War

There weren't always dragons in the Valley, in the days before the great transition they lived in the hills on the far side of Everlyn. When the Northern Tribes broke the seal to the abandoned Fortress of the Magi, the dragons fled to the Valley. Now, with the knowledge and power of the Magi’s black magic, the Northern Tribes are at war with each other, with the victor planning war on all of the other tribes in the land believing that victory will be an absolute certainty.

The dragons, while endowed with magic, haven’t the numbers or the power to stand against the strength of the Magi, but rumors of a reclusive half-human spellcaster have given the dragons a glimmer of hope.

The Northern and Southern tribes are human, the Eastern tribe is Grendorian, an elflike creature with the ability of flight and, in some rare cases, telekinesis, not extremely powerful, but there nonetheless. The Western tribe combines three different species of humanoid, gnome-like, gentle creatures who joined the alliance for protection, giants, with 6 limbs, two legs and 4 arms, who are specialists at waging war, and the G’s, waiflike creatures with unlimited intelligence and telepathic abilities that only work between others of their kind.

The Northern tribe has 7 factions, all representing a different region of the North. The breach of the castle involved 70, 10 from each tribe. The seal was powerful, and its breach was deadly to all but a few. Each of them acquiring only a portion of the Magi’s magic, and the vessels in which the secrets were stored. This led to infighting and the declaration of war on each other, every faction desiring to possess the full magic, and rule the world of Canbor.

The spellcaster of legend is, according to the story, the product of a human/G relationship that begat a child. It is the only time, according to legend, that the mingling had ever created offspring. The human tribes have long written these tales off as fantasy, however the Western tribe members believe it to be fact.

It’s said that he lives beneath the mountains that border the sea to the East, but none are allowed to pass through to the seas as the Grendorians hold that mountain range to be sacred.

Malik of the Southern tribe is the last of a long line of translators. Their use had fallen by the wayside when the tribes stopped cooperating. He is fluent in Dragonspeak, Grendorian, and could communicate wth the G’s as they also spoke in the old human tongue. Baroq, the Dragon Queen, has left the valley to find the translator and communicate the ongoing situation with the Northern tribes.

Tamor lived at the foot of the hills on the far side of Everlyn, and, even though he was human, he did not seek membership in any of the factions that formed the Northern tribes. He was a miner, digging small treasure from the hills in the form of quartzlike pieces called lightstones, said to protect the user from evil, and to ward off non-humans. They were small, but had enough value for him to trade for food and clothing. He watched the dragons leave their homes, and, rather than be concerned, he was delighted as it increased his access to the hills and the treasures they contained. He had no idea of the carnage he was about to experience when he entered their former lair. The path to the former home of the dragons was littered with carrion, as they fed like raptors, ripping the flesh from the creatures they devoured. Dragons don’t eat people, the taste is not of their liking, they do, however have a strong appetite for a weasel like creature that roams the hills. The size of a large man, these mandrols live in abundance all along the Western edge of the hills. Dragons were careful not to wipe out the species as that would have driven them to another food source. The stench, along with the pure ugliness of the sight nearly turned him back from his journey. He pressed on, however, with visions of wealth dancing about his imagination.