The Great Cataclysm and Beyond:
A Cross-Cultural Compendium
The Cataclysm: What Every Culture Remembers
Long ago, something nearly destroyed the world of Olmith. But ask a dwarf what happened, and you’ll hear a very different story than if you ask an elf. Each culture remembers that day through its own eyes, shaped by its beliefs, its landscape, and its gods.
Six Names for Catastrophe
Imagine trying to describe the worst day in history. Now imagine doing it centuries later, when the only records are songs, scrolls, and stories passed down through generations. Is it any wonder that the people of Olmith can’t agree on what to call it—or even what really happened?
Here’s what each culture calls the day the world nearly ended:
The Drungar: Olmrun Brokgar (OLM-roon BROKE-gar)
To the dwarves, it means: “The world breaking time”
“The eternal stone fractured. We remember so it never happens again.” — Drungar saying.
The Elan’vul: Val’ithrun (val-ITH-roon)
To the elves, it means: “The Great Fading.”
“We do not sing the sad song.” — Elan’vul expression.
The Morakon: Gazar Tukhiŋ (GAH-tar TOO-khing)
To the nomadic tribes it means: “When the Land Died”
“The earth will betray you. Only the horse is loyal.” — Morakon proverb.
The Humans of Alameth: The Great Breaking
What it means: exactly what it sounds like
“We record what was lost so we can rebuild what matters.” — Alamethan historian’s creed.
The Sea Lords: Ngurra Kaimoana Wehea (NGOO-rah kigh-moh-AH-nah weh-HEH-ah)
To the ocean farers, it means: "When the Land Divided the Waters"
“The stars remember. We remember. The waters will be whole again.” — Sea Lords’ navigator oath.
The Imperium: The First Cleansing
To Ildune’s followers, it means: The beginning of their god’s work (not the end).
Here’s where things get disturbing.
“The First Cleansing proved his power. The Great Veiling proves his wisdom. His return will prove his supremacy.” — Imperium catechism.
So, what really happened?
That’s the question everyone wants answered, and the one question only I can answer with certainty. I truly hope you discover what the answers are in the tales of Olmith.
After the Cataclysm: The Gift and Its Division
When the world-breaking ceased, the survivors faced a terrible truth: they were too weak to rebuild alone. The catastrophe had shattered more than mountains and seas. It had decimated most of the races. Even more so, among the Drungar and Elan’vul, innate abilities weakened as the world-binding itself grew frail, threatening the essence of who they were. And it seemed to some even the deities they worshipped grew distant.
The battles and destruction continued to take their toll. Entire cultures vanished from the world. Others, desperate to survive, came together in unexpected unions. The Confederation of Alameth, for one. Another, the Plains Tribes, merged with other groups of horse-peoples to become the Morakon. And as those who navigated the great grasslands had done those who traveled the great waterways formed fleets, to rule their domain. Though the conflict between the races did not match that of the damage caused by the world-breaking, it did not serve in its healing.
Olmith wasn’t ready to die.
The Gift of Unity
A being of radiant light came as a messenger, bearing a gift taken from Olmith’s own binding.
To the great chieftain of the tribal plains, this luminous entity delivered a glowing strand of pure power, drawn from the very essence of the world-binding. A single gift. This chieftain was the wisest of them and discerned that survival demanded cooperation, not domination. So he did something extraordinary.
He divided the strand into three. One third remained with the plains peoples.
One third went to the Drungar, who protected it as they do all precious things, with stone, silence, and eternal vigilance.
One third went to the Elan’vul Queen, amplifying her already potent command of first magics.
Each strand was meant to represent the strength found in the solidarity of the races. All were meant to protect their portion while respecting the others. And for a time, it worked. Each strand obeys its original purpose. To bind in unity of strength. Misuse of these gifts did not go unnoticed.
When Pride Cursed the World Again
The Elan’vul by their very nature are prideful, and their Queen exemplified this trait.
Affronted by receiving merely a third of the entire gift. Her pride whispered. With the strand’s full power, she could do more than rebuild the world of her race. She would remake the world, perfecting what she found imperfect in creation. Morneth’val had refused to answer her call in the beginning time. She would make him regret it.
She tried.
The gift responded to her will. Her will was corrupt. The gift resisted.
From her hubris came the Shadow-Bred, creatures of living nightmare, born from corrupted power and twisted ambition. They hunt the races of Olmith to this day, an eternal reminder that some gifts, when abused, become curses. The Queen’s gift turned against her, ending her reign. Her sin ensured the world’s wars would not end so soon.
When the gods fall silent, do the shadows call?
The nature of the Elan’vul is well known, but some scholars wonder if the Elan'vul Queen acted purely from her own pride, or if another voice fed it.
The Empress of Ildune has always understood that direct conquest brings unity among enemies. Far better to sow discord from within. Her agents move through human courts, her whispers find the ears of the ambitious, and her magic works its slow corruption in places of power. If she indeed poisoned the Mad Queen’s thoughts, it would fit her pattern perfectly: let others wield the gifts, let them fail, let them destroy each other.
When the battlefield is empty of these divine relics, and hope, peace, and faith are lost, the Imperium will claim what remains. The Second Cleansing awaits only the removal of inconvenient power from inconvenient hands.
And what happened after this?
There are so many question to be asked. Again I hope you find the answer in tales of Olmith.