In all of my days, I can honestly say that I am proud of who I am, and who my people are. We have done many things for the good of all who dwell on this world, but there is one instance which is forever indelibly scarred into my memory. I myself am normally seen as a human, it is simply what and who I have been for centuries and I am accustomed to it, others, take on less savory forms, and just knowing this fact should have raised my suspicions about the one known as Thryn, he who was always seen as a goblin, and nothing else. I should have known and acted, but I did not, and it this that sorrows me.

Thryn was never too involved in creating anything, he had no love of magic, no great like of nature, what Thryn was enthralled by was power, and little else. He had his share of power, as do most of my people, but this was not the power he sought, he sought the power to rule over all. this was not something he could accomplish on his own, and he knew this fact quite well. He had little sway with the houses, by his own choosing, so his grasp was not there. Where Thryn did have a swell of support was with those whom he mimicked in appearance, the goblins of the world. Now goblins are not the brightest of folk, nor are they the strongest, sturdiest, prettiest, or quickest. What goblins did have in their favor was sheer numbers, and Thryn began his long drawn out process of funneling those numbers to do his bidding.

The goblins had no leader, they had no general, they had no purpose, they were simply a massive horde of slight potential. This potential was honed to a killing edge by my brethren, a phrase I use quite loosely, Thryn. He found allies in the orcs, trolls, and half-breeds of the world, those with a bit more smarts and cunning than his masses had, and in those people he found his leaders, his elite troops, and in these he put the most weight of his plan upon their shoulders. While having amassed tens of thousands of soldiers, he knew this was not enough, that the forces of the nobles would be able to crush him like a grape in their hand, so he turned one of their very own against them, Desmon Tirome, a Duke of the Realm, and one of the leaders of the allied noble houses.

Desmon was not so stupid as to openly ally himself with Thryn and his hordes, instead he funneled supplies, advisors, money, and materials to the ever-growing army. It was Desmon's treachery that truly gave Thyrn's forces their teeth they would need to gnaw at the forces sent by the nobles to deter them, and sharp teeth they were indeed. Now armed with the finest steel weapons, fortified with supply trains, and equipped with siege machinery, the goblins of Thryn's army, and their allies moved on their first target, the Duchy of Brynn.

Of all of the major houses, Brynn was admittedly the weakest, and specifically targeted by Desmon for destruction, and destroyed it was, and in the mere blink of an eye, the wars began. Brynn was assaulted at night from the north, completely over-run in a matter of minutes, walls were ripped from their foundations, heads were ripped from their bodies, and a Ducal family was ripped from its seat, killed one by one in the great hall of their very own keep. Oddly, the keep was sacked with frightening speed, and then a retreat was put in place and the attackers melted away in the night, so quickly and quietly that not even the populace of nearby Quessa was alerted of the destruction until the smoke carried the stench of burning corpses to the noses of the townsfolk.

The outcry for revenge was great after the fall of Brynn, and arms were taken up en masse by the noble houses of Kirganthis, even that of the Duchy of Tirome. Riverdale was the site of a large number of initial skirmishes, ones in which Thryn literally threw his forces at the walls of the noble ranks. One has never seen such mass depravity as when troops who are wounded in battle are lit aflame with oil and shot from siege engines while still very much alive, and very much screaming. There were those servants of the dark art of necromancy in the ranks of Thryn's armies who felt that even the crippled and those near death still had a purpose to fulfill, even if it meant slamming into a mounted knight's horse or splattered against a battlement, or even used to scale walls, for even piles of the dead were used as ramps for the more lively cohorts to scurry over.

If not for the sheer numbers of Thryn's forces, the wars would have been over in a rather short period of time, but Thryn was not about to give up without taking over at least one of his main objectives, the free city of Stonegate, the city held under protection by the noble houses, but ruled by none of them. The attack on Stonegate was fierce, and two-pronged in nature. One attack came from the direct south, and another from the north, in an attempt to cut off reinforcements from the barony of Karathos, and the Knights of Lunarou, both to be found north of the city. What was one thought impossible had come to fruition, the city of Stonegate was under siege. The forces of Riverdale were nearly spent in the defense of their town, so they were of no use, but some did find their way northwards to fight. Brynn was essentially decimated, and Tirome's forces, saw little action, little fighting, and even fewer deaths in their ranks. Outnumbered and with stores dwindling greatly, the siege of the city began to take its toll on the defenders. Disease killed off a portion of the civilians, and the graves began to pile up, with no one having a way to leave the city.

It was at this time that a miracle of sorts happened, or so most people think. Dwarves began to hack their way through the northern ranks of Thryn's army, and managed to break the siege long enough to re-supply the defenders of the city. Thane Helia's forces bolstered the morale and spirits of the human soldiers, and with General Modron and her involved in planning, the counter-attack against the goblins was in full swing. Attacked slowly and methodically, the goblins' ranks dwindled in places, and in others completely disappeared. This was seen as a great victory for the allied forces, and the celebration was a great thing to watch from my vantage point I had at the top of the Academie's highest parapet. This celebration was very short lived for the goblins attacked again in earnest, destroying the Northgate of the city and killing thousands of celebrating defenders in the process, among them the sole elven elder who aided in the defense, Orel Silverleaf, a mage of great refute, and one of the most powerful of the elven magi.

Enraged at the assistance of the dwarves, and the one lone elf, Thryn lost all patience and stopped his assault of Stonegate. He knew it would mean the end of his armies if he continued, so he quickly set upon a new goal, one of revenge. Leading small groups of troops deep into the lands held by the elves and dwarves, Thryn set his troops to destroying everything in their path, trees, mines, villages, peasants, roads, bridges, and anything that basically moved. While this final act of Thryn's madness was a short one, it was the most gruesome. He let his troops run rampant with little control, simply a destructive blight on the land. Elves were killed in droves, and eaten, especially the children who were found. Dwarves were killed with unequalled abandon, and bodies were hung from trees, poles, and anything else that would support the weight, oddly in most cases dressed up in heavy make-up and feminine attire, a personal message from Thryn who felt the dwarves had whored themselves out to the humans for money for their assistance. As the humans dug themselves out of their trenches, buried their dead, and began to take stock in their losses, it was the dwarves and elves which finally finished off the armies of the now completely mad Thryn.

Desmon was found to be guilty of treason for his acts, and he was hung and dismembered in payment, and his house banished from the noble ranks. He did somehow find a pardon of sorts for his son, who was placed in exile, along with most of the Tirome household (and gold). Stonegate was built anew, bigger and stronger from the rubble of the old city. The alliance between the dwarves of Brulan and Hightrove and the human nobles was forged even stronger than it was in the past, and the elves became even more elusive than they had been in the past, protecting their borders with legions of scouts who could rarely be heard, let alone seen. Old houses crumbled, newer ones became stronger, and two disappeared from power completely. And as for mad old Thryn, it was my job to take care of him, and he rather likes the cave he lives in, completely in the dark, shackled, and with no one to talk to but himself.

War is a horrible thing, but out of war comes new hope, and rememberance of things past that shall not be repeated, I simply hope that this is the case in this instance. . .