For now, this topic will hold the timeline so far, along with related files, as attachments. Look for this to change as progress is made, and for the attached files to be updated as well.
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Pre-Creation - The formation of the realms as chaotic and shapeless raw energy.
15000? – 8000
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Leading up to the First Age
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8000 Years Ago – A time of pure neutrality without the existence of good or evil. The planes were but in early stages yet still pure energy waiting to take shape. There were two entities, The Father (The One) and The Mother (The Maker) that existed in harmony. Together they fabricated a realm of balance where all things lived in peace with each other. Over time an unsettled darkness began to grow within The Father and in secret, he began to weave the Plane of Shadow. He created beings that he called demons from the shadows of this plane, and gave them a piece of this new darkness, this evil that was growing within him. The more he wove, the darker he grew until being consumed by the evil.
7700 – 7400 Years Ago – The Father breaks away from the neutrality and becomes The One, taking dominion over his Plane of Shadow. He creates an army of demons and grotesque, deformed creatures using the dark magics of the Plane of Shadow. The Mother sees this and knows that she must break from the neutrality if she is to restore the balance. She weaves the Plane of Light and uses its holy magics to create an army of angels and titans to battle The One with his vile army of demons. A battle rages across the planes for several hundred years, nearly shattering the realm of neutrality created by the two together.
7400 – 6000 Years Ago – The Mother and her army finally drive the armies of The One back into the Plane of Shadow and sends the angels and titans back to the Plane of Light. Weeping for the loss of neutrality, she returns to the war torn realm and begins to rebuild. Taking on the form of a gigantic mystical tree, she becomes The Maker and creates a new realm where she hopes neutrality will hold thus giving birth to the realm of mortals, Sentience.
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The First Age (Age of Creation)
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5000 Years Ago – The Maker weaves the mountains, and forests, and plains. The tears of her sorrow fill the lakes, the oceans, and the rivers. She creates the first of the mortal creatures in the shape of neutrality. Though the creatures of the mortal realm are not yet sentient, they gather around her form, drawing comfort and strength from their creator.
5000 - 4800 Years Ago - Many creatures worry about giving into their base instincts, a race known as the Bii'Larnsk are created to serve as a model of a perfect neutral society. The Bii'Larnsk was possibly the first sentient mortal creatures in the cosmos, but quickly grew corrupt, using their superior intellect and strength to dominate the lesser races.
4800 Years Ago – Amidst the tyranny of the Bii’Larnsk, the lesser races began meeting in secret, forming seven secret societies. There were seven chosen to rise amidst the disarray of the failing Bii'Larnsk rule, one chosen from each secret society. These seven were in truth, beings of pure energy that had taken mortal shape in order to manipulate the mortal realm more directly. They war with each other at first, forging the paths which would later become familiarity to many adventurers of the modern age, but in the end, the seven, the Dracoliches come together in an effort to destroy The Maker to control the realms themselves.
4700 Years Ago - Vrack, youngest of the Seven, comes to battle The Maker, now in a mobile, mortal shell, in single combat. Eight orbs are placed around the battlefield, to ward off those who would dare interfere. Far out of his league, Vrack calls upon the other Dracoliches for aid, and one by one they are imprisoned within six separate orbs by The Maker. Vrack, attempting to flee, was imprisoned in the seventh orb. Knowing now, that she no longer had influence over the mortals, The Maker binds the fates of the seven orbs to each other, and with the eighth orb, she and her kingdom fade from mortal knowledge.
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The Second Age (Age of Terror)
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4500 Years Ago - Though the Dracoliches are hidden away and imprisoned within their orbs, they are still able to subtly influence the world around them. From their manipulation, new races begin to rise. From the ever changing chaos of flame, humans are sculpted. Flesh and blood, they are prone to quickly burning out, but their lives are marked by the potential to grow and be eternally new. From the great mountains, the Dwarven folk are sculpted. Masters of the earth and all that lies beneath the rocky soil, they are a hardy folk. Inspired by the movements of water, the Praxis rise, their souls singing with the need to spread out, cover all that exists, and gradually shape the lands around them. From the air came two races, the Elves and the Drow. The Elves are the dream of The Maker's breath, whispering through the forests of the world, while the Drow are shaped by the torrent anger and hatred of The One, echoing in the lands of darkness.
4400 Years Ago - The great shaping of races continues, as the mortals quickly grow accustomed to their roles.
4100 Years Ago – The Praxis, explorers at heart, harness the holes between the planes and build a gate system, using the free-flowing magic of the ancient mortal realm that exists between the realms.
3600 Years Ago – A lone human, Mishkal, rises in power using and developing blood-based magics and studying the flow of mana through the world.
3550 Years Ago – Mishkal’s power grows at an alarming rate, and he becomes extremely powerful. He is approached by the Demon Lord Jorgyth and is promised great power if the two merge together. Agreeing, Mishkal’s power grows ten fold as Jorgyth shows Mishkal the powers contained within the Plane of Shadow.
3500 Years Ago - Mishkal manipulates the Praxis gate system, opening a way into the Shadow Realm and the unheard of power shown to him by the demon lord. Jorgyth, now useless to the newly-made demigod, is cast into the Abyss as Mishkal begins to seek access to the other realms, and eventually the Plane of Energy, that he saw as the source of all magic, an untouched plane, still in its raw and chaotic form.
3450 Years Ago - Mishkal storms Mystica, sensing the power of the ancient temple, and begins preparations to forge a permanent gate into the Abyss.
3449 Years Ago - The nations of Seralia band together for mutual protection, forming the Seralian Empire, centering on the city of Plith. The people of Reza do not join this empire, feeling that they are strong enough to hold out against the forces of Mishkal alone.
3446 Years Ago - War wages across the continent, neither side seeming to gain an edge. Mishkal manages to create temporary gates to the Abyss, and with residual control of the demon hordes given to him from his time merged with Jorgyth, he sends them against those who will not serve him. The Lord of Shadows, one of Mishkal's greater servants, infiltrates the caverns below the Wyvern's Keep, amassing a small demonic army there to wait for a signal to attack.
3444 Years Ago – A cruel and evil race known as the Vampires begin to appear, their strength focused in the bustling city of Reza. Their numbers grow as more and more victims fall to their attacks. Reza nearly joins the Seralian Empire before realizing that their new foes only attack while the sun is hidden from skies. Barely able to hold on, they continue to exist apart from the rest of Seralia, which continues to be locked in a terrible stalemate with the creatures of Malice.
3435 Years Ago - Jonas Alcheor speaks of a new land across the ocean, free from the dangers of Mishkal and the vampires who torment Seralia. Gathering many followers, they construct boats and gather supplies, then sail off to the east, across the ocean, bound for their new home. By this time, Reza has fallen on to hard times with their continued struggle against the vampires, who now follow a mighty being known as Scarm. One of the town leaders of Reza makes a deal with the emperor of Plith to serve the empire if the emperor will support his bid for leadership of Reza. The leader takes control of the city of Reza, which was still mostly independent, joins the Empire of Seralia.
3411 Years Ago - Having captured as many foes as possible, a picture of Mishkal's plans and how near to completion they are, it becomes clear that the world may be doomed. Argyle Evenhand leads a great army of magi and clerics in one last, desperate attempt to retake the once holy fortress of Mystica and to bind Mishkal. As they arrive, they find the fortress nearly abandoned, and scrawl the now infamous message found at the entry of Mystica. They charge forward, and while their foes are few, they are quite powerful. Many men die to the hidden traps set within the bowels below the fortress. By the time they reach the third floor of the dungeon, Nythor, a wizard of much repute, leads the dwindling forces of Argyle Evenhand down through the unholy forest, and to the chessboard below that. While no great counterattack has come from Mishkal, Argyle formulates a plan to seal away the many blasphemies Mishkal had brought to Mystica, leaving them with his trusted friend Allaeus, who would go on to later form the Order of Evenhand.
3400 Years Ago - Evenhand's followers carry out the binding of the darkness within Mystica as Argyle and his most loyal companions travel down a ruined, spiraling staircase to confront Mishkal himself. Unbeknownst to Argyle, as the group descended the staircase into Mishkal's sanctum, Nythor’s mind was not able to guard against the honeyed poison of the great warlock's whispers. Upon reaching Mishkal, a great magical battle ensues, and due to Mishkal’s near ascension to god-hood, he was drained of the greater part of his power, allowing Argyle to triumph. Argyle and Nythor, being the last to survive the great battle, cast Mishkal into the Abyss. Before leaving, Nythor succumbed to the warlock’s poisoned whispers and turned on Argyle, leaving him in a state of half-death, never to leave the sanctum. Though Mishkal was lost for now, Nythor would now await the return of his new master, and guard the dungeon against those who would seek to destroy Mishkal forever. Left in a crucified, bloody mess in the heart of Mishkal's lair, Argyle exists in his state of eternal half-death, able to do no more than temporarily open a one-way passage to the Abyss, for those brave enough to confront his foe.
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The Third Age (Age of the Reckoning)
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3450 – 3442 Years Ago – A well known priest, and hero from the wars with Mishkal, rises in renowned with the people of Seralia. This man’s name was Calymbor. He did all that he could to help the people in rebuilding the lives they once knew. He traveled to the city of Reza with hope of ridding the down trodden city with the still thriving Vampire population. In an old leather bound book he read tales of the Seraphs and their powers of light. He sought these beings and traveled for several years. On an island far out to sea, he came to a forest of unnatural power. There he found the Seraphs living in seclusion from the world. Telling them of the evil in Reza, they taught him a way to purify the Vampires, to bring the inner soul of the fallen one out and cast the evil from their bodies.
3440 Years Ago – Returning to Reza, Calymbor attempted this new ritual, succeeding in a new being. The fallen ones were stripped of the evil within them, but still possessed some of their Vampire heritage. Thus the Slayers were made. Devout to the light, they were powerful in the fight against the Vampires that still existed deep under the city. At the same time, the Vampires were getting stronger too as a new leader, Wynn, stepped forth, showing his brethren how to ascend into the shadow as Fiends, becoming beings of a darker and stronger power.
3420 Years Ago – Calymbor was beginning to get old. He continued to lead raids into the caverns below Reza, doing combat with the Vampires, but this time it was different. He stood alone in the cavern, separated from his companions, and his torch grew dim. He heard a faint whisper in the air. It grew stronger as he fumbled through the dark cavern, searching for it. There in a hidden grotto, he came across a most wonderful orb. Its surface gleamed with a radiant light, and filled him with warmth as he took it into his hands. The whispers filled his mind promising him ancient secrets and ancient magics...
3418 – 3410 Years Ago – The whispers continued to echo inside Calymbor’s mind, slowly driving him insane. He learned ancient and very powerful magics from the whispers, extending his own life, but at a terrible price. Though he lived on, his body began to wither and rot. His mind began to twist and he began to listen closer to the whispers, craving the powers they bring him, leading him into an unknown darkness. Seralia, gripped with fear, saw the birth of the first Lich. Feeling that he was not a threat, The Emperor of Plith banished Calymbor, calling to the people of Seralia that his name be forgotten. And so it was, Calymbor was stripped of his name and forgotten, forever to roam the world, nameless.
3400 Years Ago – Fueled by anger and hatred that twisted and poisoned him even more, the nameless Lich vowed revenge on the world he once served, and with the barriers between the realms of the Abyss and the Mortals still weak from the tidings of Mishkal, he sought his plan. He would bring the insanity of the Abyss unto the mortal realm. Using the ancient magics learned through the whispers in his head, he anchored these dark forces to the moon, the everlasting watcher of Sentience, the one thing that would hold the link without unraveling the barriers. It was not long before legends of insanity creeping through the world on nights of the full moon began, catalyzed by this demonic rite.
3399 Years Ago – In doing what he did, he saw one great flaw in his plan. The bound link to the moon could not be controlled so easily. For even his great powers could not harness these forces. Months went by before he came to the realization that a talisman could be used to focus his mana and give him the ability to control the link. In this time of contemplation, the world slowly changed. What peace that had existed fell onto strained times. Insanity seemed to creep into the world whenever the moon was full, but not enough to cause pure, unadulterated aggression. Tendencies toward the savage were amplified, almost to the point of exhibiting some kind of bloodlust. The Lich saw this unintended effect and he surmised what was happening must be tied to the link between realms. Controlling such violent tendencies could have its own uses.
3397 – 3395 Years Ago - With the schematic of a talisman in hand, he traveled to the secret bowels of the Hell Forge. There he forged a necklace of the blackest obsidian and stained with the blood of the demons. A single great demon's eye, still burning with the same intensity as the day it was extracted by force of magic, gleamed from the crook of the necklace. One item still remained to be added, a rare mineral that even those experienced in tracking such substance had trouble finding, red moonstone. As fate would have it, the necromancer found several shards of the crystal, glistening as if coated with blood. Once firmly affixed in the obsidian, within a descending claw, the moonstone shards fused solid into the shape of a sphere. Completed, the nameless Lich labored days on end imbuing his dark powers into this talisman, into which he cast the whispered spells long lost from ancient times, binding this necklace to the moon and with it, the Abyss.
3394 Years Ago - The very ground shifted suddenly once the necromancer wore the talisman, the Amulet of Bloodlust as he soon called it. But he felt incomplete somehow. Something was missing that kept the forces just beyond his reach. He needed a reagent. Since what he was trying to do was obviously above his own limitations, he needed a reagent to catalyze the spell. What presented itself for this had to be more powerful than the moonstone crystals. The Hell Forge gave the final clue, as deep within the bowels of the fiery pits lay the key to the realm of the Abyss. The cosmic forces of the barrier between the realms converged at a nexus point deep in the Hell Forge. The nameless Lich found the nexus, but was nearly baffled by another problem, until he threw a shard of black moonstone into the center of the nexus. A sudden jolt struck him, not from the nexus, but from the necklace he wore. But the jolt was only momentary, lasting until the shard reemerged from the nexus, raising a clatter as it fell to the rocky floor of the Hell Forge cavern. The nameless Lich picked up the shard, holding it at a distance as he inspected it. The moonstone crystal appeared transmuted, almost as if it were not even moonstone anymore. Fractures riddled the interior, looking all the more like a cage, for deep within the fragment, a faint light emanated. The nameless Lich held the crystal aloft, and he understood. He held in his grasp, a way to bring down the barrier. The Lich departed the Hell Forge, returning to his tower of solitude.
3393 Years Ago - Atop his tower under the light of the full moon, the nameless one summoned a storm... a great storm, one the world had never seen before. The discoloration of the sky cast an eerie hue across the land, tinted deeply violet. Lifting the fractured crystal before his chest, mere inches from the amulet, the Lich unleashed the trapped forces, aiming them through the red moonstone, through the demonic eye, through the blood stained obsidian, and toward the full moon... Immediately, the moon darkened to a deep crimson, appearing altogether like blood had covered it, filling the violet hued night with a blood red overtone. The storm began to mutate, churning in on itself, billowing out demonic thunderheads as a foul wind howled across the landscape, carrying with it the ominous dangers of the Abyss. Insanity radiated from the storm accompanied by chaos and bloodlust, flooding the land with a dense mist that obscured everything it touched. From atop his tower, the nameless Lich witnessed the world unfolding into a fury of pure savagery. In his delight, he made no attempt to hide what he had done and that he was the cause of it. However, this delight proved short lived when he tried to remove the amulet. To his horror, the necklace refused to budge, holding steadfast to his chest and around his neck, like a collar. Little did he realize though, the amulet was the one thing that kept the insanity from infecting him.
3392 Years Ago - Unbeknownst to the nameless one, a few pious clerics of extraordinary caliber managed to stay off the onset of insanity long enough to unite their powers, calling upon Eden to aide in their time of need. Answering their prayers, the benevolent powers bestowed upon them Sanctuary, sanctifying their temple with an aura of tranquility and serenity which could repel the overwhelming madness. Now free, the clerics summoned forth their prayers of wisdom and healing in an effort to spread beyond their temple. What they managed was an intense sanctuary that dispelled the infective madness. Many who stumbled upon the temple in their throws of bloodlust found their heads clearing and their minds settling. They looked upon the clerics as their saviors, radiating for all their piety. Despite having formed a haven of safety from this cataclysm, the clerics knew not how to combat what could only be a global pandemic, nor did they know the source. It was not until an old mage of venerable repute found his way to the temple did they finally have an answer.
The old wizard held his hand aloft, pointing a finger at the moon whose blood red aura shone demonically across the sky, penetrating the dense cloud bank churning chaotically. He revealed that a dark force had invaded the moon, bringing with it all the terror of the Abyss. The wizard feared that barrier between the realms may have waned, allowing a flow of the Abyss to seep out. Then suddenly, the earth trembled slightly. The light of the moon no longer seemed to be as dark as it was. In fact, it grew steadily paler as the moon waned from its fullness into a gibbous. Having lost its critical strength, the bound forces held by the moon faded rapidly, quelling the insanity that had once raged forth. Suddenly, the churning clouds and dense fog receded into every orifice, crack and void, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. The streets before the temple were littered with bodies of the slain, and the crouched stoops of shivering people whose sanity began to reemerge. Some, however, seemed permanently lost to the madness, seeing what they had done.
3392 – 3390 Years Ago – A council of the highest mages and clerics, both pious and malice, was called by the old wizard. This meeting went on for hours while mage and cleric alike threw out their hypotheses and theories, trying to nail down a reason for this cataclysmic event. Deep in their discussions, none noticed a lanky young mage enter the chamber, standing by the doorway. The old wizard's gaze lifted and saw the figure waiting patiently to be noticed. He called the young mage forth, to speak with whatever news he may have. This mage told of how he witnessed a man, a man with decaying flesh, atop a tower just prior to cataclysm. He invoked what appeared to be a talisman of sorts, one the mage had never seen the likes of before. After witnessing the events that transpired immediately following the invocation, the young mage fled for his life, fearful of what would happen to him. Cowardly nestled in a hiding place, he felt the ravages of the insanity filling his mind, yet he was too afraid to move, he hid away amidst the dense fog, hoping no one would find him. When the fog and terror fled, he found he was alive and still whole, although severely ragged by the lingering affects of his lost sanity. Standing up, he knew he had to seek out any mage that would listen. Eventually hearing about the council meeting, he came here. Forged by the strife and chaos that had so nearly destroyed their lives, the mighty band of mages and clerics marched through the wilderness, armed with power of both arcane and spiritual origins. Guided by the lanky young mage, the great formation was led to the tower. The nameless one had already fled the tower, hearing the whispers within his head warning him. They gave chase for nearly two years before they cornered the nameless Lich atop a large mountain in the southeast of the Athemia continent. A large battle ensued ultimately ending in the death of the nameless one. The group surrounded the powerful talisman and shattered it. Each member took a piece of the shattered talisman in safe keeping, so that it may never be rebuilt. The old wizard gave the final piece of red moonstone crystal to the young lanky mage, and proclaimed from that day forth he shall be, Linus Acrylin, named an archmage. The body of nameless Lich was taken deep underground beneath the mountain and put in a small chamber. The clerics use their divine magics to ward the chamber and the mages sealed it off from the world powerful spells. The group never spoke of the Lich again. Little did any realize the damage done to the moon and Sentience was permanent, for the link to the Abyss remained unbroken, only weakened severely. Whenever the moon would be at its fullest, power would surge forth, covering the moon in a plague of blood. However, the forces bound to the moon suffered a great loss when the amulet was shattered and divided between the members of the council that day. So, every blood moon seen from hence forth is a potent reminder to the catastrophe that befell the world. But, every so often, the powers of the moon surge through, bringing forth a new Reckoning, but only an echo of the first Reckoning.
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The Fourth Age (Age of Silver)
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3385 – 3370 Years Ago – Linus Acrylin, the newly named archmage roams the world in search of knowledge and understanding as well as mentoring mages in need of guidance. In the city of Olaria, Linus comes across a young orphan whom he adopts and later makes his apprentice. The young boy, Rhazlok, followed in Linus’ footsteps and soon became an adept mage. Meanwhile, turbulent forces shook the Abyss as Mishkal saw his opportunity to return to the Mortal realm. The havoc caused by the nameless one’s invoking of the Reckoning had left the barriers between realms weakened. Using his knowledge of the Praxis gate system, he constructs the Pyramid of the Abyss in an attempt to channel his energy into overpowering the Praxis gates and return to the Mortal realm. The Praxis foreseeing this event, closed the gates, sealing them forever, thus imprisoning Mishkal within his own Pyramid. With the gates sealed, the Praxis disappeared from the world, never seen again. Few Praxis remain, only the fallen ones that reside in the Abyss, drawn to Mishkal’s power.
3368 – 3352 Years Ago – The demon lord, Jorgyth, never forgetting how he was once betrayed by a mortal, sends his greatest minion into the Mortal realm. Kraksys, the king of the red dragons, was born from the fires of the Abyss, and bathed within the River of Blood. He was massive and terrible beast that lead an army of red dragons unto the world, laying siege to all, and bring death wherever he flew. The armies of men were cut down by the hundreds, their flesh incinerated by Kraksys’ flames. In the end, four heroes rose to stand against this terrible evil. Kraksys found this amusing, and challenged them to a fight, calling his armies back. The four heroes consisted of the archmage Linus Acrylin, his apprentice Rhazlok, Baeldur, chieftain of the Ashkyron barbarians, and Tasus Goldhammer, the titan paladin of Achaeus. The battle raged for several years, spanning across the world.
3351 Years Ago – The battle between Kraksys and the four heroes finally came to an end atop the snowy peaks of the Lestat Mountains where the heroes struck the final blow, killing the large dragon. The four men journeyed to the city of Plith and were celebrated and rejoiced in every town on the way. The kings of the world gathered together in Plith to welcome the heroes. The created the Silver Order, an order of warriors tasked with the guardianship of the world for evil. They named Linus and Rhazlok as High Archmages of the order, and named Baeldur and Tasus as Master’s of the order. Under the protection of the Silver Order, the world surely again be in peace.
3347 – 3344 Years Ago – Over the years, many warriors joined the ranks of the Silver Order, and their numbers swelled. As High Archmages, Linus and Rhazlok were each granted a tower which they could build anywhere they wanted. Linus chose to have his tower near Plith and Olaria while Rhazlok decided to have his on Athemia in the mountains to the southeast, near a small village named Khatovar. The towers were built and the High Archmages watched the over world. Peace was bountiful, and the world rebuilt itself.
3344 Years Ago – Linus Acrylin felt unsettled as a messenger arrived bearing news of disappearances within the village of Khatovar. This unsettling feeling grew as his every attempt to contact Rhazlok failed. The villagers of Khatovar began to grow worried as Rhazlok himself had not been seen either. The Silver Order is dispatched to investigate. Rhazlok is discovered to be at the source. Rhazlok had become increasingly obsessed over his own impending death that he began to experiment in the blood-magics of necromancy, searching for a way to cheat death. He was abducting random villagers and taking them to his tower to be experimented on. As all his attempts failed, he began to grow desperate. It was then that Linus came to visit his old apprentice. In a wave of shock and fear, Rhazlok lashed out, casting a dark spell at Linus, to which he quickly countered. A short battle of magic erupted, consisting mainly of Rhazlok casting attack spells and Linus countering. In the end, Linus banished Rhazlok, to be locked in his tower, and never leave. A posting of the Silver Order was placed in the village of Khatovar to ensure Rhazlok’s imprisonment.
3344 – 3341 Years Ago – As Rhazlok grew more and more obsessed with cheating death, he began to search for ways out of his tower. Animating a troupe of corpses, he began to tunnel through the rock of the mountain below his tower. His undead minions worked tirelessly through the day and through the night. Tunneling deep into the bowels of the mountain, they came across a void in the rock, a small chamber containing an unmarked tomb. As Rhazlok joined his minions in the chamber, he felt the presence of magics sealing the chamber. Muttering a few arcane words, he tore the magical barriers down with his dark magic and entered the tomb. Ordering his subservient undead to open the sarcophagus he found the bones of a nameless priest, and a glowing orb. All too soon, the whispers begin within Rhazlok’s mind, promises of ancient magics and ancient power.
3340 – 3332 Years Ago -
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