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The dreaded Orc menace had come upon the peaceful Elven nation seemingly from no where. Green skinned beasts in a sweeping tide of Barbarians and Raiders had butchered their way into the outer village, the minor townships, the small cities. But the King of Elves and his knights waged war right back, a troop count of 40,000 Elves and their superior grace swung out to strike back upon the Orcs blow for blow.
It looked to be a hard fought draw until the Orcs had begun to bolster their numbers with Goblins and other low born greenskins, the battlefields that salted the earth with the blood of Orc and Elf alike in those dreadful skirmishes and clashes were said for form the first deserts and mires to blemish the country of Alsa. Upon the 900 years of conflict Upon conflict however, The King of Elves and Orc Warlord had drawn a uneasy truce, for while they warred and destroyed eachother, neither truly were able to dominate the other nation. They were bleeding eachother into mutual destruction...perhaps they could do best to temper eachother and become Allies.
Asur, the Elven king had taken the initiative in the treaties, delivering one of his princes and a retinue of attendants to the Orcs lands as a Hostage and sign of trust. While the Orcs would watch over his Prince, the Elves would continue to work towards a final peace...but those from the age of war would not be easily ignored if the enemies would find battle to be better.
The Prince stepped out of his carriage onto the crude stone steps of the Orc Temple, were there Queen awaited him. He was thin, an Orc could carry him like a bag of grain without even noticing. He brushed his long blonde hair from his amber eyes, striding up to the doors, his fine elven clothing making him feel like he was getting dirtier just by the moment outside of his pristine kingdom. The Royal gaurds waited by the carriage, their armor glinting in the sun. The Prince touched the doors, starting to push with all his strength to open them.
It looked to be a hard fought draw until the Orcs had begun to bolster their numbers with Goblins and other low born greenskins, the battlefields that salted the earth with the blood of Orc and Elf alike in those dreadful skirmishes and clashes were said for form the first deserts and mires to blemish the country of Alsa. Upon the 900 years of conflict Upon conflict however, The King of Elves and Orc Warlord had drawn a uneasy truce, for while they warred and destroyed eachother, neither truly were able to dominate the other nation. They were bleeding eachother into mutual destruction...perhaps they could do best to temper eachother and become Allies.
Asur, the Elven king had taken the initiative in the treaties, delivering one of his princes and a retinue of attendants to the Orcs lands as a Hostage and sign of trust. While the Orcs would watch over his Prince, the Elves would continue to work towards a final peace...but those from the age of war would not be easily ignored if the enemies would find battle to be better.
The Prince stepped out of his carriage onto the crude stone steps of the Orc Temple, were there Queen awaited him. He was thin, an Orc could carry him like a bag of grain without even noticing. He brushed his long blonde hair from his amber eyes, striding up to the doors, his fine elven clothing making him feel like he was getting dirtier just by the moment outside of his pristine kingdom. The Royal gaurds waited by the carriage, their armor glinting in the sun. The Prince touched the doors, starting to push with all his strength to open them.
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