[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 weary from his ceaseless journey through the stars, the Forefather took his load off to behold the boundless Ocean and the Darkness that enveloped the infinite waters, mirroring 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, named it Arinar, and resolved to find recumbency there. However, the newborn world seemed lacking in charm to the White Wanderer, prompting him to endow it with life. Thus, 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 immense 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.

 

 

Although we may never ascertain whether 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. Lacking stable physical forms, they adopted appearances to their liking: Nuadu as a silver deer, Harad as a great gold-maned lion, and Garahan as a gracefully soaring black dragon. The Gods sensed the White Wanderer's intangible presence in Arinar and formed a strong alliance, embracing their shared destiny as Arinar's noble guardians. With naught of a thought, they endeavored to further unveil the charm of Arinar. 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 the world’s 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. Yet, the jakkars were merely a brief delight for Garahan, who soon yearned to create a world of his own and guide it discreetly. Over time, Garahan's cravings took over his mind and he conceived a perilous plot to seize the Spear of the White Wanderer to gain greater power. Thus, Garahan marshaled the jakkars and led them toward the God's Grove.

 

 

Garahan spoke before the dragons that guarded the Grove and swayed some to his cause, while those faithful to the White Wanderer and his covenant called out to Nuadu and Harad. The two Gods beheld their former brother succumbed to a voracious lust for power that threatened Arinar's balance. Left with no alternative, Nuadu and Harad had to counter the menace with force, yet they came too late. With a fervent grasp, Garahan pulled upon the Spear – dislodging but a mere sliver of the White Wanderer's mighty weapon rooted deep within Arinar. Yet while the Spear itself stood upright, the Morning Star atop it fractured and plummeted, setting Arinar ablaze in its descent. As this happened, Harad and Nuadu – alongside the remaining loyal dragons – charged at Garahan, who clung fiercely to the Spear. Amidst the sweeping conflagration, this was the First Battle of Arinar, where the two Celestial Brothers prevailed over the fallen one, who was ultimately vanquished, shackled, and entombed deep beneath the earth. 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, a blind old man burst into a coughing fit. Afterward, he continued his story of the days leading up to the Twilight of Arinar.

 

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II. DISCORDANT BROTHERS

 

Restoring balance to Arinar remained 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, owing their exceptional skill to both their innate gifts and their lord's assistance.

 

However, the Gods were too engrossed in their designs to keep an eye on their rebellious brother. Confined deep underground, Garahan suffered great pain as his blood seeped from wounds sustained 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 clawed his way out of the underworld, his body forming from the dirt and mire he dug through. Bearing a resemblance to Garahan and imbued with a fierce will to live and reign, inherited through his blood, Titorion sought out the scattered jakkars in distant lands, who caught a sense of their master's blood in the demon and accepted him as their new lord.

 

Over the centuries, Titorion amassed a formidable army to free Garahan. As envisioned by Nuadu and Harad, both the Sun and the Moon's light were deadly to the jakkars, so Titorion protected his forces beneath his vast wingspan. The jakkar assault caught the Firstborn off guard, leaving them ill-equipped to confront such a formidable foe – and they suffered even greater losses as they retreated into their woods. The jakkars finally met their match when the adept and valiant commander Alestin marshaled the elven army, turning the tide and routing the invaders. The Firstborn emerged victorious, but their triumph was dearly bought.

 

Meanwhile, Nuadu and Harad kept a close eye on the events unfolding in Arinar, both growing enraged by the sight of the jakkars' savage and heinous deeds. Harad briefly entertained the thought of annihilating Garahan's progeny, but Nuadu quelled his brother's fury, reminding him that the jakkars were Arinar's children – akin to all its other inhabitants. Nuadu lamented that his progeny struggled to repulse the enemy in their darkest hour, acknowledging that even profound wisdom was insufficient for the elves to fulfill their role as the true guardians of Arinar. It dawned upon the Gods that the Firstborn would need companions to fight alongside them, both distinct and alike. Once he heard his brother's proposal, the golden-haired Harad burst into laughter, scattering a handful of bright sparks into Arinar that descended from the sky for seven days and nights. Upon reaching the earth, these sparks turned into humans – fleeting in existence, like embers in a blaze, but equally intense and luminous. They embodied both virtue and vice, reminiscent of fire itself, yet in their own discretion. And so, the humans took their place alongside their Firstborn kin as the Sentinels of Arinar.

 

The elves were benevolent to the humans arriving in Arinar, treating them as younger siblings. Yet, the Firstborn knew very well that the human race would never measure up to the elves, who would always remain three steps ahead of Harad’s mortal progeny. Thereby, the elves revealed to the humans their wisdom of hunting and fishing, agriculture and architecture, and Harad's children proved to be adept and enthusiastic students. With lifespans too brief to grasp the elves' wisdom, the humans passed on their learning to further generations. Over the centuries, the human clans settled vast lands, draining swamps and clearing woodlands, thereby encroaching upon the Firstborn's domain and stirring resentment amongst Nuadu's offspring. Unpleasant rumors circulated that Arinar had been a better place before the humans arrived. Alas, neither did the humans take the elves kindly, viewing them as arrogant and aloof. The memory of the once robust bond between the races gradually faded, with the smallest of slights threatening to ignite a great conflagration.

 

The fragile peace shattered once Berengar's beautiful daughter – the offspring of a mighty human chieftain and sorcerer – slipped away from home to follow the Firstborn she had fallen for. Consumed by rage, Berengar rallied his forces to march against the elves, garnering support from many leaders of other clans who shared his animosity towards the Firstborn. This marked the onset of the War of the Moon and the Sun. Despite being outnumbered and outmatched by Harad's offspring, the elves ultimately triumphed, owing to their superiority in all other respects. They persuaded several human leaders to switch allegiances, disillusioned with the prospect of defeating Nuadu's progeny. Overwhelmed, Berengar and his allies had no choice but to curse their traitorous kin and the elves, and to seek a new homeland. They exiled to the northernmost lands and settled in the snowbound mountains, thus beginning a new chapter of hardship and self-sufficiency. Ever since, the Mountain Clans harbored 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 a 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 offspring, the elves became wary of the humans after the War of the Moon and the Sun, choosing to maintain relations with the humans through the most sagacious among them. The elves and the humans forged the Eternal Peace, which permitted the Firstborn to share their ancient wisdom with a select few humans, nurturing the hope that their race would ultimately shed their savage nature and not betray their teachers anew. The Firstborn were prudent and dedicated mentors, and under their guidance, Harad's children made great strides in their studies, mastering arts and crafts never known to them before.

 

Once the humans had embraced the once-superior wisdom of the elves, they aspired to a formidable leader who would unite all Harad's progeny into one prosperous kingdom. In time, Oldris, a human sovereign among many, set his sights on subjugating the neighboring lands and devoted much of his life to unifying the lands claimed by his kin. After a succession of internecine wars, Oldris emerged as the undisputed ruler of a great human kingdom – yet his reign was brief, as he succumbed shortly after his grand victory. Whispers of poison circulated, a narrative that many found gratifying, as Prince Orin, his sole heir, neither lacked his father's ambition nor his ruthlessness. Oldris's demise left Orin as the sole ruler of a formidable kingdom, and he established a new capital called Kronun, lavishing it with grandeur to assert his power.

 

As Orin contemplated the expansion of his kingdom, he conceived a plot to conquer the elven lands. He harbored no illusions of victory over the Firstborn with mere swords and spears – or even with the aid of human mages. The king sought a powerful ally to secure a victory as grand as certain – hence, one night, Orin heard an insinuating voice in his dream, beckoning him to seek out the deepest of caverns and descend into its depths. At the very bottom, the voice assured, laid an ally to guarantee his triumph in the upcoming war. The voice never left Orin alone thereafter, growing more incisive and inexplicably tangible.

 

The other day, Orin set out from the capital on a whim, impelled by the call. His path was not solitary, for serpents emerged from beneath rotting logs to accompany him. Upon reaching the cave from where the voice summoned, the snakes led the way, with Orin in tow. For days he roamed the utter blackness, lured by the voice, with only the serpents rustling and hissing around him. At long last, Orin stepped into a vast cavern and beheld a shackled giant black dragon – 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 exhaled upon Orin, thereby siring the first of the Forsaken in Arinar.

 

The king recoiled and fled in terror, his heartbeat growing 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 frigid heart. The grass beneath his feet turned to lifeless ashes, and whatever his hands touched perished at once. Orin's return to Kronun was marked by a dark furrow of death. The gates of his grand capital crumbled into rusty ruins as the king stood before them. The walls of Kronun blackened, and the roofs collapsed, as life abandoned the once-magnificent city. Garahan's breath scorched the souls of the people, leaving their bodies perpetually cold, stripped of will, love, and any sensation but an unyielding obedience to Garahan's edict 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 a 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. Having laid waste to the northern parts of his realm, Orin split the Legion into two. The Firstborn marshaled all their forces upon realizing their foe 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, a sanctuary for the elves across the ages. Having lost many battles, the Firstborn were heartsick to abandon their homes to the Forsaken, too weakened to fight back any longer. Though defiled, the Eternal Forest was still too tenacious for utter destruction, as the Tree of Life towering over the heart of Ayvondil withstood the undead warlocks' relentless spellfire.

 

Meanwhile, the second Legion army swept northeast in pursuit of Duke Almis, who had assumed leadership of the humans unaffected by Garahan's dark breath. Harassing the people fleeing their former king, the undead marched into the harsh highlands of the Mountain Clans, a land fraught with peril for any outsider. Orin soon recognized that challenging the highlanders in their own domain would be a near-futile endeavor, even for the Legion's countless numbers. Thus, the Cursed King exploited the highlanders' disdain for the humans and the elves to forge an alliance with Berengar's heir, who consented 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's momentum seemed inexorable. As they withdrew to the Midnight Lands in the north, the orphaned humans and the remaining Firstborn knew they were on their own. The Sentinels rallied all who could bear arms beneath their banner, with their field forges clanging day and night. The elves invoked spirits from every corner of Arinar's woods, valleys, rivers, and lakes. Recently sworn enemies, the humans and the elves now stood shoulder to shoulder against the gravest menace the world had known. It was a matter of course that if the North fell, so would Arinar; thus, both the humans and the elves were resolute to triumph – or share a grim fate with the Forsaken should they fall. Seven harrowing years had passed since the onset of the War of the Spear.

 

 

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 clouded the sky, shrouding the battleground in darkness and halting the march of time – the battle blended into a mere eyeblink, and an eyeblink seemed to span an eternity. 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 tremendous that it dislodged the Spear – and with it, the very fabric of Arinar. One by one, the invisible magical bonds that sustained the world for centuries began to unravel, releasing the chains of Garahan as he writhed and convulsed the realm in his rejoice of impending freedom. As mighty as it was, not even the Gods' chain was impervious, and it ultimately tore.

 

Released after ages of confinement, Garahan spread his black wings and soared toward the Midnight Lands, where the Last Battle yet raged. Dragons that remained loyal to the rebel God after millennia ascended to join him in the skies as he flew across Arinar. Upon reaching the God's Grove, Garahan scattered all the dragon guards, grasped the Spear, and wrenched it from the ground. The warriors sensed Arinar shudder as it lost its Axis, threatening the world to collapse under the strain of the forces unleashed. Yet only a few caught a glimpse of the Sun and the Moon vanishing from the sky, as Harad and Nuadu broke their vows and descended into Arinar to save the dying world.

 

 

Both armies trembled as Garahan and the Celestial Brothers clashed above the battlefield. With the White Wanderer's Spear in hand, Garahan struck his brothers with immense force, each hit echoing in the farthest reaches of Arinar. However, Harad and Nuadu, precise and formidable, overpowered the debilitated Garahan, who had been sapped by millennia of imprisonment. Time and again, Garahan parried the mighty strikes of his brothers with the Spear – until it cracked, shattering with a deafening roar and scattering across Arinar in myriad shards. Bereft of his weapon, Garahan plunged to the ground as the last magical bond laid by the White Wanderer snapped under the tremendous strain. Arinar shuddered anew and began to fracture, its mountains and valleys yielding to water, rivers shifting flows, and 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 Mountain Clans fled the carnage. 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 a blind old man who remembered every day of the War of the Spear he fought through…

 

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V. THE 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, seemingly oblivious to the disappearance of his army, when Nuadu approached him and declared, “I will restore what has been lost to you. Henceforth, you alone have power over your fate and may shape it as you will. It is your fault that doomed hundreds of thousands of lives, and it is at their behest that I extend your life to an almost immortal term. I bestow upon you visions of the world's past and future, yet you shall no longer sway its destiny. Furthermore, I will take your sight, for you and Garahan are now bound together, and even as he slumbers, he may still witness 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, severing Godgorrath from the rest of Arinar and leaving the rugged island isolated. The few highlanders who returned 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 blight, 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 sanctuary, the elves ventured northward and settled for new dwellings in the pristine woods of Melvendil, untouched by the Forsaken hordes. Nuadu gifted his progeny with saplings of six White Trees as a remembrance of the Tree of Life, harboring within their robust trunks the vital essence of the Firstborn. Settling in Melvendil, the elves reinstated the Council of Twelve, composed of the Last Battle's most illustrious champions, who would wisely rule their kin for eons. 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 a newly forged Spear might one day reconcile the sundered world.

 

The humans implored Harad to remain in Arinar, but he was adamant, proclaiming, “You cannot eradicate evil from this world; not even we Gods are capable of such a feat. You have triumphed, yet no battle secures eternal peace. Thus, you, my children, must forever stand vigilant against evil. All who fought in the Last Battle, I name you the Chosen and bestow upon you a share 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 instead 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, ascended as the first Chosen Emperor, ruling long and justly. He instituted the Order of Divine Light to protect the kingdom, reaffirmed the Eternal Peace with the Firstborn, and founded the Magical Academy. The majestic cathedrals he erected to Harad's glory bore witness to the Chosen's commitment to their God's edict to forge the Spear anew and wield it against the evil in Arinar.

 

The forefathers claimed that a meager peace surpasses a grand war. Following the War of the Spear, both 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 3804]

[Shimarin 141]

[vavavi 241]

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

[LeeLoo 2296]

[Drakoslayd 646]

WOAH NEW LORE 

[Higgings 1826]

Lore!!! 

 

[Jcbref 611]

[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