Rotael is a small island continent in my world. This piece of history was written by a chronicler living on another continent, probably around what would be the late Middle Ages or early Renaissance in our world, but would have occured around Roman times.

Disclaimer: This is my only piece of history so far, so any other parts of history that are referred to, I know absolutely nothing about.
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Rotael is a wild land. A continent covered in craggy mountains, deep lakes, raging rivers, and wild forests. Frantic winds fly through as the rivers threaten to overflow their banks. Fires rage unlit by any man's hand, and it is said that the trees move and sing. Only the bravest explorers venture there, and few return the same. For it is the land where legends are alive.

Hundreds of years ago, before the Great War, all twelve races lived in peace and harmony. They worked side by side, easily rebuffing the few attacks made by the four races of destruction.

But then the Great War erupted. And when the carnage ended, the Elementals left the settled continents, forced away by the remaining eight races.

With no hope of return, the Elementals fled to Rotael. But there they turned against each other, each race blaming the others for their banishment.

War raged between the four races, enlarging the already strong gap that stood between them. At its end, the Sylphs retreated to the mountains, the Naiads to the water, and the Dryads to the forests. Only the Taians were left to wander, and wander they did, leaving charred paths behind them. Precious few Elementals were brave enough to wander into the rest of the world and no record exists of their fate.

As for the rest of Saemyr, the Elementals soon passed from remembrance. They became merely the peoples of legend, good for stories but most certainly not real. Over time, most people came to disregard the legends. Only the wisest of men believe their existence, and only the most foolish and superstitious attribute the rare southerly gales to the Sylphs' anger, the unsettled southern ocean to the Naiads' frolics, or the southern lights to the Taians' wanderings. Rotael is avoided, its people forgotten.

Ooh, that was a nice read, Raven! I really enjoyed it! Very interesting.



That grabbed my interest immediately, I just had to read the rest of it. I do hope you share more with us?

Thank you, Elanor!



I will....once I come up with it.

Very interesting. I enjoyed reading it.


I hope that happens soon.

@Raven: Great way to keep me torn between wanting to read TMB and this story More, more!

eru

Thanks!



*chuckles* I'll see what I can do.



*chuckles* Well then I suppose it is good for you that I won't be writing this story for a while yet.

Good for me? If by good you mean longing and much wasted time spent wanting to read said story, then yes You'll just have to pacify me with TMB

eru

You flatter me, sir. (and you still have to wait until October )

eru

Very nicely done.

Thank you, Philli.

Again, still no dating system...but this would have taken place around the Elizabethan period in our world... *really needs to make a history overview so she can make a dating system*
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An Expedition to Rotael
The Journal of Captain Bannil Iasalori

Day 1:
Left Runis early this morning, my men and I burning with anticipation. We are the first in many generations to venture to Rotael, and we are determined to be the first to conquer that lifeless land. Ships' logs and journals warn of the inhabitants of the land, but we know better than to accept that as more than the ravings of superstitious, ueducated men. So we go forward with hope and not a little anticipation.


Day 4:
It seems as though the sea is against us. Even in the worst of times, gales from the south are rare. But yet they attack us now with unrelenting force. Ever since we left Runis we have had to sail against the wind, making our going very slow. One of my men approached me, asking if it was not the doing of sylphs. I laughed in his face.


Day 9:
For days, it has taken all our energy to stay afloat and press on to Rotael. The sea has joined the wind in working against us, tossing our ship like a piece of driftwood. Never, in all my years on the sea, has there been a storm such as this. Progress is extremely slow.

There are whispers among the men that the storm is meant to keep us from our goal, that we should turn back. When I heard of it, I upbraided them for being spineless women and ordered them to continue. Elshaddai only knows if this decision was a fool's.


Day 12:
The storm calmed yesterday, leaving us to sail on unimpeded, a light northern wind hastening our course. As the sun set, we caught sight of Rotael's northern shore. We will reach harbour by dawn.


Day 13:
We waited until dawn before landing in a natural harbour. Leaving some behind in the ship, I and a few of my men took a rowboat to shore. I could feel the unease of my men as we stepped onto the land.

We scouted the area carefully, looking for signs of life. As I expected, we found none. No member of any race had marred the natural beauty of the place. Father inland, we saw burned swaths through the forest, no doubt caused by a forest fire. I sent the rowboat back for the rest of my men, and we made camp.

The wind began again, tossing our ship to and fro and howling in our ear. One of the men reported seeing a fire blazing on the nearest mountain. I have instructed my men to watch it to ensure it does not come towards the camp.


Day 14:
It has been a day of great stress and anxiety. for all of us. We left camp to explore Rotael at first light. We came to a creek and prepared to ford it, but as the first man stepped into it, it was as though the shallow creek bed suddenly shifted under his feet, and he began to drown. Another quickly grabbed a branch and held it out to him. He was brought to shore with great difficulty. He claimed at the top of his lungs that the water had felt like finger trying to choke him. It took me a good while to calm him down. I glanced at the creek as we left, and it looked just as shallow as before.

We came to a place where rocks provided a crossing. My men refused to cross, afraid the ground would open under them. Only when I crossed safely would they agree to follow.

As we advanced over an open plain, I could feel my men's nervousness and wondered why I brought such a superstitious crew. I walked ahead of them, intent on reaching the base of the mountain on which the fire blazed. A cry caused me to turn around to find that two of the men had fallen into a hole that did not exist but a moment before. We fished them out with difficulty before continuing on toward the mountain.

The men lagged behind, clustered together in fear. Suddenly, a great wind began to blow, such that we could hardly stand up. It took our breath away with its ferocity, and we could make no progress at all.

We turned around, and the wind helpfully pushed us back towards camp. We reached it without any further incident. As we sat around a hasitly lit fire, the men began again to murmur amongst themselves.
"Sir," one of them said, "something seems to dislike our intrusion. Perhaps the elementals-"
"Don't be superstitious," I replied. "Elementals are only legend."
"Aia oeai?" a voice seemed to say on the wind. And then haltingly, "Only legend?"

My men sprang to their feet, drawing their swords, and my own hand stole to the hilt of my sword. Suddenly, a fire sprang up, encircling us, the wind blew with all the ferocity of an ocean gale, the ocean's waters began to rise, and the earth quaked beneath us. It contanued for a moment before subsiding. But the calm brought no relief.

The retreat of nature left behind what I had scorned as legend only minutes before. Elementals. They completely encircled our camp, a ranbow of colour. Their appearance was menacing, and they seemed prepared to do battle.
"Wh-what do you want with us?" I asked, my nerve gone.
"Perhaps a better question is: what do you want with us, with our land?" one replied.
I could not have my men think me a coward, so I responded with the truth. "Glory. We want to be the first to conquer the land, to open it for settlement."
The elemental frowned. "Hundreds upon hundreds of years ago, you forced us here. Would you now take our new home, the only place left to be our home, from us by force? I think not. What you experienced today was nothing. And if you do not leave Rotael forever at dawn, it will only be the beginning."

Suddenly, all was quiet and still around us, the elementals gone. My men looked at me.
"We leave at first light." I said.

Day 15:
Set sail from Rotael this morning. The wind that so opposed us coming here now fills our sails and sends us swiftly home. The people awaiting us will only be told that Rotael is an uninhabitable wasteland. It would ruin my and my crew's reputation as seamen forever if they knew how we were cowed by the island-continent's inhabitants. Though I do not know how we shall hide what this journey has done to us.