Sallitia: Age of War

Prologue- A brief history of the elves in Sallitia

Long ago, in an age when human cities had yet to mar the untouched expanse of the world, magical creatures thrived in lands unknown and unseen by mortal eyes. But as human kingdoms grew and spread like wildfire, these beings—elves, faeries, dwarves, and more—realized they needed a sanctuary. They needed a realm hidden from human eyes, pure and untouched, where their magic could flourish freely and untainted.

The elves, the most ancient, beautiful, and wise of all the magical races, rose to the call for refuge. Led by their noble king, Thranduil, they set sail from the shores of the Undying Lands. Their journey was treacherous, crossing wild seas and passing through perilous mists that stretched beyond the reach of sunlight. After days of enduring fierce storms, they finally arrived at a dark, barren land. The very air seemed poisoned, weighed down by a sinister presence that lay heavily over the desolate landscape.

In whispers, they learned of the dark wizard Egeldor—a name that struck fear even in the bravest of elven hearts. Egeldor was once a powerful mage, but he had fallen to dark magic, twisting his soul with cruelty and hatred. His influence had plunged the land into a state of perpetual shadow; forests were reduced to withered skeletons of trees, rivers were poisoned, and the land was littered with bones of creatures long dead. For the elves, surrendering to this darkness was never an option.

“We cannot let such a place continue to suffer.” king Thranduil declared, his voice resolute. His people rallied behind him, their hearts ablaze with courage. And so, the elves went to war.

The battles against Egeldor’s forces were brutal and bloody, stretching on for months that felt like lifetimes. Dark creatures summoned by Egeldor prowled the fields, from twisted hounds to serpentine monsters with venomous fangs. But the elves were skilled in both magic and combat, their arrows piercing through shadows, their chants countering dark spells. Slowly, with each skirmish, they pushed Egeldor and his minions back. In a climactic battle under a sky torn by lightning, king Thranduil himself faced Egeldor. Their magic clashed, lighting up the night with blinding flashes until finally, with a powerful incantation, Thranduil cast Egeldor out of the land forever.

As Egeldor’s darkness lifted, the land transformed. Rivers flowed with clear, fresh water, and the earth, once blackened, began to sprout life. The forests were reborn, growing lush and green, and animals returned to reclaim their homes. Grateful for the chance to start anew, Thranduil named the land Sallitia, meaning “New Light” in the elven tongue.

The elves established themselves in a vast forest to the south and built a grand city, Hisidore, which soon earned the name "The jewel of the forest." Hisidore was a place of wonder—a city woven seamlessly into the trees, with crystal-clear streams running through its streets and towers built from white stone that gleamed like stars in the night. Other magical creatures, from faeries to centaurs and talking beasts, soon followed and settled in Sallitia, drawn by the peace and beauty that the elves had created. All of these creatures recognized king Thranduil as their ruler, and with open hearts, they pledged loyalty to him and his descendants.

In gratitude for Thranduil’s heroism, the dwarven smiths, who were renowned for their skill, forged a legendary weapon for him—a sword they named Athame. Forged in the heart of an ancient volcano, Athame was imbued with powerful magic that allowed it to always return to its wielder. It was said that the blade shimmered with the light of a hundred stars, symbolizing hope and protection. Thranduil accepted the gift with pride, promising to wield it in defense of his people and his newfound land.

Centuries passed, and Sallitia thrived under the wise rule of Thranduil’s descendants. The treasures of the land grew—rare gemstones, precious metals, enchanted relics—and with them grew the legends of Sallitia’s prosperity. But as with all treasures, such wealth did not go unnoticed. Word of Sallitia’s bounty spread, reaching the ears of a terrible menace: the dragons of the north.

These dragons were no ordinary beasts. They were ancient, intelligent creatures with an insatiable lust for gold and precious stones. Driven by greed, they stormed into Sallitia, leaving trails of destruction in their wake as they razed villages and hoarded the kingdom’s wealth. The current ruler, king Eburon, knew he could not let the dragons claim his people’s hard-earned peace. He led his armies into battle, hoping to drive the dragons away once and for all.

In his absence, his wife, queen Laralythia, took command of the city of Hisidore. Though young, she possessed a mind as sharp as any blade and was deeply respected by the people. She turned to the White Council—a gathering of Sallitia’s most powerful wizards and witches, guardians of knowledge and ancient magic—for advice. Together, they wove enchantments to shield Hisidore from dragon fire and protect the vulnerable from the dragons’ wrath. Yet, even as she ruled with strength and wisdom, Laralythia bore a secret—she was with child, carrying the kingdom’s heir.

Meanwhile, Eburon and his warriors waged a fierce war against the dragons. It was a hard-won victory; the dragons, though defeated, left scars on the land and its people. During the final battle, Eburon was gravely injured, his wounds inflicted by magical flames that burned hotter than ordinary fire. Though his healers used powerful spells to seal the wounds, they could not erase them completely—the dragon fire left a mark on his soul.

Upon his return, weary but victorious, Eburon was greeted with joyous news. His queen had given birth to a son, prince Alvanar, the heir to Sallitia. All across the land, people celebrated both the defeat of the dragons and the birth of a new prince, seeing it as a sign that Sallitia’s future was bright and secure.

But unknown to the kingdom, in the shadows, a new evil was stirring.