Sora Verus


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Printed as written by Ben Aristad, former Hallowlord

Year 167, 5A

Her Majesty’s Royal Press, Varrock, Crown Land


Shrouded in the distant, concealing mist of time, in those ancient years from which no record remains, an all-powerful empire prosecuted dominion over the men of Gielinor. From their high thrones in awe-inspiring citadels of marble, God-kings surveyed the populace beneath them, and the ever-reaching distant horizon, and felt contention. Surely, they must have thought, such magnificent bastions of civilization as the cyclopean cities of Senntisten and Saranthium would weather the unyielding assault of time, commanding the respect of all passers-by and shining as beacons of order and civility, envied by mortals the world over. As the commoner’s idiom goes, however, all that is good must one day come to an end. These populous and leagues-spanning metropolises withered in power and opulence throughout the length of the Second Age, and as man was cast low by the emergence of competing races, so were they. By the time of the beginning of the Third Age and the war between the Gods, their towering walls and monuments were but crumbling phantoms of a past that once was, dashed into rubble and glowing cinder by the crushing might of the gods and their weapons. Their populations slaughtered, their works undone, the last vestiges of these powerful city-states faded into ignominy. Past their destruction, very little is known as to what happened to the denizens of these ancient mega-cities, as no record was preserved. Archaeological digs east of modern-day Varrock and, rarely, within the hostile expanse of the Southern wilderness reveal that perhaps these cities stretched beyond even our current bounds.
The war between the gods is thought to have raged from its beginning at the onset of the Third Age to the beginning of the Fourth, four millennia later. While few details exist of what life was like during this shadowy period, one look at the blasted ruins of what once was leads one often to the assumption that they were a time of great strife and calamity. Emerging from the ruins of this gargantuan conflict, in absence of the once continent-spanning order, many races took root and carved what meager existence they could within the remains. Dwarves, Goblins, Humans and Elves vied for power and arable land among the ruins. Early Fourth age artifacts recovered from within the earth reveal that this period was one of famine and near-perpetual warfare among the races, of principal interest being the humans, as several intra-racial factions began to emerge, a pattern seen in few other races during this period. First, humans lived primarily a nomadic, hunter-gatherer existence, wandering the hills and forests of Fourth-age Misthalin and eking out a desperate life. In time, these tribes people advanced technologically and culturally, with some inhabiting the ruins of the ancient cities and, in time, building them anew. In the year 700 of the Fourth age, Avarrocka was founded from the more agriculturally inclined of these tribes, led at first by a council of elder tribesmen. It is from this grasping civilization that the ancestral hero Arrav, defender of Varrock, was spawned.
Legend holds that the young boy who would come to be known as Arrav single-handedly defeated a horde of countless goblins who, in their envy, had deigned to lay siege to the burgeoning city-state. The people of Avarrocka, in their doting affection for this young hero, anointed him the first king of what they hoped to craft into a long-lived and glorious kingdom. Their hopes were in vain, however, as in the year 716 of the Fourth Age, the combined efforts of a powerful Necromancer, Zemouregal, and the fledgeling Vampyre Covendom of Meiyerditch laid siege to the city. In a valiant battle, Arrav and his warrior caste defeated the invaders, but at a grim cost. Slain in the fighting, Arrav was no more. While revering him as their champion, the people of Avarrocka never deigned to appoint another Monarch, the title being claimed forcefully by a series of brutal and draconian dictators, some mad, others lustful for power and fame. Slowly, as promising as it was at it’s inception, the dominion of Avarrocka faded once more into the night of insignificance.
So continued the state of our ancestor’s affairs until, in the year 1710 of the Fourth Age, yet another hero emerged from the common ranks, the child of indeterminate parents from Avarrocka’s lowly slum regions, one Wormas Varras. In his younger years, Wormas lived a life not unlike many of the other slum children. He would play in the streets, and perform odd jobs for coin. His childhood friends referred to him affectionately as “Worm”, and period accounts state that he had ambitions of becoming a famous and righteous adventurer. As he grew older, he found partial completion of his life’s dream, joining one of the many mercenary bands in operation at the time and fighting against yet another foreign siege, this time executed by the descendent Vyres of the Drakan Covendom. Worm rose to great fame in the battle, being one of the last known humans to slay a Vampyre by his own hand, ending said Vampyre’s influence over his summoned horde of undead, and saving the city as a result. Upon returning from battle, Worm and his company of one hundred survivors were greeted with a hero’s welcome by Avarrocka’s citizenry. Despite this celebration, the corrupt and greedy tyrant-regent of the city, whose name has been lost to history, refused payment to the company, instead offering them places within his personal guard and the promise of future remuneration. Disgusted, he declined the offer, and his band took to the forests South of Varrock, intent on vengeance and unseating the unjust monarch.
In time, Worm proved himself a capable general and leader of men, gathering thousands of peasantry to his cause and teaching the levy soldiers manuals of arms and group tactics. Interestingly, this is often cited as the official beginning of the Royal Varrockian Army, leading to the Army itself being one year older than the Kingdom. During his travels, he met with one of the few surviving members of the Imcando, and from him learned the secrets to harvesting and refining the fabled metal known today as Runite. Outfitting his elite soldiers with arms and armor crafted from this powerful resource, he soon grew confident in his destiny. In short order he had gathered this proper army, and returned to the walls of the city at it’s head. An unnamed collaborator within the city’s walls flung open their gates to him, and the well-armed and trained force entered the city, capturing or killing nearly all of the tyrant-regent’s mercenary forces. In what would be known as the Battle of Avarrocka, Worm and his forces surrounded and captured the former monarch, placed his fate in the hands of the people he had once so gravely oppressed, and as a result put him to death.
Once again rallied behind a powerful and inspiring figure, the people of Avarrocka showered Worm with praise, and appointed him the first king of Varrock, renamed in honor of his once lowly house. On Erysailday, 28th of the Ire of Phyrris, Year 1713 of the Fourth Age,the Kingdom of Varrock in it’s current form was founded. Worm’s reign was one of fairness and reconstruction, undoing the damage that over a thousand years of conflict and strife had caused. He decreed that, unlike a traditional Monarchy, the future regents of his Kingdom would appoint their successors based on merit and ability, rather than simply bloodline. In this way, Varrockia has since been able to avoid largely the problems caused by royal inbreeding and wars of succession, a nearly unbroken line of Monarchs from Worm, to the present day Sora and Darius has been maintained. While the once prestigious and gilded house Varras has since faded into obscurity, they have been replaced by such revered names as Ravendwel and Verus. One must wonder if, in the bloodstained hall of the former tyrant-king, Worm knew that in just under five hundred years, his children, and their children’s children, would craft an empire unlike any the world had ever seen. An empire with vast swathes of farmland stretching as far as the eye can see, magnificent feats of manufacturing and research, and a nigh-unstoppable legion of professional warriors, hell-bent on preserving the dream of their ancestors for aeons to come.





Edited by Sora Verus

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