Malik the Outlander

Eight hundred years ago, the Adari Dominion ruled half the continent. They conquered everything in their path, crushing smaller sovereignties to fuel their ever expanding territories. They took slaves by the thousands, putting the conquered people of the provinces to work, in mines, forests, and forges alike. Discipline was beaten into each and every slave, and strength of will thoroughly beaten out. In time, the Adari could have controlled all of Andura, so brutal was the efficiency of their rule. In some seldom few slaves, the fire of rebellion remained, but they could do nothing but die on the blades of their overseers.

It was in a silver mine beneath the city of Kheran'vher that one such slave had outlived his fear of death. Some say he was a captured prince of another land, cast down from royalty to utter squalor. Others suggest the man was a humble soldier, captured and enslaved during one of the Dominion's many wars against their neighbours. Others still say that he was just a man, as flawed and common as they come. Whatever the truth, slaves from the silver mines of Kheran'vher quickly began to whisper of the solemn, quiet foreigner they dubbed "the Outlander". He spoke only sparingly, helping slaves who had been injured and ensuring they were not put down by their masters. He was broad of shoulder and clever of eye, but kept at his work as though he wished for nothing but toil. The assistance he offered others was repaid in their loyalty, from the captured soldier Danton Dyre, to the injured dwarf that became known as Dragor Ironhand. It had been common knowledge among the slaves that the man wished to escape his bondage, but their efforts were for naught. Should they have escaped the mines, they were still trapped beneath Kheran'vher itself, and the city's hinterlands were always roamed by slave-hunters seeking to prove their mettle. Against such might, three men stood little chance.

Yet one day, everything changed. The Arahna'dar peninsula erupted in fire, blinding light searing the skies for hundreds of miles around. The earth shook, tremors felt as far away as Kheran’vher, hundreds of miles east. It is said that the Outlander felt those tremors, deep in the mines as he was, and decided in that instant that the time for action had come. He drove his axe through the skull of a guardsman, and struck off the chains of Danton Dyre. He and his followers rose up, taking control of the mines in which they worked. They seized weapons and armour from their former guards, and stormed the city above. Reeling from the loss of their leadership, the Adari governors were swiftly overcome. The Outlander's forces took control of the city, striking the chains from every slave in Kheran'ver.

It was victory, for a time. The Dominion had been decapitated, and the provinces had finally outgrown their fear of the slavemasters' whip. Across the north, other cities threw off their chains, and slaughtered the overseers that held them. With the entire Arahna'dar peninsula seemingly obliterated, freedom seemed assured.

But the Outlander was wary. He knew a reprisal would soon come, and that the element of surprise had already been lost. The city they had taken ran on slaves, and could not run without an expendable workforce to maintain it. Returning the freed slaves to work was out of the question, so a decision was made. Kheran'vher was to be abandoned, the Adari captives set loose, with the free people of the north departing it entirely, striking out in search of new lands.

The army that left Kheran'vher that fateful day was nearly thirty thousand strong. Women, children, cripples and the elderly, mostly. But leading them were the Outlander's soldiers, men and women tempered beneath the whip of the Adari. They had been broken, each and every one, but Malik had reforged them, stronger than ever before. Their hearts burned with a fervour to follow their new leader wherever he went.

Which was, as it turned out, southward. The Outlander was no simple traveller, striking blindly into the desert in search of absolution. He had studied, poring over maps hundreds of years old, desperately searching for the path that would lead his people south. Guided by cartographers and survivalists freed from the mines, he plotted a course, a route never before trodden by any on the continent. While the north raged in fire and fury, the Outlander and his thirty thousand fled, disappearing into the desert.

Their path, though markedly safer than much of the scourge, was still a treacherous one. Though the Outlander's maps had provided him with the locations of wells, ruined towns long since abandoned, and mesas in which his people could shelter from the jagged sands, many still lost their lives in his Exodus. Some fell to quicksand, others to great beasts lurking beneath the red dunes of the desert. When the Outlander came across an entire city, long since abandoned to the desert, he was unable to prevent thousands of his followers from staying there, sure that they had reached the safety they sought. The column pressed on without them, surging farther south. Those who remained were never seen again. The Outlander left markings to guide any who sought to follow, but no travellers ever arrived from that cursed city.

Every day became a struggle. With no end in sight to the desert, morale began to flag. The oases the column reached would be found dry, and supplies dwindled. The Outlander and his companions pressed on, a thousand tested soldiers pushing the caravan onwards.

More died, to the heat, the sandstorms, and to the beasts of the scourge. Hope seemed lost, when one glorious day, after months in the desert, the elven scouts of Clan Greenwood returned with news. The sands had bled into the rolling plains that would one day become be known as Shanna'dar, and the end of the desert was at last within sight. The caravan halted on the shores of a vast lake, and the men, women and children rejoiced alongside one another in the icy pure water, revelling in their absolution. Safe harbour had finally been found.

But the Outlander was dissatisfied. Not content with remaining at the first land he found, he struck east with his closest companions, leaving the caravan to recuperate from their journey. The six of them, dubbed "The Outlanders" themselves, had grown closer over the course of the exodus, defending each other and their followers from whatever evils dared to face them.

Eventually, they found the forests of Ultain. Building a raft themselves, Malik and his five companions sailed upriver, searching for its source. Here the stories can only speculate, but when they returned to the caravan, The Outlanders were joined by dozens of wood elves, representatives of the clans that had made Blackmoon Forest their home. It was before both peoples that their first accord was struck, with the Outlander shaking the hands of every one of the elven Chieftains, and the exodus began anew.

The column was guided by the elven clans into the depths of the forest, journeying for days. Malik the Outlander and his companions were feasted at every elven sanctuary they passed, praising the beauty of the chieftain's daughters and the wonders that their lands possessed. They were shielded from the forest's dangers by the clans that travelled with them, and it is said that none amongst the caravan's numbers perished during those days. When they emerged onto the plain beyond the wood, to behold the might of the Araven Mountains and the Lake upon which they would settle, it is said to have been the only time someone witnessed Malik the Outlander weep.

The first stones were set, cast by magic from the very boulders of the mountain, and the city of Dal Evar was founded. Danton Dyre proclaimed their sovereignty as Malik stood beside him, a strange new blade adorning his hip:

This will become a place for all to find sanctuary, where no man or woman need fear being owned by another. This will be our Kingdom Eternal, and should the slave-masters come, they will find our warriors stalwart, our people united against them. For we are one beneath the banner of our King!

And they unveiled the banner of the Outlander before the assembled masses, the symbol of the rose that the man had always held so mysteriously dear.

He took the hand of Malik the Outlander, who is said to have raised his own with the greatest of reluctance. Tila Fiannon placed a crown of iron upon Malik's forehead, covering the distinctive headband that the man had always worn. Malik the Outlander knelt before his people as a man, but when he stood again he was unmistakably a King. When he unsheathed the spell-wrought blade that his companions had forged, its length glimmering with all the colours of the rainbow, and held it high before his people, there was not a single one of them that did not cheer. The ground shook beneath the stamping of their feet, and Ultain became a Kingdom in truth.

And so the city grew, for ten long years, and Dal Evar grew from its humble foundations into a city of quarried stone. Its people fished the lake, settled the plain, and journeyed into the mountain pass to the north. It was here that they first came into contact with the nascent Kantazar Kingdom, ruled by Soren Locke, the High Sorcerer of Kantazar Keep. While relations between the two kingdoms began cordially, the High Sorcerer was always said to have desired lordship over the Outlander's kingdom.

Tensions between the two powers came to a head when a merchant caravan from Ultain entered the city of Dalasira and never again emerged. King Malik demanded their safe return, and the High Sorcerer denied their ever entering his nation. The two rulers met to discuss a treaty, and Soren Locke's true nature was revealed at last. Breaking every law and custom of safe passage for envoys, he attempted to murder King Malik at their meeting, summoning fell beasts from the ground that laid waste to the town in which the meeting had taken place. It was only through his own strength and that of his companions that the ageing King managed to escape, and he swiftly returned to gather his soldiers for battle.

Messengers were sent across the mountains to the Khannaean Empire, still finding its footing amidst the demise of the Old Imperium, and the second Empress of the Raven joined the fight. Battles were fought in the pass itself and eventually in Ninepeak Vale, the seat of Soren Locke's power, and the war began in earnest.

For three years, Ultain and Khannaea fought the shadow-spawn that Soren Locke and his necromancers summoned, pushing them back inch by inch into the mountains. In battles innumerable, the Outlanders themselves led the charge against the High Sorcerer's beasts and demons, and hundreds of the shadowspawn fell before their number.

It was in the twilight of the war's third year that victory seemed close at hand. Soren Locke had been driven from the field, and his forces had retreated to fortify the city of Dalasira and his stronghold at Kantazar Keep. To end the war for good and all, the Outlander split his forces, sending the greater part of his soldiers to take Dalasira, while he and Danton Dyre led the siege of Kantazar Keep with Anharak the Unseen at their side. The battle was to be their greatest victory, to solidify their control over the Khalyn pass and to successfully maintain their strength as a nation.

In this way, it is true that the Battle of Dalasira was a great victory, as the combined assault by the Khannaeans and the Shadowguard stormed the walls of the city at once. The last of the High Sorcerer's necromancers were slain here, and the demons they summoned from the Abyss cast back into their hellish plane.

The fate of Malik the Outlander and his closest companion was of a rather different sort. Here the histories can only speculate once again, as none who survived the Battle of Kantazar Keep spoke of their experience afterwards. What is known is that the High Sorcerer did not go quietly. Even today, men whisper of the foul sorceries that were summoned during the siege, so terrible in their wroth that life itself was forever drained from the landscape surrounding the fortress. Danton Dyre perished during the siege, fighting atop the walls against the High Sorcerer while the Outlander commanded from the field. When his banner fell, it is said to have been the only time Malik the Outlander was seen to cry out.

In a vengeful fury, the First King of Ultain led the final assault himself, storming the walls to avenge his fallen comrade. It is said he confronted the High Sorcerer himself at the centre of the Keep, but such reports are but idle speculation. None know what truly occurred during the Outlander's final hours, but for the fact that both armies perished in the siege, leaving Kantazar a desolate, smoking ruin. Only Anharak the Unseen emerged from the battle unscathed, leading a portion of the rear guard to safety. Not one of them spoke of what had occurred, confirming only the deaths of King Malik and Prince Danton. The war was won, but Ultain and its people mourned.

So did Malik the Outlander fall, in the battle that was to have been his finest hour. He left behind no heir, save for the man that had perished at his side. Danton Dyre was survived by his wife and singular son, named Malik for his father's most beloved friend. The Kingdom blossomed under the pair's leadership, and Malik the Outlander would forever be immortalized in Ultain's history.