History of Altera, as Written by Albareth Destrius

[MRPolo13]

OOC Preface

This book is written by Albareth, and shows his views as an old, bitter man. Any opinions written are entirely his own. Please don’t take this as an attack on anyone specific. I honestly don’t have anything against anyone. This all happened ages ago anyway. This is not what Spear teased at either when talking about history of Hollow World. This is entirely IC, and not OOC. It was also never meant to be unbiased. Consider it a primary source, which can’t really be considered entirely accurate but also might provide some perspective for players that haven’t been on the server at the time. So yeah, enjoy

History of Altera, as Written by Albareth Destrius​

Preface
My father, Lord Polo Destrius-Hawklight, born after the First Cataclysm, who loyally served King Axex since the time when he was still the leader of the Order of the Fallen Radiant, has written many tomes of journals over the centuries that he had the privilege of living through. I myself, without a shadow of arrogance, have been through a lot, as a holy man and a disgraced man. A once great soldier, who led men and women into battle against Demons of Grief, and now just a frail, old man. This is a chronicle of sorts, detailing the history of Altera as seen from the perspective of myself, Albareth Destrius, and my father, Lord Polo Destrius-Hawklight, as we lived through these years, fighting for – and against – Altera.

Chapter 1: The Second Exodus
These chronicles, for rather obvious reasons, paint my father in an at least positive picture. But he wasn’t always a lord, getting his title from King Axex I of Hawklight. In fact, he started as a miner in a small city of Digitus Dei. This was some few hundred years ago, at least, though timekeeping was not as precise back then as we have now. Born to a local blacksmith, my father had a relatively easy early life, though post-cataclysmic Altera was a dangerous place. These dangers brought about an attack from demons one day. The attack wiped out his village, and as far as he knew he was the only one left alive. For weeks he stumbled, until he made it to Port Silver, the bustling capital of the Northern Kingdoms of antiquity. No food was to be made in Port Silver, for Queen Grief attacked it a few days prior. He set sail wherever he could go for free, poor and broken, aged only twenty, though back then age was a lot more loose even on us humankind, which is why my father could live for as long as he did – he must have been about a thousand years old when he died.

He arrived in Digitus Dei. It was a tall tower, with houses floating around it on clouds via magic, as he attests. The town itself was in a valley in the middle of the ocean. Once again, magic allowed it to float even on the mightiest tides that the sea could muster. His story truly began there, though a book might be written on his journey alone. He became a miner and an adventurer, though those two now seem rather far apart from each other. The city’s approach to employment was relatively loose, and the mine was more of a quarry from the implications of the many documents he has drawn up.

​

As you may have guessed, these were the times of turmoil. Queen Grief’s power was at its peak, and Demons would prowl through the countryside. The respite of safety that Digitus Dei provided may have made some lazy, but not my father. He swore to himself that he would fight undead and be a loyal man to the core, a promise that he kept his whole life, and one that has not gone without note. Sokken, the mayor of Digitus Dei and a member of the Honourable Order of the Fallen Radiant, requested that my father be accepted into the order. Lord Axex, the man we know as the King of Hierax now, was happy to oblige. Lord Polo grew in status, but evil was still strong in those times.

A few years went by, with my father learning the intricacies of the sword and of politics. He became a good knight, leading a few charges against the forces of Grief himself, even while suffering from panic attacks every night the Black Moon gloomily rose above the lands, for that is when the village of his youth was destroyed. Though the people of the time tried their best to halt the advance of Grief through the borders, Her evil forces could not be stopped, and Her path was littered with the bodies of many. Even gods’ and beings beyond gods’ powers could not halt Grief, and so the Second Exodus commenced when a great portal opened to let the people escape to a new world, as our kind has been wont to do over the centuries. It was around this time that the Ancient Dwarven race has lost its king, possibly during the wars against Grief, and the Dwarves since were only a minor partner in the politics of Lonmar. A sad end for once mighty Dwarven kingdoms, though to this day their craftsmen and their axemen are renowned all across Altera.

 

[MRPolo13]

Chapter 2: The Wars of Crowns
With new world came new setups. Initially three major powers rose from the ashes: House Lonmar of Stormhold, House Hawklight of Wintermourne, and House August of Heaven’s Reach. Further two houses would later also rise in prevalence: House Arcturus, which was formed from the fanatics of the Golden Crusade, and House Arduin, which was primarily led by – and for – the minority races of Altera, such as Elves or the Nakam.

It quickly became apparent that out of these only one house would stand victorious, and an arms race soon commenced. Hiring skilled engineers, Hawklight could soon field Stormbringer, designed by Kharn Sicarus – a behemoth airship which could fire its massive cannon for miles, and drop bombs upon the enemy. Lonmar’s army became by far the largest in Altera, while August’s navy could blockade any port, including Port Silver, with ease. Arcturus, while smaller than Lonmar, had a legion of extremists, devout to the core. The beginnings of what would turn into a full conflict could be seen, but this conflict was cold for a few decades, which is why the minor parties, Arcturus and Arduin, could gain relative power.

​

It is interesting to note that Draco Lonmar and Axex Hawklight were both once members of the Order of Radiant, and in person were good friends. It was only politics that tore them asunder.

My father’s renown also grew. Not only a hard worker, he also proved to be a natural tactician, and was given a title of Lordship for his services to King Axex. Despite his high status within the house, when Axex first died it was Legion who was named the successor, for better or – far more likely – for worse. House Hawklight, once the primary contestant for winning the crown, fell into disrepair as peasants left the unfertile lands surrounding the house’s lands. Legion turned Wintermourne into his own testing grounds, and Axex was revived to see a once-mighty house in ruin. Despite owning the most land across Altera, only my father’s estates around Marograd and the province of Aeroch Nor were kept in good health. But at last, a leader interested in leading Hawklight arrived. My father has a few choice words about what happened to Hawklight, and I have reserved the stronger opinions to myself as you, good reader, need not see them. The lack of members brought an issue – a lot of land, but not nearly enough people to support it. King Axex decided to form a personal union with House August, forming the beginnings of what would later become House Hierax.

Many historians forget also that, at the time, the Syrien started to rise. The Northern Kingdoms were not yet unified as the Syrien – men and women human in shape, with tails of fish, who lived in the sea, wanted to drown the world by melting the northern ice caps through magic. In the moment he considers his finest, my father stood as the leader of a legion of brave men and women who were fighting to stop the Syrien attacks from drowning the world. Though the Syrien cause was clear, it found many supporters from clearly suicidal people, and so the battle was an uphill one. Despite this the Syrien managed to only sink a few towns in lower grounds before my father, clad in his armour, climbed upon the hill on which the Syrien Queen sat and convinced her to turn away from her evil ways. A peaceful resolution was, at long last, achieved, after months of struggle.

Seeing little chance of winning without many casualties, the union of Hawklight and August decided that it would be best to support King Draco’s claim to the throne in return for concessions which allowed the two houses to become the wealthiest in the realm. The only true opposition to this alliance came from House Arduin, which fruitlessly tried to counter the Dwarves, Hawklight, August and Lonmar forces. Only two open battles took place. In the first, the Arduin forces managed to retreat before greater casualties could be sustained. The second battle took place a few weeks later, and in this battle Arduin was crushed.

Arcturus, seeing what happened to the larger Arduin army, decided to concede before any open battles took place, in a bit to gain concessions similar to Hawklight and August. By the Grace of Gods and Men, King Draco I Lonmar was crowned soon after, bringing about the longest period of peace before the death of corruption.

​

I enter the story here. I was born around the time that King Axex first died, as a bastard child to Lord Polo. Before my father died he ensured my full legitimisation, leaving no other legal heir to inherit his lands. My father died soon after the Wars of the Crowns. At age 17 I inherited his lands. By 18 I sold them. Though you might be critical of my actions, I saw a much greater opportunity in the Church, as a member of the Holy Office of the Inquisition.

 

[MRPolo13]

Chapter 3: The Holy Office
Some people may have the worthless aim of discrediting the work that the Holy Office of the Inquisition has done in the days of its greatness. Even those most staunch critics cannot argue, however, that at its peak the Inquisition made our gods more relevant and more powerful than any other organisation before or since. We have singlehandedly brought many heretics and Darkbloods before the Grey Lady’s throne, and through our doing they could gladly say that their soul had been cleansed through the purity of our fires. We did not ever wish to see people be killed, for that was not the aim of the Office. We wished for people to amend their ways and seek salvation through the Divine. But alas, some will, as I am sure, shout of the ‘injustices’ committed by the Office. The Inquisition was not without its flaws either, and I wholeheartedly agree that the reforms attempted by me came about far too late, but it was the closest we mortals ever got to understanding gods.

I was eighteen when I joined the holy office. Back then it was a small organisation, which has slowly started to gain prominence under Arbiter Tillien. He soon took an interest in me, as a keen learner and a loyal follower, which allowed me to soon become his right hand. What many fail to realise that our mission was also to protect us, the mortal kind, from the gods. To this end our first tasks involved securing the ancient God swords, with which champions chosen by dieties centuries before could have special powers. You, dear reader, are probably aware of Corruption of Harateth. Let it be known that, had the Holy Office been strong, this would have never taken place. But foresight was never the strong suit of those who despised us, which might explain why most of them are dead.

The primary objectives of the Inquisitorium were thus: to protect mortal men from deities, to defend the Holy Faith against heresy and to hunt down Darkbloods – people tainted by Grief’s influence, who were at their core evil and were Grief’s agents. To this end it employed the most loyal and most experienced agents Altera could ever see. I have met Katherina in this time, my now-wife, who was the mother of Selena, the Oracle who could speak with the gods.

Tillien passed away when I was around twenty, leaving no one to stay behind. I consulted the Oracle, and through her voice the gods chose me to become their representative in Altera, the Arbiter of the Gods… I was a loyal servant, but never have I expected to become one of the most powerful people in Altera, and merely at twenty. Thankfully many good and loyal men have made up the Holy Office, men on whom I could depend to death, literally. Gelyk, Syr, and Septimus to name but a few. These people would later help me once the world foolishly turned against the Inquisition. I digress, however.

I set about reforming the Office. More rigorous training produced the greatest fighters and the greatest thinkers Altera has ever seen. Though small, the office would soon become the most powerful organisation in the world, even after Queen Leminth was chosen by the ‘gods’.

​

This needs to be discussed in further detail. King Draco died after a few years in power. His reign was peaceful, and reconsolidated most of the factions around a single crown. He balanced the intricacies of religion and whims of the people well, but ultimately age got to him. Now picture this, if you will: The King dies, with a fairly clear line of succession, he had a daughter, and then the leaders of the houses which supported him, such as House Hawklight, August, Dwarven Kingdoms and more. With complete disregard for this, the ‘gods’ choose a woman from Arduin, a house which fell into utter obscurity after the war. The woman was not even a proper leader of the house, and I urge you to find any papers that show her as anything other than a distant relative to the deceased leader of Arduin. The fact of the matter is that she came pretty much out of nowhere, backed only by one person: Naelwyn. Naelwyn who we know used and continues to use magic. I propose therefore that in a bid to take the crown, Naelywn created an illusion of the gods to trick us all. This would not be outside of his capabilities. As we know both Legion and him have created ungodly monstrosities such as a ship made of steel, which rolled on the land. They cooperated closely, and always seemed to have a liking for taking over the world.

Despite the possibility of Leminth being fake, she began her reign relatively strongly. She was nowhere near as experience as King Draco, but tried her best to reconsolidate power around herself. The Inquisition was more than willing to cooperate with her. Though I have always distrusted her, she seemed reasonable enough to work with us too. Things quickly started to take a turn for the worse, however.

It started relatively innocently. Riddleport, a city filled with the biggest scum of Altera, was hiding Darkbloods and Heretics within its borders. The Office tried to be reasonable about the whole ordeal, to the point where without my explicit permission Inquisitors were not allowed to enter the wretched city. The last thing that I wanted was to have a civil war break out as a result of some petty beggars and thieves. But said petty beggars and thieves found support in Arcturus, a faction which should be remembered by history as completely treacherous and without a shadow of honour. Things escalated, and while I was away from Port Silver the cathedral was stormed and taken by force, marking the fall of the Inquisition.

I learned of this while returning to Port Silver, and realising what has happened I quickly turned my horse and escaped eastwards, to Septimus’s mansion. He housed me, glad to see me alive, and we began a plan to bounce back. Soon the other Inquisitors made their way east, to the Lawgiver’s estate, and the plan began to take shape.

We first consulted the Sisterhood of Shalherana, to ensure that, upon death, I would be revived. Having received their agreement, our aim was to clear the names of my fellow Inquisitors. To this end Septimus suggested that they should ‘arrest’ me, and bring me before the queen, who was happy to betray her earlier promises and side with the scum of Riddleport and Arcturus, showing her true colours. I was brought before the court and sentenced to having my name erased from all books and me becoming ‘unnamed’ and then killed. The plan was successful in its entirety. I was resurrected to the awaiting Inquisitors, who were freed from their oaths.

Arcturus soon grew arrogant. They have declared war on followers of Jishrim and other evil gods, showing utter disregard for balance of powers in the Divine. Ignorance marked Arcturus’s short reign, as they soon picked a target of Salt’s Ridge, an island north of Port Silver, where many Jishrim followers have taken refuge. I sailed there a few weeks before the attack, and prepared defences so thorough, that when Arcturians attempted to break into the city they were met with opposition so fierce that they could have never stood a chance. I got the leader of Arcturus to surrender, and we returned to Port Silver for him to vouch for me and have my name returned.

The latter was not accomplished. Leminth once more showed her weak skin by claiming that the punishment was just, but that did not matter in the slightest. I was once more a free man. In a sense it is ironic that I write Leminth’s name in a book signed by me. She is dead. The leaders and most townspeople of Riddleport are also dead. Arcturus is either a joke or something that you use to scare children. Darkbloods have been entirely wiped off the face of Altera. And yet I remain, with my name and titles.

 

[MRPolo13]

Chapter 4: The Grief
It was apparent that the final war against Grief was approaching. Either Her or Altera would come to an end. Corruption came from the South, slowly creeping through the forests and deserts, killing all in its wake and leaving only fire and pain. Another Exodus saved most of us from Corruption, but we all knew that a proper fight had to break out.

Carpenters were hired to produce siege weapons. I enlisted, despite Leminth’s hatred towards me, because I can put aside past differences to protect all that I have ever loved and fought for. The largest armies Altera has ever seen went back through the portal to fight.

I myself have fought bravely, personally killing one of Grief’s demons, who was pinned down by my comrades as I stabbed my sword through its monstrous face. It was also entirely through my doing that a second demon was captured. Instead of fighting it I have talked with it, calmed everyone down and within merely an hour of talking I managed to trick it into its own capture. This huge opportunity was unfortunately entirely wasted by Leminth’s torturers. Those bandits had no finesse, and I watched them enrage the demon and lash out at soldiers before it was slain.

We fought to save Port Silver, where the Stormbringer was used for the first and last time in anger, destroying a massive monstrum that only the Evil Queen’s magic could concoct. The mightiest airship in the history of Altera perished with the monster, but it tore us a way towards Queen Grief’s main forces, and so its sacrifice was not in vain.

Victory after victory we tore our way closer towards Queen Grief’s main forces. The battle took place on a plain, near an old fortress somewhere in the south. We were grossly outnumbered, but thankfully each man could probably fight off five or so undead. The only problem was the towering skeletal beasts which with a single swipe of their mighty arms could mortally wound three or so men. As we cut our way ever closer towards Queen Grief, our forces were suddenly supported by a mighty roar from behind, and a portal appeared, through which a steel behemoth built in secret by Legion started to slowly crawl forth against Queen Grief herself. It fired its cannons, time after time striking at Her forces, and with it the Queen was done for. The ancient gods spoke before us, mortals, deciding that the Queen needed to perish, and so it was that their combined powers destroyed Her once and for all.

For those who believe that Leminth died defending the realm, as some might say, I would once again say that it was a trick. She was terminally ill, which she confessed before me in secret, seemingly seeking forgiveness from me. She had no more than a few months, maybe a year of life left in her, and I would not be surprised if her death was a cover up of some sort to allow her to die in peace away from the rather stressful and utterly sinful life as the queen. At this point one should remember she had quite the number of expert healers, so my beliefs may hold some water. Either way, Leminth officially died not long after Queen Grief’s demise, being the second – and last – monarch of all of Northern Kingdoms.

​

 

[MRPolo13]

Chapter 5: The Corruption
I must confess that during this time period I myself have had little care for the world. I was tired. The queen’s petty little ideas like removing my name from documents finally no longer mattered. The corruption came a few years after Exodus. The final mark left by Queen Grief. This time it was the Gods that were corrupted, and we would have to fight once more, this time in our permanent homes. We first stumbled on Elementals at the time too – shifty monsters which claim to come to us in good will, but only seem to bring about their own gain. If Shoreless truly is as good as she claims, why was Port Silver completely destroyed by her? Simply, she does not care about us, and everything that she does to help us simply furthers her own agenda, whatever it may be. The recent events should be proof of that, really.

People who were once law-abiding citizens would find themselves corrupted and twisted. Scardrac, who may not have been a great man – or even a good man for that matter – easily succumbed to the corruption. Athryl – a scribe and a good man, on the other hand, was also influenced despite his generally good heart. This was a dark time, when people who were once dead seemed to come back to life, and Corruption took even Gods, such as Billworth and Harateth. I shall not dwell on it too much, for this is still fresh in many people’s memory, and my own impact in this was relatively small despite the fact that corruption destroyed the Cathedral, where I lived at the time. I took part in some of the battles, but my distrust towards Shoreless (distrust that I might add is entirely reasonable) meant that I preferred to fight alone, as opposed to partake in the battles that Alterans found themselves in.

And this is where we stand. I am too old now to have taken an active role in fighting back the Undead. A wound sustained in a duel has damaged my leg, and I more often find myself using my cane. I have not got the vitality of Elves, but as long as there is life in me I will inform the people of Altera of its troubled past, wherever and whenever possible.

Albareth Destrius

 

[BoredBrit]

Draco didnt die? He abdicated the throne? (I'd tag faelin but that'd be a futile effort.)

 

[MRPolo13]

Draco didnt die? He abdicated the throne? (I'd tag faelin but that'd be a futile effort.)

Consider it a primary source, which can’t really be considered entirely accurate

For Albareth that took place... 30 odd years ago. Things can get pretty hazy.

 

[PitaChipBoi]

obligatory overused meme