Campaign Summary

The people of Meadel have seen many troubling times since their exodus from their homelands after the rise of The Dragon King. Now, behind the protection of the Veil (Raised in 0AV – After Veil), a magical barrier keeping those in the Southlands safe from the Dragon King and his armies, Meadel thrives yet again.

From time to time, when Meadel’s safety is threatened in some way, its people band together to fight for the good of all, remembering the time when they stood together as a free people against one foe, the Dragon King.

Living in Meadel is rarely dull, and in large areas the lands are still plagued by wild beasts and Savages. Many great warriors, scholars and cunning politicians have risen to power in recent times. Great stories are told around campfires about heroic deeds as new Legends are born every day.

Join the people of Meadel and experience great adventure, thrilling fights, mystery, intrigue and rowdy parties.

A Brief History

Once, long before the Veil was made to rise, the continent of Meadel was open to all.

It was not safe and it was not perfect, but if you were brave or smart you could make the long difficult journey from even the Icetooth Straits in the north to the Korinant Isles in the south. You could survive the swim in the Rimbow Ocean in the east or experience the untold wonders of the Hulair Cliffs to the far west. You could do all this and the roads would welcome your passage.

But that was, of course, before the rise of the Dragon King…

The humans had claimed the North, their cities great lumbering creatures ever growing and ever cautious of their neighbours. To their east was the Dwen-Garrog – tribe lands of the Orc Oldfathers and their offspring – and towering over that were the Midrinacht Mountains, a sparse and uncompromising territory few but the native ogres could survive. For as long as any could remember, the borders between these three were ever changing in their constant battles over territory, failing to find peace and blinding them to the encroaching threat until it was too late.

In the centre of the great land were the far more tranquil Greenholm groves, the ancestral home of the Elves. A place where it was said the trees touched the very heavens and the forest itself chose whether or not to open to strangers and let pass those it called friends. To the west, amidst the open sea of golden grasslands were the moving cities of the Sarr – the Rrombrrodi. A place warmed by climate and peoples, the great cites halting only when the war-song filled in their veins, calling them to the borders of grassland and trees to dance once more with their old Elven neighbors.

East of Greenholm’s giants of bark and leaf the territory broke way to the twilight peoples, the Fae. Here it was still forest, yes, but one of thickness and shelter and not the height and might of the Greenholm. Here the trees here were indifferent to travellers, their fae inhabitants less tolerable than the Elves to strangers. Hidden away, deep within this unnamed wood was the forbidden Kingdom of Shen-Anthis – a place of secrets and few known truths. This was the self-proclaimed Kingdom of the Fae where non-Fae were not welcome and even now, a century past the great blight, the Fae keep silent the secrets of their true home and speak not with outsiders of their once-home.

At last to the South, choosing fair division over war in splitting their land, one once found the Hoblings and Dwarves, to the south-west and south-east respectively. Two peoples who, even so long after the great blight, knowing the suffering of the many peoples of Meadel, still change little in their own ways. On even smaller offerings of land they keep peace with the other races; the Dwarves continuing to live now as they did then and the Hoblings still building towns and homes around their tradition of stories and tale-houses.

It was not perfect and it was not safe but all this changed with the rise of the Dragon King. All lost their homes, their lands and, for far, far too many to count, their very lives to his wake.

Some spoke of him as a necromancer of great power, unmatched in the ages. Others called him a forgotten evil, reborn and adamant in his revenge and control. No one knew where he came from. No one knew from whence he called his fearsome beasts and armies; but his hordes were endless, his mercy non-existent and when his war began none were prepared to stand.

First to fall were the orcs and ogres as he attacked frorm the north. He added their numbers to his armies as they gave in to his will and joined the giants he brought with him. In twelve short years, barely the life of a young child, all the human cities had fallen, their lands had been lost, and the North was secured by the Dragon King and his disease spread downward over the land of Meadel.

Most humans who survived were made to join with his army, but a faction of the humans fled to their elven allies in the south and took refuge in the protected forests of the Elves – safe for a time while they prepared to strike back. The safety did not last however.

The Dragon King and his army reached the forests and were stopped there by the enchantments woven millennia past by the ancients of the Fae, protecting the Elven forest and the Fae kingdom of Shen-Anthis. Seeing this wall of goodness he turned to his necromancers calling upon them to bring forth a force far more evil than war. He left them to call upon their arts and bring forth the taint of corruption to these woods, to weave their rituals and magics to his purpose. As they surrounded the forest of the Shen-Anthis, their master moved on to conquer the unshielded Rrombrrodi.

The Sarr cared not for his evil, would not submit before his ever-growing army and refused to flee their land or yield their people. The great Warrieor Cats stood together to meet the Dragon king on their home soil and were crushed by his army. The cat-races were almost completely annihilated because of their refusal to retreat but still the Dragon kings armies marched forward.

Southward the Dragon King and his army burned their way through the peaceful Hoblings’ homeland as if there was no resistance at all from these people of peace and as they reached the foothills of the Dwarven Neverstone mountains, the Dwarves’ fortress home, the taint he had trusted to his necromancers had claimed the Fae kingdom and the infection was spreading fast to the Elven trees of Greenholm.

The Dragon’s forces continued the devastation south, easily destroying the lands of the peaceful Hoblings. After burning all of the Hobbling lands, he reached the foothills of the Neverstone Mountains – the fortress home of the Dwarfs. To all hold and rising tensions the dwarves held for almost two years, but after that short time, a blink of an eye to many, even they began to slip, began to slowly fall. And Time was running out for all races of men of Meadel, their world was ending.

It seemed that the end of the entire world was upon Meadel. The races came together in desperation. Together they conceived a plan to save at least a small portion of their world, and with it themselves.

The Elven and Human mages had worked in those short few years, researching and preparing a new magic to strengthen the wards of Greenholm, to try and keep their sanctuary even as it was being encroached upon by the taint of corruption. At last they had found a spell of protection, one strong enough to hold back even the Dragon King, impenetrable to his forces and corruption. The discovery, however, came too late, Greenholm was all but lost to corruptive magics and the ritual could not be cast on corrupted lands.

The time had come for their last move in the game and with it all the free races joined together, they marched through the burned and dying lands of the Hoblings, winning back those lands through blood and bravery. All joined in that march save a small detachment of noble volunteers who instead moved north again, drawing the Dragon King’s eye and luring his forces to them so that all other peoples may survive.

The greatest remaining mages of all the races stood then on the banks of the Whispermere River, shielded by countless free peoples, using their lives to buy the mages the needed time. The Spell was cast and the Veil rose. A great wall of force stood, separating the South Lands from all the rest of fallen Meadel, cutting this small peninsula from the greater continent, and saving the last of the people’s lives.

The Dragon King and all his armies and all his men could not shatter the wall, could not even breach it, his Southland forces were stranded and scattered on the Southern side of the Veil among the displaced and angry free peoples. The survivors were safe.

In the place where the spell was cast, the site gave birth to a town, Oathbridge, named for the accord all took up and signed. The Humans would take the new western lands of the Peninsula, Elves and Fae would share the midlands and the Dwarves would hold to their Neverstone Mountains as they had in those last few years, the Veil close to their rear – a reminder of what they had done and what threat still lay beyond the Veil.

The Wild Races, as they always had, asked only for the right to travel and for no lands of their own, and this they were freely given.

The Humans divided their land into five portions, imagined borders for the five surviving houses of men.

House Domicile Veneficii would take the lands in the upper westernmost reaches of the Veil, in order to ensure that the magical barrier always stands.

House Skaven would stand as the watchers of the area to the north of the Veil. They took a small piece of land at the Veil’s edge where it was found that the Veil was at its thinnest and it was possible for people who knew how, to cross and come back.

The Sea and its islands belonged to the people of the Talo Da'Lua, their great navy guarding against attack from the waves.

House Corvinus took the lands bordering those of the Elves, the Dwarfs and the Humans and were charged to make sure that the lands and their peoples remained unified should threat ever again arise.

The largest area was given to House Horgus, to build the strength of the Human lands to its former glory, and as the bread basket of the south. This was later found to be mistake as those with too much land and wealth sought to remove the borders and join all humans and houses under their rule. Before the attempt was made, however – by chance, or perhaps the touch of the other houses, Horgus itself split further into the warring factions which still exist today, the united seat of Horgus imploding under the weight of its own petty squabbles.

Until today many speculate on how it came to pass that such a strong nation could simply fall in on itself. Some say that the scholars of Domicile Veneficii cast spells that clouded the minds of Horgus. Some say that Skaven crept in and eliminated the leaders that could keep control of the house. Others talk of Talo Da'Lua giving small factions of Horgus powerful weapons and whispering to them of power. And there are rumours that the messenger birds of Corvinus were seen flying overhead, with Corvinus troops helping small dissident factions fight against the house and win. These, like so many stories in Meadel, were born of course by rumour and whispered words. Perhaps it is for the best that the truth of the matter never be known.

What is truth, however, is the War of Blight is 100 years past. After years of failure, the Dragon King gave up his attempts to breach the wall and for now the people of the Southlands of Meadel are safe. But always we remember the past and always we keep our truth close.

The Dragon King still lives and, as always, is still to be feared.

Our word, Our bond - Sands Motto