Guild Wars Theorycrafting: Where in the World is Lazarus the Dire?

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"Accursed human! I will not forget this! Countless generations will suffer for your actions here today!"

These were the words spoken by Lazarus the Dire after the players of Guild Wars: Eye of the North foiled his nefarious plans. With those words, the last of the Unseen Ones limped off to some concealed lair to lick his wounds and plot revenge against the valiant heroes of Tyria. Players everywhere held their breath, waiting for our nemesis to make good on his word.

And we never saw him again. Where could he have gone?

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For those of you who don’t know who Lazarus is, I’ll explain. Lazarus the Dire is one of the mursaat, a race of ancient spellcasters worshipped by the White Mantle. They were around during the Elder Dragons’ first rise, but escaped by hiding in the Mists. For a long time after they returned to Tyria, they dominated Kryta through their White Mantle puppets, but were decimated during the events of Prophecies by both the players and the rampaging forces of Abaddon. 

While most of the other mursaat were doomed to be slaughtered in the crater of Abaddon’s Mouth, Lazarus escaped the same way his race did ages ago: hiding. He feigned death, in reality sealing facets of his power into a nearby band of White Mantle soldiers. Years later, he decided to retrieve them, discovering that doing so would slay the facet’s host. Lazarus didn’t care and began regathering his strength one unfortunate cultist at a time.

The last host, with the help of players and an asura named Glayvin, managed to damage his facet, but not destroy it. When Lazarus came calling, the damaged facet weakened him instead of healing him, sapping away most of the power he’d regained. He swore vengeance and escaped.

Finding him in Guild Wars 2 would be pretty difficult. The only mortals that can see the mursaat without their consent are humans that have become Ascended, and the only known way to do that is by participating in a ritual deep in the Crystal Desert. That’s not an option anymore, as the Crystal Desert has been swarming with Branded since Kralkatorrik’s rise. As far as we know, there isn’t a single person alive in Tyria that can see Lazarus. He could be standing five feet from Queen Jennah and we would never know.

But I believe it can be done. I think we can piece together not only where he might be hiding, but what he might be doing for revenge. Today, fellow adventurers, we do what no mortal in the history of Tyria has ever done: best a mursaat in a round of hide and seek.

To start, we head for his most likely target: Divinity’s Reach.

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Kryta’s capitol already has plenty of problems: centaurs, separatists, nosy adventurers constantly interfering in the lives of upstanding Ministry officials, and more. But there is one relevant to our interests. In the shadows of Kryta, sewing discontent, are the remains of the White Mantle. The organization has gone underground, doing their best to avoid the Shining Blade.

For a group that’s small, despised, and actively hunted by the kingdom’s elite forces, the White Mantle has been unusually aggressive. In the human Personal Story, a Mantle cell attempts to assassinate the player. Upon investigating, it’s discovered that we weren’t the only targets; they were planning a mass killing of every remotely important supporter of Queen Jennah, including Logan Thackeray and Countess Anise. I like to imagine that Lord Faren was on the list as well, just because I enjoy saving his particular ass.

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Poor guy just can’t catch a break, can he?

Back on the subject, we, Logan, and Anise put our heads together and stopped the plot, but that definitely isn’t the end of them. It’s been implied heavily that the White Mantle is behind Kryta’s current bandit epidemic, supplying and directing them. In edition to that, it’s been implied that more White Mantle are hiding out in the Maguuma Wastes, where we’re adventuring now. 

We know from their behavior in Prophecies that the mursaat don’t act directly unless they have no other option. They prefer to work from the shadows, using human agents to do their dirty work. I can’t really speak for Lazarus, but I think that if he’s going to work with anyone, he’s working with the people that worship him as a god. It’s a pretty safe bet that he’s with the Mantle.

But you know me. I don’t do ‘safe bets’. We can get more specific than that.

Their antics in the first game can offer us more clues. The mursaat didn’t just bunk with their cult; they followed around its leaders and protected them. Most people, sometimes even the Mantle leaders themselves, were unaware of their presence, in order to maintain their street cred as the all-powerful Unseen Ones. But if a problem arose, the mursaat would take care of it violently, working ‘miracles’. This habit of trailing leaders may not have ended. We’ve got a good idea of where he might be hiding… if we can figure out who the leader of the White Mantle is.

Whoever the leader is, they’re someone very rich and very powerful. After all, the White Mantle needs to have plenty of resources in order to stay a step ahead of the Shining Blade on their own turf. That points to someone in the Ministry. To be fair, though, that doesn’t narrow it down much. The Ministry is well known for its two major exports: political intrigue and corrupt old men. 

Further culling of the suspects is required. Who do the players know in the Ministry that is cunning enough to plan assassinations and terrorist attacks without allowing it to be traced back to them? A Minister that has ties to Kryta’s less savory elements? A Minister with lots of skeletons in their closet? A Minister that is willing to go to ruthless lengths to keep those skeletons hidden. The answer to those questions should be obvious to anyone that has a human character.

I put forth that Lazarus the Dire’s roommate is… Minister Caudecus.

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J’accuse!

Caudecus being with the Mantle is one of those things that makes sense if you think about it. He’s spent years trying to undermine Queen Jennah. He’s been behind several of the plots in the human Personal Story steps, and he even tried to have his daughter killed in the first Order of Whispers arc. He’s ruthless enough to kill, cunning enough to avoid blame, and wants Jennah gone.

The most convincing evidence, though, comes from the Caudecus’ Manor dungeon. In the story mode, separatists storm the manor, intending to kidnap Caudecus, Jennah, and several diplomats. We storm around the mansion, releasing them one by one. Except for Caudecus.

Caudecus got away on his own.

Logan was convinced that Caudecus was behind the attack in the first place, but I have a different theory. I think Caudecus was a victim in this case, and the separatists did genuinely want him dead. After all, he’s a corrupt noble, an amalgamation of everything they hate. But as soon as there was no one else around, something else stepped in and freed Caudecus. Something *ahem* unseen. How else could a frail old man have gotten away when everyone else (including an immensely powerful mesmer and a charr) needed rescuing?

So if Lazarus and Caudecus are in the same place, that means Lazarus is… at the royal palace… next to the throne… just a few feet from both the Queen of Kryta and the Shining Blade’s leader.

Damn, the mursaat really are good at hide and seek, aren’t they?

As always, remember to like and reblog if you enjoyed this installment’s crazy theory. And if you can come up with a better name for this series than the crushingly generic ‘Guild Wars Theorycrafting’, please message me.

Around the Campfire: Death of an Empire

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"It is possible to make no errors and still lose. That is not weakness. That is life." -Razah, being of the Mists

The next five hundred years after the Exodus of the Gods were eventful ones for humanity. After the Five left their quarters in Arah, Orr decided to follow in the footsteps of Ascalon and declared themselves an independent state. The Canthans, for the first time, began trading with the denizens of other continents, putting aside their isolationist roots. In Elona, the Primeval Kings spread their reach into the prosperous lands of Vabbi and the shattered plains of the Desolation, where Abaddon had been struck down. They had great statues built on Istan to celebrate their lives, and magnificent tombs constructed in the Crystal Desert to house them in death.

In order to make up for the loss of Orr, they sent expeditions further into the Sea of Sorrows and founded the colony-nation of Kryta. Kryta’s time as a colony would be short, as it seceded from Istani rule a mere fifty-seven years after it was founded. Perhaps the Primeval Dynasty would have made an example of them, but their fleet was busy on other matters.

It was around this time that the corsairs appeared on the Elonan coast. Filling the gap left by the vicious sea-faring Margonites, they were pirates, and very good at their job. They managed to outfox Istan’s massive navy by making use of the continent’s treacherous coastline. Captains would carefully map out shoals and reefs and use them as safe havens, watching with mirth as pursuing warships were smashed to bits by unseen rocks. Neither the Primeval Kings nor their successors would manage to root the corsairs out entirely; they would become a mainstay in Elonan life for generations to come.

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And yet, despite corsair attacks on the coast and the occasional charr invasion in Ascalon, there was surprisingly little bloodshed in this era. The humans were left to master the secrets of their new weapon, magic, in peace. 

This would end with the Scarab Plague.

The Scarab Plague’s origins are cloaked in mystery. None seem to know whether it was a conventional disease or a case of sorcery gone tragically awry. Nevertheless, the first records of the Plague place its beginning in Fahranur, the First City, in 452 AE. It was early in the reign of Nahlah and Dahlah, sisters that ruled Istan and its vassal states together as equals. Later, the Istani people claimed that they were the cause, believing that the Five Gods had sent the plague as a punishment for their frivolous rule.

Panic quickly spread through the city. The terror was helped along by its namesake side effects, in which scarabs would nest in the corpses of victims and devour the body from within. Once insect-infested bodies began to pile up, the royal family barred the palace and a quarantine was put in place. The gates were sealed shut, the harbors were closed, a curfew enforced. The city bled.

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By that point, though, it had been too late. Being the capitol of Istan, travelers had been entering and leaving the city constantly. Before the Plague had been discovered, several carriers had walked out of the gates with no idea that they were damning their nation. The Scarab Plague, and the chaos that came with it, reached the Istani countryside.

Those that were still untouched by the disease made for their boats and abandoned Istan by the thousands. Now able to recognize symptoms, the refugees barred the way for carriers. Warships anchored outside of Istan’s ports, sinking ships filled with infected. Despite their efforts, though, the plague escaped to mainland Elona, spreading far and wide. For a moment, it seemed that the continent was doomed to be a mass grave. 

And then… a miracle. Fewer began to catch the Plague, and still fewer died from it. Before long, no one was getting sick. It was as though the disease had simply stopped being contagious. The survivors breathed a collective sigh of relief as the last of the infected died. The Scarab Plague was gone, and though they would not find out why, they would take it as a blessing.

Istan would remain quarantined for some years afterward. When an expedition was finally launched, they found the city in ruins. Every man, woman, and child in Fahranur was dead from the Scarab Plague, including the royal family. The Dynasty of the Primeval Kings had been wiped out. There was no heir for Elona’s vast empire.

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Order was kept in the form of Admun Kolos. An Istani general, he founded the Great Dynasty and kept the Istani vassal states together, but this would only be temporary. In 583 AE, less than two hundred years after it began, the Great Dynasty collapsed without an heir apparent. This was the beginning of the Pretender Wars, in which numerous warlords claimed to be the true descendants of the Primeval Kings and fought for conquest of Elona. 

This was by far the bloodiest era of Elonan history. When the dust settled sixty years later, three kingdoms stood. There was Istan, having resettled their island but never their capitol; Kourna, a battle-hardened land eternally ready for war; and Vabbi, a loose assortment of merchants and their mercenaries. All fought each other to a standstill. Unable to crush their opponents, they agreed to parlay.

Ending the Pretender Wars, the three kingdoms agreed on a pact. There would be no more unity in Elona. Instead, each kingdom would be separate but equal, contributing to the welfare of the others in their own way. Kourna would provide military support to the others, Istan would patrol the seas and keep pirates at bay, and Vabbi would ensure that wealth flowed freely through the land.

An uneasy peace settled through Elona for the first time in many years. Its people were divided, but strong. But like the vast empire Istan had once commanded, this peace could not last.

Did you enjoy this installment of Around the Campfire? Remember to give this piece a like and a reblog in the memory of the Scarab Plague’s victims.

Around the Campfire: Four Legions

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"I’ve been thinking about the charr. I believe they can be domesticated."  -Vekk

The charr had always been a race of warriors—they had to be in order to survive. Though the plains of Diessa seemed idyllic at first glance, the charr had to contend with many rivals. Tribes of ogres and grawl stalked the fertile fields, fighting and slaying any charr they encountered. The charr responded to this bloodshed by devoting themselves to the art of war. Ideals of honor and glory on the battlefield trumped cowardly things like ‘negotiation’ and ‘pacifism’. Charr warbands, like their ancient enemies, would fight any rival they encountered, slaying them without remorse if the situation called for it. 

Regrettably, that included each other. The charr respected only strength, and warbands would not collaborate unless one conquered the other through force. The race found themselves in the same unfortunate position as the humans of Cantha had been in centuries ago: unable to put aside their own infighting, they were doomed to fight their enemies to a stalemate. 

But the humans had united eventually, through the cunning and conquest of Kaineng Tah. The charr would one day find their own legendary conqueror as well. His true name lost to legend, this peerless warrior wandered Diessa and defeated every charr he came across, warband by warband. Each one he outfought would join his cause, bowing before him as they had no charr before him. Soon he had an army, and he was eager to unleash it and take vengeance on the creatures that had hunted his people.

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Before long, thousands of charr descended on the other races of Diessa. They defeated ogres, grawl, and even dwarves that had settled too far from their mountain fortresses, driving them out of the plains. For the first time in history, the charr didn’t just have scattered warbands and lives of constant peril. They had a home, a society, a civilization. The warrior responsible for it all was crowned the Khan-Ur, the supreme ruler of the charr. 

His reign would be bloody, as there were always those seeking to challenge him and take the title for himself. None ever could; every charr brave enough to fight him would meet their grisly end the day of their duel. Despite the constant threat to his life, the Khan-Ur lived long enough to father four children and see them reach adulthood.

His long and legendary rule came to an end, though, once humanity reached Diessa. Elonan settlers, upon seeing such a fertile land, knew that it was the perfect place to craft a kingdom. The charr, always warriors, would not allow these strange new foes to claim their land without paying its price in blood. The charr attacked the settlers, and war was quickly declared by both sides.

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At first, the charr had the upper hand in the conflict. Not only was each charr soldier faster and stronger than any human, but years of being hunted across Diessa by ogres had given them unparalleled knowledge of the land. It was easy, trivial even, to lure the newcomers into traps. The humans were outnumbered, outmatched, and outmaneuvered at every turn. 

But the humans were quick to discover a weakness. Though the charr stood as a united front, their tendency toward infighting was still there. It had only been suppressed by the Khan-Ur, not erased. If the Khan-Ur were to fall without an heir apparent, the charr war machine would collapse almost instantly. In that chaos, the humans would be able to step in, mop up what little resistance remained, and take the land for their own.

The solution was obvious. The humans sent assassins. 

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The Khan-Ur was used to fighting challengers on the open battlefield, honor and decorum upheld by all. Cloaked men with knives in the middle of the night was unheard of in charr society. Perhaps that was why it worked. The human assassins caught the legendary warrior off-guard, slew him quickly and silently, and vanished into the night. Their grim deed done, all they needed to do now was wait for their victim’s body to be found. 

When it inevitably was, the chaos began immediately. The Khan-Ur had fathered four sons, and all of them wanted the throne. Sides were picked, drunken brawls were started, and the charr turned on each other. The humans arrived just as planned, picking off those smart enough to stay out of the conflict and falling on the infighting army. 

The charr had no choice. Their army routed, their numbers diminished, the survivors fled north into the Iron Marches. The humans did not pursue. They had Diessa, that was all they wanted. The end to their tale I’ve already told you: the humans founded Ascalon and named Doric as their king. 

The charr, though, still had unresolved issues. The Khan-Ur’s four sons still had not decided who would replace their father. Each had their own warband and their own way of exacting revenge against the humans. The Blood Warband were front-line soldiers and believed that the rest of charr society should their example. The Ash Warband were spies that thought their race should embrace their more cunning nature. The Iron Warband were engineers that were convinced that technology was the way to victory on the battlefield. Last but not least, the Flame Warband were shamans that put emphasis on the mystic arts. 

The charr argued for years and no obvious contenders revealed themselves. Eventually, a compromise was reached. Charr society was split into four parts, each following one of the brothers and their philosophy. These were the High Legions, and they were named for the brothers’ warbands: Blood, Ash, Iron, and Flame.

Though none of the four would bow to another, the Legions would cooperate. At the end of the day, despite all of their differences, they had a common goal… vengeance. The charr vowed to reclaim Ascalon, even if it took centuries. But though the charrs’ race-wide quest for vengeance would be destined to succeed, it would also be co-opted by more sinister forces. A bargain was going to be struck that the charr were going to regret.

Did you enjoy this installment of Around the Campfire? Be sure to like and reblog, and remember this important moral: never piss off a charr.

Around the Campfire: Gift of the Forgotten God

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"Abaddon! Lord of the Everlasting Depths, Keeper of Secrets, open mine eyes and bestow upon me the knowledge of the Abyss that I might smite mine enemies and send them to the watery depths!" -Jadoth, the first ascended Margonite

Ever since their arrival on Cantha, the humans worshipped six gods. There was Balthazar, God of Fire and War; Melandru, Goddess of Nature and Earth; Dwayna, Goddess of Life and Air; Lyssa, Goddess of Beauty and Illusion; Dhuum, God of Ice and Death; and Abaddon, God of Water and Secrets. As humanity loved, lost, and forged empires that would last centuries, the Six Gods watched over their favored peoples and assured their prosperity. 

The years passed, and humanity expanded farther than the gods had ever dreamed it would. Elona began to extend its reach into the Tyrian continent, establishing Orr as a colony. The gods decided to become more involved in human affairs and settled in Arah, the capitol of Orr, among the people. Though the humans were thrilled to be living among the beings they paid homage to, this move would prove to have far-reaching consequences.

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It began with Dhuum. Living among the people, he became displeased with the rules of death. Ghosts, usually consigned to wander the Mists, frequently manifested on Tyria to end unfinished business and speak to their loved ones one last time. Deciding that dead should truly mean dead, he banished ghosts from the world of the living, punishing souls that would seek to subvert the exile. The other gods were angered by this, but would not wage war with their brother.

It would take a being that was neither mortal nor immortal to defeat Dhuum. Dwayna, the most passionate and loving of the gods, fell in love with a mortal man and bore a child with him. This child’s name was Grenth, and he grew up with the powers of a demigod. As he reached adulthood, he too grew angry with Dhuum. Gathering nine of his most loyal followers, he set out to the Cathedral of Silence to confront him.

Dhuum did not take kindly to this half-mortal mongrel telling him what to do and attempted to strike Grenth down. Grenth, with the power he inherited from Dwayna, fought back and defeated Dhuum, stealing his power and becoming the new God of Ice and Death. The weakened Dhuum was imprisoned in the Underworld, his former domain in the Mists, where he remains to this day. Grenth’s loyal followers were granted a portion of his power and became the Reapers, his immortal servants. Though the other gods were saddened by Dhuum’s fall, they embraced Grenth as their new comrade.

As all of this was happening in Orr, though, trouble was brewing on the Crystal Sea.

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As the years had passed, a sect had emerged among the humans known as the Margonites. Unlike the others, they worshipped Abaddon exclusively, becoming sea-faring pirates. They harassed the other races of Tyria, burning and pillaging. Eventually, the acolytes of the God of Secrets found themselves in conflict with the fittingly-named Forgotten, who dispatched a fleet to wipe them out once and for all.

In their most dire hour, the Margonites cried out to Abaddon for help, and Abaddon answered. Against the wishes of the other gods, he granted them a gift, an artifact of great power forged long before their rule on Tyria.

The Bloodstone. 

Still charged with magic from the ancient races of Tyria, the Margonites happily unleashed the Bloodstone’s power on the Forgotten, annihilating their fleet. But this act had a side effect. By releasing the power stored in the Bloodstone back upon the world, the races of Tyria could once again wield magic. The humans and other younger races had never experienced such great power before. Many became consumed by that power and did terrible things with it, causing the sort of chaos that hadn’t been seen on Tyria for thousands of years.

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King Doric of Ascalon made a pilgrimage to Arah and begged the gods to take the gift of magic back. All of the gods were sympathetic to his plight save one. No matter how much Doric pleaded, no matter how many people suffered, Abaddon would not take back his gift. Though the gods had been willing to allow Dhuum to subvert the laws of death, they would not allow the entire world to suffer for Abaddon’s arrogance. The five of them attacked Abaddon, forcing him out of Arah. 

Enraged, Abaddon gathered his Margonites and infused them with the Bloodstone’s power. Those willing to accept Abaddon’s second gift became inhuman abominations fueled by destruction and chaos. In addition, he used his vast power as the God of Secrets to create the Titans, magical constructs built for the sole purpose of killing.

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His terrible army assembled, Abaddon unleashed it against Arah and the other gods. But Dwayna, Grenth, Lyssa, Balthazar, and Melandru had marshalled their own forces, bolstered by King Doric’s army. Abaddon’s forces were repelled, and the God of Secrets retreated to Elona. The gods, and Doric, followed with everything they had, determined to put an end to Abaddon before the world could suffer any more.

They found Abaddon at the Mouth of Torment, attempting to bolster his forces with more magic and more constructs. With nowhere to run, Abaddon and his Margonites fought to the last in a desperate struggle. It was all for naught; just as Dhuum had been, Abaddon was struck down. His domain within the Mists was transformed by the gods into the Realm of Torment, a prison for Abaddon and his army where they would languish for all eternity.

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But that was only part of the punishment. The gods also struck Abaddon’s name from the history books. His deeds, accomplishments, mannerisms, and even appearance were erased. The Six Gods became Five. It was the worst punishment they could devise. The God of Secrets was himself forgotten.

With Abaddon no longer protecting the Bloodstone, the gods seized it but found they could not store the world’s magic within it. That knowledge had been lost with the Seers. They found a solution. They managed to bind Tyria’s magic to the Bloodstone and split it into five pieces, limiting the hold the races of Tyria had on it. The power of magic restricted, the gods cast the Bloodstone into the volcano known as Abaddon’s Mouth.

In the throes of victory, though, a problem arose. Unlike with Dhuum, there was no one willing to take Abaddon’s position as God of Water and Secrets. Without anyone to take the mantle, Abaddon remained at full power and his influence on Tyria waned. Oceans lowered and the Crystal Sea dried up, becoming a harsh desert. 

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The gods, now five in number, realized that they had become too involved in human affairs. They abandoned their quarters in Arah and returned to the Mists. This was 0 AE, the Exodus of the Gods. Before they left, though, they appeared before King Doric one last time. As thanks, they granted Doric an enchanted crown and two enchanted swords, Magdaer and Sohothin, with which to defend his kingdom.

With that business concluded, they left Tyria, never to return. 

Did you enjoy this installment of Around the Campfire? Remember to like and reblog in the name of Abaddo—er, Kormir! I was totally gonna say Kormir, guys.

Around the Campfire: Rise of Humanity

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"Destruction seems a natural part of the human condition." -Razah, being of the Mists

According to human legend, humanity did not begin on the world of Tyria. Rather, they believe that they were brought here by their gods from some other world across the Mists. Other races such as the sylvari, who don’t believe in the Six Gods, argue otherwise, claiming that they came from some faraway land across the Unending Ocean.

Scholars can agree though that their first brush with recorded history came in 786 BE, when they landed on Shing Jea Island off the coast of Cantha. There were no human kingdoms or empires then, only scattered tribes that quickly attracted the ire of Cantha’s bird-like natives, the tengu.

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Tengu and human warred for well over two hundred years. The humans, disorganized as they were, could not take their enemy’s ancestral lands, while the tengu could not fully drive the invaders from Cantha. But humanity has the annoying habit of uniting in the face of adversity. That unity came in the form of the frustrated warlord Kaineng Tah. 

Kaineng didn’t have the numbers to face the tengu on the open battlefield, so he instead focused his energies on conquering the other human tribes. This strategy proved to be a success, uniting his people with relatively little bloodshed. With a united front for the first and last time in history, they stormed the Canthan mainland, capturing the northwest coast and advancing inland to Echovald Forest. By 510 BE, they had established the borders of what would come to be known as the Empire of the Dragon. Kaineng Tah would rule it until his death half a century later. The capitol would be renamed Kaineng City in his honor. As the centuries passed, the city grew, eventually encompassing a significant portion of the Canthan continent. 

This was humanity’s first empire of many, and there was discontent. Shortly after Kaineng’s death, two of the human tribes, the Luxons and the Kurzicks, seceded from the empire and became vassal states. They would inhabit the lands to the south and grow a fierce rivalry, spilling blood over a sleight long forgotten. Other groups unhappy with the Empire’s rule sailed northeast across the Unending Ocean, discovering the continent of Elona.

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Several kingdoms would spring up in Elona over the years, but all would suffer the same fate as their kin in Cantha: unity. In 200 BE, the island kingdom of Istan went on the warpath, making landfall on the southern coast and seizing a vast swathe of the continent. So began a long line of Elonan rulers, the Primeval Kings, who ruled this new empire for over seven hundred years.

Istan would expand its borders far inland, but that wasn’t enough for them. They sent expeditions across the Crystal Sea with the intent to establish colonies. For the first time, they made landfall on the Tyrian continent. Since the rise of the Elder Dragons, the land had recovered, once again capable of supporting life and civilization. The colonists saw this land of plenty and were quick to establish the kingdom of Orr as a vassal to Elona. The elder races of Tyria, still diminished from their conflict with the dragons, did nothing to stop them, though they did watch with suspicion.

Another group of colonists would find themselves east of the Shiverpeaks and the fertile plains of Diessa. They were eager to establish a kingdom there, but they had a problem. Just as Cantha had been, these lands were claimed by another race: the fierce and unwavering charr.

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The charr would turn out to be just as tenacious as the tengu had been, not giving an inch without bloodshed. But humans were both determined and cunning. They singled out the leader of the race, the Khan-Ur, and assassinated him. The charr quickly fell into infighting and retreated north. It would take several hundred years for them to reorganize, though they would eventually have their revenge on the human scourge.

The humans established the kingdom of Ascalon on the former homeland of the charr. Unlike Orr, though, Ascalon decided that it would be an independent nation, unbeholden to any foreign. They crowned Doric, a humble war hero from their conflict with the charr, as their first king. Elona was not happy with this, but so far away from the fertile fields of Ascalon, there was little they could do but accept it.

This story of conquest and kings, though, was only half of the tale. On their quest for dominance, the humans were guided by unspeakably powerful beings from beyond the Mists: the Six Gods. Stay close, for soon I will be recounting a second story, one of betrayal, bloodshed, and magic.

Did you enjoy this taste of history? Don’t forget to like and reblog for the glory of the Dragon Empire!