The Glorious History of Wyrda
In the earliest days of the world, Wyrda was not a land of harmony and hope. It was a realm of suffering and shadows. Dragons, ancient and terrible, ruled with an iron claw. They soared above the skies, their wings blotting out the sun. Their breath of fire and storm brought kingdoms to ash before they could rise. To the lesser races, they were not mere beasts but gods—unknowable, merciless, and utterly invincible.
The dragons’ power lay in their mastery of Primal Magic, raw, untamed, and older than the world itself. No mortal hand could wield it, nor could any stand before it. Through this magic, the dragons reshaped the world to their will, bending the very bones of the earth and the breath of the wind. They divided the lesser races, spreading fear and distrust like a plague.
For centuries, the races remained divided, weak, and subjugated. But then, from the darkest depths of despair, a man rose.
The First Emperor: The Slayer of Dragons
He was born a slave, his name lost to time and history. Raised in chains, he toiled in the shadow of the dragons, enduring hardship beyond measure. Yet his spirit never broke. He learned their secrets, studying them, watching them, and understanding the true source of their power. Where others saw despair, he saw opportunity.
In time, this man, who would become the First Emperor, rose against his masters. Through strength, cunning, and a heart filled with unyielding fury, he fought his way to freedom. His rebellion began with blood and fire, but it did not end there. He reached out to the divided peoples of Wyrda, calling them to his cause and binding them together with a vision of unity.
For the first time in history, the many races stood as one. Through shared knowledge and newfound trust, their scattered strength became a mighty tide. The First Emperor led them into battle not as subjects, but as brothers and sisters in arms. The might of the dragons was great, but they were not prepared for the storm that followed.
The War of Liberation
The war against the dragons raged for decades. Great cities were razed, forests burned, and mountains shattered beneath the fury of dragonfire. Yet the First Emperor stood unshaken. It is said that he struck down hundreds of dragons with his own hand, his blade forged from the heart of a fallen star and blessed by the World Tree itself.
But it was not steel alone that won the war. The Emperor did what no other mortal had ever done. He harnessed the Primal Magic. Through ancient rites and forgotten knowledge, he bent the wild magic to his will, turning the dragons’ greatest weapon against them.
In the final battle, high atop the peak of the World’s Spine, the First Emperor faced the mightiest of the dragon lords. These beasts were so vast that the mountains themselves trembled beneath their wings. It is said that the sky burned for three days and nights as their battle raged. When the dust finally settled, the dragons lay broken and bound.
The strongest among them were sealed away in prisons of magic and stone, their names stricken from history. The rest fled to the furthest corners of the world, hunted down and driven into hiding. Never again would they rule Wyrda.
The Dawn of a New Age
With the dragons defeated, the First Emperor forged a new world, a world of unity, knowledge, and strength. The races of Wyrda were no longer slaves to fear but proud citizens of an empire that spanned the continent. Cities rose where once there had been only ruins. Magic and innovation flourished, shared freely among the races.
The First Emperor became more than a man. He became a symbol of hope and strength, a living testament to the indomitable will of the mortal races. Statues were raised in his honor, and his deeds were sung in every hall and hearth.
His descendants ruled wisely, continuing his legacy and ensuring that Wyrda would never again fall to tyranny. The dragons, now but whispers in old tales, became a warning to future generations, a reminder of what happens when the world forgets to stand together.
Oath of the First Emperor’s Followers
“By the blood he shed, by the fires he endured, we stand united under his light. The dragons are gone, their power broken, and Wyrda shall never fall again. For the Emperor, for the Empire, for all the free peoples of this land!”