World Of Midgard Lore Part 3
The Humans of Midgard, meanwhile, had for centuries been divided both geographically and ideologically.
The settlers of the shore remained entrenched by the waters, and the mystic sorcerers sought solitude and dominion in the desert sands.
In these vast sands were the dunes-people, who dressed to vanish into the desert, and of the mystic airs of this desolate plane they learned the art of sorcery.
These dunes magicians would go years without speaking, and this inscrutable silence terrified poor pilgrims as they trekked cross the barren expanse.
The elements of fire and wind bent to the will of these hermits, and as a result, the desert sands were rarely contested by clans from without.
This isolation, indeed, was all the dunes-wizards wanted.
3: The Shore
Last among these warring clans were the families of the shore. Expert with net and spear, these sea-hunters would stalk the seaside cusp of the realm.
With an unlimited supply of food from the ocean, theirs was the most coveted of the lands in the realm.
And they understood this only too well, drilling for hours on end to form a sort of impenetrable phalanx.
Foolhardy bandits would siege this phalanx for days on end, but the shore-wanders were patient and disciplined.
Every day, they would strike down a handful of intruders, day upon day until the siege broke and retreat was sounded.
This omnipresent threat created wise and hearty strategists, and from the shore-clan would rise a great leader.
But that leader would take many centuries to emerge. Understand, good adventurers, this time was an unrelenting crucible of battle that continued for generations.
Like a beast that survives by devouring itself, the constant bloodletting drew still more bloodletting.
The cave-dwelling Orcs would sweep into the fields below or trek miles into the Dwarven mountains, but within weeks their enemies had regrouped and massacred the occupying contingents.
The BloodDrakes sent brigades up to… (to be continued)
