[Sanguine415]

Vdalion
2012

In the wake of its victory at the mines, it appeared Vdalion had found itself frozen in stasis. A lack of driving motivation without the worthy enemy of the Hive's former might seemed to leave them unmoving, unheard, a veritable ghost town. Yet, it appeared the Hofgothi of Ymir's Zealots had not wasted his years locked away in meditation in the volcanic temple. Calling forth for the town criers and skalds to spread word, grim news would trail across the land as the deathly chill of the north's frigid cold began to stir again. The words of Shaggard DeGray would be spread to each and every corner of the realm.

I have long tired of whispers in the shadows, it is not the way of the giants. For too long, the Zealots have concealed the dark sorceries tha' we have practiced to revive the shattered god whole, and for too long Vdalion has stagnated with a meaningless peace tha' leaves us rotting away to dust. I send word far an' wide, these are the decrees of the giant priest.

Since the first head fell in the north, we have used the corpses to pursue the truths of negative energy, the potential of stirring our dead god again through the sacrifice of a fragment. A sacrifice worthy of Vdalion, the sacrifice of Vdali. The secrets of the grave keepers have long been kept, and yet hidden in the shadows. No longer. Ymir is dead, and Ymir is alive. To be dead is a holy thing. May the shattered god smite me with his embers if I've mislead my flock, but I am certain this is the age to come in my dreams.

It appears the news was ordered to be spread far and wide, deathly pale riders that disappeared like shadows in the night as the horns of the mountain were blown.

The sons and daughters of Caius, the only faithful son of Ymir, I welcome ye' to return. The dead shall walk in Vdalion, no longer shall ye' need to hide in shadows an' fear prostration. The empire of the north comes again. With my authority as Hofgothi, I declare the Kingsmoot. The head crowned shall lead the way for the grand and intoxicatin' war to come. It was us all along, younger races, that ye' shouldn't have forgotten.

-Vdalion once more welcomes home its necromancers and undead, especially Kenneth. The practice of the dark art flourishes once more in the halls of Ymir's temple. 

-Rumor is spread of plans to pursue the slumbering depths where Vdali lays to sacrifice him, that a fragment of Ymir might be restored.

-The Kingsmoot is called; a king shall be crowned amongst the giants to lead in the coming wars at last; decided with arguments made at the coming event.

-Dark whispers of a project known only as the Spine of Ymir echo through the cold winds of the north; a runic pillar capable of binding undead and enforcing authority over their being.

Relations: 

Those that are with us: Allies

Those that are against us: Enemies