Winged Elves, Atheism/Disbelief

Dharta is a militaristic land of winged elves and harsh, mountainous terrain. The Dhartians are completely self-sustaining, though they trade occasionally to maintain good relations with several nearby countries. Dhartians do not attempt to invade other countries despite what some claim. They do, however, enter unannounced to fight against those they perceive to be usurpers and infidels. The Dhartians consider themselves protectors. Dhartian law states that no country should be under the fist of an unjust ruler, regardless of who that ruler may be. No Mortal or Immortal will stand in their way.

Dhartians are typically well tanned individuals with fair, dark hair and dark eyes. Their wings are usually grey with blackened tips. Occasionally a child is born with all Black or even Golden wings, which generally marks the child as important in some way in Dhartian culture.

They dislike the Whitecloaks of Kaise and despise all Runefausti. Often times their soldiers aid the Borderlanders in their constant vigil against the Savage Races.

The Dhartians where once the most magnificent of Eladrin. Called the Avariel, they were the most beautiful of the fey. With their magnificent golden wings they soared above the clouds like eagles. Servants of Correllon and Sahnine, they were the most devote to the protection of nature and the natural order.

But when the Great War in the Sky came, the dual worlds collided and the Gods fought the Primordials for control of creation. The Rift was torn between worlds, and it swallowed the Dhartians whole, depositing them in the barren Zozman Wastes. They cried out to be saved. Cried out for sustenance, for guidance, for anything. Anything at all. And their cries went unheard.

So they flew. Across the wastes, beyond the fires raining from the sky. So far and so hard they flew that thier wings were charred and paled by their journey. Turning them from their glorious golden shine to the grey and black they are today.

As they flew they saw carnage, horrible conflict, terrible rampaging fires. Every time the Avariel tried to aid one or another they become engulfed by the conflict, loosing many of their number. Yet every time they stopped to offer aid. The Avariel could not understand why the Gods would let such a terrible thing happen to the world. When they arrived at the Duradel, they had come as far as they could. Utterly exhausted, wounded physically and spiritually, they settled there in the mountains.

When the War in the Sky ended, they forsook the help of their former masters. “Where were you when this world needed you?” “How could you not protect your creations? You gave them life, it is your duty to protect it!” and so their gods withdrew their support. And the Avariel grew cold and bitter without the light of their former masters.

They named themselves Dhartians and claimed the Duradel for Dharta, a land free from the influence of gods and tyranny.

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