The War of the North

It begins in the summer of ’74 of Arelith Reckoning. Close to Midsummer’s Day do plans become unfurled and the warm breeze lost upon still winds. Auril’s breath descended upon the lands. Summer was cut short. We never saw it to the end, nor did we see the autumn that was too follow. Winter was coming.

It came swiftly, covering the land in an impenetrable darkness. We did not see the light of day, except for two brief hours, every morn. That glimmer of hope upon the horizon. Snow was everywhere. Crops faltered, the yield was poor. And more than one life was lost in the perpetual darkness. Winter was already here.

It only worsened, and the isle’s state only worsened in the coming months. Many were confused, and many had theories on who was to blame. The Mad Lizard Vippin was subject to some skepticism, as were Sharrans, and vampire covens. Aurilites were targeted the most frequently. And while some overlooked such ideas when attempts, turned futile, were enacted in the Spires, in the end, it was the Frost Maiden’s doing. But of a severity none could fathom.

In the final month of year ’74, the winter had come to its apex. It was here, it had come. And there was no sign of it relenting under any effort made by the freepeoples of the north. Creatures of the mountain began to move their way down upon the hilllands, forests and plains. No place was safe. Polar bears roamed the lands, hungry and ferocious. Yetis drove back the ogrekin and overtook the forest. And even manticores of icy quality. Rifts were seen across the isle, and fierce ice elementals pushed through to the Prime, along with towering dragons of ice and death.

The freefolk met such quarrel- knights, rangers, Bendirians, magi and Cordorians stood to the challenge. But vicious beasts roaming was not the end of it. The War of the North came into reality when Shäalira the Younger, Champion of Tyr, did battle with a White Knight along the northern forest pasts of the great woods. At the cost of a grievance wound, did she sever the head of the foul creature. It did not die. The head rolled, the body lingered, a laughter on the air. This inhuman creature slaughtering all that stood before it. It spoke of old gods, Ulutiu, Lord of the North. By faith did the Tyrran survive, and did she bring back the White Knight’s appearance to Light Keep. Here, a company assembled – Forsworn, Keepers, and all manners of freefolk – to march north and learn more of this ‘White Knight’. At the same time, did word come down from the mountain of a barbarian horde assembling under own banner, under a woman with a talking axe. A company of Bendirians set forth from Benwick at this news to head to Brogendenstein, to aid the dwarves in what would be known as the Battle of the Golden Halls.

The company tracked the trail of their opponent to bridge of Minmir, in the heart of the northlands. There, did they do battle with him and left his body in ruin. The company faced few casualties, but the cold, the biting cold, was a troublesome and terrifying thing. When they slew the White Knight, his voice lingered on the winds. It spoke of Ulutiu, the great slumbering god of the arctic, and of the giantkin. Auril, the Frost Maiden, forever his lesser, sought to steal his godhood in his slumber. To do this, she would need to cover Abeir-Toril in shadow and snow: her Endwinter. Auril would begin this conquest here, on Arelith, by the birth of her avatar. This archipelago would be her Womb. The beginning… of the end.

Recovering their strength in the northlands, the company who slew the White Knight set out to Brogendenstein soon after. They relayed with a large company at the cliffs of the Golden Halls, where the mighty dwarves had already prepared barricades and fortifications to reply the advancing army.

It was only a scarce few hours before the barbarian horde was upon them. Wave upon wave of fierce tribal men descended the mountains, but the freepeoples of Arelith resisted them. The barricades stood strong. It would take more than simple axes to break the will of the defenders.

And more was given. Vampires quickly descended, and the little girls of the Manor Mourn. The ranks were torn; the defenders retreated back into the safe halls of Brogendenstein. The scores of vampires swept down the mountainside and loosed themselves upon the lowlands below.

The freefolk then decided that in this time of advancement, the center of the storm would be left vulnerable. With magical portal lenses, a small party teleported to the Temple of Auril; there, they found the priestess of Auril turned to ice. Another group quickly relayed with them, pushing up the eastern flank of the Spires.

There, did the united freefolk witness the restructuring of a rune circle hidden beneath the snow, near the path to the mountaintop. The rune circle, when completed, summoned the Stygian devil known as Maximillian. An accountant he is, of seemingly fair disposition. He has been seen within the Isle’s history long before this time. He relayed to the company of the Three- three individuals dedicated to act out Auril’s will and bring about the Endwinter and the birth of Auril’s Avatar. For with such a figure, would She be able to cover all of Abeir-Toril in a second darkness, of shadow and snow.

We have come to learn, in hindsight, the Three was composed of the Mistress of the Vampires of the Manor Mourn; a djinn merchantess of the southlands; and a fierce warrioress who united the barbarian hordes together and wielded a talking axe.

Maximillian alerted the company to the Iron Fortress in the western path of the Spires, where one of the Three resided. With haste, did the freefolk set forth and push through the stone halls of the fortress, and fight the Mistress there, in a hall of mirrors (no irony for a vampiress, surely). With one of the Three diminished, two were left. ~~ (likely VII) Before the death of the vampiress, the company overheard the word “Cordor” spoken. When the Mistress of the Hall of Mirrors was felled, the gaze of the freefolk turned south. In Cordor, it was learned that a girl, of a young, ripe age, was missing. Searches went out, and those of Benwick worked with the Cordorian Guard, and other freefolk, to find this missing girl.

The trail led to a ship docked in the Cordorian harbor, a strange and exotic vessel. The companions boarded with force, and it became self-evident that something foul was at play. They were attacked by strange creatures- golems and elementals both.

The company soon confronted another of the Three, the djinni lady-merchant, tied to the Plane of Ice, a subplane of the Plane of Water. A fierce battle ensued, and notably, Aria Sweetwater delivered ‘Sune’s Embrace’ upon the djinn. The company was successful, but with the final battle, the ship was torn asunder and nearly all were lost at sea.

The fellowship drifted back ashore, and all were alive. The girl, however, was not to be found. With the investigation in Cordor coming to a close, two of the Three were killed. There was only one left to do the work of the Frostmaiden- the barbarian warlord with the talking axe.

The final battle I have called “The Battle of the Wyrm”. In the month of Hammer, on the fourteenth day, did the freefolk of the isle receive word that the barbarian horde was massing in the northlands. So very close to where it at all began.

A company assembled, of rangers, Lightkeepers, wizards and more, and did they march across the bridge of Minmir to do battle. The barbarian horde was preparing some ritual, something else, to subdue the isle into the birthplace of Auril’s global imperial conquest.

Even after the small army subdued the barbarian horde, and felled their great leader- the last of the Three-, they realized time was up. They were too late. For, beneath the waters of lake Minmir, did a great wyrm arise! A beast of the unliving, a lizard taller than Abazuur and thrice as fierce.

It was here, then, that the company fought, bled and died in battle against this wyrm of Auril. And it is there, did they succeed.

With its vicious wings stirring the air to make the company immobile, the fight was futile. It was resistant to magic, its hide was thick. It was only when it lurched forward, to snap its maw at Amadeo Pneuma, did Erik Silverarms bring up his mighty sword of Torm and plunge its blade into the neck of the great beast.

It ebbed, it waned, it fell. The company was victorious. On the fifteenth of Hammer of year 75, Auril, enemy of the freepeoples of Arelith, was defeated.

Thus, this concludes the chapter of Arelithian history known as the “War of the North.” Notable figures in the war include, but are not limited to: Nelehein, Verankht Zarunkumar, Amadeo Pneuma, Mari Meyne, Shera Hart, Lucard Cousland, Aria Sweetwater, Kira Strata, Athrun Strata, Yvaine Aelfgar, Gavaine d’Amorte, Erik Silverarms, River Moonchild, Tel’Quessir, Phasmatis, Pugdish Wolvenguard, Sincra Talos, Roland Asend, Peony Bagley, Kadar Sayyim, and Tamra.

Auril’s conquest was repelled. The status of the White Knight is still questionable, vague- ambiguous. Ulutiu continues his slumber. May He never be disturbed again.

May they never be forgotten, may the War of the North be remembered ‘til the End of Days, with all of its heroes, its triumph, its tragedy and its loss- may it never be forgotten.

~ Ser Nelehein of Impiltur, Sage-Knight of the Road and Last of the Great Skalds of Impiltur, 75 AR