High Elves

Avelorn lies at the heart of Ulthuan and the Everqueen is its sovereign. Her realm is the principal site of the Earth Mother, and she is regarded as the spiritual leader of the entire Elven realm. The position of the Everqueen is always taken by the previous queen's firstborn daughter, conceived during her year-long ritual marriage to the Phoenix King. After this formal marriage, they are free to take fresh consorts, but only the daughter of the Phoenix King can be the new Everqueen. Hence the queens of Avelorn have always been the Everqueens of Ulthuan, forming an unbroken chain from ages past. Avelorn itself is ancient. Its great forest is the oldest of all Elf realms. Ancient glamours lie upon its tangled groves, and creatures of legend - Treemen, Nymphs and Dryads - still walk beneath its eaves. It is a place of outstanding beauty and visceral danger to intruders, even the monsters that wander down from the Annulii mountains. The court of the Everqueen is always on the move, travelling through Avelorn from place-to-place like a great carnival, pitching silken pavilions wherever it halts. By day, silver laughter rings through the forest as the Elves make sport. By night, faerie lights flicker in the darkness, illuminating the revels and feasting. And yet, to mistake this Everqueen as merely a totem of the Earth Mother, Isha, would be unwise. She has a shrewd grasp of the political games played by Elven royals, and sends her own envoys to the courts - the Handmaidens - to ensure the good of all Ulthuan is upheld when such machinations are underway. And while Everqueens of the past may have avoided the battlefield, Alarielle the Radiant joins the fight without hesitation. Her power drawn from the hearts of all Asur, she is anathema to creatures of fell spirit, and no one can speak falsehood in her presence. So it is that a High Elf army might find glorious aid in its darkest hour, when the Radiant goes to war...

Legend has it that, when Malekith fled into the west, the folk of Nagarythe chose Alith Anar as their ruler. The new king was the last heir of a great line, his forebears slain by the Witch King’s minions. In those days there were many Dark Elves still hiding in Ulthuan, and Alith Anar took to eradicating them with a vengeance. Foes not killed in battle were crucified on trees or had their skin stretched across the ragged cliff-faces, where those who passed could witness the insurgents' grisly fate. As Anar attacked and burned each enemy encampment, his infamy grew. He and his loyal warriors struck from the darkness to purge their homeland of traitors and those sympathetic to Malekith. And so the Legend of the Shadow King grew. To this day, Anar carries a bleak outlook, one which matches the lands over which he reigns, as the Shadowlands, Nagarythe, are dark and desolate places. Nagarythe's jagged coast still bears the scars of the Sundering, yet it is seen as home by the tough, seasoned Shadow Warriors who look upon their kin in the other nine kingdoms with nothing short of utter disdain. Anar himself is a king without a palace, not that he desires a luxurious throne. One of the greatest Elven palaces of all, Anlec, was once capital of Nagarythe and the seat of the first Phoenix king. Now, it lies in ruins, but there have been many attempts by the Druchii and even some Asur to bring it back to past glories. The Shadow King, however, is more comfortable with his warriors in the wilds or even ranging beyond Nagarythe’s borders, to fulfil his eternal quest for vengeance against the traitor-kin who ruined his homeland and slaughtered his bloodline!

"Tor Yvresse will never fall as long as I still live." From the ten kingdoms of Ulthuan, the High Elves march to war. For millennia they have stood guard over the world, defending it from the predations of Daemons, the worshippers of unholy Gods, and the unthinking meddling of lesser races. Their existence is one of eternal battle, fought with a courage that only they possess. When the Phoenix King issues the call to war, his people gladly answer, for it is not in the High Elves’ nature to pass so easily into history at the hands of their enemies, as they defend their island-haven to the last. On the east coast of Ulthuan is the misty land of Yvresse, a land of mountain foothills, deep coniferous forests and towering cliffs. To many it is considered a bleak coastal realm, but those who call it home see it is as a place as fine as any on the continent; a place of great significance to the whole of Ulthuan due to its eastern position, shielding the haven’s coast from intruders from the Old World. Its Shifting Isles, a cluster of islands just off the coast of Yvresse’s mainland, is an area shrouded in legend. Ancient spells of illusion keep the area covered in mist and each islet is seldom encountered twice in the same spot. This creates treacherous mazes of shoals and sandbars which confuse even High Elf sailors. Yvresse’s only major city is Tor Yvresse, a metropolis which was once as beautiful and grand as any of the Elf cities of old. In the present day, however, many of its mansions are uninhabited and its great amphitheatres stand silent and empty. Its thick, reinforced walls are mighty and deep, but there will likely never be enough warriors to hold them. The tragedy of near annihilation still weighs heavily on the city’s heart, after the wicked Goblin they know as Grom the Paunch invaded long ago. His stupendous horde inflicted unimaginable losses upon the High Elves as he brought the city to its knees. Tor Yvresse’s story would surely have ended with desolation at Grom’s hands were it not for the heroics of one of the greatest Elven generals, Eltharion the Grim. At the crucial moment of the invasion, Eltharion and his hardened troops arrived during the city’s darkest hour to turn the tide of battle against monumental odds. Grom’s army was routed, with the obese Goblin himself chased out of Yvresse. Eltharion, newly-elected as the Warden of Tor Yvresse, followed in his wake, sweeping through the Badlands like a wind of blades to slaughter Warbosses and topple Greenskin fortresses wherever he encountered them. But Grom had escaped, and worse still, Eltharion learned that his reputation had spread so far and wide that Warbosses were actually seeking him out, knowing that "Pointy-‘ead" would "give ‘em a proper fight." Returning to Tor Yvresse, Eltharion began to train its armies and fortify the city as never before. The next time a Waaagh! lands on the shores of Ulthuan, the folk of Yvresse – and their grim Warden – will be ready for them.

"When the mighty Dragons are roused, Caledor shall rise once again." The High Elves, or the Asur as they are known among themselves and other Elves, are a noble people with a long and proud history stretching back beyond a time when men were still fur-clad savages. On their fair isle of Ulthuan in the centre of the Great Ocean, they are far removed from the petty squabbles of the lesser races, practicing magic and the advanced arts of warfare. They train eternally for war, repelling the unending barrage of piracy and raids targeted at their home continent from all malevolent forces. All the while, Malekith and the exiled Dark Elves seek to lay claim to the Phoenix Throne, posing a real and constant threat. Caledor is a mountainous, thinly-populated realm of Ulthuan where mighty Dragons dwell beneath the peaks in an endless slumber. Once, none could stand against Caledor’s Dragon-borne warriors and fearsome Mages in battle, as they soared above the thermals of their land’s sullen volcanoes. Their ruling noble house traces its bloodline back to one of the mightiest ancient Mages, Caledor Dragontamer. Not only was he responsible for the creation of the Great Vortex, but it was also he who first bound the fearsome Drakes of the land to his will. The land took the great Mage’s name, and the distinguished line of the House of Caledor would ascend to the Phoenix Throne only two generations later, after the Phoenix King was poisoned by Malekith in his attempts to seize the throne. With the majority of the noble Princes massacred by Malekith’s followers, Caledor the Conqueror, grandson of Dragontamer, ascended amidst the beginnings of an age of tragedy and conflict. In an eventful reign, he led a fraught but successful defence of Ulthuan from Malekith’s early attempts to reclaim it. The lineage and history of the Dragon Princes of Caledor are great and the martial powers they wrought had previously long been unmatched. But the fury of the land’s volcanoes eventually ebbed and as the peaks lost their fire, the Dragons drifted into slumber becoming ever more difficult to rouse. As the prominence of the Dragons waned, so did the power of the haughty Caledorian Princes, whose grip on the Phoenix Throne slackened and their kingdom drifted out of importance. Imrik is the last of the line of Caledor Dragontamer and Caledor the Conqueror, and the highest noble amongst the current Dragon Princes. Leading the knights of the House of Caledor, he remains one of the few that can wake the Dragons in times of need. Gone are the days when his followers rode into battle atop mighty Fire Drakes, yet Imrik alone fights in the traditional manner of Caledor upon his majestic and fanatically-loyal Dragon, Minaithnir. And fight he does, standing in defence of his homeland and all Ulthuan together with Tyrion and Teclis, themselves descendants of the great house of Aenarion.

"With Moon Staff and Sword, I am master of magics and shaper of fates. Destiny beckons and I must heed the call." The High Elves – or Asur as they call themselves – are among the oldest civilisations in the world; possibly, only the jungle-dwelling Lizardmen can lay claim to a longer existence. Although mortal, Elves lead incredibly long lives; so long, in fact, that the spans allotted to men seem to be as fleeting as those of mayflies. From their island fortress-paradise of Ulthuan near the centre of the world, the High Elves – although aloof and arrogant in their manner – have generally walked the path of Order, using their longevity to become warriors without peer and mages without equal. As descendants of Aenarion, the first Phoenix King, the twin brothers Tyrion and Teclis were marked for greatness from the moment they were born, like all of his line. Whereas Tyrion is renowned for his martial excellence, Teclis, who could not hope to match his brother’s physical prowess, instead became a magic-user of no small note. Widely considered to be the most powerful sorcerer of the age and one of the greatest ever to walk the world, there are few, if any, capable of defeating him in a duel, not even the vengeance-obsessed Dark Elf Witch King, Malekith. Unlike his brother, who considers the defence of the High Elf kingdom of Ulthuan his chief duty, Teclis has a care for the whole world and sees it as his duty to prevent it falling into the hands of the Ruinous Powers. It is this generosity of spirit that has seen the High Elves allied with such disparate races as the men of the Empire and the Lizardmen of Lustria, impacting the former to the extent that the Empire’s fabled Colleges of Magic would never have existed if it was not for Teclis’ wise counsel and tuition in magical matters. Such is his renown, Teclis – the Loremaster of Hoeth and Warden of the White Tower – casts a shadow so lengthy that his influence will be felt right across the world long after his death.

"Our beautiful land is besieged on all sides, but we resist like our fathers before us. We will emerge victorious and more intractable than ever to these turbulent times when our corrupt brothers come to ravage our shores. We are the Asur, the sons of Aenarion and Ulthuan shall never fall." The ancient High Elves have long stood guard over the world, ensuring it remains in balance – Daemonic efforts of hordes of Chaos and the foolish meddling of younger, ‘lesser’ races notwithstanding. Known among their kind as the Asur, the High Elves are both conceited and detached, no doubt due to their immense longevity and the comparative isolation of their island kingdom of Ulthuan, which forces such a worldview to a great extent. Whereas in other races such traits could prove fatal, in the Asur’s case they are assets, for the Elves have used them to attain knowledge and skills in magic and war that far outstrip those of almost all their historical adversaries. Now, there is one among the Asur – a warrior so great that he has yet to meet his match with a blade: Prince Tyrion, Heir of Aenarion and Defender of Ulthuan. So impressive are Tyrion’s martial talents, so perfectly does he combine skill-at-arms with speed of thought, that there are many among the Asur who consider him to be both the world’s greatest living warrior and the reincarnation of the first Phoenix King, Aenarion, said to be reborn and living again through the young prince. Unswervingly loyal to the current Phoenix King, Finubar, and the Everqueen, Alarielle, Tyrion discharges his duty as Ulthuan’s defender with the utmost seriousness, spending much of his time building up and training the High Elves’ armies into a fighting force with few equals, if any. There are also many entries in the Asur’s Book of Days that stand testament to the prince’s personal bravery – during the cataclysmic Battle of Finuval Plain, against his arch enemy, the Witch King Malekith, and his Dark Elf forces, Prince Tyrion even rescued the Everqueen from the battlefield, and has remained her consort and closest advisor ever since.