At the start of everything the All-Father made all things that walk or swim, all places in which they dwell, the light and the dark, all things that grow or move, and all the lands and waters and heavens. All things he made by his will, and into all living things he breathed his spirit. To rule above the world he made his Angelium, whom we call the gods. To rule in the world, he made the four great races, and all the lesser beasts and beings below them. Thus it came to be that Men first walked out in the world, to tame the wild places, and to build villages, then castles, and at last kingdoms.

Thus it was that the Kingdoms of the First Age rose in an age of hope and promise, but in the face of much blood and peril. Orcs roamed the hills unfettered. Wild beasts ravaged flocks. The work of men was to tame the land, and to defend their people. Men learned to build and to organize their people. At first, men gathered together in caves or small camps, with only crude weapons to guard against wild beast and savage Orc. Then they built temples to the gods, whom in gratitude gave to them the gift of fire, taught them to tame horses, and unlocked for them the mysteries of magic. With their new wisdoms, gifts of other gods, men made finer weapons, and rode to battle on horseback, crafter stone walls and built the first small fortresses.

In time, little forts grew into solid castles and into great strongholds, and small camps grew into villages and towns and the first cities. So, there arose great Kingdoms of which now nothing remains.

This was the age when gods were still seen to walk the land, to fight alongside righteous armies, to inspire the ancient prophets. It was the age when men learned to build and to organize, to become masters of the land and masters of themselves. It was the age in which men learned to be victorious, to stop hiding and to stand firm. It was a time of heroes, of which nothing remains but legends...

Orc origins

At the start of everything was the First Tribe. It ruled everything, made everything, owned everything.

The Great Chief had a horde of Always-Chiefs, who commanded everything valuable, everything important. They always would. There was an Always-chief for the Hunt. An Always-Chief for birth. An Always-Chief for death. An Always-Chief for Fire. There were lots of Always-Chiefs – more than you could count.

In the Tribe, there was fighting. Then there was feasting. Then there was more fighting. It went on for years. The Great Chief rewarded the winners. The winners made slaves of the losers.

In the end, there were only four Champions. They had made slaves of everyone.

The Great Chief saluted them. He turned to the greatest Champion, and said to him, "Greatest Champion, undefeated hero, who we all hail with the name Orc. You have defeated more than anyone else. What prize shall I give you?"

Orc said: "I fight for you. I fight for my chieftains. I fight for Great Chief and the Always-Chiefs. I want no reward, but to shed blood for my chieftain!"

The Great Chief laughed. He laughed so that trees fell and the animals fled. He laughed bigger than any storm. He said, "That is the best answer! So, maybe I do this. Maybe I free the salves, and you all fight again. What would you do then?"

Orc pointed at the second Champion. "I fight the most dangerous foe! First, I challenge this champion, called Man. And I make him my slave. Then everyone knows I am mightiest!"

The Great-Chief said "This is good! You, Man! What do you say!"

But Man said "No! I will not give up my slaves!" Man refused. Man would not obey his Great Chief. They argued. They shouted. But man would not obey.

"I will fight you!" screamed Orc. "I will chase you down. I will hunt you like a pig. I will kill you, skin you, eat your guts. From your skull I will drink your blood!"

At this, all the Always-Chiefs roared and cheered. They all knew Orc was greatest of Champions, and most loyal.

But Man went to gather his followers. He would not fight Orc alone, and so their followers clashed and fought for years. Orc had the best fighters. So the tribe of Man tamed horses so they could run away. Then the tribe of Man built castles to hide in.

Then Orc said "Where are the other Champions? We should all fight traitor Man. We should kill his tribe. We should peel off their skins, make cloaks from them to give as gifts to the Always-Chiefs. We should build a new throne for Great Chief, using their bones!"

But the Always-Chiefs said "The other Champions have run away."

So Orc cried "Then tell me where they are! I will kill them all. I will make more cloaks for you, and a bigger throne for Great Chief!"

They said "The third Champion, Dwarf, is slow and dull, he is strong but with no taste for blood. So, Dwarf has hidden. He digs into the mountain, and guards his holes with huge walls."

"And where is the weakest?" Orc asked.

"Elf is hiding in the forests. He thinks you can't find him there. He fears your strength, he plots against you."

"All will die!" said Orc.

"No," said the Always-Chiefs. "You asked to fight. That was the reward you wanted. You said you would make slaves. This is your fight. Great-Chief has given you the whole world to fight over. Tribes of Man and Dwarf and Elf are all there for you. Fight them. Conquer them. It's stupid to kill those you can own. Make them slaves."

"Then I will fight everyone," said Orc. "I will make slaves of all tribes!"

"It is what you are in the world for," said the Always-Chiefs. "You are loyal. If you seek aid, your priests can ask us, and we will bless you. But you are also strong. So, this world is yours. Conquer it!"

So, that was the First Age. There was fighting. Then there was feasting. Then there was more fighting. It went on for years.

Dwarf Origins

At the start of everything was the Maker. First he made tools for his use. These are called Artefores, with which he made all that now is. At the Maker's direction, the first Artefores crafted stone and clay and earth and metal and all that is hard. Then the next Artefores crafted water and light and fire and all that is soft. The third Artefores made from the hard and the soft all that grows and thrives, the plants and the animals. Then last, that some of the beasts might think and live, the last Artefores crafted all that cannot be seen or touched, such as time and distance, mathematics and language, and death.

With the invisible things and the living things, then the Maker's Artefores constructed their most complex creations, the races who now rule the world. First they made Orcs, which they saw were deficient, being misshapen and brutish, too like a simple animal, too full of base urges. Then they made Humans, which did not satisfy them, since this race was unskilled and often unreasonable. These first two races they cast out into the wilderness, to live with the beasts, and there these two began to fight together like beasts.

Then at last they made the Dwarves, and they were pleased with what they had made, this race being solid in proportion, skilled with tools, sharp of mind, stable in temperament. After that they made other races, as a craftsman might make oddities for his amusement, such as Halflings, Kobolds, Elves, Ogres, Centaurs, Lizardfolk, and such.

This was the First Age. It was a great age for the Dwarves. It was a golden age, an iron age, a marble age, and age when our people learned from the Artefores and grew in strength and craft. While on the plains and in the forests below our peaks the outside world was filled with snarling beats and warlike Orcs and other chaotic jumble, the Dwarven halls were bastions of order and progress. Under the tutelage of the Artefores, Dwarves were responsible for all of the greatest inventions the world has ever seen, first fire, then the crafting of iron, through to winches and pulleys, hydraulic pumps, and machines more complex than any that we know now: mechanical warriors, great mechanized kitchens and workshops, even machines which flew.

Over the Dwarven halls ruled a single King, who wore the Eternal Crown, crafted from iron by the Artefores themselves. It was said that if the Dwarves stayed on the path that the Maker had set for them, the crown could not rust or be broken and our bastions could never be breached. Beneath him were well ordered guilds of craftsmen, regiments of soldiers, schools of wizardly scholars. We grew in understanding every day, and remained safe from the world.

But armed with their great machines and inventions, Dwarves began to investigate their own paths, to leave the well ordered halls, to abandon the teachings of the Artefores. The Artefores withdrew from our halls, and left us only with the priests who now tend their scrolls.

Soon, Orcs breached the walls of a Dwarven citadel, and signs of rust appeared upon the Eternal Crown. The First Age was over.

Elf Origins

At the start of everything there was light. And the light was understanding. And the light was love. And the light was growth. For all these things are life, and life began with life.

And the first life yearned to begat life; and life grows, by its nature. And so she made herself many; and so he made himself many. Forms were imagined, and they were distinct; and as they were distinct, they needed names, which they also imagined.

And so these many lives, these imaginers, these Lightened, our gods, they understood, and loved, and grew. And they yearned to make what was not of themselves, but which they could love, and which could grow, illuminated by their wisdom. And so they created their First Daughter.

But the First Daughter was most terribly flawed. She was not of the same nature as the Lightened, of our gods. They did not touch her as they made her, but only willed her to be, as one might dream a thing but not set one's hand to its creation. She was made by them from filth and mud, of base and decaying things. And she was cruel, and angry, and sought not to understand or to love or to grow, but delighted in cruelty and ignorance.

So the Lightened made the Second Daughter, made from air and fire, and into her they breathed their breath. But the Second Daughter had no constancy, but was ever-changing like the winds, inconstant as fire, prone to fitful moods, and without love for those who had created her.

So the Lightened made the Third Daughter. She was made from solid stuff, from stone and clay and iron and ice. And as they made her, they touched her with their forms, that she should know their power. And she had understanding. But she had not love. And as she had not love, her understanding was cold, and barren, like iron or ice. She could calculate and plan, but not care nor feel.

And at this the Lightened despaired, and they wept, and they yearned for a daughter who might be worthy of their hopes. And they drew down the light of the stars, and formed from that a final daughter, and their tears fell upon her, and in their tears fell all their yearning and their love and their regret for their mistakes and their hopes for all that she might be. And when this last daughter stood before them, they proclaimed "This is a worthy daughter!"

How, the Second Daughter, ever fitful, was jealous and proud, and raged against the first-named, and stormed away into the desert, saying, "I am as worthy! How dare you praise her, just because she is closer to you in light and love and understanding! We all are mighty and clever, as you are!"

And the seeing this, the First Daughter was aghast, proclaiming "the Lightened made us and love us and this rebellion is a disgrace! I shall defend the first-named, and I shall make Murder to do this. I shall do what has never been done, I shall kill a Daughter, as warning to the others they they must obey the first-named!" And the Lightened were shocked, for they loved all their daughters, yet the First Daughter would not listen to their entreaties, but vowed in their name to destroy what they loved.

And so the two daughters fought. And they gave birth to children who might fight with them, as none could overcome the other alone. And the First-daughter and her Orc-children held the highlands, and launched their attacks from hovels in the hills. And the Second Daughter and her Man-children cultivated the desert, and built forts on their green plains. And the Third-Daughter, fearful from the warfare, hid in the highest peaks, and birthed Dwarf-children to dig mines and tunnels in which she could be safe.

And the first-named turned to the last Daughter, that is, their favoured Daughter and said "you are the closest to us, the best of our daughters. Make peace between your sisters!" But the Favoured Daughter was made of nothing but starlight, and she fell down and wept.

And so the first-named went out to entreat with their Daughters, and could not make peace. And some sided with one Daughter or another, while others stood aloof, but all were pained by the fighting and misery that their daughters had caused, and one by one they withdrew from the world.

And so the Daughters were left alone. Each with their children, and each in their own domains. And so it was in the First Age, that the Man-children toiled in the fields to support their armies, the Orc-children hunted amongst the hills to feed their fighters, the Dwarf-children scratched under the mountains to build their defences, and the Elven-children wandered the wooded ways in misery.

And that is the story of the First Age.

And you, listening, might say to yourself, "Is this so? Does this story tell us all that was? When the last daughter, the Favoured Daughter, was made from starlight, whence had the stars come? When the Third Daughter rebelled, who had made the desert into which she fled?" Of course it does not tell you all. "Are these real facts, or just stories?" you might ask, "and why do others tell different stories?" But it does not matter if the facts are correct, nor what Orc or Dwarf or Human priests might preach. It matters only that the story is true. And this is the truest story that ever has been told or ever will be told.

You, you are no iron-cold Dwarf-child, to ask for cold facts. You are no warring Man-child, nor Orc-child, to seek in stories excuses for your pride or cruelty. You are born from starlight, from tears of hope and tears of despair and tears of wisdom, and to you it falls to understand, to love and to grow. And so this is a story of growth and love, that you might understand.