Events in Tarahir

As the Theocracy of Asut became increasingly intolerant, many people fled its borders for the safety of Tarahir and other lands. The priesthood’s intolerance only grew, however, and they decided to cleanse the world of mages, non-human races and any who did not follow Memra. Their first target was New Tarahir.

The war lasted twenty years. The Orsai fought unceasingly against an alliance of the Tarahir forces, the Sithi Elves, and the Skaldi and the Treaty Kingdoms. Eventually, the Theocracy troops began to close on the city of New Tarahir, and it became clear that nothing could be done to stop the fall of the city.

A Skaldi general named Grayson was chosen to lead a small, swift cavalry force that would evacuate the city. Meanwhile the rest of the alliance army fought a desperate delaying action to give Grayson’s troops time to evacuate the city. Grayson’s troops reached New Tarahir in time, but many citizens refused to leave, trusting the city’s walls to protect them. A few thousand people did choose to evacuate, and Grayson led the refugees, north into the mountains, away from the Orsai.

After three days of travel, the refugees spotted a huge gout of smoke to the south—New Tarahir was burning. Grayson led the refugees ever deeper into the mountains, hoping to lose the pursuing forces. The refugees were able to stay ahead of the troops chasing them for a few days, but each day brought the enemy that much closer to finding them. Then one of the forward scouts came back with a report about how the canyon they were following dead-ended only a few miles ahead of the refugees. With the enemy behind them, and the rear guard working to slow them down, Grayson sent the scouts back forward to look for a way out of the canyon.

The scouts discovered the entrance to a long abandoned Dwarven outpost that was large enough to hold all the refugees. He led the refugees into the outpost and his rear guard made one more attack on the approaching enemy before joining the refugees inside the outpost, closing the entrance so that it would take a while for the Orsai troops to break in. Grayson gathered the refugees in the main hall of the outpost, and informed them that the enemy was just outside, and that he would have his troops looking for another exit. As he spoke to the refugees, a bas-relief archway in the wall behind Grayson began glowing, and the wall inside the arch disappeared, becoming a hazy mist.

Quickly consulting with a few of the scholars among the refugees, they determined that the archway was one of the fabled Royal Roads often used by the ancient race known as the Cyrads. They reasoned that the magic portal had to lead to someplace better than their current location. None of the scholars or mages among the refugees knew what had caused the Royal Road to activate. Was it the presence of the refugees themselves? Was it the work of the gods or of some other entity? Nobody knew, and at that point, with an enemy army tying to break into the Dwarven outpost, nobody really cared. The outpost that they thought would be their tomb had suddenly offered an escape to possible safety, and thus Grayson took it.

Grayson began herding the refugees into the portal, and only after insuring that all were through safely, he finally plunged into the portal himself. As soon as he stepped from the portal at the other end, it closed, leaving the wall behind the arch as if there had never been a tunnel there.

Taking a look around him, Grayson’s heart sank and felt very heavy. It appeared that the portal had led his people to a ruined, abandoned city, somewhere on the side of a desolate mountain. Before he could even begin to give orders, one of his Sithi scouts, came running up to report that visitors awaited them over by the edge of the mountain terrace that they were on. As Grayson followed the Elf, he shouted orders to his captains, to keep the refugees together and defended, and to be wary until he returned.

Rounding the corner of a large pyramid shaped structure, Grayson stopped dead in his tracks as he faced the six Gryphons waiting there. Grayson was even more dumbfounded when one of the Gryphons began speaking, in what he recognized as an elvish tongue. It wasn’t the language of the Sithi, which Grayson knew well, but it was related and he could even understand about half of what the Gryphon was saying. But it didn’t really matter exactly how much he understood, as he understood the important part, the Gryphon was saying “Welcome to Cyradon”!

#4300 Cyradon, page 35