The Visari-Khuldinai War
War had broken out between the Visareen and Khuldinai, built on centuries of suspicion and distrust, but in truth it was fueled by the lies of those who were in power and intended to maintain it. The conflict was rooted in ages long forgotten, when fractured kingdoms proclaimed independence.
The Visareen obsessed with keeping nature as it was, working within it, dreaming of a realm bound by starlight and memory rather than iron chains. They were perhaps right in that pursuit – the legends claim we are largely to blame for the destruction of our own world.
The Khuldinai, the ones who found refuge underground during the Cataclysm, the captains of industry and machines, rose with hammer and flame to claim the natural resources for their own, seeking to harvest and bind the sacred forests to further their quest for gems and steel. This conflict paused for generations when their rulers brokered peace, but in the world of mortals it is merely a matter of time before the old fires of blood and banner rise again. When pride hardens into zeal and the songs of kinship turn once more into the drums of war.
The first years of war were marked by sieges that dragged through endless winters. Villages were burned to ash, and entire peoples driven from their ancestral homes on both sides of the conflict. The Visareen were hunted from glade and grove, their kin scattered or slain, while the Khuldinai hardened their holds in the ridges of the mountains. Each side weaving vengeance into their very breath, atrocities committed in the name of self defense and national security. In truth, it was a cruel war perpetuated by hate, and it gave each side permission to let their most vicious impulses breathe.
As the years bled on, the ruin deepened. Cities once rich in trade and song became cages of hunger and death. Finally the cost seemed too great, and each side once again sought a truce.
Then the human faction, the Empire, the nation whose capital of Timbur Deep offered refuge for many of the war’s victims, descended to intervene. They came not as saviors, but as arbiters whose armies struck the machines of war and broke fortifications. The Empire did not take either side, but imposed silence upon the clash, their presence a grim peace forged of steel and decree. What started as a war between neighbors was ended not by victory on either side, but by the weight of outsiders who forced the two into a fragile accord, binding them to a divided land where peace carried the taste of ash.