The istory of the unbrand

fter their terrible losses in the Great War, the Drow called upon unholy magic to create the Dark Servants, unspeakable minions of evil they unleashed upon the high elves. These servants were intended to posses the high elven leaders and turn the war in the Drow's favor, but instead their minions ran amok, possessing elves seemingly at random. This period is known as the Dark Reign of Terror, and lasted for three years until the Order of the Sunbrand arose to lead the Crusade of Light.

Later study by the survivors found a sinister purpose behind the dark servants' possessions, which were carried out not to further military goals, but rather to cause the most suffering possible. While the Drow's clear goal was the extermination of the high elves, their dark servants wished instead to cause the greatest pain, often choosing interfamilial carnage over military targets. The servants loved chaos, and took great pleasure in the randomness of their bloodshed, frequently taking those who were totally irrelevant to the war yet furthered their bloody whim.

With such dire forces ravaging the land, massive bloodshed, terror, and hysteria followed as high elves turned against their own kin and immortal blood was spilled by elven hands.

While the dark servants rarely targeted the leaders of the high elves, they took great relish in the perversion of the righteous. It is thus that the worst slaughter during the Reign of Terror was by the hand of Mirithrond Shadowslayer, a mighty high elven paladin. Mirithrond was a devout follower of the elven gods Corellon and Elohna, and always defended the people of his lands from evil in all its forms. He had arrayed a vast army and was well loved by those he led.

In the darkest night of the Terror, Mirithrond was possessed by a terrible dark servant, and many of his commanders were taken by lesser minions. Using Mirithrond's body as a helpless puppet, the dark servant ordered his holy army against the neighboring kingdom, convincing the soldiers that their neighbors had been completely overcome by the Drow. Mirithrond's army struck swiftly at their unsuspecting neighbors, destroying many villages before any army could be mustered. And so did the Drow's servants kill many innocent elves by the hands of the holy.

Once gathered, the defending high elven forces were no match for Mirithrond's great army, and were forced to call upon their wood elf and gray elf kin to aid them. Loathe to take up arms against their brethren, but unable to watch as innocents were slaughtered, elves of all blood joined the fray and went vainly to their deaths. Even with reinforcements, the defending army was unable to hold the land against the might of Mirithrond, and they were forced to retreat to a narrow valley enclosed by sheer cliffs. It is there that the brotherhood of elves made their last stand.

The battle raged for three days, prolonged by the narrow battle front. The dark servant watched from the cliff above, reveling in the slaughter below. In the most terrible and bloody hour of the third day, the horror of so many brothers killing each other finally kindled a flame of resistance in Mirithrond. After a mighty struggle, Mirithrond overcame the controlling servant and regained his senses. Horrified at the atrocities carried out in his name, and fearing he would soon become a pawn to the dark servant again, the valiant paladin cast himself from the cliff overlooking the battlefield.

Mirithrond's broken body landed upon the field amongst battling knights of both sides. With his last breath he whispered a dying plea to his deities. "Forgive me and let my death guard against this evil."

The fall of Mirithrond was seen by his knights, and all stopped their fighting. Moved by Mirithrond's sacrifice, the god Corellon and his divine wife Elohna intervened. Where Mirithrond's body lay, a great fire burst forth. The radiance of the holy blaze drove the dark servants from the battlefield entirely. The commanders of Mirithrond's army stood speechless as they regained their senses and understood the terrible evil they had done. Falling to their knees, they wept and begged forgiveness from their stunned opponents.

As all looked on, Mirithrond's body was consumed in the holy funeral pyre. From the flames a vision was had by all who stood near.

Mirithrond's spirit slowly rose from his fallen body and looked out beneficently upon the knights arrayed about him. And he said to them, "Brothers, let those of you who are pure of spirit and true of purpose step forth and become our kin's champions. For there shall never be another day that the minions of the Drow stand unopposed."

With this, many knights from both sides rose and approached the pyre. Most could not bear its heat, for their aims were not true. Many wished for revenge and a few for power or personal glory. But none of these were protected from the flames, and thus were forced to turn back. Finally, seven pure elves stood by the edge of the flames, four of high elven blood, two of gray elven lineage and one from the woods.

To these he spoke "By the sacrifice of our brothers, I create now a holy order to ward our kin and land. As evil works through darkness, let this order be servants of light. Thus it is by our master's flaming blade that you shall cleanse the world of this evil. You are the Order of the Sunbrand, and all shall know you by the blades you carry."

With this, seven magnificent swords sprang from the flames into the hands of the seven. They burned with a holy, white flame that would drive all evil things before their purifying light.

Mirithrond spoke again, saying "Stalwart must you be in the face of our enemies, so I give you these Shields of Faith. None who holds them shall ever fear nor turn aside from his true purpose." From the pyre sprang seven perfect shields, each burning with a symbol of the Order at its center.

"And finally do I bequeath unto you these Crowns of Glory, may they always burn at your brow so that men may heed you and my fate never befall you." With that, the flames of the pyre swirled and coalesced to form crowns of solid fire on the brows of the seven.

Mirithrond smiled and addressed them a final time. "Be always true to the Order and ever vigilant, for this battle will not be won until long after you lie in your graves. Go now, and by your righteousness, drive this evil from the land!"

With that Mirithrond turned and faded from sight as he joined his divine masters in Sunhaven. It is said that the fire burned for days, and when it finally died, it was as if there had never been any flames at the spot. The body of the fallen paladin was gone entirely, but the grass was green and the rocks uncharred.

Armed with their holy weapons and righteous faith, the Order was able to slowly drive back the dark servants. After three long years of battle, the minions of evil retreated to the southern ice continent, where they turned on their masters and caused great destruction amongst the Drow. During this three year campaign, known as the Crusade of Light, the order gained many followers and became a full-fledged army. In the years between Mirithrond's fall and the Final Battle, the Army of the Sunbrand was a powerful force of order and provided much needed hope in a desperate time.

Shortly after the fall of Mirithrond, the High King and his High Council met. Appalled by the damage done by the Drow's servants, and enraged by the perversion of their once noble paladin, the Council called for a final end to their dark kin. Seeing no other means to protect his people, the King agreed, and the new goal of the high elves came to match that of the Drow: total annihilation of the enemy.

Resolute in their aim, the high elves prepared for fifteen years. To aid them in their final desperate war, the high elves taught men the secrets of magic so that human wizards would march with the Great Army. As the day of action dawned in the fortieth year of the Great War, all but one of the Order's champions marched with the High King and his Great Army. Behind they left Illindar Treefriend, the Order's only wood elven champion. He commanded a small homeguard of the faithful pledged to defend the lands should the Great Army's conquest fail.

Tales of the Final Battle are legend, with magics unleashed that the world has never seen before or since. The Drow were defeated but at the cost of the entire Great Army as the southern ice continent fell into the sea. The High King and all of the Order who marched with him were killed and their holy relics lost. In the last moments of the ultimate battle, Laninar Stormchaser, a high elven champion of the Order, used divine magic to send this final message to the homeguard:

"The southern lands now fall beneath the sea and we die. Our enemy is defeated, but they leave us a final curse, 'Those who have died in our service are not released, though they will slumber a thousand years'. Be vigilant and teach your sons well."

And thus ended the Age of Strife.

The homeguard of the Sunbrand remained true to their oath. In the chaos that reigned after the Final Battle, the Order did its best to bring order to the lands they protected, but their forces were too small to stem the tide of destruction. Illindar, the last of the Order's true champions, died fifty years later in a battle against an invading warlord's army. His relics were lost in the battle, and none in the Order have seen a true Sunbrand or Crown of Glory since that fateful day.

After Illindar's defeat, the Order withdrew to Glimmervale forest. The greatly weakened Order disengaged from conflicts outside their immediate domain, and successfully defended the forest in an attempt to preserve their knowledge and traditions against the encroaching chaos. Despite their fall from power, the Order remained a force of good in the greater elven lands throughout the Age of Hope.

During the last few hundred years, the Order regained some of its former power. The Order's ranks substantially increased with many new recruits sworn to guard against the return of the Drow and their minions. While the Order has always sent out scouts, the vast majority of the Order remained a homeguard, valiantly defending Glimmervale forest but not venturing beyond it.

In recent decades, a new menace appeared across the lands as the dead started rising from their graves. Fearing the ancient curse, the Order greatly increased their recruiting to build a new army capable of fighting their ancient foes. The Order's newest members were trained in both the clerical arts as well as the ways of the blade, so that they may effectively fight the new minions of the Drow.

In the last few years, the Order begun mobilizing its forces, and has sent warriors out of the forest not only to gather information and powerful magics, but also to take righteous action in the name of the Sunbrand. Gladriel is one such holy warrior.

And thus is the stage set for our story to unfold...