Kezmon Isle and the Ashrim Fallacy
This piece was initially presented to the Order of Lorekeepers as a theory linking two historically similar disasters: the sinking of Kezmon Isle and the destruction of Ta'Ashrim at the hands of the Faendryl.

Introduction

The incidents at Ta'Ashrim and Kezmon Isle are historical gems with vastly different facets, but they yield a number of similarities to careful scrutiny. The exact circumstances and timelines of both disasters are widely unknown. Faendryl sorcery holds guilt for the former, while most information on the latter's causes are based on mystical speculation rather than any concrete fact. Further difficulty arises in both situations when trying to judge the full scope and course of the destruction. This problem may be attributed to a cavernous gap in logical Elanthian thought with regard to obliterative disasters, both natural and not: the Ashrim fallacy inexorably binds these two disparate events.

The "Ashrim fallacy" is a term that I, Tierus Morvaenus, have coined for the purposes of this piece. That no other historian, sage or amateur, has managed to cobble together words to describe this problem is a hallmark of its existence. The Ashrim fallacy is one of sloppiness and apathy.

The Ashrim fallacy is the widely held belief - nay, infective dogma - that decimating a culture by destroying its main body is equivalent somehow to elimination of that culture as a whole. This mammoth error in judgment does not take into account satellite cultures and assumes a zero survival rate at the epicenter of the disaster. Only through use of this fallacy has history from Ta'Ashrim, Kezmon Isle, Old Icemule, and countless other ruined civilizations been allowed to dwindle into hazy references and colorless suppositions. The criminal horror of the Ashrim fallacy is that it is most commonly perpetrated by those charged with history's preservation.

To illustrate the scope of the Ashrim fallacy, we must examine its origination and application. This paper will briefly outline, as per its titular heading, the situations of Ta'Ashrim and Kezmon Isle. There are probably occurrences of the Ashrim fallacy that predate its namesake, but a lack of extant and properly-recorded history makes it impossible to know for certain.

The Destruction of Ta'Ashrim

History tells us of Ta'Ashrim as a bustling insular economy, almost as foreign to the Elven Empire as were the Faendryl after their Banishment. The difference between the two cultures was that the Ashrim kept bodily away from the other Noble Houses of the Empire by choice. Geographically, the Ashrim Islands lie only a moderate trip to the southeast of Ta'Nalfein. It is said, by way of explaining lack of Ashrim ties to the remainder of the Empire, that they were a people unconcerned with anything but the sea. They were bred to sail. Even their great gift for elemental magic promoted their mastery of the seas.

That the Ashrim were distanced from the roiling politics of the rest of the Empire was reason enough for the post-Banishment Faendryl to want them as allies. House Faendryl had fallen since the exile to Rhoska-Tor. Though their magics had grown strong with the influence of the nearby mana flows, their political position was a precarious one. Marriage of Chesylcha Sukari Faendryl to Prince Deiran Ashrim must have seemed prudent to the Faendryl. Such a consorting would solidify the bonds between the Faendryl and their fairer-skinned cousins, but the dark elves would not need be as wary of political manipulation or trickery from the groom's house after the marriage.

All of the plans for peace were made in vain. The debacle surrounding the marriage of Chesylcha and Deiran was to become the final error of the Faendryl people as an Elven House. In 161 Before the Modern Era, a Nalfein assassin slew Chesylcha while she rode the sea to her new home. Faendryl suspicion immediately pointed to the Ashrim, though it is just as possible that a member of the Faendryl War Party ordered the assassination in expectation of what was yet to come: the destruction of House Ta'Ashrim. Four years later, catastrophe would strike Ashrim. As a note, it is highly unlikely that the Nalfein themselves masterminded the assassination. The individual assassin's motivations are unclear. They could gain little of obvious value from a war so near to their capital.

Clarity in the Ashrim Holocaust begins to falter here. Some historical tomes simply say "Then House Ashrim was destroyed," as if to speak of their culture were akin to performing a jig atop a religious figure's grave. Most include only a cursory mention of the destruction at all, focusing more on Chesylcha's end as a note of tragedy.

Among all the sources this writer has researched, only "The Siege of Ta'Ashrim," recorded originally by Mage-Captain Ehrit alYari Faendryl and later translated from the original Faendryl by Mnar Akurion, makes mention of prominent Ashrim figures and Faendryl tactical movements. No disrespect is intended to the honored transcriber when it is suggested that this account not be taken as adamant truth. To find a sole complete log of a cataclysmic occurrence where not a trace of other information exists is the stuff of faerie tales or excellent fortune. We shall, for the purposes of this text, assume that "The Siege of Ta'Ashrim" represents a valid historical opinion on the matter.

What is concretely known of the battle is that Faendryl losses were horrendous. They had not the Ashrim talent for naval warfare. The Ashrim could outmaneuver the Faendryl and were generally experienced sailors. They brought the full measure of their talent to bear against the Faendryl, and destroyed countless galleons. Those ships that did successfully run the Ashrim gauntlet were laden with magic users enough to realize the Faendryl goal of Ashrim elimination.

Akurion's work and hearsay from other, secondary or tertiary sources tell that the obliteration of Ta'Ashrim was accomplished in a single strike. Some exaggerate or presume by saying that a single battle was all that was required, but Faendryl efficiency and contemporary knowledge of spell ranges suggests that the dark elves did their work systematically. Most probably, they independently assaulted each and every settlement on the Ashrim mother island quickly and to massive effect.

What we are expected to believe, as per the Ashrim fallacy, is that there were no Ashrim survivors, or that they were so few in number as to be historically irrelevant. This makes little sense. The Ashrim were a seafaring people, engaging heavily in trade and oceanic exploration. The probability of scattered survivors, even whole families or crews, is astoundingly high to be so easily dismissed. This dismissal is evident: to this day, those claiming to be Ashrim are commonly mocked in higher circles, although theirs is still considered to be a name of great honor.

Kezmon Isle, the Rise and Fall

The riches and stunning culture of Kezmon Isle are lost to all save the most avid historians. Most of the common populace holds no knowledge of the island that used to be the cultural and trade center of Western Elanthia.

Before its destruction, Kezmon Isle was among the eldest of human settlements in the boundaries of the Turamzzyrian Empire. It is possible, though by no means proven, that the independent city of Kai Toka - the Ducal Seat of Kezmon - actually predated ancient Tamzyrr as an organized human stronghold. The fall of the Kannalan Empire in 3961 of the Modern Era directly contributed to the rise of three cities as major centers of human population: Elstreth, Tamzyrr, and Kai Toka. Only three other local cities managed to survive the collapse of the Empire. Toullaire, Kedshold and Gor'nustre remained weak, bound to the terms of a feeble internal trading alliance.

Kezmon's insular status combined with its proximity to a number of other fledgling ports along the Turamzzyrian Coast to make it the seat of human culture. To promote protection from the scattered terrors that face all independent city-states, Tamzyrr offered to head a defense trading alliance with Kai Toka and Elstreth in 4222. All three cities reaped the benefits of safer trade routes, but Tamzyrr gained most of all. The terms of the agreement bound all trade from Kezmon and Elstreth to Tamzyrr before it could be processed into the outside world. While successful, this alliance was never truly tested by an armed conflict.

54 years later, Kezmon's weakness as an island was revealed. Privateers began infestation of the Turamzzyrian waters, drawn by the heavy shipping of the region. Tamzyrr offered its governance to Kezmon, in exchange for lending the island armed support against these pirates. At Kezmon's refusal, the number of assaults on their ships escalated alarmingly. Deprived of trade, the people of Kezmon began to starve. Faced with a choice between slow death or external rule, Lord Gursten of Kai Toka surrendered his sovereignty over the Kezmonian people. He was soon after given the title of Imperial Duke of Kezmon.

Under Tamzyrrian rule, Kezmon flourished. The only major blow to its people as a result of outside rule would come in 4310, when Emperor Chaston's Edict decimated the rights of its elven population. Many elves left the isle rather than face persecution for their blood. They were led by the archmage Inar'ru, who had previously dwelled for most of his life as a sage in Kai Toka. He prophesied the destruction of Kezmon by a great natural disaster, but the shadow of this so-called curse was soon forgotten.

In the centuries to follow, Kezmon's shipwrights became known as the greatest in the Western world. Some said that they might have rivaled the Ashrim at their height. Culture was drawn to the island nation, and soon the Kezmon became known for its opera, painting, and poetry as much as for its native people's seaworthiness. Trade was heavily taxed, but not so much as in many cities of the empire. This and the island's strategic position - almost equidistant from Fairport, River's Rest, Tamzyrr, and Ubl - turned it into a nexus of Turamzzyrian life that rivaled Tamzyrr.

Kezmon was gladly acknowledged as the jewel of the Empire, and was jealously guarded by Emperors and Empresses as a rule. When a small force of Krolvin buccaneers assaulted the towns of Kai Dusque, Kai Morshe, Kai Narshe, and Kai Sinze in 4790, a massive armada from the imperial navy was raised to obliterate them.

As an odd segue, it should be mentioned that Kezmonian forces also faced the Faendryl in battle, and narrowly avoided suffering the same fate as the Ashrim. The Third Elven War, in 4841 of the Modern Era, began in retaliation for a Turamzzyrian attempt to attack New Ta'Faendryl. Duke Nyrmont of Kezmon led several battles on the mainland against the Faendryl when Imperial Eastern Sentinel Graegor Happersett was slain, but was forced to retreat from the power of demonic magic. Sir Hughrond, the Golden Knight of Kezmon Isle, was slain in this confrontation.

Perhaps it is a sign of a drop in imperial favor for the Kezmonians that none of the isle's nobility - most noticeably, Nyrmont - were allowed to play a major part in imperial politics or life from the end of the battle to the mysterious disappearance of Kezmon in 4873.

No information at all exists on the destruction of Kezmon, though three main theories hold strong among speculators.

The first is that Kezmon sunk into the sea. As a volcanic island, this is entirely possible. Shiftings within the heart of the central volcano could easily have caused such a disaster. The difficulty with this theory is that Kezmon was an unusually large body of land. The collapse of its volcanic foundation might have decimated the island, but total obliteration is unlikely. There are some records of a storm near Kezmon on the night of its destruction. This could suggest a volcanic cloud. A storm alone could not destroy the entire island permanently.

Ever-popular is the supposition that the archmage Inar'ru managed to cast the entire island into the sea, making good on his curse during the Chastonian exodus several centuries before. Instead of provoking polite laughter, this theory is far too frequently accepted as truth. It should be needless to say that a mage powerful enough to sink an island into the ocean would have had no reason to flee from Chaston's Edict. Even the Faendryl required multiple mages near the site of intended destruction to accomplish a feat of similar scale. Despite the vacuum of fact, this is one theory that should not be allowed to stand.

Finally, there is the improbable suggestion that Kezmon was the victim of another natural disaster or an Arkati's wrath. There have been documented occurrences in which angering the Arkati has led to death on a wide scale. Judging from some of Duke Nyrmont's later letters to Tamzyrr, which he boldly signed "Lord of the Sea," there remains the slim possibility that a vengeful Charl decided to do away with the Kezmonians entirely. Such arrogance from a mortal is rarely tolerated by the Arkati. This is yet another flimsy theory built on sparse evidence.

The difficulty with Kezmon's situation is that there are no available records of the isle's destruction. This is ludicrous, but certainly lends to application of the Ashrim fallacy. Again, we have a culture strongly centered on the sea. That every Kezmonian then living could have been on Kezmon at the time of the island's destruction is verging on impossible. Furthermore, no attempts ever were made to question captains of ships that were near the port at the time of the island's destruction. Not a single account was ever distributed, first- or second-hand, regarding the facts of Kezmon's end. It is unlikely now that one ever will be, unless a survivor of the destruction was elven.

One possibility remains: if the archmage Inar'ru still lives, his information on the Prophecy - or, if he is truly responsible, the Curse - of Kezmon would prove invaluable to discovering the truth.

In Conclusion

The Ashrim fallacy is exceptionally worrisome in a profession based around the preservation and discovery of historical truth. Furthermore, it lends itself to the old adage: "Time is a wheel, and we are doomed to many times see the same spoke before the end of our journey." Unless disasters like these are chronicled, we are doomed to unawareness when they repeat themselves. Who knows when the heralding signs of the disaster that struck Old Icemule could be shown to - and missed by - the younger town? What if Teras began to experience the Kezmon disaster first-hand? Though the Ashrim fallacy's namesake tragedy was not a natural disaster, properly maintained accounts of the Ashrim battle could have proved invaluable to generals facing similar circumstances.

The primary reason for paying heed to and not falling to the Ashrim fallacy is that history is so easily lost. The way into darkness need not be eased by careless historians.

The Ashrim fallacy should be combated wherever possible. In preparation for this, one should recall succinctly what it is. One might forage through this text in order to recount the full definition, but for ease of reference, the fallacy can be defined as: "The failure of proper historical method when gathering information on decimating disasters, natural and unnatural. This includes discounting or simply not pursuing survivor possibilities, eyewitness claims, and related facts. Perpetuating the fallacy eventually leads to a lack of any pertinent information other than supposition around a disastrous event." Combating this grave error is the duty of every historian. It is not a job that ought to be taken lightly.


The World Lore Archive awaits.