Volume I
Introduction
Throughout the history of the West Marches, the world has been shaped and reshaped by cataclysmic events that have left indelible marks upon the landscape and its people. These moments, many of which span centuries, serve as stark reminders of the fragile nature of civilizations and the often unpredictable forces—both mortal and divine—that govern existence. The following volume, The Books of Eschatology, aims to catalog and analyze eight of the most significant calamities to befall the West Marches. Though the causes of these events are often shrouded in myth or lost to time, their consequences are felt to this day.
I. The War of Forgotten Names (Year: Unknown – Circa 537 W.M.)
Of all the tragedies to have befallen the West Marches, none is so cryptically referenced nor so devastating in scale as the War of Forgotten Names. The conflict allegedly began over an inconsequential argument during a game of Bocce, played in the gardens of a king whose name has since been expunged from all records, and whose deeds are similarly lost to history. Initially, this altercation escalated into minor skirmishes between rival nobles. Over time, however, personal affronts and political slights accumulated until entire regions were drawn into the conflict. Historians estimate that, at its height, the war involved over forty major territories, each seeking to assert dominance over the others, though none could articulate the original cause by that point. The king at the center of this catastrophe was slain, though the circumstances of his death are obscure. Neither his final resting place nor the moment of his demise are known, which has only contributed to the obfuscation of the war’s origin. The sheer absurdity of the cause and the anonymity of the monarch are now etched into the collective memory of scholars as a warning: even trivial events, when left unchecked, may spiral into irrevocable disaster.
II. The Micabin Sorrows (598 W.M.)
Micabin Gorge, a natural canyon renowned for its towering, jagged walls, was once home to a thriving settlement and castle complex. The castle, carved into the very rock face of the gorge, stood as a symbol of impregnable defense. However, this citadel would become the focal point of a ruinous conflict now referred to as the Siege of Micabin. The exact causes of the siege remain contested, with some attributing it to territorial disputes between rival kingdoms, while others suggest a feud over long-lost relics buried deep within the gorge. The conflict soon escalated into a protracted war that culminated in a catastrophic assault on the castle itself. Siege engines of unprecedented scale were deployed, causing sections of the gorge to collapse and permanently altering the landscape. What remains of Micabin today is a hollowed ruin, the wind howling through the canyon like the cries of the countless souls lost in the war. The once-mighty fortress now lies abandoned, haunted by those who perished in the siege. This site, now called the Micabin Sorrows, serves as a grim reminder of the futility of territorial ambition, its ghostly winds carrying whispers of the dead to those who dare venture near.
III. The Julhen Prophecy (235 W.M. – 841 W.M.)
Few events in history are as enigmatic or as destructive as the Julhen Prophecy. It is said that on his deathbed, the Archmage Luthren Julhen spoke a cryptic prophecy concerning an unborn child, a savior or destroyer, whose birth would alter the fate of the West Marches. The details of the prophecy are known only through fragmented accounts, but it is widely believed that the prophecy sparked a conflict that would rage for centuries. The prophecy ignited a religious and political schism, with factions rising in support of or opposition to the foretold child. For hundreds of years, rival kingdoms, faiths, and mage orders fought to either ensure or prevent the prophecy’s fulfillment. Entire lineages were slaughtered, with rulers driven mad by their attempts to divine whether they or their descendants might bear the prophesied child. The war claimed millions of lives and laid waste to vast swathes of the West Marches. To this day, scholars debate whether the prophecy was ever fulfilled or if it was nothing more than the ravings of a dying man. Regardless, the prophecy’s effects are unquestionable: it reshaped the political landscape of the West Marches for generations, and its unanswered questions continue to haunt the archives of those who study such matters.
IV. The Shattering of Vorhund (349 W.M.)
The kingdom of Vorhund was once a thriving empire, its capital regarded as a jewel of civilization, rivaling even the ancient elven cities in splendor. However, this empire met its end in a single day, now known as the Shattering of Vorhund. Vorhund’s ruin came from beneath. Ancient dwarven delvers, attempting to harness the power of the underdark, inadvertently awakened a primordial entity of unspeakable power, known only as The Sleeper Beneath. When it emerged from its subterranean prison, the ground cracked, and the earth swallowed the capital whole. The creature’s awakening triggered devastating earthquakes, toppling cities and swallowing entire regions. Within hours, Vorhund was no more, its capital lost beneath the earth, and its people scattered. The Sleeper returned to its slumber, and the ruins of Vorhund were left to decay, overgrown and forsaken. The event is a reminder of the dangers of meddling with forces beyond mortal understanding, and to this day, no one dares delve deep into the ruins.
V. The Sundering of the Twin Suns (901 W.M.)
In the year 901, the sky itself was split in what became known as the Sundering of the Twin Suns. For reasons still hotly debated among scholars, two celestial bodies appeared in the heavens, both resembling the sun, and both vying for dominance over the sky. The simultaneous presence of the suns caused chaos, disrupting natural rhythms and plunging the world into an unnatural twilight that lasted for nearly a decade. Crops failed, disease ran rampant, and society fell into disarray as the land was subjected to scorching days and freezing nights. Temples of various faiths claimed responsibility or placed blame, with different orders rising to power as the chaos unfolded. Cults worshiped the twin suns, believing them to herald a new age, while others foresaw the end of the world. The phenomenon eventually faded, but the scars left by the ten years of twilight remain, both on the land and in the minds of those who survived. The causes of the event are still unknown, and the twin suns have never been seen since.
VI. The Great Silence of Avora (432 W.M.)
The once-thriving city-state of Avora was a center for knowledge, trade, and magic, a beacon of civilization in the heart of the West Marches. However, in 432 W.M., the city was struck by a mysterious calamity that has come to be known as the Great Silence. Without warning, every living creature within the city walls—human, animal, and even plant life—was rendered utterly mute. Over the course of a single night, Avora became a silent graveyard. No records survive that explain the origin of this catastrophe. Theories abound, ranging from a magical curse to a failed experiment involving communication with extraplanar beings. Attempts to study the phenomenon led to further tragedy, as any who entered the city became afflicted with the same silent curse. To this day, the city remains abandoned, its streets empty save for the occasional echo of footsteps that no living soul dares to claim. The Great Silence serves as a grim reminder of the power of unknown forces and the fragility of civilization.
VII. The Bloodplague of Torr (521 W.M. – 523 W.M.)
In 521 W.M., the kingdom of Torr was struck by one of the most virulent and deadly plagues in recorded history. Known as the Bloodplague, it began in the city of Torrholm and quickly spread across the entire kingdom. Victims suffered from extreme fever, followed by hemorrhaging from the eyes, nose, and skin. Death was certain within three days of infection. The Bloodplague decimated the population of Torr, killing nearly two-thirds of its inhabitants within the first six months. Entire towns were abandoned, and the countryside became littered with the unburied dead. Attempts to quarantine the disease failed, as refugees from the kingdom unknowingly spread the plague to neighboring lands. The Bloodplague eventually burned itself out after two years, leaving the kingdom of Torr a desolate wasteland. The source of the plague remains unknown, though many suspect it to have been the result of a failed alchemical experiment or a divine punishment for the kingdom’s transgressions.
VIII. The Inferno of Velaric (700 W.M.)
The city of Velaric, once the heart of the trade routes across the southern reaches of the West Marches, was destroyed in a single night by a firestorm of unimaginable scale. The Inferno of Velaric began without warning, consuming the city’s wood and stone alike. The fire burned with such intensity that the very rivers surrounding Velaric boiled away. Legends claim that the fire was summoned by a circle of mages attempting to commune with an ancient fire elemental, while others insist that it was a divine punishment for the city’s excesses and moral decay. Whatever the cause, Velaric was reduced to ashes within hours, and the surrounding lands became barren, the soil scorched beyond repair. The Inferno of Velaric remains a cautionary tale for mages and rulers alike, a reminder of the destructive power of elemental forces and the dangers of hubris in the pursuit of power.
Conclusion
These eight events represent only a fraction of the calamities that have shaped the history of the West Marches. Though each is unique in its cause and consequences, they all serve as reminders of the precarious nature of existence and the ever-present possibility of cataclysm. As we continue to study the past, we must remain vigilant in our efforts to prevent such disasters from repeating in the future.
End of Volume I
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