The Story of Nerath The Valelands & The Nerath Timeline The current year for our Valelands campaign is set during the year 103AE. Inspired By Gary Gygax

At the twilight of the golden age, a new dawn breaks. Forged in the fires of chaos that followed the cataclysmic fall of Bael Turath and Arkhosia, the world writhed under the ironclad heels of petty kings and warring bands. Yet, from this primordial soup of ambition and conflict, a singular star ascended: the House of Nerath.

Legend whispered that Erathis herself, the goddess of civilization, guided the hand of the House of Nerath. And so, under a single, unifying banner, most of the world was united. The first Emperor, the legendary Margath, claimed the land for his capital, Nera—a site hallowed by the slumbering bones of a great gold dragon.

Nerath’s ambition, however, was born of bitter memory. The devastating wars of its predecessors served as a solemn warning, and so the empire sought to forge a new path. It championed an open tolerance for all races, a radical decree enforced by the full might of the law.

It was a golden age, a fleeting moment of peace bought at the cost of cultural identity, as the vibrant tapestries of racial heritage were woven into the bland fabric of imperial conformity. A darkness, however, still loomed at the edges, where aberrant creatures, orcs, goblinoids, and gnolls festered, deemed too savage for civilization. For five hundred years, Nerath held its supremacy, the Flame Imperishable in the heart of its capital, Nera, a beacon of its unassailable power. But all empires must fall, and Nerath, too, began to rot from within. The embers of discontent sparked into rebellions, stretching the once-unbreakable Imperial Legions to their breaking point.

This internal strife was the portent of a true cataclysm. From the wild places, the scattered gnoll tribes coalesced under a single, terrifying banner. Their chieftain, the Ruler of Ruin, a self-proclaimed prophet of the demon lord Yennoghu, became the herald of the empire's final days. With demons marching at his side, the Ruler of Ruin unleashed a tide of gnolls upon Nerath. The empire, weakened and beleaguered, was utterly unprepared. Within months, the gnolls besieged the capital itself. The Gates of Destiny, a symbol of Nera’s majesty, were torn down and defiled, and the emperor slain.

In the wake of Nera’s fall, the provinces turned on each other, a ravenous pack of wolves vying for the scraps of the imperial throne. But from the heart of this chaos, a hero emerged: King Elidyr. He seized the crown, rallied the shattered legions, and faced the gnoll horde at the climactic Battle of Sarthel. Though he paid the ultimate price, Elidyr dealt the gnolls a crippling blow. Yet, victory was a fleeting illusion; the legions were scattered, and the gnolls consolidated their new-won territory. The Empire of Nerath was no more, its provinces fracturing into a myriad of city-states. While the Kingdom of Astraean arose from the ashes, the specter of Nerath’s fall haunted the world for a hundred years.

Yeenoghu, sensing a weakened world, unleashed another immense horde of gnolls. In this darkest hour, the Guardian Clan of minotaurs, ancient enemies of the demon lord, forged an alliance with the civilized races. Led by the mighty Asteron Stonesplitter, they drove back the horde. But this victory was not without cost, and the minotaurs found themselves at odds with their own kind, branded as traitors.

As imperial authority crumbled, the noble families of Sarthel formed a new Council of Lords, and the world held its breath. Not long after, The Bloodspear War erupted, as orcs from The Stonemarch swept through Nentir Vale.

Havoc followed in their wake: Kalton Manor and Raven Roost were abandoned, Fastormel was destroyed, and Fallcrest’s army was annihilated at Gardbury Downs. Only the swift warning of a runner saved Hightown from the same fate as its lower counterpart, an event now immortalized in the Cross City Race.

Our story, focuses on the region of Nentir Vale, once the proud heart of Nerath, now a lawless wasteland swallowed by chaos. It is here, in this land of growing darkness, that a few small points of light still remain. It is here that champions are born, and legends are forged. Welcome to the Nentir Vale.