Od's Cleave

Of all the stories of history, none have garnered more gallant ballads than Od's Cleave. Early in the growth of civil populace, before the concept of eras had even been conjured, the savage lands of the Shale Hide were not as distant as they are now. In the beginning of Qerodil--and for three hundred years--all societies prospered equally, that is to say they were cooperative without the consideration of new era politics. Large folk built expansive cabins atop their hillsides, small folk made comfortable homes of the hovels that nature provided. The races of man and their likeness rested in places between those sizes. However, in time, populations among the westernmost coastline bolstered beyond that of their neighbors and their settlements began to reach the threshold of others. In this act territories were born, and borders were defended.

When civilization began to flourish, so did it crumble. Emerging settlements were swept up in a squall of conflict; for generations the ancestors of Qerodil clashed to purchase ground. The now civil nations of Xourn and Kupridop held strong for many years, but as the numbers of ferocious beastly tribes continued to swell a haze of desperation hung heavy in the air of every humble village. Spears and swords were no match against those that took what they desired, and so the likes of man turned to prayer. Long did they beg and sacrifice, and long did the deities deliberate on just action.

The scales of Dou became unbalanced, and so was his ire set alight. Fields were razed, and so was Ao'di's gaze drawn. Life had been needlessly taken, and so it is said that Od's axe was brought down to sever the battlefield. For weeks thunder roared while a downpour split the lines of battle. Historians say the lightning was so fierce that each bolt erupted the land. From the southern cusp to the Great Boreal the sides were separated further and further as a tide grew between them.  After fifty-two days of storms the earth bellowed as it shifted violently, tearing away the entire coastline to let its denizens settle amongst their seclusion.

This event--whether by natural coincidence or divine intervention--spurred the beginnings of organized society throughout the remainder of the continent.  None are certain specifically how far back the first era was, but the resulting consequences are universally regarded as a lesson from the gods to heed their teachings.