Dia duit, fellow travelers in the Namir. I bid you welcome to
this our home. I am Trystan, a man of little fame and less fortune, who has
lived in this world since it's creation, riding the coat tails of far
greater people than I to a position of some minor importance. I am the official bard
of The Dominion, greatest of alliances and the true power of Narmir.
It is my pleasure and my job to relate to you the history of this mighty
force and through it, the history of our world.

    As many know, the universe is a vast and chaotic place. Daily worlds are
born and worlds are destroyed. On one day, deep within the universe the god
Zeus created a world, which he hoped would one day surpass all other worlds in
glory.
Because he knew that the strongest metal is made not from one type of metal,
but from many, he populated the world with 4 races, the dwarves, elves, humans
and ogres. Each was gifted with certain strengths and each with weaknesses,
except the humans, who would act as the unifying force having neither strengths nor
weaknesses.
    But, while he was creating these people, his fellow gods espied his
work and grew jealous. They banded together and sought to destroy Zeus and
his creation. Though they rent the heavens with their struggle, still they were
unable to defeat the mighty god, but neither was Zeus able to defeat them.
Seeing that the battle could easily annihilate his fledgling world, Zeus
chose instead to use his last power to disperse all the gods, forcing them to the
far corners of the universe to regain their power. But this action cost Zeus as
well, for no longer was he able to nurture his work and instead it would be
forced to grow on it's own.

    Upon the face of the earth, the races of Zeus watched his titantic
battle with alarm, they knew that if he failed, they were doomed to
destruction.
The world was wracked by natural disasters, forcing the people to hide and
flee before the massive power of nature gone awry. The skies were lit by
brilliant colors for weeks, as the battle raged overhead. When at last it was over,
the bedraggled survivors gathered upon the greatest of plains, staring into the
sky, knowing that their progenitor and protector had sacrificed himself for them.
They then made a pact, The Pact of Vengeance Eternal, that when next Zeus'
brethen came to finish what they started, they would stand powerful, to aid
their god and destroy his faithless brothers and sisters.
    And so the races went their separate ways, to prepare for that final
armageddon. The humans traveled a little west, to the foothills of the great
mountain range, there to build their home and nation. The dwarves continued
past the humans, entering the mountains and claiming a gigantic cavern. The ogres
left to the south, creating a city deep within the sands of the desert. The
elves were the only race to split. Some stayed on that plain, to build a city from
which they would study the skies and know of the return of the gods. Others
went to the great forests of the west, creating buildings out of the very trees.
And still others, followed the dwarves, creating cities on top of the mountains
that the dwarves mined.
    And so centuries passed, until none of even the long lived elves remained
who had witnessed their birth. The races grew and prospered, the dwarves
becoming master craftsmen, the ogres, fierce and hardy warriors, the elves which
stayed on the plains became seers and magic users, those that entered the woods, were
known for their woodscraft and far ranging scouts, those in the mountains,
for their sneaky and clever ways and the humans for being jack of all trades,
yet master of none.
    Though on the surface everything looked as if it was going smoothly,
underneath tensions were brewing. In the desert sands the ogres were growing
restless. As time had passed, the smartest of them had formed an elite power
group, denying the lower classes the benefits of which they partook. In a
fit of rage over the beheading of a well loved warrior, who was said to be
treasonous to all of ogrekind, the peasants and warriors rose up, slaughtering their
rulers and forcing them into flight. The ogres then made a new government, based on the
principle of might makes right, taking their already formidable fighting
abilities and honing them even sharper. Those that escaped fled to hills
lying west of the desert, there regrouping and starting a new city. While they
remained tough warriors, they also rewarded intelligence, becoming over the
years a separate race altogether, the race known as orcs.
    In the mountains, the dwarven people were becoming angry at their elven
neighbors. The mountain elves, as they had become known as, were constantly
stealing and cheating the dwarves out of their hard forged weapons and
armor.
Finally, one particularly good thief stole the very crown of the dwarven
kings, and the dwarven army marched. The elves, though good fighters, were no match
for the superior fighters and war machines of the dwarves and were forced to
flee their city, taking refuge in the various valleys and passes and the
mountains. They sent messengers to their brother elves in the plains and
forests, but no answer and no aid ever came. And so, being slowly exterminated, they
knew that they had to find someplace safe from the dwarves. In a daring mass
migration, they snuck past the great dwarven capital and fled even deeper
into the roots of the mountains. Their pursuers were no longer able to come at
them in massive waves, instead being forced to smaller parties, which the elves
were able to defeat. Additionally, they were capable of easily raiding the
dwarven smithies and forges in their cities. These factors finally brought the
dwarves to the table of diplomacy and an unsettled peace was arrived at. Forever
after those elves who fled into the darkest regions of the mountain would be known
as the dark elves, reknowned for their evil and treacherous ways.
    At the time the dwarves were mobilizing for a war of extinction against
the dark elves, the elves upon the plains and forests were having their own
troubles. For years the two elven nations had been close allies, though they
ruled their cities separately, they worked together hand in hand for the greater
glory.
The greatest of the high elves was Galaindrielle, he was the leader of them
and sat on the elven council. Lauriel was a wood elf, loved by her fellow elves,
both for her great beauty and her loving ways. All seemed well, but Lauriel had
fallen hopelessly in love with Galaindrielle and Galaidrielle loved only his
studies and his people. For decades the two led their respective nations in peace and
prosperity, but slowly jealousy grew in the heart of Lauriel. She could not
fathom Galaindrielle's love of the stars and so tried harder to win his heart.
Finally, it seemed Galaindrielle noticed for the first time, the love Lauriel held
for him.
Yet he could not return that love, for he was truly devoted to his magic.
Nothing else could compare to the ecstasy of a successful spell cast or the feeling
of accomplishment when discovering the secrets of the heavens. But out of
interest for maintaining the good relations with the elves of the forest, he
attempted to show some interest back to the lovely wood elf. A few more years passed, the
war started in the mountains, when one night the two found themselves alone in a
tower, Galaindrielle trying to explain a complicated formula to Lauriel, but
all she could think of was his beauty, standing their in the stars light. And
so, she stepped up to him, kissing him. Galaindrielle, caught in the passion of his
love for studies, suddenly found himself defenseless, the walls he placed around
his heart lowered as he'd talked about his studies. They fell into each others
arms.
The day after, Lauriel flush with the feeling that Galaindrielle loved her,
went to him, but was rebuffed. Her heart torn, she asked him, through her tears,
why.
This he was not able to answer, for despite all his knowledge of the stars,
he knew nothing of the heart. Grief stricken, she fled back to her homeland.
The wood elves were incensed. Their rage, that a high elf would take that which
was given in love for merely the purpose of satisfying one night of desire,
fueled their anger to heights previously unimagined. All trade was shut down,
armies were mobilized on both sides. Though no outright war would occur, both sides
raided each other, committing atrocities that would be regretted for centuries to
come.
And so, when the dark elven emissaries arrived, instead of finding the
unified nation of elves they thought, he found 2 armed camps, who would not give
aid, afraid that it would open them to an attack by the other.
    And so many of the races were divided. No longer were there just 4 unique
races, but instead 7, each of the new species becoming very different from
the race they sprang from. As time continued, each of the races became
shattered. No longer were they a unified nation, but became separate nations as each
followed a leader who had a different vision, until today there are hundreds of these
small kingdoms. Now the alliances cross racial boundaries. Wood elves ally with
high elves, orcs with ogres, dwarves with dark elves, forgetting their centuries
long hatred in the quest for power. Many alliances have grown out of this stew.
Some remain in the background, not gaining much power but keeping their
individual kingdoms safe from the depradations of land hungry people. Others become
known throughout the world, influencing the actions of others just through their
existence. The Dominion is the greatest of these. Their influence spans the
world, touching even those who would be thought below their notice. Only one
question remains. Will other kingdoms band together to displace them, or shall The
Dominion rule remain uncontested. To answer that, only time will tell.

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