ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF THE CULT OF HELLFYRE

[ Librarian's note: This book is an excerpt from HISTORY OF
THE REALMS, a not-yet-finished work. ~ K.D.E. ]

"...For seven centuries, the inhabitants of these
young Realms enjoyed what has become known as the Age of Light.
With the close of the elven wars, the drow had retreated into the earth,
where they would remain hidden for many years. Upon the surface,
new alliances were formed between the races of good, as even dwarf
and elf formed bonds of friendship.
It was during this era of prosperity and peace that the first
Council was formed; a brotherhood of Paladins, Archmages, and
Holy men, who roamed the land, assuring the safety of all peoples.
The goblins, orcs, and other giant-kin were driven back into
their caves, and it was said that a virgin could walk alone through
the Realms without fear for her safety.
The Age of Light was a long and glorious period of these
Realms' history, but, as all ages do, it came abruptly to an end.

The drow, having established themselves in the wild Underdark,
re-emerged, their magic enhanced by the dark radiations of the
world beneath our own. With them came the duergar, evil kin of
the dwarven peoples, in armies so mighty that the earth itself
shook with fear. The city of Bryndhol, ancient seat of power, was
sacked within a fortnight, and across the land, elves, dwarves, and
humans banded together in a desperate hope for survival.
Little is known of the age which followed, called by some
the Age of Darkness. Few kept records of any kind, and even the ruins
of the Realms' mightiest cities have disappeared over time.
One name comes down through the ages however, the name of a
dark elf unmatched in power or ambition. His name was K'ycer Hellfyre.
A High Priest and Necromancer of Cyrcia, indeed the FIRST male
ever allowed into that goddess' dread clergy, K'ycer was a force
to make worlds tremble. For four hundred years, his
armies besieged the Realms. The elves of Semyrlin were all but
eradicated, the dwarves in Duncamber were forced to collapse the
tunnels leading into their city in order to escape destruction.
Good seemed a forgotten concept, and evil's victory complete.
It was then that the great Council re-emerged, its membership

composed of all good races, from elven archmages to human paladins,
good's last hope of victory.
The armies met, and evil was thrown down from its seat of power,
though the cost was incalculable for each force. The race of duergars
was almost completely destroyed, their lack of magical prowess a
decided weakness which the enemy archmages capitalized upon.
It is said that the skies rained blood for a year afterwards, and that"
the great desert which is now Kycrin was a lush forest before
the month-long battle.
When the skies cleared, many of the drow had retreated into
their dark cities, claiming that Cyrcia no longer favored the war.
K'ycer Hellfyre and a few others were all that remained of evil's
nucleus. The Council too was irrevocably shattered; of the
more than one hundred powerful mages and lords that had begun,
less than twenty survived. Aching and exhausted, they nevertheless
took up their staves and their weapons, gathered their retainers,
and set off after K'ycer, such was their hatred and fear of him.
Into the Underdark they came, the mightiest of the Realms'
paladins, followed by legions of warriors and powerful archmages.
And there, in a crumbling tunnel of broken stone, K'ycer turned

and met them in battle. He was at the height of his ability, and
Cyrcia was with him, as he tore ranks of holy warriors apart with
his spells, and dominated mage after mage. His followers fell,
one by one, but the great Lord Hellfyre shrugged off lightning
bolts and sword wounds with equal disdain.
There the battle might have ended, with evil once more
victorious, but a holy Priest of Timion called upon his God,
in an act of sacrifice beyond any this Realm has seen.
His physical shell became a living conduit for Timion's power,
and a hammer of light formed in his hands. As the life faded
from his body, he hurled that great hammer at the
drow Priest, and struck him to the ground.
All was still. The war cries of battling
enemies had ceased, to be replaced by the moans of the dying.
The Timion Priest lay where he'd fallen, his body spent
by the strength of his prayers. For the space of an hour, nothing
moved.
Then a small shudder ran through the body of K'ycer Hellfyre.
Slowly, and with great pain, the drow crawled towards the north
wall of the cavern. Before him, the rock split wide, and he tumbled into a
hidden

complex. Upon the deep carpet, the great drow offered a final prayer
up to Cyrcia, forming the words of a spell through trembling
lips. 'My Queen', said the dying drow, 'Defend thy Servant.'
And then, he died.
Thus ended the Age of Darkness, and began the Age that is our own.
K'ycer Hellfyre and his dark works have been forgotten by the mortals
who walk these Realms, all except a chosen few, who have come to
worship in the chamber of his death. Favored by Cyrcia, each
strives to complete K'ycer's grim vision. This is no group of
weakling fools, but the chosen succesors to the drow's
legacy of pain and violence. This is the Cult of Hellfyre.
Let the Realms beware..."
[end excerpt]