The History of House Drokoth

House Drokoth and the lineage of Koth (Kryptonelthraxus the Gold Dragon) Kryptonelthraxus, was part of the very last clutch of three that were ever laid by the Very Old Gold Dragon Drokothar’bekisnhlekil out of The Platinum Dragon Bahumet. Nestled in the comforting fires of the Haruhekandarastrix‘yuidmhypasht, or Eastern Dragon Graveyard in the common tongue of man. He was the first of his nest mates to brake through his shell after 718 days, one day before the second son and eight days before the last daughter of Drokothar’bekisnhlekil. As he grew older and proved himself in nearly every skirmish of the Gods War until he became known by many monikers including Kryptonelthrakus the Strong, Kryptonelthrakus the Wise and Kryptonelthrakus the Charismatic, though all of his kind new him best as eldest son of the Leader of the Gold Dragons. He had survived the wars and proven himself on the field of battle hundreds of times. Fate had foretold that he would find a mate whose beauty was only matched by her prowess and success in battle but would also be the equal to Kryptonelthrakus. The prophecy specified he would fall in love instantly and be with her from the days before the war came to an end and their love would become legendary and span the centuries. Prophecy also specified he would be called Kryptonelthrakus Munthrek’maekrix, a pejorative term meaning "of the humans" though no one really understood what that would mean. As it happened “Kryptonelthrakus of the humans, known simply by the anagram Koth in his human guise, to lead them to victory during the final days of The Godswar. (Incidentally Koth in draconic, besides being part of his mother's name, was also disturbingly close to meaning of both “demon” or “angel” depending on how it was pronounced, resulting in many minor jests among his kind at his expense.) As a man he met and fell instantly in love as the prophecy had foretold but not exactly as originally foreseen. He had fallen in love with the High Priestess of Anulil named Enheduana. For Koth, who had chosen a path to mate only for life, such a thing as this meant he would leave no children of the egg. He married Enheduana with the blessing of her father and based on his own valorous actions during the war. Eventually after much discussion among the Council of Wyrms he was allowed to do so through the support of the ruler of the council and chief among Gold Dragons of that age; his mother Drokothar’bekisnhlekil. This did create a bit of an issue at the time as a dragon marrying with a human of one of the first tribes shortly after the Gods-War had never been done before. Enheduana though was the daughter of the king, a high priestess of the victorious Anulil himself and selected by the king of the gods to wield The Greatsword of Enlil-Anu; a claymore of her people and powerful artifact gifted with powers by the King of the Gods; Anulil. Her leadership on the field against Tiamat more than justified her worth even in the eyes of the Council of Wyrms. Her father was King Sharrukin and her mother was his life-mate Queen Arwia. Although neither would see their daughter wedded as within weeks of their marriage both of Enheduana’s parents were killed in a full out attack by an invading army of orcs and giants led by a powerful Annunaki wizard. The invaders were sent retreating back over the plains and out to sea by Koth, Enheduana and the Elves of Lamsaeelyarka or “Eastwood Highpath of the Golden Dragon” in the old elvish tongue commonly referred to now as Aaledon – the Heart of Elvindom in the Realms. But the damage had been done and after lighting the funeral pyres and concluding the death rites the two were now King and Queen of the human lands from the blue-green sea to the mountains of the ancient wyrms and the forests of the Elvin lands. A mere two years after their coronations they settled the first human city of Temenoi-Tepe or “Circular Compund Hill” atop a plateau overlooking the sea in the shadows of the mountains and at the edge of the forest. As time went on it became obvious that two things were happening, Enheduana was not aging and they could not have children. Feeling lucky enough just to be with each other in this time of peace after the war years they put it behind them and went about the hunter-gatherer ways of her people. The Ageless King and Queen of the people became what they were known as while the decades passed into centuries and generations of their people grew and died with their benevolent rulership. Kryptonelthrakus celebrated his 450th year during the final days of the War of the Gods that had lasted 15 years. He married Enheduana his Queen 5 years later to mark the first day of the first year of the modern calendar and 30 years later founded Temenoi-Tepe upon the ruins of Esalia, the splendid. 50 years later, in year 80 of the Common Era (C.E.) he and his Queen became known as the Ageless Ones. During this period in time the 42 tribes of man had either coalesced or died out leaving only pockets of humanity throughout the Realms searching for their way in a world where the gods, though they still walked among them, no longer lived among them. The old races that survived the War of the Gods also founded their own lands, cities and empires during this time. The animosities between the great feuding empires were founded during these years and many great racial wars erupted especially between elves, dwarves, orcs, dragons and giants as they all battled for territory and the remnants of powers now receding from The Realms. This would continue to the present day. For the next 703 years Koth and his Queen lived simple but rewarding lives among their people of the plains of Temonoi-Teppe. Nearly a century later Dro, son of Koth and Enheduana, is born upon Temonoi-Tepe nine months after the Greatsword of Enlil-Anu is stolen by a Nydeisian. The celebration of life is short lived however as Temonoi-Tepe is attacked by the forces of an Annunaki and in the ensuing battle Enheduana is killed. Koth is forced out of human form & nearly Killed but flees and is found by his mother the great wyrm Drokothar’bekisnhlekil who is herself on her way to the Dragon Graveyard She helps her mortally wounded son along with her and they eventually pass on together to protect Haruhekandarastrix‘yuidmhypasht. With the death of all but the lone babe the people disperse into old tribal rivalries the Nydeisians returned en mass to take by force the lands where the gods themselves had once lived among mortals. Some survivors would settle anew far to the north in the lands now known as Hauth and Ethigoviel and some would remain in the wilds of would become the Commonwealth believing in a prophesy that their kings would return one day. Dro was taken by the arch mage of the Wizard school in modern day Nydeis as his own and given the name Alarion Solarii 24 years later Alarion Solarii (Dro) finds the Great Claymore of Enheduana and sneaks away, leaving Nydeis to find the truth about his heritage and thus starts the BEGINNING OF ADVENTURES of Alarion Solarii 4 years later Dro returns to Temenoi-Tepe with The Greatsword and is visited by Anulil. Dro rebuilds his family home and marries his true love The lineage of House Drokoth begins. First children of House Drokoth are born – twins. Dro travels the lands ensuring that wherever there is suffering or those in need of help he would try to rights the wrongs and stand against the evils of the world becoming a true hero to the people 16 years later The free tribes unite under the banner of House Drokoth The first Solarii War begins 25 years later The last Drokoth child is born After reclaiming the lands of the north (present day Borderlands to North of the Mountains from the Nydeisians, the first peace is struck between the warring nations. 82 years later Dro passes on the Greatsword to his eldest son; the new King. The Dragon Graveyard is discovered by Dro and his true history is revealed to him by the spirit of his father as Dro too passes away to find his love and his parents in the afterlife. THUS ENDS TO ADVENTURES of Alarion Solarii 9 87 years later 10 94 years later 11 14 years later Thousands cheered in the streets as their first child Dro was born. Named after Kryptonelthrakus’ own mother; Drokothar’bekisnhlekil, or “Angelic Deathkiller“ in draconic. As civility settled into their lives and their city and people prospered they were pleased their son had begun to grow up in such a place. Rewrite for Character Background of Dro son of Koth AKA Alarion Solarri Dro was born the son of Koth and Enheduana. Kryptonelthrakus, now known as Koth, a name incidentally that in draconic is disturbingly close to meaning “demon” or “angel” depending on how it’s pronounced, was in human guise during the Godswar. Though born of the very last clutch of three ever laid by the Very Old Gold Dragon Drokothar’bekisnhlekil out of The Platinum Dragon Bahamut he met and fell in love with a human woman, the High Priestess of Enlil-Anu and daughter of King Sharrukin and his life-mate Queen Arwia, her name was Enheduana. Koth had long decided he would choose to mate only for life, this meant he left no children of the egg when he married Enheduana with the blessing of her father (and based on his own actions during the war he was permitted to do so by the Gold Dragon Queen of that age; his mother, though this did create much controversy on the Isle of Io and among the Council of Wyrms at the time as so shortly after the Gods-War with their race depleted a mating between the two races had never before been known. Enheduana though was the daughter of the tribe’s king, a high priestess and selected by the king of the gods to wield The Greatsword of Anulil; a claymore crafted by the best of her people and empowered as an artifact by Anulil. Her leadership on the field of battle against Tiamat's forces more than justified her worth and it was agreed. Within weeks of their marriage, both of Enheduana’s parents were killed in a full out attack by an invading army led by a powerful Annunaki wizard. The invaders were sent retreating back over the plains and out to sea by Koth, Enheduana and the Elves of Lamsaeelyarka or “Eastwood Highpath of the Golden Dragon” in the old elvish tongue commonly referred to now as Aaledon. But the damage had been done and after lighting the funeral pyres and concluding the death rites the two were now King and Queen of the human lands from the blue-green sea to the mountains of the ancient wyrms and the forests of the Heart of Elvindom in the Realms. Many centuries later they gave birth to their one and only child, a son who they named Dro in honor of his dragon grandmother who would soon step down as Queen to walk among her fore-bearers in the Dragon's Graveyard. But fate has cruel sense of irony. Born at the city of Temonoi-Tepe the newborn Prince of the human tribes was to young to remember the events that followed. The forces of the descendant of the terror that first drove from the lands at the birth of human civilization attacked the capital. Enheduana was killed, her son taken from her arms by a handmaid assassin. Koth led the defenses as best he could but without Enheduana's Blade against such a overwhelming force that included many creatures from the lower planes, he is forced out of human form and nearly killed if not for the sacrifice of his most loyal human friends and followers. Mortally wounded he is able to flee and is found by his mother Drokothar’bekisnhlekil who is on her way to the Dragon Graveyard as well. She helps her son make it the rest of the journey and they pass on together. The people disperse to their old tribes, some establish new tribes, nations and clans far to the north in the lands of Hauth and Ethigoviel. Those that stayed behind became slaves to the Nydeisian Overlords though some remained to live and fight however they could in the wilds of would become the Commonwealth believing in a prophesy that told after the fall of Temonoi-Tepe that their kings would return one day bearing the Claymore Anulil had given Enheduana in the Godswar; The Kingsblade of Rhigolia. It was at this time that Dro, and the blade, were taken by the supreme arch mage, the very Annunaki that had destroyed his family. For 17 years he would grow up known as Alarion Solarri, the gifted most promising wizard of his age, the adopted son of the Master of the Wizard school known as the Academy in modern day Nydeis until the night of his graduation where he finds he has a secret past those around him have lied and even killed to protect. Retrieving what he needed to survive along with a Claymore he found hidden in his adopted father's study he sets out on his adventure and his story begins...

The Untherian Epics (Excerpts from The Platinum Dragon and Mithril Guard Field Manual also scripted throughout the main Ampitheatre in Andril or, DC 20 Knowledge History Check) The Forging of The Kingsblade (not yet penned) A Heroine of the Godswar (not yet penned) The Marriage of Enheduana and Koth (not yet penned) The Rise of the Legend of the Ageless Ones (not yet penned) The Fall of The Tribes of Man (not yet penned) The Founding of House Drokoth (not yet penned) A New Day, A New King and The Long Night (not yet penned) The Nydeisian Pact OR Severing of Heredity and Succession (not yet penned) The Prophesy: Foretelling The Return of the Rightful King (not yet penned) The Age of Cruelty (not yet penned) The Return of The Prince (not yet penned) The Exodus of Evil (not yet penned) The War of Darkness (not yet penned) The Concordant of Peace OR The Return of Anulil (not yet penned) The Founding of The Commonwealth (not yet penned) A Return to Heredity and Succession (not yet penned) The Time of Peace (not yet penned) Story of Old Firebreath and the Flaming Mountain Story of the Battle for Brechin The Usurper of Athon First Visit of the Elf King of Aaledon The Borderlands War The Curse of the Three Beasts The Fallen One The Call of The Bronze Gauntlet The Harbinger Tree Three Books and The Coliseum In a dark age, when terror was everywhere and heroes were few, the myth of Unther Drokoth, lost son and heir to a kindom of long ago when men walked among the gods, resonated as the ultimate clash between good and evil between a valiant warrior and a myriad of monstrous enemies. The legend of Unther grew from inspired stories based in fact. A warrior king who lost the woman he loved in order to rebuild the nation his ancestors once ruled. The following are the accounts of these collected stories known as the Untherian Epic, the legends told of Unther Drokoth, born of the kings of the old and transported across space and time to fulfill his destiny, free his people and bring in a bright new age of peace. These tales tell of how one man, not a god, demigod or titan, but a flesh and blood mortal, could confront the demons of the dark, dragons of legend and fiends out of hell to bring forth the first great age. An age centered on the city founded by Unther and his High Lords, an idea protected behind the shimmering Adamantite walls of Andril, capital of the Commonwealth, which sits upon the holy fields of Esalia where once only the gods lived, died and were buried in and around a great tower that stretched from the Middle of the Realms out to the Heavens and down into the Underworld. The Untheric Epic and the oral legends that accompany them, whether of the real man or the myth, hold one thing clear; Unther Drokoth was bravery personified. He embodied the best in a man, a father and King who had a warrior’s life and a hero’s death. These are the tales and myths and legends surrounding Unther, High Lord of The Commonwealth, Champion and Protector of The Realms.

Story of Old Firebreath and the Flaming Mountain (Where Unther slays “Old Firebreath” Parinath-ixen-charir and annexes the Southern Wyrmdom for The Commonwealth) As the miners continued to dig into the older caverns of the Northern Andril Mountains their tunnels burst through to a great cave filled with a hoard of gold, armor and art at the base of a slow flowing lava stream. They awakened the slumbering dragon that its predecessors had called home for countless centuries. Many a fireside story of the legendary Old Firebreath was still being told to frighten the young at that time. A great red dragon descended from a lineage that traced back to Garyx, the great red wyrm deity of ruin, devastation and flame. Parinath-ixen-charir or Old Firebreath killed those who dared disturb its slumber and invade the home of his ancestors. Now that he was awake though the dragon followed the lava flow to the entrance of the volcano of what was known as Mount Ixverthicha in the time of the gods although we now call it Fire Mountain . Not far away, in the ample fields below Old Firebreath made a quick meal of many a poor traveler that crossed his path and when they were not to be found he turned on to the livestock in the farmer’s fields. The volcano, dormant until Old Firebreath broke through it’s crust, is now known as Flame Mountain and it was his exit that started the billowing of ash and steam we still see from it to this day. It was then that the people called for Corelon Unther Drokoth to investigate the rumours coming from those fleeing their mountain homes and the tales told by workers refusing to enter the mines. So it was that Unther confronted Old Firebreath atop the basin of the stirring volcano of Flame Mountain demanding the dragon move on, join as an ally of The Commonwealth or meet him in battle for control of these lands and to answer for the destruction and death it had caused the previous day after awakening. Parinath-ixen-charir of the Southern Wyrmdom loomed down at this upstart High Lord of a place the dragon had never before heard of. Parinath-ixen-charir’s great and powerful voice echoed through the mountains as he told tales of his great accomplishments and who his sires were. After this short discourse Old Firebreath wasted no time informing the Coronal of the Commonwealth that this was his domain by right of strength and there would be no alliance for he didn't recognize any authority save his own in these lands and never would. With a great flap of his mighty wings Old Firebreath charged down the Paladin, attacking with tooth and claw. The battle lasted only seconds. The Old red dragon charged in with a ferocious bite attack trying to end the man with teeth sharper than blades and stronger than steel. Not caught unawares Unther rolled with the assault and glanced off the left side of great beast’s maw bruising his ribs by the shear force of the blow. However Unther was a smart warrior and used the dragon’s overconfidence to his advantage for it left itself open for a counterattack at the long neck of the creature. Unther, calling upon all the divine might at his disposal and all the magic of Enheduana's Blade, struck quickly and deeply with massive blows that cut deep gouges into and nearly through the neck of Old Firebreath. The dragon saw too late that this was no ordinary knight, retreating it’s head back it sprung forward once more in desperation and anger spitting out fires hotter than the sun. It was then that Old Firebreath realised his doom was upon him, within moments the High Lord of Andril charged through the flames feinting to the right and with a precise blow to the opposite side he separated the head of the red dragon called Parinath-ixen-charir of the Southern Wyrmdom completely from its gargantuan frame. The flames of Old Firebreath burned no more as Unther Drokoth, Coronal of the Andrillian Commonwealth, High Lord of Andril and now through victory of combat the true ruler of the former Southern Wyrmdom, padded down the last of the stray sparks that found their way about his armour. He sheathed the Sword of the Ageless Ones and respectively honoured the fallen dragon with the proper prayers of it’s kind, even to the point of making sure his bones were laid to rest in those secret places where only dragons go. It is said that on the day the bones of Old Firebreath were laid to rest Flame Mountain erupted as a final fiery and destructive farewell from Garyx himself. 28 months and a day later the children of Parinath would join the forces of Nydeis to retake their lands in The Battle for Brechin.

Story of the Battle for Brechin (Where Nydeisian forces led by the traitor Jonaical and the 13 dragons of Parinath attack the city of Brechin) Jonaical was born the eldest son of the Nydeisian colonial King Pusipon Bedlam of Brechin prior to the coming of The Commonwealth. During the last great battle of the Dominion War he watched as his father was killed in battle and his city taken from him at the hands of what he called “The Andrillian Barbarians”. Captured along with the rest of the colonists after the battle he was given the same choice as all that had fought in the Dominion War; Return to The Principalities of Nydeis, Exile with the traitor Venon, or build a new life by swearing fealty to The Commonwealth. Jonaical whole-heartedly accepted the challenge to rebuild and became one of the most prominent citizens in Brechin through his own efforts to rebuild after the war. His efforts to keep the peace after the War among the remaining colonists that chose to stay and uniting them in the efforts to rebuild Brechin did not go unnoticed and was even held in esteem and recognised as one who exemplified the best notion of the philosophy of The Commonwealth by the High Council in Andril. After much debate and his narrow victory in the free elections Jonaical was instilled as Seneschal of Brechin. But unknown to all, Jonaical had for years secretly used his influence to bring in more and more Nydeisians to Brechin, not to help build a Utopic Commonwealth but rather to set the stage for the destruction of it. His plans accelerated with the death of Old Firebreath and his alliance with the dragon’s offspring to bring an end to The Andrillian Barbarians for what they had done to their lands and the deaths of their patriarchs. So it was that 28 months after Old Firebreath had been slain the traitor Jonaical captured Brechin in a surprise attack on the Brechin Guard. The city fell in a single night to Jonaical with the aid of those loyal to him within the city walls, a fleet of 30 Longboats filled with 3600 Nydeisian warriors from the Principalities, and the might of the 13 dragons of Parinath. Hearing of the coup Unther amassed the strongest force he could muster immediately; his Knights of the Platinum Dragon, and set off to Brechin. On the way there he sendt his winged horse Aurvandil to gather his herd and meet him at Brechin in 7 days time. Riding his Warhorse in front of 1094 Mounted Knights of the Platinum Dragon and their pack horses, the force makes excellent time, meeting up with 600 of the remaining routed forces of Brechin in the foothills of the Western Andril Mountains they arrive in Brechin in only seven days time. Now if there is one thing that dragons find more irresistible than the taste of humans and elves it is that of Unicorns and Pegassi. Knowing this Unther devised a great trick to assist in the assault. Using the herd of Aurvandil as bait, the 10 pegassi drew out a group of 5 of the dragons from the city to chase them across the fields towards the mountains. As they approach from the West Aurvandil and his herd scattered sending each one of the 5 in different directions as the chase began. Unknown to the blood of Old Firebreath Unther himself sat upon Aurvandil masked in the cloaking invisibility of the Shadow Armor he had taken from the horde of Parinath and when the first of them came within range the High Lord and his mount changed direction and charged headlong towards the unsuspecting creature. As the first of the dragons bit at Aurvandil Unther’s form blurred into action and visibility striking the creatures head with fierce blows that killed the beast before it’s huge form hit the ground below. With the trap sprung the remaining four roared in anger and began flying towards the golden armoured winged horse with the black rider that felled one of their kin. In the distance the roars were answered and the remaining 7 took to the air. Unther’s plan had separated each perfectly and he would be able to take on the four closest to him individually for a short time before their kin would be able to assist, and that is all the time he needed. Diving and banking towards the next dragon as it bursts a cone of flame Aurvandil deftly evades the flames and allows Unther to attack. After two fly by attacks the dragon plummets from the sky to it’s death as it’s wings torn to pieces by the Sword of Enheduana. The third dragon’s head was severed before it could even send a claw in their direction. This left one coming in from below and one from above as the other seven closed in rapidly across the skies between the Coronal of the Commonwealth and the captured city of Brechin. Covered in blood the paladin dove at the approaching dragon coming up from below but met only flame. Unther channelled his divine healing powers into Aurvandil as they fell from the sky, the dragon upon them within moments of recovering from the fall it’s sword like teeth and claws ripping into the winged horse without a second thought. Too late it realised it’s error as the black rider eviscerated it while it tore into feather and hide. The last of the dragons seeing four of its brothers still falling from the sky stopped and retreated back to join with the ones coming on. Of the 13 spawn of Parinath only nine remained now, less than a mile in the distance, deciding on what to do as the last of the ones slain of their kin struck the ground below. Wasting little time Unther began to race towards the forest at the base of the mountains, the 9 gradually gaining on him and his winged horse until only a few hundred feet behind as he reached the shadowed canopy and landed beneath the protection of old trees. The 9 arrived a few moments later laying waste to the forest where he had landed with their terrible flame. The one dragon farthest behind its brothers suddenly realised a small creature had appeared on it’s back. In the next instant Unther had sliced off the dragon’s left arm and it fell to the ground unconscious and dying. The remaining eight charged towards this tiny attacker but when they arrived they found that no one there. Roaring in frustration and anger the lead dragon shouted “Face us slayer of Parinath the Old, face us so that we may destroy you!” As if on cue several hundred feet further into the forest where the canopy began to clear Aurvandil emerged and rapidly began gained altitude as the winged horse took to the air. The eight dragons did likewise though when the last one did he too felt a small weight atop his back and roared. Twisting his long neck he let loose his flame, engulfing his back and the thing that was sliving into him as he did so, crashing to the ground along with the smouldering blur of Unther Drokoth. As they both began to gain their footing a quick thrust of the Sword of the Ageless Ones put another dragon into the afterlife as the rest of the dragons broke off their pursuit of the pegasus and began to turn in a wide arc back around to the action below. Seven of the thirteen now remained and Unther was almost out of tricks. Almost, but not entirely. As the remaining flight descended on his position each of them was doing so from different angles and heights due to the large turning arcs they required to get back to his position. Using the power of his sword to transport himself a few hundred feet at a time he began to hop from the back of one dragon to another, engaging each for a few seconds, getting in a few strikes through flame and bite attacks, before the sword would whisk him away to another. This type of hit and run attack created mass confusion among the dragons until after nearly a minute before they realised what he was doing and gathered together in the clearing. Of course by that time only 4 of them remaining and one of them so injured he could not fly. After a few seconds the sword transported him next to the injured dragon but they were ready and flames erupted from all the dragons again and again, bites and claws and wings and tails slapping and slashing gnarling and biting until only one dragon and Unther, completely spent in magic and divine power, stood face to face. No words were said, none were necessary, only one of them would remain standing at the end of this they both knew. Flame erupted from the dragon and screaming in pain and effort, the fire burning his lungs and flesh Unther continued his onslaught through the pain and in one mighty final blow plunged the Sword of Enheduana, the Sword of the Ageless Ones, into the beast’s mighty chest to it’s very heart. In under an hour Unther Drokoth, High Lord of Andril and Coronal of the Commonwealth had proven again his right to rule as Lord of the Southern Wyrmdom with the drops of the last of the lifeblood of the 13 Dragons of Parinath-ixen-charir. With the dragons defeated Unther turned his attention to their lair to camp for the night. Sending a small party of his best riders towards Brechin to discover the strengths and weaknesses of the forces within the city now allied with the traitorous Joniacal. The attack on the city was launched with the following sunrise. Using a Cloak of Etherealmess discovered in the cave lair, Unther led a surprise attack against the main gates after receiving information from his scouts sent to reconnoitre the city defences. With the entire force still energized with his wins against the dragons they fought valiantly and won against the forces of Joniacal sending 554 Nydeisians to their graves and the remainder, along with Joniacal, to their ships back to the Principalities. The victory came at the cost of 75 honoured dead heroes of the Platinum Dragons. After the battle the Brechin Guard would return to their families and were told they would retain the services of half the Knights under the command of General Agolar Alum to help secure the city and rebuild. Although the city needed a new Seneschal now that Bedlam had retreated across the seas with the crown of Brechin, Unther ordered new elections would be held only when the city was ready to sustain itself, General Alum would remain as Castellan to oversee the recovery until that time. After finding no eggs amongst their lairs, Unther would take care to bring the bodies of the children of Old Firebreath back with him to join their patron in the Dragon’s Graveyard before returning to Andril with the remainder of his forces.

The Usurper of Athon (Where Aman Kahune of Athon challenges for the right to rule The Commonwealth. Formation of The Borderlands and Peace between House Drokoth and the lineage of Athon) In ages past, before the coming of the colonists, in the time after the Godswar, the Deluge and fall of Esalia, the City of Athon held the last remnants of power over the realms of the tribes of man. The Kings of Athon all trace their lineage back to these days and the first Kings from among the survivors. With the coming of Andril it became clear that a new bloodline, closer to the source of the Ageless Ones themselves had come to reoccupy Esalia, fulfilling a prophecy uncovered by Alarion Drokoth and leading to the birth of The Commonwealth after delivering the people out of slavery from the control of The Principalities of Nydeis. Aman Lahune, a slave under colonial rule is the rightful heir and King of Athon and by definition the realms of the tribes of man. To some in power the coming of Andril and the sons of Drokoth are seen as illegitimate to the rule of the people and what is now called The Commonwealth. Although the people loved their new heroes that saved them, the nobles have been split since the beginning on the manner of their support. In the months following the Battle of Brechin the calls for a review into the legitimacy of the crown began to gather throughout the halls of The Commonwealth until coming to a head with Amon Lahune stating; “By divine right it is with a sad heart that I must denounce the rule of House Drokoth as circumspect and decree from this day forth, King Amon of Athon reigns true providence over The Commonwealth.” With that declaration the nobles of The Commonwealth were forced to choose sides between Unther of Andril or Amon of Athon and the whole of The Commonwealth began to uproar that civil war may break out. After consulting the Laws of Succession the issue of Unther being the head of the monarchy rested on the adoption of Primogeniture or hereditary succession through Proximity of Blood. It was argued that Amon’s claim was valid as he was the closest by Primogeniture as the heir to Athon while Unther, as the great grandson of Koth clearly was the closest by Proximity of Blood. As the two sides looked to be divided into the new and old guard on the issue Unther came up with a diplomatic solution. A co-regency dividing the rule of the Commonwealth between Amon in the North and Andril in the South, until such time as either Unther or Amon passed on. At that time The Commonwealth would again be united under a single monarch who would rule for all time based off of either Blood or Estate. The Andrillian Commonwealth would retain power in the South, and Rhigolia, the traditional name of the Nation of Athon, in the North. After a few weeks of law-makers fighting over verbiage several large documents were produced; peace accords, mutual aggression pacts, mercantile and trade agreements, and the binding signatures from both Unther and Amon on the conditions of the settlement. After the two exchanged signatures and a hearty handshake, peace returned once more. Where once just The Commonwealth existed, now two nations, Rhigolia and Andrilar, stood until the gods decided if succession of the whole would go to the heirs of The Commonwealth of Amon or The Andrillian Commonwealth.

First Visit of the Elf King of Aaledon (Where King Merilthas of Aaledon is kidnapped on his return journey home from Andril by Lycaon first of the Lycans and 48 of his sons resulting in the war between the four nations of The Andrillian Commonwealth, The Realm of Rhigolia, The Heart of Elvendom and The Forces of Yrdahn known as the Crusades.) The elves of Aaledon are not known to act quickly or rashly in anything they do. So it was a sense of shock that echoed in the Spire of Andril when it was announced that Amheldwyr Nallfinrorrion Merilthas of Aaledon, King of Elves in the Realms, would be coming to meet for five days with Coronal Unther Drokoth concerning the recent loss of trade routes and the future of the two neighbouring nations. No expense was spared to ensure King Merilthas and his entourage only the best from their host. After 5 days and nights of talking, listening, compromising and acceptance, the two rulers become quick friends and comrades who wished to bring that same sense of mutual support to the people of their nations. The following morning King Amheldwyr departs along with his enterouge of 50 noble elves with a vow of a long peace between The Andrillian Commonwealth and the Heart of Elvendom. Unknown to any, by the end of the day, all 50 noble elves will be dead and the King of Elves will become a prisoner in the mountain complex of Lycaon; First of the Lycans. As the ancient stories go, some time between the end of the godswar and the great duluge there lived a King in the lands of Dannor with fifty sons from many wives. It is said that the god he worshiped would visit his home once a year to break bread and bed one of Lycaon’s daughters named Callisto who he fancied and had already born a child named Arcas. Lycaon’s sons were the most nefarious and carefree of all the people in the realms and in one of their antics they accidentally killed their brother Nyctimus. When a man came to visit later that same day claiming to be the god Lycaon set about to test if it was truly him by serving him a dish of his slaughtered and dismembered son, in order to see whether he was truly omniscient. In return for these gruesome deeds it is said the god transformed Lycaon into the form of a wolf, and killed Lycaon's forty nine other sons with lightning bolts; the slaughtered child, Nyctimus was restored to life and renamed Akhkharu. This was done because Callisto and her sisters Dia and Psophis by traditional law required a living male heir to succeed in order to retain their noble status, and the god could not stomach the thought of his son Arcas falling into squalor. So it was at that time long ago when the first lycanthropes and vampires appeared in the realms as father and sons of the house of Lycaon. It was this same Lycaon who now had taken the elf king captive, and fanned the fires of war throughout the region, waiting in his cave deep in the AndrilMountains for his acts to spark the fire to burn the nations of the west for his sons and him to rule. After tracking down the location of the cave with the help of a Lupine Marquis and his loyal winged steed Aurvandil Unther decided it would be best if he entered the cave alone. With his mace Anusharur, the shield Ancile as well as the black battle armor of plate forged by Weland to protect him from nearly any blow, the sword of Enheduana ready within it’s scabbard to unleash the power of his legacy, an ashen wand upon his belt , a ring of the faerie allowing him to see even in the deepest darkness worn upon his left hand, and a deceptively empty backpack that held much upon his back, he prayed to the divine powers to help him accomplish his task and then made his way into the darkness of the cave to fulfil his purpose and retrieve the King of Elves from the claws of Lycaon. Of course by doing so Unther understood he was walking straight into Lycaon’s trap. As he made his way down the long corridor to the main chamber, the son’s of Lycaon spotted him, and collapsed the entrance down upon him. His Lupin tracker and loyal mount could only pray he had made his way within the cave as the entrance now billowed with nothing but dust and dirt from the force of the cave-in. It was only through the magic of the Sword of the Ageless Ones that Unther was able to escape death from this trap, magically shifting through the fabric of space and reappearing in the great cavern beyond where Lycaon and his forty eight sons await with hand and a half swords made by Venon’s own hands and bows fashioned from the trees of ichor in the plains of pain in Yrdahn. As he appeared they immediately sent hundreds of arrows flying towards the lone rescuer, but this proved ineffective against the protection of his magical shield. Drawing the blades of Venon the battle was met head on and encountered the divine power of Unther’s mace Sharur. Ancyor, Lycaon’s tenth son was the first to under a flurry of rapid blows from Sharur. Physeus, Peucetis, Oenotrus and Harpalycus fell within the next minute. It was then that Genetor pulled back and yelled to his brothers, “Discard the swords brothers, we shall rip this fool apart with claw and teeth!” to which Lycaon added “And the one that brings me his head will be crowned first prince! Show him no mercy! Prove that you are truly Lycan Lords!” Although unable to look at the crowd of Lycaon’s sons around him as his attention remained fixed countering the swords of Socleus, Eumetes and Harpaleus, the undeniable noise of over two score sword dropped on stone, cracking and reshaping of skin and bones accompanied by the screams that turned to growling howls all around him meant only one thing to Unther, the sons of Lycaon had transformed into their cursed forms; werewolf lords of the lycans. It seemed to matter little that their brothers had fallen, and perhaps it did not, as unless Unther was victorious against them all and was able to cut out the heart and sever the heads each knew that any who fell among the brothers would not die but simply be returned from the dead with the rise of the morning sun as the old legends say. When Harpaleus fell, followed by Eumetes and finally Socleus, it seemed like the world paused for a moment as Unther saw the large werewolves massed all about him just out of range of his mace in a semicircle three or four of them deep while he remained in a strong defensive position with his back against the cave wall. They waited. They sized up their prey. Unther acted quickly to drop his magic shield and place his mace back in it’s ring on his belt giving himself just enough time to draw Enheduana's Blade in case they charged in. They did not. Instead they waited, pacing at the fringes. Unther began to understand, the divine spells he cast upon himself before entering battle would not last much longer and though he was one of the strongest of men in the Realms without the advantage of his enhanced divine strength the task ahead seemed nearly insurmountable without it. Somehow Genetor had understood this advantage and was holding his brothers from attacking until he would be at his weakest. It was at this time that a brilliant plan came to Unther. Holding Enheduana’s Blade in his left hand he drew forth the ashen wand with his right before any of the beasts could react. Fire suddenly engulfed nearly half of the sons of Lycaon as he pointed the wand at the largest group, then summoning the power of the sword Unther slipped into the fold between reality again, this time stepping out at the opposite side of the cavern several hundred feet away. Again and again and again and again fire erupted among the charging Werewolf Lords, and again and again and again and again he wait until they were almost upon him before transporting to the other end of the room farthest from the charging pack. With the transporting magic of the sword almost spent he stopped with but one more time to travel between the the spaces of the world until the sword’s magic recovered. Unther stood his ground as the smouldering creatures came down upon him in a flood of fur, teeth and claws. Though none had been killed by the fireballs, to this day it is the reason that wolves and werewolves fear the fire to this day, for the pain and disfigurement that was sent upon their kin that day still lingers in their memories. Unther no longer knew which of the brothers he was fighting against, for in their hybrid form only those of the pack could know one werewolf from another. As his greatsword shimmered from adamantine to mithril and then steel it shifted lastly to silver as his blows began to rain down upon the massing pack of teeth claw, fur and blood, remaining a blade of silver as he struck down more of the creatures. Then it happened, Unther had been unable to stop all the attacks against him from getting through his defences, although most were calculated and minor scratches and bites, until after extending to far one of the larger beasts tore off the armor on his left arm along with the rest of the arm underneath. His left arm had been severed off completely by the attack and his greatsword fell to the ground as the beast howled in victory. Putting the pain aside Unther began to lash continuously with the flames and now many of the lycans that remained had began to notice the bodies of many brothers were piling up as they fell over in a smouldering and sickening heaps. Again he continued to lash out with the magic of the ashen wand even as more attacks came at him and he tried the best he could to avoid them but without a shield or weapon to parry them many more were finding their way through his armor. He would need to act fast if he was going to survive this. Unfortunately all he could do was continue to barrage the beasts with fire, over and over until he was covered in hundreds of bloodless wounds and his divine strength was no more. The beasts began to fall as minutes passed by as the air burned around Unther. First one then four then a dozen, by the time the beasts understood what was happening and moved farther out of range more than half of their brothers lay emolliated on the ground and with each burst from the ashen wand another blow would make it through Unthers armor. If it were not for the red gem on a gold chain about his neck Unther’s blood would have already flowed from his body. Instead he continued to fight on as his strength began to fail, all the while Lycaon stood back and watched his sons falling against this man who seemed so strong an opponent, the elvin king bound, shackled and gagged on the floor behind him as the first Lycan waited with an evil smile upon his face. Unther realised the cause for his enjoyment was due to the punishment he was getting as the claws and bites continued to mount up and push his limits. If he survived against the werewolf lords he would have little left against the most powerful foe here, and his left arm along with his sword remained on the cave floor next to him as he continued to send balls of fire from his ashen wand upon his foes. With only as many charges left in his wand as he had enemies Unther tossed the ashen wand to the floor and drew Anusharur yet again to strike at the last ten of the sons of Lycaon. One by one they fell to the skill and power of Unther and Anusharur until the final blows crushed the skull of the last of the sons of Lycaon. But they had done what their father had wanted and expected, weakening Unther to the point where he had lost an arm, been drained of the divine spells of protection and enhancement and wounded so badly he could barely stand. It was then that Lycaon’s arrows came at Unther one of them striking him in the chest through his armor by the grace of the gods missing his heart by the smallest of margins. (Game note: Down to 15 HP used Lay on Hands and swords healing and pious defence against the crit from one of the two arrows that struck him and he already and lost left arm at the elbow before the 4 arrows came his way and final combat between Unther and Lycaon begins) Unther began walking towards Lycaon, each step a cadence of his prayers as divine energy began to stitch his many wounds. So fervent was his faith that he never waivered in his approach as a score of arrows came at him with but a few finding their mark and of those none causing more than a small scratch quickly healed by the divine glow about him. After sending the last of his arrows at the approaching paladin Lycaon, like a beast possessed, charged him with his magical greataxe once taken from the possession of a god and known as “The Axe of Perun”, only to strike air as Unther sidestepped the blow at the last moment and came in with a single powerful blow of his own. Smiting Lycaon with a perfect strike with all of his strength and divine power, the first of the lycans fell before the one armed Unther Drokoth wielding Anusharur, the heavenly smasher of thousands. None were as surprised or relieved as king Amheldwyr who, although badly wounded, realised that this was a man of strength of faith and destiny would change the world and forevermore be considered a friend and ally to the Elves of Aaledon.

The Borderlands War (The war between Aaledon, Rhigolia, Andril, and Yrdahn) The kidnaping of King Merilthas of Aaledon during his first visit to Andril was the spark that ignited a war forever remembered as The Borderlands War. It started with the call for a great hunt by the elves of Aaledon for the kidnapping of their King Merilthas during his visit to Andril. The High Lord of Andril, Unther Drokoth had given King Merilthas the welcome and respect that was due him in the traditional ways of both elves and man, however the King of the Elves never returned to his forested kingdom and within days an army of elves marched across the northeastern borders of the Andrillian Commonwealth to seek revenge against the perceived murder and betrayal. Knowing this was not the truth of the matter Unther ordered his men to hold a line against the approaching elves but to not engage them in battle for he knew that if either human or elf blood was spilled then a costly war for both sides would be impossible to stop. Unther understood the meaning of what had happened the moment news that an the eight demon armies led by the princes and princesses of Yrdahn had already crossed into Rhigolia and engaged Amon of Athon on the field of battle. He had four days before the same would happen to Andril and his forces would be forced against those of the elves of Aaledon. Following the route of the Elven King, Unther and his men discovered signs of battle and a hard fought struggle. Uncovering the knowledge of a fight between the Elvin King and his entourage with a group of unknown assailants within the borders of Andril would not stop a war however. The unknown force left behind no blood of their own, though elvish blood did dot the scene, only a single clue was left to follow, a chunk of hair and fur that was likely cut off by the Kings blade before he was overwhelmed. This clue, and the nature of the conflict allowed for only one undeniable culprit to Unther’s knowledge; werewolves. Returning to Andril Unther ordered his Generals to slow the advance of the elven lines with the strategy of non engagement. Although this would not stop them from coming to the very doorsteps of Andril it would slow them down long enough to find answers. After convincing the best tracker in the city, known as “Le chercheur” The Tracker; Marquis Hubert lupine ambassador of the Marquis Francois “Le Hautain”, son of Fouques de Valefroi of the city of Louvines in Domain Royale, Unther and his new companion departed to take up the trail of the kidnapers. As the Lupine Ambasador and Lord Unther followed the scent of the kidnappers into the mountains north of the city the war had already began to devastate the forces of Amon. The traditional tribal banners of the Bear, Boar, Eagle, Elk, Horse, Ox, Tiger and Wolf met the forces of Venon under the command of the Dark Princes Alareus, Dusteusoris, Gaus, Krioth, Orisis, Hesthe and the Dark Princesses Rela and Xesa throughout Rhigolia. The battles were hard fought bloody affairs on all fronts as the free men of Rhigolia stood against the coming of the Dark Army. It began with a trap unleashed by the Army of Prince Alareus against The Bear Clan forcing the Bear clan to withdraw without being able to attack their enemy and at the cost of 86 brave men. The Army of Prince Dusteusoris then decimated the lines of The Boar Clan overrunning them in a vicious attack until there were no more Boar Clan left alive and only 22 of Dusteusoris’s men lay dead on the battlefield. The Army of Gaus charged against The Eagle Clan who manoeuvred to counter the assault. The strategy dropped 67 of Gaus’s men who then rallied against the encirclement and all but 58 of the Eagle Clan survived to tell the tale. Seeing the fate of the Boar and Eagle clans, when The Army of Prince Krioth moved to surround, the Elk clan routed. Krioth laughed at the lack of courage man showed that day as his army continued on their charge against the Horse Clan fortifications nearby while his sister Xesa looked on in anger as his army was forced to watch as the remaining 144 men of the Horse to withdrew under the advance of her brother’s bloodthirsty army to leave her army still untested in battle while her brother Krioth lost merely 25 in his victory against two clans. The Ox Clan and Army of Orisis encircled each other resulting in both lines eventually breaking down into small unit skirmishes breaking out between them that saw no clear victor though 33 of the Army of Orisis and 86 Men of the Ox travelled to the other side that day. At the cost of 67 men the Army of Prince Heste wiped out the Tiger Clan forces in a battle of matched fury though not arms as Rela’s forces held their field position as they watched The Wolf Clan withdraw into the forested mountains near the border of Aaledon while the Army of Hesthe moved south to cut off the Wolf Clan’s escape. At the border of Aaledon and The Commonwealth it was the elves that followed the Platinum Dragons on a meandering chase, always outside of the range of their bows yet never falling out of sight as they gained ground towards the capital by feet and inches. As dawn rose the battle between the Clans and the Armies of Darkness intensified. The Bear Clan were attacked by The Army of Dusteusoris along the shores of the western sea just north of Athon. In a pitched battle the Clan were forced north away from the city losing 336 men in the attempt compared to only 39. Just east of that battle the Eagle clan were destroyed, caught between the combined Gaus and Alareus Armies in a battle that saw Gaus attack the clan and drive them into a trap set by Alareus. Though none survived they took 4 more Gaus with them to do so. East of that massacre the Horse Clan were under charge from the Army of Krioth just north of The Rhigolian Mountains, try as they could to outmanoeuvre the invaders the Eagle Clan warriors fell that day as The Army of Krioth marched on towards Athon. The Ox Clan confronted by Orisis and surrounded by Xesa charged head long into the ranks of Orisis in the most successful attack of the war to date killing 334 of them but taking nearly the same number in the attempt before Xesa’s Army cut them down as they withdrew. This left the Wolf Clan in their mountain position to defend against the Army of Hesthe. As they closed in and climbed the makeshift barricades the men of Clan Wolf defended with all their strength losing only 58 men to the 260 lost in the attack by Hesthe sending them back to Rela’s camp to regroup. Though it was a valiant effort and the only true victory the men of Rhigolia had during the war so far they knew the line had been broken and set off on the 7 day journey to The Keep on the Borderlands to make their last stand. This left only the Bear Clan warriors, exhausted and at a mere third of their initial numbers, with any hope of defending Athon and their King Amon against the combined might of Four Armies of Dark Princes, with the Army of Dusteusoris standing directly between them and their city. It was a battle they had no hope to win, or even survive. It was their leader Tir-ursa decided to send a unit to the men of Ethigoviel in hopes that they may yet aid them in the fight while he and the rest tried to break through to reach Athon in the hopes that they could garrison the city long enough for help to arrive. So it was that the last of the Bear Clan travelled for ten days to the Frontier of Ethigoviel as their were never heard from again (though tales do tell of Tir-ursa reappearing in Ethigoviel with a small group of comrades that escaped death on the battlefield.

The Curse of the Three Beasts (Where Unther falls under the cursed trap of Venon and the birth of three Colossal Beasts) It came to pass after the Great Crusades that the town of Narnclaedra, west of Andril, came under a powerful evil curse. The animals and people began to suffer from all manner of horrible diseases. Aeneas Raiden, the Captain of the Patinum Dragons in the town had uncovered the source of their ills; a helmet known as The Casque of Bronze Blasphemy, brought to the town by adventurers unaware of it’s true origins or function. Captain Raiden and his men did best to stem the initial spread of the diseases spread by the cursed helm but soon found they needed more then their divine graces could grant. They sent word to Andril for help to dispel the foul magics and Unther answered the call. The following morning, upon his arrival Unther used his divine magic to stop the evil from spreading, but when he did so the casque was destroyed in a mighty clap of thunder and a ghostly laughter that lingered across the countryside as Unther’s left foot withered into nothingness along with the helmet. Screaming in pain Unther fell to the ground, his left leg ending in a macabre stump at the ankle. No matter what healing magics were used upon him it would not grow back, for this was the evil curse of his brother Venon that could not be undone. The legendary dwarven smith Seoras (pronounced Show-rus) Stoneforge, or Genaal Taalomar’lannd as Unther knew him in the old Dwarf tongue, and the Elf Archmage Sadron Vanren crafted the Heel of Hope and Arm of Courage as a solution for the hobbled Highlord of Andril, helping him to overcome the challenges of his broken body with these magical aparatus. The gifts could not come at a better time, for unknown to all the curse had yet to fully play itself out. The Withered remains of Unther’s foot mingled with those of the casque over the next few months. Out of the remains of it’s fell magic rose three colossal beasts Charnelmind the hunter, Ripkill The Deadly, Beastbrood the unspeakable. The Three Beasts destroyed Narnclaedra before Unther could stop them, leaving only the ruins as a reminder to all to this day of what carelessness can wrought. When he did arrive what stood before him were creatures that had not been seen in the realms since Tiamat originally spawned them during the Godswar.

The Fallen One (Where Unther is confronted by Neoptolemos, the Fallen Solar) Andril and the Commonwealth would not exist if it was not for the coming of the lost Drokoth line those many years ago. It was shortly after Unther had received the gifts of Seoras when an angel burst out of the air before him as he sat on his throne. It was Neoptolemos, a dark bringer of death who had fallen into madness during the godswar. He merely appeared and pronounced his judgement before attacking, “Unther, son of Dro, grandson of Kryptonelthraxus out of Drokothar’bekisnhlekil and The Platinum Dragon Bahamut. Your presence on this world at this time was for tolled and to ensure no further interference requires your death and the end of your line. I, Neoptolemos will be the one to receive the honor of making you bleed and be risen above the hosts in heaven and hell alike!” Unther barely had time to move, still getting used to the Heel of Hope and the Arm of Valor, as the towering winged immortal swung “Pelus” his mighty vile unholy Greatsword at least half a length longer than the Kingsword itself. Without a moment to spare Unther grabbed the Kingsword from it’s holster calling on it’s power to protect him as he moved in a defensive posture from the throne in one fluid motion towards his assassin and spoke the final words of a prayer. To his eyes he could see that although the fallen angel was nearly invulnerable there were weakpoints in his attack and armor that divine eyes could see. The creature attacked with the powerful swing of a near divinity with it’s horrible great blade striking The Kingsblade with such force and ferocity that all within the surrounding lands of Andril heard the sound of unearthly metal on unearthly metal. Neoptolemos, enraged by the counter moved so fast he could barely be seen as the unholy weapon came in to cut the upstart mortal in two at the waist. Again the sound of blades striking rang like thunderclaps throughout the halls as Unther countered with just enough speed and strength to stop the second blow before countering with a quick step closer to his opponent. The very proximity of the fallen angel was so powerful a force of evil that Unther’s flesh began to burn. Channeling all of his divine grace into a single thrust Unther lunged forward and struck Neoptolemos in the left hand tearing away immortal flesh and making his ichor begin to flow from the nasty wound and caused his swing to go wide. Unther struck again this time slicing his left shoulder. The angel screamed and focussed his next attack more precisely as he realised that he had underestimated the abilities of this royal robed man with one arm. Neoptolemos changed tactics, always striking then retreating to take advantage of his much longer reach so that as he struck he left no target. Although not as powerful as his initial blows many were landed on Unther this way in quick succession, a slash at the left elbow, bicep, and gash on both sides of the Unther’s head each flowed with crimson blood with each glancing blow made as The Kingsword counters were an instant to late to deflect the lightning jabs of the furious fallen angel. Unther again focussed on the next opening the malevolent maelstrom in front of him presented him with. Unther could feel the power of the blade calming his burning flesh as he opened up a gash in Neoptolemos’ left chest just beside his heart. The fallen angel screamed in pain and fury and his unholy blade continued to strike true landing blow after blow landed creating fresh wounds on both arms, his head and left thigh. The two combatants knew the next blow would likely be the final one for whoever landed it. Neoptolemos’ blade was high and coming down for the killing strike when The Kingsblade found it’s opening and thrust into the open wound on an angle that pierced the very heart of the fallen angel. With a loud clang the unholy giant blade struck the ground, followed moments later by the dead form of the fallen angel Neoptolemos. It is said that even with the mighty healing powers of The Commonwealth at his beck and call High Lord Unther’s wounds were so grave that they nearly killed him and continued to bleed for months after the battle had been won. When fighting angels, even fallen ones it is said that even the mightiest never walk away unscathed.

The Call of The Bronze Gauntlet (Where Unther is summoned by The Bronze Gauntlet Adventuring Company to fight Shoa-vivac, Dracolich of Ethigoviel) In the years after the founding of Andril, the High Council put into action that each would mentor or at the very least sponsor one of the many established adventuring companies within the Commonwealth. In this way, it was thought, the safety of the realm could be passed along to other like minded folk who would go where the Mithril Guard or Platinum Dragon Knights could not or possibly very well become the next hero of the land or future High Lord. The reality was that many good intentioned folk died within weeks of forming an adventuring company. One such group was called The Bronze Gauntlet. Although based out of Andril their adventures led them to the northern edges of The Frontier of Ehigoviel to track down a Cult of the Dragon said to be obeying the commands of a new power arisen in the north, a demigod called Shoa-viviac. As it turned out, the new god was simply a powerful Dragon that had become an archmage in life to become a Lich. The poor members of The Bronze Gauntlet did well tracking down and eliminating the cultists but met their end when they uncovered the temple-cave complex that served as Shoa-vivac’s lair. As the members of the party were dying horribly to the attacking Dracolich the last of them boasted of the powerful sponsor that would destroy Shoa-viviac. Never a coward in life as a Black Dragon the Dracolich was not going to let an opportunity to find out who his enemies were go to waste. He tortured the poor soul until he had told Shoa-vivac all about the adventuring company, the commonwealth, and the High Lord sponsor in Andril; including the little tid-bit about each member being given a ring from Unther that he used to send them messages from time to time. The undead dragon took the ring and killed the last of The Bronze Gauntlet as he began to cast a spell. As he finished the incantation Shoa-vivac crushed the ring between his talons and instantly Unther found himself turning to look at the most powerful enemy he had yet faced in these realms. The spell had transported him in mid step as he was leaving his bedroom and heading down for his morning meeting with his Castellan. The spell had caught him by surprise before he could grab armor, gear or the Kingsblade, as usual though he prepared himself for bad things to happen every morning and started the day getting dressed with his Mace Anusharur upon his sash belt with many pouches and his wand of fireballs, so he was far from defenceless. Even as he began to speak Lord Unther grit his teeth and prepared to engage Shoa-vivac, the Dracolich of Ethigoviel with both hands holding something if a diplomatic solution could not be reached. “By what trickery do you summon me here Dracolich? What purpose does one that should be in the Dragon’s Graveyard possibly demand my attention so abruptly.” Unther’s voice echoed ominously off the temple walls. “Why, your doom Paladin High Lord of Andril, slayer of Old Firebreath and Neoptolemos the Fallen. I wish you to know the name of the one who will end you, as I ended those you sent to stop me and kill my followers!” The dracolich retorted in a dry raspy voice. “I am Quirin’nyth-Unur’jalan, The Eternal Watcher of Concealed Treasures, and I will teach you some of those tricks now lordling, now prepare to die!” The huge creature reared and began to cast a spell, Unther took no time in closing the gap between them charging at the undead dragon to strike with all of his righteous fury Anusharur coming down hard upon it’s upper rear thigh with a sickening crack. The creature shifted back and finished casting it’s spell slowly dissolving until it could no longer be seen. Raising Anusharur for another attack Unther quickly lunged for the mid point of where the dragon was swinging with a mighty blow but striking only air. From his left he could hear the laughter of his invisible adversary and the final words of a spell being uttered as he prayed to Tyr to guide his hand against this creature and removed his holy symbol from beneath his shirt letting it dangle on his chest below the periapt he wore. Unther heard the beast mouth a single arcane word “Die!” and he found himself on his knees as the universe tried to tear him apart into tiny pieces. Just as he gained his footing Unther heard the dragon begin to spew forth it’s breath, instinclively he ran towards where it originated from trying to roll beneath the gout of acid flying at him and sizzling as avoided the main blast area, but this gave him a clear idea of where the dracolich was and he struck hard and fast before the corrosive goo had time to penetrate his robe. His blow landed hard splitting the ground but no dragon. Suddenly invisible talons like swords and teeth like daggers buffeted the paladin again and again tearing at him even though he continued to roll with every blow as it broke through his toughened skin until finally the invisible dragon shuffled to do it again, a fatal flaw Unther would use against his overconfident foe. Though he could not see the undead dragon his keen ears could hear it and that one mistake was all the seasoned warrior needed. Stepping forward towards the scrape of talon on ground Unther summoned all of his divine grace and might in a great downward smite that connected squarely to the invisible dracolich’s chest with the force of a meteor strike. The next sound he heard was that of the massive creature falling limply to the ground. Eventually the invisibility wore off as Unther was healing the massive wounds the creatures many attacks had inflicted. Saying a prayer to Tyr and Bahamut he lumbered forward to ensure the demise of the lich. It took several weeks afterwards to clear out the lair, return to The Commonwealth to see the remains of Shoa-vivac to The Dragon’s Graveyard and the bodies of the fallen Bronze Gauntlet Adventuring Company but Unther oversaw this personally to ensure nothing untoward happened and all the valiant warriors were treated properly.

The Harbinger Tree. (Where a Harbinger of retribution seeks justice and gains instead a new life.) Unther awoke on a bright morning in Fokkius to a screaming alarm in his head; the city was under attack. No sooner had he moved to get out of bed and finished attaching his arm of valor than the door to his room opened. “High Lord, excuse the disturbance however the spire sir, it’s under siege.” The Knight, followed shortly thereafter by a small team of vassals, were all standing with their right arm over their chest fist closed, the traditional salute. Unther slipped on his leggings and grabbed Anusharur, the Kingsword and his backpack replying as he quickly belted all three, “Who, what, how, why and where exactly? In that order and be brief for gods sake!” The Knight continued the salute as he rhymed off the details. “Unknown visitor from the main gate did not detect as either good or evil but was under the effect of some form of transmutative magic, he then engaged the outer gate guards as they attempted to question him as per policy paralyzing them before breaching the outer walls as he flew towards the top of the spire. His last confirmed location was reported as the druid’s grove heading towards the temple.” “Thank you.” Responded the High Lord as he finally returned the salute. “No time for the suit guys. Inform the council that I have moved to engage the intruder and will knock on the sky for some answers while in route.” With his last buckle clasped he drew The Kingsword shifting to the side and was gone. Within the blink of an eye Unther was at the center of the druid’s grove made by Mordread atop the spire, around him the last of the thirteen druids of the grove fell unmoving. Their assailant stood less than forty paces ahead of him, the straight black hair, reddish-yellow brown skin, prominent cheekbones and robes of young buffalo skin painted with scenes and decked with ermine tails, bear claws, pouches and bags made from pelts marked him as a native of Viecan. “Hold where you are!” Unther called after him, The Kingsword in front of him. “I am Unther Drokoth, Lord of Andril and I would know for what purpose you have assaulted us and come here for!” The man turned to face him, his lips a tight line through gritted jaw replied in an almost unnatural dry wispy voice. “I have been called The Harbinger. You and your people have proven yourselves unworthy. Mordread’s arrangement with me ended upon his death. I will see his murder avenged. I bring death to the half elf and all those that harbour him.” Visibly relaxing his combat stance Unther released the two handed grip he had held upon The Kingsword and raised his left hand palm out in a show of peace. “Harbinger, the Heirophant Mordread was a dear friend and confidant of mine as well, his passing grieves me and the lack of his daily council has been sorely missed these many months, however, you act on false information. It was not Niviran half elf who was responsible for the death of our friend, Niviran was controlled by another, a demon from…” The Harbinger’s right hand began tracing out strange arcane symbols in front of him that dimly lit up then faded away, with his left he clutched one of his pouches and chanted in a strange language. As he continued to cast the spell storm clouds blotched out the sun so suddenly that Unther knew he must react now for though he did not recognize the incantation he realized something very bad was going to happen. “You are responsible for only minor crimes at this point Harbinger, halt this aggression! We can discuss this peacefully, stop what you are doing before someone gets hurt!” The assailant did not respond and only continued the intricate casting. Unther’s time was quickly running out, as was his options. “I can’t let you do this. Stop…now!” he yelled, returning to his two handed grip upon the Kingsword and called upon the power within to counter the growing forces being summoned by the Harbinger. In one powerful movement he buried the claymore nearly a foot into the ground releasing a shockwave powerful enough to dissipate the growing storm clouds and knock the Harbinger back on his heels, disrupting his casting. “Can we discuss this now Harbinger? Or shall today only end in the destruction of either of us?” The look on the native of Viecan’s face was one of anger then one of appreciation before returning to cold resolve. “You are quite an adversary High Lord Unther of Andril, your words do hold sway over my intentions and I will offer you this as a fellow friend of the Heirophant. I shall leave yourself, your city, in fact this plane of existence, once justice is done. Niviran the half elf must die for his crime. My master’s death was not just of the body but of his soul as well. The weapon he used sent his essence someplace beyond wishes, resurrections or reincarnation as is the natural order of things and though I will find out where blood demands blood. It is sad that the half elf has no knowledge of his actions, it was however his hand that did the unnatural deed. As Harbinger I must fulfil my duty to see both the assassin and the puppet master of such a vile act pay for what they have done to them both and for what I must do now. Hand him over to me and I will bring peace to Master Mordread’s soul. Resist and face the punishment primordial!” “You were his apprentice? No, he had none...wait, the storms, the voice, your tone. You are no Viecan are you? You are the elemental power Mordread allied with those many years ago. How, why…” “Enough of this talk, though it is true, I require only a simple answer from you. Will you hand over the half elf or not High Lord Unther, Coronal of The Commonwealth and Druid Friend?” “To send an innocent soul to slaughter is tantamount to doing the deed yourself. One that was the victim of magic enchantments can not be held accountable for actions done under such duress only in as much as they were complicit in the act. The laws of The Commonwealth are clear on this and I stand by the law.” “Then friend of my friend you shall fall for your laws. The natural order must be maintained!” With that the guise of the Viecan was dropped as The Harbinger began to grow and fade becoming more and more translucent until Unther could feel the gale force wind before him like a tornado. As a green beam erupts at Unther from the maelstrom he raises The Kingsword just in time to deflect it harmlessly away. “Then I too am sorry that I must do this!” Unther yells as he charges full on into the tornado but before he can close all the way he is lifted nearly a hundred feet into the air. Sliding through the dimensions he appears next to the maelstrom only to be buffeted by its power and thrown again into the sky as hail, cold and sleet begin to rain down upon him. He manages to concentrate enough to spot an area next to the creature on the far side where very little wind is blowing the grass and twigs around and in an instant he finds himself standing there, out of the storm and wind, Kingslayer poised to strike. Although the winds ravage around him Unther maintains his footing so as not to be sucked into the vortex itself and swing repeatedly through the base of the cyclone again and again and again and again. The maelstrom seemed to diminish and the cyclone itself back away from the repeated strikes with the Kingsblade that was now licked with blue flame and arcing electricity while the blade itself shone in a thin sheet of dripping ice. Suddenly Unther did not feel at all well, like the very life was being bled from him, a withering feeling and tiredness was taking hold. Looking around the grove he witnessed several of the Druids of the Spire with eyes wide begin to dilapidate into mere skeletal forms of what they once were. More than this, whatever magic the Harbinger was using was withering life in the grove itself. “Look at what you are doing Harbinger! Is this what Mordread would have wanted? I gave you the chance to end this in peace, I was even hoping you would come to your senses and join together with us to carry on his vision. Look around you Harbinger, this is madness!” With that Unther resolved to do what had to be done, shouting. “May Mordread forgive me, I must end you Harbinger!” as he leaped into the middle of the cyclone, letting the full might of The Kingsword falling again and again and again and again upon the Elemental inside until the storm dissipated, the cyclone disrupted into a westerly breeze and Unther stood atop the dying true form of The Harbinger as the last of his life began to seep away. “I wish there was another way Harbinger, I really do. Mordread’s soul may be trapped in Venon’s Realm and unable to return to us here but when yours passes there is nothing. It is the final and ultimate death for a spirit such as you, I will remember you for what you once did alongside the Heirophant not for what his death has caused you to become, so let the fates not my hand decide. If you do get a second chance from fate remember, your failure today was part of the natural order of things, we are not your enemy only friends of a great man that died before his time and none among us grieves more than the half elf. Farewell or goodbye.” Without looking back Unther began to gather the recovering members of the Druids of the Spire and treat their wounds. When the others arrived he explained what had happened to them. Looking back to the middle of the grove where The Harbinger had fallen, Unther smiled to himself, at a majestic tree and whispers in the breeze he was sure said “Thank you.” And he responded with one of his own, “You are welcome, friend.”

Three Books and The Coliseum (Where Unther studies the ways of old masters to produce the great field manual for the Platinum Dragons and honors it all with the building of the Great Coliseum of Andril) In the years after returning the remains of Quirin’nyth-Unur’jalan, the Dracolich of the North once called Shoa-vivac, Unther turned his attentions to pursuits closer to hearth and heart. Though it involved no slayings of monsters it was a challenge perhaps even more difficult than being thrown into mortal combat with the greatest leviathans of the myth. It all began with a desire building within Lord Unther to not only improve himself but to also leave a different kind of legacy for his world, his country, his realm, his ancestors and of course his children. He then used the teachings learned to write “The Great Field Manual”. The Manual and Coliseum; Floods, Quakes, Traitors, Assassins, and royal birth foretold. (Where Unther studies the ways of old masters to produce the great field manual for the Platinum Dragons and honors it all with the building of the Great Coliseum of Andril) In the months after the Unther’s defeat of Shoa-vivac widespread flooding resulted from nearly two solid months of heavy storms in late spring and early summer resulting in at least forty deaths and losing much of the years crops. As the saturated ground began to dry a great celebration for the people was announced; The Great Coliseum of Andril neared completion. A permanent elliptical arena built as a forum and amphitheatre with grand Dannorian inspired vaulted arching, it would be the primary home for traditional legal challenges, games, artistry and entertainment for the amusement of up to fifty thousand Citizens of the Commonwealth. The Inauguration Celebration would mark the Grand Opening of The Coliseum and also be remembered as the day High Lord Unther Drokoth would decree his completed Platinum Dragon and Mithril Guard Field Manual, presenting a copy to the leaders of each organization as well as unveiling it to the people as recorded in the scripts and sigils carved into the very adamantine bricks making up the Amphitheatre. In this way it was presented first to the Citizens of Andril who worked with the High Lord to produce it, followed by the Aurvandil of the Platinum Dragon then the Chief Superintendent of the Mithril Guard and finally to the assembled crowd as a symbolic gesture to follow the hierarchy of law and order prescribed within the Manual. So it was that after nearly half a decade in development Unther officially dedicated the Coliseum on the seventh day of the seventh month of the seventh year (Hayase 7th, 7 AD) with a festival including 100 days of games. For a brief time all was well and prosperous again. Within weeks of the final construction and ceremony the entire Dwarf Battleaxe Clan, many of whom had become citizens of the Commonwealth to work in the Andril Mountains mining and working the adamantine used in the construction of the Coliseum, remained to take part in the festivities. Within only a few days the head of the Clan Bajor Battleaxe met with the High Lords and it was agreed that those who wished to do so would take up reconstruction of the existing large mining town into their permanent settlement in the Andril mountains and be given autonomy to administrate over the mines so long as the swore homage to High Lord Unther and the Andrilian Commonwealth, while those who wished to return to Grililath would do so and establish a trade route between The Commonwealth and Clan Battleaxe in perpetuity. In all three thousand nine hundred and thirteen dwarves migrated into the Commonwealth and swore homage in The Coliseum nineteen days after the Inauguration founding the town of Battleaxe Hall. A week later trade caravans began setting out from Battleaxe Hall to Grililath. The jubilation of the of the One Hundred Days Celebration was replaced with shock and grief when the Hierophant Druid and High Lord Mordread, who had done so much to beautify the Commonwealth, was assassinated by one of their own; the half elf High Lord Niviran. In the weeks that followed it was discovered that the half elf had been possessed by a new type of demon spirit and not in control of his actions the day he killed his friend and fellow High Councillor. In High Lord Unther’s closing address on the final day of celebration, which turned into an honorarium for the Hierophant, he absolved Niviran of all crimes and wrong doings in the matter. He also passed a decree presenting Mordread’s apprentices and inner circle as The Druids of the Spire, officially recognizing them as the caretakers of the natural world within the Commonwealth and recognizing their claim to access over the Spire Grove to keep a watchful eye and open heart for the Citizens of Andril. In the closing ceremonies Niviran was accepted and led the circle as they departed the arena floor in a symbolic show of forgiveness. All in Andril and indeed the whole Commonwealth understood that, though absolved of the crime, Niviran would never be able to forgive himself for what his hands had done. Despite these events the people remained resolved against even dark events like the hurricane striking Laprarie causing 20 deaths followed less than a week later by a huge explosion in Springburn leaving a total of 35 dead. As the Commonwealth entered it’s 8th year trade came and trade slowed, however the populace attained a new level of excitement as it was announced that Alia Drokoth, daughter of High Lord Unther Drokoth was to be married. For months leading up to the wedding the gossip continued to spin as no one seemed to know who this newly graduated citizen of the commonwealth originally from Ethigovial was. Eventually it became known that this suitor was a commoner, Warden Spellshard, the son of a tradesman and graduate from a Warmage academy from one of that country’s northern cities. The two had met and fell in love a few years ago while Alia journeyed to Ethigovial with her father as he tried unsuccessfully to re-establish the trade routes lost. They spent a week tracking down a plot within the capital that led to the eventual destruction of a local thief’s guild and a small reward for their efforts. When the envoy prepared to depart Alia informed Warden of who exactly she was and asked that he return with her to Andril and become a citizen of the Commonwealth so they could be together. Although hesitant at first after finding out Alia was Unther Drokoth’s daughter, Warden was convinced by her arguments and accompanied her. Alia even convinced her father to support them in this to which he replied “Perhaps next time I’ll send you to negotiate with the trade barons, with your ability to convince others so strongly to see things the way you want, we may have achieved success.” They would be married in The Coloseum for all to see and enjoy, Unther spared no expense to ensure both noble and commoner all felt welcomed and included. The meteor shower that marked their wedding that evening, of Ichiyo 10th, was an amazing display with the whole event being described by many of the greatest artists of the day. The confidence of the nation was now insurmountable, even the earthquakes and storms that again ushered in the end of the year for the most part seemed acceptable losses and the whole community rallied around those who faced such hardships. So uneventful in fact that Unther began to spent weeks of time sequestered within his meditation room, allowing his daughter Alia to develop her leadership role in Andril, as he travelled the astral plane to spend time with his wife Aleena. As the eighth year slowly moved into the ninth the population followed in the footsteps of Lady Alia and boomed, doubling the number of births from the previous year throughout the Commonwealth. For the people of Hally Harbour, struck by the worst hurricane in their history and loosing forty five people and nine complete families, it is a time for grief.