Beyond the Dark Forests, beyond the mountain ranges, beyond the center of the continent—where the last remnants of the elves were already protected by powerful enchantments and beasts summoned since the dawn of civilization—even farther still lay the cities of the West. The creed and culture there were radically different. The people there were very careful about what others saw through their windows. Dominated by a pair of puritanical gods, they did not enjoy the diversity of misery that towns along the eastern coast possessed. They lived in poverty, but it was a self-inflicted poverty. They supported religious crusades; money that was not spent on health or clothing was gladly donated to the funds of the paladins. From this sprang some of the most misunderstood creatures of all.
Living in a civilization where garments might be torn—or even be something more than rags as long as they covered the bare minimum for modesty—caused problems. Crusts of grime on the skin testified to how difficult it was to get any of the citizens to bathe. They were convinced that the dead entered through windows and, with morbid intent, corrupted any man or maiden who exposed their naked body to water. Once a month, tubs of wood or marble were filled, depending on one's financial means. The man bathed first, then the woman, then the children from oldest to youngest, ending with the infants. The problem was that at no point was the water replaced, so many of the offspring became victims before they were old enough to face the hunger of their older siblings.
These situations were examples of how rigid their deities were. Phaladine, for instance, was capable of granting his will to priests and knights named after him to eliminate a pagan cause, but would not lift a finger to guide them on how to punish corrupt rulers.
These towns were miserable. Technologies discovered even by the humans of the East were unknown here. Concepts such as crop rotation, hygiene, or the use of medicinal herbs were not merely strange—they were forbidden. The integration of humans with other races, magical or otherwise, was taboo. Thousands of trade attempts ended with dwarves in prison, their precious goods burned, and in many cases, they also lost their lives. The hatred toward other species was not only rooted in how "demonic" they might be. When magical power resided in other species, these towns were particularly targeted. Seeing that none of these people offered resistance, they were enslaved and taken by the thousands to serve as labor for gigantic constructions. That was when their religion, their gods, sank them further instead of helping.
All beliefs were fundamentally built on primal fears and superstitions. In towns like Bloody Axe, gods of ingenuity and wisdom had deigned to look their way, driving technology to levels where humans could survive until the fall of magic. Here, however, it was sacrifice and resignation—beliefs combined with a useless faith based on the concept that the pure, the innocent, would be rewarded sooner or later. Unfortunately for their society, it worked.
When the great mages of other races withdrew into their self-imposed exile, towns like "Justice Hammer" celebrated their victory—made sweeter by the fact that it had been prophesied by the priests of Phaladine. They renounced technology. Magic and magical people were driven from their families. To say they were disowned is a mild way of implying that if they were seen, they would be killed. But in their stupid zeal to eliminate and restrict their own nature, they forgot that magical beings were not merely creatures who enslaved and killed people. They also delighted in any strange and foolish behavior. They modified a very harmless plant, normally used to relieve fatigue when chewed, allowing for endless days of more than twenty hours of labor in the fields or felling trees to expand croplands—lands that could only produce for a few seasons before turning dry and barren. To that plant, they added a very mild aphrodisiac. It was not something noticeable at first glance. Men already copulated with their wives, begetting children left and right. When these couples died—due to the unhealthy nature of their lifestyle, upbringing, and diet—divine law allowed a man to take even minors as long as they had begun menstruating. This even included relatives—as long as they were not his own daughters; Phaladine decreed that only daughters were forbidden as it was obscene, but not so sisters or cousins. However, one in every thousand of these plants was particularly potent. It deranged the person, who would run seeking to fornicate purely for the pleasure of it. Only stupidity remained in their minds. Perhaps this gift—of dubious intent, more resembling an erotic theater that satisfied some perversions of those who had once owned the continent—might have been forgivable. But the final gift was something abominable.
By Phaladine's decree, when one of these cases occurred, the afflicted individual was stoned to death—often satisfying the needs of those who would later serve as executioners. But one night, according to the High Priest, an angel arrived and, casting its golden gaze upon them, indicated that there was a more advanced way to locate sin in the hearts of the impious. And so, in a single night, he brought down a table surrounded by four crystal pillars. "Place upon it those you doubt in their faith in Phaladine. If they are men or women of good standing, they shall have nothing to fear. If not, their bodies will be deformed, proving they are servants of evil. Phaladine has spoken."
All followed the instructions. This was hailed as the greatest sign of a miracle. In the ten towns where the puritanical religion was practiced, these structures appeared.
For now, I travel there. My beloved rests in the keep. I must recover a countless number of wretched souls who were mutated by the magical technology of the Blood Elves—those who delighted in watching poor men and women become something resembling demons without any self-awareness, only to enslave them afterward, if they survived the humans of the villages. But by that time, they had already laughed too much at the ignorance born of the townspeople's scarce knowledge... Unforgivable!