The History of Tor Anroc and the Lost Guard

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Hey, I'm a member of the EU Lost Guard of Tor Anroc, a Warhammer Online High Elf only guild. Recently I've had an attempt at writing the Histories of the city and Guard. This is more of an initial draft but I know that this being Ulthuan.net there will be lots of people willing to correct my lore mistakes and such so hopefully it will improve.
WARNING WALL OF TEXT.

Before you join the lost Guard of Tor Anroc you must know the history of the realm and how it became how it is.

The Sundering.

During the Sundering every settlement of every realm lost some of its population to the dark gods, well all but one, Tor Anroc. The people of Tor Anroc stood strong and resisted all the temptation the chaos gods put before them. Sometime during the Sundering, when the High Elves had been beat back into their great cities and the Druchii stalked the land, the dark gods realized that they could not sway the elves of Tor Anroc, so decided to drown the city beneath the ocean that was its life blood.

A bitter battle soon followed; inch by inch the armies of Tor Anroc were forced off the islands surrounding the city. High Mages battling with double their number of Dark Sorceresses to keep the islands afloat. The seas boiled and the many monsters that had lay, in slumber, at the bottom of the sea-bed now tore through the waves in search of prey. As each High Mage pulled back to the city, the islands they were on sank to the depths. Until finally only one island was left, the isle that contained the city itself.

After days of fighting the evil Mages the ruler of Tor Anroc at that time, the current rulers Father, decided to evacuate the city. A great flight then followed, every large sea-worthy ship had their lower decks and holds packed cheek to jowl with the citizens of the city that hadn’t been called up as militia. While their upper decks contained what was left of the cities militia and once grand army. Every ship that left the cities harbour was accompanied with at least two High Mages. Without these mages the ships would have quickly sunk in the raging storms and been overrun by great sea-beasts. With the mages the ships had a clear passage of calm sea which enabled the ships to reach the small mainland harbor that was owned by the Ashoun Clan. Upon reaching this harbor the ships were abandoned to the sea while the entire population of Tor Anroc fled to the Fortress of Tor Ganralin, which was situated many miles inland.

Once the entire population of the city had been evacuated, only nine elves were left on the island. These were the most powerful mages of Tor Anroc, one of which was the ruler of the city and the head of the Ashoun clan. Slowly the armies of the Evil chaos gods took over the city despite the best efforts of the nine. In a last ditch attempt to prevent the Chaos gods gaining control of the city the remaining mages sunk the city, taking themselves and thousands of Chaos worshipers to the depths.

After seeing their city dragged beneath the waves by the evil of the Chaos Gods and the Dark Elves, the population of Tor Anroc barricaded themselves into the fortress of Tor Ganralin, hate for the Dark Elves burned permanently into their souls. The fortress itself has never been taken over and stood strong against all assaults the Chaos gods threw at it. The Dark Elves turned their attention the fortress soon after Tor Anroc fell, but their attacks failed to break through the Fortresses wall that were carved out the living rock and so for 10 long years they laid siege to the Fortress but eventually the Chaos Gods turned their attention elsewhere and the Dark Elf armies retreated from the Fortress to plague other lands.

Now, the Elves of Tor Anroc are greatly mistrusted by the other elves of Ulthuan because during the Sundering many pleas of help were sent to the army of Tor Anroc but they seemed to be ignored. In fact none of these messages ever reached the army as there was no island or city for the messengers to deliver to. The Fortress of Tor Ganralin was a well kept secret and few elves other than the elves of Tor Anroc knew of it.


The Truth Revealed.

After the siege of Tor Ganralin, Dagda Ashoun sent out envoys to every province of Ulthuan to assess the damage caused by the sundering and to return to their city home of Tor Anroc with news of the situation. Shortly after these envoys left, hundreds of heavy elven cavalry flooded out of the small gate and headed towards the sea and the port that would take them to their home, Tor Anroc. This column was charged with clearing the way for the citizens of Tor Anroc to return home.

Within hours the remainder of the Tor Anroc Guard and the cities civilian population was on the move. A line of elves walked wearily out of the small gateway and along the blood-stained road towards the ocean and their homes. Dagda Ashoun and his inner circle headed the column and were the first to see the dreadful sight.

As they rounded the final spur that hid the ocean from view they saw the destroyed port where the charred skeletons of many ships lay from when they were abandoned in the flight to the fortress of Tor Ganralin, many years earlier. The once seething ocean was calm now, the deep blue waters stretched as far as the eye could see, and to the west there was nothing. Nothing but water all the way to the horizon. No destroyed city. No charred ruins. There was no trace that their island home had ever been there.

The Lost Guard.

Grief struck the citizens of Tor Anroc. The last bit of hope that had remained in everyone’s heart, the hope that they could return home and live in peace, was shattered. All the pain felt for love ones that every elf had lost had return only to be amplified ten-fold. Many elves just dropped whatever they were carrying and slumped to the ground and sat staring out to the ocean where the city once was, all hope and light gone from their eyes.
The leaders of the nation gathered in a circle and decided what to do next, the topmost towers of the city still loomed out of the water like the blackened teeth of some great monster. After hours of discussion it was decided that the Guard of Tor Anroc would divide. Each of Dagda’s trusted generals would take a company and head in separate directions, with orders to exterminate any dark elves or chaos worshiper they came across. One company would remain at the fortress of Tor Ganralin and protect the citizens and craftsmen of Tor Anroc, two would start to build a city on the shores of the coast, the New Tor Anroc, two companies were charged with heading towards the blighted Isle and combating the Druchii there, while yet another two companies would roam the land of Ulthuan and purge it of the Dark Kin. The final two companies which comprised of Dagda's most trusted and veteran warriors and some of his inner circle mages of Tor Anroc with their bodyguards where tasked with re-building Tor Anroc's navy and occupying the towers of the sunken city and creating a series of defensive forts in them. The decision was also made to carry out these plans the next day to allow for a day of grieving for the lives lost in the wars.
The next day as the sun rose Dagda stood on a plinth that had been erected the previous night and said with his voice magically amplified: “The time for grieving is over, there is a dept we are owed. The grand army of Tor Anroc has no home, we are lost, was are The Lost Guard, but we have a purpose. The Druchii sank our fair land and drenched us in blood. Every elf standing here today has lost someone; the Druchii spilt the blood of our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters on this land. But no more. We have been disturbed from our peaceful slumber, the beast has been awoken, and we are owed revenge, and revenge we shall have. The guard is now lost and we are searching for our home. We shall not rest until every Druchii is purged from this land, their kin shall never be allowed to step foot on this land again.
While they still live, we shall still fight.
While they still breathe, we shall not rest.
Our blades are bare. Our armour is strong. Our hearts are afire and we will have our owed revenge.

Old Ruins and New foundations.

More than two thousand years have passed since the sinking of Tor Anroc, and although those years where not uneventful, on the whole they where a time of rebuilding and recovery from the Sundering. The way and how these changes came about are irrelevant to these histories but the results are important.
The Lost Guard of Tor Anroc rebuilt their lives and homes and on the shore of Ulthuan a great city emerged, New Tor Anroc, it was practically an exact copy of the sunken city. A traveler entering the city for the first time would be given the impression of white. Stunning white walls surrounded a city of White Palaces, and white towers and spires. Domes like pearls bore bands of the most brilliant scarlet and the deepest turquoise, while atop of the city’s gate-towers and it’s two tallest towers, the Lord’s and the Council Towers, flew the banners of The Lost Guard and Dagda Ashoun’s personal heraldry.
To the east of this city a great road, paved in white stone connected the city with the fortress of Tor Ganralin and then to the grand Eagle Gate while to the west the ocean stretched out as far as the eye could see, with not a speck of land in sight. The only thing that broke the skyline other than the many ships of the Lost Guards fleet was the Twin Watchtowers of the Sunken City.
Rearing out of the water the grand black and red spires towered above the surrounding water. Around the base of these towers a port of sorts had developed, able to take small merchant ships to the great Dragon ships of Sea Lord Aislinn’s grand fleet, the watchtowers have become a great trading centre. At the pinnacle of the tallest tower, formally the Lord’s Tower, a great warning beacon stood, ready to warn the new city and the fortress of an enemy fleet approaching. The Lord’s Tower is used to hold over three hundred soldiers and the equipment while the smaller of the two towers, formally the Council Tower, is used to house up to one hundred merchants of all races. These towers are accessible from their bases via the walkways that surround them connecting them to the port, there are also two enclosed walkways that join the towers together a third and two-thirds of the way up their length.
Recently, that is to say in the last hundred years, a stone and brick structure has developed around half way up the smaller tower, looking rather like a limpet clasping onto the side of a rock. This rather temperamental addition to the tower is the famous pub of the Lost Guard, The Dragon and the Skull, as proclaimed by the small sign hanging outside of the front door. The Dragon is a large Tavern and home to the famous Druchii blood Sorbet and run by the Ironcrane family, the great feast-masters of Tor Anroc. This Tavern is the starting place of many adventures and great quests.
Although the Watchtower serves as a haven for many there is darkness underneath, you see as the city sank beneath the waves the defensive charms that protected each individual home in case of a flood activated, sealing every house and the underground sewer and cellar system off from the rising waters, leaving them completely dry. This allowed the creatures and corrupt ones that the Druchii brought with them, and the evil that resides at the depths of the ocean to survive in an underwater network. Now, with darkness rising in the north these evil beings have started to stir and often scratching can be heard on the doors of lower levels of the towers. Like something trying to get in. For only the tower that is above the waterline is ever occupied by the elves, so now they have to defend the tower from inside as well as out.
Now rumors have reached the Dragon and the Skull that a great Druchii fleet is coming to Ulthuan and the Lost Guard are preparing to march to destroy this. The History of the Lost Guard is only just beginning and new heroes are ready to rise.


C&C welcome, what do you think?