The following represents another excerpt from notes kept by a student of Pahelis the Lesser. The style has changed somewhat from the previous excerpt.

It is the nature of Man to grow in number and in power, and the ages of peace are ever the shortest of Ages and soon the differing races began to encounter one another in increasing frequency. Humanity, isolated and alone in their realm, and connected to the others only by the Ring, grew in prosperity and in wealth, and the Archon ruled with great wisdom and vigor. In the Waste, the evil races fended amongst each other as is their wont, and waxed and waned in power as dictated by the fortunes of war and conquest. In the eastern Mainlands, the other races grew content as their various gods strove to meet their needs and thereby increase their devotion. The non-human, non-evil races grew in longevity even as they decreased in birth rate. They began to look down on the Humans for their lesser abilities and shortened lifespan and their constant need to strive against nature and compete against one another. Soon many of the non-Humans became complacent, for their rivalries one with the other were mostly friendly in nature and did not strengthen themselves or each other, and it is the nature of Man to grow soft in the absence of hardship.

Thus it was particularly ill-timed when the hordes of the Waste, temporarily united under the visage of Baccalon (not directly of course, for Baccalon can no more visit the Primal Plane than any other god) and his cult of Hookedmen poured across the Axis Mountains, forded the River of Pain, and besieged the Elven realm of Arboria. The Elves were valiant but outnumbered, and poorly conditioned for war. A few Elves took to the forest to carry on the fight from stealthy vantage but many were slain, or captured into slavery, while the survivors fled into neighboring realms.

Emboldened and buttressed by success, the hordes of the Waste grew in number as word of the triumph spread throughout the Wasteland; attracting many by the tales of bloodletting and treasure. Long-traditional hatreds and rivalries between the differing races of the Waste were swept away by the heady scent of victory, and soon Goblin stood next to Orc next to Ogre next to Gnoll and so on, shoulder to shoulder, and the horde spilled forth from Arboria as does water from a falling barrel.

Alarmed, the many realms and races of Dwarf and Elf and Halfling and Gnome and all the others, made their plans for defense, yet it was clear that the Wastern Horde would prevail without some other intervention. Many were the impassioned pleas made from worshipper to god, but without the ability to intervene directly, the deities of the non-humans could do little but provide reassurance and advise.

With no alternative, emissaries were gathered and dispatched to the land of the Humans. Soon the Archon was besieged by non-Human ambassadors and enriched even further by many of their offerings. Seeing that the alternative was a flood of non-Human refugees that would soon begin to cover the Ring of Dunamis with their numbers, the Archon chose to set aside the isolationism that had helped make Alannis strong and wealthy, and together with emissaries of all the non-Human realms, created the Pact of Stone that would stand against the Waste.

And so began the Second Age of Man, sometimes called the Age of Humans. It did not seem that such an age would arise from these circumstances and yet, as we all know, this is exactly what occurred. The Archon raised an army of massive proportions, such that some have said the Army of Alannis required took a full month for its columns to pass by even when marching nonstop. Buttressed by the non-human legions of the Pact of Stone, the Archon assailed the forces of the Waste and drove them back, in battle after battle throughout the Mainlands, and in time, pushing them back across the Wailing Bridge, built by the cultists of Santara and Baccalon to allow passage over the River of Pain.

Sentiment existed for an immediate strike into the Waste, perhaps even to Mount Boltar itself; but the Archon was unmoved by these ideas. The cost of the war was exceeding high, and the passage from Alannis to the Wailing Bridge was largely paved with Human bones and flesh. It was time to consolidate relationships between the new allies and to enjoy the peace that had been so hard-wrought.

And yet there would be no peace, for the Wailing Bridge was constructed of cunning magics that caused it to reappear whole in one night no matter the amount of effort expended to demolish it. And there are other ways to traverse from Waste to Mainland, not in so great numbers but yet enough to forestall calm.

The victorious Army of Stone, once a force of mobility and swiftness, became instead a static group of defenders and bulwarks and the casualties mounted. More and more Humans traveled the Ring, as reinforcements or as logistical support of the Archon's armies. Traversing the Ring is hazardous, as it is a journey of more than 150 miles where there is no game but the occasional bird and no water but the occasional rainfall. Re-supply stations were built on the Ring, and Keeps to fortify them, and a new Human steading took shape at the Mainland end of the Ring.

And so passed the decades. The Archon took a consort, Mikhail, the loveliest of the Sylvan elves. The number of Humans on the Mainland continued to grow while non-human refugees from the conflict often found their way over the Ring to Alannis. At first, both Humans and non-humans benefited from this, as they encountered many new ideas and ways of being, and the arts and sciences underwent a renaissance while relations between the many races of the Pact of Stone were made even stronger.

Yet ever the gnawing wound that was the Wailing Bridge, and the Waste behind it, continued to devour the lives of those sent to defend against it. And Humanity became more and more numerous, for if one hundred Humans fall in battle, in 20 years there will be 110 to replace them, while if ten Elves fall, in twenty years there will be none to take their place.

In time, the non-human members of the alliance became alarmed at the continuing drain, and as the immediacy of the threat from the Waste waned, so too did the ardor for maintaining the Alliance amongst some of the realms. The Archon, and those non-human allies who remained steadfast (often those who bordered the Waste), found themselves bearing a disproportionately greater amount of the burden of the continuing defense. The races of the Mainlands became divided into two camps as those who remained loyal to the Pact of Stone became more and more bitter towards those who shirked their duties.

Meanwhile, generations passed amongst Humanity, and the burdens of maintaining such a large standing army began to take their toll. Human society began to gradually change, becoming more and more rigid and militaristic. Many were the bright and brave who took up arms and went West never to return. High was the toll each year, of harvester and guild and craftsman, in order to support the troops. What was once a tide of volunteers gradually became replaced with conscripts: press gangs grew more and more numerous, and an ever-increasing tide of tax collectors were needed to insure compliance with the increasingly arduous needs of the Archon's host.

It is said that the Darkon first cast his shadow over the Archon during this period, as it became clear that the threat of the Waste could not be defeated by castles and garrisons alone. Perhaps he despaired at the weakness and fickle nature of his allies. Perhaps he determined that Humanity could not be truly safe while the return of the Wastern Horde remained as a possibility.

Regardless of speculation, it is clear is that the Archon's plans began to turn in new directions. Late in the second century after the Victory of Stone, a new marshalling of forces was commenced. Sorties were made over the Wailing Bridge, maps drawn, intelligence gathered. A call went out to all the Allies of Stone, asking for troops to raise a new host. But many of the Allies did not answer the call, and the heart of the Archon hardened at their lack of fealty to their sworn oath. Yet many did answer, and of course Alannis itself contributed a great number of swords to the cause, many of whom were conscripts, but even so the host grew to nearly the vastness of the original Pact of Stone.

The offensive campaign was launched with high expectation. The crueler Men of the Waste had again fallen into inter-racial warfare and strife, and were individually no match for the combined might of the Archon and his Allies. Casualties were high, for the Waste is a hard land and full of dangers beyond those of Kobold sling and Drow sword, but progress was steady. More and more of the Waste fell under the domain of the Archon, but the vanquished lands were even more difficult to control than they had been to conquer.

A bitter lesson was learned when it became clear that each time an Orc clan was destroyed, it only created a vacuum that would inevitably be filled by yet another clan. And the cruel races of Man exist in great variety and number beyond counting. The Archon (or perhaps it was the Darkon, for his imprint is surely on many of the actions of this time) initiated a new tactic: offering amnesty to Wastern peoples that would agree to swear Fealty to the Archon and the Pact of Stone. Many agreed, for the alternative was death and defeat, and some of the more stalwart peoples of the Wastern Campaign were in this manner enlisted. In this fashion were the Diamondback Lizardmen first found to be loyal and true and of great valor in combat, and so it can be said also of the Wolflings, and a few of the other Turned Peoples who took the Oath.

And so the Army of the East took on an unexpected look as Hobgoblin took up spear and shield next to Human and Halfling and Mudman and all faced the common enemy. A small flood of displaced peoples who were once enemies flowed back towards the East and the Mainland, and occasionally, Alannis.

But many of the Turned Peoples were untrue to the Oath, and the effectiveness of the Army was hindered. Worse, some of the Turned Peoples returned to their former ways after they had journeyed deep within the Mainland, causing great strife amongst the non-human realms and further sapping the Pact of the ability to call up reinforcements.

Of necessity, the forces of the East found themselves again building castles and bulwarks, and once more the Army became a static force, but this time one of occupation as well as one of defense. During the first year of the campaign, the Darkon's Army progressed 300 miles towards Mount Boltar. In the second year, the progress was only 30 miles. And the casualties continued to mount.

More calls were made for more soldiers. And more and more often, the calls went unanswered. And what still remained of the Archon hardened further, and his despair deepened, and his hatred of the West began to rule him. And then the Archon dissipated entirely as the merciless Darkon emerged, springing whole from the same mind and body that had once ruled Humanity with such compassion and wisdom.

Many orders were dispatched back towards Alannis as the unpitying efficiency of the Darkon girded the entire race of Humans for war. Villages and entire cities were displaced, land seized and put to new uses, and many Humans were forcibly redirected into the mines or the smithies or armies.

Dissatisfied with the inability to move large numbers of people and goods over the Ring of Dunamis, the Darkon called his remaining Pact allies into council and demanded that the lands around the Mainland end of the Ring be given to Humanity to use as a vast staging and resupply area. Farmland would be needed to feed this new area, and woodlands to supply building materials, and ports from which to harvest the sea.

Many of the remaining Pact allies balked at this demand, but most had grown fearful of the Darkon and the enormous Human army he commanded. And so the Darkon was granted his land, and the region was deeded to the Humans over the objections of those that had lived there before. The Darkon named the new region Mikhail, in honor of his Consort, and set her as its ruler, although it is clear that the Darkon himself continued to issue the laws of Mikhail, and perhaps the Elven Mikhail was more prisoner than ruler.

And so a large number of Mudmen and Centaurs and other races fell under Human domain, but the Darkon saw them not as charges of his responsibility, but rather as arms and legs and strong backs that could assist in the war effort. Many were pressed into service building and fortifying the new realm, while others were forcibly removed from the land and given to the mines and guilds of Alannis.

By the end of the fifteenth year of the Wastern campaign, the army had progressed nearly 500 miles towards Mount Boltar; but few of those who had begun the campaign remained. Humanity had hardened itself into a continent-spanning war machine, entirely focused on one goal and with no heed to the cost. There remained few of the original Pact Allies to stand with Humanity, together with the few Turned Peoples that had justified the faith that the Archon had vested in them.

And still the Darkon remained unsatisfied and turned again to the non-human Men of the Mainland for help in his obsessive quest to rid Erth of the Waste. But the non-humans failed him again, and he railed at their disloyalty. The Archon had learned that the Wastern peoples could be turned one against the other, and that words alone could sometimes win battles; and so the Darkon built on these lessons, and turned them against the realms of his former allies. And when words and manipulation failed, there was always fear, and the threat of force. The Darkon was as efficient at political manipulation as he was at all else, and soon there were again troops of many races in the Eastern Army.

But even threats of force could not coerce all. In the 33rd year of the campaign, the Arborian Elves, still feeling the effects of the original invasion of the Wastern Horder and decimated further by the Darkon's campaigns, refused to provide their annual troop levy. In a show of resistance, they went so far as to close their borders to the Humans, thus barring the way to the Wailing Bridge and cutting off supply routes from Alannis. Enraged, the Darkon turned on his former ally and once again the Wailing Bridge was crossed in anger by a Host from the Waste, but this time the host was Human, and if anything, even more pitiless and vicious than the Horde of 300 years ago.

Many of the non-human realms were horrified by the carnage of the Arborian Conflict (as the Humans named it, although the Arborian Elves called it Bloodnight and to this day tell the story to their children to scare them when they misbehave) and began to raise armies to protect themselves from the Human threat. This was a particularly dark time for Mudmen and Halfling, for both were seen as Human by the other races but as non-human by the Darkon.

In particular, the Dracenian dwarves remained bitter over the loss of their mines in the land now known as Mikhail. Further angered by the callous disregard for non-Human life shown by the Darkon's force, they gathered allies from among the Dracenian gnomes and attempted to retake their mines by force. Other non-human Men quickly rallied to the side of the dwarves, for Humanity had become a heavy yoke over them all, and at last a great army, consisting of most of the remaining Mainland strength, marched against Mikhail and the fortress at the foot of the Ring.

Many are the tales told of the siege of Mikhail, and of the bravery of its defenders as it sought to hold out for the two weeks necessary to get word across the Ring and for help to arrive. The Diamondback Lizardmen in particular distinguished themselves greatly during the siege, as they followed orders without question and fought with great intelligence and puissance. There is no question that the fortress, and perhaps the Ring itself, would have fallen without their stalwart defense against the Dwarven siege engines and Gnomic steam artillery. But in the end the Ringston garrison arrived over the Ring in time to find the Mikhail fortress still standing and still in Human hands. The Ringston garrison was only the first wave of reinforcements, more arrived over the Ring every day, and a month later the Darkon himself arrived with much of his army and the field was reddened by the blood of the attacking non-humans.

In reward for their valor, the Darkon set Ouray, Warchief of the Diamondbacks, as his second-in-command, and hand picked other Lizardmen to serve as his personal bodyguard. But even the ever-loyal Ouray grew concerned over the state of his liege, for if there had been any trace of the Archon remaining, it was swept away during the siege of Mikhail and only the Darkon remained. Where had once been justice and understanding, there remained only the hardened steel of a fanatical warlord.

The Human empire now stretched from the Eastern edge of Alannis, across hundreds of miles to the Ring in the west, hundreds more miles both north and south encompassing nearly all of the Mainland, and several hundred miles deep into the Waste. However the empire was as small in soul as it was large in area, for the Darkon brooked neither weakness nor pity amongst himself or in any of his subjects. The conquered non-humans were ruled by fear and by force of arms, oppressed into servitude at first, and slavery towards the end, and many took to hiding.

Evil covered the world, in the Waste of course but also throughout the globe, for the Human Empire had indeed become utterly evil, in its subjugation of all and its ruler's single-minded determination to destroy the Waste at whatever the cost.

Once again, Man hid in small places while fury walked the Erth. But Humanity was numerous and their works covered the planet, but unlike the First Age of Man, in this Age the works of Man were fortresses and keeps and prisons and slave pens.

And the will of Dunamis became aroused. Was this then, to be the great Answer sought all these centuries? Was Evil the strongest Primal Force? Was there really a Good or Law or Chaos at all? Or were they mere reflections of Evil?