Founding Chaos

Warlords fought over the first lands. Dynasties came and went. Modern Chaos was established by historians when Swayville became the longest living and most progressive King of Chaos. Swayville founded the Royal Houses of Chaos to create a system of checks and balances within Court society. It ensured a long and mostly peaceful time throughout Chaos. He was succeeded by Merlin, son of Dara and Corwin, a few years following the Patternfall War.

Patternfall (Black Road) War

The Patternfall War begun when Chaos sought a weakness in Amber’s defenses. They exploited the link between Amber Royal family members and the Primal Pattern of Amber. This allowed an inter-Shadow highway to span the Shadows from Amber to the Courts of Chaos, that was used for military and espionage travel. Eventually this developed into a full scale war between Amber and Chaos. Ultimately, Amber defeated Chaos, forcing them to sign a peace accord, as well as agree never to raise arms (except for a small self-defense force) and to allow Amber to station five legions within Thelbane (the ruling city of the Courts of Chaos). At the conclusion of the War, Oberon was dead, succeeded by his son Random as King of Amber. Many Amber Royals gained titles and the lands within Chaos. As ties between Amber and Chaos grew stronger following Merlin’s rise to the throne of Chaos, the terms of the accord were loosened, until eventually all of Amber’s troops departed and lands returned to Chaos sovereignty once more.

Founding the Shadow Republic

Random envisioned a new order that would promote peace and prosperity throughout the vastness of Shadowspace. His dream to unite all peoples under one banner for protection and economic stability has won him awards and praise in equal share to criticism and heartache as dissent within the Senate members who do not support many of the old laws favoring Amber standards of commerce and social philosophies.

Founding Sanctuary

The surviving members of Chaos fled deep into Shadow, far away from the rim of Republic Shadowspace. Using what remaining power they had, a place was made out of Shadow to replace what was lost. Sanctuary. It was a new home and a place for new dreams to take root. In response to the failings of the modern Chaos government, the new elite adopted ancient customs to serve as a reminder of who they once were and who they could be for the future. The establishment of the dual Courts: White and Black, would once more guide Chaos through this dark and desperate era until the scions of the Serpent could rise again to their place of glory in the Multiverse.

Battle of Kolvir

We stood at the top of Mount Kolvir, waiting for the order to move. My master, tall and shrouded in her robes, turned to me. "I feel a great disturbance."

I closed my eyes, settled myself, tried to find calm and clear the debris of the noise around me: men and women in battle suits walking around clinking in their armoured plates and checking their firearms. I sought the force sight within, letting it speak to me of what was to come. The visions were terrible. I tried to stay dispassionate, to continue the viewing, but I could sense the life surrounding me fading in the future. All the death. My eyes flew open and the sight fled from me. I knew with the certainty that the Force brings that many around us would not see the next dawn. "I sense death, Master. A great number of us will not return from here."

She turned to me, her face as stoic as ever. Only her pale eyes gave me a glimpse of her inner sorrow. She placed her hand upon my shoulder. "That is what I felt as well. But we are meant to be here, young Padawan. We all have a role to play. The Force has guided us to the place. Do not forget that."

My hand tingled and I forced it into a loose fist to stop myself from clutching my sabre as if it were my hold on life. "I will not, Master."

My thoughts grew scattered. I tried to keep from anticipating the battle. I knew the Wiermonken were coming. I knew I needed to restrain my anxiety: keep it at bay. That emotions only served to destroy my focus and lead me away from the Force. But my thoughts turned to home: to Diega and family. I had wanted to return home. I knew that my world, my parents, might face these Wiermonken and I was afraid for them. Which is of course why the Jedi had decided not to let me go. The rational part of me understands that Diega holds little that the Wiermonken would need or desire, but fear is rarely rational.

"Lissla," the sharp tone in Sunon's voice forced me to look up. Her features were rugged, but tinged with compassion. "You worry for your family. I understand your concern, but it will not help them, or you, or any of your comrades here. Keep yourself in the present. Clear your mind. They will be upon us soon."

I only nodded in reply, but let my arms hang loosely at my side once more. I let my thoughts dissipate. I breathed as I had been taught; to let all my concerns flow from me and inhale the calm and purpose that all nature has. I surveyed the troops arranged around us: soldiers, Jedi, Rebmans, even some of the Amber Royals, exclusive by nature, had made an appearance to protect their homeland. The shot of blasters to my left pulled my attention.

I saw the green light of my Master's lightsabre, even as I reached for my own. Then the Wiermonken were upon us. I had never seen such creatures before. There is still much debate as to whether they're even sentient. They are barbaric and no one really knows why they've chosen to attack. There are rumours, half-told stories, about them being around ages ago. That the immortals of the Amber family have fought their race before in much this same place.

The sight of the Wiermonken in the sky almost blotted out the sun. Their wings widespread as they swooped down upon us. I raised my sabre, purple blade extended and swung as I could. I let my reflexes, my years of training, guide me. I heard screams around me as their claws found purchase in the skin of the people around me. Their bows shot arrows, which for being ancient in technology, did a surprising amount of damage to those around me.

But I grew up on Diega and had seen what a bow, a javelin, a spear can do. I had thought I knew what to expect when the Wiermonken attacked with their primitive weapons, but I was wrong. Nothing can prepare you for battle: for the bloodshed and carnage of those dying around you. Worse, nothing had readied me to see my fellows on the field of battle become meat for those beasts.

But now was not the time to think. I reacted as a Weirmonken landed beside me, its blade, roughshod but deadly still, raised to strike. I parried his blow, but my lightsabre passed through the blade, a steel splinter flew from the tip and struck my shoulder. I was glad for the spells I had cast before hand which prevented the sliver of metal from embedding in my arm. All I was doing was making its sword sharper, and if it tried to stab me, the tip would certainly pierce my shield. As much as I wanted to keep my distance, for its power was the power of brutality, not that of a trained weapon and I knew the danger of unpredictability. All beings trained to fight follow similar forms, react in ways that are trained and honed to react as instinct. There was no such training in the Weirmonken, and I knew it. I couldn't stay at the edge of its blade, winnowing it down to something less useful. Not when ever shard that separated from the blade would fly off and perhaps hit those who were less prepared than I am for the blow. I moved forwards, rushing it. It slashed at my arm but my momentum carried me forward and I knocked its bicep with my shield arm and his slash went wild. I let my hand slide down its arm, grabbed onto its wrist and threw it over my shoulder, twirled and found its body at the edge of my lightsabre arc. They kept coming. I remember but bits and pieces from the ensuing battle. I swung my left arm out, extended to the fullest, to remove the threat of a hungry Wiermonken from the injured man beside me. I would have looked to see where Sunon was, but I could feel the power of her Force use beside me throughout the battle.

I had not killed before. I had been trained, honed even in the art of fighting and I am considered to be tremendously skilled for one of my age. The Jedi never told me this; they don't like us to become proud. But I've overhead some of their conversations when they think I'm not listening. Even some of the other students have mentioned comments that have been made in their presence. I was trained to fight; to protect life, not to take it. And no matter how bestial the Weirmonken appeared to be, they were life, and I was taking it. It didn't seem to matter as much to me then as it does now. There's very little time for thought in the midst of a battle.

The conflict ended only when all the Weirmonken lay dead on the field. I don't know why they attacked, and I suspect that many others have the same question. Were they just covering for Queen Moire's assassination? Was there something they were after? All I know is that there was a great mass of them. So many I had decided early on to concentrate on the ones before me rather than the numbers waiting in the wings to replace the ones I struck down.When it was over, the mountain was covered in blood: ours, theirs. Bodies littered the field. Brown, black, charcoal, even rust coloured fur of the Wiermonken strewn beside the armour clad soldiers. I was tired, and wish most to leave the field and push this battle aside, but Sunon insisted that we help the injured. "If we cannot deal with the results of our actions, Lissla, then we will not be prepared to act."

Sometimes at night, I still see the bodies, feel the force of that vision before the battle, and see the Weirmonken, infinite in number, swooping down from the sky.