The Three Kingdoms [under edit]

Part One:Beginings

     In the old days, there were four powerful races.  the dragons, feirce and proud.  the humans, the griffens, and the pheonixes.  It wasn't long before they fell to war with one another.  First it was the Frost Pheonixes of the Frozen North, then with them, the dragons allied themselves.  The humans recognized the growing threat, and hesitantly allied with the griffins.  The two armies clashed on a fifty mile plain in the eastern continent, and for five years they wounded one another, neither seeing the fault in themselves.  The griffins withdrew, and then the Frost Pheonixes all but died out...the last fleeing in hopes of saving her kind.  With the loss of a mighty race, the others came to recognize their errors and mistakes.

     The eastern continent was divided up amongst the three dragon kings, the west lay wait for the humans, the throghetta flourished by the hand of the mysterious races, and the Frozen North, or the 'Dinevah Yivhen' as the dragons called it, was left largly unpopulated.  The last of the great Pheonixes settled southwest, bursting into flames of icy blue to blazing red.  They shed their frozen feathers and began again, always remembering the Frost Pheonixes who led them to where they are, and bestowed apon them nobility of the finest kings.

     In the early years of dragon history, there were three kings. They fought for land, and they fought for controll over the elements. Water, fire, and air. The ice kingdom fought hard for the Dinevah Yivhen...or the frozen north, the middle kingdom fought for the vast expanse of territory in the middle regions, and the western kingdom fought for peace and unity. War raged for many years, or so the tales suggest, untill finally, the kings all came together. There they found peace and harmony, each got what they wished for, yet they all made sacrifices. The kings returned to their kingdoms and ruled as they saw fit. they ruled for 237 years, and in that time, nature flourished.

     One thousand years later, in the draconic year 1177, the Dinevah Yivhen divided and fell apon rough times. Two kings ruled, one, king Darien, fought for unity. The other, king Eldenor, fought for power. Thus began the Ice War. The agreement made by the founding kings called the other kingdoms to the aid of Darien, in persuit of casting out the tyrany. And they came, and they fought, and they displayed honor and bravery beyond measure. Sargon, Darien, and Glenn forced Eldenor into a stalemate, but in a fatal flaw in their calculations, Glenn was brutally murdered. Eldanor began to advance, he attacked Sargon and the two fought long and hard, but Sargon too, lost his life. His string broke, and his stars faded. Then Darien fought. He fought for generatios, he fought for freedom, and he fought for life. Nobody knew what took place that night, but Darien emerged victorious. After establishing organization and peace, he flew out into the land to fulfill his duty. He appointed two worthy successors of Glenn and Sargon. To rule the West, he found Valkrym, brave, and sharp. To rule the East, he found Nægling, cunning and sly. Then Darien returned to the North to rule in peace and prosperity. From the time of their appointment, they held an annual meeting to ensure that a king would never again sucumb to the grips of evil. That is what happened in the old days.

Unfortunately the no one could ever really eradicate evil.  Nægling fell, he descended into a mad fury of hatred and anguish.  He enslaved the free population and poisoned the land

King Valkrym soon fell in to madness in the recent years, his only son was cast away to prevent him from claiming the throne.

Darien could not fight alone against two growing threats, all he could hope was for the heir to the throne to rise up against them.  And so it was, the young heir rounded up a small group from a distant land to slowly strike back.  And so history repeated itself, another bloody battle, another story of hate and evil, but maybe, this time good will follow.  For in the wake of death and destruction, good things often rise up.

It was difficult, but the heir was finally able to convince the Phoenix army of his identity, connection as the rightful heir to the throne, and to accompany him on what they called, a suicide conquest. They travelled back across the ocean, only stopping when their wings no longer supported them, their eyes transfixed on their goal. At last the border of the kingdom came into view, the land was eerie quiet and filled with smoke, signs of war were evident. The dragon couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he looked upon his war torn home.

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