The Great War

This tome is written in Torovian and appears to detail some of the later part of the War of Ashes. It is authored by Barliman Sutherland. The entries here appear to be different in age, making it seem like this record was written over decades.
It has now fallen to me to continue my orders work of chronicling the history of Torovia. At this point in the great war I do not know if Torovia will survive. My predecessors have covered the outbreak of the war, the civil war that pitted Torovian brothers against sisters when two of the pantheon came to blows. At first it seemed a small conflict, but when the outworlders began to arrive, and the conflict spread to the eastern kingdoms, Hraun, Golgolthyr, and even the kingdoms of elves and dwarves, it became clear that something more was happening.

The King Ramsis was the king of Torovia at the outset, the father of our current Queen Quintavia, was wise to make alliances, but even his wisdom could not see what was to come. When the demons and angels came, any hope of outside support from the Saeli quickly crumbled as they were put on the defensive. For some time in the south of Torovia held out against the onslaughts. King Ramsis was able to end the civil war without a devastating effect, but it left Torovia weak when the outworlders came. May the bones of those who forsaken their kingdom for their god rot on the gallows they were left in. But the first demon horde arrived on our southern border, and alongside our Saeli allies our armies fared well. The demon prince Asmodeus unleashed many of his most ravenous demons upon us, Fury, Terror, Horror. Our generals were able to defeat their foot soldiers in the field, but these more powerful beasts always seemed to evade death. But the tide was turned when Naath and Asmodeus took Gwintalatir, razing it to the ground. Our spies estimate that well over half of the Saeli on the Mortal Realm perished in the conflict, including most of their military might. It was said the green river turn red with the blood of the high elves. After that, the remaining elves in the sister city of Dalendra’thira surrendered to the demon Gluttony. From our reports it sounds like that even though many who remained there were not warriors, death would have been a better fate than the torment they have suffered over these years at the hands of the demons.

With the elves defeated and a fleet of demons cutting off our ability to support or receive support from the men, varl and dwarves of Hraun, King Ramsis marched a large force south to deal with Asmodeus, pushing his forces back, forcing him to retreat. However, it was then when the Army of Light set upon the north, begining to raze cities without mercy. The wrath of the goddess of love and light proved to be as brutal as it was thorough, leveling towns and cities, scattering our people to the winds. Princess Quintavia gathered as many as she could and brought them into the more defensible mountains, moving the throne to The Last Bastion, our most impregnable fortress. Our people poured into the numerous caves in the mountains, attempting to create refugee camps, while the princess worked to stave off advances of the Army of Light. Although the angels were able to traverse the mountains much more quickly, the elevation made ambushes much easier, and she saw some success in fending them off.

I was stationed with the kings forced, and even though we had success is pushing back Asmodeus’ forces, the countryside was rife with demons of all shapes and sizes running amok, and in the open fields of the south, it was indefensible. King Ramsis moved his large host back to the sea, to the capital, which was left with a skeleton force to defend it. It had been under siege by a contingent of the angel Excoria, under the command of the angels Bellis and Ananiel. We saw victory, destroying the angels and liberating the city. The king ordered the captured chosen warriors to be hung from the walls as a warning to any more angels who would seek to destroy the great nation of Torovia. But the king was old, he had been waging this war for nearly sixty years at this point, and lost all of his sons, leaving only his youngest daughter to continue the lineage. In the capital he caught a great illness brought upon from the thousands of corpses rotting in the streets and on the walls, and he passed. Word was sent to his daughter straight away, and the mage lords left the capital immediately to join her, under the young, newly appointed Magister Kass. Much of the soldiers, and some of the civilians, including myself, remained at the capital where the generals argued on what to do next. They split into three groups, one to head south to fight the new army Asmodeus had gathered, one to go north and help lift the sieges of what few settlements remained, and a third to join our new Queen at the Last Bastion, and fortify her position there.

I traveled north, which was lucky, as it was not long before we learned that Asmodeus’ army in the south outright annihilated our southbound army, and the army headed to fortify the Last Bastion was ambushed by demons, and scattered, before a large force of angels destroyed the demonic force and began hunting them. We had much more success in the north, liberating several settlements, but what came next was unexpected. A ceasefire was called as three armies marched on one another. Our general met with the Archangel Benedictus, and the demon prince, Azazel. I was not privy to what happened there, but I know what my eyes saw after. The general returned to us, immediately ordering us to break camp with all haste and to begin the journey to the Last Bastion. He would not tell anyone what had transpired at that meeting by the great lake, but as we departed, I witnessed something I never expected, the armies of Elysium and Hell marching alongside one another to a great fleet of ships, setting sail peacefully.

Winter was just setting in as we began our march east and it was slowed by the snow. At this point all of our army was war hardened, every person serving at this point had been born after the war had begun, myself included, and we had only known hardship, so we pushed on. Supplies were low and even though we were determined to persevere, we began to lose soldiers. We arrived at the foot of the mountains in a blizzard, no more than a few days' march to the Last Bastion when he arrived. The Archangel Rexos of Mercy, although his moniker should have been the merciless. I have never seen a being so adept at dealing death. I could barely make him out in the blizzard, but could see his crown of shining light, and that sword, as it hewed through soldier after soldier on a direct path to the general. The massacre only lasted maybe half of an hour, but the carnage this creature wrought was unlike anything I have ever seen. Hundreds perished in the short span, many more injured, left to die in the cold. I fled with a small group, many more like us scattered into the mountains. We wanted for days; lost, hungry, cold. Of the twenty we started with only six remained when we stumbled onto a patrol of Runidiri elves. The wood elves had taken to hiding away early on in the conflict, opting only to defend their sacred spirits rather than go on the offensive. However these elves, who had found us, had made an alliance with Queen Quintavia to protect one another. They took us to their strange stone temple, fed us, clothed us, and gave us news. The Last Bastion was under siege by the forces of Veritas and Judica, and there was no way to get us into the fortress. Apparently the siege was in its sixth year, the heavenly host had taken heavy casualties attempting to break the will of our kinsfolk. The Runidiri had been making sorties on their supply lines over the years, but had also lost many. Most of whom remained were not warriors, those of the Darkspore, Balancekeeper, or Treemender clans. The worse news was that another had tracked us here, the Angel of the Hunt, Venandi, who had become the right hand of Rexos from what the elves told us.

We were not here long before they came. A legion of the chosen through themselves at the tunnels of the temple, many dying to the biological weapon of the Darkspores or magic of the other clans druids. In the end the elves sealed off the entrance, however this was a mistake. The angels did the same, creating a divine lock on the entrances, trapping us here. The few of us, human and elf, settled in, but quickly our supplies began to run low, and the time locked in here began to lose meaning.

I do not know how long it has been since the ways were locked, but I have decided to stop eating. No doubt it has been years, and I am no longer the young man I was when I began this record for the chroniclers. Years of subsisting off bat blood and goodberries with only a few other husks of our former selves to speak to has driven many made. We have had to seal ourselves off from them as they became violent. The Darkspore clan members were unable to control their symbiotic fungi, and many of them have become more mushroom than elf. I can only hope that my nation has survived this conflict, although I have little hope, as if they did, surely they would have rescued us by now. My good friend and partner Bluebark and I have found a quiet place for us to pass into the next realm. If this text is found by any of my kin, let my last thoughts be known. Long live the Queen, long live Torovia.