Chronicles of the World of DaoTyr

Aelar and Erdan have now spent over a month in the Fay people’s camp – a place called Thym Rek – a large trade-meet of mercantile caravans, backed by a militia of approximately five hundred warriors. Both the bard and the warrior realize that since emerging from the chronomantic portal, they are now in Dao Tyr’s distantpast. Where there companions, the wizard Thaylinn and the warpriest Rhoen are, they could not say. The two, now armed with the knowledge that they, simply by their presence, are introducing revolutionary ideas onto a culture that has yet to even establish civilization. Perhaps as a gift of the gods – who can say – the two are able to understand and communicate with the ancient fay, as if there is a bridge of pure thought between minds born over such vastly disparate oceans of time.

All this is not to say this culture is not ancient. It is. Its magics are arcane, but not rooted in the written word. Its gods are divine, but struggle to emerge from proto-like projections of their future identities. In fact, the Fay people, now called the Eladrin are reeling from the recent cosmologic catastrophe that divided them as a people from their origin as Raelfaen. The Seladrine, who more resemble their Raelfaen antecedents, have departed this terrestrial world for astral courts in the heavens. The Eladrin who remain, are now a people bereft and divided – lost in the violent wilderness. The Eladrin refer to the travelers from the future as Madoru, the ceramic fey.

The Queens of Thym Rek – the shadow witches – are Fatale and Akadala. Fatale is protected by her ever-present fire hound and commands tremendous respect, speaking in resonant tones from under her low-drawn hood. Her sister, Akadala is a shape-shifting, thorn-sword wielding, snake priestess whose personal motives would never dare to be publically questioned. Up until two weeks ago, the trade-meet of Thym Rek had existed for a thousand years at the base of an enormous, glass mountain called Akta, the Bite. Then, in a sudden, violent, geophysical storm, the mountain was annihilated from existence – perhaps at the whim of the gods, or from some other terrible source. For the first time the Fay people were not isolated from their ancient enemies: the seven tribes of Blood – the Troglodytes of Ogremoch.

Under the shrewd leadership of the warking Kazzay’et, the united tribes of blood soundly defeated the rhino-mounted fay knights of Thym Rek. Under a red moon, Kazzay’et, leads his armies of troglodyte warriors into Thym Rek, along with a hoard of Belgoimerchants and a brigade of Anakoreslaves. Fatale and Akadala are placed in chains and most of the Eladrin fay knights are ritually sacrificed to Ogremoch, lord of the blood-soaked earth. The trade-meet is now a place of ritual combat and Kazzay’et refers to his lord, a hideous creature lord named the Gaj, who has yet to be seen by the heroes. Fatale is able to sneak away from her captors and tell the two heroes, who are held in a wooden cabin awaiting a pending trial – that the portal is activating again. It’s risky, but under the upcoming green moon, it may be that an escape can be held. If indeed, Thaylinn and Rhoen, can be made whole in this reality, through the Eye of Corollon, as the portal is called, and the team can make it through to the Transport Stone, the Ymothin, on the other side of Thym Rek, freedom may be had.

The Ymothinwill transport them, in theory, to an ancient Raelfaen university – Ekshuy– where the now-united team may or may not find their ultimate destiny in this ancient land of War.