The War Zone of Iritrid

Main Regions: Linstein, Tringa, Phyleira, Iron Fist Valley

Inhabitants: Barbarians, Humans, Dwarves, Dark Elves, Gnomes, Goblins
Landskape: Forested, Deserts, Swamps, Mountains, Snow Tundra, Jungles
Population: 30.4 million



The Barbarian tribes were just that, barbaric. Savage nature ran through them like an aggressive cancer. For miles around, they pillaged and killed the good people of the land for wherever reason they wished, mostly for no reason. The gathered peoples and travelers from all around stayed away from these monstrous terrors.

It was not until Linstein, one of the largest and strongest of the Barbarians that became weary of the needless bloodshed, and took it upon himself to gather a brigade of those he called his brothers. He scolded those who attacked bystanders for no other reason than to gain food that they could have easily gotten on their own without killing, and if they retaliated, Linstein obligued them with their own death. It wasn't long before he gained more followers of his word, and fought to keep a peace among them that started to grow across the land of the Barbarians. 

The boarish pilager, Nirith did not buy into any of this peaceful nonsense, as he put it, and sought to thwart Linstein with his own band of merciless brutes. There were several small encounters with these Barbarians, but it wasn't until Linstein had said enough, pointed his finger at Nirith, and challenged him. Linstein rallied all of his men and charged all of Nirith's group. It was a legendary rampage of death, and it took all of his foes totally by surprise. Wielding his sacred, giant sword, Linstein laid down the law of the land that day. Even with the pillager himself opposed

Linstein in single combat, it took no time at all to disarm the bestial man, literally. Both of his limbs were dispatched, and before Nirith bled to death, Linstein recited a new law, one that still lived until ages passed.

Before Linstein's death, he sired eight sons, and four daughters, none of which claimed leadership over the land. It is an interesting fact that Linstein's closest friend took up the crown and brought his dearest friend's legacy into the next generation, but passed the title on to Linstein's grandson, Artis. 

There it continued, and the Barbarian hordes which plagued the land now sought honor in death and blood, instead of pleasure. The legacy of Linstein was never forgotten, nor would it ever be in the eyes of all of his subjects which carried it to the fifth age.


Named after the Dwarf's God of creation and beer, Tringa is a mining country located deep in a vast range of mountains. Ruled over by King Baldo Goldenale, the mountains serve as not only a huge home for the short, stout, hearty warriors, but also as a gigantic wall to keep the Dark Elves away from both them and Linstein. Their history is filled with both turmoil and victory, riches and sickness, but none of them outweigh the hardships that they went through with both the Under Dwarves and the Dark Elves both terrorizing their mine tunnels at the same time. In the middle of the fifth age, battle almost shook the mines of Tringa apart to nothing but rocks. 

It almost seemed impossible to end such a bloody conflict, but that was up until Runga Roughbeard took the reigns of the war as the General of the Tringa Militia and strategized all of their dwarven
Dwarf city by kanaru92-d5o7zi2
warriors in a way that not only protected their valuable citizens, but also made it to where they could break the ranks of the enemy onslaught. By the time they were almost completely out of resources and personnel, a miracle occured. The Alimar fleet entered Mepherius from the south, completely blind-siding the Dark Elves and finished off the vast majority of them. 

After that, the people of Tringa breathed a sigh of relief, and began to rebuild. They prospered for several years after that, and even named the single closest mountain in the east Drow Mountain, a memorial to their victory. It also celebrates the nation of Tringa joining the Pact of the Crown. 

Though they joined the Pact, there are several regions in Tringa that still do not take kindly to outsiders. Although, they are not allowed to lash out with violence against them, but they are not at all pleasant with them. The capital of Tring is located deep into the heart of the mountain land, and a condition of their Pact of the Crown treaty was that no outsiders are allowed into the capital of Tring without special permission from the royal family themselves. 

Still, the Dwaves are the highest contributors in Phyleira, having all sorts of goods and precious stones gained from their journey deep into their mountains, as well as very well crafted weapons and armor. They are rich with fine metals, and make some of the heaviest armor that draws a great deal of Barbarians to their stores.

While the Under Dwarves have gone into hiding since the War on the Peaks, they are still a great danger to all mountaineers who dare to venture too far into the southern parts of Tringa. The Dwarves have attempted to make amends with their fallen brothers, but that has never come to any fruitful conclusions.


The merchant capital of the world, and home to people of many races. Many merchants who do not live there are vigorously saving money to go there. Dwarves prosper there on a very regular basis and it is also the place with the largest structures ever built, many of them for travelers who have very steep pockets. While there have been some racial differences between some of the locals that are, indeed, Dark Elves and Orcs, they have at least been attempted to set aside.

Still, while it is the most prosperous country in Mepherius, there is always another side of the coin. There are many crime syndicates that make their nests among the streets in the cities of Phyleira, especially in its
A medieval town by narandel-d6f8lks
capital, Mendos. The King, Phillip Owas IV has charged a considerable group of knights and warriors to scour the streets and lesser parts of Phyleira in search for the roots that nest these foul ne'er-do-wells. 

This country is the first and only to have peace treaties with all active homelands in Merl, sans the Ogres of New Grito. However, this does not mean that they are fully upheld. In many of the larger cities, there are different districts for different races. The Dark Elves normally keep to themselves, and only seem to deal with the more unscrupulous types of thieves and back-handed merchants. 

Phyleira has its quirks, and it is a wonderful place to live, but it is extremely expensive to do so. You either need to have lordship or an amazingly fruitful business to afford even a moderate success in living quarters. For the most part, it is a wonderful place to take a holiday. 

Iron Fist Valley

The darkest region of Mepherius, and for good reason. The Dark Elves have a very long standing history in Merl, dating back to the fabled time when the elves were born. It started with one elf. Jera, Goddess of Lust and Darkness, and creator of the Dark Elves. She created a nameless first, one without a name, but who was said to be without a heart. He alone went to the underground, and killed anything that he wished. Over a period of time, he cleared out almost every living creature underneath the crust of the world and made his home there. Even after Linasi left that plane, Jera was still plotting against the elves, and sent them mere suggestions. It wasn't long before Jera took new subjects, twisted them, and molded them in her new image. That is when one dark elf turned into many. 

The one they called the first, primordial dark elf was said to grasp his rule immediately, but that was only for one day. He underestimated how cruel his new found family could be, and he was stricken immediately and killed, so that this new group could squabble for power on their own. 

It wasn't long before a daughter was born. The very first child born among a brand new race. She was named Kira, and from the day she could speak, she was ordering everyone around, being pampered to the point of being over-priviledged. Over the years, Kira was quickly becoming the undesputed ruler over the ever growing race. Whatever she said was the law, no matter how impossibly depraved. That was when she came of age, and was so convinced that her presence was that of Godliness, she wanted her own child, and have it be perfect. 

To everyone's grotesque surprise, she pointed to her own father, and demanded he impregnate her so that she would remake her own existence. For the first time, her father
Welcome to the underdark by gravihk-d600l71
refused, accusing her of the worst vanity imaginable. This enraged Kira to the point of absolute insanity. She got both of her parents together, and with a dagger, she killed the both of them, and removed their hearts. To the Goddess, Jera she held up both of their hearts and prayed to her, asking that she be blessed with a child. 

Jera smiled upon this act, and granted her wish. However, upon the child's birth, Kira could not handle such a strain, and died as a result. With Kira's death, the now ever-spreading families of Dark Elves began to fight over which of them would rule over the entire race. The baby lived, but in the confusion, it was lost from the history books.

Thus began a hundred years of battle among themselves over the power of the under-land. It wasn't until the war erupted, with death and betrayal, that Jera truly showed herself once again. A nameless dark elf, locked in the dungeon of a family's torture chamber for the simple reason of being nameless, had been in bondage inside there for more than a year. For some reason, no matter what they did to him, he would not die. Jera simply walked into the dungeon, killed the guards with a simple glance, and took him up. She made love to him, and any Dark Elf knows that if you fall under her lustful gaze, you will have six spikes impale you upon penetrating her. 

The Dark Elf did not die. He walked outside where a very large battle was raging, and stopped immediately as the Dark Elf unveiled his bare body, and the six holes in his torso. All backs bent, and bowed to their new, rightful ruler. King Killian was crowned, and given absolute control over the entire race. He cemented his rule over them, and decreed that the Dark Elf population multiply. Without question, they did this, despite there being very little room left in their underground home. 

Killian was proven wise, though. Over two hundred years, King Killian developed a most powerful spell that show-cased his great power. He went to the open world above them, and cast his incantation which loomed a great, black cloud over many acres of the land. This cloud did not move, and never waned once. The Dark Elves were able to come up from the underground, and live among the other races. It was an amazing feat, and only served to spread the word that a new people were showing their dominance. Thus the terror of the Dark Elves began to spread.