Sunday, February 5, 2012

The Land of Quod

Beyond the Wall
This is all that we know…

For one thousand years, the land of Quod was ruled by the Yob-Slobbersloth, the Beast from the Black Star and his Dark Clerics. The sky was cloaked in night and terrible creatures stalked the earth. The Dark Clerics walked unmolested as they seized the most beautiful, most pure of the people for their hideous, inhuman rites in their Obsidian Temples. And so it went…

Then one day, a young man by the name of Kal Bladesemmer dared to strike down a Dark Cleric who had come to take his wife for the Obsidian Temple. The cleric’s guards fought back and in the ensuing battle, Kal’s wife was killed and their village was burned to the ground. Kal was wounded, but survived, fleeing into the hills where he was nursed back to health by an old hermit under a curse of silence called Whisper. When Kal’s wounds fully healed, Whisper began to train him in the forgotten ways of the Morning Knights, a mythical order of guardians and warriors from long before the coming of the Black Star. After five years of gruelling training, Whisper bestowed upon Kal the legendary Sword of Dawn and made him swear an oath to defeat Yob-Slobbersloth or die in the attempt. And so it went…

Kal Bladesemmer was soon joined by a group of likeminded companions who’s names have become Legend: Rhiannon, the Priestess of Dawn; Nakor Swiftbow, the Elven Archer; Poe Vladus the Night Mage; Darven Sunsheild the Dwarf; Harf Littlefoot the Thief; Jorm Munganare, the Iron Priest; Xerxes the Wizard; and finally the infamous Fell Darkpath, now known as the Traitor. And so it went…

After many years, and many adventures, including the betrayal of Darkpath and loss of brave Littlefoot, the companions finally defeated Yob Slobbersloth in the halls of his Star Palace and cast him, and his Dark Star into the Realm Beyond. They returned to Quod as heroes, but heroes in a land torn apart, unable to heal itself and without leadership or guidance. The companions decided to divide the land equally; Jorm took the lands north of the Iron Fjords; Darvin the Dwarf took all the Southern Mountains; Poe Vladus took all the last east of the Screaming Cliffs; Nakor Swiftbow returned home to rule the western forests know as the Eternal Glades; Rhiannon claimed the small peninsula that bears her name; while Xerxes claimed only one island in the middle of the Ringed Sea and the established the Second Lyceum of Magic. Kal Bladesemmer took the central regions and build a mighty castle there that he claimed belonded to all his companions. At the centre of the castle there were arraigned seven empty thrones around a giant circular table. In a great ceremony, each companion pledged to rule their lands fairly, and to only to sit upon a throne when there in Castle of the Morning Star surrounded by his or her fellows. And so it went…

An age of peace came to Quod. No one is sure how long it lasted, but the first cracks appears when Darven Sunshield laid claim to the Green Hills on the border of the Eternal Glades. Nakor claimed that the hills contained the ruins of an elven city and was therefore sacred, but by the time the matter was brought to the attention of the other companions, Sunshield’s dwarves had already dug deep into the hills. Meanwhile Jorm and Poe had quarrelled over raiding Iron Men from the north and Undead intrusions from the south. Kal quickly organized a Council of Thrones and demanded all attend, but before but before all could all be summoned, some terrible, cataclysmic event occurred in the city of Ulmar, home of the Second Lyceum that unleashed the swirling storm known as the Final Tempest. And so it went…The Tempest expanded slowly, but inexorably across the land, swallowing everything in its path. Already torn apart by petty battles and despite the pleadings of Rhiannon and Kal, each companion decided to fight the Tempest alone. Here the records become sparse, but we do that the last region reached by the Tempest was our home, the Peninsula of Rhian. To spare us from the storm, Rhiannon made a deal with the gods, her lifeforce would be used to create a mighty shield over our lands, one that could protect us from the Tempest. And so it went…

Records of that time tell that when the Tempest hit, the shield rang like a mighty bell, but it held, though for two years our sky was cloaked in black clouds and people claim to have seen terrible things beating against the shield, high overhead. And so it past and the skies cleared, but the shield remained to protect us from whatever terrible damage had been done beyond our peninsula. Five hundred years have past in peace, but still the last of the Knights of Morning stand by the Last Bridge to this day, watching the shimmering patterns of the shield.

And so it went until the day when Old Rolf, the Morning Knight arrived at the Temple of the Sunrise with terrible, terrible news; Two days past, a swallow had settled on the wheel of an ox cart. Our shield is weakening, and soon the terrible forces from beyond will decend upon our peaceful land. It is up to you, the brave volunteers to venture forth beyond the shield and explore the lands beyond. There is no guarantee that you will return, but should you survive, we beg of you to find some way to send word back to us of lays beyond. The survival of all you know depends upon it. May the morning light always be upon your face …

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