Elves and Orcs

Before coming here, the old man hadn't given it much thought. He'd simply held on to the idea that even if he couldn't get revenge, he could at least disgust the Arcane Brotherhood. But Solam's words had just made him stop and think: why had he come here? For revenge? No. The old man swore he absolutely hadn't come for that. He knew how powerful the Arcane Brotherhood was. Dragging Kramsh into this would only hurt him. So why had he come?

He thought about it for a long time before he understood. It was loneliness. He didn't have many friends in this world to begin with, and almost all of them had died in that disaster. The only friend he could still confide in was Kramsh. Their ideals differed greatly, but that didn't stop him from still thinking of Kramsh as a friend.

Kramsh had once warned him that if he kept acting so stubbornly and unscrupulously, he'd come to regret it. Back then, when he was young, he hadn't taken those words seriously. But looking back now, wasn't Kramsh right? He'd always acted without mercy. He'd done more than his share of evil, so wasn't his current fate simply retribution?

Now he had no family or friends left. All he had was this old friend, who'd argued with him again and again and constantly tried to warn him. It seemed fate still favored him. At least it had left him one friend, so he wouldn't die alone.

Actually, Arando's feelings weren't unusual. No matter what, humans were social creatures; nobody could remain alone forever.

After Arando had worked through all this, he seemed to relax considerably, and the gloom on his face eased. He wasn't about to let go of his hatred, but at least he'd stopped blaming and cursing fate. Fate hadn't treated him too badly. At least when he was at his most miserable and despairing, it had left him one friend. Now he understood what Kramsh had meant by leaving him that totem when they parted ways: no matter what, Kramsh still considered him a friend.

Solam watched the old man's face shift from gloomy to smiling, then finally settle into calm. It was downright strange. "Did the old man hurt his brain when he got injured? Why's he acting so erratically?" He'd been fine a moment ago, so why had he suddenly fallen into deep thought? Solam wondered if he'd said something to upset the old man, but he didn't think he'd said anything at all.

"Whew. I came to find your grandfather not—just to see an old friend before I die, so I won't have any regrets at the end." The old man saw Solam staring at him strangely and immediately realized he'd been lost in thought for a while.

Damn, this guy really did have a carefree attitude toward life. Even at his age, he'd crossed mountains just to visit an old friend. Solam couldn't help admiring him. Getting to Avalon from the outside world wasn't a simple matter, like taking a trip to the countryside. He'd experienced the hardships of crossing the Spine of the World when he was a baby. He hadn't made the journey himself, but he'd felt it while being carried by his father's comrade.

"What about you? I remember that old bastard Kramsh couldn't stand Elves. With his bizarre taste, he caused no end of laughs on our adventures. How could he allow his grandson to be a Beast Elf?" The old man clearly didn't want to talk about himself anymore, so he quickly changed the subject.

Solam sensed what he was doing, but didn't mind. If someone didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to force him. Besides, the old man in front of him was practically an elder.

"My grandfather would've preferred that I wasn't one, but I was sent to Avalon as soon as I was born. My dad was already dead by then, so there wasn't much he could do about it." Solam spoke casually. Honestly, he didn't care much about his background. It was what it was; it wasn't as if he could change it. Things were fine as they were, so he'd leave them be.

On the Faerûn Continent, where bloodline and birth mattered so much, Arando had never met anyone who cared so little about their own origins.

"What about your mother?"

"She seems to have died too. I heard she fought a fierce battle and took her enemies down with her."

"So your parents fell in love normally?"

"How else would they have?"

"..."

The old man was speechless about this family. An Orc had fallen in love with an Elf and they'd even had a child. If you told people outside, a hundred out of a hundred would say they didn't believe you—and twenty more besides.

"Why do you think that's so rare? I know Orcs and Elves are hereditary enemies, but surely there are couples who break through social prejudice."

"Heh. Looks like Kramsh's knowledge is as poor as ever. We have some time, so let me give you a quick lesson." The old man used a wooden bowl to ladle some soup from the pot. After taking a sip, he began explaining some basic history to Solam.

At the beginning, there were no Elves in this world. They had come here through magic a very, very long time ago. According to legend, in that age, dragons ruled the skies and giants ruled the earth. After the Elves arrived, they began overthrowing those ancient rulers. Using magic beyond anything people today could imagine, the Elves tore apart the continent and enslaved dragons with mythals, until dragons had become a rare sight in the world. Meanwhile, Dwarves emerged from the depths of the mountains and used their smithing skills to defeat the giants and topple their rule over the land.

After that, the Elves and Dwarves fought over dominion of the world. The Dwarves lost and retreated into the mountains. From then on, their relationship with the Elves was... well, not exactly one of mortal enmity, but they certainly couldn't stand each other.

The Elves gained dominion over the world. In those days, humans were little better than beasts, living like primitive cave dwellers.

The Elves of that era were a textbook example of a people bent on self-destruction—and a classic military dictatorship. They began enslaving the other races on the continent, but that wasn't enough for them. They opened portals to other worlds and enslaved their people too. The Orcs were among those brought here by the Elves to serve as slaves.

But the Elves hadn't counted on the Orcs being different from the other races of Faerûn at the time. They didn't meekly accept their fate. The Orcs of that era were fierce and untamable. Once their numbers had grown, they began a long rebellion. During the age of Elven rule, the Elven armies spent most of their time putting down Orc uprisings.

But that still wasn't enough for the Elves. As the Orc rebellion grew more intense and the other enslaved races began to stir, the Elves somehow started splitting apart. Can you believe it? But those self-destructive fools really did it. They divided into six kingdoms: Aryvandaar, Illefarn, Ilythiir, Keltormir, Miyeritar, and Shantel Othreier.

For a while, after those kingdoms were established, the Elves managed to suppress the Orc rebellion. But the Elves of that age had a talent for endless self-destruction. In time, the kingdoms went to war over political differences, territory, and even the most absurd reasons...

The fighting grew ever more intense. In the end, the continent—which they'd already blown apart once—was blown apart again. This time, the damage was worse: the continent was split into several pieces. The Faerun Continent of today was the result of that war. (The continent itself was like, "I'm so screwed.")

Their wars were known as the Crown Wars. It was also during this period that the Elven gods officially entered the stage of history. Later, the final Crown War broke out between Aryvandaar and Miyeritar.

At the time, the Elven gods all hoped that one Elven kingdom would put an end to thousands of years of mutual slaughter, so they chose to support Aryvandaar. Things seemed to be going smoothly. Aryvandaar would unite the Elves, and they would continue ruling the world.

But it seemed the Elves' self-destructive streak had infected their gods too. The queen of the Elven gods at the time, the goddess of chaos and destiny, Araushnee the Weaver, somehow fell out with the Elven chief god, Corellon Larethian. Then she rebelled with her children and switched her support to Miyeritar. That made the war more brutal than ever. Gods and ordinary Elves on both sides joined the slaughter. In the end, Araushnee and Miyeritar were defeated, and several of the goddess's children died in battle. Perhaps the hatred of defeat and the pain of losing her children drove Araushnee completely mad. She fell utterly into darkness and became the Spider Queen, Lolth, as she was now known. Most of Miyeritar's survivors also refused to surrender. Instead, they followed the Spider Queen Lolth into the Underdark, carrying their deep hatred with them. They were the Drow, and both they and their gods harbored unspeakable hatred for the surface Elves, always ready to take revenge on their cousins.

Although the Elves had finally reunited after their division, both sides had slaughtered each other so badly that by the time they came to their senses, another pantheon had already risen: the Orc Pantheon.

The Elves tried to suppress the Orcs once more, but by then they were already exhausted. The Elven gods had also been gravely weakened by the queen's rebellion.

By that time, Gruumsh, the chief god of the Orcs, had grown powerful enough to fear neither Corellon nor the Elven chief god. So the two sides went to war again. Among the events of that war was the birth of Ityak-Ortheel, the Elf-Eater, fathered by Corellon, the chief god of the Elves, and Gruumsh, the chief god of the Orcs. It was a giant mushroom with three massive, thick legs and countless tentacles... Who knew what it had gone through to end up looking like that?

But the monster was incredibly powerful. Neither magic nor divine spells could kill it for good. The Elven gods tried all sorts of ways to deal with it, but every so often the thing still showed up on Elven territory to wreak havoc.