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When the Seventh Kingdom is founded, the darkness will end and the Golden Age will begin anew!
–Necronomicon, the Tome of Ordeals
“…The Vallah had the battle won, though lost did they their magicks
Man and Beast for ever bound in curse most fell and tragic…”
The five-fold Race of Beastlings was crafted in an era when Beasts, Spirits and Men were at peace with one another. The Totem spirits of the Hound, the Bird, the Cat, the Bear, and the Snake were bound to several tribes of Men and gifted them with the ability to perform supernatural feats of prowess. But that time is over; the veil between Aetherworld and Midworld has been raised anew and those Beastlings that remain are possessed of a dread curse. The Beastlings of today must learn to control their bestial wrath… or fall forever in accursed madness.
“Of iron, stone and burning lake
the bones of Wyrm did Maker take
to sculpt a strong and vital form
and thus was made the true First-Born.”
Built for resilience, crafting, and war, the Dwarves of Midworld are known for their love of stone and things that last; for their passion for brewing and feasts; and for the unrelenting, unceasing feuds that divide their people. Only the Dwarves of smoke-covered Iron City do not dwell overlong in grudges, having replaced the sin of Wrath with that of Greed. There is no Race as stalwart and as driven as that of the Dwarves. And if the Seventh Kingdom is to be forged, it can only be done with the iron will of the Dwarves behind it.
“…and thus did they descend from celestial Overworld unto the realms of Midworld, forsaking the gossamer veils of the spirit to donne flesh corporeal and all the passions that dwelt within…”
The Race of Elves claim their origins from the lofty realm of Overworld, from the Archons who descended at their Gods’ behest and from the fabled Sun Empire that was sundered when the Elves were split unto three different lineages: the Silver Elves, the Wild Elves and the Twilight Elves. Each lineage has their own unique talents but all of Elvenkind is possessed of heavenly grace, ethereal beauty and an innate aptitude for the arts, be they magical, spiritual or martial. And the prophesied Golden Age can only mean one thing: the Sun Empire reforged anew.
“Three eyes, blue skin, stature small
Sharpened teeth for when you fall.”
The Gnomes of Midworld hail from the ethereal realms of Aetherworld, from the deep within dream-misted marches of that Plane. Mighty in spirit but weak in flesh, the Dwellers in Dream are easily recognizable by their blue skins and the gem-like Kha that dot their faces. Woe to those that would treat a Gnome ill with little fear for retribution, for the Gnomes themselves say thusly: “A slit throat bleeds as much when cut by small knife or great sword…”
“Who was he that opened the gates of the Vaults, Master? Who was he that had strength enough to rend the veil? Who was he that wrought this fate upon the world?
Of his face we did not see. Of his name we do not know. But learn this, young one: of the Race of Man was he, born to great power, born to high wisdom and to blind, accursed folly. ‘Twas the last that shadowed the world and made it as hard a place as it is now.”
There are none among the other Races that have tasted to the height of glory and the dregs of depravity besides the Race of Men. The Empire of Wyrd, the greatest of Empire of Humanity, united Midworld and left it in ruin. Man and Woman have wrought shadow and light, chaos and order, to a world that bears the marks of their wisdom and their folly. But there is hope: it is said that when the Seventh Kingdom is built, a golden age will rise with it. And the only Race foolhardy enough to try and keep trying is the same Race that might destroy the world in its attempts.
“Consort not with the Daemon. Fell, fleeting power is husbanded by only eternal damnation – of self and of all who bear the blood of the damned…”
The three kinds of Nightkin were crafted by the ambition of Men, the hubris of Elves, and the conquest of Trolls. Thus were wrought the Cambion, the Gorgon, and the Minotaur – the bitter fruits of dealing with the Daemon. Yet those who are born bathed in dark blood need not follow their lineage to dark ends. The Seventh Kingdom is a time and a place for those who hunger for righteousness and want for freedom.
“For the Brute, learning
For the Wrathful, discipline
For the Hungry, restraint.”
There are many different kinds of Troll that dwell in the wilds of Midworld but there exist only one kind that possesses the capacity to see beyond their blood-thirst, savagery, and ravenous hunger. They are the Grey Trolls, of the tribes Tulken and Grellken; though they are the smallest Race of Trolls, it is they who have prospered while their brethren wallow in mud and blood. These Trolls and none else are welcome to join in the Seventh Kingdom –so long as they keep their hunger in check.