Summary of Lore

The Tale of Myr is a somber legend told through the ages. It speaks of prosperity turned to ruin, of kingdoms brought low, and of a land forever scarred by tangible darkness. It is said that Myr was once a land of unparalleled beauty and wealth, where the four kingdoms — Varenthis, Mythrandir, Evalyr, and Feyrithil — flourished side by side in a fragile harmony. They may not have always agreed, but they understood and exhibited a unified cause; to provide for a better future. But all that ended with the coming of Malakar, a powerful mage whose ambition led to the Sundering and to the fall of the great realms.

The Rise of Malakar and the Nether Rift

Peace held a gentle grasp upon the land of Myr. Every Kingdom lived in their own sense of prosperity, enjoying the luxuries of their chosen golden-ages. Magic, sciences, and arts gripped those with auspicious minds, but not all had such innocent ambitions in mind. Malakar, born of a Mythrandirian noble house, was once a respected mage, a scholar of the arcane who dove into forbidden knowledge that most would dare not touch. No ancient scroll, dusty tome, or mysterious artifact could curb his voracious appetite in the pursuit of knowledge.

He rose above his peers in his studies, yet in his thirst for power, he began to study the Nether — a shadowy realm that many believed to be the origin of nightmares, forbidden by the Gods themselves. Malakar’s pursuit of this dark power led him down a path of inevitable, complete corruption, as he sought to truly understand what created the Nether, what it was capable of, and then his focus shifted into something more nefarious; how to possibly pierce the boundaries between the mortal land of Myr and the void-woven plane of the Nether.

With rituals older than the kingdoms themselves, Malakar created a rift, a tear in the fabric of reality, and drew upon the foul energies of the Nether to grant him powers beyond mortal comprehension that rivaled even the Gods. But the rift was unstable, its power too great and unable to be manipulated and controlled, and from it emerged vile creatures of the void: wraiths, shadow-beasts, distorted, horrific fiends, and nightmarish entities that answered to no mortal will. The Nether spilled forth its horrors, and Myr was soon consumed in a shroud of its impenetrable darkness, beginning an era that would inevitably be remembered as The Sundering.

The Fall of Varenthis

Once, Varenthis was the mightiest of the four kingdoms. It was known for its powerful army and its fortified capital city, and the stalwart resolution of its people. When the creatures of the Nether began to overrun the countryside, King Aldrenn of Varenthis rallied his people, marshaling every able-bodied soldier to defend their lands. The warriors of Varenthis fought valiantly against the oncoming hordes, but the creatures of the Nether were unlike anything they had faced before. They were immune to mortal weapons and seemed to fade into shadows, only to emerge elsewhere, wreaking havoc upon the citizens and soldier alike and sowing terror, destruction, and death in their wake.

In the end, Varenthis fell, not through sheer force but through despair and attrition. The people, fearful and broken, began to abandon their cities, fleeing into the wilderness. The capital city was besieged until, finally, it fell, leaving the kingdom of Varenthis a wasteland haunted by the remnants of the Nether.

The Descent of Mythrandir

Mythrandir was a forested land of scholars, magic, and lore, ruled by a council of sorcerers known as the Council of Mythrandir. They believed they could contain the rift through ancient wards and spells, so they gathered in the forest capitol to channel their collective power against the Nether forces. For a time, the enchantments held, and the creatures were kept at bay. The citizens gathered within the wards of the city, seeking refuge provided by their Council.

But Malakar, angered by their defiance, unleashed a spell of immense, devastating force that shattered the wards, rendering the magic of Mythrandir useless. One by one, the members of the Council were slain, their souls were devoured by the rift, and the libraries and arcane sanctums of Mythrandir were defiled and turned into dens of the Nether’s spawn. Those who survived fled to the mountains and the forests, their knowledge lost, their power shattered. But the Nether was not done; it unleashed a corruption that seeped into the very roots of the forest, twisting the trees, poisoning the rivers, and corrupting the fauna themselves. The creatures of Mythrandir were overtaken, transformed into twisted echoes of their former selves. Mythrandir, once a sanctuary and bastion of mastering the arcane, became a realm of wild magic and corrupted creatures.

The Scattering of Evalyr

Evalyr was a kingdom of artistry, music, and beauty, its people known for their craftsmanship and their reverence for life. The capital city was home to exquisite towers and halls, adorned with sculptures and murals that celebrated the light and warmth of the world. The markets of this bustling city were always brimming with movement. But when the Sundering began, Evalyr was one of the first to suffer. The dark creatures poured across the Kingdom's open, welcoming borders, and without a strong military or magical defense, the people of Evalyr were defenseless against the onslaught.

In desperation, the Evalyrian people scattered, fleeing in every direction, carrying only what they could on their backs. The capitol was abandoned, its once-proud spires left to decay and crumble. Evalyr became a ghostly land, its fields and towns left empty, overrun with vines, darkness, and decay.

The Shattering of Feyrithil

Feyrithil once stood as a beacon of community and prosperity, and as Myr fell into chaos, they did their best to hold true to their ways. The citizens remained unified even against the overwhelming forces of the Nether and the void-creations Malakar brought forth. The Triumvirate of Knights, Sir Veridian, Sir Emrys, and Sir Drystan, stood as a bulwark against the dark forces of the Nether, fighting with blade, spell, and wit, to protect their people. Despite their best efforts, the Knights, too, succumbed to the relentless carnage of the Nether, and their souls were devoured by the void itself.

The once quaint cobblestone streets of Feyrithil remain barren and empty, a roaming playpen to the creatures of the Nether. Those who survived fled, gathering with other survivors from the three other Kingdoms.

The Legacy of the Sundering

With the Sundering, the lands of Myr were plunged into an age of darkness, and the once-great kingdoms fell into ruin. The people who survived were scattered, forming wandering clans, hidden communities, and secretive societies. They lived in fear of the Nether’s creatures, who roamed freely across the shattered realms.

Legends say that the Nether rift still pulses, a wound in the heart of Myr, with the dark mage Malakar bound to it, both its creator and its prisoner. Some believe he has become one with the Nether, a shadowy figure haunting the ruined kingdoms. Others whisper that he is waiting, biding his time to unleash another wave of terror upon Myr.

Three decades have passed since Malakar tore open the rift to the Nether, forever altering the lands of Myr. Though the immediate chaos of the Sundering has subsided, the impact of that dark event still lingers. The four once-great kingdoms — Varenthis, Mythrandir, Evalyr, and Feyrithil — have been changed irrevocably, but out of the ashes, a new society has slowly emerged. Survivors have begun to rebuild, but the land remains a haunted shadow of what it once was, and the rift to the Nether, though contained, is still a blight on Myr’s heart.

This is the world thirty years after the Sundering—a fragile realm of hope and despair, where the people of Myr tread carefully on ground that still remembers the darkness.