Cataclysm

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The Red Sky

The Red Sky heralded the birth of Cataclysm, a grim prelude etched in dread. For nearly a decade, the heavens bled crimson, shrouding the world in unyielding twilight. No sun graced the horizon, no warmth touched the earth—only a cold, creeping terror. Fear became the air they breathed, not of what was seen, but of the unknowable lurking beyond the scarlet veil.  

The Descent

After nearly a decade of darkness, nights, and a blood-red sky, catastrophe struck Thalas. Blazing celestial stones began to fall upon the planet, obliterating all within hundreds of kilometers. Almost the entire world was marked by ruin, scorched by the divine wrath of the gods. Amid thousands of fiery meteors, seven colossals descended, their devastation redrawing the maps of the world. Legends whisper that these stones were the eggs of primordial dragons, awaiting their time to hatch.

The Wipeout
The Wipeout began as whispers beneath the crimson shroud, a storm gathering in the unseen. When it came, it was neither swift nor merciful—it was a tide of ruin, relentless and unyielding. Celestial flames rained from the heavens, their fury carving scars into the land and soul alike. Mountains crumbled, oceans boiled, and cities vanished, devoured by the wrath of the gods. What once was a world teeming with life became a graveyard of silence and ash.
  Nearly all life perished in the relentless fury of the Cataclysm's earlier waves. The countless voices of the world were silenced, leaving only a handful to endure.  

The Times of Silence

The Times of Silence—a era when the world fell silent under the weight of its own demise. No voices, no laughter, only the wind howling through the ruins. Life faded like a shadow at dusk, leaving only echoes of fear and emptiness behind. Those who survived listened to the silence, not as peace, but as a memory of all that was lost.

Monsters, once oppressed and driven into hiding, crawled from their lairs and caves. Without fear, they roamed the world, their hunger unrelenting, feeding on the dead beneath the shadows of colossal stones. Their feast was bathed in darkness, their only company the primordial eggs of dragons, the harbingers of destruction.  

The Gathering

The act carried out by the nations was one of restoration and unity, a deliberate effort to rebuild what had been shattered. In the wake of catastrophe, when the world lay in ruin, the people of these nations recognized that their survival depended not on isolation, but on coming together. They resolved to unite, to gather and form strong, interconnected communities where strength was found in numbers, and in shared heritage.

The people began to cluster, not only by geography but by shared identity—races, cultures, and beliefs that had once been scattered now sought to find common ground. They formed bonds that transcended past divisions, uniting under the banners of common cause and survival. Each group, once fragmented, now worked as one, pooling resources, knowledge, and magic to restore the broken world.

This gathering, this act of collective rebuilding, was a movement toward a new future—one where unity was the foundation. They understood that the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges, but together, they believed they could rise again. The act was not just about survival, but about forging a new era where they could thrive as a united force, bound by shared history and renewed purpose.  

The Period of Hatching

The Period of Hatching was an epoch of chaos and transformation, a time when the world of Thalas was reshaped by the awakening of the primordial dragons. It began with an ominous trembling, as if the very soul of the planet quaked in anticipation. The colossal eggs, dormant for decades, began to stir, each radiating its own unique and destructive power.

From the first egg, molten rivers of lava poured forth, igniting the land and carving burning paths across the continents. Mountains melted, and fiery storms erupted, turning vast regions into seas of flame. The second egg cracked open, unleashing bolts of lightning that danced across the skies, splitting the heavens and striking the earth with unrelenting fury.

The third egg spilled forth toxic gases and venomous mists, spreading across the land like a plague. Forests withered, rivers turned to poison, and life fled from its suffocating reach. The fourth egg birthed icy winds and shards of frozen death, creating glaciers where once there had been plains, and entombing entire regions in unyielding frost.

As each egg cracked further, the raw, unbridled power of archana erupted into the world. This primal magic, mingling with the elements of Thalas, became a catalyst for cataclysmic events. Violent storms howled through the skies, tearing apart anything in their path. Floods consumed coastal cities, drowning countless lives. Earthquakes shattered the foundations of civilizations, leaving ruin in their wake.

The hatching of the primordial dragons was not merely a physical devastation—it was a rewriting of Thalas itself. The energy they unleashed altered the very fabric of the world, creating new landscapes while obliterating the old. Yet, even amidst the destruction, there was a sense of awe, for these dragons were not merely beasts but living embodiments of elemental and magical power, destined to reshape the fate of Thalas forever.  

The Thals

As the world of Thalas teetered on the brink of annihilation, hope came not in the form of armies or kings, but from the divine. The Thals, the benevolent gods of the old pantheon, came from the their hiding to stand with the remnants of life against the overwhelming might of the primordial dragons.
  The Thals did not appear with blinding conquest or terrifying wrath but with awe-inspiring grace and a presence that brought a momentary stillness to the chaos. Each Thal chose a form that resonated with humanity—beings of radiant light, towering figures of compassion, or manifestations of nature’s harmony, so that they would inspire courage rather than fear. Their arrival was marked by celestial phenomena that cut through the darkness.
  The names of few of them still vibrates in archives of history:
Archanos, Serenis, Sylvara, Uva, Theja, and many more...

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The War of Thalas began as a clash between gods of elemental chaos and the fragile remnants of mortal ambition. Once hatched, the primordial dragons did not emerge as unified beings but as titanic forces, each driven by an instinct to dominate. Their power reshaped the world, and their conflicts marked the beginning of humanity’s fall.

Aliance of Thalas
Though their power was great, the Thals were not invincible. Each act of intervention drained them, for they were beings of balance, and this war was one of pure chaos. They made sacrifices to tip the scales, knowing that their efforts would only delay the inevitable unless humanity rose alongside them.   The Thals appeared not to conquer but to serve as guardians and inspirers, showing the mortal races that they were not alone. Their presence rekindled hope in a world gripped by despair, and in the hearts of those who followed them, the flames of resistance began to burn anew. Together, mortals and gods forged a fragile alliance, one that would determine the fate of Thalas.  

Battle of Sundering Skies

The first clash between the united forces of the Thals, their chosen human champions, and the primordial dragons was an event of legendary scale—an epic confrontation that forever changed the balance of power in Thalas. This battle, known as the Battle of Sundering Skies, marked the dawn of organized resistance against the dragons’ reign of chaos.

Battle of Wings

Decades after the first confrontation, the forces of Thalas faced an even graver threat in the Second Battle, as the primordial dragons unleashed their progeny upon the world. These younger dragons, born from the raw chaos and magic of their parents, were smaller but no less ferocious, and they numbered in the thousands. This time, humanity and the Thals faced not just elemental forces of devastation but an organized onslaught of a living, breathing dragon army.

The Rise of the Brood
The primordial dragons had not been idle since their retreat. Drawing on the raw archana of Thalas, they created spawning grounds deep within their domains—molten craters, frozen abysses, storm-wracked peaks, and poisoned swamps. From these places emerged the children of the Primordials, dragons imbued with a fragment of their progenitors’ elemental power. Unlike their titanic parents, these offspring were swift and cunning, able to overwhelm their foes with sheer numbers and coordinated assaults. Some were winged terrors, scorching the skies and raining destruction upon cities. Others burrowed through the earth, erupting beneath fortifications to spread chaos. A particularly fearsome breed, the Archon Bane, was crafted to hunt and kill the Thals’ chosen warriors, their claws and teeth infused with magic-resistant scales.

The Gathering Forces
As reports of the dragon brood's expansion spread, humanity turned to the Thals once more. The gods, though weakened from the first battle, rallied their strength to unite the fractured nations of Thalas. Great forges roared to life, crafting weapons infused with divine essence. The Archons, diminished but still resolute, returned to lead the charge, bolstered by new champions from the surviving clans. A massive coalition was formed, larger than any seen since the Cataclysm, gathering on the plains near the storm-wracked cliffs of Zarynth, where the Tempest Dragon’s brood had gathered. This place, a nexus of elemental chaos, became the stage for the Second Battle.

The Battle of Zarynth
The battle began with an overwhelming assault by the dragons. Waves of fire, lightning, poison, and frost erupted from their ranks, turning the battlefield into a chaotic maelstrom. The sky darkened as winged broodlings descended in swarms, while ground-shaking wyrms emerged from beneath, their armored bodies impervious to conventional weaponry. Humanity's forces, though united, struggled to withstand the assault. Entire battalions were incinerated by dragonfire or swept away by storms. The Thals themselves entered the fray, their radiant forms illuminating the darkness. Thal Aetheron led the charge with his golden spear, striking down dragonspawn in streaks of light, while Thal Serenis wove barriers of protection, saving countless lives from certain death. Yet for every dragon slain, more seemed to rise from the shadows.
The tide began to shift when the coalition unveiled a desperate gambit: the Celestial Arsenal, weapons forged with the concentrated energy of the Archanic shards. These weapons, wielded by the Archons and elite warriors, cut through the dragons’ scales and turned their own elemental forces against them. The Thals, too, unleashed their full power. Thal Sylvara, the Mistress of the Seas, summoned a tidal wave that extinguished the Infernal brood’s flames. Thal Zephyron, the Stormkeeper, redirected the Tempest brood’s lightning back upon them, shattering their ranks. The pivotal moment came when Thal Lysara, the Goddess of Sacrifice, used her own essence to seal one of the primordial spawning grounds, severing the brood’s connection to their progenitors. Her selfless act weakened the entire dragon army, leaving them vulnerable to mortal strikes.

Victory at a Cost
After years of relentless combat, the dragonspawn were finally broken. The few survivors fled into the wilderness, leaderless and scattered. The Tempest Dragon, enraged by the loss of its brood, descended upon the battlefield in a final act of vengeance but was driven off by the combined might of the Thals and Archons. Though victorious, the cost was staggering. Entire legions of mortals lay dead, and several Thals, including Lysara, were lost to the effort. The land itself bore the scars of the battle—craters of fused glass, charred forests, and rivers frozen solid by unleashed elemental power.

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The final confrontation between the forces of humanity and the primordial dragons was the darkest chapter in the history of Thalas. It was a battle where hope flickered like a dying ember, and the survival of the world came at an unimaginable cost. Dragons came back after long time of silence. As the dragons' fury grew, their relentless assaults pushed the armies of mortals and their Thal allies to the brink of annihilation. Entire cities were consumed by fire, storms, ice, and poison. The primordial dragons, their strength undiminished, unleashed their elemental wrath with terrifying precision, while their brood swarmed the battlefield, leaving no quarter for the living. Despair gripped humanity as the Thals—once their radiant saviors—seemed to abandon them. The divine beings vanished without explanation, leaving mortals to face the dragons alone. Bitter cries of betrayal echoed across battlefields as the armies of men, elves, dwarves, orcs, and others fell in staggering numbers.

The Secret Sacrifice
Unbeknownst to the mortals, the Thals had not forsaken them but had retreated to enact a desperate and final plan. Gathering atop seven sacred mountains, the Thals devised a way to imprison the primordial dragons forever. They would bind the essence of the seven primordial dragons to these mountains, creating unbreakable prisons of stone and magic. The cost, however, was unthinkable. Each prison required the sacrifice of a Thal’s very essence to maintain the binding. One by one, seven of the Thals gave their lives in this ultimate act of selflessness, their divine forms dissolving into raw energy that infused the mountains. Their sacrifice turned these peaks into eternal chains for the primordial dragons, but it also marked the loss of some of the most beloved and powerful of the Thals.


The Return of the Thals
As the war seemed lost and the last remnants of humanity prepared for a final stand, the Thals returned. Their sudden reappearance ignited a spark of hope among the desperate mortals. Yet this was no mere intervention—the Thals had come to enact their plan. With great cunning and power, the Thals lured the primordial dragons toward the seven mountains. The gods' radiant forms danced across the battlefield, drawing the dragons into a climactic chase. As the dragons neared the sacred peaks, the Thals unleashed their combined might to drive the beasts into the prisons. The mountains themselves came alive, their peaks glowing with divine energy. The earth trembled and split as the binding rituals took hold, sealing each primordial dragon within its chosen mountain. Roars of fury echoed across Thalas as the dragons were shackled, their immense power subdued, their wrath contained at last.

But father? Did they manage to trap all seven dragons?

The Cost of Victory
The battle was over, but the victory came at a devastating cost. The mortal armies were decimated, their numbers reduced to a fraction of what they had been. Entire races were left on the brink of extinction. The Thals’ sacrifices were hidden from mortal eyes, and to the survivors, it seemed as though the gods had abandoned them at their darkest hour, only to return when the dragons were weakened. This misunderstanding bred resentment and hatred among the races. Humans, elves, dwarves, and orcs—once united in purpose—turned on their divine allies, cursing their name and branding them as traitors.
The Thals that sacrffice themselves: Arionis, Virelith, Sylvara, Eryndor, Lysara, Zephyron and Serenis.

The Thals’ Departure
Heartbroken and enraged by the ingratitude of mortals, the Thals chose to leave hide. They had given everything—guidance, power, and even their own lives—only to be scorned. As they prepared to leave, they cast a final curse upon the races of Thalas:

“You who have spurned us shall never know unity again. Your hearts will turn against one another, and your pride will keep you from the harmony you once knew. This is the burden you shall bear for scorning the divine.”

— The last words of Thals.

With those words, the Thals disappeared, retreating into the hidden corners of the world. Their radiance faded, and their voices were silenced, leaving mortals to fend for themselves.

The Aftermath
The world they left behind was broken, scarred by the war. The races of Thalas, once united in purpose, fell into bitter rivalries and distrust. The memory of the Thals became a contentious subject—some viewed them as saviors who had been unjustly maligned, while others saw them as cowards who had abandoned their creations. The seven mountains, now known as the Eternal Peaks, became both revered and feared. Legends grew around the prisons, warning that the primordial dragons could one day escape if the bindings were ever broken.

Father, where are those mountains?... No one knows that anymore, son.

The Thals themselves became figures of myth, their names fading into obscurity as centuries passed. Yet their absence was felt in every corner of Thalas, a lingering void that no mortal power could fill. Thus ended the war of Thalas—an era of unity forged in fire and shattered by misunderstanding. The world would never again see the light of the Thals, and the burden of survival now rested solely on the shoulders of the living.

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The Disintegration of Cohesion:

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After the Thals' departure and the final, devastating battle against the dragons, the once-united races of Thalas began to fragment. The world had been bound together by the shared goal of survival, but with the disappearance of their divine benefactors, the tenuous bonds that held society together began to unravel. Humanity, elves, dwarves, orcs, and other races—who had fought side by side, trusting in the Thals and their guidance—were left to pick up the pieces of a shattered world. The bitter memories of abandonment festered, with each race holding its own resentment towards the Thals for what they perceived as divine betrayal. Without the Thals' leadership and support, suspicion began to breed distrust.

Factions Forming:
Humanity, once united under the banner of survival, splintered into competing kingdoms and city-states, each seeking to assert dominance over the others. Leaders became paranoid, believing that any alliance could be used as a stepping stone for control, leading to betrayals and power struggles. The Elves, who had once worked harmoniously with the other races, turned inward, retreating into their ancient forests. They became distrustful of outsiders, afraid that any interaction with other races would further damage the fragile peace that remained. The Dwarves, known for their tenacity and craftsmanship, turned to isolationism. Their underground cities, once open to trade and collaboration, were now walled off from the world above. Their trust in the other races shattered, they hoarded knowledge and resources, unwilling to share them for fear of exploitation. The Orcs, who had fought for survival and pride, became fractured into warring clans. Without the threat of the dragons to unite them, old grudges and rivalries were reignited, and the once formidable orc forces were divided and weak.

The Curse of Division:
The Thals' final curse—“You shall never know unity again”—began to take root. The very fabric of the races of Thalas had been torn apart by their bitterness and betrayal. Every attempt to form alliances, whether political or military, was doomed to failure. Even trade between nations became a source of conflict, as each race viewed the others as potential enemies or rivals. In every settlement, suspicion hung in the air like a thick fog. Old wounds from the war lingered, and even though the dragons were imprisoned, their echoes of destruction still haunted the land. The memories of those who had sacrificed everything for a fleeting victory were drowned out by the voices of those who blamed them for the pain they now endured.

The Legacy of Disintegration:
The result was a fractured world, a place where collaboration became a distant dream. The races of Thalas turned inward, focusing only on their survival and power, and any notion of a united future seemed impossible. The bitterness passed down through generations became a poison in the hearts of the living, and the hope for a united Thalas faded into myth. The Disintegration of Cohesion marked the beginning of an age of isolation, distrust, and endless conflict, as the memory of the Thals—once beloved gods—became nothing more than an aching, bitter legend. Their sacrifice, meant to save the world, had inadvertently condemned it to a future divided, where the light of unity would never again shine.