Taelgar - The Enchanted Lands
The old man settled on a log opposite of you and lit up a pipe. He wore the traditional brown robes of one of the druidic orders, but you’re not really sure which one. He squinted as he stoked up the fire and began to speak in a soft, gravelly voice.
“Come, child…listen to a tale of how the world came to be in this state. Of a time that ended the better days…”
As you settle in, the old man begins to tell his tale.
120 years ago, the Torgan descended through a rip in the Veil to assault our world of Taelgar. They arrived first in Alexandria, the Empire of the High Elves. For one hundred years war raged and Alexandria was nearly reduced to ruin before they managed to drive the Torgan south. Sadly, south means to Tamara…our homeland. In just the span of 20 years, our kingdom has degenerated into an empire of dust and death.
First they came down out of the mountains and raided every barbarian village between there and the Plains of Mornath…now known as the Plains of Blood. They skirted the Draghonach Wood, fearing what may await them in the dimly lit bowers and brambles. It took several years, but finally they reached the city of Kingsport, our kingdom’s capital.
Despite the efforts of the armies of the kingdom and its many baronies, the walls around Kingsport could not hold the Torgan out forever. Those who would aid us, the elves and dwarves, were nowhere to be found. It is presumed they had their own wars to deal with. We were alone…Tamarans all, barbarians, Tamarians, even the gypsy clan of the Rauwie…but all were driven back…driven like dogs towards the sea. The city fell…the Ivory Palace of Tamara razed…and our kingdom turned to dust.
The Torgan were patient…and needed not the resources that we do. They did not sleep. They ate little…and they could drink the waters of the sea. The vile demons had us in the beginning…but still we fought. We fought and we died.
Now, here we are…camped outside the small settlement of Caer Maevryn, one of the last human bastions remaining. The Torgan’s occupation came at a terrible cost..to us…to them…to everyone. The Draghonach Wood became known as the Spiritwode…fell spirits awakened to defend its evil borders. Yet, those borders provide us with sanctuary. The Torgan do not think to explore all around such a forest…and we lie hidden, safely in the plains between there and the Kiergar Mountains. We are overlooked…and we are safe because of it.