File #1 - An account of the Battle of Arcanon Major
during the 71st Dynasty of Capíok Dacomé, Ruler of Xiryathon
As told by Halíka Dacomé to Scribe Welíjka
Our home, Xiryathon, lies in the Arcaneda system and is the closest of four planets that orbit twin suns.
The now stark, barren landscape covering the globe was once an industrial metropolis. War, sands, and decay have eaten away at our once-thriving cities leaving us, the Elementals, on the brink of extinction. The rich interior core that our planet was renowned for, the Xerilium—hard, strong, unyielding mined metal—was the main source of interplanetary barter and revenue for many years, but our mines now lay unworkable and as unfruitful as the land above.
Civil war has ravaged Xiryathon for twenty-seven years. Our enemy, the inferior Primord race, has been fighting for an end to the Elemental monarchic rule. Though our races have existed together on the same sphere, we are vastly different. Elementals are an advanced, gifted, superior race of beings, whereas the Primords are not. Squat, malformed, and almost creaturelike in character, the Primords now only take pleasure in the chaos that war provides.
For eons the Primords have accepted the passive good nature of the Elemental ruling class, and have been treated and judged fairly in all aspects of life by their more advanced neighbours.
But the psyche of the Primords has changed in more recent decades. They hunger for control, power, and want nothing more than to end their minority ruling. They savour the taste of bloodshed. They destroy everything that lies in their path. The other larger cities of the planet were left in ruin; the small towns on the edge of the plains were destroyed.
Elemental families who lived outside the protective walls of Arcanon Major were slaughtered, their homes razed to the ground.
And the Primords gloried in the carnage.
We stand on the brink. The final conflict that will leave Xiryathon an anarchic wasteland if the Primords finally win, with the ultimate reward being the total annihilation of the Elemental race.
Only one bright city, one small dominion remains unscathed from the terrible destruction, but the population is ever declining and we are losing hope.
The inner city of Arcanon Major, supreme capital of Xiryathon, is now under siege. All that is left of the Elemental reign now lies here. The twin rows of barricades that circle the inner city are sturdy and well built but remain the only defense for the Elementals. It is only a matter of time before the barricades are breached.
The Elemental army of just four thousand will fight an army over six hundred thousand strong. The Primords are aware that their greatest advantage comes in an Edict written in the 68th Dynasty by Fontíoc Dacomé, an historic Elemental ruler.
In the proclamation, written after a personal tragedy, Fontíoc Dacomé declares that all Elementals are forbidden to use their magical abilities in the time of war.
Battles, the Edict affirms, should be won using only the mettle and brawn of men. Victory can only be deserved if the bravest of all fight with stealth, strength, and honour. Any man caught using magical abilities will face the penalty of dismemberment or incarceration, a choice that only trial can decide. All lands, titles, and rights will also be forfeit to the State.
In four thousand years, no man has dared to violate the Edict. Until the Battle of Arcanon Major.
Halíka Dacomé resides in prison, awaiting news that will change her life forever— exile—and I, Scribe Lydnet Welíjka, will now tell her story.