The Great Northern War

There is little debate as to the causes of the war, as few doubt the ambitions of orcs. The north has long suffered frequent orcish incursions, usually in the form of raids on border towns. Part of the impetus for the initial formation of the Silver Marches, as opposed to a loose confederacy of city-states, was to provide mutual protection against such attacks.

Until the war, the orcs suffered from a lack of organization. Dozens of clans vied for supremacy, turning their axes on each other more so than any denizens of the Marches. However, things came to a dangerous precedent when one clan, Manyarrows, under chief Obould, managed to consolidate power over a horde of over 100,000 orcs. In his Citadel in the foreboding mountains of the north, he declared himself King of the Orcs.

Both for the glory necessary to secure his position, and for the resources without which his horde would quickly collapse into starvation and anarchy, Obould plotted to invade the Silver Marches--not to raid border villages, but to conquer the entire nation.

Obould was clever and circumspect in his preparations. He had his troops assault several giantish fortresses in the mountains--the excuse was to seize their forges and foodstuffs, and this was rather useful, but the primary purpose was to train his horde to siege heavily-fortified installations: key to the sacking of the dwarven fortresses of Felbarr and Adbar.

His initial plan was to conquer the bulk of the Marches, then encircle Silverymoon as long as necessary to starve them out. He knew such a siege could take years, but he also knew the mythal of the city would spell doom for any direct assault. He hoped his soldiers could sate themselves on the fruits of the outlying lands and conquered cities, rather than waste their lives against the impenetrable magic wards.

As luck would have, he was offered a deal by a devil--or, more specifically, a messianic drow known as Halisstra Melarn, whose acolytes entreated him into an unholy alliance. She could provide the magic needed to undermine the Marches, especially Silverymoon, and all she wanted were a few choice morsels...such as the mythal energy and Alustriel Silverhand. In what was likely the beginning of the end for Obould, he accepted the dark deal--though wary, he wasn't half wary enough of the drow priestess.

Obould came down from the mountains like a storm; his troops moved as one, encircling and destroying outlying villages, not letting anyone escape to warn their southern kin. For the first weeks of the invasion, the orcs conquered vast swathes of territory with almost no notice. A few rangers and brave farmers managed to spot them and tell the tale, but they had great difficulty convincing anyone important of the urgent danger the orcs presented.

Eliasis, 1372.

Citadel Felbarr, in the northwest extent of the Marches, was a mighty fortress--a fact Obould knew all too well, as he used to command it himself.

With the element of surprise on his side, and detailed, personal knowledge of the citadel's defenses, he swiftly infiltrated the fortress. His orcs spilled into the upper levels before an alarm could be sounded. Many dwarves--soldiers and civilians alike--were slaughtered in the first hour of the siege. Soon, Emerus Warcrown made the gut-wrenching decision to abandon the upper levels of the fortress, sealing the lower levels against the horde.

But Obould knew exactly what to expect. He had already infiltrated the lower levels before tipping his hand. By the time the horde had gathered at the gates, an army of demons, summoned from within, had slaughtered the defenders on the other side. The gates were opened without a fight, and the orcs spilled into the core of the fortress.

The survivors of Felbarr were forced to abandon the city utterly, retreating into their final redoubt: an ancient tunnel network of Delzoun, which could lead them to distant Adbar. They blew the tunnel entrances, putting a million tons of rock between the Horde and their backs, then made great haste toward Adbar.

Most never made it. The drow were waiting for them in the Underdark. A brave few held off the horrible onslaught while the remainder dared the long-forgotten portals of Delzoun, praying they would still work, and wouldn't scramble them to the ends of the Realms.

The portals worked. The survivors escaped to Adbar, and spread word of the orcish invasion.

Eleint, 1372.

Barely two weeks gone since the siege of Felbarr, the orc horde had swung past Silverymoon, into the Rauvin Vale, toward Sundabar. The surprise move caught the Marches off-guard, who had expected an attack on their de facto capital, and had concentrated their defenses there. They ended up chasing the army, hopelessly behind, as the horde made excellent time up the vale, and slowed their pursuers with cataclysmic storms, conjured by their shamans, which flooded the river.

The orc Horde reached Sundabar and readied their assault--but not before the Company of the Sundered Hand had reached King Helm first. They warned him of the invasion, and he was able to fully ready his city's defenses. Though hopelessly outnumbered, the defenders of Sundabar stood strong. With the promise of a counterassault from Silverymoon, they only had to survive a few nights.

But the drow had yet to play a card, and on the first night of the siege, play it they did. From beneath Helm's castle, waves of demons and drow poured into the underbelly of the defenders. Though Helm and the Sundered Hand put up a valiant defense, the drow infiltrators succeeded in their mission to compromise the walls of the city and invite the orcs in. The assault began in earnest.

Helm had readied his city for a last resort. The civilians had already begun their evacuation, and the soldiers had readied themselves to deploy the Sundabar Gambit.

Beneath the city lies an ancient dwarven ruin, and beneath that, a river of fire, a natural phenomenon producing limitless quantities of Alchemist's Fire. The dwarves had long ago harnessed the liquid fire, hotter as it was even than lava, in their adamantium forges. Helm could tap into their reservoirs, releasing the fire with disastrous results.

When the city had filled with orcs, even as they boasted of their success by desecrating his castle and planting the flag of Manyarrows atop it, Helm personally activated the bombs which would release the flames. The streets became a sigil of fire, a brilliant orange glow reminding the heavens of the wrath of dwarves. Over ten thousand orcs died in the ensuing destruction. Though it cost most of the city, and ultimately didn't prevent the orcs from taking it, it dealt a grievous blow to Obould's horde, and slowed their advance considerably--not to mention it allowed him time to save thousands of civilians.

Marpenoth, 1372.

Helm's people had retreated to Deadsnows, and there he and his remaining army joined them, weeks in advance of the orcs. They would seek asylum in Citadel Adbar, and join in its defense--for it was clearly the horde's ultimate target in this thrust.

At Deadsnows, he and the Sundered Hand parted ways, as they sought to combat a different foe, the great dragon Elamalicros, who even now exploited the war in his attempt to conquer the whole of the High Forest.

When Helm's people arrived in Adbar, they were greeted coldly, and were only barely allowed to reside in the outer city--the dwarven fortress's equivalent of the slums. And yet, they contributed admirably to Adbar's defense, forming the first wave of resistance when the horde ultimately arrived. Their anger for the destruction of their city, and the loss of so many of their brothers, they turned upon the invaders. With the defenses of Adbar fully manned, they staved off the siege for some time.

Eventually, even dwarven walls must fall. Only with the arrival of the Sundered Hand, atop the many desperate requests from Helm and Alustriel, did King Harbromm finally consent to allowing the humans inside. The fortress closed its doors and yielded the upper city to the orcs.

Within the fortress, it seemed there was little interest in fighting off the horde. Harbromm was confident his defenses could hold out indefinitely; Helm argued that wasn't the point, as the orcs would eventually turn their wrath on the rest of the Marches. The King didn't seem to care...indeed, he was expending a bizarre amount of resources exploring new depths of the mines below, uncovered during his clashes with the drow.

With the King gone mad, it seemed only bold action could save the fortress and the alliance. The Sundered Hand plunged into the depths of the city and the caverns below. They found the object of Harbromm's desire--the Heart of the Mountain--and destroyed it, releasing a curse laid upon the dwarves by the drow, and freeing their spirits to pursue vengeance against the invaders.

The Sundered Hand had unlocked the central portal chambers of Delzoun, and, in so doing, had enabled the dwarves to freely traverse the Marches with impunity. They soon outmaneuvered the horde and broke the siege of Adbar. Even as Silverymoon itself was coming under siege, it seemed help would finally be on the way.

In a little-known campaign, the Company of the Sundered Hand sought to undo the work of the Brood of Elamalicros. Already he had declared war upon the druids of the High Forest, and had managed to suppress their power, even that of mighty Turlan.

In the forgotten elven city of Mhilamniir, they encountered Chloracidara, consort of the great dragon. In her slaying, they struck him a great blow, while simultaneously freeing the city and its people from a long, self-imposed temporal exile. There, Kyrin Lothandrien uncovered his family's Moonblade, in which was contained much knowledge that would prove vital in battles to come.

Returning triumphant to Silverymoon, with news of new allies to the south, the Sundered Hand was witness to a terrible betrayal: one of their own, in the grasp of the drow, gave a cursed gift to Alustriel, stealing her body and soul and delivering it to the drow. As the orcish siege was settling in, the Marches had lost its leader.

Immediately, the Sundered Hand were put to the task of setting right that which they had so fouled. Laeral Silverhand volunteered to impersonate her sister, for fear of spreading panic and chaos throughout the fragile alliance, while Elminster and Khelben Arunsun themselves accompanied the party to the Underdark. It seemed only by infiltrating a temple to Lolth deep within the most fortified quarter of the drow capital, could the party stand a chance of even beginning their retrieval of the stolen Alustriel--which would ultimately require a direct assault on the Demonweb Pits themselves.

And so, into the Underdark they journeyed, battling drow and worse denizens of the deep. The drow had not expected such an organized assault, and the party was able to slip past the outer defenses with minimal alarm. They disappeared into the city to plan their assault on Fortress Baenre, in whose compound was the only known portal to Lolth's domain.

The battle to breach the fortress was brutal, and nearly claimed all their lives. However, against all odds, they penetrated the outer walls, and wormed deep into the temple itself, to the all-important portal entrance. Into the portal went Elminster and Khelben, and of course the traitor Japheth, who would be made, one way or the other, to right his wrong.

Incredibly, the entire party survived the assault, save Japheth, who did not return from the pits. Accounts differ on how they escaped--from a grand magic spell to a panicked flight with the hordes of the underdark and the abyss at their backs. In any case, they did assault the city and live, and though the damage to the city was very minor, it startled the drow so much that they receded deeper into their fortresses, withdrawing their support for Halisstra's crusade, and rid themselves of involvement in the surface.

Though Halisstra did not stand alone, she lost much of her forces and many of her own followers; the drow end of the bargain was in danger of collapsing.

Uktar, 1372.

As the orcs settled in to besiege Silverymoon, they had limited supplies; they were expecting the mythal to fall, undermined from within, and to quickly see to the onslaught of the city itself.

Without the support of the drow, and with the renewed Alustriel to defend the city's magic, no such onslaught took place. Instead, the orcs simply surrounded the city, and settled in for a long, cold siege.

As winter dragged on, the Sundered Hand picked and stabbed at key positions within the army, while the city made copious use of mages and portals to defend the outlying villages and cities that the orcs tried to raid to keep up their supplies.

However, the Sundered Hand was soon called into the conflict with Elamalicros once again, as they attempted to make good on their promise to Prince Aramhadras Nordharil of Sharrven to help free his people from the dragon's will.

Their campaign was meant to be brief, but they vanished for an entire year. In that year, the orc shamans performed every more bloody sacrifices, twisting the clouds into a dark, hateful mass. It snowed well into Kythorn, and the first freeze came in Eliasis--there was no summer. Silverymoon and its outlying lands suffered a year with no crops, and its people shivered against the encroaching cold.

However, the long winter gave them time to rebuild their armies, and for their allies to gather themselves and their resources to Silverymoon's aid. The Lord's Alliance fielded several mercenary companies to attack the horde's flank, while their wizards teleported in vast quantities of foodstuffs, medicine, and war materiel, to keep the city alive through the winter.

As the year turned once again, it seemed the horde would never break; they laughed at the "cold" of the southern plains, and showed their resilience in their harsh circumstance by losing only a minor fraction of their army to attrition. Despite the loss of many commanders, they kept up their organization. Their shamans had steadily drained the mythal's power, and it seemed their scouts were having more and more luck probing its outer defenses with impunity. With spring, they would assault the city, and let the mythal be damned.

As the winter broke, however, so too did the spine of the orcs...for, unbeknownst to all, a coup had erupted within Citadel Manyarrows itself. Obould had been slain by a little-known half-orc son, Thrax Manyarrows, who assumed his mantle and throne. He declared an end to the siege, and, expecting no compliance, readied himself and the honor guard of Manyarrows to assault the orcish positions in the south.

Even as he did so, the Company of the Sundered Hand emerged, triumphant, from Sharrven. Elamalicros, they claimed, had been defeated, and Sharrven and the liberated forces of the High Forest would aid the Silver Marches.

Tarsakh, 1374.

The trees themselves surged northward--the anger of Turlan resounded across the valleys and mountains of the north. The forest fell upon the horde like a tsunami; as the green waves engulfed the black armies, no sign of the orcs was ever seen again. Tens of thousands died in the first day, as the forest took them, and the elves mopped them up within it. By the end of the counterassault, Silverymoon had become a forest city, surrounded by an army of treants and sylvan creatures, far from the natural eaves of the High Forest.

The horde broke that day, never to recover. Though many battles were to be fought, the horde would never again siege a major city of the Marches. What orcs were not slain, or did not flee into the wilds, were assimilated by force into Thrax's army, which soon retreated to the north when the alliance turned their eye toward them.

In the wake of the war, vast swathes of the Marches had been shattered. Countless villages and farms had been abandoned and ravaged by the orcs. Felbarr and Sundabar were ruins. Adbar had suffered considerable losses.

However, Silverymoon was strong. There was no longer any doubt where the true center of the Marches lied. The strength of the city and its defenders was the key to winning the war; the failure of the dwarves had already been proven. Only with a strong Silverymoon was the region able to recover after the war.

Adbar's only concession was to acknowlege the Lady Hope as the ultimate victor of the battle, and to immortalize her deeds in Adbar's song and legend. He stubbornly refused any major aid in restoring his city; instead, he dipped deep into his personal wealth to both renew his own city and that of Citadel Felbarr--deeply indebting King Warcrown to him. He even donated profusely to Sundabar, and offered a thousand pardons for his failure to defend the ancient and noble city.

Silverymoon vowed to repay the generosity of their allies to the west. They were still a wealthy city, and had much gold to offer those who would come to rebuild their towns and walls. Many of the mercenaries and merchants who had aided them stayed in the land after the war, swelling their diminished population. Their gratitude made citizens of transients, further cementing their power in the region.

Meanwhile, the dwarves had uncovered Delzoun--an accidental but momentous discovery that had been sought for generations. The portal network itself had been claimed in the name of Vergadain by Driev Hurndor of the Company of the Sundered Hand. He leased their use to the might dwarven kingdoms for a fair fee, and became immensely rich in the process.

In the elation following the victory of the Silverein, the war heroes among the Company of the Sundered Hand were given positions of honor within the Marches. Kyrin Lothandrien was bestowed a high lordhood and a position in Alustriel's privy council. Shade refused such pleasantries and requested only a permanent homeland for her people. Prince Aram returned to Sharrven to serve his people as King.

Though the war exacted a terrible cost, it served to solidify the infant nation and earned them a place of glory within the realms. The Silver Marches is now acknowledged by all as a great power.