Chapter Text
History has a habit of fading into myth if left unattended. That is where I, Rosalina, come in. A being of great power, yet vowed not to interfere, only to record in truth.
And the tale I am about to tell is one you might think you know, but like much of history, it has been whited-washed and changed by the course of time. The true story is one of nightmares, dreams, adventure, horror, and more..
So, please...listen to my tale, and learn the truth of it all...
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Between the time when the oceans drank Atlantis and the rise of the sons of Aryas, there was an age undreamed of…and the world of Eldrador…
A world of magic and elements, with many races roaming its lands, pursuing their own lives and creeds. Human, elves, dwarves, beastkin, gnomes, fey, and more, all living among each other and engaging in trade and events. Skirmishes were kept to a minimum to avoid unneeded death and destruction.
Wonders and dreams were built in the great ages. Magic works of unparalleled genius were developed, from towers of art, to libraries of grand lore and spells, even sentient automatons. All to further the glory and peace of the world.
An age of glory, this time. One that seemed to last for many lifetimes in this grand world. Even the foes about did little to threaten the peace.
So how did it all come crashing down...? The beginning of the end came from a most unlikely source.
An Elf of Life, Belkoth. He was born to a grand tribe of such elves, and seemed to show great promise as he grew. A fine warrior, mage, and leader, something that many would strive for in elfhood. Ah, but such a talents would only lead to arrogance, and he did grow proud, proclaiming that he would be the one to strike down the foes that all feared.
The Gods of Chaos. Khorne the Blood God, Nurgle the Plaguefather, Tzeentch the Changer of Ways, and Slaanesh the Prince of Pleasure. Four deities of great power and corruption. Every now and then, they would send Daemons to harass and torment the people. Nothing major yet, but some said it was only a matter of time before the full force was unleashed.
But Belkoth, proud, claimed that day would never come. He would find the gateway to the foul realm and bring down the gods, sealing them forever! This announcement, made to many of the realm, was met with great applause and hope.
However, one society did not share joy. They were the Shade Bugs, insectoids of the vast underground kingdom of Hallownest. Strange folk with odd powers over shadow and light, they were quite knowledgeable in all things related to their fields...and they knew that Chaos would not be so easily defeated. In fact, they would use Belkoth’s pride to their advantage and start something devastating to all.
However, the attempts of the Pale King and White Lady, their leaders, to warn the elf were dismissed. He was better than such temptations, and would not fall to their little games. Further more, he denounced the Shade Bugs as cowards and fools for not being willing to aid in the war effort.
Offended and furious, the Shade Bugs retreated back to the domain to wait out the storm, and to prepare for any invaders that would breach their defenses. With the deeper parts serving as better shelter for certain types of sages and scholars.
Belkoth soon gathered a small elite force of the finest warriors and mages to lead into battle. They marched to the fell lands were daemonic activities was the greatest, ready to end it all!
But the Chaos Gods had indeed sensed the elf coming, and devised a plan. Forging a brief alliance, they had one of each of their greatest mages to forge something, and even instilled a bit of their own power into the object.
A Grail, black as obsidian and carved with blasphemous symbols, filled with a dark liquid. This object would be the key to their invasion. As well as the proud elf..
As Belkoth made his way closer to them, the Gods sent him visions in his dreams. Dreams of power and glory that could be his in the future, if he only took the proper steps. The world could be his to keep safe from threats and worse from beyond even the planet itself.
Belkoth ignored these visions at first, believing he had what it took himself to succeed in his mission, and pressed on. But they kept coming, and he saw himself as king of all Eldrador, and then beyond. It was...tempting, but he kept them from his comrades and buried within...
And it took the toll as they traveled through wastes, facing great monsters of horrors, landscapes that defied sense, and more...
And then, as they almost reached their goal, they came across something. A grail, deep black, with strange symbols and filled with deep red liquid. Belkoth...felt drawn to it. Perhaps this would be the key to power to rule all! His companions tried to dissuade from taking in the foul thing, but Belkoth, driven by a lust for domination and control, ignored them all, and took the grail and drunk deep.
The transformation was swift and brutal. Dark of skin, fangs in the mouth, and great curved horns. He had becomes something twisted and evil, an agent of Chaos. Slaughtering his comrades, he began his bloody campaign.
Not just Daemons of all four gods came to his aid, but many other foul beings. The twisted Beastman of Chaos. The savage, warlike Greenskins tribes. Legions of undead warriors. The loathsome Skaven rats. The Kremling pirate readers. All these and more joined the call.
And the nightmare began in earnest. The foul armies rampaged through Eldrador, burning cities to the ground, slaughtering and raping all in their way. Countless tomes of knowledge were destroyed. Automatons wrecked and dismantled.
All hope seemed lost as Belkoth’s rampage moved throughout the lands, eager to sate the thirst of the foul Gods.
But then came hope. A man, Alcedor, an duke of a small settlement, took up arms, unwilling to simply let this occur. He started with raids that relied of stealth and hit-and-run tactics. But as words of his deeds and resolve spread, and many began to join his cause.
Battles began, and turned into outright war. Many on both sides were killed, even as the land was devastated and twisted by battle and magic. Both sides tried to get each other to fall back and accept defeat, but that rapidly became clear that was not an option. Only total victory would suffice at this point.
The battles raged for years, forcing many to take refuge in the wilderness for survival, all while the magic energy caused rapid evolution and change in the flora and fauna of the world. Deadly beings, making sure only the most adaptable could survive the new world.
After so long, the final battle came, and Alcedor and Belkoth faced off directly as their armies did battle to decided the fate of the land. Days and nights they fought, with the boddy count growing higher. But soon the Daemon horde swelled up once more, and it seemed all hope would be lost.
But then a wondrous thing occurred. The Shade Bugs, knowing what was at stake, called upon the power of the void from the home, and unleashed a great black hole across the filed, banishing the Daemons from whence they came. It was also this void that knocked the Grail away from Belkoth and banished to parts unknown.
Much of Belkoth’s power was drawn from the Grail...and without it, he was far more vulnerable. With a great swing of his mace, Alcedor destroyed the body of the fiend and sent his soul back to the nether realms, as the dark forces disbanded, winning the war at last.
But the cost was great. Alcedor had suffered fatal wounds, and passed away shorlty after the body, leaving no heir. A grand sendoff was given to the man. But it was more...the world has been ravaged, reduced to scattered settlements in a new wild world. Technology lost, with only one automaton said to survive who fled into hiding.
Whole cities were destroyed, the worse off being Nehekhara, a desert city once so grand and prosperous, now reduced to rubble and ruin, a land where only the dead ruled now...with the first of their kings, Settra, taking charge and closing the borders to the living, enraged by what had happened.
The armies of Belkoth were scattered about, and formed various bands of raiders to survive, preying on the weak and vulnerable. All while Belkoth was wrecked and mangled...but not destroyed. No, the Gods, despite the loss, were pleased by the chaos unleashed in the first place, so they allowed Belkoth to heal...a time that would take many years...
But he did return, weakened but still possessing might. Unseen by most, he retreated to a foul island castle, and gathered some servants to plot...and to find the Grail to restore his might, and finish what he started.
Ages passed. And this is where my tale shall begin at last...