Before we begin, you ought to know that the world you are about to enter into is so very far removed from the world your are familiar with, that it would be impossible to give every fantastic detail all at once. It would take altogether too long to explain the wingspan of a jynx, or the top speed of a talard, or the terror of running into a grimis of phelgan, before our great tale had even begun. It would be likewise difficult attempting to detail the founding of the five kingdoms and their peculiar traditions. The same would be true recounting the history of the great weavers and the role their magics played in the formation of this great and wild country. In the stead of these introductions, I shall endeavor to explain as the need arises. This is in the hope that you would not become so immediately overwhelmed by this wonderful and dangerous place. With all this is mind, shall we begin?

Many years ago, the last of the great weaver’s of the land, Eeshak, crafted the very greatest work of his long life. In thanks to king Eton of Eldaren for saving his life, Eeshak used his gifts as a magic weaver and made for the king, the Ariochmar: the armor of kings. With this mighty gift the king went from powerful to unbeatable. The armor’s famed prowess was unrivaled. Each piece was imbued with special magics which only Eeshak could have formed. With this mighty gift, the king was finally able to subdue the five kingdoms under one rule, including the dark island of Meremoth where the dread king Daegan ruled. He even held outposts in Phelgan, where no one claimed rulership, save for the horrid beasts that dwelled in that awful place.

Eeshak was proud of his work and of his friend Eton, for with his gift, the king was able to usher in an era of peace. However, the old weaver was about to learn a hard lesson: peace his hard to win and easy to lose.

The great hall in the land of Eldaren was a filled with the clamor and chorus of celebration. Great Lords and Ladies feasted at tables and danced to the traditional musics of Eldaren, all in honor of king Eton and his wife, Fara. In a space between songs, the people had quieted as the king stood and took his chance to address the crowd.

“My people!”

The king’s voice was warm and commanding and everyone quieted and turned when they heard the sound, like sheep to a shepherd.

“My dear people. My brave and cunning warriors. My devoted and loyal subjects. Long have we sought for a day such as this. Through your courage and bravery, we have finally ushered in a time free of bloodshed, free of fear, and full of peace and wealth!”

A chorus of cheers rushed through the hall. Eton’s words filled the people with pride and joy.

“It is not lost upon me that a great price was paid to bring us here and we remember our fallen brothers and sisters this night”

At this the king took out a knife and spilled a little wine on it’s edge, a symbol of respectful mourning to great warriors. In doing this, the king was showing his respect for the warriors that did not come home and their families. The people were somber as he did so.

“I am also not left unawares as to the great responsibility it is to maintain such peace. I am here to serve you as best as I know how. On my life, I will see to it that this era is prolonged as I live and breathe and ever after!”

A great and heavy cheer rang out a second time. The king was not finished and raised his hands to quiet his people. He motioned for his wife to join him as he stood. She looked up at him and smiled. The two were as close as could be as king and queen and that was evident even in how they looked at each other. The people loved their queen as much as their king. With the queen now standing by his side, the king looked back to his people, beaming with joy.

“Now Queen Fara and I wish to-“

Before the King could finish his statement, he was interrupted by the slamming open of the doors to the hall, followed by the fearful cries of a young servant boy.

“they’ve taken it! It’s gone!”

The hall began to stir at the commotion and guards rushed at the lad to halt him. The king raised his hands to stop the soldiers. The boy rushed to the king, still crying out.

“Be still boy”, the king said firmly, trying to calm the frantic servant, “Who took what?”

“Bandits! They’ve taken the Ariochmar!”

The king was stunned. At first he did not believe it, but this boy was frantic and the fear in his eyes was enough to convince Eton that something grave had truly taken place. He had peace treaties with the five kingdoms. Who would dare break it? How had they entered the kingdom unnoticed? Were the bandits under orders or acting alone? How could it be possible when the armor was so tightly guarded? More questions than these racked Eton’s brain as he rushed through his keep, toward the armor’s secure vault. He turned a corner and to his horror he saw his armor guard, or rather what was left of them. The dozen bodies lay in pools of blood, many stab wounds in their backs. This had not been an honorable battle. These men had been caught unawares, but how could they have been so surprised and overwhelmed if not by a large group? Behind the brutal sight of his slain guards was the three foot thick vault door, opened wide. Inside, an empty chamber. The Ariochmar had indeed be taken.

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The King rallied his men and set off for the bandits immediately. He tracked them on horseback to the border of the desert kingdom of Tunaan. The theives came in view after the passed the border to their sister country. They were close on the heels of the thieves when the bandits headed into a rocky canyon that was more maze than landscape. The high walls of the canyon constantly twisted and split into various forks. The king thought the bandits were simply trying to evade him, but too late did he realize the truth, he was headed straight for an ambush. As they rounded a corner, they encountered the honor guard of Tunaan, elite fighters of the kingdom. A small army was stationed inside a wide opening in the maze of rock, archers perched on the canyon ridge.

Surprisingly enough the thieves looked as shocked as the kings men that the Tunaan soldiers were waiting for them.

A battle soon commenced. Swords clashed. Shields bent. The sounds of pain rang forth as man after man was was brought to a swift end. When the dust settled and the clamor stopped, bodies lay in heaps. Only a few of the king’s guard remained in the canyon. As they searched the bodies, they halted and their hearts dropped. There, in the piles of bodies and pools of blood, was their king. The great king Eton of Eldaren was dead and the Ariochmar had been spirited away by men of Tunaan.

The men mourned their king as they shouldered his body and set forth to bring it back to Eldaren. Their mourning turned to despair when they arrived and heard that not only their king had died, but in the space of time when then king had gone, the castle in Eldaren had been invaded. A small group of well concealed men had stolen into the kingdom with a single minded goal. The people, beyond despairing, soon learned that their beloved queen had been kidnapped and was lost to them.

Intermingled with great tragedy was uproarious confusion. It was all too fast. One day a victorious and steadfast kingdom. The next, a land on the brink of collapse.

In an attempt to rally the people’s hopes and preserve stability a group of honored men, along with Eeshak, banded together and formed a council. After some little deliberation, the lost king’s closest advisor, Cyrus, was quickly named king in place of Eton.

Cyrus, setting forth for revenge concerning the king’s death, soon discovered that the bandits of the armor were not of Tunaan, but the far ocean kingdom of Marien. It was discovered when a traitor in the castle named Torich was found and confessed that he let in the band of men and lead them to the armor. He was beaten for information and then executed the next day. The land of Marien then was the first offender. However, it was clear that Tunaan now held the Ariochmar and there was not a moment to lose. Cyrus sent a great detachment of men against Tunaan to retrieve the lost armor, hopefully before anyone could dawn it. Eldaren steadied themselves and prepared for war with Tunaan. What they were not prepared for was the forces of the Dark island of meremoth, nor were they expecting to encounter a great host of Marien. It would seem that word of the stolen armor had spread across the lands with greater speed than should have been possible. It seemed that only Onterrin and the unruled lands of Phelgan did not join the conflict.

Thus began the Arochm, the great war of the kings. Each kingdom striving against the other for territory and for the legendary armor that would bring about ultimate victory for any who owned it. Years passed and as they did, the armor was separated as pieces were stolen and recovered and stolen once again, all by different men of different kingdoms. It began to spread further and further apart.

All seemed to be chaos and darkness. For the most part the kingdoms were equal in numbers. However, they were not equal in power. It was not long into the conflict when the dreaded king Daegan of Meremoth swept through the kingdoms with a fury. He seemed as unbeatable as the Ariochmar itself. It seemed as though he would be the victor of the war, with or without the armor. That is, until the great weaver Eeshak intervened.

In a desperate attempt to stop Daegan, Eldaren and Tunaan took arms together to stand against him with a temporary truce. The three armies met in a desert plane in Tunaan. The two countries against the one should have at the least leveled the balance of power. Oh, how wrong they were. Daegan’s armies hardly needed to do anything. Daegan was an army all on his own, he tore through man after man with swift and brutal cunning. Just as it seemed the battle would be decided, Eeshak appeared amid the fray in a great flash of light. He directly confronted Daegan.

Hope was stirred in the warriors of Eldaren and Tunaan as Eeshak began a flurry of attacks, both material and magical. However, for reasons inexplicable, Daegan was able to fend off even Eeshak’s great power. After a long series of interchanged blows, Eeshak managed to gain the upper hand. Seeing an opportunity, Eeshak used his power to put an end to Daegan once and for all. With his mighty skill he bound Daegan to the lowest dungeon in the core of the earth. It was a magic that had never been used before or since. After Eeshak wove reality to fit his design, a great unearthly cry came from Daegan, and he began to dissolve into a purple ash that glowed and seemed to be sucked into cracks in the earth.

The battle stopped as all turned to watch the event. Daegan was defeated, imprisoned in the lowest pit, never to return.

After Daegan was sealed, the joined forces of Eldaren and Tunaan put Meremoth to the sword. Without Daegan, the dark island forces stood no chances and they all fell. When the battle was won, the cheers lasted for some time. However, Eldaren and Tunaan broke their truce, neither holding any fondness for the other. Though they did not fight. It seemed that after so many battles and losses, the armies of the war torn lands were too tired to continue fighting. Each retreated back to their homelands.

The war yielded only pain as its result. The beloved King and Queen of Eldaren were gone. Each kingdom suffered great losses. Eeshak, having suffered great wounds within and without, died not long after his fight with Daegan. Though not before using his weaver’s power one last time. He wove a destiny to the Ariochmar and tied it too the words of a prophesy that he bound to the armor he had made. What the prophesy was is now lost to history. It was a final hope he bestowed to the five countries as his dying gift. Though the prophesy was lost, rumors say that the words were written down on the pages of one of his books in his watchtower. Also lost to history.

Though the fighting had stopped. The blood was worse than bad between the kingdoms. Everyone embittered against the other for wrongs and insults committed during the war of kings.

Many years have passed since the Arochm. Things have settled between the kingdoms. It is not the peace that the great king Eton dreamed of, but it is a type of peace. However, as we have already seen in history…peace is so easily broken.