the late king’s place. All, however, did not make it.
Luthor Vendyros, the Dragon, saw the futility of continuing to the West, for once there, he would have to fight all his fellows. Instead, he turned his ships further South, where the largest continent of Deyeron lay, abandoned and free for his taking. Upon landing, he declared the continent a kingdom, dubbing it Riverfall after the great river that divided the land. Construction of Seaview Citadel commenced, and Luthor established his house as the richest and most powerful in the Known World.
Amandyl Starmane, upon arriving on the shores of Heraveil, was halted by two of his fellows: men from other houses. They spoke to him, warning him that continuing further towards Velerin would result in his death, for his kin was not powerful enough to defend themselves. They would be slaughtered, thrown to the Great Bears of the Eastern Mountains. Amandyl took heed, departing from Heraveil with his ships and men, leaving the rest of the northern forces to journey Westward.
He imagined that his luck had turned ill, that he would have to travel back to God’s Reach to live in the wastes once more, until upon the horizon he saw a great continent rising from the sea. After pondering, he turned his fleet towards it, landing on its shores and finding them uninhabited. Following the suggestions of his wife and son, he claimed the country as his own, naming it Windspeak, for there always seemed to be a gale stirring the cold winds.
House Sharpe, under the command of Cyran, The Wolf of the North, rode in haste to Velerin, two smaller houses close behind. Upon reaching the great city, Cyran devised a plot to rid himself of his pursuers, and enacted it once they caught up to him. He told them the city was taken, that he would be turning his forces around to go back to the North. The two houses believed him, and turned on each other there beneath the walls of the city, slaughtering each other in a battle to see who would take the throne from the usurper who held it now.
Once they were dead, or close enough to make no matter, Cyran rode ahead to the gates of the city, finding them open and awaiting his arrival. Inside, Alvador Zorander’s leaderless armies welcomed him, giving him he crown almost freely, and Cyran Sharpe became the new king of Velerin.
His new place on the throne yielded less than he would have hoped for, however, for he soon discovered the continents had been taken by his rivals. Heraveil, also, was now devided, split into sovereign kingdoms and duchies, each ruled by one of the men or women who had fallen victim to Cyran’s ploy.