To be sent to the fields of Elysium
In the days of the rise of the holoempire, the practice of banishment to a nearby group of islands became a common punishment for those who dared delve into forbidden arts and magics, or who began to show signs of schizohood. The land was fertile, but colonization deemed unfeasible with the monstrous wildlife believed to be caused by the chubanite of the land. Nearly all who endured the punishment would eventually turn to become schizos either from previous beliefs or out of resentment for what they believed to be unjust punishment. Official records in the Empire show no mention of this practice, beyond a brief attempt of colonization that fell schizo attacks after which the island was considered more trouble to settle than it was worth.
The first of these people who showed signs of rising beyond their cursed status were those in the west who morbidly would refer to themselves as Maggots. They claimed to follow the teachings of a man among them who once upon a time taught them the secrets of using chubanite of the land to perform what they referred to as 'Alchemy'. It is said that this man acquired the knowledge by tricking an unknown god in a game of wits.
In the south arose a second group, tall and pale. They were led by a class of regal men and women who claimed blood descent to one who had conquered the night. The vestiges of his blessing allowing them to not merely survive but prosper in the foggy lands of the from whence they hail. The two peoples became quick allies after initial wariness when they first met, for land itself was hostile with no other possible friendly faces in sight. This would change when two groups of wandering nomads arrived at the central lands that had become a meeting ground for the two aforementioned tribes.
Hailing from the north was a tribe of beastfolk, who spoke of an honoured warrior from ages past who had once freed them from trolls seeking to enslave and turn the beastfolk into their minions, slaying the monsters with his bare hands and never once showing sign of their wicked aura affecting him. Those times were gone now, as they were forced to migrate south to escape a resurgence of schizo tribes who otherwise made the island their home along with its dangerous wildlife.
They were joined by a clan of colourfully haired peoples hailing from the east, led by a family sporting wicked horns growing from their heads. A cause of concern at first by the southwestern tribes, but the beastfolk would vouch for them as they had aided in fighting off a schizo ambush on the trail to lands where the grass was greener. The clan itself preferred not to divulge too much of their past, only that their course had been changed by a renowned redeemer of the accursed.
Caution towards these strangers would soon come close to hostility as news arrived that they were followed by a horde of detestable inhabitants that stalked the lands. It was only through the admission that they could not stand against the horde individually that they made peace between one another, to join forces and face their joint eternal foe as one.
The legends of the ensuing battle speak of great many feats lost to many today. Of maggots raising mountains to fight on their behalf, of the beastmen’s ferocity terrifying even the mighty trolls, of palemen who would time and time again lure their foes into place for their stratagems, and of the blue haired chieftain of the demonfolk who led them all and would end the battle in a route by personally leading a cavalry charge into the enemy’s backline.
Songs were sung, drinks were had. A great feast was held in honour of the bravery of all who had fought. Once the merriment drew to its closing, representatives of all four tribes gathered to come to a decision.
“No longer shall we live in fear, alone and in the dark.”
So it was that the League of Mans was founded with the chieftain of demonfolks as its head, and the first steps towards the civilization of the island were taken. No longer would being sent to the lands of Elysium be equivalent to death.
These events took place a few centuries ago and even to this day as our isolation comes to a close, much of the island remains a dangerous frontier or worse. Still, we prosper. Along coasts and rivers, cities are founded by our four peoples, carving safe havens for our citizenry. May the four bless those who brave the wilds and bring more of the lands into our fold, be they settlers or adventurers who help carve a future for the league.