Here is the history Thera that anyone can read in 'help history'. I put it on this site in one pleace for players' comfort. I'll update history here when Immortals update the one in Divine Blood help system.

Mota, the Great God as he is known, has been called away to another universe by fellow gods. A matter of great importance it must be, for Mota would never leave his creation alone for any greater reason than the possible destruction of his reality.

And so, it has come to pass that Mota has left his three eldest children in charge while he is away. His instructions explicit and clear, they are to observe the world and maintain the balance between good and evil. If one side should gain too much power over the other, then a restoration is in order. The young gods are to work together in bringing good and evil into alignment.

The youngest son, Chassim, realized the opportunity given to him and his siblings with their father's absence. Calling together his brothers, Chassim told Baeon, the eldest, and Xharr, the middle, his plans to wrest control of the world while their father was away, overthrowing his creator. Baeon, older and wiser than his younger brother, dispelled the notion of rebellion. He knew better than to tamper with his father's world while Mota was away, but Chassim did not let his ambition lessen. He then turned to Xharr and asked him to join in the cause. Xharr, uninterested, refused to participate in the affair, but made it clear that he would not intervene in the affairs of the world. He would take no part in destruction nor creation upon the world.

And so, with no aide from his brothers, Chassim created a race of beings loyal to him and his great cause, control over the world. Chassim knew that his brother Baeon adored the nature-loving and beautiful elven race. With this in mind, Chassim created the Drow, a sinister and perverted elven race. Their purpose for existence: conquest. Needless to say, Baeon grew ever furious as he watched Chassim, his own brother, defying his father's wishes. Seeing what Chassim was doing, he nurtured the goodness of the existing races of the world (for he knew not to create a new race, lest his father become more irate toward the changes in his world). Free will given to mortals, not everyone turned to aid Baeon. Many, in fact, joined Chassim's cause. Still, Xharr watched.

Chassim's drow grew and thrived in the underground, separate from other elves. In the horrid darkness, they grew stronger with the planet's magic and their own need for survival skills. Their underworldly ways taught them to be cautious, stealthy, cunning, and merciless. The wilds of the underground were nearly impossible to survive for the surface dwellers then. Mota had created terrible creatures within the depths to keep his peoples together in the light of day. The drow tamed the wilds of the caverns, building cities for themselves. All the while they held their reverence toward their god, Chassim, the God of Conquest as they called him.

Chassim, of course, never expressly showed himself to these mortals. They were his troops, yes, but mortal and inferior. Chassim manipulated his drow puppets to strengthen them, to mature them into the most supreme fighting force the world had ever seen.

As millennia passed on the mortal world, the young god Baeon had, too, nurtured a fighting force of his own. Shortly after Chassim interfered in mortal affairs, Baeon, obeying his father's commands, began work on his own army, which he would use to counter the dark, greedy nature of the drow race.

The years rolled by in the mortal world. Goodness and evil grew more fierce, more unstable, more powerful. Baeon was proud of his work. He felt with his very being that Chassim had no chance of victory, that the balance would be maintained. As with a young elf in his first bow lesson, or a dwarf at his father's forge for the first time, Baeon was still naive in understanding just what actions were needed to suppress the destructive forces.

Chassim, underground with his fierce creation, trained the Drow to kill mercilessly. As the drow race, his minions, his pride and joy, cross the world, slaughtering endlessly, Chassim's grip on the world would tighten. He would rule the mortal world through his followers. Baeon's weak-willed fighting force will stand not a chance, thought the greedy Chassim. I will send out my troops before they are ready, and because they are not ready, neither will my brother's troops be fully prepared. My drow are such finely honed fighting machines, they are now born with the destructive tendencies my work has strived for. This inherent knowledge in the young strengthens the vigor with which they will destroy the other inhabitants of the world.

Uneasily, Baeon, in mortal guise, rest under a gigantic tree, fruitful with insects, nuts, and birds. Why am I really fighting with my brother, thought Baeon. What have these past millennia been about, really? Am I doing this to be loyal to Mota? Am I about to slaughter thousands of people whom adore me to wrest control of this mortal world from my brother sensed that the time would come when his soldiers, his champions, would be called to battle the corrupt drow of the underworld and their evil allies. Chassim, too, found that Baeon's forces grew as large and as quickly as the intelligent races grew wise with age and experience. Still, Xharr watched.

In a daring effort to surprise his older brother, Chassim coerced his most loyal followers, the leaders of the dark forces, into believing that they were ready for the attack. Baeon, ill-prepared, knew of his brother's actions on the mortal plane and instructed his army to march. From Ofcol, a holy city of light with the immense Golden Citadel, the troops marched to Midgaard, believed to be the target of Chassim's attack. The Dark Army left their training grounds in the Dwarf Forest to venture northwest. As Baeon's army lay in waiting of the coming ferocious defense of Mota's most sacred city, Chassim's Dark Army changed direction. Halfway to Midgaard, they altered their course toward Thalos, a strong and well-fortified city. Unfortunately for the Thalotians, the Dark Army proved the stronger.

Baeon wept as he watched one of his father's grand designs unfurl at the touch of Chassim's evil force. The sadness of this deity spread throughout his most loyal subjects. The sadness carried with it a message of need, the need to leave Midgaard and speed for Thalos' defense. Chassim knew the loyal army of Mota and Baeon was coming but did little to prepare, believing his force the mightier. Taking the eastern road from the city, the massive group neared Thalos from the east. Having circled around the Dark Army, they were able to surprise Chassim's blood-hungry forces. The superior Drow race, with their goblin and kobold fodder, had the city in ruins long before Baeon's troops grew near enough to discern the bustle of battle. As the two forces collided in the Dwarf Forest just east of Thalos, the three gods in the otherworldly plane felt a powerful sensation, a first real sense of darkness, cold, wrathful.

M'Daroz Olb'tann, a drow, halted his bloodletting a moment as a pringly sensation coursed through his body. Stepping over a human body, he went to the window, glaring outside to see the gray clouds roll over the sky.

Tal Harned of Thalos' remaining human defenders felt the chill as his axe sliced through a kobold's leg. Not a trained warrior, this common merchant knew that great evil had just entered the realms. A cold wind blew from the north. This alone drew his concern having spent his whole life feeling the breeze from the east. Something was wrong indeed.

Bargk Ironhand of Korrin was well-known in his Dwarven homeland for his zeal in battle. As everyone on the planet shivered in fear, apprehension, dread, Bargk froze not knowing how to react. As the brief moment passed, as the clouds appeared on the horizon, forming fast, he wondered why he had not been cut down in his hesitation. Glancing quickly around, every living creature was just stirring as if from a trance of amazement.

No one resumed fighting, everyone intent on the clouds, intent on the universal fear. Frightened, truly, for the first time in his two hundred-year-old life, Bargk began to pray. Those who hadn't already begun, commenced to seek guidance, to plead for an explanation, to pray for forgiveness, to beg for mercy.

As a new darkness settled over the land, the eyes of Thalos stared fixed at the mysterious wall of darkness that was advancing on an unnatural wind. Some mortals gripped the handles of their weapons and staves tighter, others dropped them in a paralyzing fear. A deep fog settled over the city, blocking out the warm noon sun. Even the three Divine brothers paused in interest at the unexpected turn of events. "What is this?" wondered Chassim, irritated at the intrusion. "My conquest is almost complete, I must not be deterred." He then ordered his generals and followers to continue the attack. Slowly, the paralysis faded and the evil force began anew the battle for Thalos. Through the thick fog they cut down the defenders, still in shock at the mysterious darkness.

Still grinning after cutting down a rake wielding human, the drow swordsman, Tal'non heard an unworldly scream coming from behind his left shoulder. Turning to view into the dense fog, trying to find the source of the screaming, the fearless drow realizes that the screaming is everywhere. Deafening as the fog is blinding, the scream starts to send chills up his spine. Unnatural sounding, as if from terrifying, pain filled demons from the depths of the Abyss has come to tear everyone limb from limb. Something at his feet stirs as a bloodied human stands before him. Missing part of his head and holding a rake, Tal'non realizes this was the human he had just slain. The human slowly advances on the drow, not even when he severs the arm of the zombie does the abomination slow. A hasty retreat is wise he concludes.

All throughout the besieged city of Thalos, the dead was rising, killing all living beings, good and evil. Before the valiant defenders and the hostile attackers realized their fight was not between one another any longer, the numbers of both armies was dwindled. The plain weapons of the mortals did no real damage to the undead.

Backed into a corner, facing a half dozen mix of dead drow and humans, the holy paladin, Jayde realized his end is near. Praying to the good Baeon to protect him from becoming a mindless zombie once dead and to give him the strength not to fear his enemies, the blade of his sword started to glow with a warm aura. With the first slice of his sword, a deep, steaming gash cut into the chest of the first zombie. A blood chilling scream escaped the mouth of the undead drow as it fell, unmoving on the ground, never to rise again. Laying out the rest of the zombies in a similar manner, Jayde rushes out to tell his fellow-in-arms about the glowing, blessed weapons.

All the while, Xharr watching the action from a magical orb, puzzled at the strange, new force, began to feel fear for the first time in his existence. As the few living beings cut down the last of the undead with bright or dark blessed weapons, new enemies emerged from the shadows. Xharr saw huge, pitch black beasts form from the very shadows of the setting sun. Knowing that someone or something of tremendous power was commanding the shadow beasts, Xharr left to meet with his warring brothers.

High above Midgaard in Xharr's divine study room he summoned his two brothers. First to come was Baeon. In a golden flash of light he materialized, standing over Xharr's orb he quietly whispers to no one directly, "I will not allow it to fall, Thalos will not be defeated." Looking up at Xharr he adds, "Just look at his treachery. He sacrifices his own followers in order to gain the upper hand." "You are weak and foolish, just like your pathetic little army," a booming voice cracked from a dark corner. From the shadows emerged an angered Chassim, "Do not blame me for that sad show of power." Baeon returned, "Your treacherous lies only-" "SILENCE!," Xharr had had enough. "You both are so busy hating each other you do not even see what is happening. Look into my orb, see your armies fall to the translucent shadows." Inside the orb a horrible scene was taking place in Thalos. Although made of darkness, the shadows seemed to dissolve away living flesh. Already many dead were on the ground; limbs missing bodies and torsos missing appendages littered the bloody streets of Thalos.

"Do you feel it? Do you feel the presence?" "Odd, quite odd," replied the evil incarnate. "We haven't felt anything like this since Mota left," added the good Baeon. "Correct, a power like this has not been seen in Thera in the millenia since father left. I fear that this presence may hold more strength than Mota himself." "Impossible!" growled the evil one. Xharr continued, "No, it isn't. In my research I have found evidence of beings of great power. Beings who can essentially absorb the essence of others. Although powerful, each essence absorbed only adds to the dark and unstable power of the being. A for such as this was the reason Mota left long ago. "A silence fell over the room. Each brother examined the recent turn of events. Xharr broke the silence, "I believe that we should-" Suddenly the room shuddered and filled with a red, sulfur smelling smoke. A raspy voice spoke, "Motaspawn fear DIE!" In a bright flash of light the three brothers found themselves in the heat of battle inside the walls of Thalos. Surprised, Xharr commanded his two brothers to call off their army's attack on Each other. "We must ally, already my small army is on the march here. Call off your war on each other. Tell your generals to band together against these shadows." "Brother, look...to the east..." Chassim urged in a uncertain tone.