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Oathsworn Origin

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"Our world was beautiful once. Lush forests, full of life. Serene oceans and captivating skies. Our world had creatures and colors I've yet to see among the others. Beasts both kind and fierce would rule the wild places, and there was harmony. Enchanting sights that could charm even the most hardened soul, if only for a moment. Sure, the people of Kelmor weren't perfect. We had our share of conflict driven by greed and ambition. But nothing prepared our world for the Hunger..."




Kelmor was the largest land on our world, divided into six Kingdoms. Each with a ruler that desired more than they held, and so they plotted and schemed against each other. All but save one.


A man known to have survived a hundred battles, but not by strength alone. He had a mind for strategy, and a heart of gold. His only desire was to have people forge their own destiny. An ideal that quickly fell short in the land of Kelmor, as other rulers began to sprout with their own visions. However, all the Kingdoms owe him a great debt for shattering what was once known as the Vin'lar Empire, which was an all encompassing dark and sinister monarchy. Pharuuk had the quality of a hero, and became more than a legend in our land. He became a breathing God. People from all over built monuments and statues in his name, worshiping him. He reveled in it, adored it, the reverence. But even the exalted can fall.

Some years after the free Kingdoms had formed. Pharuuk's mind had begun to whither. Madness seeped in. Only fleeting moments of clarity would visit him. During those brief stints, Pharuuk had begun a journal, writing down whatever thoughts his mind could summon. Some entries seem random gibberish, while most were thoughts of his people. Then there was this passage...

"There is a sickness in me- not born from this world. Haunting nightmares, nay memories of lands being consumed by a dark cloud. It rips at my mind and I am obsessed. I fear it is coming to us. Not just the land of Kelmor, but to those yet beyond our reach. My body grows cold as if I am already standing on these lifeless grounds. I fight against this hunger, but it is not a foe known to me. I will send word of this darkness to the other Kingdoms, surely someone will know a remedy."

An entry only discovered years after his passing by one of Pharuuk's sons...


An honorable son, Dirke had set out to the other Kingdoms with his father's last unspoken wish. To speak of the madness that consumed the land's hero, and to seek a remedy to the fallen. Each land Dirke visited, was a shadow of it's former self. The minds of rulers decaying, and so too were their lands. This did not escape his notice. Realizing the weight of the issue, he had begun a mission of his own. One that would follow his father's legacy... To save Kelmor.

Bringing to light the darkness that has befallen the land, Dirke had been able to gain followers. Scholars, warriors, farmers and all walks between had lent to the cause. Some preparing food before the world's blight grew too wide spread. Some smithing armaments to equip those capable of defending against rioters, or worse. Some even explored outside of Kelmor in hopes of an answer. Those never returned. These folk all shared a single fortress high into the largest mountain in Kelmor, and aptly called it God's Reach. The last bastion for those still living in that world.

It didn't take long before the hunger was upon them. Dark clouds consuming the land in all directions. Bitter cold had been biting at the smallest spark of life that remained within the residence. Most people were lost to the evil winter, starved or gone mad. It was only a matter of time before they too were engulfed by this unstoppable foe. But Dirke did not falter. He would not surrender his life. He spat at the hunger and cursed it. Fighting back with body and soul, there were 14 left alive. 

In those last moments, Dirke showed solid resolve. He took a blade to his hand, and cut deep. Holding high his blood dripped fist, he casts a final curse at the hunger. Vowing with this life, and the next, and the next, for all eternity, he will forever fight this darkness. The 13 others inspired by his promise of vengeance, too swore the oath... 




"It's now a fading memory, Kelmor. It's been countless lifetimes since that day. I was a farmer then... But now I'm a Crow."






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