The Kingdom of Marolia

Once known as the Shrouded Realm, the Land between Lands and the Mystic Isle, Marolia has a history both long as mired with the arrogance of those who do not fear the passage of time. Though certainly not immortal, those high within the circles of aristocracy and magocracy have little to worry from old age, their craft pushing it off for centuries if not millennia longer than it should have.

Marolia was formed extremely early in recorded history, so early in fact that during its isolation it even formed its own calendar making lining up its exact formation extremely difficult. Suffice to say it was the original celestials turned mortals and their human compatriots who sailed south until they found the rich and luscious lands of Marolia, a heart of the worlds leylines and awash with mineral resources, being one of the greatest aetheric deposits in the world.

The humans and aasimar gave way to their original elven descendants and these first High Elves in turn forsook the arts of divine magic, becoming the first pioneers into the arcane. They crafted a barrier of magical fog to cover and protect their lands from any who would approach and for millennia hide away from the world, building their island paradise and perfecting their magical arts.

When the veil of fog was first lifted by King Corleess Vorlaris, the grandfather of the current reigning king, it was to send traders and explorers out into the world, for whilst Marolia was indeed a paradise where its people had little want for comfort, they were starting to tire of it. The elves ventured forth, bringing riches to and from their island home but keeping their arcane secrets close to hand. They neither trusted or entirely understood these shorter lived creatures that they found on the continents.

Centuries passed, all was well until in their long lives the elves began to grow bored of not just simple trade but with what limits of magic they had already obtained. The elves grew greedier, more ambitious, they witnessed their people changing more and more with each passing decades, the different subraces of their kind spreading out across the world and the magisters minds grew dark with thoughts of what they could achieve.

The fleets of swanships, carrying legions of shining armoured elves, enchanted and protected against near anything the so called lesser races could muster swept any resistance aside in a matter of months. The continental natives had no protection or even understanding of arcane magic and many could not understand why the Divines were not stripping away the powers of these clearly corrupted priests. It was only after their conquest that they came to realise how little they knew about their new masters.

On the eastern continent they began to form a mirror of their idyllic island home, forming a workshop to which their arts of benevolent magic and enchantment could be tested. On the west, they created a blasted hellscape, aberration and evocation used in equal measure tore out chunks of the land as the magisters taught their apprentices or devised new spellcraft.

To manage their growing empire, the office of the Questor Arcanis was formed, acting as the official voices of the King on Marolia. One to each continent to ensure neither was more powerful than the other, both carefully maintained and observed. Ultimately this was a lynchpin that would start the decline of the cruelty of the realm. For with the sudden death of the Questor Arcanis of the West, the country of Sland was violently born seemingly over night, and the long descendants of those they had tormented for generations rose up in rebellion so swift and vicious not even their shining legions could react in time.

Now, millennia later, Marolia teeters once more on the edge of collapse, with the Utvemerian uprising and continued endorsment of outlaws and rebels, and the Duchy of Soreusia, once uneasy allies, officially severing all ties with their former homeland. Many elves fear that this wave of unrest could see their great works cast back into the sea from which they sailed from long ago, and with the secrets of skyships now not just being the craft of the most privileged arcanists, perhaps even the ancient fog will not be enough to hide them from retribution.