After the Great War, later to be called the Demon War, things calmed down for quite some time. Approximately 1,200 years of relative peace will pass in the realm of Hypeltheon. Many changes will be made, but not much technological progress. Though I'm getting ahead of myself, now.
Shortly after the victory at The Rift, an order of Cethindol Mages: The Eclipsed Moon, moved in and created a gate. From the bodies of the slain, a massive structure was built around the Rift, to add a physical seal. Two massive pillars, wrought of once-living flesh and blood. The faces of men and Orcs, twisted in eternal pain, bleeding forever upon the earth. This region will forever be cursed, and referred to as The Gate. None dared go near this area after the war. Too many painful memories rested on those fields. The ground was stained red, and no grass would ever grow there again. Around The Gate itself the earth is soft, soaked straight through with the blood of the fallen. If you lean your head close to a head on one of the two pillars, you can almost hear their cries and calls for help, moaning from a distant plane. It's an eerie place, more-or-less deserted. Not even the bravest of men or armies go near it anymore.
Three years would pass as the world licked its wounds. Tharkas sent aid to a death-stricken Unluthio, and they began to rebuild. The whole Eastern side of Avalon was occupied by Tharkas' Knights, and the other Kingdoms retreated to their own lands, to tend to themselves and their own troubles. Everything seemed very calm and peaceful, nothing was wrong.
Unfortunately they were wrong...
In the Carpean Oceans of the far East, an island dwells, shrouded in darkness, where no man dares step. This is Dragon Isle. It is the only known home of Dragons. Though they had never left the vicinity of the island in hundreds of years. With the coming evils West of the isle, in Unluthio, the Dragons felt an urge to eke out and explore. What they found was a realm where odd little creatures scurried about frivilously across the earth, and towers of smoke rose up into the sky from odd formations. What they really found was Unluthio.
Workers and Knights from Tharkas were out aiding the meager Unluthian population, who had survived for two years in caves and the hills, rebuild their majestic kingdom. A shadow quickly descended over the deserts, forcing all human eyes to the sky. Dragons had come upon the city of Unluthio Castle. For three straight months the Knights of Tharkas - The White Cloud Army - waged a constant battle to keep the skies clear of Dragons. The old arts of archery were lost to all but the Tower Guard, so they resorted to weilding catapults and great artillery that would launch great masses into the sky. Using this manner of attack, they had felled eight Dragons into the Carpean Ocean, those were great victories. But all victories came at a cost - the White Cloud, still limping from their battles with the Daemonic Hoards, had lost several hundred Knights whenever Dragons ascended. This wasn't a matter for the whole world - but it was a nuisance for the White Cloud, and Unluthio. Word was sent to the Elves, and they came quickly with their Druidic and Lancer armies, ready to aid the Knights in any way they could. Though the Elves despised the deserts, the Druids did what they could by positioning themselves near Oases to utilize their abundance of life in the bleak deserts.
Whenever a Dragon attacked now, he was bombarded by catapult fodder, then Lancers would leap high into the sky whenever one swooped down, stabbing into its scales with Mithril spears, lances, and swords. Though it wasn't much help, it was more than the Knights could do on their own. Then... the shadow came. A massive army of Dragons flew across the Ocean, forming a gigantic cloud upon the ground. Several were killed by Catapult fire, merely because there were so many - but there were still thousands more left. It looked as if Tharkas would once again have to leave Unluthio. Thankfully, help came from an unthought of location. The Cethindol Tower. Their Order of the Eclipsed Moon laid waste to the Dragons, and stemmed their assault. The present Archmage of Cethindol, Mithren, sealed off Dragon Isle.
The massive island was broken into four parts - a central island, and three thin islands that would forever circle the center location. None but the mages know how those islands move, and that makes it treacherous for boats to pass through that region. All the dragons left were cursed to sleep for eternity upon the reformed Dragon Isle, and a field that stretched from the seas to the heavens was placed around it, so that none of the dragons, should they awake, could get free from their prison.
All the realms of the world began to recouperate.
