Shackling of the Timberlands

Military: War

Their gods were gone. In the gloom of the Black Exodus, the inhabitants of the Timberlands had lost their protectors. The blessed Tokaarii had vanished. And, it seems, it would not be the only blow to befall them.

And at the height of their confusion, a cold haze lay just on the horizon.

In the dead of night, the D̂eobl Brávted (Scarlet Throne) fell upon the Timberland Archpeninsula like a black shower.

Their crimson eyes lit with feverish ecstasy.

Back during the days of the Black Exodus, much of the Caatavili^{(Timberlands)} had fallen to the Tolb̂ Brávted^{(Scarlet Throne)}. The Ynellian had long deemed it their duty to spiritually subjugate us, the Dagomári, who owed much of their blood to the wicked false Gods.   In this Age of Lost Dreams, the Ynellian held the heart of the Timberlands in a great vise. They were a red serpent, mighty and old. For many centuries, they pressed upon us. Hungry. The weight of their long frame squeezing upon our very nature.   As part of their so-called 'rehabilitation,' the Húlino Caatavili had been broken and divided among the Bôngaidi and Hyassigáli. The Ynellian would have them abandon the ways of our forefathers. Forget the wisdom born of their temples. Scar their souls with terrible sorceries. All as they swallowed the Forgotten Dells whole.   The Daemons rebelled. But soon, too, so many people were taken, charred, and enslaved.   These Ynellian 'thrones' that took control of the Timberlands would come to be known as the Esrôlešian Imperium, the Chileînâ Commonwealth, and the Southern Dominion of Fairûz.