After Stygian was defeated, the Alliance formed the Council of Nations in the hopes that they would be able to govern all of Nälu in a manner most befitting the majority of the people and yet sensitive to the varying cultures represented. And to balance out the influence of the newly appointed guardians. Not everyone was fond of them.
But through the millennium, the Alliance faded and several nations have since broken away. Particularly the Stozic dwarf clan, the feline shapeshifting Haruzo of Arashel, and the Wofsehemor elves of Striisa Vaar.
There were various reasons why they broke away, but one thing they opposed the most, was the Council’s decision on how to punish thieves and murderers–not that their idea was any better. Arashel actually reverted back to the removal of limbs or head, depending on the crimes committed.
The Council’s idea of proper punishment for the varying degrees of crimes committed was to brand them and exile them to Durqa, an arid land in the northern desert of Zriab. Out of sight, out of mind, never having to deal with them again, and others would think twice about breaking the law, or so they thought.
Branded as outcasts, shunned from the rest of the world, yet in their inner hearts pulsed the same need that burned in everyone else. The need for food, shelter, family, love… Years upon years, the people of Durqa forged a new life, yet forever condemned to Durqa. Their babies are branded at birth, though, they’d never committed a crime. Now a nation is rising up from the desert. A nation of unrest and ripe for war, desiring more than the cramped land they live and a hope for a better life. But what hope could a nation of outcasts have?
And then came Lord Derk. The man who became their king and offered them a dream to rule the world. Many eagerly agreed, but at what cost?