"With its ivory spires, Ansulf was a monument to peace and connection between the Finite Races. Even in the face of the Early Wraith War, those spires stood resolute against the onslaught. The connection of the Finite Races remained strong."
- Tapplar's Tellings, Volume I
With time, the Lordly Pantheon returned to the Palace of Artukos to raze it once and for all, to wipe out any remnant or memory of Artukos that remained in the Wraith Globe. However, the magic within the Binding Seal at the peak of the cathedral was too strong to shatter, even for Viabaas, and so it remained, with the three tomes encased inside. Ishmael, one of the mightiest paladins of Viabaas, remained behind to guard the tomes against anyone who might wish to take them, for the power within those blood-stained pages was too mighty for even the Patheon to hold. The rest of the palace was brought crashing down, with only the rocky crags of Mount Karar'at remaining behind. As it had done when it first pierced the darkness, the sides of the peak once more gushed with fresh water, and so the Finite Races began to build a great settlement at the base of the mountain.
This place would be called Ansulf, which translates to "Angel Spires" in the tongue of the Angels. Ansulf's pure white spires would tower above the flowing rivers of Karar'at and act as a symbol of peace, of the one who had saved the mortals from their slavery.
The eight remaining Finite Races formed the Nation of Obron during the city's construction, and so the first order of Mortals was formed under the shadow of Mount Karar'at. The leading committee of Obron, the Council of the Finite races, was composed of one of each of the Finite Races, totaling eight members. Sadly, many of their names were lost during the destruction of Ansulf, but their legacy lived on as the original providers of unity among the eight mortal peoples. Still strong after the defeat of Artukos, their common enemy, peace between the races was easily achieved, and so the creation of Ansulf would act as a testament to their collective life force.
Midway through the capitol's construction, the first winter of the world swept into the central forests and deserts of the Material Plane. Criyas, the Lord of winter, had finally found a domain and home for himself within the tundras of the Fey Lands, and so the four Lords and Ladies of the seasons coalesced and began the centennial cycle of the Wraith Globe. Furthermore, Akina, as the Lady of Doors, bound the seasons together like glue, completing the process and acting as the fifth season. However, this posed an inadvertent threat to the mortal nation of Obron dwelling beside Karar'at. Harsh weather like nothing the Wraith Globe had seen before was bearing down upon them, but their unity and drive strengthened them as a people. The Gemm'ar burrowed into the earth and into the mountainside, providing temporary sanctuary against the harsh winter winds. The Ge'nash became savage hunters, providing food and warm pelts to the rest of the community. In the end, through their slavery under Artukos, the Finite Races had become an effective team, each a facet in the beautiful starry jewel of mortality.
With time and prayer, the ice and snow of the first winter thawed, and the construction of Ansulf, the first city of the mortal races, was completed, and it had indeed been carved into a testimony to the unity of the Finite Races. The great bell of Ansulf tolled for the first time in its existence, perched high on the pinnacle of the city. Anima Frammen, the bell keeper of the first city, would become the first mortal guardian of the Finite Races. With his enormous war hammer, he would ring the bell in times of need to rally together the forces of the Wraith Globe. He described the bell to be his calling and destiny, and so he would remain there like a resolute gargoyle until the destruction of Ansulf long after. Some even say that he became a gargoyle himself, tied to the fate of the bell until the end of the world, his great hammer forever clenched in a brittle stone fist. The truth of bell keeper Frammen is now known only to me, for he is the incarnation of the great Wraith that kept the bell safe on the end of its monstrous polearm, high on the peak of Artukos' cathedral.
However, it was clear to all that the city of Ansulf was to be used as far more than just a monument. The Council of the Finite Races began preparation for a path that would fulfill what Viabaas had commanded them to do: to explore the reaches of the Wraith Globe and to make it their home. The Ansulf expeditions would act as a jump into the unknown, but the Council knew that a jump would have to be made sooner or later. A search was conducted to find the best warriors, hunters, trackers, and tinkerers suited for the journey, and in two months' time, a company of the most skilled was collected together. Provisions were readily packed and transportation was prepared. Mapping and cartography was the primary purpose of this initial expedition, and all of the Finite Races were determined to achieve it.
The Ansulf Expeditions
"The world shall be an expanse, a testament to the pantheon, a testament to my power. Do you not see? Are all of you truly so blind? Your eyes are open but your minds are shut. Not one of you realizes my power, my superiority! If you do not see it now, you shall see it in my eternal rule!"
- The Old One
And so the first expedition out from the first city of Ansulf took place, and many dangers were met yet overcome by the party. The desolation surrounding Mount Karar'at had receded after the death of the Wraith Lord, but the darkness still lingered in some places. One of the cartographers told of many large spiders, greater than anything he had ever seen before, crawling out of the depths of the earth. Another documented many trolls residing in the forests surrounding the lake produced by the rivers of Karar'at. The following is a full, stitched-together account of the first expedition far outside of the walls of Ansulf:
The expedition lasted a total of 2 months, and the party mostly traveled due southwest from Ansulf. The journey to the mountains was treacherous, the forests still holding Artuko's shadowy lifeforce, causing the vegetation to stagnate and wither. On their journey to the mountain range, the group encountered many trolls with strange regenerative properties, something that had not been previously observed by the Finite Races, or at least those who had not come out of Artukos' arcane laboratory. Once through the forest, the group still had no chance to rest their minds or wits. The mountains crumbled and shook constantly for reasons unknown, causing massive rockslides and geographic shifts, sometimes pushing them backward in their journey up to a day's travel. One of the cartographers met their demise during one of the rock slides, but the remaining survivors pushed onto the other side of the mountain range. Beyond was a beautiful landscape laid out before them: a collection of volcanic land, lush forests and glades, and a massive body of water to the south. The convoy's provisions were running low for the return journey, and so they chose to explore the dense forests and glade that lay in the approximate center of this beautiful valley. The shadows lengthened and the darkness deepened as they pushed deeper into the foliage, but the air was becoming thick and saturated with water vapor. They came across a strange, black gate, one that lay in the earth and was bound by some form of great lock. Unsettled by the haunting atmosphere of this place, the group did not remain long and instead turned tail, returning the way they had come.
The charting of the lands surrounding Ansulf was completed, this journey was hailed as a success, and the surviving members of the expedition group were treated as heroes of the Finite Races. Much merrymaking was had on their return, and the unity of the Finite Races once again shined like a beacon in the sky.
The next expedition had various purposes, whether it would be to map out areas, collect samples, or survey potential locations for new settlements and outposts. In this time of expansion, many small trading outposts were created, whether by independent parties or by the nation of Obron. The geographical growth of the Finite Races was rapid during the early years, and expeditions were a monthly routine within Ansulf. The competition for joining expeditions grew, and those who were skilled or lucky enough to take part were hailed as great leaders of the mortal peoples. This ultimately became the legacy of Ansulf, the First City: exploration, innovation, and fame. The unity, collaboration, and creativity of the Finite Races were central to Ansulf, and it began to expand outwards and upwards, snaking its way up the base of Mount Karar'at.
Surprisingly, few wished to find settlements distant from the shining spires of Ansulf. Some believed it to be caused by unity, but I believe that it was something more sinister: a lingering bond to Artukos and their previous home within the mountain. Despite this inclination, with time the Council of the Finite Races would begin to make plans for a sister settlement to Ansulf, a large port town along the large lake at the foot of Mount Karar'at. With this, the council hoped to send a seafaring expedition down the rivers, away from the mountain and the safety of Ansulf. However, the Haerus member of the council, a fair-skinned Elven man, believed purely in the great spectacle of Ansulf alone, his indignation causing the plans for the port town to slow to a crawl.
The Early Wraith War
"The Olümias are a race of the Fegnaór in any case, and therefore can not be trusted... They are devious and deceptive. This fact sheds some light on the nature of the dark nation, Necrotus..."
- Radrias Farstride, A Grand Mage of Algos
Unknown to those living in Ansulf, the forces of the Fegnaór were keeping a watchful eye on the Finite Races, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The legionnaires of Artukos fully knew that they had no chance of defeating the Lordly Pantheon without the help of their late master, and so they decided to target weaker prey.
In their brooding, the five Fegnaór had each come to inhabit one of the eighteen, twinging and tainting the plane with their influence.
The Fegnaór of lust, Lorințus, came to reside in The Abyss, the plane of gruesome chaos. It is said that during the rotations between the fall of Artukos and the Early Wraith War, Lorințus learned to take the form of a perfect mate and to tempt anyone of the finite races, destroying the tempted at their most vulnerable moment. A legion of Vítsodéns followed Lorințus in its massive fortress of twisted stone and metal.
The Fegnaór of greed, Lăcomix, settled in Gehenna, the plane of suspicion. Lăcomix's fortress was formed on a floating island levitating above the highest layer of Gehenna. The furnishings of this lair were the richest to ever be seen by human eyes, but it was all a facade for the dark nature of the place.
The Fegnaór of wrath, Aânira, came to reside in Pandemonium, the plane of madness. Among the howling winds of pandemonium, an enormous crimson hive-like mountain towers rose as Aânira dominated the plane. The constant wrathful screams of Aânira could be heard throughout the peak of Pandemonium.
The Fegnaór of envy, Invido, settled in Acheron, the plane of war. The most powerful armies of the past came under Invido's command, and the rooms of his fortress learned to constantly change from one gruesome battlefield to another, symbolizing the slaughter that he enjoyed so much.
The Fegnaór of pride, Mândri, came to reside in Hades, the plane of gloom. The leeches of hades form the entirety of this legionnaire's fortress, a crawling chaos that sweeps over the land and drains all color and hope from the surrounding acres.
With the Ansulf Expeditions came a recession of the legion's infernal spies and scouts, but their forces were only growing. Soon enough, when winter was nearly upon Ansulf, the Legions of Artukos struck swiftly and without mercy.
The city was sieged by the unending wave of terrible foes, and the inhabitants of Ansulf were desperately trapped between the desolation of winter and the wrath of the Fegnaór. The Committee of the Finite Races called a meeting and cried out to the Lordly Pantheon for deliverance from this hopeless situation, but there was no answer. In desperation, all of the militaries of The Finite Races were thrown at the evil hoard. All of these brave souls were slaughtered, but they were not yet dead. Their corpses would become tainted by the Fagnaór‘s dark desires and ambitions, which would lead to the creation of a new Finite Race...
The wraith forces battered themselves relentlessly against the battlements of the city, the bell of Ansulf ringing repeatedly and ominously in the distance. With the advantage of the city, the forces of evil were kept at bay, but their might was great. The walls of the city and the will of the people within would not hold out forever. Ansulf was brutally sieged for the next seven weeks until Viabaas finally answered. By this time, the city and its peoples were a walking corpse, just waiting for their inevitable doom before the hands of Artukos' forces, but Viabaas would not allow this fate to unfold. Seven weeks after the initial onslaught, the front gate of Ansulf would finally be battered down by the legion. Sweeping into the city, the front of mortal resistance was slowly pushed back until the inhabitants of there led into the caves, a hole in which they would be slaughtered and left to the rats. The only part of the city that was never overtaken by the Wraith and Spectre legions was the bell tower of the city, for Anima the bell keeper refused to let the great toll of the city be silenced. The toll of the bell continued until the very moment that the Lord of Angels strode into the fray.
The Finite Races, and even I, were not completely certain what took Viabaas so long to reply to the mortals' pleas for help, but he came with all his angelic fury nonetheless. He came with Daemor, the Wraith Slayer, the great glaive that pierced Artukos, the Wraith Lord, and slaughtered the evil forces singlehandedly. Only the Fegnaór and a few of the other lower Wraiths and Spectres survived this onslaught and managed to crawl their way back into the darkest planes beyond the reaches of the Phase Lands. There Viabaas launched Daemor into the sapphire midday sky, where it transformed into a beautiful multicolored bird, a prismatic wave of Lordly beauty. He announced that his trusted weapon would forevermore act as a barrier surrounding the Material Plane, through which no Wraith or Spectre could ever pass. Viabaas saw this sacrifice as a worthy one, for he respected the pursuits of the mortal peoples and what they had built up for themselves since they were freed from the evil of Artukos. And so the exile of the Legion of Artukos began, and the Finite Races were allowed to explore the reaches of the Material Plane and advance their knowledge as a people freely.
However, there would be an aftermath to this war, one that not even the Lords and Ladies of the Pantheon would expect. Out of the countless who fell during the charge against the Wraith legions, one would rise from the mass grave. This sinkhole in the earth filled to the brim with bodies, known as Kleul Olüm, would act as the nursing ground of a new Finite Races, a people who would be shunned for many an age. One warrior rose from the pile, a young beautiful woman, now tainted by the visage of the Fegnaór. This woman, known as the Olüm, was the first of the Olümias, the Tieflings. Tinged with the blood and slaughter of the Wraith legionnaires, the Tieflings possessed a less than savory appearance: a pair of horns sprouting out of the top of their head and a long, flexible tail sprouting out of their tailbone. The Olüm climbed from their birthplace, but they would not be welcomed into the world. By many within Ansulf, the Olümias were seen as a blight of the Wraiths and Spectres, and so they were shunned from the first city. However, the husband of the Olüm remained stalwart and chose to be exiled with his wife, and so the line of Tieflings endured, separate from yet parallel to the development of the nation of Obron.
The Recovery of Artukos' Trinkets
"This megalith shall ever be engraved into your minds, for you are the Art, and the Art is you. The Art is above and the Art is below, for it is that which has caused the miracles of the Two to become One.
The Art is that which above has planned before its fall below. That which created the Art is below and like to that which is above.
The power of the Art is that which can never be understood. The stars tremble and the earth shifts at its very presence, the beast lies down dead within its gaze.
The Art must be kept safe, for the power to shatter mountains, dry oceans, and move the stars themselves is far too great for the likes of-..."
- An Excerpt from the Emerald Tablet
With expeditions from Ansulf stretching further and further from the center of the world, it was inevitable that something left behind by the Wraith Lord would eventually stumble its way into the hands of his mortal slaves. Ishmael, the great guardian left by Viabaas to watch over the Binding Seal, was reaching the end of his life. His shield fell, and death finally embraced his worn hands, and so the three tomes of Artukos were left unguarded. The second of the linked life force caused the barrier to drop, only for those living in Ansulf to fall for the temptation, retrieving those long-neglected artifacts.
From the rubble of the monument to Artukos’ the Creator’s Claw clutched three ancient tomes, untouched by the ravages of time. In these pages, Artukos had documented everything he had learned, and so they held a sliver of the Wraith Lord’s power of creation. However, the rituals required to activate the tomes’ powers were utterly unknown to the Finite Races, and so they remained locked in a vault deep within the confines of the first city.
Each of these artifacts was a notebook detailing a different fundamental domain of the world: of time, of the arcane, of the physical. Along with the power of creation, these books had the power to alter their respective domain. The three tomes of Artukos are as follows:
The Tome of Prospects had the power over the domain of time and timelines, having the ability to alter the flow of time or rewrite timelines altogether. Use of this tome required a ritual that required mass amounts of bloodstone, a mineral that could only be found deep within the bowels of Mount Karar’at in that day and age. The pages of this notebook outlined the flow of time, Artukos’ study of parallel timelines, and the creation of the great world clock that had become known as Mechanus.
The Tome of Esoterica had the power over the domain of magic, something that had not yet fully been discovered by the Finite Races, for the great laboratory underneath had not been revealed. This tome had the ability to manipulate the very magic within an individual or a group of individuals, potentially granting them spellcasting abilities or stripping those abilities from them. Furthermore, the Tome of Esoterica can be used to make extremely powerful magical artifacts by using its inherent abilities, the knowledge within its pages, or both.
The Tome of Alchemy had the power over the domain of alchemy: the states of the physical world and the changes or reactions they undergo. Housed within were notes regarding the nature of Artukos' creation, the nature of Limbo's constant chaos, and all that the Wraith Lord knew about the Far Realm and the consequent transitions between the two realms. The Tome of Alchemy, with the use of a legendary Creator Stone, a divination device specifically created by Artukos. It is not even known if a Creator's Stone still exists, much less is compatible with the tome, but if it were, then the Tome of Alchemy would hold immense power of creation and transformation, only trumped by Artukos' abilities. Without such a powerful alchemical focus, the book is still capable of creating and transforming select matter with various rituals, but these processes are complex, time-consuming, and prone to backfiring.
These three trinkets of the Wraith Lord would raise more questions among the Finite Races than answers. This is the time in which the ancient Order of the Art began to form with the sole focus of understanding the books and what was documented within. Written in the tongue of the Pantheon, the three tomes began to slowly be deciphered by the most learned scholars, until finally a general understanding of all three volumes and the knowledge within was reached. At this time, the Order began to form in the dark yet scholarly places of Ansulf, and one individual emerged as their leader. Their name is unknown, but they were the first innovators of an idea that would come to change the trajectory of the Wraith Globe and the surrounding realms for all eternity: Arcane Alchemy. The combination of alchemy and magic was a dangerous proposition, one that was never intended by Artukos when he created the Wraith Globe. Through an elaborate heist involving the most skilled mortal thieves and tricksters, the Tome of Esoterica and the Tome of Alchemy would be stolen from the vaults of Ansulf. They would not be found again by those outside of the Order until the sixth age, which would eventually lead to the dreaded Great Wish.
The heist of the tomes from Ansulf's vaults within the stone of Mount Karar'at was something that took years to plan and weeks to pull off. By that time, the underground influence of the Order of the Art was significant, significant enough to draw in expert criminals looking for a profit. In the end, their greed would fuel another prophet, a prophet and herald of the catalyst for the end of the world. But, in the end, it is my fault nonetheless, and I will carry that mistake as a scar for all eternity.
The Creation of the Deck of Many Things
"The Deck of Many Things is both the most terrifying and fascinating magical relic of the Wraith Globe. It has insane potential, both helpful and harmful. In my personal opinion, the Deck of Many Things is a temptation to be avoided."
- Garu Ko, High Mage
Among the Lordly Pantheon, a calamity was occurring. Khraura, the Lower Lord of Chaos, had twisted the resolve of Marba, the Angel’s Bow. In doing so, he took The Gate of the Creation for his own devices. From this, Schimbaru became the outer plane of change, a starlit citadel of forever-shifting corridors and violet twilight. From that sanctuary, tucked away on the edge of the Wraith Globe, Khraura would begin to enact his master scheme. Forged from the starlight of chaos, change, and chance, one by one Khraura created an awful deck of cards, one that held immense energy, a power that could be harnessed by anyone. This was the birth of the Deck of Many Things, an artifact with terrible potential. A single deck consisted of 13 playing cards, all harbingers of destruction. If a card were chosen at random from the deck, the effects of that given card, whether greatly positive or greatly negative, would take place. It is only fitting that the Lord of Chaos would create chaos incarnate.
The Lord of Chaos began his masterpiece with The Fates card, an object much akin to the Tome of Prospects. He carried on by designing the Throne, Rogue, Knight, Void, Vision, Talons, and Favor cards, along with countless others, aiming to create hundreds, if not thousands, of decks, a collection of magic capable of devastating the entire Wraith Globe with utter chaos and confusion. At the time, not much was known about Khraura's motivation to do this, for there was peace and prosperity throughout the world. However, Khraura knew in his very soul that he must do what he could for the wrongs that were had against him.
Khraura wished to distribute the many magical cards to the Finite Races, giving them enough power to rebel against even the Lords and Ladies of the Pantheon if they wished. After the smoke cleared, The Lord of Chaos would stride over the corpses of both the FInite Races and the Pantheon, picking off stragglers and ultimately naming himself the new ruler of the Wraith Globe, the second in line after Artukos.
With time, the grand tower in which Khraura designed the Deck of Many Things, the Cathedral of Schimbaru, would become a haven of all sorts of forbidden knowledge. As a succession to Artukos' studies of the fundamental rules of the world, he would create a journal documenting his studies into the spacial natures of the Wraith Globe, and so the Tome of Expanse would be born. The non-euclidian and mind-bending nature of the Cathedral of Schimbaru would act as the first testament to this tome's innate powers. Star charts from timelines that never occurred, all knowledge already learned and fated to be learned, and even the alleged Creator Stone would wind up in Schimbaru at one moment or another, but this sanctuary of chaos and secrecy would soon be cracked like a glass sphere. Even with his ability to cloud his intentions in chaos, the goals of Khraura would not remain hidden from the Lordly Pantheon forever. In time, his plot would be found out by Viabaas, and there would be great consequences for the insurrection of the Lord of Chaos.
A number of the Pantheon stormed into Schimbaru by force, blocking all escape for the Lord of Chaos. Like a trapped rat about to drown, Khraura would take any opportunity to escape, no matter how dangerous. In the end, he would slip away from sight, past the Gate of The Creation, and into the Far Realm, a world where his fate would be uncertain. Now that I say it, it's truly ironic: the Lord of Chaos facing a fate of chaos. It is truly fitting. Unwilling to follow Khraura into a place so similar to his domain, the other lords tore Schimbaru to pieces, burning any cards that they happened to find. However, with the last of his strength, Khraura had both hidden and dispersed one last Deck of Many Things, just in case a member of the Finite Races, much like himself, aimed to assemble the cards and wreak the ultimate havoc on the world. Ultimately, there would be one who would do such a thing. They would be an intertwined soul much like Khraura, and they too would stand for chaos rather than order.
Khraura would remain there in the Far Realm for more than an age, regaining his true, original lifeforce due to the nature of his new abode. However, the second part of his soul would not be appeased. Not satisfied with how history had unfolded, it would have nothing less than the vengeance it deserved, and so it would slowly worm its way back into control wishing for a summoning ritual from those who obeyed him so many rotations ago.
The Collapse of Obron
"As Elwin fell, we all fell. Obron is no more. Our unity is no more. I'm sorry, but this will be the last time I speak in public. I admit, later today I will be with Viabaas and the rest of the Lordly Pantheon. Good day."
- Son of Elwin, Elven Council Member of Obron
After so many years of freedom, the unity of the Finite Races was wearing thin. Collaboration was turning to disagreement, disagreement to uprising, and uprising to rebellion. In the end, the unrest through the continent of the Material Plane culminated in one brutal act: the Rebellion of Able. The second generation of the Council of the Finite Races had been recently elected, and the original council members had been bid farewell in an elaborate ceremony on the shores of the lake of Karar'at, but something was not right. Elwin, the newly-elected Elven member of the Council of the Finite Races, was suddenly ambushed along with his escort in the forests outside of the suburbs of Ansulf. There were no survivors. This attack caused a political uproar throughout all of Ucrua, as it marked the first instance of political assassination among the Finite Races. Elwin Harius had been the most controversial of the newly elected council members, but politically-motivated murder was unheard of until now. The revolution-driven unity of the mortal races had finally shattered. With a shift in power coinciding with this hateful act, chaos ensued, and there was revolt in every corner of Ansulf. After a few short weeks of violent turmoil, it was clear that the internal conflict was only escalating with time. The remaining members of the Council of the Finite Races were promptly evacuated from Ansulf, and a sudden surge of hurried escape ensued. Ultimately, Ansulf fell to the flames of its own people.
However, the escape of the council from the carnage was not yet guaranteed. The rebellion against the second generation of the council had grown since their opening act, and the council, along with 200 professional soldiers, was completely surrounded by a blockade of radical rebels. Against all odds, the council survived in its entirety along with one soldier: Orion Tyrell, the Grand Brigadier of Obron. The stretches of Obron quickly followed suit as their leading council went underground, and so the first nation of mortals fell to revolution.
From the ashes of Obron rose four fledging nations, each an evil in their own right.
First was the nation of Ban-Rock-Buren, the Ga'nesh providence of warmongers and warlords. There, the powerful preyed on the weak, the powerful remained powerful, and violence was the shortest path to any goal. They came to inhabit the harsh desert and plateau lands to the north of Mount Karar'at, and at the base of Mount Karar'at they would come to build their great Emerald Champion, a monument to tyranny besides the remains of the late Ansulf.
Second was the nation of Algos, the providence of coin and corruption. Born from convolution that some believed would prevent a second revolution, Algos relied on the power of hierarchy and economy to enforce power and policy. They came to inhabit the swampy and forested lands south of Mount Karar'at, and would come to rule over the most land of the four infant nations.
Next was the nation of Ucrua, the providence of industry and enabling. Through the innovative minds of the Gemm'ar and the Logius, Ucrua quickly became the fuel for the engine of war on both sides of the impending conflict. They came to inhabit the coastal plains and beaches east of Mount Karar'at.
Last was the nation of Lorkay, the providence of pacifism and indecision. The many refugees from Obron that belong to none of the other newly-born nations ended up here, under the Great tent of Lorkay. A nation devoted to pacificism, Lorkay would refuse to act against the atrocities bound to occur, and so they would be the first of the four to fall. They would come to inhabit the temperate and varied terrain west of Mount Karar'at.
Where unity had once persisted, there was now only strife among the Finite Races. Ban-Rock-Buren was the violent, Algos was the deceptive, Ucrua was the abettor, and Lorkay was the silent. All were broken, just as Artukos had been. War almost immediately broke out between Ban-Rock-Buren and Algos, as they felt that the other threatened their own power. Ucrua encouraged this conflict, and Lorkay stood back from it. This is the destiny of the Finite Races.
The Lords' Hammerblow
"The Finite Races no longer have that hope that I saw so long ago. It mortifies me to see how closely they have fallen to the one who formed them. As I regretfully must repeat, even those who are closest to each other must sometimes show compassion by letting the other go. I know what I must do, and I know that I must not hesitate. If they live to see another sunrise on this cursed globe, I pray that they will have learned their faults."
- Viabaas, the High Lord of Angels
The fall of the Finite Races was met by the Lordly Pantheon with a mix of sadness and disgust. Viabaas, above all of his equals, felt great remorse for the Finite Races and the nature they had been cursed with, for they would forever have a piece of Artukos and the billowings of the void within them. He asked the other Lords and Ladies to stay silent and not take action until he had come to a decision: to destroy or to nurture. Viabaas even considered attempting to create his own creation with the souls inside the void, but he dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared within his mind. Some even say that for many rotations Viabaas retreated into his own mind to think, losing all connections with the Wraith Globe and the Lordly Pantheon. If that is the case, then when Viabaas awoke he had finally come to a decision, one that would spell out much change for the Wraith Globe's current path through time.
With so much war and strife, so much pain and torment, many of the Finite Races were suffering. The Half-Orc mongrels of Ban-Rock-Buren were being forced to fit in the gladiatorial pits of the Emerald Champion, The commoners of Algos were unwittingly being crushed under the tyranny of their overlords, and the many hoping to find solace were slowly becoming neglected as the economy of the Great Tent crumbled slowly. To some, the acts of Viabaas that followed would be seen as mercy instead of cruelty, and they might have been right. Unwittingly, a new enemy would emerge, and unity had the potential of shining through once more, but only time would tell.
From the Peak of Mount Karar'at, the beginning of creation, the Lord of Angels looks down on the desolate no man's land surrounding the mountain. The silvery tears of the Lord flowed freely in those moments, for his conflicted mind had just enough strength and resolve to carry out what he knew to be necessary. He raised his tightly clenched fist and with a loud pained cry slammed it deep into the earth, further down than the deepest roots of the mountain. A shining brilliance erupted from the fissure, letting out a resounding thundercrack that would echo across the borders of the outer planes. The entire Material Plane shook on its foundations as if it were a fragile plate balanced on the tip of Viabaas' finger, ready to break at the slightest twitch. Cracks in the earth spread from the center of the world branching downwards and outwards as the massive continent that the mortal races had learned to call home cracked at its seams, dividing one into many. From this hammerblow the central continent of the Material Plane was divided into eight: one central land mass and seven pieces of debris from the mainland.
This act of the Pantheon would amplify the chaos of the conflict between the mortals and cause more strife within the splinter islands of the world. Before this time, the Fintie Races had not yet begun to explore the seemingly endless expanse of ocean surrounding the continent of the material plane. In the boundary between the 18 outer planes and the Material Plane laid the Phase Lands, the transition between the plane of the ethereal and the physical. In that place lay many ethereal aberrations, half spectral and half physical. The inhabitants of those land masses that were split from the main continent quickly fell to anarchy as they realized that they were no longer tied to the four nations of the Finite Races. However, with time the influence of the Phase Lands would reveal itself as a greater threat to those involuntary exiles.
From the conflict of the edge of the known world would later come a great line of mortal rulers, a line that would fall to earth-shaking tyranny by the time it was ended. This lineage would be destined to uncover the greatest mortal temptation, one that would be fought over violently: age immortality.
With Viabaas' seeming act of mercy upon the Finite Races, the age in which the Pantheon walked on the Material Plane ended abruptly as controversy grew among the Lords and Ladies of the Wraith Globe. From this moment onward, much of the Pantheon would observe the Finite Races from a distance or in secret rather than interact with them directly. There would come to be many exceptions to this first recession, but the Pantheon had reached a consensus, one that Viabaas still refused to believe: that the souls of the Finite races had been tainted by Artukos' hunger for power when he had formed their bodies.
In this time of great confusion, a new being would join the Pantheon, remaining unknown to many Lords and Ladies who were preoccupied with more urgent concerns. Only Akina knew this Lord’s real name, but all others would come to know him as The Headless, the High Lord of Death. Before The Headless’ arrival, Viabaas personally guided the souls of the dead to their fated destination, but with his abrupt hermitage another would have to fill the role, and The Headless seemingly came to the Wraith Globe for this exact purpose.
The origin of The Headless is dubious at best, but many believe that he originated from either the Far Realm or a place beyond. Clad in a ragged grey cloak decorated with golden chains, the Lord of Death has no head save for a large arcane flame, a swirling of umbral purples and sapphire blues. His body seems human, but is sickly and decaying, the neck of his body severed cleanly. In the years following the Lords’ Hammerblow, Akina would be one of the only members of the Pantheon actively communicating with The Headless. At the time, it was uncertain exactly what the connection between Akina and this new arrival to the Wraith Globe was, but that secret would be revealed in time, and a door of understanding would be opened in my own mind.
