Age Of Wonders 3 Wiki
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Keeper Campaign: Halflings-Dwarves-Elves

AoW1 Campaign Info


A storm rages. Elwyn is dead. Of the Keepers, I heed the call to bring allies to Julia within the Valley of Wonders. Though all the forces of Storm combine, our cause is right, so I shall weather it. I am here; I am ready.

Keepers Campaign 1-1

Keepers Campaign 1-2

Part 1: Halflings

Keepers Campaign 1-3

Keepers Campaign 1-4

Keepers Campaign 1-5

Branch A:

Keepers Campaign 2-1a

Keepers Campaign 2a-2

Branch B:

Keepers Campaign 2-1b

Keepers Campaign 2-2

Branches rejoin.

Keepers Campaign 3-1

Keepers Campaign 3-2

Keepers Campaign 3-3

Keepers Campaign 3-4

Here the player can choose between Dwarves and Lizardmen. The canonical choice is Dwarves, choosing the Lizardmen branches into the Keeper Renegade Campaign.

Part 2: Dwarves

Keeper Campaign 4-1

Keeper Campaign 4-2

Keeper Campaign 4-3

Keepers Campaign 5-1

Keepers Campaign 5-2

Keepers Campaign 6-1

Keepers Campaign 6-2

Keepers Campaign 7-1

Keepers Campaign 7-2

Keepers 7-3

Keepers 7-4

Keepers 7-5

Keepers Campaign 7-6

Here the player can choose between Elves and High Men. The canonical choice is Elves, choosing the High Men switches to the corresponding branch of the Keeper Renegade Campaign.

Part 3: Elves

Keepers Campaign 8-1

Keepers Campaign 8-2

Keepers Campaign 8-3

Keepers Campaign 8-4

Keepers Campaign 9-1

Keepers Campaign 9-2

Keepers Campaign 9-3

Keepers 10-1

Keepers 10-2

Keepers 10-3

Keepers Campaign 11-1

Keepers Campaign 11-2


The final map is identical in all branches. Depending on the races chosen during the game, the player will play as either the Keepers, the High Men, the Cult of the Storm or the Undead. The player starts with a city of all races played. The Humans are a fifth faction, always played by the AI, and is allied to the High Men.

Keepers Campaign Finale-1

Keepers Campaign Finale-2

Keepers Campaign Finale-3

Plain text transcript

Chosen of the Keepers, I heed a call of prophecy, writing a testament of this time of turmoil. Marked by a new star over the Valley of Wonders and sealed by treachery, this time of change portends a new era, an Age of Wonders. I am called upon to recruit an army for Elwyn's daughter, Julia, who fights for the Keepers from the Valley of Wonders. Meandor's children, the Cult of Storms, threw Aldor into chaos, by killing Queen Elwyn. Misled, fixated on revenge, divided and angry, the Elves of Aldor are vulnerable when unity is most needed.

Meanwhile, the Cult gathers dark forces intent upon butchering all Humans. As a Keeper, I oppose the massacre of any life, and seek a gentler way with the enigmatic young race. The cost of peace is hefty. Many Elves spurn Humankind, remembering the destruction of their first home, the Elven Court of Inioch in the Valley of Wonders. Still, Julia believes that Humanity deserves mercy from its ancestral sins. And should the Cult prevail, then what? Do savage tyrants and bloody armies disband and return to goodwill? For the peace of all, we fight.

- - - Halflings

The gathering Goblins invaded Flowershire, home of the Halflings. Not normally a fighting people, the Halflings are ironically our most loyal allies. They believe in the Keepers cause and see little value in gold, fighting instead for right and the chance to inspire heroic ballads. I am told there may be forces other than Halfling lurking near, seeking revenge against the Goblins. If I can find these renegades, surely they will help in my fight against the Cult. If the Halflings are to keep this haven, I must see that no Goblin remains in this serene vale. About the halflings: Halflings are peaceful beings, touched by the faerie-folk, filled with curious notions. They have survived for centuries on the mere fact that most races ignore them. They value gold only if it can be used for good. Halflings are inexpensive to hire, fighting for noble causes and the chance at making legends. Nimble and quick, they make capable Swordmen. Though physically weak, they Parry attacks naturally. With arms too short for bows, they are deadly with a sling and stones. Their smallest Hamlets can produce wall-crushing Battering Rams. Halflings also employ Ponyriders, more as scouts than cavalry.

The Halflings will now have sanctuary for their women and children, should battle grow fierce. The Halflings have proven fine allies. Yet, even as the last Goblin fell and cheers rang out, scouts brought news of a greater threat to halflingkind. The United Cities are imperiled. Meandor spares no expense to see the wee folk pay for open allegiance with the Keepers. As I write, we race to aid their island cities against thronging evil. I must decide whether to pursue rumors of a subterranean path under the mountains or brave the Northern Trade Route.

Branch A: My Halfling advisers talk of a subterranean path through the mountains. Once the strict domain of Dwarves, the caverns echo with the sound of battle. Orc and Dwarven forces clash. Despite the dangers, that path -directly east- appears the fastest way to Lunaris and my little friends assure me the Dwarves are friendly, especially toward those who battle the Orcs. Keepers have enjoyed a history of cooperation with Dwarvenkind for centuries. Now their fellowship may verily deliver us.  According to scouts we must arrive within 20 days or Lunaris will fall and we will be trapped behind enemy lines.

The Dwarves are fine warriors, fiercer than I'd remembered. I think the feeling was mutual, as Keeper forces revealed an ability to fight. The look of surprise on the face of their grizzled battle-captain shall keep me bemused for years. I will have to consider these Dwarven folk carefully, when the opportunity comes to recruit stronger allies. Our arrival in Lunaris energized the weary Halfling forces here. I have never seen people as euphoric as these are at our arrival. Their energetic spirit gives me hope in the face of foreboding afflictions.

Branch B: I fear that we may arrive too late, and the Trade Route is long and arduous, but it is the surest way through the mountains. The exploration of strange caves will have to wait. The Cult is certain to make the path treacherous, but I am told a Keeper initiate, of the name Devon Strongberry, awaits in a tower at the northern most part of the path. The Cult moves to cut off our advance, and I am told I must arrive in Lunaris within 20 days or we will be hopelessly trapped behind enemy lines.

Never before have I seen troops move with such swift determination. Though I am weary from travel, my Halfling fellows seem untouched by strain. They regale the populace with tales of nobles feats they have yet to do. I no longer wonder why Meandor sees these tiny fellows as threatening. <eol>Our arrival in Lunaris energized the weary forces here. I have never before seen people so enlivened by our meager tales of victory. Should I live to a ripe age, I shall return to these good folk--though small they live big, even in the face of terror.

Branches rejoin: Our path ahead is clear. Here we will stand against Meandor's Orcs and Goblins. Here we will create a future for our allies. If the Keepers are to gain any future allies, we will need to demonstrate that we can protect them. There are many that watch us and diplomatic pressure grows. Lord Thakor of the Froslings observes from the North, intent upon claiming sizable portions of Halfling lands. While not of the Cult, these opportunists must either enter an alliance or submit to Halfling sovereignty. Our only ally is a clan of wood elves, who dwell within the southwestern forests. The capital city, Lyra, on the central island, is under siege. Even from Lunaris, across the Inland Sea, greasy black smoke streaks the sky. Assault fires mar the otherwise verdant isles. The fires are fed by Goblin and Orc swarms living to the east. It is clear that if Lyra falls, our cause will falter, thus I am imploring all those in my command to reach this central city as quickly as is feasible. Once safe, Lyra will serve a fine stronghold to secure the entire region.

It is near dawn and the celebrations are still ongoing; I cannot sleep, so I write. Despite the victory and jubilant crowds below, from this balcony, all I see is a flare fixed over the distant Valley. The bright star speaks my name, reminding me that there are greater forces at work. Julia sent congratulations at our victory via Eagle Riders. But with that praise comes disturbing news. Rumors abound that the Cult's necromancers plot to resurrect Lord Inioch. I fear Meandor, obsessed with obliterating humanity, tampers with seductive forces beyond any living being's control.]

I have dire news. As the Keepers hoped to explore diplomatic ties with the Lizardmen and Frostlings, tragedy struck our allies in Deepmir. Collapsed is the vast underground nation belonging to the Dwarves. Vulnerable to extinction, the Dwarves must abandon our cause to salvage the remains of their people. Now we are faced with the question of pursuing new allies or aiding those ancient ones. Most of the Keepers insist we owe the Dwarves our assistance, but in our insistence upon charity, are we dooming ourselves?

- - - Dwarves

Rumors abound as Dwarves ooze from the wounded mountains. Though reluctant to speak to me--a stranger--I have overheard talk of gnashing earth releasing hoards of nastiness. From what I can gather, there are many survivors still trapped below and the city of Delatar is vulnerable, overrun by refugees and exposed without Deepmir. If predators lurk among the labyrinth, I shall hunt them. The Dwarves gave me use of a trained Giant Mole, and I am ready to enter, to assist in any way I can. Delatar must be strengthened if the Dwarves hope to avoid obliteration. About the Dwarves: The Dwarves are a stubborn, reclusive folk. Because many of their secrets are stolen and used for destruction, Dwarves tend to keep to themselves. Even Keepers know few hard facts about the Dwarves, save that they are honorable. Fiercely industrious, Deepmir Dwarves employ complex machines to create and defend their home. Their larger cities are capable of building many contraptions, including airships and cannons. They are gentle and are known to befriend Giants and other strange creatures. Their smallest outposts can enlist zealous berserkers with a special round-attack, which delivers a blow to multiple enemies.

Unlike Orc captives, intimidated Goblins speak freely of their orders. The Cult of Storms had foreknowledge of the collapse, and secreted forces into the mountains to be ready to pounce, "when rocks chattered like teeth." Surviving Dwarf stone-sayers claim the sudden shift in fissures could not happen. Yet, the Cult of Storms knew it would? It was no accident. Still, Delatar is currently safe, though vulnerable and taxed by its burgeoning population of destitute outcasts. My only comfort is the tenacity of these exiled. They refuse to accept defeat, and strengthen my resolve in our cause.

With Deepmir gone, the Dwarves insist the earth requires time "to heal." They flow instinctively toward their "Safelands," minds fixed upon building in the "healthy" earth. My stomach is rocking from the dizzying flight to the mining outpost, Bronnam. We arrived in balloons to assure that the dwarven mines remain safe. Not trusting the Dwarves, the Frostlings have long craved this place. I suspect they see easy gold and free slave labor, but the gold must go to save Dwarves. There's no time for diplomacy. The Frostlings leave us no choice, but to teach them respect by icy steel.

While the journey to the Safelands is still long and perilous, I am lifted to jubilation by these stalwart Dwarves. The Frostlings pull back into the glaciers and pillars of snow. The meager spoils from this mission will feed the oncoming horde of pilgrims. Bronnam's rich mines clank with sorely needed resources, which will go far to fund the last leg of journey. Another Dwarven talent, previously unknown to me, wafts through the air. The smell of roasting penguins, compels me to cut this entry short. Hopefully, I will learn more of these enigmatic people at the feast.

While exchanging ghost stories, the Dwarves told a tale that piques my interest. After King Inioch perished, the Dwarves decided to create the safe haven, Deepmir, but their greatest heroes disappeared before the great nation was founded, vanishing in a cave near here. Ill-fated attempts to rescue them only fuel endless ghost stories. Ever the Masters of dark foreboding, I suspect the Cult of Storms. Legends state the heroes will return, "In dire need." I intend to investigate this story for we have great need of help, and there is time before the Dwarves arrive in the Safelands.

The legend is no more. The awakened heroes are eager to assist Julia, and the Dwarves. I wish I had more time to pursue the other legends and superstitions, which echo throughout dwarven campfires, but now graver talk fills our ears. Letters, found among the Cult's holdings, reveal Stormlord Melenis orchestrated the collapse of Deepmir and used it to threaten the Frostlings into hostility against Keepers and Dwarves. And while we've dealt the Cult a blow, from what I have read, Melenis is organizing a massive strike against the Dwarves, before we have built up in the Safelands.

Frostlings, Orcs, and Dark Elves gather. Battle is imminent. The Cult has also convinced a group of greedy Lizardmen that the weakened Dwarves hoard a treasure. No doubt, they view the Safelands as a deathtrap. Steep mountain walls reflect urgency. If we do not prevail, the Dwarves will be trapped in the natural fortress without hope of escape. I've tried to convince the weaker to flee, but the Dwarves point out to me that they have no where else to go. The Dwarves believe holiness abides in the tops of these mountains, and refuse to surrender hope. I have confirmed that Stormlord Melenis leads the Cult's army. She stirs her forces to shrill frenzy. All hope rests in holding the Safelands. Should we fall the Frostlings may be intimidated to join Meandor in the Valley of Wonders. Further, should Melenis be allowed to escape, the secret powers that she wields over the earth, and the details of her plan, will forever plague the Dwarves. Victory must, therefore, be complete and untempered by lenient restraint traditional among Keepers -ironically, just the type of battle a Dwarven berserker was born to fight.

The Dwarves blow trumpets of victory from every clime. The Frostlings melt away. The few surviving Orcs tremble at the sight of Dwarves. The lizards abandoned their lust for gold. The Dark Elves are vanquished. Melenis lies dead. The insane conviction in her eyes frightened me more than any weapon or earth-shattering spell. I once believed the Cult acted by chaotic cowardice, but now I see they intend to win this conflict no matter the cost to this world. Her reckless resentment leads me to believe no intelligence report we have received is exaggerated. I fear the strange messages salvaged from Melenis' belongings indicate that terrible powers are about to wash over us all. I have sent warnings and news to Julia by Dwarven Balloon. Charged with the confidence over this victory, every Dwarf in the city enlisted to join Julia and the Keepers in the Valley of Wonders. Still, I refuse to condemn mothers, children and elderly to war, no matter how much they beg to join. They need warriors to guarantee they prosper, to rebuild, and to gather their scattered people, so I select but a few.

Three days ago, the white star changed to crimson. Julia sends word that our greatest fear infects the world again. Meandor has done the unspeakable, freeing Inioch from the grave in the form of walking-death. With the bloody star, the loss of their queen, and now the spread of pestilence which blights their verdant forest-lands, the Elves go to an island. From this "Isle of Last Goodbyes," they believe to sail to a mythical sanctuary called "Evermore." With the Elves leaving, who will stand against Meandor's slaughter, or the waves of death which consume the living earth? An enigmatic race called Highmen has offered to combat the Undead. These beings of light scorch the Undead by sheer righteous dominion. I have seen little of their troops, save that where they strike, nothing evil remains. Still, I am cautious to empower such an unknown force. I know Julia would prefer that I choose to help her people migrate to their ships. But if I help the Elves leave, will some remain to take the Valley of Wonders? Or do I ally myself with these Highmen and leave the Elves to find their own course?

- - - Elves

The stench of decay follows where the Undead lurk. Once perfumed with blossoms, forest rots with the smell of waste. Already Highmen armies drive the dead away from Human settlements, sending them looking for an easier kill. Reapers turn the fertile forests desolate with their touch. Inioch is determined to gather his new subjects by carnage. While the Elves prepare to migrate to their promised Evermore, this monstrous king has sent his legions to sever the safe passages through the tangled woodlands. Hungrily, Inioch devours anything living, adding it to his army. The Elves of Silvanus took pride in their independence. They refused to honor Elwyn or the Keepers. Now though, we are united. I suppose I should celebrate. A century of hostility between Silvanus and Aldor is over, but grave concerns paralyze me. All Undead must be destroyed if passage to the Isle of Last Goodbyes is to remain safe. But Inioch is not stupid, and unlike the Highmen, he knew the Elves -their weaknesses- in a time of prosperity. My hope rests in the changes of this last century and the hard lessons that the Elves have learned since Inioch's fall. About the Elves: Elves are a race of immortals whose lives cease only by violence. There has never been a time when Elves have not graced this world, transforming burning wastelands into vibrant gardens full of life. Legend speaks of a time when Elves had many gates to their haven realm of Evermore, but now only the Isle of Last Goodbyes remains. In days when death was unknown, the Elves balanced the newborn by those who passed beyond to Evermore. Now, Evermore is viewed by many Elves as the only hope to survival in a world soured against its first caretakers.

The forests are calm, and the Elves have set to healing the skeletal remains of their damaged lands. Hope remains high. Travelers from Aldor arrive daily met by smiles and warm food. These Elves are different than those high-minded ones of Inioch's court. Talk bubbles about the long trip which lies before them. If only there were a way to move the Elves quickly across the great expanse of land. Still, perhaps the long journey will encourage some of the Elves to contemplate their purpose. Perhaps some will fight for this land, this home, and what they leave behind.

A Dwarf who fought with me in the Safelands, named Moljnir, has sent word to me. He tells of a Wizard's college willing to teach me and the Elves, a powerful new spell, which allows the opening of stable transport gates, across the world. If this is true, the Elven journey could be completed without peril and in an instant. I have followed Moljnir's instructions, though some are strange. He insists that I must not bring a large armed force, because the wizards of the college are skittish. Still, I refuse to come defenseless. The details of Moljnir's message are beyond the talent of a forger, and the lockbox was genuine Dwarven-make, but I struggle to quell my doubts. Skittish wizards with a spell to solve all my problems? As instructed, I've come to the hamlet of Sugarwood, but I've yet to see Moljnir. On the morrow, I'm to proceed to the wizard's college, following the signs. All questions will be answered, at least according to Moljnir's message. I should be excited, so why can't I dismiss the dread in my gut, the nagging doubts which strangle my optimism?

Melenis is dead, again. I doubt I will ever forget her horrible face. I cannot believe I could be drawn into her trap so easily. The wizards of the college were grateful to be rescued, but the spell promised by my possessed friend never existed. Still, I have my life, and I confess gratitude for the lessons I've learned here. The Elves in Silvanus are moving out, and the path through the wildwood is treacherous. Rather than couch my hopes in miraculous mirages, I suppose the Elves will need to complete this journey by means of hard labor.

Tollrock Wood is the last obstacle to reaching the ancient shipyards, from which the journey should be simple. The Elven settlements around the edges of this forest are ripe with talk of evil prowling these woods. Tollrock is said to be a sacred and fearsome place, where Elven refugees two centuries in the past, fleeing the Human invasion, tried to escape via the shipyards. Some Elves say the land was barren, until the massacre began, and for every fallen Elf, up grew a tortured tree. The Elves hid in the clefts of the rocks, but nothing would stay the Human onslaught. None escaped. When the wind blows, the Elves claim to hear the screams of their deceased comrades still echoing through the woods. Out of guilt, both Aldor and Silvanus tended the woodlands for decades, but no Elf dared venture underground. Instead, they patrolled the surface, guaranteeing passage to the shipyards. Now, however, all contact with the shipyards has been cut off. This dreary place would serve Undead most handily, and I fear respect for the dead has given the creatures a fine hunting ground. I intend to clear the way to the shipyards and rid this place of Undead.

The Tollrock shipyards were not held by Undead, as I had previously suspected, but by Dark Elves. Furthermore, the shipyards have been used. I fear for the Isle of Last Goodbyes. The Cult, more than any other, fears the power of Evermore. Some say it is the only thing which can cure their corrupted souls, and for that reason they fear it. With the Undead cast from the Elven forests, the true enemy is clear. But this last desperate move, may have exposed this enemy's weakness, and may provide us with a lasting solution to the Dark Elves' anger.

The Elves are ready. Evermore awaits, but before the reward of paradise, the Elves face the possibility of death. Yet, they are not grim, or resentful. Their eyes are wide and bright. I confess my heart swells in confidence as the conflict approaches. For once, they fight for a cause more eternal than mere unending existence. Whether in life or death, it matters not now, the Elven heart is whole and filled with meaning which had once been forgotten. Drawn by sails of faith, liberty, and wisdom, the Elves are finally home.

I see now the genius of this path, though I doubt I could explain it all. There is no more anger in the eyes of the Dark Elf captives. They look to Evermore with as much anticipation as the pilgrims arriving daily. As I watch the ships disappear behind the coils of that misty passage, I wonder if we will see them again. As I had hoped, many of the Elves have experienced a change of heart and stay for Julia. They look to the star shining in the south and with unprecedented courage prepare for a great stand.

- - - Finale

Julia is here, and our reunion has been a joyful one. She sees beyond weaponry with a rare vision. She speaks little of the mission that lies ahead. Instead, she winks knowingly at me, and talks only of victory. She smiles soothingly when I voice my fears. The mission is simple. We must conquer any and all who stand against us. Only then, can we establish order. Inioch's ruined court lies in the center of the valley. Nearby lay the Human settlements, and around them, lay all other factions. It is here that we stand for all that matters.

The Star is gone, yet the valley sparkles in white light. The Keepers prevail! The Elves, Halflings and Dwarves have proven themselves as stalwart allies to life. The Highmen concede our victory. They placed the star in the sky, and have returned to it. In typical condescending fashion they have entrusted the Keepers to guide the destiny of their children, Humankind -for now. I cannot dismiss the nagging concern that we are not finished with these Highmen, or their nemesis the Undead. Were it not for their conflict, would the Elves be as vibrant as they are today? I cherish the prospect of a free world where we may establish our own rule and breathe peace -even if it be for a few gasping cheers. Celebration echoes from every part of the valley. Much work remains, but for now, we have peace. All the remaining races have sued for peace. We'll rebuild and share this Valley according to Julia's vision -a vision shared by dear friends and others I would have liked to have known who are dead and gone. Must all good things be paid for with a gruesome price and face such opposition? Why does the universe demand the shedding of blood? From such violence can sprout seeds of new prosperity. What of us remaining? Living, but with such loss. I suppose I will have many decades to ponder such mysteries and how one heart turns from war scarred with anger while another is reborn in hope. But first, I think I will put this book down, and join the celebration of lights and song with my allies -my friends.