An age rolls by, the world untouched by divine hand.
The dark dwarves make their journey, though losing two of their numbers to the gargantuan maws of whales. The remaining four reached the coast of the Continent of Despair. The next bit of forest is easy in comparison, as no plant or animal is of a size to threaten a dwarf dressed in divine plate. They reach the mountains and dig down.
The orcs, recently thrust into the world with neither gear nor knowledge, live in the same mountains, surviving through sheer brute strength and tenacity. Fighting grizzly bears, great pines and lamas with your bare hands make for rapid survival of the fittest, and soon only the strongest, toughest, wiliest orcs survive. And though the mortality rate is still high, these orcs come to thrive.
In the wilderness, the elves slowly evolve to depend on their newfound powers, growing plants into dwellings and equipment. Clumps of hollow oak trees provide them homes, not only providing passive protection in the form of wood and bark, but also quite willing to eat any non-elf that strays close to their branches. Their new bows are stronger and more precise, and elephants soon find themselves in danger when straying close to an elven retreat. Still, an elephant herd is not easily taken on, and when dealing with more than one individual, the elves usually settle for luring the dim and aggressive creatures away from their homes, through the use of quick-legged elven bait. This in time develops into a rite of adulthood. A group of adolescent elves are handed bows, and sent out to lure the herd away. Those that survive are treated to a long celebration of singing, dancing, and eating fermented fruit (which in time leads to the discovery of elven wine).
The dragons are another matter. Marginally smarter than elephants, flying and firebreathing, they are not quite so easily handled. The lands around the redwood forest becomes known as the Plains of Ash by the elves, and continues to spread until a fourth of the land of the Continent of Despair lies barren.
The Naga take a time to realize that the dwarves are gone. Then a bit more time to ensure that the dwarves are really gone. And then they begin exploring. Taking the tunnel to the surface, they are immediately assaulted by hostile waterlife, but as long as the kelp beer holds out, they are suitably tipsy to work defensive water magic. They remember distant edicts of their god, and explore the ocean, looking for partners to trade with. Every now and again an exploration team gets a bit too tipsy, and doesn't realise that they are running out of kelp beer before it is too late. They don't return. However, then one day, a team runs into a mysterious crystal spire rising from the ocean floor.
Saying that the cats have been busy, would be a lie. Having found a safe haven they settle down, luxuriating in the attention lavished upon them, now that none of the dwarves can find satisfaction in work. What with the lack of trees or plants on the crystal spire. The cats are quite surprised when the naga pop out of the water, until it becomes obvious that the naga are intelligent and nonaggressive. Then they become annoyed with how their mind control doesn't work. However, the naga sticks around, and in time a pidgin is established between the dwarves and naga. Unfortunately the surface dwarves doesn't have anything to trade with the naga. Still, the two people remain on a friendly footing, and the naga visit often.
Inland, the dark dwarves are slowly rebuilding to former glories. Stills have been set up, copied from the Naga, and utilizing fruits and seeds of the forest. Edzul has become the dwarven patriarch, a title that he has taken, though not all dark dwarves are actually his children, some being sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews. Then as time rolls by grand-nieces and grand-nephews and grand-grand-nieces and grand-grand-nephews. The underground complex is sprawling, and there has even been talk about striking out to new places. That is when a group of orcs find a curious opening in the mountainside.
The following battle is terrible, killing dozens. The orc advance is only halted when three wrestlers and a legendary miner, all clad in divine plate, dive into the fray. Even Edzul, as one of the wrestlers, suffers, as he loses one eye to an orcish thumb. In the aftermath, the dead are placed in stone alcoves, and prayers said to Beanchubbs to let them rise again when they are called to battle again. Also the dwarves begin to delve into the art of trap making and defenses, their first effort being a retractable bridge over a deep pit.
Near the other end of the continent, the tribe of the Red Maw finds the dragons expanding the Plains of Ash into their domain. They see this as a sign. More fervent than any other elven tribe, the elves of the Red Maw tribe has combated the elephants, seeking the doctrine of natural balance as espoused by Greenleaf. They do not merely lure away the elephant herds. They lure them into a narrow ravine, where they are peppered with arrows and showered with rocks and boulders, until all are dead. And then the elves feast.
The dragons will not be as easy, however. More elves will be needed. And so the Red Maw embarks on a crusade, approaching other tribes to get them to join their own. Some tribes agree outright, impressed by the reputation of the Red Maws. Some tribes refuse, and come to fill the Red Maws stomachs, the survivors taken as slaves. The Red Maw tribe continuously grows, and soon the main village are receiving tribute from far and near, new dwellings springing up all the time to house slaves and warriors of other tribes eager to become full Red Maws. From the tribe of the Furious Mountain, they receive clubs and axes made from obsidian, with which they arm their finest warriors. Five time the Red Maws kill a dragon that strays too close to the village, the final slain by a bolt from an ballista grown by a bright young prodigy. And then the Red Maws are ready.
A thousand elven warriors stride out of the forest, onto the ash-covered, barren plain. Most are clad in little but loin cloth, and wield only bows, but two hundred are clad in armor of bark and leather, carrying obsidian weaponry, their faces painted in the red paint of the Red Maws. Behind them are carried forty ballistas on the shoulders of war slaves, attended by a further hundred warriors skilled in their use. Behind them stretch a sea of slaves and civilians, carrying the food and supplies needed for the trek across the Plains of Ash.
For two days they travel, before meeting their first dragon, and slaying it without casualties. The next day comes another. The next day comes two. And the fifth day five dragons dive together out of the sky, killing a hundred warriors and many more carriers, before they are finally shot from the sky. One survives the fall from the sky, and is slain with clubs and axes, its head chopped off and carried at the front of the army by five strong warriors.
On the sixth day, the redwood forest appears on the horizon. And the sky in that direction darkens as dozens of dozens of dragons take to their wings. The resulting battle is fierce. Liutha, chieftain of the Red Maw tribe is said to have struck down three dragons with his bow, before he himself was killed. Tales around the campfires tell of Hrakku, the strongest elf to have ever lived, standing atop a mound of elf and dragon corpses, still fighting as the last survivors fled. Former slaves tell how they took up arms to defend the retreating baggage train, thus earning their freedom. No warrior survived. They all fought to the last, and the Plains of Ash flowed with dragon and elven blood.
Not all the dragons were killed, but the advance of the Plains of Ash was stopped. It is said, that so many died, that the dragons find no need to leave their forest, instead feasting on the carcasses outside their door. It has been fifty years since the great march, and still no dragons are seen outside the Plains of Ash.
STATE OF THE WORLDThe dark dwarves: Two new holds have been established beyond the original one, from which Edzul still rules. Primitive defenses and traps litter the entrances to the holds, to keep out the orcs, but the dwarves are still restricted to wooden and stone clubs and axes. The four suits of armor as well as the pick is at the newest hold.
The orcs: Still primitive, still mostly relegated to the mountains. A few groups has moved into the forests, but the new environment, and elven arrows has kept them contained.
The elves: Though most elves still live in separate tribes, the religion and doctrine of Greenleaf has spread, and elephants are having a hard time indeed. The clan of Red Maw is still the center of a small federation of tribes, but the loss of all their warriors meant losing teachers for a new generation of warriors, and the federation is vulnerable to attack from the outside.
The dragons: Three remain, though they have grown bigger and nastier on all the carcasses outside their forest. And their meat supply is running low...
The surface dwarves and cats: Still hasn't considered the possibility of fishing.
The naga: Has found the two continents, but stick to the water where they can use their magic. More potent kelp brews has been made, which allow them to stay buzzed longer on a smaller supply. Still hasn't figured out what the spire, dwarves, and cats are all about, though there are naga fluent in dwarven now.
ACTs100killer9: 1 ACTs
Beanchubbs: 1 ACT
Hillburra: 1 ACT
Geb: 1 ACTs
Greenleaf: 1 ACT
A new Aeon doesn't let the waiting list rotate in, right?
Sorry, but no.