History Of The Era Of The Overlords

(un edited) Greeting and good day. My name is Berthem. I am a traveler and collector of stories. I am unique in my studies, as I specialize in a time, where almost nothing is known. We call this the Time of the Overlords. It is really a rather bland name for an age, and one that I most desperatley would like to change, however, no one has come up with anything better. When they do, I shall be quite willing to change the name of this volume.

I have collected many stories of people who lived in, or had a relative alive during the time. As most know these would be mostly Elves and dwarves, though one of my most interesting conversations I had was with a special type if being. One that does not normally speak often with men of my stature. I will begin my story with the Tale of Glimginstorm, the bronze dragon.

There are a great many tales about Glimginstorm but most lead to dead ends and hearsay, but while following the account of an old shepard, who told me he once had the dragon eat one of his prize ewes, I was startled to find that not only did the dragin exist, but was as interested in me as I was him. There I was, traveling up the rocky path of a mountain that the shepard said led to a secluded watering hole where the dragon could be found. I reached the end of the path which took me to one of the most breathtakign sights I had ever seen. There hidden in the mountain, a beautiful clear pure lake, fed by a waterfall over 200 feet in height. It was a travelers dream, to find such a place unmolested. How it had been kept secret so long, I could not imagine. I walked to the rocky shore, and found on the rocks, a stranded turtle. The thing was barely big enough to be called full grown, and it was lying on its back, legs in the air wiggleing. Truth be told I had barely seen it, as I was so taken by the beauty of the lake, that had my stomach not taken that exact moment to remind me I hadn't eaten all morning, I would never had sat upon the rock, the stranded visitor was lying so close to. Had that turn happened, I am sure this story would be quite different. Well, anyways, I picked the amphibian up and with a subtle admonishment about going where you don't belong, I placed the wayward wandered back into his aquatic home. I sat back and opened my pack to pull my lavish lunch of travel bread and cheese, and to take in the sight of the sun, shining on the water sprayed rock, that glisined in rainbow colors, due to the sun reflecting of the watery mist. I felt a strange sensation come over me as if I had forgotten something. I looked down, and found the same turtle, lying on its back not a foot away. I was a persistant little bugger, I'll say that, and I again led it back to it watery home with another lecture about wandering in places that can be inhospitable. I returned to my meal, comtemplating whether or not the shepard saw somehting it mistook for a dragon, or if he was just making the story up so I would leave him and his flock alone, when I felt on my boot the movement of something small. I looked down, to see the same turtle, this time crawling as rapidly as a turlte could crawl to the same rock, I had found him on earlier. Not wanting him to get upended again, I picked my new friend up slowly, and placed him feet first on the rock. Turning back to my meal, I was just about to take my last bite, when the sun was suddenly blocked out. I turned just in time to see the amazing form of Glimginstorm.
Now if you have ever seen a dragon, than you can imagine the feeling that went through me at that moment. If you haven't, then all I can say is it is indescribable. Take the worst thing that ever happened to you, and then th best thing and roll them into one, uncrease them by ten and add a huge helping of surprise and you will start to get an idea of what the gaze of a dragon can do to you. It spoke then, and all I can remember about that moment, is that for such a creature, it had such a normal voice. Of course I did not hear a word he said, so he had to repeat it more slowly. "I heard you have been lookign for me?" I didn't know at that point whether to be amazed that I had garnered the notice of such a great beast, or to be terrified that I had garnered the notice of such a great beast. I stammered some answer I hope would be taken as a yes, and he chuckled. Now, if you think talking to a dragon is strange, hearing one chuckle is simply bizzare and too much queerness for my poor brain to handle. I shut down, and simply pretended that it was not a dragon, but some human. It worked superbly, and I found I was able to have quite the pleasant conversation with him.

Now, I would love to tell you the entire conversation word for word, however that would be impossible. You see speaking to a Dragon is not an easy task. They like to control the conversation and regardless of the subject you ask about it always comes back to thier favorite subject. Themselves. One day perhaps I will write the tales of Glimginstorm in full, but that is a tale for another volume. I did learn several important things about the time of the Overlords, in which this dragon was around to see. According to my new bronze friend, when he was born, this world had Three main races. Elves, Dwarves and Humans. Now, as thier own histories tell, in which I will get to later, Dwarves had not yet left thier mountains. No dwarf had set foot ourside under sky, nor met any other race but thier own. Elves likewise had lived in the ancient forest that were both on this world and on another at the same time. While they were aware there were other creatures on the planet, as a race they were two young to be interested in anyhting but thier own existance. Humans however were different. Now let me exlp[ain that according to my source, the human of then and the human of now are not quite the same. While they looked similar, there were poweful differences. My Dragon narator descirbed them as shining peircing points of light compared to the steady burning flame that humans are today. I tried to get him to elaborate on that but he said that it is better left to thoes who care about humans more than he.
These humans unlike the other races freely mingle with other creatures of the time, namely Giants, Dragons, and other types of races that are no longer seen. Humans of the time were also powerful magic users. It seemed they had the ability to use thier own lifeforce to fuel thier magic. This type of magic is know as soulfire these days and its effects are well documented. Well, several of the most powerful of these human, learned a way to use other's soulfire to power thier magic, and soon the human society became a system of thoes who used and thoes who were used. Giants were tried as sources but they burned out to quickly even though they were much larger. Other races were used as fuel also, but none had the lasting power of human souls. Thoes that used the power really were reckless and soon found themslelves in a precarious situation. Humans were becoming harder and harder to find. The 12 most powerful of all the caster banded together and devided the human territory amoung themselves. They each declared that could use all they wanted in thier region, but they would not be allowed to touch the soul of another's. Two of these new Overlords burned through thier stock very quickly, and in the end burned themselves out. The other learned that they had to conserve thier resources, and so thier society grew stable. The distinction between overlord and slave grew though until humans were completley subjegated to the point they could no longer even use thier our soulfire. It is unknown how long this lasted, as Glimginstorm really had no more interest in the antics of the overlords. The next great change though was told to me by another source. A historian named Anvil Metalforger.

Now, I wish I could tell you more of Anvil, but I can't for you see, as I am writing this, he has been dead for thousands of years, give or take a thousand. Anvil, was a dwarf that lived during the time the dwarves first amde contact with the being who live under Nor's sky. While his tale is told by m any dwarven scholars, (though some acount change from the telling, which is a rarety in dwarven oral history), a few of his writing actually survive. One being a inscribed metal journal. While I was doing some reearch I happened upon a dwarf who had heard me speak the name of one of the Overlords. He said he had heard the name before and told me about the book written by Anvil. I am keeping his name a secret, to protect him from his peers but I am sure he received a stern talking to when he returned to the hearth. Well, armed with knowledge of this books existance, I made my way to one of the most inhospitable land I have ever known. It is called the IceWall, and it is one of the last know refuges of Dwarven society. I entered the city asking to share share some tales and knowledge and was welcomed warmly. Until I brought up the topic of the Journal of Anvil. I was then promplty tossed out on my ass.
Well not one to be put off so easily, I pleaded, begged, bribed (By the way dwarves like to be bribed even less than they like beggars), and made a pest out of myself. Finally I did the only thing left to me. I died. Mind you it was not a planned event, and looking back on it now, I think I may have been able to have come up with a better solution, but this one worked. I guess I ought to explain, I mean I certainly could not have died and still been able to write this tale. Well, maybe I could, but that is a story for another day. I told the dwarves that if they would not let me in to see the journal, then I would stand outside thier entrance until they did.
My stand turned into a sit in quite quick which soon turned into a lie down, after my feet grew numb. I would have given up then, but apparently a couple of days in the icewall freexinf snow, does something to your head, that resembles a swift and painful knock. On day three my nearly dead body was carried in, or so I was told. When I awoke Dargard, 17th King of the Icewall was seated on his throne starting down at me. "Persistant mudder aren't you. Fine you can see the journal, but only because I never muddin heard of ya, and even if ya did tell the tale in a book ye plan to write, no one would probably muddin read it."
I learned that day that mud is a derogatory to dwarves, as it implies that one is soft and runny, rather than hard and stable like stone. It should also not be confused with the term Your mudder, ar my mudder, which while close is always followed by words of respect.
So I was led down into a deep part of the tunnels, which was thankfully warm, and was allowed to enter a room filled with many sacred dwarven artifacts. I was allowed to look at the Anvil but not allowed to touch it. That fact was made very plain by the five axe-weilding dwarven warriors that escorted me and were waiting with anticipation for me to "not follow the instructions to the letter". I ws also not allowed to copy any of it. Fortunatley, I have a very respectable memory and am quite fluent in Dwarven. The journal peices that survived was not that long at all, but held a very important part of the puzzle. Here is how it read..

Well, Now before I begin, let me just remind you that old Dwarven is not an easy language to translate, so I had to take some liberties with the text. Anyway, here is what it said.
Today, the dwarven world got turned all muddy. Now, we had always known (well most sane dwarves have known) that there are other thngs out there. Especially near the surface. That was why we stayed down here. Not that we are cowards, but why muck up a good thing when you don't have to. Well our new King has different ideas though, and wanted to know what was on the surface. Maybe a new type of metal, or rock. Maybe rare gemstones, or something else wonderful. The last thing we expected was to find a human. It looked mighty funny at first, being all beardless and lanky. We all wondered how it stood up on its own, without falling over, but the thing that surprised us was that is was intelligent. Maybe even more intelligent than we are. He sure enough fixed us good. He said his name was karzoug and he had been waiting for us. He must have heard our digging as we weren't being very subtle. We invited him into our homes to see how we lived, as a gesture of friendship. Our mistake. He marveled at the craftmanship, no doubt making plans to use our skill for his needs. The true mistake wasnt that though, it was showing him our runecasters. It was strange knowing that he also practised a type of magic like we did. That we were not expecting. We got so excited that we showed him too much. He was crafty though, and all he needed was one demonstration. It wasn't long before we met other surface dwellers. They were the giants that hauled us out of our holes and threw us in chains. The elves who taught us how to obey and what we could say and not say. They were slaves too, but a different type. They were not made to toil. We were, it is what we dwarves are good at. I think the worst part of it, is knowing that they took our runes, and twisted them for thier own needs. They turned our heritage against us, and then stole it from us. One day, they will know what comes of messing with dwarves. I promise that much.

It ended there, though I am sure there is or was much more, but it showed a big peice of the puzzle. It showed where the overlord learned runemagic. It shows the treachery of Karzoug, the most powerful of them, and, it may give a peice to what finally brought them down.

I sepnt some time learning about how Rune Magic works. It is quite confusing for somone like me who has no aptitude for magic or artistry for that matter, as I can barely draw a straight line. It seems shapes have the ability to conect to things. They tie into peices of the world that you or I can't see. Magic runes tie themselves into the ley lines of magic that run through the world. Each one can channel a bit of that energy to be used for a certain purpose. A rune on a door, can use the energy from a leyline to hold itself together better, etc. Well, Karzoug spent a long time studying these runes. You see that was karzoug greatest gift. He was a genius, and when he put his mind to something, the result were usually spectactular, as well as horrifying. Karzoug made a great discovery about the runes, or rather about the world in General. He owed that discovery to the elves. I spoke with an elven scholar about this discovery to find out a little more about it. I found the experience almost as trrying as my dwarven escursion earlier.

Now, if you think Dragon are vain, than you have not met an elf. Don;t get me wrong, they are no much full of themselves as dragon, but they seem to have this idea that if it something does not affect elves, then it isn;t important enough to be talked about. Also, elves have the great ability to keep secrets, especially when they have something to do with a bad part of the Elven History. I was fortunate enough to find an elf that was willing to go against the elders and speak to me about things that are not normally spoken about.
I visted Labossier at his home in Coral Reef. It was very extravagant, and… Soft is the best word I could use. Ever sitting surface had an expensive stuffed pillow for comfort. Each had its own matching ottomen. The walls were rounded so that the house teemed with an almost plantlike beauty, and the saftey from sharp edges. Labossier met me in his parlor, carrying three glasses of Elverquillen. Elven wine is an aquired taste, I must saw. Most of it is much to sweet to be palatable to most humans, and Elverquillen was the sweetest of them all. Even among elves, it was concidered a maiden's dink, or one for gentlemen who.. well who drink ladies drinks. I took a sip of the wine, and instantly my mouth started watering. It was almost as if I has sucked on a lemon, and my tounge and mouth were trying to wash away the sourness. I put the drink down on a cloth napkin, reserved for just this purpose. Labossier took a much longer drink, and as brough his glass down, his whole body shivered slightly, and I though I heard a dtrange almost moanlike giggle. He looked me straight in the eye. "What I am about to tell you, will certainly annoy the elder to no end. This is a dark time in our history, a turning point you could say. They would rather deny its existance, rather tham admit they had been taken. It is thier Elven pride. When something does not fit in thier ideal picture of how elven society should be they turn thier back on it." He took another drink if the sweet wine. I lifted my own glass to my lips in the mockery of drink, so as not to offend my host. In the little time I had know him, I found that his mood could easily change from complacent for viscious or moments. From the hallway I heard the door to the hous open. Labossier's eyes lit with anticipation. The sound of heavy boots filled the room, as the reason for Labossier's fude with the Elders entered the room. Stefan, a tall darkskinned reefer, who worked the dock during the day entered. He walked through the room with small nod towards me which I returned and casually embraced Labossier, releasing after a moment only to share a kiss which showed the affection of the two. He left us, retreated to the washroom, and Labossier sat stunned for a moment, as if his world had simply come together and he wanted to savor the moment.

Now, it is common knowledge that as elves mature there is a period in thier lives of sexual exploration. It is one of the main differences between outr two races, that elves are encouraged to have realtion with many other elves during this times. It allows them to release thier sexual energy and experience all facets of physical romance, so as they grow older and find thier true match, they will have already had many experience that for humans are the main case of infidelity. The fact that a elf can enter into a relationship with another who has had sexual relations with many many other before, it often a mystery to Human, who prefer thier mates to be pure of body. During this time, most young elve experiment with pairing of the same gender. It is much more common for females, then males, but is still prevelent for both sexes during this time. Now, elves are expected to grow out of that phase and find a mate that completes them, and allow them to contribute to society by procreating. Some elves however never lose that prediposition to other of thier own gender. Some are know to hide the prefrence and live a normal life perhaps indulgin now or then is a liason. Some beleive that this can be very detrimental to the union between Elven life partners, and instead feel that an elf with this disposition should instead be open about his prefrenses and live his life as open. Elven society however does not believe in this. They feel that a grown elf should accept his part in the society and be responsible to it. This includes being able to help in producing the next generation of elves. Thoes that do not, are asked to leave, not quite exiled, but not quite wlecome. Many join human societies where everything about elves is equally myseruious, so when an elf take a lover of the same gender, it is seen as just another strange elven custom, and there for the elf can find acceptance. Enter Labossier. He left his village when he ws but a boy of 98, knowing then that he could never be a pert of normal human society. He had lived here on Coral Reef, specifically the area of the town known as Fea town, where his situation was not that uncommon. Stefan has been his companion for the last 20 years. They lived a quite life but Labossier, still feels a victim of the society that could not accept him. Because of this, he takes every oppurtunity to quitley rebel against the elder, and was willing to fill me in on a peice of the puzzle that had been missing. The history of Karzoug interaction with the elven people was tought to him as this.

cont… sorry for the delay on this and the races, doing some dm genie work getting ready for PRPG - ron

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