Thrassick gazed upon the splendor of the royal palace, its towering ivory columns supporting a grand, glistening bronze roof that appeared like a second sun blazing in the sky above his head. This was his first visit to Silvervein, and seeing dwarves live under the sky almost made him fear that he’d fall right into it. But he reminded himself that everything above and below belonged to their kin, and his chest swelled with pride. Merchants called out the day’s prices, and families wandered the plaza below as he gazed over the rest of the city with awe.
The chatter of wandering families and the clamor of busy merchants suddenly ceased, giving way to an unnatural silence, which morphed into screams and pleas for help as a dark shadow blanketed the city. There were no suns in the sky now, only terror and chaos.
Fires engulfed everything, and Silvervein no longer glistened like a jewel in the dwarven crown; it raged with a bloody crimson as the sky turned black with ash and smoke. All around him, people fell, they burned, they cried out, and then they were silenced. As the splendor of the palace began to crumble away, consumed by the inferno, Thrassick wiped his ash-covered face. His eyes stung from the motion, his leg was bleeding, his arm was broken, but the pain in his heart overwhelmed it all.
The age of Silvervein was over. The age of the Red Calamity had begun…
The heart of the empire was swallowed up that day. All who could fled their homes east to Anvilhart, a great fortress city hidden in the depths of a mountain. Deep below the ground and protected by labyrinthine tunnels, lava fungi, and dwarven mechs, they found a safe haven.
In their darkest hour, the elves arrived on the shores of the Elder Coast and joined forces with the dwarven warriors in a war for their very survival. Many fell in battle as the two proud peoples stood side by side in defense of fleeing civilians. Their heroism would not be forgotten; however, their failure to achieve victory would mark these two civilizations forever more.
When the momentum of the war turned into a stalemate and the dust and ash began to settle, the dwarves retreated to Anvilhart to gather their strength, while the elves raised a mighty fortress - Ellesset.
With it came a desperate plan to stop the calamity from creeping out from Crowfell, the now scorched land where Silvervein once stood proudly. A great wall of thorns and vines, infused with elven magic, was lifted to shield the rest of the Elder Coast from further devastation. But this containment came at a terrible price. The noble and wise Elderwoods, ancient allies of elvenkind, offered their living essence and resilient bodies to this cause.
As time passed and the elven warriors of Ellesset proudly stood guard over the passage into Crowfell, some of the corrupting influence from the Red Calamity began to twist this pride. It was used to draw them away from their mission, and they were given a new one… ambition and conquest. This new breed of elf was fueled by the same fires that consumed Silvervein.
The fallen turned on their kin, and brothers and sisters fought each other as if they had been mortal enemies for all time.
Despite the chaos and tragedy, not all beauty was lost. The Gloomwood and the foothills around Anvilhart are booming with life. Majestic beasts, born of stone, wander these lands still, a living reminder of the Elder Coast’s glorious past.
The age of the Red Calamity may have ended Silvervein, but the arrival of adventurers from Ravencrest signals that change is on the horizon. Perhaps these ambitious humans will bring with them a new age and end the terror that has plagued these ancient peoples once and for all…