“Warriors of Thalos, this is your hour of destiny. The continent is in chaos. We will march back to the lands of our ancestors and make right an ancient wrong. By the blood of Almira, I will make it so!”

-Queen Almira XXI of THALOS

The Empire of Ravilla

Before the Demon War, the elves were split into two main groups. The wood elves, as their name suggests, lived in the primeval forests of the interior, while the gray elves lived in remote mountain cities. There was little commu­nication between these branches of the elven race, but the Demon War changed everything.

Without warning, enormous portals opened up in the depths of the forest. Armies of demons direct from the Abyss poured into Western Oerik. The wood elves were caught by surprise, and thousands died. Wildfires raged out of control, destroying the heart of the forest and the wood elf homesteads with it. Aid was slow in coming, and the wood elves were on the brink of annihilation.

At this hour, the wood elf hero Peramil mounted his giant eagle and flew through the blackened sky to reach the mountain homes of the gray elves. He fought off winged demons and vicious harpies along the way, but no evil could slow him. Peramil reached the gray elf city of Ventia and told his kin of the holocaust consuming the wood elf homeland.

The gray elves acted quickly. Within the hour, powerful wizards were flying above the battlefields, reconnoitering the enemy positions. Elite strike teams were dispatched to distract the demons while the gray elves mustered their army for war. Soon a hundred thousand elves were marching from the mountains to engage the demonic armies. Bahamut the platinum dragon led his metallic dragons into the fray, and together the allies saved the wood elves from destruction. To show their gratitude, the wood elves swore a great oath, binding them to their kin for the duration of the conflict.

Throughout the long war that fol­lowed, wood elf units served with the gray elf army. They became known as Oathbands, and the demons learned to fear their guerrilla tactics and deadly accuracy with the long bow.

After the Demon War, Corellon Larethian tasked the gray elves with guarding the Abyssal Gateways. The elves sealed up their mountain cities and hid them from the world with magic spells and wards. They built new cities around the portals. Should they ever prove lax in their duties, the gray elves will pay a heavy price.

What was left of the wood elves returned to their forest homes after the war. Due to the destructiveness of the conflict, only a small part of the forest remained. They made a formal agreement with the gray elves to ensure their own protection. The wood elf lands would become part of the new elven nation, but gray elf con­trol would end at the borders of the forest. The wood elves also agreed to provide Oathbands for service with the gray elf army in times of war.

At first the gray elf cities were fairly autonomous. The city-states that emerged had many forms of govern­ment, with a Grand Council that addressed issues of import to all the elven lands. This state of affairs lasted for nearly five hundred years, during which time human tribes and dwarven clans spread into Western Oerik. In the year 499^, the Abyssal Gateway in the city of Xanos opened, and demons flooded out once again. The attack was contained quickly and bloodily, but the complacency of the previous centuries had been shat­tered. Everyone wanted answers and the Grand Council had none to give. To address the concerns of the com­mon citizen, the Grand Council tasked a small group of wizards with the investigation of the Xanos Incident.

In 505 the wizards reported their findings. It was their opinion that the gate’s activation was due to the abnormally large number of sorcerers in Xanos. In a stunning declaration, the wizards claimed that the secret and previously unknown root of sorcerous power was the Abyss. The scientific method of wizardry was thus the only safe way to practice arcane magic.

Sorcerers across the city-states protested vehe­mently. They argued that it was the blood of dragons that gave them their power, not the influence of demons. The Grand Council was looking for a scape­goat, however, and the wizards had given them one. To protect the elven people, the Grand Council turned from an advisory body to a ruling one. The city-states were now to become parts of a greater whole. The gray elf citizens, frightened by the taste of war they had received, wholeheartedly approved of the Grand Council’s action.

The Grand Council’s next move was to enact an official ban on sorcery. Its practice was specifically linked to demonology and its practitioners were declared a dan­ger to elven security. Over the ensuing five years, sorcerers in the city-states were hunted by specialized teams of mage hunters. They were forced to renounce their sorcerous ways or go into exile. Many left and never returned.

The most successful mage hunter was an elf named Trigorian. He unearthed a cabal of sorcerous cultists, and their public trial made Trigorian a hero. When the sorcer­ers of Ravilla had been dealt with, the ambitious Trigorian turned to politics, and in 513 he was elected to the Grand Council. He immedi­ately agitated for a wider effort against sorcery. He argued persua­sively that city-states could not be kept safe if sorcerers were allowed to run wild beyond their borders. The council tripled the size of the army, while Trigorian urged the citizens to war. Hostilities com­menced in 515.

Gray elf armies swept south and east for the next twenty years, aided by Oathbands of their wood elf kin. They overran a myriad of petty kingdoms and drove humans and dwarves before them. By the time the campaign had run its course, the elves controlled all of Western Oerik north of the Blasted Desert with two exceptions: the dwarven kingdom and the new human nation of Thalos. The dwarves were not a sorcerous people, so costly assaults on their mountain strongholds were consid­ered unnecessary. The island nation of Thalos was assaulted in 550, but the inspirational leader­ship of their Queen Almira helped the humans defeat the veteran elven legions. Although Trigorian agitated for a renewed attack, none would back him. The elven people were tired of war.

Thus the elven city-states became an empire. The official year of this event is 525, when the city-states unified permanently as the Empire of Ravilla. The members of the Grand Council became known as the Oligarchs and their power was vast. They presided over the zenith of Ravillan achieve­ment, the Elven Peace of 552-698.

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Ahmut’s Legion

The Empire of Ravilla dominated Western Oerik for some two hundred years. The Elven Peace of 552-698 was a golden age for Ravilla. Elven learning and arts flourished, and the army did little more than police the border and fend off the occasional savage humanoid raid. In their strength, the elves became complacent. They were the masters of Western Oerik and none could challenge them ... or so they thought.

In 699, Ravilla was shocked to its core. A horde of horsemen appeared on its southeast border, and Stratis, the God of War, was spied among their ranks. As columns of horsemen poured into Ravilla, the elves first heard a name they would learn to fear: Ahmut. He was the undisputed leader of the invaders, a group of human tribes known as the Baklien.

The elven army was at first uncon­cerned. They had, after all, never been defeated in their home territory. When the two armies clashed for the first time, the elven commanders watched smugly as the Baklien broke and ran. Gray elf cavalry pursued to finish the job and quickly left the infantry behind. With astounding discipline, the Baklien reformed and surrounded the isolated elven horse­men. Ahmut then led his heaviest troops forward in a devastating charge. The elven infantry could only watch as their brethren were annihilated.

For the next three years, Ahmut and the Baklien rampaged across Ravilla.

They defeated several elven armies and rebuffed all attempts at a negotiated peace. Where armies had failed, however, one woman succeeded. Prisca, the most skilled assassin in the Oligarch’s service, penetrated Ahmut’s camp and slit the warlord’s throat as he slept. When Ahmut’s death was dis­covered, his lieutenants scrambled for power. In the ensuing chaos, the armies of Ravilla rallied and drove the Baklien out of the empire. They disappeared to the south and never returned.

Ahmut’s body rotted in an unmarked grave for centuries. His name lived on, as he gradually became a bogeyman used to frighten elven children. When rain pounded on the rooftops, it was said to be the sound of Ahmut on his ghostly steed. Everyone understood that Ahmut would take vengeance on the elven people if given the chance.

As he died with an elven blade in his heart, Stratis gave Ahmut that chance. The god’s spear fell straight and true, piercing the aged skeleton of the Baklien warlord. Ahmut, fire in his eyes anew, tore himself free from the grave. The godly artifact had brought him back as a lord of undeath, and he would have his vengeance.

The power of Stratis’s spear allowed Ahmut to raise undead skeletons quickly from old battlefields. As he began his war against life, Ahmut was able to add zombies to his ranks as well. Soon the countryside was abuzz with rumors of Ahmut’s return. The elven Oligarchs dismissed the talk as purest fancy, but theirs were not the only ears listening.

Nerull the Reaper, the God of Death, is not without his followers in the Sundered Empire. The Red Scythe is a cult that dates back several centuries. It began in the outlying provinces of Ravilla, far from centers of elven power. Although quickly proscribed by the authorities, the cult grew. To humans, halflings, and gnomes living under elven rule, the Red Scythe offered not just power, but the power of life and death.

When word of Ahmut’s return reached them, the leaders of the Red Scythe knew their hour had come at last. Here was a champion of death, ready to do Nerull’s will on Oerth. All that remained was to contact Ahmut and put him under the cult’s command. The Red Scythe leaders were in for a surprise. They found that Ahmut retained all of his cunning and force of will. One touch from the lord of undeath slew the most powerful priest of Nerull, and the rest of the Red Scythe quickly fell into line. The cult would now serve Ahmut, not command him.

With the Red Scythe under his thrall, Ahmut was able to build a true legion of undead. Red Scythe necromancers from all over the Sundered Empire poured into his camp, ready to animate the dead for their new master. Ahmut led his legion into the mountains first, to establish a base of operations. There his forces slew several thousand troglodytes in fierce underground bat­tles, taking the warrens for themselves. The troglodytes returned to life in a matter of hours, as zombies in Ahmut’s service. This set a pattern for Ahmut’s further conquests. Each enemy slain was not only a blow to the opposing army, but a fresh recruit for the forces of undeath.

Ahmut’s Legion has continued to grow, from day to day and battle to battle. The Baklien warlord now controls a swath of territory southeast of the elven city-states. Advance parties have clashed in the mountains with the gnolls of Naresh, and more serious battles have occurred with Drazen’s Horde to the west. While Ahmut craves vengeance against the elves, he hates all life and fights any mortal army he can strike at. The forces of undeath are on the march, and Nerull smiles upon them. Who can stop the Reaper of Life?          

Cultist of the Red Scythe

Until Ahmut arrived and conquered enough territory to give them a base of operations, the Cult of the Red Scythe was forced to operate in the shadows. In Ravilla and Thalos, those cultists caught were executed out of hand. The Red Scythe thus discouraged its members from carrying scythes as weapons or tattooing the cult emblem on their persons: The risk of detection was simply too great. Instead, the cult encouraged the use of a dagger, a weapon so common that even peasants often carried it. Daggers aroused no suspicion and were perfect for the business of murder.

The Red Scythe is home to clerics of Nerull, necromancers, assassins, and rogues of ill repute. The dagger is the favored weapon of all, and many clerics and wizards will take a level of rogue to pick up the sneak attack ability and learn the art of stealth.

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Thalos

Before the Empire of Ravilla, humans lived in scattered tribes across Western Oerik. When elves began their con­quest, they pushed the tribes before them. Each time the tribes resettled, the elven boot kicked them still farther from their homeland. With their num­bers dwindling every year due to hardship, disease, and war, the tribes faced extinction.

The leader of the Strongbow tribe was a warrior named Almira. She argued that the tribes must travel far beyond the elven reach to establish a new home. All but three of the tribes followed Almira on a grueling march. In 531 they reached the coast, off which scouts had spied a massive island. This island had ample resources, natural defenses, and a remote location. There was only one snag: It was overrun with kobolds.

While other tribal leaders despaired, Almira was pleased. Her people had been running for years, but now they would enter their homeland not as refugees, but as conquerors. Almira dubbed the island Thalos, the ancient word for “fortress,” and rallied her people for one last push. Under her leadership, the tribes spent six months resting, training, and building a fleet of barges to carry them to the island.

The kobolds were not expecting an attack, and they fled from the invading humans. The disorganized kobolds fell by the thousands, and within four years, the island was under human control. By 541 the war was over. The surviving kobolds fled under­ground, escaping the humans through inaccessible tunnels. With the kobolds defeated and contained, Almira claimed victory. The Scouring of Thalos had the effect she had desired, and her people were now confident and unified.

Crowning Almira was only a formality, for no one dared to stand against the savior of humanity. By this time there were only ten tribes left, and Almira divided the land equally among them. She also established the regents, an advisory body with two representatives per tribe. They were responsible for enacting the Queen’s orders, the most important of which was establishing an army and navy. Despite their victories, Almira knew it was only a matter of time before the elven legions arrived.

Battle began in 550, when hundreds of elven ships met the small human navy, which was led by the aasimar Furiel. The humans knew they stood no chance against the navy of Ravilla, but they also knew that every ship sunk increased the chances of a land victory. As they sailed to their deaths, the marines shouted out a war cry that has since rung out on a thousand battlefields: “For Almira and the Shield Mother!”

Magic blew ships apart, clouds of arrows filled the air, and boarding parties made decks run red with blood. Furiel, in her wrath, called down pillars of fire until a hail of elven arrows nailed her to the mast. After three hours of fighting, the forces of Ravilla were ready to land on Thalos, where Almira awaited with a mighty host.

The ensuing battle lasted for three days. Wave after wave of elven ships disgorged thousands of veteran sol­diers. Ravilla’s armies, however, had grown used to walking over their opposition, and they were not ready for such determined resistance. Human soldiers matched the elves, arrow for arrow and blade for blade. Each time the elves established a beachhead, the humans hurled them back into the sea. Almira led her troops personally, and the Battle of the Bloody Tide was her finest hour. The human losses were grievous, but the elves never again attempted an invasion of Thalos.

Fifty years of peace followed, and Thalos thrived. Cities grew, trade flour­ished, and the population boomed. When Queen Almira died peacefully in 575, her eldest daughter succeeded her, establishing a dynasty that has continued to the present day.

The Thalish were not the only ones growing in numbers, however. In 602, tens of thousands of kobolds boiled up from the underground to take vengeance. The surprised human army was initially slow to react. Farms were burned, towns were razed, and stores were destroyed by the rampaging kobolds. It was the church of the Shield Mother that reacted first. Its clerics organized local militias to fight back, buying the army time. Once the military was organized, the kobolds could do little to save themselves. Again they were hounded back to their warrens with great slaughter.

Queen Almira II was not satisfied with her victory. She knew that the kobolds would return again and again unless their warrens were rooted out. She offered the gnomes of the continent gold and any underground areas they conquered in her name in return for their aid. A whole human generation passed, only vaguely aware that a war raged beneath their feet. By the time Queen Almira III was crowned, the gnomes had won the war. The kobolds would never bother the humans again, and Thalos had found strong allies.

Four hundred years later, Thalos has become a mighty nation. h controls the seas, its gnome population safeguards an impregnable under­ground armory, and its paladins lead a mighty army. Almira XXI is an inspirational leader like her ancestor. In the wake of the death of Stratis, Almira declared a great crusade. She has inspired her people with visions of conquering their ancient home­lands, and her armies now march on the continent they once fled.

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Mordengard

Dwarves didn’t arrive in Western Oerik in significant numbers until 50 years after the Demon War. Then, clans of dwarves came from the south, traveling up the coastline on war barges. Four waves of warriors and settlers made their way into the Sundered Empire region over the course of a hundred years, looking for a new land to call home. Unlike the human tribes, who were forced west by hostile elven armies, the only thing the dwarven clans were escaping was overpopulation.

The dwarves settled in a range of mountains west of the elven city-states, and in 196, the clans decided to join together to create a true nation. The clan leaders wanted to set up a tradi­tional dwarven kingdom, but there was no royal family. To solve this dilemma, a council of important military, clerical, and social leaders was created, and it spent ten years deliberating. Finally, the council decided that it would elect a king from among the clan leaders, with the losing clan leaders being allowed to found noble houses, so that a proper dwarven kingdom could be established.

In 206, the Blessed Kingdom of Mordengard was born, under the lead­ership of King Smoni. The first king proved a popular ruler. He sponsored a program of building and expansion that linked the many dwarven holds together and created a central metropolis. By the time King Smoni passed on, Mordengard was stable and prosperous. Power then passed to Smoni’s son, and the noble houses supported the kingship. The dwarves, it seemed, had created exactly the nation they'd wanted.

Mordengard stayed on the sidelines during the establishment of Ravilla. The elven commanders were happy to leave the dwarves alone, since they didn’t practice sorcery and didn’t oppose elven expansion. The dwarves were happy to profit from Ravilla, selling weapons and armor to the ever-expanding elven legions. The money was so good that Mordengard closed its borders to refugees so it would not anger the Oligarchs, a slight still remembered in Thalos to this day.

It wasn’t until 759 that the dwarves got a taste of elven steel. In that year, a dwarf expedition was exploring the mountains east of Ravilla. They encoun­tered a mighty warrior, later identified as the god Stratis, who promised them untold fame if they would follow him. Stratis led them toward one of the ancient gray elf cities, hidden since the Demon War and protected as a final refuge for the elven people. Gray elf guards, alarmed by the dwarves’ pres­ence, attacked the expedition and killed all but one of its members.

When the surviving dwarf returned to Mordengard, war was all but assured. The elves couldn’t explain that they were protecting secret cities, and the dwarves couldn’t allow the insult to go unpunished. Thus began the War of Spite, a vicious and ulti­mately pointless conflict that lasted twenty-one years. The war finally ended in a draw, with the armies bat­tering each other into exhaustion.

After the War of Spite, the king con­centrated on rebuilding Mordengard. He didn’t realize that the greatest threat to Mordengard would come from within his very household. Hakon, the king’s third son, had realized that it was unlikely he would ever become king. This did not please him, so he arranged the murders of his two older brothers and then sped along the death of his father with a debilitating poison. By the time his father passed on, Hakon had the reigns of power firmly in hand. He was crowned king and began a long reign of abuse and exploitation.

Hakon viewed dwarven workers as his property, and he drove them ruth­lessly. He ordered gigantic construction projects, culminating with the King’s Spire, a monstrous tower that jutted out of the mountainside. Known as the Tyrant’s Peak to the workers, this became Hakon’s center of power and was guarded by his most loyal troops.

Hakon ruled for exactly one-hun­dred years. As the rights of the work­ers and then the soldiers faded away, it became clear that all the dwarves of Mordengard were nothing but slaves to Hakon. Finally, the people rose up in rebellion. The workers picked up their hammers and defied the Tyrant King. Most of the army, long under­paid and abusively disciplined, joined them. Only the tyrant’s personal guard remained loyal, and they defended the King’s Spire fanatically. After a num­ber of costly assaults, the rebels retreated. Hakon rejoiced, sure he had crushed their spirit. Unknown to him, however, engineers were hard at work underneath the Spire. The next morning Hakon woke up to the sound of explosions. Tyrant’s Peak was rocked at its very foundations and came crashing down, killing Hakon and every one of his loyalists.

The triumphant rebels set about rebuilding their shattered land. With the King, all his relatives, and most of the nobility dead, it was decided that the very idea of kingship should remain entombed under the ruins of the Tyrant's Peak. The rebels decided to organize a new government that would recognize the real corner­stone of the nation: the workers. The workers and soldiers organ­ized themselves into guilds and elected a Workers’ Council to run the government. As precedent, they pointed back to the original council that had elected the first king. It was time, they decided, for the dwarven people to control their own fate. Thus was born the People’s State of Mordengard.

To safeguard their revolution, the dwarves established the People’s Legion, a standing army of rigid professionalism. Most citi­zens serve in the People’s Legion at some point in their lives, so Mordengard has a deep reserve of trained warriors. Since the start of the Godwar, the ranks of the People’s Legion have grown greatly. They are ready to give their lives so that Mordengard can remain free.        

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Naresh

Naresh is a dagger pointed at the heart of Ravilla. Although gnoll tribes overran the area several hundred years ago, Naresh is reckoned a new threat by the Oligarchs of Ravilla. In fact, the driving force of the gnoll armies is an ancient foe of elvenkind, Yeenoghu, a demon prince of the Abyss.

The defining event of Western Oerik was a conflict known as the Demon War. The archi­tects of this invasion were the afore­mentioned Yeenoghu and his then ally, Baphomet, demon lord of minotaurs. Their armies were comprised of demons, gnolls, and minotaurs-all straight from the Abyss.

When the abyssal armies were finally defeated, surviving demons fled back through the portals, which were sealed behind them. The smashed remnants of the gnoll forces fled across the moun­tains and disappeared. The gray elves, soon to establish their new city-states around the Abyssal Gateways, thought the gnolls were gone for good.

They were wrong....

The days after the Demon War were dark ones for the gnolls. Yeenoghu and Baphomet became enemies, each blam­ing the other for their defeat. As if fleeing from vengeful elves was not enough, the gnolls also found them­selves in constant skirmishes with their minotaur allies. Crossing the mountains with few supplies and no native guides only added to their misery. As a result, many of the gnolls perished before they ever reached safety beyond the mountains.

The gnolls arrived in a lawless region well away from civilization. Yet even with reduced numbers, the veteran gnoll warriors were able to claim a section of the forest as a new base. Once established, they sent out rangers to survey the area. They discovered that several humanoid warlords were operating in the wild and that a strong nation rumored to be ruled by dragons dominated the south. The gnoll tribes, having little to offer anyone but their battle experience, began to hire them­selves out as mercenaries to the vari­ous warlords. They quickly established a reputation for bloodthirstiness and ruth­less efficiency.

Once a warlord became completely dependent on gnoll troops, he would be overthrown and his lands added to that of the tribes. Every year, gnoll numbers and territory grew, and they dubbed their new land Naresh, meaning “far home” in their native tongue. The gnolls showed little interest in Western Oerik, and it is unlikely they would have turned their attention that way if not for the minotaurs.

The servants of Baphomet had settled deep under the mountains, away from both elves and gnolls. When the demon lord deemed the time right, he unleashed his minotaur bands against Naresh. Baphomet, it seemed, continued to nurse a grudge against Yeenoghu, and he wanted his rival's worshippers to suffer. A vicious war ensued.

Surprised at this onslaught from an unexpected quarter, the gnolls initially gave ground. Under the skillful leader­ship of their rangers, however, the gnolls “ceded” more territory to the minotaurs and lured them deep into the forest. This was the invaders’ undoing. Being masters of irregular warfare, the gnolls began whittling away at the mino­taur forces with traps and ambushes. Eventually, the sheer number of gnolls began to take its toll on their attackers, and they pushed the minotaurs back into the mountains.

With their enemies retreat, the gnoll tribal chiefs were in favor of declaring victory and ending the war. The priests of Yeenoghu, however, insisted on a counter invasion of minotaur territory. They claimed that their demon prince demanded vengeance, and faced with the word of Yeenoghu, the chiefs had little choice but to acquiesce. The war raged on. This time, the minotaurs had the advantage of fighting on their home turf. The gnolls fought through endless underground labyrinths, and while they were ultimately victorious, the price they paid was terrible.

Another period of rebuilding followed, and the gnoll tribes once again regained their strength. With the former minotaur territory now under their control, the gnolls found themselves, almost by acci­dent, near Ravilla. As time passed, gnoll rangers reported that the eastern defenses of Ravilla were eroding. The elves had never faced invasion from the mountains, and convinced that an attack from this direction would never come, they had grown lax. In light of these reports, the priests of Yeenoghu once again demanded action-here was an opportunity to take vengeance on an ancient foe.

Spurred on by the priests and aided by demons, a coalition of gnoll tribes attacked Ravilla’s eastern defenses. With ease, they rushed through the elven lines and then pushed on out of the moun­tains. Here, they met their match. In a series of bloody battles, the elves and their centaur allies stopped the gnolls and established a new border for Ravilla.

Nevertheless, the elves were in shock-the gnolls, gone for so long, had returned with a vengeance.

Knowing that if the gnolls ever suc­ceeded in breaking open the Abyssal Gateways at the heart of the gray elf cities all would be lost, the elves expected the worst. After their stinging defeat in the forest however, the gnoll tribes began squabbling. Some wanted to attack again, others wanted merely to enjoy the spoils they had already won. Lacking a strong leader, the gnolls ultimately mounted no major campaigns for over a hundred years.

Some forty years ago, a powerful demon fathered a son with a gnoll woman. This boy was called Jangir, and from a young age he proved a mighty warrior. He joined the priesthood of Yeenoghu and quickly rose through its ranks. With strength, charisma, and the power of demonic blood, Jangir dominated the priests of Yeenoghu and became high priest by the age of thirty. When Stratis was slain, Jangir had already decided to take the tribes to war.

Several weeks after the death of Stratis, a gnoll child came to the temple with a gift for Jangir. It was the flail of the slain god, which had fallen from the sky after the final battle. Here was an undeniable por­tent. With the flail in hand and Yeenoghu’s blessing, Jangir was unstoppable. He united the gnoll tribes under his own leadership and declared himself Priest-King of Naresh.

Now Jangir and the gnolls march to war with summoned demons at their side. If the Priest-King has his way, the Abyssal Gateways will be torn asunder, and Yeenoghu’s legions will once again terrorize Western Oerik. The elves ask and grant no quarter. They know they are one step away from annihilation.

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Drazen’s Horde

Your request for funding has been denied. The Blasted Desert is a natural barrier, so spending lavish amounts of gold on the series of border forts as you suggest would simply be wasteful. A strong cavalry patrol will be enough to deal with the few straggling orcs that make their way across the desert. The chances of a large force attacking the empire from this quarter are, in the estimation of this august body, nil

-Excerpted from the Annals of the Oligarchs, Year 652.

The Blasted Desert was the limit of Ravilla’s expansion in the south. The Oligarchs were aware of habitable regions beyond the desert, but they were deemed unimportant. Even Trigorian, the elven warlord par excel­lence, scrapped an expedition across the Blasted Desert when it became clear that taking an army through such ter­rain would be a logistical nightmare. A few scouts did make the trek, and what they reported simply confirmed and strengthened the Oligarchs’ stance.

The region below the Blasted Desert, known in Ravilla simply as “the Southlands,” was found teeming with savage humanoids such as orcs, hob­goblins, and bugbears. While the sheer number of warlike brutes was of some concern, the scouts reported that internecine fighting was rampant in the region. Tribe fought tribe so often that the whole area was in a perpetual state of war. Only the goblinoids’ leg­endary rate of reproduction kept the region from becoming depopulated by constant warfare.

The Oligarchs thus decided to turn their attention to other concerns, mainly the emerging nation of Thalos. The Southlands became an exotic destination for bands of adventurers, but little importance was attached to it. Even after the invasion of Ahmut and his nomadic baklien there was no call to march south. The bakliens were no more native to the Southlands than the elves were, and the people of Ravilla hoped the fleeing horsemen would be finished off by the savage humanoids so mad for war.

Into the chaotic milieu of the Southlands was born a hobgoblin named Drazen. Like all of his kin, he learned the value of discipline and leadership. The hob­goblin tribes were smaller than those of the orcs and bugbears, but they made up for it in organization and battle tac­tics. Throughout his youth, Drazen learned the hard lessons of the battlefield and proved quite astute. He gained a reputation for personal brav­ery and proved himself a brutally effective commander.

Despite his accomplishments, Drazen would likely have remained an obscure goblinoid warlord if fate had not inter­vened. The ambitious Drazen called an unprecedented meeting, bringing over 30 hobgoblin warlords and tribal chiefs together. He planned to try to form a coalition of tribes to increase hobgoblin hegemony in the Southlands. The meet­ing was interrupted, however, by an incredible display of pyrotechnics in the northern sky. None of those present had ever seen such a thing before. Eyes widened as a fiery streamer arced across the desert, growing larger by the second. The hobgoblins scattered as the flaming missile descended from the sky and exploded in the midst of their camp. Several chiefs were inciner­ated in the blast and the rest thrown to the ground.

Drazen and the other leaders shakily got to their feet. They ringed a deep crater bellowing with acrid smoke. One quick-think­ing adept blew the smoke away with a spell, revealing a battleaxe of unmatched craftsmanship. The weapon thrummed with power, and the same thought flashed into the mind of every warlord around the crater: With this axe in my hand / would be unstoppable. No one spoke, for there was nothing to be said. Weapons rang from scabbards and incantations filled the air. This was a fight to the death and all present knew it.

Several warlords leaped for the weapon right away, but spears and magic quickly cut them down. Drazen knew the adepts had to go first if he was to stand a chance. He rolled backward into the dark­ness and stalked around the crater until he spied a clutch of adepts flinging spells at raging warlords. Drazen came upon them without warning, attacking out of the darkness with terrible precision. The adepts fell one after the other, clearing the way to the crater. He then fought his way to the weapon and was the first to claim it. As his hand closed around the haft, he was filled with godly power. The remaining war­lords fell beneath the axe, leaving Drazen master of the axe and all the hobgoblin tribes.

Across the Blasted Desert With Stratis’s axe to aid him, Drazen proceeded to do the impossible. Once he had consoli­dated his command of the hobgob­lin tribes, Drazen led his army on a lightning campaign through the Southlands. Tribe after tribe fell before him. All were offered a choice: Join Drazen or die. Within two years he had conquered all of the Southlands, adding orcs, ogres, goblins, and bugbears to his grow­ing army. He also made a key alliance with a circle of orc druids. These disparate troops became a frightening force, held together by hobgoblin discipline.

Even Drazen’s hobgoblin offi­cers wondered what their leader proposed to do with the army he had assembled. The answer was not long in coming. Drazen had seen the fires in the sky. He knew that more of these weapons were to be found in the north, and he meant to make them his own.

If any doubted the sanity of a desert crossing, they kept their mouths firmly shut. Drazen and his hobgoblin lieutenants organized everything down to the smallest detail. The orc druids were key to the crossing, since they could pro­vide water to the troops and manipulate the weather. The march was arduous despite the prepara­tions, and thousands died in the month-long trek. Drazen felt no pity. In his judgment he had merely stripped away the weakest ele­ments of his army.

The army Drazen led into the Sundered Empire was mighty despite the losses. It sliced into the underbelly of the Free States and what was left of the elven defenses in ioo8. Huge swathes of territory fell to the horde. No one was ready for such an attack, and the elves were already beset on several sides. Drazen’s headlong advance was only checked by that of another victorious army, that of Thalos. The two forces met in the Free States, and Almira’s army defeated Drazen’s Horde in a hard-fought battle. This marked the limit of Drazen’s expansion, at least temporarily. Drazen opted to pull back, consolidate his gains, and recruit new troops.

The horde was thwarted once, but as long as Drazen still lives, it is a threat to every nation of the Sundered Empire.