[2024.04.19] Origins of Arinar

[Warspear Online 153]

I. DAWN OF ARINAR

Neither knows for certain when Arinar originated. The elders hold that it was the Forefather, or White Wanderer, who created Arinar – an omnipotent entity beyond the comprehension of reason. Once tired from his incessant journey through the stars, the Forefather took his load off to behold the boundless Ocean and the Darkness that covered the infinite waters, resembling the skies in eternal stillness. It was then that the White Wanderer drew a piece of solid earth right from the bottom of the Ocean, naming the piece Arinar and resolving to find recumbency there. However, the newborn world seemed lacking in charm to the White Wanderer, prompting him to bring it to life. He sculpted mountains and forests, oceans and rivers, and filled them with diverse creatures such as animals, birds, and fish. Placing his Spear at the heart of Arinar, he established the Celestial Axis, a source of great power that would keep Arinar balanced and safe, while the Morning Star atop the Spear bathed the world in light. Along with this, the White Wanderer created dragons – wise and majestic beings bequeathed to guard the God's Grove, home to the Spear, and secure lasting harmony throughout Arinar. With Arinar thus settled, the White Wanderer finally took a rest.

 

 

Though we shall never know if it was part of his grand design, the White Wanderer's wisdom, strength, and will personified as three Gods of Arinar: Nuadu, Harad, and Garahan. None of them possessed stable physical forms, so they took on shapes of their own liking. Thus, Nuadu favored a silver deer, Harad appeared as a huge gold-maned lion, while Garahan soared gracefully through the skies as a black dragon. The Gods could sense the unseen presence of the White Wanderer in Arinar and forged a close bond with each other, assuming the common destiny of Arinar's mighty guardians. With naught of a thought, they stepped forward to unfold the charm of Arinar ever more. So far, the Dawn of Arinar was its finest era, lasting for many millennia and unmatched by any era to come.

 

As the ages passed by, Garahan grew weary of securing world balance and aspired to become an architect to match the White Wanderer himself. Driven by this impulse, he designed the Jakkars under the seal of secrecy, granting them free will and the ability to take whatever shell – much like the Gods themselves. However, the Jakkars were quite a brief joy for Garahan, and he soon yearned to create a world of his own and guide it discreetly. Over time, Garahan's cravings took over his mind and he devised an insane plan to seize the Spear of the White Wanderer to gain greater power. So Garahan rallied the Jakkars and led them to the God's Grove.

 

 

Garahan spoke before the dragons guarding the Grove and won some of them over to his side, while those loyal to the White Wanderer and his covenant called out to Nuadu and Harad. The two Gods beheld their sworn brother succumbed to a lust for power that threatened Arinar's balance. Having no other choice, Nuadu and Harad had to answer this threat with force, but they were too late to prevent Garahan's daring attempt to extract the Spear. Though Garahan's divine power was barely enough to dislodge even a fragment of the White Wanderer's mighty weapon rooted deep within Arinar. Yet while the Spear itself stood upright, the Morning Star broke from its tip and set Arinar ablaze in its descent. As this happened, Harad and Nuadu – and the remnants of the loyal dragons – charged at Garahan, who was clinging fiercely to the Spear. Witnessed by the sweeping conflagration, this was the First Battle of Arinar, which saw the two Celestial Brothers gaining the upper hand over the fallen one, ultimately crushed, chained, and imprisoned deep beneath the ground. With the fall of their mighty lord, the traitorous dragons took refuge in the far reaches of Arinar, while the Jakkars fled far and wide in terror.

 

Neither Nuadu nor Harad celebrated their triumph, but their hearts were heavy as they acknowledged the White Wanderer's departure from the troubled world, despairing over the seeds of discord sown by his children and the fall of the Morning Star. These were the final moments of the blessed Dawn of Arinar. Nuadu and Harad grieved to witness the crippled, darkling world, its balance forever disturbed, and swore an oath to never again descend to Arinar, so as to preserve what remained of it… To replace the lost Morning Star, they created the Moon and the Sun, alternating to illuminate the now-darkened Arinar from above, harnessed by the Gods.

 

Sitting at the doorstep of his poor hut, the blind old man burst into a coughing fit. Afterward, he continued his story of the days leading up to the Twilight of Arinar.

 

---

 

 

II. DISCORDANT BROTHERS

 

Restoring balance to Arinar was a lasting concern for Nuadu; yet, he gave much thought to following Garahan's plan and creating his own living beings to protect the world. Having gathered a handful of starlight, Nuadu took hold of his divine breath and created the elves, the Firstborn. These marvelous creatures were not subject to the rules of time, their lives spanning centuries. Thus, Nuadu entrusted his children with guarding the Spear and enhancing Arinar's splendor. After settling the forests right up their alley, the elves mastered all kinds of arts and crafts in a blink of an eye. It was due to their natural gift, as well as their lord's aid, that they owed their remarkable records.

 

However, the Gods were wrapped up too much in their designs to keep an eye on their rebellious brother. Imprisoned deep underground, Garahan endured great pain as his blood flowed from wounds suffered in the First Battle. Though more than sheer blood, it was Garahan's anguish and resentment that manifested and gave rise to a dark spirit, Titorion, a demon fueled by the rage and despair that tore Garahan. Ethereal at first, Titorion found his way out of the underworld, his body forming from the dirt and mud he dug through. Resembling Garahan himself and infused with will to live and reign inherited with his blood, Titorion sought out the remnants of the Jakkars in distant lands, who caught a sense of their master's blood in the demon and accepted him as their new lord.

 

Over centuries, Titorion amassed a formidable army to free Garahan.  As envisioned by Nuadu and Harad, both the Sun and Moon's light were deadly to the Jakkars, so Titorion protected his forces beneath his expansive wings. The Jakkar assault caught the Firstborn off guard, as the elves were unprepared to counter such a formidable enemy – and suffered even greater losses as they retreated into their forests. The Jakkars finally met their match when the skillful and brave commander Alestin led the elven army to turn the tide and defeat the invaders, putting them to flight. The Firstborn won the war, but their victory came at a high cost.

 

Meanwhile, Nuadu and Harad kept a close eye on the events unfolding in Arinar, both growing enraged by the sight of the Jakkars' ruthless and atrocious acts. The notion of exterminating Garahan's creatures even crossed Harad's mind, but Nuadu calmed his brother's wrath by reminding him that the Jakkars were children of Arinar – much like all the other beings there. Nuadu was disheartened to see his own children unable to repel the enemy in their darkest hour, recognizing that even great wisdom was insufficient for the elves to fulfill their role as the true guardians of Arinar. Thus, it became clear to the Gods that the Firstborn would need companions to fight alongside them, both distinct and alike. When golden-haired Harad heard his brother's proposal, he burst into laughter and scattered a handful of bright sparks into Arinar, which descended from the sky for seven days and nights. When they touched the ground, these sparks turned into humans. Their lives were brief, much like coals in a flame, but just as hot and bright. They encompassed both good and evil, akin to fire – yet in their own discretion. So the humans joined their Firstborn brethren as the Sentinels of Arinar.

 

The elves were benevolent to the humans arriving in Arinar, treating them as younger siblings. Meanwhile, the Firstborn knew very well that the human race would never measure up to the elves, who would always be three steps ahead of Harad’s mortal children. Thereby, the elves revealed to the humans the wisdom of hunting and fishing, agriculture and architecture – while Harad's children proved to be quick and eager learners. With lives too short to grasp the elves' wisdom, the humans passed on their learning to further generations. Over the centuries, human clans settled vast lands, draining swamps and clearing forests, thus encroaching upon the Firstborn's lands and stirring resentment amongst Nuadu's progeny – unpleasant rumors circulated that Arinar had been a better place before the humans arrived. Alas, neither did the humans take the elves kindly, regarding them as arrogant and aloof. The memory of the once-strong friendship between the two races soon faded, with even the slightest provocation threatening to spark a great conflagration.

 

The fragile peace crumbled once Berengar's beautiful daughter – the offspring of a mighty human leader and sorcerer – slipped away from home to follow the Firstborn she fell in love with. Consumed by rage, Berengar rallied his forces to march against the elves, garnering support from many leaders of other clans who also harbored animosity towards the Firstborn. This marked the onset of the War of the Moon and the Sun. Although the elves were outnumbered and outmatched by Harad's offspring, they eventually emerged victorious as they were superior in all other respects. They persuaded several human leaders, disillusioned with the prospect of defeating Nuadu's offspring, to defect to their side. Overwhelmed, Berengar and his allies had no choice but to curse their traitorous kin and the elves, and to seek a new homeland. So they exiled to the far northern lands and settled in the snow-capped mountains – thus beginning a new chapter of hardship and self-sufficiency. Ever since, the Mountain Clans have fostered a legacy of enmity towards the humans and the elves in all their descendants. Once the human race split into two, the War of the Moon and the Sun drew to a close.

 

So spoke the blind old man, whose insatiable lust for power had once thrust the world into disasters and wars, pushing Arinar on the edge of doom…

 

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III. ORIN'S TEMPTATION

 

Having witnessed the reckless nature of Harad's children, the elves grew cautious of the humans following the War of the Moon and the Sun, and chose a different manner to keep terms with the humans through the wisest among them. The elves and humans established the Eternal Peace, which allowed the Firstborn to impart their ancient wisdom to a select few humans, in the hope that the humans would eventually overcome their savage nature and never betray their mentors again. The Firstborn were wise and devoted mentors, for their guidance ensured that Harad's children made great strides in their studies, mastering arts and crafts never known to them before.

 

Once the humans embraced the once-superior wisdom of the elves, they began to dream of a mighty leader who would unite all Harad's children into a single prosperous kingdom. So it was – one of many human rulers, Oldris resolved to subjugate all neighboring lands and dedicated most of his life to uniting the vast territories claimed by his kin. After a series of internecine wars, Oldris finally triumphed as the sole ruler of a huge human kingdom – alas, destined to enjoy his great power for mere years, as he passed away shortly after his grand victory. The king was rumored to have been poisoned, which was quite a satisfying plot for many, as Prince Orin was the only heir to Oldris, lacking neither the lust for power nor the cruelty of his father. The death of his august parent left Orin as the only ruler of a mighty state, who laid a new capital named Kronun, sparing no expense on its splendor to assert his power.

 

As Orin dreamed of expanding his kingdom, he devised a plan to conquer the elven lands. But he was under no illusion that victory over the Firstborn could be achieved with mere swords and spears – or even with the aid of the human mages. The king sought a powerful ally to ensure a victory as grand as certain – so one night, Orin heard an insinuating voice in his dream, coaxing him to seek out the deepest of caves and descend into it. At the very bottom, the voice assured, he would find an ally to guarantee success in the upcoming war. The voice never left Orin alone thereafter, but grew more distinctive and even mysteriously real.

 

The other day, Orin set out from the capital on a whim, impelled by the call. He was not alone on his journey, as snakes crawled out from under rotting logs along the road, accompanying him. Once Orin found the cave entrance from where the voice called to him, the snakes slithered inside, now followed by the king. For days, Orin wandered through the pitch darkness, as if drawn by the voice, accompanied only by the snakes rustling and hissing around him. At long last, Orin stepped into a vast cavern and beheld a giant black dragon in chains – none other than Garahan himself. As he spotted the king, Garahan spoke to Orin, “At last, mortal, you have heeded my summons! You and your kin are destined to fulfill what I could not millennia ago! Head north to the God's Grove and obliterate any obstacle with your fist of steel! Show no mercy to the old world! I bestow upon you immense power to be the sole claimant of the Spear of the White Wanderer. Retrieve the Spear and bring it to me, so that your people may transcend their corrupted flesh and witness the dawn of a new world!” With those words, Garahan breathed upon Orin, thus engendering the first Forsaken in Arinar.

 

The king recoiled and fled in terror, feeling his heartbeat grow ever fainter by the minute, his body turning colder, his blood ceasing to flow, and his breath coming to a halt. As he made his way out of the dark cavern, Orin felt no joy in his cold heart. The grass beneath his feet turned to lifeless ashes, and whatever his hands touched died at once. Orin's path back to Kronun lay like a dark furrow of death. The gates of his grand capital crumbled to rusty rubble as the king stood before them. The walls of Kronun blackened, and the roofs collapsed, as life fled the once-glorious city. Garahan's breath scorched the souls of the people, leaving their bodies eternally cold, devoid of will, love, and any sensation but blind obedience to Garahan's command to reach the God's Grove at any cost. Arinar trembled beneath the heavy footsteps of the Legion born from Garahan's will.

 

So spoke the blind old man who beheld the wrath of the Gods and the fury of mortals, cognized the grandeur of life, the void of death, and the bitterness of reckoning…

 

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IV. WAR OF THE SPEAR

 

The Cursed King's relentless steel army headed northward, impervious to arms and death itself – for what is dead may never die. Wherever the Legion marched, it swelled in size with hollow-hearted beasts and nameless monsters joining its ranks as the dark army became the epitome of terror. After Orin had ravaged the northern parts of his own kingdom, he divided the Legion into two. The Firstborn marshaled all their forces as they realized their enemy was spawned from Garahan's will, and that the elven lands were the target of the first undead army. Alas, the children of Nuadu lost their ground, and the undead stormed into the Eternal Forest of Ayvondil, which had sheltered the elves for centuries. Having lost many battles, the Firstborn were heartsick to abandon their homes to the Forsaken, too weakened to fight back any longer. Desecrated, the Eternal Forest was still too resilient for the undead to obliterate, as the Tree of Life towering over the heart of Ayvondil withstood the barrage of spells cast by the undead warlocks.

 

Meanwhile, the second Legion army swept northeast in pursuit of Duke Almis, who had taken leadership of the humans unaffected by Garahan's dark breath. Harassing the people who had fled in terror from their former king, the undead army marched into the harsh highlands of the Mountain Clans, perilous to any outsider. Orin soon realized that combating the Highlanders on their own turf would be a nearly hopeless endeavor even for the Legion's countless forces. Thus, the Cursed King appealed to the Highlanders' disdain for the humans and elves to forge an alliance with Berengar's heir, who agreed to dispatch his finest warriors to the war. In this way, the Mountain Clans joined forces with the Forsaken as part of the Legion.

 

The Cursed King seemed unstoppable. As they retreated into the Midnight Lands to the north, the orphaned humans and the remaining Firstborn knew they were on their own. The Sentinels rallied anyone who could wield a blade or a bow under their banner, with their field forges clanging day and night. The elves called upon spirits from all corners of Arinar's woods, valleys, rivers, and lakes. Recently sworn enemies, the humans and elves now stood shoulder to shoulder to face the greatest threat the world had ever seen. It was a matter of course that if the North fell, so would Arinar, so both humans and elves were determined to prevail – or share a dire non-existence with the Forsaken if defeated. Seven harrowing years had passed since the War of the Spear began.

 

 

The two great armies fought their Last Battle at the God's Grove, by the foot of the White Wanderer's Spear. The late autumn of the Midnight Lands sprinkled the warriors with snow grains, so the humans and elves ached for a battle to warm their blood. When the Sentinels and the Legion clashed, a light-tight, acrid smoke filled the sky, enveloping the battlefield in darkness and halting the march of time – the battle blent into an eyeblink, and an eyeblink seemed eternal. Swords and spears rose and fell, arrows sang through the air, and supreme magic engulfed the field of death… The synergy of the spells cast by both armies was so powerful that it dislodged the Spear – and with it, the entirety of Arinar. One by one, the invisible magical bonds that had held the world together for centuries began to break, releasing the chains of Garahan, who began to thrash and twist the entire realm in his rejoice of impending freedom. As formidable as it was, not even the Gods' chain was invulnerable, and it tore at long last.

 

Released after ages in his prison, Garahan spread his black wings and headed for the Midnight Lands, where the Last Battle was still raging. The dragons loyal to the rebel God after millennia joined him high in the skies as he flew across Arinar. Upon reaching the God's Grove, Garahan scattered all the dragon guards, seized the Spear, and plucked it from the ground. The warriors felt Arinar shudder as it lost its Axis, as if the world were about to collapse under the strain of the forces unleashed. Yet only a few caught a glimpse of the Sun and Moon vanishing from the sky, as Harad and Nuadu broke their oaths and descended into Arinar to save the dying world.

 

 

Both armies trembled as Garahan and the Celestial Brothers clashed above the battlefield. Wielding the White Wanderer's Spear, Garahan struck his brothers with immense force, each hit echoing in the farthest reaches of Arinar. However, Harad and Nuadu were more precise and stronger compared to Garahan, weakened by millennia of imprisonment. Over and over, Garahan countered the mighty strikes of his brothers with the Spear – until it cracked, shattering with a deafening roar and scattering across Arinar in myriad shards. Disarmed, Garahan plummeted, while the last magical bond laid by the White Wanderer snapped under the tremendous strain. Arinar shuddered once more and began to fracture, its mountains and valleys yielding to water, rivers shifting flows, volcanoes erupting. The wrath of the elements gave birth to a new world in the place of the once united landmass – and such was the price of victory. With a shudder, the Legion fell apart as the remnants of the Forsaken and the Mountain Clans fled the battlefield. As the battle waned, the living fell to the ground beside the dead as witnesses to the Great Rift that marked the end of the War of the Spear.

 

So spoke the blind old man who remembered every day of the War of the Spear he fought through…

 

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V. NEW DAWN

 

Once the Last Battle was over, Harad sought to end Garahan's life at a sweep, only to be reminded by Nuadu that just as there is no light without shadow, so Arinar cannot exist without any of its Gods. The Celestial Brothers combined their powers to cast a spell of eternal slumber upon Garahan, erasing all traces of his influence on Arinar as he shut his eyelids. Harad and Nuadu assigned the finest human and elven warriors to stand immortal guard over the Fallen God, their immortality coming at the cost of all former ties and affections. The guards were commanded to watch Garahan at all times of day and night, and let none into his prison, whether friend or foe. To this day, the Immortal Guards, oblivious to their kin and names, keep their watch over Garahan's hold by where the Last Battle broke out…

 

Meanwhile, King Orin stood motionless on the battlefield, as if unaware that his army had long since vanished, when Nuadu approached him and said, “I will restore what you have lost. Henceforth, you alone have power over your fate and can decide it as you see fit. It is your fault that doomed hundreds of thousands of lives, and it is at their expense that I am extending your life to an almost immortal term. I will bestow upon you the revelation of the world's past and future, but you will no longer have the right to influence its destiny. I will also take your sight, for you and Garahan are now bound together, and even as he slumbers, he can still observe Arinar through your eyes. Now go, and seek your own path.” And so he did, now blind but immensely wise. Near the site of the Last Battle, he built the Forge of the Gods, where the great hero could one day forge the Spear anew from the shards scattered across the world. To this day, Orin remains by the Forge as he envisions the future of Arinar…

 

The Great Rift wrought havoc and sorrow to the entire world. The domain of the Mountain Clans shook with earthquakes for weeks until the raging sea gave way to overwhelm the mountains and separated Godgorrath from the rest of Arinar, leaving the rugged island isolated. The few highlanders who returned to their home after the Last Battle shared with their kin all they had witnessed, and many nights since have echoed with legends of the great battle and the mighty Spear that will bring former foes to justice.

 

As most of the Legion perished in the Great Rift, the remnants of the Forsaken army fled southward until they reached Moraktar, lying as a separate island southeast of the desecrated Kronun. It is there, amidst the dark woods and poisonous swamps, that the Forsaken erected their citadel and began to rekindle the Legion. Even as the centuries passed, the undead remained loyal to their eternal bond with the defeated Garahan – and the Spear.

 

Tainted by the Legion's pervasive corruption, the Eternal Forest was irreversibly scarred during the Great Rift and severed from its roots on an isolated island. This calamity rendered any hopes of restoration a distant dream. In search of refuge, the elves ventured northward and settled for new dwellings in the pristine woods of Melvendil, untouched by the Forsaken hordes. Nuadu, for his part, bestowed upon his children saplings of six White Trees, to remind the elves of the Tree of Life and to harbor within their mighty bodies the life forces of the Firstborn. As they settled in Melvendil, the elves re-established the Council of Twelve, consisting of the most illustrious heroes of the Last Battle, who would wisely rule their kin for millennia. With each passing day, the elves honored the Last Battle that spared Arinar from destruction at the dreadful cost of the Great Rift, holding onto the hope that the newly forged Spear would restore the fractured world to harmony.

 

The humans implored Harad to stay in Arinar, but he was adamant, declaring, “You cannot eradicate evil from this world; not even we Gods can do that. You have triumphed, but no battle secures eternal peace. Therefore, you, my children, must forever remain vigilant against evil. All who fought in the Last Battle, I name you the Chosen and bestow upon you a portion of my power. With any fortune, find the Spear's shards before the forces of evil do, for this weapon is the very essence of Arinar's life – or its demise!” The Chosen did not return to their homeland, ravaged by the Cursed King, but set sail to one of the many islands that emerged during the Great Rift – naming it Langasard and founding the splendid city of Altgard at its heart. Duke Almis, who had survived the Great Battle, became the first Chosen Emperor, ruling long and justly. He established the Order of Divine Light to safeguard the kingdom, ratified the Eternal Peace with the Firstborn, and founded the Magical Academy. The majestic cathedrals he erected in Harad's honor bore witness to the Chosen's commitment to their God's edict to forge the Spear anew and brandish it against evil in Arinar.

 

The forefathers said that a lean peace is better than a glorious war. After the War of the Spear concluded, the Firstborn and the Chosen harbored hopes for an era of peace to grace Arinar – hopes that were soon challenged. Before long, the Mountain Clans honed the art of navigation and began to raid the shores of Melvendil and Langasard, while a ghostly threat loomed in the south where the Forsaken lurked. Shortly thereafter, the four races would align under two banners once more in a fierce battle to decide the destiny of the Spear – and of Arinar itself.

 

So spoke the blind man – Orin, the Cursed King, who nearly caused Arinar's ruin, and the only mortal privy to the world's past and future…

[Dr Strange 3802]

[Shimarin 121]

[vavavi 240]

This was cool to read. Reminds me of that comic app that used to exist for some lore.

[LeeLoo 2283]

[Drakoslayd 646]

WOAH NEW LORE 

[Higgings 1826]

Lore!!! 

 

[Jcbref 610]

[Khrone 648]

BABY, WAKE UP, WARSPEAR LORE IS OUT 🗣🗣🗣

 

On 17/04/2024 at 09:17, Warspear Online disse:

With the fall of their mighty lord, the traitorous dragons took refuge in the far reaches of Arinar, while the Jakkars fled far and wide in terror.

We know about Jakkars, but why have we never seen dragons besides Kronus? They were also only mentioned in Ayvondill T3 
 

On 17/04/2024 at 09:17, Warspear Online disse:

Though more than sheer blood, it was Garahan's anguish and resentment that manifested and gave rise to a dark spirit, Titorion, a demon fueled by the rage and despair that tore Garahan.

Well, this is the first time this demon is mentioned

 

Unless, of course, he is the Unnamed 👀

 

On 17/04/2024 at 09:17, Warspear Online disse:

To this day, the Immortal Guards, oblivious to their kin and names, keep their watch over Garahan's hold by where the Last Battle broke out…

Will we ever be able to reach this place, which are the Midnight Lands? 

Also, i thought the whole War of the Spear and the Last Battle occurred in Iselnort

 

On 17/04/2024 at 09:17, Warspear Online disse:

the remnants of the Forsaken army fled southward until they reached Moraktar, lying as a separate island southeast of the desecrated Kronun.

So Moraktar is where Kronun once was? Or it's just nearby?

 

On 17/04/2024 at 09:17, Warspear Online disse:

So spoke the blind man – Orin, the Cursed King, who nearly caused Arinar's ruin, and the only mortal privy to the world's past and future…

That's a great plot twist!

[Drakoslayd 646]

12 hours ago, Khrone said:

BABY, WAKE UP, WARSPEAR LORE IS OUT 🗣🗣🗣

 

We know about Jakkars, but why have we never seen dragons besides Kronus? They were also only mentioned in Ayvondill T3 
 

Well, this is the first time this demon is mentioned

 

Unless, of course, he is the Unnamed 👀

 

Will we ever be able to reach this place, which are the Midnight Lands? 

Also, i thought the whole War of the Spear and the Last Battle occurred in Iselnort

 

So Moraktar is where Kronun once was? Or it's just nearby?

 

That's a great plot twist!

Avenger is a dragon bro.

 

I doubt the Unnamed one is Titorion. But if he is that would be nuts. 

 

I doubt we would get close to the Midnight Lands any time soon. 

 

I think Kronun is the lands of Moraktar's northern shores but it might have been where King Orin walked back to the surface from. 

 

Yup! Kinda expected it tbh