Ardathium

These brief details are conclusions drawn by me in my brief encounter with the ruins of this lost citadel. I cannot claim any word of this to be absolute truth, for the information I had available was vague, if not cryptic through the impenetrable veil of ignorance and time that shadowed my vision. Throughout the whole of Norrath's libraries and scholars, I was not able to find a single shred of evidence or legend relating to this place. Eerily, it was as if it had never existed, that the memory of Norrath itself had torn Ardathium from its mind.

Ardathium - that is the name of the place I shall detail as best I can in these pages. A glorious citadel constructed by the first followers of Mithaniel Marr in what is now known as the Southern Desert of Ro. I know for certain that this place exists, or existed, though in unfortunate, irreparable ruin beneath the unforgiving sands of the desert. I have been there, and I have seen it. I cannot tell you where or how to enter this place, for I was forced to leave prematurely during my investigation of the site. An earthquake forced me to escape, or be buried alive with the city's forgotten dead. Unfortunately, the earth swallowed the city further into its belly, the topmost portion of Ardathium's tower was buried deep beneath the sands once more. I cannot say when or if the city will rise again through the will and labor of united men and it would be the wasted energies of a fool to hope for as much within our lifetimes.

In the two and a half days that I was allotted the opportunity to explore the standing portions of this place, I learned so little and yet, so much. A great library had once been housed within the walls of the white and golden city of Truth. Though most of the tomes have dissolved into dust in the cruel clutches of time, I was fortunate to find a few legible documents, preserved by the desert's heat. The script was ancient, but I recognized bits and pieces of the runic tongue of old. This story is one that I have concluded to be a possible fate of Sir Grenic Drere, the hero of our tale, and the fate of the city of Ardathium.

After much consideration and prayer, Grenic conceded to Elwyean's advice and asked for his aid, for the swamplands were immune to fired kindled by human hands. The ancient, stoic elf understood and advised further that Grenic station his troops for defensive purposes, and to destroy the trolls that dared to flee toward the forest's borders. Hesitantly, Grenic agreed, knowing that the act would undoubtedly leave a mark on his soul for judgment in the hereafter. However, his heart and convictions were steely upon his promise to the late Countess and the protection of the great city and everything it stood for.

Elwyean briefly returned to his people to inform them of the coming destruction of the swamp. The elves were on guard for any trolls that penetrated Grenic's forces, though none left the Elddar to directly aid the human citadel. Elwyean's return was heralded in a massive azure, gold, and red maelstrom of arcane fires that erupted across the swamplands. The magical fire could be seen for miles beyond the forest and its glittering flames raged on for days. Grenic's forces destroyed hundreds of troll warriors and civilians that fled for their lives.

After twelve long days, the swamp of Innothule had been obliterated - the waters evaporated by the searing heat of the blaze and even the most robust of foliage reduced to pillars of ash. Elwyean never again returned to Ardathium or consorted with Grenic after the battle. Grenic's fortress was safe, though the cost of this victory would weigh heavily upon the knight's conscience and soul for the next several decades.

Summons were sent back to the pilgrims that had previously been sent away. Most returned, though a few opted to remain in the new settlements that had begun to establish upon the eastern coast of the continent. All were welcome back, though Grenic denied a celebration in the wake of a time of mourning for what had been done.

Credits Athen