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Anacharia

6th of October 4567 A.G.I

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Long ago, the Elves and the Dwarves lived in peace together, the Elves ruling above ground and the Dwarves down below, under the earth. Life was simple and good, trade flourished and all was well. The Dwarves supplied the various Elves with metals, gems and masonry, while the Elves provided almost all of the food the Dwarves ate, along with the wood to make hafts for their axes and picks.   For centuries this went on, and all were content, but then a great stirring from the southern desert brought forth a great horde. A new race, the Greenskinned people of Orc, Goblin, Troll and Giant came forth, venturing for new lands to conquer and corrupt. They were lead by a Great Demon, a terrifying beast who controlled his army with sheer brutal force.   The Dwarves and Elves at first did what they could to hold off the invaders, but soon realized that they would not be able to hold on their own. The numbers were too many, and despite the sturdiness of the Dwarves and the lethal grace of the Elves, they were slowly being overrun.   And so emissaries were deployed, traveling North over the White Peaks, West to the Endless Sea and East into the Deepwood. Another decade passed, and their foes pushed ever onwards, the great struggle finally breaching the desert and venturing into High Elven land. Never before had a High Elven Citadel been breached by a foe, but that became a thing of the past as overwhelming hordes battled against them. The first gate was broken, and pouring through the city were the greenskin horde, led by their Demon-King. The aftermath left the Elves enraged beyond any other offense, and coincided with the arrival of three new allies to the war.   From the West, having been rescued from a terrible fate on a dismal island came the Bachians, or little folk. Only half as tall as a man, they were not fighters of any renown or skill, but were far better farmers and growers than any Elf. It was agreed they would take over the duties of farming the land in exchange for land of their own to call home. What's more, while they were generally no great warriors, among their number were those who had a natural knack for the craftier arts. Together with Dwarves, they planted traps, and hatched many a plot that lead to the death of hundreds of Orcs and Goblins in minutes.   From the North came the race of Man, stronger and taller than Elves, they were almost as sturdy as Dwarves, and bred like rabbits in comparison to either of the original inhabitants. Their numbers began to help sway the balance of the long war, the brave actions of the Humans, as well as the quick grasping of Elven battle tactics combined with their own led to many a victory for the first time in a century. The humans proved to easily be the most adaptable, where as the Dwarves were stubborn and the Elves arrogant, the humans knew themselves neither as strong or as fierce as their foe, but there were those who's strength outmatched the Greenskin, even if their numbers did not.   For from the East, venturing through the Deepwood, came the Xhol, or Were. These were beings who looked much like men, but with one difference. These beings were a race of shape-changers, beings who were able to take on a form that resembled half man, and half beast. Their strength was mighty and though their culture crude by comparison to most bar the Greenskins, their ferocity more than made up for it. It was with this third and final ally that the five races managed to finally begin beating back the Greenskins.   Another century of War passed, but finally peace began to reign once more. The Demon had been banished by a host of Xholtic Shaman, powerfull magick wielders. Indeed it had been the use of Magick that had been the final gift that led to the end of the 250 year war. For while Elves could wield the magicks of the earth, Dwarves could not, and Elven spell casters numbered only two when the invasion commenced. With the addition of Great Wizards of the humans, and the tribal Shamans of the Xhol, the Greenskins were beaten, pushed back to the Southernmost part of the desert, and there they were finally given peace. Their numbers whittled down and their leader gone, they surrendered in exchange for living in the barrens, a place which only they could survive.   As for the Five allies, an accord was met. The Dwarves would once more live below the Earth, mining and crafting with the Deep Elves. The Humans and Bachians would lie to the North, in colder lands usually occupied only by the Snow Elves, who's population had plummeted from the war, many dying of the heat, fighting in the desert. Finally the Xhol asked only for occupation of the Deepwood, to which this was also granted. The Woodelves who lived among the trees had formed a bond with many of the Xholtic subraces, and peace reigned for a time.   But it came to pass that the humans greed surpassed what had been given to them. For they bred quickly and expanded to fit their higher population, in two centuries they had surpassed the lands given to them, and rapidly began moving southwards. This deeply offended the High Elves, who saw it as a breach if the agreement laid down by these men's forebears. The men, short-lived and simple as they were saw this as the Elves attempting to greedily hold on to lands they barely used, for their numbers were far from replenished after the war.   And so the tension rose and rose, more cities of humans established, now well South of the agreed upon line, indeed a great Empire was formed when a man known as Teuton lead a group of likeminded fellows deeper south still, until finally they settled on the edge of the Deepwood. From there over the next three hundred years the little Kingdom of Teutonica sprouted into a full blown Empire.   This was the final straw for the High Elves, and so another war was begun, but this time neither side could win. For while the Elven skill allowed them to cut humans down in droves, their numbers were now so many that the Elves knew there was no hope. As quickly as it had started, the war was over, leaving both sides to return and lick their wounds.   Time passed, and this new cycle went on. Every century or so the High Elves or a Human Nation would incite violence and bring war. Such has it been for close to a millennia now, and it has left either race hating the other. Most Elves bar those of the Meadow despise humans, seeing them as lowly creatures, simple and short-lived. While the humans think the Elves all arrogant and malicious in nature.   It is here we find ourselves, in a world split by turmoil between fighting races, all the while Greenskins brew in the Barrens to the south, beyond the Sand Elf pyramids .