Lady Shelest, the Cold maiden

Gifted with eternal life, former citizens of Orr form the core of the undead legions. Led by utter hatred towards their enemies, which brought much misery onto their motherland, which is now amplified by the gift of the unliving, they march forward to sink their swords in the flesh of any living being, be it surrendering or actively fighting with them

Remorseless, obedient, steadfast and most of all willing to serve Zhaitan, the unending lines of former humans are aided by virtually anything what lived and given in to the curse. It is not a rare sight to see reanimated beasts and hideous hand-crafted abominations to fight on Zhaitan's behalf

And he surely has his favorites, among which are liches and high liches, the prominent mages, warriors, archers, diplomats, priests and other valuable stratas, whose skills in warfare or peacemaking are exceptional. Other blessed ones are distant relatives and descendants of Zhaitan himself: Various vyverns, drakes, salamanders and lesser dragons are of elite caste

Aspect of death takes great joy and pride in his repulsive perception of perfected life: Nothing remains still in his domain, and every servant has a way to improve, not only mentally, but physically too. More bones are grown for them, more flesh is fused to theirs to allow growth. Even the new life can and will be formed under the supervision of a mage lich - if one deserves, one receives

Domain of Fire incarnate gives the most freedom for its dwellers. Primordus' way of life is contagious and his minions are as warmongering, combustive and impulsive as their master. Augmented with the living flames and crude metallic appendages, the fire kin is a rag-tag mob of insanely individualistic, agressive folks, only ridden with the heaviest infight possible

There is only one rule for them- the strong is always right. So becoming the strong is a goal for every single conscious being, be it a mere footman, band leader, master of the manufacture back in the city, all of them compete with each other. But make no mistake, for one moment the army is busy with beating itself, for another their adversaries are rained with the fire of cannons, arrows and stormed by endless tides of swords

As a great builder, Primordus takes much time to sculp more and more engine of war designs, resulting even in the living constructs, which have many forms. The dragon made sure to have proper steed for his mortal champions, so any of them has a choice between the living lesser drakes and artificial, mechanical draconids

The brand of thunder dragon consumes flesh and mind of mortals, with each pound of weight turned into crystal capacitor of electricity, one receives more and more abilities in electromagnetism. From gravity manipulation to conjurement of living lightnings, many possibilities both in destruction and creation are open with the brand of Kralkatorrik

Volatile by their nature, minions of this elder dragon know little of the labor as many of them eventually forget any craft they had, instead diving into the obtained powers. Not one city was built by their hands, and little to no acre of soil is being cultivated, yet many magnificent structures are shaped by electricity and magnetic power

Late stage mortals compare in power to the flashing constructs, which Kralkatorrik himself creates out of boredom by giving enough will and strength to yet another lightning, which is then locked into metallic and crystal shell

Seeming the only light, which shines in the surrounding chaos, stand the aelven courts of the centre. With a long history of warfare, first between themselves, and then with the human nations, this stoic race spares no effort in securing safety for the generations to come. Even in these dire times, the long ears use all of their aces, from the prodigious magica to well crafted weaponry to fend off all the agression, which is slowly surrounding the aelven realm

For a depraved refugee, who lost their home to any of the destructive powers, a loaf of bread and a warm, safe place behind the tall walls of ancient cities is a fruit worth of trying to obtain. But only in the aelven hands, grasping as a vine, one would understand - the meady promises were only enveloping the sharp thorns of their hearts

They remain mostly as they were for years and years ago, the only striking difference is a pledge of loyalty to the last ruinious power, albeit one of life and plantation. Fortified with the living roots, which taken form of the walls, well fed by the blossoming gardens and kept safe even in their dreams, which are carefully vowen by Mordremoth himself, the aelven kin is forsaken to carry dragon's will forever, or the remaining time of it