Once upon an age gone by, there arrived a person who would shape the face of the world and found the First Kingdom. A mighty warrior he was, come to conquer the frontier lands from ancient Norr, the bygone world of our progenitors. The new lands were a wild country, crowned with ice and snow. The Primus spent his first night in blizzard winds, built the old cabin on the shores of the Still Lake. It was small, barely a shack sized enough for his bed, but it would endure many generations. With stone and wood, the Primus filled the dwelling with his trapping and a chest of the spoils of war. Many nights he roamed the taiga, but the trees were so thick around him that the song of his axe could not stir the entire forest. He found caves in the night and found many foes with ease. All but one. In the dark of moonless forest, there came a challenge, and Hadrade, the first ruler, did himself honour by meeting it. His honour cost him his life and Hadrade was slain in combat. Never was such an enemy seen nor fought a second time by his descendants.
Yet, Hadrade did beget another. His son, the second of his name, lived twice the length of his father. He lived for a time in the wild, gathering to him the wealth of the region. He travelled beyond the taiga and into wild lands that, since Hadrade II, have remained undisturbed. He brought back fine, foreign wood and goods that enriched the holdings of these lands. He then set himself the task of building a great barrow to protect the spirit of his dad unto eternity. This work was built on the sands where the primus was slain, in the Silent Desert where even the blizzard winds dare not intrude. The details surrounding the sealing of the tomb and Hadrade the Builder's death are in debate, but it is believed that he saw his project finished, before he expired himself at the hands of an enemy. His grave names him as Hadrade the Builder.
Unlike Hadrade II however, his son took little time in designing his father's grave. In a cave behind the primus Hadrade's barrow, there lies the tomb of his son. The cave is mostly a natural cavity in the desert rock, only enhanced by the hands of the designer. Inside, Hadrade II sleeps forever with the first iron of the clan's history. Soon after the sealing of this tomb however, the lord who would be called Andar turned his mind to sealing his own name in this history. He made many forrays into the winter wilderness, but found no special glory. One night he was returning home when he saw movement in the frozen craters of the Still Lake. A man, or what seemed a gross echo of one, taller than a tree, stood hidden in the crater. It's eyes met the young lord's and a peircing screech filled the night. The battle was then joined and Andar, the End Slayer, emerged victorious! The later portion of his life found new dangers in surprising places. Andar discovered a cavern, deep below the Still Lake. Inside he toiled long to uncover its secrets when at last, he made his most amazing discovery. Far below the ice, some long dead civilization had built mines here. Andar uncovered many passages, overcame many dangers, but alas, he found his end down in this dark place. He fought bravely against an enemy, but in the heat of his fury, hi sword arm was broken. In retreat, he was peirced in the neck by an arrow and fell.
And so began the reign of his son, Stigbjorn the Great, but the last great king of these lands. Stigbjorn's first duty wwas to avenge his father. In the mines, he fought the hordes and won against them, until the mines were stripped of thier riches. When Stigbjorn returned to the surface in victory, he began to undertake the creation of a civilization. His dreams were many. His first task was to put his father in the ground with honour. He looked upon the graves of his ancestors, but was unispired by the designs. Then he gazed over the surface of the Still Lake. It ignited his imagination. He punched a hole in the ice and began to dig a chamber under the water. Above the water, he fashioned huge molds. Soon, both under and above, the temple began to take shape. On the lake's surface, the frozen water seemed to rise up into a mausoleum of solid, clear ice. It marked the entry to a tunnel under the water, through which a passage was dug, and a great stair. It bore down into the earth, so deep that to look into it was to look into nothingness. At the base, there could enter the burial chamber. The trunks of taiga dark-woods lifted the ceiling. Deep in the chamber was a single barrow, under the ground but sturdy and proud. Though it had been a designed as the tomb of Andar, the mound would never hold him. Instead, along the walls of the chamber were dark crypts were Andar's sarcophagus would eventually rest. But stepping carelessly, the tomb would incorporate any visitor who entered among the dead lords. The floor would open and swallow those who were unworthy to visit this most holy of sites. When the tomb was completed, Stigbjorn returned again to the surface with a vision of projects to be done. On the northern edge of the Still Lake, he opened the ground for a new grand dwelling from which his people would rule forever. He foresaw it filled with meat and wine, the kitchens stocked everyday by the fortress atop the mountains beyond the reach of winter. In the atrium he had made a vast rug which bore the sigil of his house, the noble squidy. The beams themselves were a marvel to behold and the white walls of the lord's bedchamber. The manner was named Bjornsholm a generation later, but remained forever in a state of renovation. It never saw completion. It was during this time that the great leader began a quest to expand his territory. He travelled far to the north, where he encountered a settlement in the desert. He was welcomed by the people and treated them kindly in return. Nearly finished by his death was also the next biggest project of Stigbjorn's reign. It required the entirety of the manner's store of stone and a conquest of three cavern systems to aquire the necessary material to build, including two ancient dungeons neset by foul enemies. The foretress that stands on the endge of the mountain, as if in defiance of it, was so close to completion that the royal armoury had already been moved there. But by the time it's walls towered over the landscape and all it required was the wood to protect the sentries on the top, Stigbjorn had grown old and sick. His great works had taxed the food stores and a famine beset the land. When the king fell from the tower's edge, he was too weak to have survived. Even so short a distance that it would not have killed him in his prime, one slip from the top story to the next, Stigbjorn the Great's reign ended. He was burried by his grandson, in the tomb that he build himself. He was laid to rest in the great barrow there, his father and son only honoured with a place next to him.
Stogbjorn's son, Stigbjorn II the Pethetic was slain before he had ruled two nights. His crypt within the halls of his father bear him no sympathy in epitaph stone.
Bjorn the Unready was killed as he returned to his grandfather's work. He had done the service of the burrial of both his father and forebearer, but was ambushed on a journey home from the village to the north, which now joined the kingdom as an outlying territory. Bjorn survived the onslaught, but when he returned to the castle to tend his wounds, he, like his father, stumbled too close the edge.
He was succeeded briefly by his younger brother, who was very young when he was crowned. Barely a boy of 7 years, Bjorn II, last of his line, was killed attempting to retrieve his borther's body. His grief cost him his life and with the line of Hadrade ended, the kingdom descended into crisis. He is unburried, though the empty crypt within his grandfather's tomb lies reserved for his spirit.
Of those who held status, few were kin to the line of Hadrada. One such individual claimed the throne, but was put down shortly after. He is unburried and history was not kind enough to name him.
Finally, in exile, only one man had claim on the holdings of the Hadrada. He spread his claim from the desert village to the nroth, sending the villagers over the land as messengers. Meanwhile, he gathered what srength he could. Ivar the Cruel was careful in his exile. Without the strength of arms of the Hadrada, he had only what he could gather in the nearby lands. He was a skilled archer this man, but cruel. He did not live harmoniously with the peasants. Instead, he tore down their dwellings and replaced them with cramped houses dug into the sand. He subdued them and used them anyway he desired. Meanwhile, he gathered his strength. He was at last ready to return when a strange mood took him. Ivar, first of his name, the last claimant on the throne of Hadrada, bid his followers keep in contact each day as he travelled into unknown lands. He claimed he searched for iron to forge a new sword, but when he found the needed supplies, he did not turn back. Before they abandoned his orders, his followers saw him walk alone into the desert. He was not seen again and the last claimant was lost. Hadrada faded from history.
Part of Ivar's journey are recorded in a book that indeed originated from desert reeds of unknown origin. He wandered a vast desert, but was not detered by it. It was as though he believed himself to be headed homeward. He had food, weapons, supplies. He accounted every piece of iron he carried and brandished. When he came accross an even greater bounty in the bowls of a desert cave, he could not turn away. But inside he found not only the iron he sought, but the remains of an underground city. They were mines not unlike what had been found by his distant kin below the frozen lake of their home. Ivar fought his was through the hordes and discovered the lair of legendary dread crystal spiders, beyond which was a tomb, populated by the restless dead. He subdued the skeletal warriors of some ancient society and was ready to continue his search for the land that he sought to take back. However, the cave flooded, nearly drowning him and disrupting the wards placed to calm the undead. They rose again and overwhelmed him and this was where his search ended forever.
And so ended the story of the land of Hadrada, once a great civilization led by strong, honourable champions. When Ivar faded and was lost to the desert sand, the throne remained empty forevermore.
Yet, Hadrade did beget another. His son, the second of his name, lived twice the length of his father. He lived for a time in the wild, gathering to him the wealth of the region. He travelled beyond the taiga and into wild lands that, since Hadrade II, have remained undisturbed. He brought back fine, foreign wood and goods that enriched the holdings of these lands. He then set himself the task of building a great barrow to protect the spirit of his dad unto eternity. This work was built on the sands where the primus was slain, in the Silent Desert where even the blizzard winds dare not intrude. The details surrounding the sealing of the tomb and Hadrade the Builder's death are in debate, but it is believed that he saw his project finished, before he expired himself at the hands of an enemy. His grave names him as Hadrade the Builder.
Unlike Hadrade II however, his son took little time in designing his father's grave. In a cave behind the primus Hadrade's barrow, there lies the tomb of his son. The cave is mostly a natural cavity in the desert rock, only enhanced by the hands of the designer. Inside, Hadrade II sleeps forever with the first iron of the clan's history. Soon after the sealing of this tomb however, the lord who would be called Andar turned his mind to sealing his own name in this history. He made many forrays into the winter wilderness, but found no special glory. One night he was returning home when he saw movement in the frozen craters of the Still Lake. A man, or what seemed a gross echo of one, taller than a tree, stood hidden in the crater. It's eyes met the young lord's and a peircing screech filled the night. The battle was then joined and Andar, the End Slayer, emerged victorious! The later portion of his life found new dangers in surprising places. Andar discovered a cavern, deep below the Still Lake. Inside he toiled long to uncover its secrets when at last, he made his most amazing discovery. Far below the ice, some long dead civilization had built mines here. Andar uncovered many passages, overcame many dangers, but alas, he found his end down in this dark place. He fought bravely against an enemy, but in the heat of his fury, hi sword arm was broken. In retreat, he was peirced in the neck by an arrow and fell.
And so began the reign of his son, Stigbjorn the Great, but the last great king of these lands. Stigbjorn's first duty wwas to avenge his father. In the mines, he fought the hordes and won against them, until the mines were stripped of thier riches. When Stigbjorn returned to the surface in victory, he began to undertake the creation of a civilization. His dreams were many. His first task was to put his father in the ground with honour. He looked upon the graves of his ancestors, but was unispired by the designs. Then he gazed over the surface of the Still Lake. It ignited his imagination. He punched a hole in the ice and began to dig a chamber under the water. Above the water, he fashioned huge molds. Soon, both under and above, the temple began to take shape. On the lake's surface, the frozen water seemed to rise up into a mausoleum of solid, clear ice. It marked the entry to a tunnel under the water, through which a passage was dug, and a great stair. It bore down into the earth, so deep that to look into it was to look into nothingness. At the base, there could enter the burial chamber. The trunks of taiga dark-woods lifted the ceiling. Deep in the chamber was a single barrow, under the ground but sturdy and proud. Though it had been a designed as the tomb of Andar, the mound would never hold him. Instead, along the walls of the chamber were dark crypts were Andar's sarcophagus would eventually rest. But stepping carelessly, the tomb would incorporate any visitor who entered among the dead lords. The floor would open and swallow those who were unworthy to visit this most holy of sites. When the tomb was completed, Stigbjorn returned again to the surface with a vision of projects to be done. On the northern edge of the Still Lake, he opened the ground for a new grand dwelling from which his people would rule forever. He foresaw it filled with meat and wine, the kitchens stocked everyday by the fortress atop the mountains beyond the reach of winter. In the atrium he had made a vast rug which bore the sigil of his house, the noble squidy. The beams themselves were a marvel to behold and the white walls of the lord's bedchamber. The manner was named Bjornsholm a generation later, but remained forever in a state of renovation. It never saw completion. It was during this time that the great leader began a quest to expand his territory. He travelled far to the north, where he encountered a settlement in the desert. He was welcomed by the people and treated them kindly in return. Nearly finished by his death was also the next biggest project of Stigbjorn's reign. It required the entirety of the manner's store of stone and a conquest of three cavern systems to aquire the necessary material to build, including two ancient dungeons neset by foul enemies. The foretress that stands on the endge of the mountain, as if in defiance of it, was so close to completion that the royal armoury had already been moved there. But by the time it's walls towered over the landscape and all it required was the wood to protect the sentries on the top, Stigbjorn had grown old and sick. His great works had taxed the food stores and a famine beset the land. When the king fell from the tower's edge, he was too weak to have survived. Even so short a distance that it would not have killed him in his prime, one slip from the top story to the next, Stigbjorn the Great's reign ended. He was burried by his grandson, in the tomb that he build himself. He was laid to rest in the great barrow there, his father and son only honoured with a place next to him.
Stogbjorn's son, Stigbjorn II the Pethetic was slain before he had ruled two nights. His crypt within the halls of his father bear him no sympathy in epitaph stone.
Bjorn the Unready was killed as he returned to his grandfather's work. He had done the service of the burrial of both his father and forebearer, but was ambushed on a journey home from the village to the north, which now joined the kingdom as an outlying territory. Bjorn survived the onslaught, but when he returned to the castle to tend his wounds, he, like his father, stumbled too close the edge.
He was succeeded briefly by his younger brother, who was very young when he was crowned. Barely a boy of 7 years, Bjorn II, last of his line, was killed attempting to retrieve his borther's body. His grief cost him his life and with the line of Hadrade ended, the kingdom descended into crisis. He is unburried, though the empty crypt within his grandfather's tomb lies reserved for his spirit.
Of those who held status, few were kin to the line of Hadrada. One such individual claimed the throne, but was put down shortly after. He is unburried and history was not kind enough to name him.
Finally, in exile, only one man had claim on the holdings of the Hadrada. He spread his claim from the desert village to the nroth, sending the villagers over the land as messengers. Meanwhile, he gathered what srength he could. Ivar the Cruel was careful in his exile. Without the strength of arms of the Hadrada, he had only what he could gather in the nearby lands. He was a skilled archer this man, but cruel. He did not live harmoniously with the peasants. Instead, he tore down their dwellings and replaced them with cramped houses dug into the sand. He subdued them and used them anyway he desired. Meanwhile, he gathered his strength. He was at last ready to return when a strange mood took him. Ivar, first of his name, the last claimant on the throne of Hadrada, bid his followers keep in contact each day as he travelled into unknown lands. He claimed he searched for iron to forge a new sword, but when he found the needed supplies, he did not turn back. Before they abandoned his orders, his followers saw him walk alone into the desert. He was not seen again and the last claimant was lost. Hadrada faded from history.
Part of Ivar's journey are recorded in a book that indeed originated from desert reeds of unknown origin. He wandered a vast desert, but was not detered by it. It was as though he believed himself to be headed homeward. He had food, weapons, supplies. He accounted every piece of iron he carried and brandished. When he came accross an even greater bounty in the bowls of a desert cave, he could not turn away. But inside he found not only the iron he sought, but the remains of an underground city. They were mines not unlike what had been found by his distant kin below the frozen lake of their home. Ivar fought his was through the hordes and discovered the lair of legendary dread crystal spiders, beyond which was a tomb, populated by the restless dead. He subdued the skeletal warriors of some ancient society and was ready to continue his search for the land that he sought to take back. However, the cave flooded, nearly drowning him and disrupting the wards placed to calm the undead. They rose again and overwhelmed him and this was where his search ended forever.
And so ended the story of the land of Hadrada, once a great civilization led by strong, honourable champions. When Ivar faded and was lost to the desert sand, the throne remained empty forevermore.