Feudal Era
The Feudal Era is a period of history some eight thousand years long that begins with the awakening of the Orcish civilization, the emergence of the Dwarves and the Humans, the discovery of the Gnomes and Woodland Elves, the birth of the Halflings, as well as the numerous conflicts between these races. This era is fraught with minor conflicts and is generally marked with periods of brief stability followed by political, military, and geographical upheavals that throw the balance of the entire realm into chaos. Considered in retrospect by one learned in the history of the Dominion, there is a stark contrast between the fragmented, war-ridden governance of IldRenn and the almost-idyllic stability brought about by the monolithic Dominion.
Despite the optimistic words that begin early accounts of the Feudal Era in early Eridal literature, the Feudal Era culminates in a way much more befitting of the general atmosphere that pervades much of its length. A continental war that precedes the arrival of the Dominion in Western soil is the act that closes the Feudal Era and opens the doors to the first period of history that is shared between Sekhar's East and West.
The Mist-time
Mist is the great obscurer of things in Thanardal tradition. However, it does not function as a malevolent force in the world, acting only to shield the mysteries of the ancestral spirits from the prying eyes of mortals, and serving as a veil between the two worlds. For this reason, the time that precedes the Feudal Era is called ImaDagtham by IstThanarel, and although the term is loaded with religious and mystical symbolism, it entered the vernacular at some point in the middle of the Feudal Era. During one of the few periods of peace during the Feudal Era, Viardal priests and scholars attempted to purge Human and Dwarven records of the term, believing it to be blasphemous against the one true god Viari, although these attempts failed as the term had already been in use for many centuries beforehand.
What few records remain of these 'before-times' are more often than not fragmentary mentions that even modern scholarship cannot say pertain to ImaDagtham for certain. These records are compiled in ImaVornar, the collective body of oral traditions from all the races of Man compiled by IstErisdal ascetics. Though there exist a small number that proceed in description for many lines, and a few pages in one case, these descriptions are often nebulous and given through the language of poetry that further obscures the truth behind their meaning. One commonality between most of these accounts is talk of a long night, or a very cold period of time during which the forests gave up very little in the way of food, and the land was covered in ice, even far to the north, where winter rarely shows its face.
One important aspect missing from the remaining accounts of ImaDagtham is a telling of the creation of the Races of Man. Though often overlooked in modern scholarship, which favours discussions on the merits of the Thanardal myth as opposed to the Viardal version of events, the uncertainty surrounding the birth of the Races of Man provided a convenient hole for the more xenophobic of leaders to fill, and an unorthodox but nevertheless popular theory is that many of the early conflicts between and within the Races of Man were exacerbated by the fact that many tribal leaders labeled their tribes as the 'chosen' people of whatever deities they worshiped.
The Dawn of the Orcs
When, exactly, the Orcish civilization began is a mystery even to their noble race, and the modern day has offered little help in shedding light on this mysterious past. For much of their early recorded history, the Orcish people were confined to the somewhat arid ranges to the south of the mountain range known as Winter's Wall. Due to the environment around them, and without the concept of agriculture to aid them, the Orcs were a nomadic people. This changes as soon as IstThanarel enter the scene, but it is not for a few hundred years after the start of Orcish recorded history that they do.
Modern scholarship suggests that prior to the beginning of Orcish history, ancestral Orcs were a group of nomadic people living to the north of Winter's Wall, but less-than-pleasant environmental conditions drove the Orcs to search for better foraging and hunting. These theories suggest that there were two groups of ancestral Orcs: thinner-skinned individuals and thicker-skinned individuals. Scholars insist that ancestral Orcish tribes had both these kinds of individuals, although, they also suggest that it is not beyond reason that these two groups eventually segregated. According to the model, these two groups went in different directions, the thicker-skinned ancestral Orcs heading south past Winter's Wall, because they were better suited for colder climates, while the thinner-skinned ancestral Orcs headed to the plains of the north which promised to be better hunting grounds and were known to be warmer year-round.
To follow the story of modern Orcs, we will focus first on the group that allegedly headed south. Although it is impossible to ascertain the veracity of the claim that there were two groups of Orcs, Archaeological excavations of Winter's Wall have revealed evidence of an early crossing of the mountain range, possibly during a period of more clement climate, compared to the current climate of the area. Flint arrowheads and animal bones discovered from what are believed to be ancient camping grounds indicate that a sizable group of Orcs, possibly a few tribes large, did find a fertile area upon the slopes of Winter's Wall. Though there is little evidence outside of oral tradition to support the claim, scholars willingly conjecture that the now-largely barren area to the south of Winter's Wall was once lush and fertile during this period.
However, according to Orcish oral tradition, the good climate of the region was short-lived and began to deteriorate soon after the Orcs moved down into the floodplains. This is consistent, at least, with sparse evidence that the area was hit by a series of severe winters around the time when the Orcs should have been in the region. There is evidence of these winters in the Orcish tradition, known as ImaAnggab, the Mournful Night, the stories passed down from generation to generation speak of a long and dark time during which many of the Orcs died of sorrow, after realizing that the lands they had thought was the paradise of the ancestors was not.
ImaWaibelg
ImaWaibelg, the Good Day, is an auspicious day to the Orcish peoples. It is still celebrated to this day, though the fanfare that accompanies the modern-day celebration of ImaWaibelg did not exist during the period of time around when it originally transpired. ImaWaibelg is also known as ImaNamrelg, the Day of Awakening, so named because it was on this day that the first shaman, IkNulthanar in IktOrryk, literally "the First Speaker," came into her power. Though her true name has long been forgotten to the mists of time, this figure, IkNulthanar singlehandedly paved the way to salvation for the Orcish peoples who were beginning to dwindle in IldKa, the cursed land.
Though few credible sources from the time survive to this day, oral tradition reports that it was on the coldest most bitter winter yet experienced by the Orcish peoples that IkNulthanar, then a girl just barely past the age of womanhood, first heard whisperings from beyond ImaDagdáig, the Mistveil, which separated the world of the spirits from the world of the living. Prior to this, Orcish belief in the afterlife varied wildly from tribe to tribe, though the vast majority agreed that spirits of the dead drifted far beyond the reach of the living and could not be consulted for guidance nor prayed to for deliverance. All of this changed, however, when IkNulthanar wandered into a winter-stripped woods and encountered the spirit of her Máilam and discovered that she could part the Mistveil to see the world for what it truly was, inhabited by spirits both Orcish and not, ancient primordial souls of sky and land, as well as younger spirits that sprang from the trees, the frozen streams, and the stones.
It is said that it is the spirit of IkNulthanar's Máilam that gave her the first ImaKaindhal, the first Coldfeather, which remains to this day a symbol of the authority of IstThanarel and a conduit through which they could focus their talents to speak with the spirits of nature and use their willingly-given power to shape the flow of reality. Shortly thereafter, it is said that IkNulthanar awoke in the tent she shared with her parents, remembering vividly how she had met her Máilam, but not quite the way that she returned to her people.
Although ImaWaibelg ends with IkNulthanar returning to her people, having accomplished little if anything with her power, tradition states that this day is still the beginning of a new era for the Orcs. Tradition dictates that ImaWaibelg marks the day when the Orcs were reunited with the collective wisdom of their ancestors and took the first step toward the noble race that they are now. Furthermore, as the founding day for ImaThanardal, it is sacred and most auspicious and deserves reverence, at least, if not outright celebration.
ImaMálay
For many days after she received her ImaKaindhal, IkNulthanar could feel a power at the tips of her fingers but could not, hard as she tried, wield it, much less find a way to use it to help her people. Although this was the duty that her Máilam had charged her to do, she could find no way to fulfil what she had been told to do. In despair, on the fourth day after ImaWaibelg, IkNulthanar scaled the face of the nearest mountain and, for a short while, contemplated causing her own death if only to seek her Máilam's help past the veil.
Legend holds that it is on the way up the mountainside that IkNulthanar first noticed patches of green poking through the packed ice and snow that clung to the slopes of the mountain. Though at first she dismissed them, she quickly paid them heed when she saw snow melting and greenery growing in front of her, as though the spots were the fanciful footprints of some magical beast that she could not see. The words of her Máilam ringing in her ears, IkNulthanar called upon her power not to bend nature to her will, but instead to pierce the Mistveil to witness the true form of the creature that seemed so impervious to Winter's Grasp.
Though it was the first of its kind that IkNulthanar had ever seen, a name came to her from deep within, and from that day forth the spirit was called IkGren. By following the creature, IkNulthanar learned that the IkGrenel were spirits of spring and life, their vast, unfathomable power over the seasons drawn from nature itself. As winter grew colder and harsher, IkNulthanar sought out these creatures and learned their ways, earned their trust, and learned the language with which they communicated, which had no words, but instead shared meaning through soft touches of spring air, smells of plant growth, and raw emotion.
Through the IkGrenel, IkNulthanar learned the truth of the world of spirits. Though the spirits were themselves powerful, they could not expand their influence far beyond their personal surroundings. It was true that where they gathered, they created an area where their intrinsic powers manifested, creating, in the case of the IkGrenel, groves of greenery that remained verdant even in the harshest of winters, but they could not do much beyond that. It was then that IkNulthanar learned one of the principal tenets of ImaThanardal tradition: the spirits needed to use IstThanarel as conduits of their power—a truth that had once been known to the Orcish people, but had long since been forgotten to the mists of time.
With the help if the IkGrenel, IkNulthanar created ImaSanumálay, the Song of Growing, that warded away the harsh bite of winter, at least for a few days, and allowed her people to gather enough food that would allow them to not only survive the winter, but live rather comfortably in it.
