In the early days of Elanthera, the kingdoms were bound by a mutual respect and shared vision of peace. Elves, humans, goblins, ghouls, and minotaurs came together in celebration, united by common goals and traditions. Regions thrived, and people freely traveled between lands, trading knowledge and resources. This golden age of cooperation became the foundation upon which Elanthera's culture and prosperity flourished.
However, as the generations passed, small disagreements began to emerge. Minor disputes over borders, resources, and customs slowly frayed the bonds of unity. Lines were drawn, and the spirit of cooperation began to wane, giving way to underlying tensions.
The tipping point came during a seemingly innocent gathering between dignitaries of Thalindor and Grimhold. A tragic accident led to the untimely deaths of two prominent figures—a high-ranking Elven advisor and a beloved Goblin emissary. The loss was felt deeply by both kingdoms, and outrage spread as rumors of sabotage and treachery took hold. What should have been a peaceful memorial turned into a spark for the Great War, tearing Elanthera apart as alliances fractured and trust eroded.
The Great War was a defining conflict that tore through Elanthera, pitting kingdom against kingdom in a battle for dominance. Factions formed uneasy alliances, united only by the threat of annihilation, yet even these alliances were marred by mistrust and sabotage. As the war raged on, suspicions grew, and battles were lost not only to enemies but to betrayal within their own ranks. The fallout from these betrayals shaped the delicate and uneasy peace that would follow.
The alliances between kingdoms became fragile. Each faction held tightly to its own sense of righteousness, with bitter accusations exchanged long after the war's end. The fractured loyalties and resentments ultimately contributed to the war's chaotic end—and to the strange, inexplicable event that followed.
“We held the line until the last man, our warriors' shields raised as they always have been. But where were the Ghouls when the enemy broke through? We saw them retreat under the cover of darkness. Their claim of regrouping is a lie— we were left to die, abandoned by our so-called allies.”
“We lost countless lives that night, yet the Minotaurs claim betrayal. They do not see the cost of our sacrifice. If they had listened, had held to the plan, perhaps we would not have needed to retreat. But they rushed forward, and we were forced to defend ourselves in their absence.”
“We saw it all unravel as we warned it would. The others mocked our caution, dismissing our strategies as unnecessary. But who stands now with clean hands? It was our foresight that prevented greater bloodshed, and yet they scoff. We acted with wisdom, while others scrambled in chaos.”
“We witnessed treachery through the Elanthera Mirror, visions of clandestine meetings and hidden agendas. They laughed, called us paranoid. But we know what we saw. Who dares challenge the truth that even the Mirror itself revealed? We know their secret ambitions.”
As the war drew to a close, something strange took hold. The details of the Great War's final days have become hazy, almost as if veiled by an otherworldly force. Many recount an overwhelming sense of dread and a disturbing calm before the chaos subsided. Whatever truly ended the conflict remains unknown, obscured by time and divine intervention. To this day, the memory of the Cataclysm lingers in Elanthera, forever altering its landscape and its people.
The Great War had finally reached a tenuous peace. Treaties were signed, leaders shook hands, and a fragile calm spread across the kingdoms. Yet in what should have been a new dawn, an unspeakable calamity struck. Known only as “The Cataclysm,” this event tore apart the lands, shattering cities and leaving scars that defy even the mightiest magic.
But why? To this day, none can say for certain what provoked such devastation. Even the records of the Great War's final days are obscured, as if wrapped in fog. Some recall a flash of blinding light, others speak of tremors that rumbled for days, and all agree that the skies turned dark for weeks, casting Elanthera into a haunting twilight.
Yet whispers endure of something more… a deeper reason, buried by time and divinely obscured. Some blame it on ancient powers long forbidden, others on mortal hubris, but the truth is out of reach. The land itself bears the curse of this mystery—a desolate, haunted region known only as Blightmark, where few dare to tread.
In time, the gods became silent on the matter, and none know what truly ended the Great War. Only that something far greater than kings and kingdoms reshaped the land.
In the wake of the cataclysm, Elanthera has entered a delicate era of peace. Leaders of each kingdom, humbled by the vast, unknown force that reshaped their world, agreed upon a lasting treaty. The Games of the Kingdoms, held every three years in Thar-Gann's grand arena, offer an outlet for lingering tensions. Here, teams from each kingdom gather to test their strength and strategy, with the Elanthera Mirror as the coveted prize.
The Mirror itself is more than just a symbol—it is a powerful artifact that grants its holder the ability to observe any place within Elanthera. By giving each kingdom an equal chance to possess it, the Games ensure that no single faction dominates this valuable tool. This fragile arrangement has preserved the peace, even if it hangs by a thread.
Yet, peace does not mean complacency. Throughout the lands, whispers persist of those who feel an irresistible pull toward uncovering the truth of the cataclysm. Adventurers, scholars, and curious minds wander the lands, seeking fragments of knowledge and remnants of power lost to time. Some say they are guided by visions, dreams, or faint whispers—suggesting that the cataclysm's mystery is not meant to rest in silence. Despite the treaty, the past beckons to the brave, tempting them toward answers hidden beneath Elanthera's quiet surface.
