Azakul heard of Golgozoth from his hellish realm and called to him allies that had fought against Golgozoth decades earlier and drawing to him the power of hell itself marched once more upon the land he had ruled so long. Five years had passed. Golgozoth had wasted no time in rebuilding the city of Dul-Raya. Now once again it lay at siege. Surrounded now by the hordes of hell commanded by a host of petty nobles and demon lordlings.  And Azakul took his closest servants and came by secret ways to the halls of Golgozoth and  thus began a dual that raged for 7 days and raged some more for what seemed like seven years while meanwhile outsize the city walls a terrible battle raged. The Arayans fled for it seemed like the very gates of hell itself had been thrown open and it was not clear where hell began and Araya ended.
 
Throughout the battle non would have noticed that the very fabric of space was buckling  under the weight and strain of bearing the hellish portal for so long and thus it was that as the two demon gods fought in the great hall there was a great cataclysm and a noise like thunder that drowned the sounds of warfare and with a final scream of thunder the land buckled and shifted in space and time under the strain and was ripped from the very planet and hurled into a nether plane between hell and the material world belonging to neither.
 
Demon and Arayan were trapped now upon the same land. The Gates of Hell were closed. None could escape. In terror and panic, the demon hordes scattered. Azakul disengaged and fled to the north to Dul-Ashbur to make a stronghold leaving Golgozoth to contemplate this new trick of fate in DuL-Raya. Thus came to be the Sundered Land.
 
Fifty years have since passed and time seems to have no meaning in the sundered land. It is now nothing like the fair place it once was. Few still have heart or memory to call it Araya and instead refer to it Dakraya meaning sundered or forsaken. It is a war ravaged place that belongs nowhere. Rift from the physical plane and bereft of anchor. Overrun with demons - the north ruled by Azakul and the south by Golgozoth: Badvibe. And the Arayans subjugated to slavery or worse. Some banded into nomadic wandering tribes scavenging to stay alive. None have hope. 
 
And the demon war rages on…

Fear begets demons and the fear of the Arayans was great. So through every prayer offered to their god of salvation they sent forth a piercing note of sheer terror. A terror sustained and nurtured in the fires of hell so that finally a demon was born and raised consciousness, stepping forth from the fires of hell to take charge of his own destiny. Thus Golgozoth was born. Sustained and spurred on by the fear of the Arayans which had given birth to him, he gathered a force and built a secret army and stronghold deep in the fires of hell and his reputation spread as a new force in hell and so mighty demon lords mustered force to destroy him. On the fire plains of the abyss they met the upstart demon lord in battle and crushed his demon hordes in a massive assault. The demon’s stronghold was lost. In desperation he looked to Araya as a means of salvation. He saw an opportunity to rescue victory from the jaws of defeat. Thus Golgozoth went to the Arayans as their god.
 
The Arayans were desperate. A hundred years of terror at the hands of a demon lord had ravaged the land. In the darkness they cried for a saviour, for their benevolent god Orios-dum to save them. And one night it seemed their plea was answered, for before them appeared a being of supernatural power and claimed to be their saviour. He won their allegiance. It was not difficult. Here was their god offering them hope. Desperation perhaps caused them to overlook the signs that all was perhaps not as it appeared. The god began to formalise a resistance which grew and had many successes aided they thought by the divine powers of the deity and finally the resistance mobilised a force that enabled them to take the third largest city Dul-Arkos and thus war was joined and the people flocked to the liberated city of Dul-Arkos swelling the ranks of the army. And though they were tired and famished there was a strength in them born of desperation and they won battle after battle finally assaulting and taking the capital in a mighty siege that lasted 3 years. Azakul was beaten and fled to hell. 
 
Throughout the siege the generals of Araya had commented on an uneasy feeling whenever they were in the presence of the god-commander. A feeling that increased more and more as the siege went on. And although no one would say anything directly to Orios-dum, the people were becoming increasingly fearful of him. He acquired the nickname badvibe after the feeling anyone felt near him and his tent was given a wide berth by all. Yet he was their god and had led them this far. They followed him into the city when the city walls were torn down. They followed him into the great hall as he sat victorious on the throne of Azakul.
 
And it was there that he asked for silence, stood and revealed his true nature.  His disguise gone, a demon of terrible visage stood before the generals of Araya. And he called to him his loyal followers from hell and his hellish hordes, swelling in number once more they flooded the city and he spoke forth his name, and the name Golgozoth slew generals and turned others mad. And those that escaped the great hall found they could not utter his name but referred to him by his nickname on the battle field. They called him Badvibe and the people of the land were broken and their misery reached new depths.

And in the darkness Azakul heard the rantings of the priests, heard the sweet screams of the first born offerings and knew it was time to claim what was his. And he came forth to Amus-Ra and was pleased with all that his servant had done in the last decade and a half in the name of Azakul. Where upon he ate the soul of Amus-Ra and the priests fled in terror and despair as it dawned on them just what they had unleashed.
 
Now Azakul sat on the throne of Amus-Ra and he brought back the priests to the great hall and sent them forth across the land as his voice and symbol of his authority and made the land his own. Now began a hundred years of agony as the demon lord made the land his own. Araya was turned into the very image of hell where demon hordes roamed freely across the once green pasturelands that were now little more than scorched earth.
 
And in the dead of night small bands of brave souls gathered and offered renewed prayer to their old benevelant gods, strengthened a thousand fold through terror and desperation so that ultimately their prayers were heard and answered. But sadly not by the gods they prayed to so fervently.

The golden age of Araya was hammered out of the remains of the Desudian Dynasty over a period of two hundred years. The Desudian Dynasty had been cruel. The nation was built upon slavery and fear. Priests chanted to dark gods in incense filled halls and sacrificed first born girls in grisly rituals. Little wonder then that superstition and a deep rooted fear plagued every Arayan and one did not have to look far to find evidence of it in Arayan society – charms to ward off evil spirits sold of every street corner, bedtime stories design to scare children into submission, temples in abundance to more benevolent gods offering protection. It took little effort therefore for one man – Amus-Ra to fuel the smouldering embers of fear.
 
Amus-Ra, a small time merchant from the south. Little more is known of his past other than that he was once offered for sale a strange box from the Desudian era. But surely it was more than a simple antique, for soon after Amus-Ra came to the capital Dul-Raya and thereafter started talking of visions he had seen of a being of great power called Azakul. Amus-Ra gathered a small following and thus the cult of Azakul was formed.
 
Amus-Ra had ambition. He wanted power. Azakul had promised him power and Amus-Ra seized his opportunity. It is not clear whether he ever questioned the motives of the being Azakul. Perhaps his soul was already lost ere the bargain was ever made. Deep into the night Amus-Ra and his acolytes toiled. Offering their souls to Azakul in return for power, delving deep into the arcane arts, uncovering there secrets best left forgotten. And by day they went about the capital, whispering the name of Azakul here and there, infiltrating this or that organisation, worminig their way into power.
 
Finally after years of subterfuge and dark magic they were ready and in an almost bloodless coupe they seized power overnight. The council guard had been bought off, council members slain by nameless terrors and the people of Araya awoke in an altogether different world. A decade of terror began. Secret meeting rooms of the demon god were abandoned in favour of new temples errected on the backs of the newly introduced slave class. Ritual sacrifice of the newborn became common place and fear ruled the land. Amus-Ra had become the first Priest-King of Araya.

It is dark in the sundered land. Even by day there is a shadow that lies over everything. The sky is never clear.

The Sundered Land! It was once called Araya.