By M. Harvey
Marglar; Lord Marglar Gannon the I of Xeriphania
"People are not born monsters... People become monsters."
The beginning and the story of Xeriphania;
South of Amruhdin lies the colossal continent of Carthos. South of Carthos the and is most uncharted. Great jungles and broad deserts span for miles and miles with few and far civilisations in between. Months of travelling will bring you too a great stone city, sat in the centre of an all-mighty desert. Built beneath the Valley of what is known as ‘Deaths Cloak’ lies the tribe of Xeriphania. The city is combined of sprawling structures such as temples, towers and citadels.
One of the eldest tribes known to the world its traditions and mythology still run true today.
The Xeriphanian people and primarily female. They are a warrior race and are expertly trained in survival due to there harsh living environment. Plagued by sandstorms and long stretches without trade, they are trained to survive and fight when making treks to the neighbouring towns and villages for food and trade or when defending there capitol from unwanted individuals.
These warrior women are taught to fight with expertly crafted bows and are lethal with these weapons on camel back as well as there us of Khopesh’s and Scythes as their bladed side arms.
The few men that are honoured to live among them, work as scribes, traders or workers, tending there farms and families. Every 100 years a boy will be born to the tribe. Not just any boy. This boy will be the son of a warrior and will be born with dark red eyes and a sign of a King to the Xeriphanian people. He becomes a Xeriphanian Lord. The Lords duty is to lead his people into greatness and ensure the survival of the tribe at all costs. When the lord passes, the greatest warrior leads the tribe until the next lord in conceived.
Marglar was born during a sandstorm. The omens where there from the start and the nurses said at his mothers bedside that a kings eyes should never glow.
It is thought his father was a great demon. A creature that lived between the two plains and existed in the void. The demon tricked his mother and she bore his son. Fears of Marglar began to surface when the noticed he passed magic abilities. No tribesmen could ever make fire from their palms or throw objects across the room by looking at them.
Scared, the Xerephanians stuck to there traditions and when Mangler turned ten, he vanished. Unbeknown to them his whereabouts they continued to live as they would without a lord, knowing full well at some point, he would return.
Marglar; Carthos, Ashfall and the Empire of Amruhdin;
Marglar had realised at a young age that he was special. That he had a gift and that it would be simply wasted and squandered living amongst the Xeriphanians. He knew he truly had to learn and study and perfect what he had in order to use it to his full advantage.
Leaving the tribe Marglar headed towards the city of Grossemyer (gros-em-ear). It was an old Orc strong hold that later flourished into a trading city. It's main council is still run by Orcs but it's magical roots as an Orc refuge run deep. Marglar was interested to meet an Orc shaman who went by the name Balag-tung. Famous for his work in the magic community on the voids of the other realms Marglar sought his council.
In there meetings together Marglar was told many stories of the voids and the rules bound by all races considering the dead and living. The more Balag spoke the more Marglar listened. The stories of demons and impure creatures living in a netherworld between the two. The theories of the dead walking the human plain and vice-versa began to stir in Marglars mind. According to Balag the two should never intertwine and anytime they did stirred fates worth than death for the parties involved.
One night Marglar was studying text in the graveyard of Grossemyer when a group of young soldiers began harassing him. Drunk while off duty they began to be boisterous and unruly pushing him about and making fun of him. Marglar bit his lip in frustration before one of the boys hit him across the face. In an instant, Marglar cast a seemingly harmless spell throwing the boy into the air. As the boys body flew a good distance, he landed on a spiked metal railing fencing off the cemetery. As the boys body twitched and blooded, silence befell the group as the looked at one and other and then at Marglar. Grabbing the boy and pinning him down they tied him up and bought him the elders of Grossemyer, swearing the boy was possessed by a demon or monster.
Things went from bad to worse for Marglar. The boy who died was the son of a Carthos councilman whose power could move any court on the continent. In fury and anger at the entire situation he wanted to make the young boy pay truly for his crimes.
Weeks had passed whilst Marglar sat silently in his prison. Stories tell that during his time away from society he was visited by his father in visions, saying to him 'man is a plague on this earth and should be truly eradicated. You are the son of true darkness. You must become the earths saviour.'
Eventually the great deadbolt was lifted from Marglars confinement and was bought to the Dreadhall to seek sentencing.
The trial was fixed from the start.
The council man had deemed the demon inside Marglar was unable to respond to an exorcism through conventional means and that the boy was truly lost. There last ruling was to end the chain that led to this boys possession, once and for all. Carthos culture believes the soul is in the head and on death, The mouth is left open for its release. Execution in Carthos consist restricting the souls escape by two methods. The first and most favourable is the Arakha. The convicted kneel on a plinth and are blind folded. A great weapon, crossed between a butchers cleaver and a great sword is wedged into a piece of wood at the hilt end. This lies horizontally in front of the victim. The convicted is then asked to bend down and place there open mouth over the blade and so there back and head are perfectly straight. The executioner will the strike there occiput with an ornate warhammer, severing the entire cranium from the jawline. It is then believed the soul cannot escape as there is no mouth to act as a vessel.
The other method is the sands of time. The convicted are taken out to a given part of the desert called the Throat. It's a deep valley, notorious for its unrelenting sandstorms and desolation. The convicted are ordered to all into the valley and are never seen again. The sandstorms are said to be so fierce that the sand begins to rip flesh from bone and fill you mouth and lungs entirely so the body effectively drowns in the sand. Excruciating and can last for days on end this is the death chosen for the truly damned. The soul is also said to remain trapped as the mouth is always full at the time of death.
In true punishment, Marglar witnessed Balag executed by the Arakha. When that was over and Marglar thought he had cried his last his mother stepped to the plinth, chained. The council man deemed that he had her recovered and was to execute her as her womb was cursed. As she bit the blade Marglar screamed.
Silence took over Marglar as he was taken to the Throat. The cries of his mother in his head and the bloodshed the Xeriphania would have under gone in order to not have given her up. They were a proud race and would have their land raised to the ground than give up one of their own.
The council man gave no final words as they left Marglar the walk in the valley. He approached Marglar silently, kneeling down to his level. As he looked him in the eyes he plunged a dagger into Marglars thigh. Marglar winced, only slightly before falling into the dunes and tumbling over the now stained sand and into the valley.
As already aware, Marglars fate was not sealed here. Perhaps it was his possible relation to the void or his will for revenge but Marglar crossed the great valley. The only person to survive and all be it a boy. Scarred, blooded and bruised Marglar collapsed out side the gates if the final city before the end of the continent, Oshima (oh-shi-mar). Another Orc-stronghold-turned-city, Oshima was the a great port town, taken by the humans and used for trade. The cities confined by a huge unscalable wall and is made up of huge towers that over look the deep sea. Marglar lay lifeless infront of the city gates before the guards picked him up and set him before the King. Marglar made light of his tale and asked for the Kings pardon. The King granted him safe passage around the city, offered him aid and set him to work in the library.
Several years passed and Marglars access to the library led him to a plethora of books on Magic, mages and the voids. Growing more and more fascinated each and every day, Marglar began to think of his next plans to leave the city.
One warm summers morning the King called for him. Marglar approached and asked the King why he sought his council. The King told Marglar that word had travelled of the boy who was possessed and that he had reason to believe that Marglar was that same child. Marglar stared cold and hard at the King as the he spoke his next words. The King uttered to Marglar that he didn't believe in the gods or any of that superstition and that Marglar was welcome in the city walls. The King also noted that Marglar may be safer not leaving the city as it was dangerous outside of the castle walls. That very same night, fear of what may be or what may become, Marglar snuck into the Kings chambers and drove a knife through his heart. Gathering his things, Marglar took the next ship from port and travelled to the flourishing continent of Ashfall.
Months passed of travelling and Marglar eventually found himself at the base of Frost Bite peak. After performing the pilgrimage he was invited inside to befall the oath and become a Mage. The Elders seeing his potential, Marglar had other plans. Years went passed and Marglar studied and was model student. Peace seemed obvious around the guild but things weren’t as they seemed. There were reports of nearby villagers at the base of the mounting disappearing. Homes set a blaze at random and people going missing seeking the path to pilgrimage. Beneath the veil of mystery was Marglar was plotting his own ‘breakthroughs’ in the world of magic. Cadaver after cadaver Marglar performing all types or Necromancy to test the abilities being able to enter the Void. The point between life and death was superfluous to Marglar. He wanted to find the middle. The space where evil lived. Where things to impure go. To where his father dwelled.
Marglar's laboratory was hidden away from the main guild in the basement of a small watchmans hunt. One fateful night Marglar was discovered by a fellow student, suspecting him of cheating on his exams. The the sound students horror he found the sight of Marglars nightmares. Before reaching the council and guild, Marglar caught up with the young student at which he proceeded to carry suite and throw him from the mountain top. Marglar disappeared that night. The hut was burnt down but the council found the charred remains of the monstrosities committed, as well as the almost unidentifiable remains of the young student who plummeted from the mountain top.
A council man from Carthos had recently arrived in Amruhdin. His diplomatic intent was discussing trade from the desert lands. He was making himself at home in his room in a lavish Tavern found central in the capital city of Lyridia. There was a knock on the door. The council man opened the door and a tall cloaked figure gestured to him. Awaiting this the council man followed the clad figure through tavern, across the streets to the Kings district. The figure gestured the council man to a small holding, hidden deep away in an alley. Confused the council followed but with no reason to distrust his companion. He entered into a dimly lit room and took a seat at the table in the centre of the small room. ‘You don’t remember me…’ The cloaked figure said. ‘Were you the boy from the docks? Or have we met at another council meeting?’ the man scoffed. ‘…and where are we?’ he continued, puzzled.
Silence. The cloaked figure removed his hood. ‘Tell me now if you remember me….’ The council man rolled his eyes and looked at the face of the cloaked man. He sat there smiling, humouring him until suddenly, like the rush of a waterfall it all hit him. He went cold. Sweating profusely and began shaking. ‘YOU! But how, wha- how can it be? We killed you. We left you for dead. I stopped you with my own bare hands….’ and before the sentence was finished Marglar had stabbed the council man in the very same spot as he had previously in the Valley. Screaming in agony, Marglar dragged him onto the table and began to conduct his first experiment with live pray.
It is said that what Marglar did was so twisted, even the most evil would think twice before doing it. It is said he killed the man, only to drag his ether back through the void and kill him again. over. And over. And over.
At this point, Marglar was the Kings most trusted advisor. After fleeing Ashfall, Marglar headed to Amruhdin. He arrived in Lyrida and began promptly making plans. The King at the time was Wilson Headstrong. A fair and just man, ruling his people with a solid but resolved fist. Noticing how revered he was, Marglar knew his best chances of becoming truly powerful where through that man. Faking an assassination by poisoning a banquet hall the King attended Marglar was able to ‘save his life’ in order to grant himself the trust and admiration of Wilson. As the years passed, there bond grew stronger before eventually granting Marglar, First Advisor
The Na Rhul, the downfall, the Great Chasm and the Void;
As the years further passed, Marglar become stronger. unquestionable and above all smarter. He knew Wilson better than all else and began to play him like a pawn against the other continents. He would act as a council and help dispose of any foreseen threat or advise on the Kings next moves. Shortly after becoming close with Wilson, Marglar was asked to take part in a Diplomatic mission to an unknown island in the south. It was said there lied a great tribe of powerful high elves and that the King wished to make a treaty with them should the continent go to war again.
Marglar arrived on the island and was shown around the temples and strongholds the elves had built. They had lived here peacefully for thousands of years keeping to themselves. The elves thought the treaty was a fantastic idea in order to create trade routes and set up peace in the lands. After Marglar met there Grand-Mage. Arrunhak, he had begun to make his own mind up. Sensing the sheer power the elves possessed Marglar feared if he were ever found out that they were a force to be reckoned with. Heading back to his Galley, Marglar sent a Raven to the King with fears of the elves cooperation in this and that they were plotting treason which was overheard. With trust, two ships of soldiers within a week. The islands inhabitants were massacred and Marglar burnt and tore down any structure left standing.
Shortly after this, news began to spread of several magic families, born of no magical blood like Marglar. Disturbed of the rumours of these people, Marglar began to stir hatred and fear, in and around the towns of these families to oust them from Amruhdin. Once signs of these six families felt like they had settled Marglar began his master plan. Years of travelling, plotting and scheming meant he could now put his true plan into effect.
One by one Marglar began strengthen his grip on the empire. Carthos and Ashfall were furious that the sole nation of High Elves had been wiped out for conjecture and here say with no real evidence of there supposed crimes. The King defended Marglar at this point, not question his decision but reinforcing it. Marglar began to use this argument between nations to form his true purpose. He began to further plot, scheme and also would now personally remove his opposition without losing the faith of Wilson. Marglar was cool and calculating. He had began to remove Carthos from the equation and only had truces with them concerning trade routes. A small war had erupted concerning Ashfalls Royal family which Marglar had planned and was playing his cards to his chest if he needed to escalate it to cause further distractions. He had also started a Civil War between the north and south in Amruhdin. He had pressed all the buttons to begin the fighting and new which ones to press to end it when he deemed ready.
At a great banquet one night. The King declared that the fate of Amruhdin rested on Marglars shoulders as the most trusted advisor. The King declared that night that as he had no son or daughter to name his heir, Marglar will take the Throne and rule with his steady hand.
Within a week the King was found dead in his chambers.
With no signs of foul play, Marglar was coronated and declared King-by-write of Amrudin. This title befalls chosen royalty with no direct bloodline to the descendant. The first few months the Kings people felt no need to worry over there new ruler but the kingdom slowly followed into darkness. Marglar began conquering small islands to the south and fuelling wars between Ashfall and Carthos. Fear struck the kingdom. Marglar assembled a court of Wizards and witches from all reaches of the world to follow suite and who believed as he did. To conquer this world and the next.
News of Marglars reign shrouded the world in fear but in a turn of events, the once exiled six families had built and army along with Arrundhak on his demolished nation. The next years that transpired were bloody. Marglar lost many of his Court Mages and generals to assassinations and assaults led by the Na Rhul. Stirring the Kingdom the north and south began to rise up against this new kings tyranny. This continued until Marglar was backed into a corner. His enemies closing in. Struggling to find a solution Marglar heard rumours that all the Six remained on Amruhdin waiting to assault his private fortress in the south.
Under the cover of darkness, Marglar and his best men fled to the island he had once devoured. Met under the cover of a snowy night Marglar crushed the entire nation leaving all he thought dead. He entangled a deadly battle of wits and magic in Arrundhuks court tower in which he threw Arrundhaks helpless body from the great tower. Smirking Marglar orders the structures burnt to cleanse the 'cursed' island. He returned, triumphant, to Amruhdin to claim his kingdom.
Months passed and the fighting had begun to simmer down. Marglar once again had control of his nation and began to make plans for his next step. One night during a great storm, his private fortress was assaulted. Thinking little of it being some small group of rouges and such, Marglar headed to the roof of his tower. As he approached to look down below he took sight of an all might battle of magic and power. The six had arrived to remove Marglar from the throne and cast the kingdom to a better age.
Marglar and his armies threw themselves into the fight.All night the battle raged, casualties befalling both sides but neither giving in. Finally, the six had broken through and Marglar was met by Arrundhak on the tower. During an almighty duel Marglar had struck Arrundhak to the throat and went for his final blow before Vaughn an Duke, of the Six, plunged his great silver blade into the back or Marglar. Falling to his knees Arrundhak went to cast a final spell to rid the world of Marglar for all eternity. As his hands met the ground Marglar uttered one final curse and slammed his fists to the floor. No one can explain the next part. Mages from far reaches of the world have tried but failed. An explosion of sheer magic and force tore a crater into the earth. Nothing but man made mountains lay around the great hole. Known to men know as the Chasm, and the size of its own country its depths lay a mystery. As theories go; some believe it to be a rip on the void uttered buy Marglars last curse. Others believe it to be a graveyard for the Six and there unstoppable magic.
The force of the event was so catastrophic that not only did it leave no human from that battle to ever be seen again but it also separated and shifted the entire continent of Amruhdin from Carthos, held tiger by a small peninsula of land. The crumbled remains of Marglars tower are all that's left.
The kingdom disbanded after Marglars reign and became a senate. As power shifted, the senate became an empire. The Emperor would then be elected and would make the thirteen of his twelve council men. This has stayed this way for a thousand years, not without its trails and tribulations, but has remained strong.
It is said that Marglar, Arrundhak and the six remain. Waiting to return to the earth. Trapped in the void between worlds where the impure exist. Waiting for the chosen to release them from there prison.
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