History of Gyi’spire
Text Box: The world of Humans The world of Scaven The world of Elves The world of Orcs The world of Orcs Orcs a mutant amalgamations from various creatures. A byproduct of the disaster of Aminos. Created to serve the humans. But too bloodthirsty to remain chained. Their creator was the alchemist, Jysp. They became his legacy. Creator of monsters, he fused animals together to create ‘better’ creatures. A few years prior to he was captured by Aminos Thoan soldiers. The King hoped he could create something that would turn the tide of the war in his favour. Early creatures where deemed failures, none had the capacity of understanding or obedience. He needed just enough intelligence in the creature so it would understand, but not too much so it would be easily controlled. For the next two years prisoners of Thoa slowly disappeared. A week prior to Aminos, the battle had moved deep into Thoan, but a secret lie in wait for them. Enemy Panassan guards encountered beastly men, 2 meters high, with pale green skin and arms like tree trunks. They where fearless, strong, and bloodthirsty. Panassan’s quickly learnt to fear the their war cry— “Ooork!”. The monstrous creatures where now known by their enemies and allies as the Orcs. Aminos. Obliteration. The end. All sides where in ruins and disarray. Though weak minded, the Orcs instinctively knew of survival and fled. They found refuge in the Pits of Myrallia. Since the Orcs where a creation of alchemy it was thought that they would eventually die out. And they would have, if it wasn’t for one man, their creator, their father. He would sacrifice everything to keep his legacy alive, everything. As far as the human world knew Orcs had fled and died in the Pits of Myrallia. However they where very much alive, and where mysteriously able to create more. However, the futility of their nature through vicious cannabalisim and constant state of battle-lust, their numbers stayed low. Any few that ventured out where swiftly dispatched by the Kamil. But now, 525 PA, the Orc numbers grow, under a new banner, the banner of ‘the bloody fist’. A great shadow emerges from the Orcs stone throne room above the main hall, his shape is twice the size of any Orc. He looks towards the city of Thoa, then to the restless rabble of Orc training with swords and crude armor. “Looks like you are ready to go home.” His voice a deep guttural grumble. <- The World of Elves <- Home

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