History of the Land Between the Lands
This is an
ongoing journal of “the Land between the Lands”. Men and
women will die, battles will be lost and won, but
someone will continue our tale. And now Taos's last gift
to Mittelmarch begins our tale.
In the beginning, there was
darkness throughout the Land Between the Lands. The good
races of the Land ruled the First Age, but in the Second
Age they had been slain down to the last child, for the
Orcish sorcerer Izg'bel had built his mighty fortress
around the springhead of the River of Flame, and drawing
upon its magical power, he reshaped the world in his
image. For many years and centuries did he reign
immortal from his iron throne, but in time the spirit of
the Land itself revolted against him, destroying both
throne and fortress in an earth-sundering cataclysm.
This cataclysm marked the
beginning of the Third Age, although only the races of
darkness recall it, and few among men care to know their
history as I do. Amongst them, it was a time of
unparalleled glory and power, and I truly believe that
they will stop at nothing to bring it back. In recent
days, I have come to sense, as elves are wont to do,
that my time in this place grows short. Whether my end
will come from death or passing to another place is
beyond my ken, but I fear that much which has been
learned will be lost with my passing, and so I scribe it
here, as a history for those who may come after, lest
they forget the great deeds of their forebears.
My studies lead me to
believe that the time known amongst the dark races as
the Third Age had lasted for almost a hundred years
before the Arrival, as they call it, occurred. Late one
night, one of the deep fogs that are prone to appear in
the forests of this world became something else, a
portal to another place and time, and the first humans
this world had seen in a thousand years were ripped from
their homeland and unceremoniously dropped in these
They had been a war party
from the Clan of the Wolf, and their leader was Alric,
son of Harland. Wisely perceiving the reason for this
change in their condition, he declared on the spot that
they were now a new clan, and would be called the
Nebelleute, or the People of the Mists. In that very
spot, the beginnings of a sturdy village sprang up,
created by the honest labor of hearty and brave men and
women, little suspecting as they did, that the forests
were full of skulking creatures, who watched these
newcomers with great interest.
In a very short time, more
creatures from other worlds began to arrive. The
half-elf Vallia (later Isen), and his dwarven companion
Theodoric came to the village, now called Mittelmarch.
The Frankish nobleman Duc Daemont D'Marques also came,
bringing with him the tradition of history that I dearly
keep in these dark times. Many others also, and their
exploits are beyond the ken of these writings, for their
deeds would fill volumes.
As these newcomers began to
arrive and make permanent settlements in the Lands,
another arrived as well, and he brought with him the
secret of elven craftsmanship, knowledge which has
served these lands well for many a year now, and for
that we are eternally grateful to Andin Greystorm, for
braving the perils of the journey to bring solace and
In return for this
assistance, Alric, now the war-chieftain of his people,
took with him his chosen companions and followed Andin
through the Black Door portal (the only portal in The
Land that remains true in its location and destination)
back to his world, where they were further trained in
the art of fighting by experienced swordsmen and
generals with decades of experience in the bloody art of
When they returned, flush
with their victory in the brutal war of succession in
which they had fought, they found that Duc Daemont had
left, for reasons of his own, leaving little of his
accumulated knowledge behind. While the Visigoths were
dismayed at the loss of one they had viewed as a
mystical man, they are a people of a practical mind, and
continued about their business.
It would have continued this
way indefinitely, had not I been cruelly ripped from my
own world and brought here, for reasons I still do not
understand. I will refrain from recording here my own
personal history, as it is quite long, even among elves
of a similar age to mine. Suffice it to say that soon
after my arrival, I was ambushed by orcs in the woods,
and only through perseverance and a great deal of luck
did I stumble across the encampment of a group of
warriors, girded for battle.
These men, notable among
them being the Celtic warrior Dhugal of Fangorn, a
forest far to the south, and the savage Norseman Oron
the Wolf, tended to my wounds, and in the great battle
that followed later, I did my utmost to acquit myself
It was this battle, against
a powerful and terrible beholder, that first gave
warning to the people of Mittelmarch that greater powers
were at work against them. With the assistance of a
great dragon, which for a time made its lair in the
mountains to the north, the fell hand of Dhugal, also
known as RavenHeart, brought about the death of the foul
Amongst the common folk,
there was much rejoicing, but I was privy to the
councils of those who led, and their hearts were
darkened, even in victory. The last words of the
beholder had been cryptic, but all agreed they were a
dark omen. They bespoke a great power of evil to the
north of the lands settled by men, and one who would
soon become a great threat to the safety of all
good-hearted people in the Lands.
Fortunately, it was at this
time that the men of Mittelmarch and Fangorn learned of
another group of humans, who lived far to the north of
the Iron Mountains, and who had made a rough fortress to
defend themselves against the frequent depredations of
orcs and fouler beasts. They called themselves the
Legion of the Dragoons, and were a rough band of
mercenaries, led by a hulking giant of a man, known only
by his title, Bishop. Perhaps whatever gods rule this
place chose wisely when they brought them here, for the
Northern Steppes are open and not suitable for defense,
but these men have carved themselves a kingdom from the
grasp of evil, and in these latter days, I am proud to
count myself among the least of their number.
Let it not be thought that I
besmirch the valor of the men of the south, however, for
it was on them that the hammer fell. A great evil
bestirred itself in the mountains, and the dead moved
restlessy in their graves, for Cyrus the Necromancer,
known as the Black-Cloak, had turned his baleful gaze
towards the forests and rivers of the southlands. He
gathered a host to his banner, and sent them forth to
pillage and ruin the lands of the south. Though we were
sorely outnumbered, we marched forth with what troops we
could muster, and searched for advantageous terrain on
which to give battle to Cyrus' minions. In the end, a
rolling plain at the edge of the forest was chosen, so
that we could disappear into the woods should the battle
turn against us. The dawn was red that day, and though
we bravely faced our enemies and routed them, the day
was long and many brave swords were lost. In the style
of my people, I have taken to calling that day “The
Battle of Countless Spears,” for it was the style of the
necromancer Cyrus Black-Cloak to outfit his legions of
the undead with spears. Many noble deeds were performed
that day, and many foul ones as well, but when the sun
sank below the horizon, the men of the south made camp
and celebrated their victory. It was not to last.
Over the next year, the
minions of Cyrus would march ceaselessly forth from
their lairs deep in the caverns of the Iron Mountains,
and were an ever-present threat to the southlands. It
was a time of blood and terrors in the night, when every
man kept his sword sharp and close at hand, and the old
spirit of hope in the Lands began to die, even as more
new arrivals appeared every day. It was during this time
that the men of Aethenu, largely Scotsmen, as they call
themselves, appeared in the Northern Steppes, along with
their entire fortress and a significant portion of their
lands, all in one night. This sudden arrival of
reinforcements, and the powerful position which they
held, dismayed the necromancer, and he stretched his arm
out against them, personally leading the entire array of
his armies against them, hoping to catch them off guard.
It was an act that was to be his undoing, for before the
walls of the castle, he was caught and slain in single
combat with Dhugal of the Fell Hand, after Lord Aidan
Furey of Aethenu and his men personally held the
shattered gates of their castle against a picked force
of trolls brought to the field by the Black-Cloak. His
forces were chased in disarray all the way back to their
caverns, and the combined forces of men celebrated.
After this great victory at
the Battle of the Shattered Gate, the situation in the
Lands settled somewhat, and many new arrivals swelled
the ranks, replacing those who had been lost. It was at
this time that Zaron Red-Handed arrived, and the
towering ogre, Nichtmar, joined our ranks. At the time,
Alric had left in search of an encampment of men in the
foothills of the Iron Mountains, and the leadership of
Mittelmarch had fallen almost entirely upon my
shoulders. Fortunately, it was a relatively peaceful
time, the wall of the village was expanded, and the
first beginnings of a road to connect us with the land
of Fangorn were laid. In imitation of the castle of the
Aethenric, two gates were built of wood and iron, one at
the north and south of the village, and platforms run
along the walls, to aid the defenders in times of need.
In time, we have all come to be grateful for these
additions to our defenses.
The death of Cyrus was not
to be the end of men's woes, however, for it soon
reached the ears of the orcish warlord Grish'nak, direct
descendant of Izg'bel. His rage at the death of his
servant was terrible to behold, and he swore a mighty
oath that before twice the winter passed, he would slay
every one of those who opposed him, and build his throne
upon their mangled corpses. The forges of the Iron
Mountains ran hot, as he outfitted the host of his
people in iron and steel, and the black smoke that rose
from the mountains was a terrible omen for men.
Just before the harvest
time, the men of Mittelmarch were called to the defense
of their allies to the south, the woodsmen of
Crann-Meigall, and Grish'nak did not hesitate to take
advantage of this opportunity. He sent forth his
mightiest servants, the trolls, led by their leader Azul,
to bring fire and ruin to the lands around the village.
For many days, they laid siege to Mittelmarch, and were
only driven off when the armies returned.
The land now rests in the
grip of winter, the roads that we have built to connect
us with the south are muddy and impassable, and the
mountain passes that our allies to the north use to
reach us are closed until the spring thaws. The
campfires of Grish'nak's host are a bleak cloud on the
horizon, and what is yet to come is hidden even from me,
although Zaron and Nichtmar have pressed me often to
read the omens, so that they may prepare and give what
hope they can. These are dark times, but it is my hope
that I shall die with honor on the day we meet Grish'nak
in battle, and that another will take my place, so that
the deeds of those who come after will be remembered, as
I have strived to record those who have come before.
These were the
writings of Taos of the Levanon, Historian, Architect,
Winters End Year 6, 3rd
A few weeks ago, Zaron,
Taos, and other Mittelmarchers found a factory of orcish
weapons. It was located on the southern face of the Iron
Mountains. We attacked the orc workers and guards and
seized a number of the weapon caches. We considered this
a success, but Taos was not satisfied, he felt that
there should've been more. He thought there had to be
some sort of supply line, but didn't know how or where.
There should've been some sort of torn up road from the
weight of all the weapons being transported, yet we
found none. Taos felt stealth was required to find this
supply line and many weeks ago he left to search for it
and still has not returned. This worries me. I feel that
Grish'nak may be stronger than we know.
We must fight on, and that
is exactly what we will do. A few months ago, Taos
assembled a militia and began training them in the ways
of war. The Defenders of Mittelmarch (as they are now
called) have received a good, but incomplete, training.
We've called upon Kinsman Oron of the Wolf, from the
Kingdom of PentWyvern to come and continue the training
I pray that we will be
strong enough when the time comes.
Summer Year 6, 3rd
We have lost…
Last night Mittelmarch's
wooden borders were burned down by a surprise attack of
Grish'nak's forces. I now walk the ashes that were once
the walls of Mittelmarch. Burned and slashed bodies are
strewn about and very little has been saved around the
borders. I have failed in my attempt to prepare us, and
I beg to Thee, help us to heal and help us to become
stronger. The attack was precise, the goal wasn't to get
through the walls it was just to destroy them. We are
exposed, and it will be easy to penetrate our borders.
We have defended one attack already since our walls have
fallen, I am certain the worst is yet to come.
Fall Year 6, 3rd
The summer had been
relatively quiet in the Lands Between, till Karn
destroyed our walls here in Mittelmarch. It had been
like the calm before the storm, citizens were un-easy as
were the soldiers, we were off guard when they destroyed
the walls. This morning we found one of the fallen gates
with a message written in blood. It said, “Oktobrr”, it
was a message from Grish'nak. There has been little
communication with our allies in the North and South, I
hope all is well, but I've sent word to them for aid,
and I can only hope they make it in time. Right now we
rally what fighters we have here in Mittelmarch.
There have also been talks
of building a fortress of stone to defend against future
enemies and to house the future King of the Lands. That
is if we survive Grish'nak.
Spring Year 7, 3rd
After the disappearance of
Nichtmar, I took it upon myself to keep up the history
of this land, even though it is not my own, I feel it is
my responsibility and duty.
Grish’nak and forces crashed
against the few Mittelmarch had, but Mittelmarch was not
alone. Lord Oron the Wolf from Pentwyvern came with
soldiers and defeated Grish’nak’s forces. Oron himself
quartered Grish’nak and sent his remains in different
paths beyond our own realm.
Later, Nichtmar returned and
Mittelmarch finished its stone keep and many new
soldiers would join in its protection. Dragonspire and
Gate Reach would become our newest allies to the Land
Between. They celebrated with Olympics IV, another year
of champions through the multi-realms would come and
clash in non-mortal combat. Truly a glorious site to
see so much talent in one place…
At the moment Zaron is
training our new recruits and preparing them for future
threats. We are at a time of peace it would seem, but
presumably only for the moment.
Spring Year 7, 3rd
Age, Nichtmar of Mittelmarch
Battle for K’nar’s Remains
morning wept upon us as we prepared ourselves for a
fight. Karn’s forces crashed against us with great
strength and fought there way through the main gate of
Mittelmarch. With much of the Mittelmarch Guard still
in training, it was left to the Dragoons to defend the
remains of K’nar till they could be properly destroyed.
Karn knew he could revive K’nar and make him his
servant. Karn had us wavering when Istivan of
Dragonspire bravely cut off Karn’s forces. This wouldn’t
last. We didn’t know Telemachus would take advantage of
the situation. Telemachus blew a hole in the back of
Mittelmarch and caught both sides by surprise. Flanked
on both sides, our doom was hanging over us. From the
docks we heard great explosions, and then many bodies of
Telemachus’s warriors flew through the air. It was
canons from a ship, I had heard them before, never
thought I’d hear them in Mittelmarch. I did not ask how
they came, but I’m forever thankful they did. The
battle cry of the Senegal’s, led by Captain Avias,
Captain Sindaric and Adeus, they swung across to our
docks waylaying into the horde of orcs and goblins. At
the end of the day we were victorious Karn and
Telemachus escaped, but we had kept them from taking
K’nar’s remains. We are still unsure the importance of
K’nar’s remains, but they are now destroyed and we are
one more enemy closer to destroying evil in our land.
Summer Year 9, 3rd Age, Sir Nichtmar of
was good. Mittelmarch had gained strength and a King.
Lord Isen, the first King of Mittelmarch had started his
rule, but not long after he went missing when the Jovian
Empire arrived in our Land. Lord Anvil of Dunland came
to aid the leaderless Mittelmarch against General
Shatar’s Jovian Legion, but there was too many. They
sacked the keep. Now Shatar rules over Mittelmarch, an
extension of Emperor Thrawn’s command. Some of us are
scattered throughout the Land and others have converted
to the Jovian way. One strikes at my heart the most.
Baethor has joined their ranks. Several of the
Mittelmarch Guard followed him to the other side. Who
knows who else will join them…? There are rumors of
Isg’bel’s Sceptor being found by the Jovians. It is a
powerful weapon and could be used to defeat them. Rumors
report that Telemachus is in league with them. I find
myself lost. I travel the Land with my squire, Gron. We
are fighting to survive and trying to figure out a plan,
but I have none. I have sent the remaining Guard and
survivors to Fangorn to hide until we call on them.
That day may never come, for this war seems over and our
blood runs cold.
Summer Year 9, 3rd Age, Lord Anvil of Dunland
in a back of a wagon bound for Dunland and Gladden
Fields, through the back flap he can still see the smoke
rising from Mittelmarch miles away. He knows he needs to
sleep and rest but the constant movement of the wagon is
making it difficult.
As he lays there he muses on the battle that has led him
to be so grievesouly wounded. He remembers the siege
with the alliance surrounding. The scouts had reported a
large wagon train of supplies headed for the city and
troops had been dispatched to intercept them. The Jovian
guards fought well and with deadly precision, but the
appearance of trolls, orcs, and other monsters wearing
the Chu Ku'tal symbol also guarding the wagon train was
unnerving. Between the precision of the Jovians and the
brute force of the monsters many troops died before the
first assault on the city. Anvil remembers how surprised
everyone was by the capture of the trebuchets.
After the siege was in full swing and both sides began
firing the trebuchets causing massive damage to the city
and attackers alike, the main assault began on the
gates. Both sides ended up sending out sapping teams to
destroy the seige equipment and the allaince ended up
using some of the captured explosive powder to bring
down a section of wall into the city.
After that it became a street brawl with little looks of
an organized battle. As troops from both sides rushed
into the breeches made by the Allaince it became clear
neither side was going to give or expect mercy from the
other. The General Shatar used the Chu Ku'tal as shock
troops to bolster weak points where the alliance seemed
to be breaking through. Nothing like a few trolls with
trees to clear away anyone in the way to swing a fight
back for the Jovians.
Anvil worries what kind of unholy promise was given to
the Goth Banith to have him send so many of his monsters
to help the jovians, and does this mean the peace
between Dunland and the Chu Ku'tal is at an end? The
last images Anvil had of the battle was that of his
daughter fleeing from the city with Jovians chasing her
with intent to kill. After charging past the smoldering
ruins of a trebuchet and breaking off another arrow that
had found it's mark in him. Anvil remembers seeing his
allies rush to his daughter as the jovians attack her.
Anvil remembers having to slam into a small band of
Jovians himself and after felling a pair of them felt
the hot sear of a sword into his side.
Later Anvil awoke in the healers tent and found out
Amayls was wounded but would live. Someone killed Shatar,
it didn't matter to him who just that the man was dead.
He also found out that the majority of his forces were
either killed or wounded badly. The city was free but at
a dear cost to the alliance. The city itself is a former
shell of its self.
Anvil thanks the gods that Plebian was left behind to
run Dunland during the battle. Plebian and Lupus will
have to keep Dunland going and safe till Anvil can
recoup enough to take back over day to day operations.
Now Dunland will face north and start open aggression
with the main jovian city. We cannot let them know we
were hurt as badly as we were. Hopefully the last 6
months of preparations for any invading army will pay
off if it comes to that.
A darkness creeps into Anvil's heart and he sends for a
messenger. "Go back to M.M. and ask them if they will
allow me to have Shatar's head. Tell them I wish to
send it to the emperor as a present. Also find someone
who can take a message to Goth Banith. I think we need
With that Anvil lays back and tries to get some sleep.
Winter Year 9, 3rd Age, Plebian Galvorn of
Bridge to Gladden Fields
bridge must be brought to ruin" said Anvil in a reserved
tone. That had been two days ago, then the plan seemed
straight forward, simple even. With the combined forces
of these lands together again looking at the bridge it
was not going to be that simple.
As Plebian sits on his horse looking down at the bridge
Jovians were already on it and would be to the other
side in just a few moments, with a few snap decision
orders shouted between kings, knights and unit leaders
the main allied force charges to the bridge hoping to
catch as many Joves on it as possible.
This thankfully was not the Jovian main force or it
would have been fruitless to attempt, this was just one
of several columns that would be bringing wrath upon the
walls of Gladden Fields.
Plebian turns to look at his handpicked men, picked for
their skill with siege engines and catapults. The
primary order was to take out the left side main pillar
for the bridge. Five hundred yards away another team
composed of similar troops would take out the right
As the two forces clashed at the edge of the bridge
that was the signal for the two engineering units to
advance and take position " let’s get this done quickly
many life’s depend on a timely destruction of the
Plebian smiled as a handful of Jovians broke ranks and
charged toward the siege devices the closest Jove threw
a large ax just missing Plebians head. Quickly they
were dispatched and Plebian turned to check on the
progress of the engineers that is when he heard a large
crash come from the bridge as the pillar fell to pieces
into the river below.
"Now if the right side would just hurry up". Plebian
jumps from his horse to shore up the shield wall now
that his primary order was complete he could work on his
secondary, which is to kill jovians.
With the Jovians trapped on the bridge the Dunland
archers were making short work of the Jovian center.
Without warning the Joves gave a final push to break
out collapsing our center, unfortunately for them it was
to late at that moment the right side pillar snapped
away bringing the whole bridge down sending hundreds of
Joves to their death.
With no hesitation and very little mercy the few that
broke our line were cut down with only one Jovian
soldier taken prisoner. Victory for now
Winter Year 9, 3rd Age, Banith of the Chu
Battle of Gladden Fields
watched from the small rise in the forest as the Jovian
army moved past. Slowly the crimson serpent moved toward
the front gate of Gladden Fields. Farms had been
abandoned and the farmers and their families had moved
into the town, now they gathered with their brethren
atop the walls.
When the Jovians reached the gate, the battle erupted,
but the Chu Ku'tal stood still. Banith could stand there
and watch as the Jovians fought the Dunlanders. He could
wait til it was all done and move in to pick up the
pieces and pick apart the survivors and take what he
wanted. He could feel his men looking at him, they were
anxious for battle. The Jovians had been too focused on
the Dunlanders to realize that now they were surrounded
and they had no hope of retreat.
Banith looked to his right and nodded at a goblin who
sprinted off. His job was to light the star light, a
giant heap of wood that Banith had built to use as a
signal fire. The Star Light once lit would tell Melko to
start the bombardment of Jove. Miles away the Jovians
would come under attack by dozens of large trolls
hurling rocks, orcs manning siege weapons and goblins
who would wear on the Jovian defense. Banith's plan was
to not let the Jovians rest after the defeat this day,
once they were done here, the Chu Ku'tal would move
immediately on Jove.
"My Goth," interrupted Flaw, standing at Banith's side.
"The men grow restless."
Banith nodded in agreement, he could hear their
grumbling, the shifting of their feet, the movement of
"Once the first line is dispatched by the Dunlanders, we
move but not before. They must feel like they are only
fighting the Dunlanders," responded Banith.
The walls and men of Dunland stood strong as the wave of
Jovians smashed into them. As Banith watched the men
fighting and the arrows flying, he saw the first line
fall. It was now time to close the Jovians in and end
the hold the Jovians had on the Land.
Banith raised his sword and as he lowered it he yelled.
It had begun!
The bodies of human, elf, orc, goblin, troll and even
the creature known as Jovian littered the fields and the
streets of Gladden Field. Banith stood at the gate of
the town and looked in. If things were different, he
would order his brothers and sisters to continue until
every man, woman and child within the town were dead. He
stared at the men breathing hard from the battle, elves
helped the injured to get attention to their wounds, and
those who viewed his people and clinched their swords
At one point in the battle, Banith and the King Anvil
had come face to face after killing the Jovians that
seperated them, but Banith turned and continued the
fight. The battle had come off with minimal expense to
the Dunland and Chu Ku'tal lines. It had proven that the
end of the Jovian Empire was near.
Banith turned and made his way out of Gladden Fields.
His target was still the Jovians. From the day they
discovered the first of his brothers dead this was true.
He had told the Jovian messenger that he would kill a
dozen for every one of his men they killed, and Banith
was not going to let this promise go unfulfilled.
The Chu Ku'tal turned from the battlefield and headed
north, he could see the smoke of the star light in the
distance, having been burning for some time now. He knew
Melko's assault on Jove was still underway. Banith
quickened his step to a jog and his brothers and sister
of the Chu Ku'tal followed suit.
Winter Year 9, 3rd Age, Lord Anvil of Dunland
Death of Thrawn
rode through the city and out into the surrounding
country side following the creatures lead by Banith more
and more fighters joined him, all intent on revenge for
all the atrocities committed by the Jovians since they
Several times the bodies of Jovian soldiers were come
upon, the ones unable to stay ahead of the monsters on
their run for the supposed safety of their empire.
Shortly after dawn the group prepared to continue on
towards Jove when a rider came into camp. A ranger who
was on patrol to watch for the Jovians when they invaded
had news. General Thrawn and a group of his soldiers had
escaped the battle at Gladden Fields and as he retreated
toward Jove they were burning villages and killing all
who were before them.
Anvil ordered an immediate change in course and with the
help of the ranger caught up with the Jovians by late
morning. Thrawn and his men were moving fast out of
Dunland whether because they realized they were being
pursued or just anxious to get back to friendly
territory Anvil knew not or cared.
The road wound through the forest and Anvil ordered a
charge into the rear of the Jovians column. The forest
was filled with the pounding of hooves, the screams of
men and horses, and the the sound of steel meeting
steel. The first few minutes were decidedly in the
warrior of Dunland's favor, the men of Jove they met
first were the wounded and dishearted at the rear of the
column. As Anvil and his men pushed forward the soldiers
of Thrawn's personal corp were reached and fighting came
to a near stalemate. The ebb and flow of the battle made
it impossible to tell who would actually make it home
safely this day.
Anvil finally spied general Thrawn fighting nearby, Here
in physical form was the very thing Anvil loathed about
Jove. The man was nothing more than hatred, cruelty,
vindictiveness, and sadism wrapped up in power seeking
flesh. Suddenly Anvil's vision tunneled to only see
Thrawn and in a moment he lost all thought of self
preservation and rational, the only thing that mattered
was seeing Thrawn die.
As Anvil charged across the field Thrawn registered
Anvil's advance and recognizing him as the king of
Dunland he sought to exact his own vengeance and
hopefully save himself and his men by dispatching Anvil
and routing the Dunlanders.
The two warriors plowed into each other with wild
abandon, both scoring several glancing blows as the
flurry of blades whiled around them like a tempest. Thrawn
feinted right and drew Anvil into his gambit an reversed
his movement to score a vicious his to Anvil's leg,
splitting the armor and cutting deeply into the flesh.
Anvil allowed the leg to collapse and used the momentum
to roll away from the next series of blows Thrawn threw
his way. Anvil's shield was the only thing between
himself and the deadly blade of the Jovian and Anvil was
having a hard time keeping it between them while laying
on the ground..
Suddenly the flurry of blows quit and Anvil took a
moment to glance over his shield to see why. Thrawn was
starring into the eyes of Michael Lupus, one of Anvil's
Defender's and closest friends. Lupus's sword was buried
to the hilt in Thrawn's stomach. As he withdrew the
blade Thrawn dropped to his knee's and spat up blood
while starring at Lupus. He looked at Anvil and with
that it was over.
Their general dead the remaining soldiers began breaking
away and fleeing the battle, the men of Dunland to tired
to pursue them. As Lupus helped his king up he said "I'm
sorry but I feared for your life and had to act quickly,
I know you wanted him yourself but we don't always get
what we want". Anvil looked at his friend and with the
hate he had been holding onto since the the beginning of
this war sliding away he smiled and told Lupus "It is
fine, all that matters is the man is dead."
Anvil felt very old suddenly. The actions he was
responsible for these last few months and the toll
required to carry them out suddenly felt very heavy on
his shoulders. He looked around and ordered the bodies
of the Jovians thrown to the side of the rode and for a
squad to return to Gladden Fields with the dead and
After his wounds were bound and the men rested Anvil
rose and said to all "Let us continue on to Jove and see
with our own eyes the end of this war, Banith may need
our help, but I doubt it."
Winters End Year 10, 3rd Age, Giggles the
Corruptor, aka the Lich
arrived at home to recover from the fights that had
transpired. It took many nights but finally my power was
fully restored. I had been preparing for retribution on
all those who deweled in Mittelmarch when my wolves
contacted me. They told me of a heavily armed guard of
at-least ____ strong. Some where Seasoned fighters,
others were mere soldiers just waiting to be reborn.
I was eager to test the will and alliance of my newly
gained allies, Masahiro and Incondra. The later was too
ill to fight but the Masahiro swore that he would do
more then just slaughter all to make up for this. So, I
sent him and a horde too meet the coming incursion.
I amassed a horde of my most powerful creations from the
walking skeletons to the quick ghouls. From the weeping
mothers and the broken fathers of Ravenwood, nearly all
went to protect to the main entrance.
The weaker undead couldn't cross the bridge fully but
they met half way across. It was then the slaughter
began. Not knowing how to make a killing stroke against
the undead the soldiers simply slashed at them as they
would the living. For every Ghoul or skeletal warriors
they took, my minions took 3 more with them.
With my newly regained powers it was so easy to raise
the dead yet again and bring the strongest of those
recently fell. Horror struck those seeing their friends
rise and take arms against them. Some didn't even notice
as their comrades slew them down. Others tried to reason
with them, to tell them of who they were before.
None of them knew the truth about the undead.
In my arrogance I didn't see that they had pushed
through into my village. They came closer and closer to
me but just when they got close my army doubled in
numbers. A legion of soldiers that I had brought from
Kanethea had risen from the ground and began to drag
some of the guards with them. Others rose and took arms
against the rest. Soon the call for a retreat was raised
but one stayed and tried to fight me. A filthy orger!
It took several men to pull him back when he nearly
reached me but I decided to give him a little gift, a
slash across his chest with my sword. I knew I cut him
deep, but the others pulled him away before I could
finish the task at hand.
The Fallen made to attack the retreating guards when I
held my hand up.
"The battle is won. Let them go. They will tell of the
'horrors' they saw before them here. Let them tell of
the futility of attacking us and finally let them know
that we are coming! Gather the dead and let Masahiro
handle them! We will amass all the undead in the
Greatwoods and Ravenwood! We will not rest until
Mittelmarch is part of us!"
Cheers and roars rose from the higher undead and they
eagerly got to work.
SummerYear10 of the 3rd Age, Sir Nichtmar
We met the
Fallen on the battlefield. The Dwarf Baethor used his
runic knowledge to create three “Paladin swords”. He
said they would purify any of the fallen and bring them
to the light. Baethor, Rune and myself used these swords
to smite the Fallen. We destroyed the necromancers
first. They then were unable to turn anymore brothers.
We saved as many as we could, but several had to die.
Tigron met his brother Giggles on the field and it was
he who brought him down capturing his brother’s soul
into a dagger. Tigron explained that the good Giggles
and the Lich were two separate beings. The pirate said
this Lich , though severely weakened, could still be
alive and could one day return. We aren’t sure if
Kanthea has been freed of the Lich’s darkness since he
was defeated. We still need to investigate.
SummerYear10 of the 3rd Age, Giggles the Lich
for one last chance for surrender to Mittelmarch . I had
sent a raven of mine to scout and make sure that none
would harm Arsehead again, for he was my avatar at the
moment. I saw him speak to Masahiro and herd from
Armanoth that they both had betrayed me....... Both of
them...... the closest ones to me and they willingly
betray me! I swore vengeance on Masahiro by taking his
wife and child from him!
I saw more then just the living guarding MM, for
Masahiro had summoned those of the dark path to help
guard as did Lady Incondra.... All my attempts to
persuade them to help me failed. So I called for
Armanoth the Dracolich to battle and to hide my
I sensed a disturbance behind me to see Wulf approach,
taking out my undead like they were termites. I summoned
my own Mound, a creation which is corpse parts held
together by my magics alone, to keep him at bay. I was
tired of the endless betrayal that followed me and I
knew that if Mittelmarch fell Telamon would bestow upon
me untold powers. At that I called for the battle to
I wanted the living horde to suffer once again and sent
in the ones that had fallen in Ravenwood less then a
week ago. I gave them the look of life and had them beg
to take them inside as they had been restored.
Everyone cut them down without a moments hesitation. A
lead guard claimed that they learned from their mistakes
and what not. I sent a flying zombie pig to kill him
directly and marched my next wave of soldiers towards
Their ballastas, catapults, and trebuchaes would be a
problem so I sent Armanoth to destroy them. I felt he
needed nothing to protect him as I sensed neither Lady
Elestrine nor her companion in the city.
I saw him take a few out before he was pushed away. To
my surprise there were some elves scattered within and
they had hit him with arrows set a fire and others that
were blessed. It wasn't enough to kill him but that
pathetic creature flew away from battle until his wounds
The soldiers sent in by Masahiro were helping in taking
my army apart. So I felt my undead wolves would make
short work of their archers.
However for every archer that fell from them three
wolves fell as they came closer and closer to the elven
soldiers and their purifying essence.
None of this was going according to my plan! But I would
not give up.
But no matter how well my army fought, ten soldiers fell
for every one that I took. My magics to restore my
undead were stretched thin and the small curse I put on
the unborn child of Lady Incondra was beginning to
fade... my last triumph card for my hold on Kanthea.....
With both light and dark races against me I set forth to
retreat for myself and rebuild what I could as I could.
But before the land completely swallowed me Armanoth
Pulled me from the ground
"And I thought you would have a escape plan for me as
well." he snarled at me.
"You set forth in anger, casting logic and allies in
favor of glory and your own personal pride. This loss is
no one's but your own. Now take the consequences like a
man or I will cast your father's heart and your
phylactery into the living horde. Oh, next time make
sure your Fallen can stand up to me when your will
starts to losses it's grip."
With that he set me on the ground forcing me to stay no
matter the outcome
Masahiro himself had broken through the lines and came
straight at me. Armanoth made no attempt to help either
With his blade at my neck he said, "What do you think
about not living? How about we end this hear? I have
slaved for you for a mere time and I feel my power
draining when you come near. Now I am afraid of no one
and I will protect my lands and my people as i see fit.
You are nothing more than a shadow to me."
"I haven't lived for quite sometime my 'brother.'" I
spat at Masshiro. It was from my Raven that I had
learned he was my half brother which sickened me to no
end, for he was of a lesser race. "Me related to a
cursed half breed as your self sickens me to no end!"
I grabbed the blade and it rusted away in my hands. "Oh
how we forget the lessons of the past! I will not fail!
Even if I have to sacrifice each and every one of my
minions to do it!"
I focused my energies so my army would fight with a
little more vigor.
" You know they may not cause much damage individually,
but en mass...... let's see how long the people lasts
when they all lose their homes!" I yelled at him
The flying pigs went around the battle and surrounded
the city. Archers got a few but they bombarded the
residential areas. While the casuatlites weren't high
most of the homes were put into ruin. They came and
showed no signs of letting up.
"Even if I lose the battle here. No one will survive
without shelter and I still have undead in your lands!
What do you plan to..." I stopped as I felt something on
the move towards me ".....why do i sense a presence that
should be extinguished....." I looked towards where I
felt it come and saw Tigron, who I saw run through the
chest by Raku in front of me, charge right towards me.
I knew not what powers he gained but they had a touch of
the divine as he took out all the pigs in the air at
once. As he clawed at the sky blue light erupted from
his claws and he slashed them in one strike.
I then saw that he had changed both physically and in
terms of power. He was a pure white snow tiger and his
power made mine seem like ant to a boot.
"I have finally achieved a level of strength necessary
to dispose of you lich." He says towards me. When
finished speaking he breaks a silver chain around his
neck and I sense that my end would be near if I didn't
take him down soon.
Before I could taunt him to catch him off guard he
yells, "You shall not receive the courtesy of speech
before this battle. I don't have time or care to explain
anything to you. You will fall.........NOW."
With a swipe of his claws I felt pain beyond any I had
ever felt in my life. I thought for a moment that I was
torn from the fabric of reality itself. But then I
realized what it had actually done. It had cut my
connection to my creations completely. The army didn't
know what to do and some fled, others died on the spot
and some fought just cause they knew not what to do. In
this confusion all of my enemies set on my army. I saw a
pure white elf of some sort use ice magic on a quarter
of my army, Incondra and another I didn't recognized
took out another part, and the rest fell to Mittelmarch.
My anger knew no bounds as I looked at my brother. I had
decided to set a barrier between us so that either way
this feud would end. A sphere of blue flames surround us
and pushed all others, allies and foe alike, out.
I summoned my blade and slashed at Tigron across the
chest. He backed away holding his claw to his wound.
"All your boasts of power and I can cut you so easily.
This is over, father will forever be my slave, The Land
Between will soon enough be mine, and you will die by my
As I went in for the killing blow he threw his hand in
my face and blood hit my eyes. It's purifying magics
burned me so badly that I dropped my blade in order to
rub it from my eyes.
While I was doing this my brother took his swords from
his back and cut a cross into my rib cage and all i
could was fall to my knees. I tried to plead for mercy
but before I can he rips the Crown of Truth from my
head! I reverted back to the puny lich I was with only a
small fraction of my powers to me. The barrier began to
disappear and I knew that my end was near. Out o the
corner of my eye I saw Masahiro looking in. I knew I
couldn't stop my brother so I'd take one whom I thought
of as a friend. I charged at him and grabbed his
shoulders before he knew what was going on.
"If I'm going down I'm taking you with me!" I yelled as
a black stream of energy came from my eyes and wrapped
around Masahiro's face as he screamed in pain. But
before my curse could be complete I felt as though
someone had stabbed me in my back...then I fell into
Summer Year 10 of the 3rd Age,
The Lich Destroyed
We met the Fallen on the
battlefield. The Dwarf Baethor used his runic knowledge
to create three “Paladin swords”. He said they would
purify any of the fallen and bring them to the light.
Baethor, Rune and myself used these swords to smite the
Fallen. We destroyed the necromancers first. They then
were unable to turn anymore brothers. We saved as many
as we could, but several had to die. Tigron met his
brother Giggles on the field and it was he who brought
him down capturing his brother’s soul into a dagger.
Tigron explained that the good Giggles and the Lich were
two separate beings. The pirate said this Lich , though
severely weakened, could still be alive and could one
day return. We aren’t sure if Kanthea has been freed
of the Lich’s darkness since he was defeated. We still
need to investigate.
Late Spring Year 11 of the 3rd
Age, Sir Nichtmar
Greenskins Vs. Pinkies
After a series of murders leading
to a racial war on the streets of Mittelmarch peace was
found as Devias Harrow, a human, took over Lordship.
His new guard formed a truce with the Orcs and other
non-humans to kick out the old Guard. Now Harrow rules
with a firm grip, taxing the citizens to "strengthen
End of Summer Year 11 of the 3rd
Age, Sir Nichtmar
The Red Returns
All things die.
When you cut the head off the serpent it shouldn't
return, but in the field there's usually more than one
snake. The Jovian remnant now serve Harrow. A
Battle for control of Mittelmarch rages on and the
people suffer because of it. I was at peace
leaving Mittelmarch in Harrow's care until I heard of
the fiendish ways of pushing out non-humans.
Abusive guards, over taxing businesses, his objective
was clear. I called on the Defenders and my
Dragoon brothers. Along with other friends we
formed an Alliance to take back Mittelmarch. We've
pushed them back to the Lord's house. A well
protected section of the city. It will not be easy
and many more will die.
Winter of Year 12 of the 3rd
Age, Sir Nichtmar
A Change of Guard and a Coming Darkness
New blood has
stepped up to protect the honor and glory of Mittelmarch.
Storm, Lukan, Rune, Tari, and other young warriors have
brought new peace to our land. New faces like
Alexander and Brom fill me with faith that they will
help maintain this beautiful city.
The soil and stone
beneath my feet are soaked with the blood of brothers
and sisters from wars long past. Now, I fear
another threat is taking form. The whispers of
this Dark Father, from the underworld, demons
coming after the Azoth Gate to open a portal to unleash
his evil on our lands. Baethor, Rune, Anvil, and I
barely escaped the vial demons in the caves of the Iron
Mountains. Baethor has been the bearer of the Gate
for some time and I fear it may be having some effect on
History of Mittelmarch
Legion of the