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Author Topic: The Story of Hellentria  (Read 5572 times)
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Amaterasu
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« on: August 31, 2007, 14:48:17 PM »

Part 1 Posted 17/04/2007
  Been playing roleplaying games the best part of my life at sometime i gathered my mind to a bigger scope,as most of us in the field had done, i wanted to create a world of my own so my players will make the legends and the heroes of this world they will give way to where it will lead. This project unfortunately it stopped many years before, life had caught us in this quest for Atlantis and most of my player alongside myself had to go into the mood and depresing day to day life we still got around to play but now more casualy a pre-printed adventure with minimum effort from the storyteller part so he will have time to properly prepare.Anyway i came up to the book a few days before and i was fascinated of our youth dreams and desires i thought to share it here and have a piece of your mind alongside with guidelines and thoughts of how will make more sense now.If you like it i ll try to put chapter after chapter here so to hear my tale.So let's the story begins, let me take my harp and tell you of a far far away world in another universe in another realm and time.

Chapter 1:

Cosmogony: Void and the Gods

  In the beginning there was only void and darkness. A supreme entity residence in it. It walked to the edge of the beachless sea of blackness his thoughts vast and raging but yet there was an utter feeling that had nested deep within his immortal heart the feeling was sadness immerse and grieving. Alone in this oblivious darkness the ruler of these sunless seas felt grief for the chaos itself cold and motionless but yet liquid like the thoughts that flooded the mind of this entity. Yet there was something there a barrier!! That the supreme entity could not pass out there - in his mind. CREATION!! That was it! Matter and all that surround her suddenly flashed in his soul.
  In a wave of his hand he created the stars that shone till the edge of the cosmos and shed their light upon the previously soulless and cold world. In the center of this newborn world settled the brightest star of all a great fiery ball the Sun and at his embrace he settled another heavenly body but this one was grey and lifeless spinning around alone and seems not to shed light but rather absorbs it from all the surrounded shiny constellations .Around that one nested two smaller globes the twin moons it seems weird that in all its wisdom and majesty had created such a ugly heaven body. But his thought now a raging river coming from the highest peek of the world flood its substance unable to rein them unable to shut them down they escaped in to the farthest reaches of the cosmos from those thoughts born three offspring the children and part of the entity. They were three rulers of the world their name was Balinar the fair lady of the Earth, Kouros the lord of the Skies and Kirania the lady of magic and mysticism, surprised by this event the parent tried to get close to them full of curiosity but the young gods frightened fled and hidden behind the stars. The father then laughed loudly a laughter that shock the foundations of the newborn universe then he said "Come to my children and seeds of my mind there is nothing to be afraid» The gods still frighten looked upon each other then Kirania at first closed to her father hesitating in the beginning then more eager to learn and feel this supreme father then the other young gods followed her steps to him. He hugged them close and whispered them tales of his creation for a bedtime story.
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:11:42 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

Amaterasu
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« Reply #1 on: August 31, 2007, 14:50:13 PM »

Part 2 Posted 18/04/2007
A little explanation cause a question came along of the parental model i use for the supreme force of my cosmogony as you can see in the beggining i only reffering to he father as it genderless,well and later he is genderless,cause no sired children came out of the supreme ruler at the time of birth it becomes he cause first he sired his childrens and secondly the father model is the best suited for my cosmogony for not apparent reason that my views on the matter is as follow.Although the father loves the children as much as the mother he has a clear head to give them guideness and advice seeing his children as both offsprings of himself as well as humans beings to walk and live with principles similar to his own, thing that the mother sometimes misses the second one due to her unlimited love she has on us she only see the perfect in us right or wrong she will loves us for been seeds of her womb she will cry when we will cry she will pain when we ll be in pain cause she nutrice us when we where fragile and shivering on those first steps upon this world that why in her opinion toward us she will put her heart above other judgment.But enough of this lets continue our story from where we left it.

Chapter 1
Cosmogony The Hellentria touches the divine

After that event they learned the young gods learned in time to respect and listen to their father's guidance so the gods spent their days of eternity with laughter and joy. One day as the gods were playing amongst the stars running and hiding in their glorious light they came to the center of the universe and sat their gaze upon a gloomy dark sphere cycling the greatest star of all with obvious curiosity they run to their father and asked him why in all his majesty did he created that lightless and cold orb of matter. The elder god answered them that he had no recollection of why he molded that one for it was a passing idea that faded before he could finish her it was at the exact moment of their birth with all the waterfall of thoughts rushing on and crushing upon his eternal mind this idea also slipped beyond his grasp may be forever. But deep inside the feeling, had remained, that this ugly structure was destined to be his mightier and brightest of all creation a shiny beacon, a temple to praise all creation. In honour of that memory hr hadn't destroyed the globe.
  The children looked at each other they knew they understood what the almighty father meant because the father had granted them that though in their birth. This marvellous thought was to create a world of unmatched beauty and untold grace that even a look upon it will fill their immortal heart with joy and serenity. Thus they decided to build themselves this world so they humbly asked for the reverent father to grant them this honour to fulfil his dream, the father overjoyed about their eagerness to complete his work granted them his blessing to do so. The young gods began to shape the world that came to be know as Hellentria they created the soil soft and warm to house the creature of the earth they rose mighty mountains reaching to the heavens their sweat created rivers running from the clearest peeks to the lowlands which in turn amassed to great oceans vast and deep the light reflecting upon their liquid surface and spreading in all he colours of the rainbow to the land and beyond. They plowed the earth and seeded her with their desires and love to give birth to magnificent trees and plants they breathed lightly upon the world and they made the animals to run, win and fly upon the creation without limitation and hesitation. They dotted the skies with clouds that in their turn brought rain to nutrice the plants and animals to grow and flourish they settled the oceans with little patches of lands for the weary traveller to rest and sleep for the night.
  The Father was filled with joy as he gazed his eyes upon the world that his children were creating. When the gods ended their creation they showed to their father that he was very pleased and his immortal heart filled with joy and tranquillity so much that he took up a decision to retire to a part of the universe and lay his wary spirit for a little sleep. Thus the father retired to the far corner of the cosmos leaving the world in the capable hands of his progeny.
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:12:13 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

Amaterasu
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« Reply #2 on: August 31, 2007, 14:53:06 PM »

Part 3 Posted 19/04/2007
And the tale continues.
_Hope you like it so far the eldery bard said and took once more his harp to entairtain his audience.

Chapter 1
Cosmogony The gifts of the gods
 
 As the gods where running around their creation to paint blessed with infinite imagination putting, with their mighty brush upon their canvas of the world, the last strokes. The father secretly gave his final gift to his children. He waved his hand and placed upon the world beings that they were material images of his children and then he departed to the far corner of the cosmos so to rest.
  One day as the gods strolled thought their creation enjoining their creation they saw an animal that they had no previous recollection that they had created. Full of curiosity watched at the new specie, weak and fragile full of sorrow from their existence to be sunned away from the elements of nature, to try to survive in a wild state. The gods pitied and loved them so in order to protect them they decided to give them, each one, and a gift. Kouros gave the gift of intellect so to understand, think and feel the world, Balinar gave them the ability to construct and mold their surrounding material world finally Kirania gave the ability to handle and manipulate the energy that runs wildly though every material and spiritual creations in the cosmos she gave them magic. The other gods saw kirania's gift with trouble believed that such a gift will be dangerous for a young and unprepared world as it was, but they couldn't disagree with their beloved sister.
Kirania saw the scepticism in her sibling’s faces and proposed to travel away far from this universe to other dimensions and other realities in order to learn and master this energy before give it to the humans. And then the children said their farewell and wished Kirania to bring enlighment to the world one day and splitted up. Thus Kirania began her long journey to other places and timelines.
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:12:27 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

Amaterasu
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« Reply #3 on: August 31, 2007, 14:55:05 PM »

Part 4 Posted 21/05/2007
It is a long time since the last segment of the story work had gotten the best out me.So my apologies for that and hoping that enjoying a little the story here is the newest addition in the story.
The bard sit comfortably and continues his tale.

Chapter 1
Cosmogony: The Birth of Hatred

The eons passed in tranquillity and peace it was a golden age, The age of dreams, Kouros and Balinar gave birth to a son Talos. Talos was beloved by humans as he walked amongst them a titan grabbed in brilliant clothes he heard their praises and their problems but deep inside in the hidden folds of his soul Talos was a dark reflection of his parents he regarded humanity as weaklings with no will and power to excel themselves and strife for perfection and dominance they only sought after their day to day living and praying his parents. One day as Talos played upon the sandy beaches of the northern islands of the world he accumulated the most rare materials to make toys for his game and began to make a crude, in the beginning, form and as the day gave way to the starlit sky he lost all sense of his surroundings only concentrated in what was laid in front of his eyes and hands. As the first rays of the new Sun cracked the sky Talos was staring down in his creation with pride they were cruel imitations of humanity remotely reminding any form that walked or swam in Hellentria.
  Fiery red skin like the furnace that raged in the young god heart full of desires and cruelty sharp fangs to tear through flesh like razor sharp blades big nostrils taken from the most vicious predators of nature eyes black like the darkest abyss horned daemons of his mind. He took pride in his work yet at the same time he was sad because he knew that they were mere puppets soulless and cold at this time of sadness an idea formed in his mind to take the secret of life from his parents and breathe life into the puppets. He gone to his parents pleading to grand him the favour to create life as they did once. Little they suspected that Talos had a more sinister purpose in his mind, so they granted him his hearts desire and gave away the secret of life. As soon as Talos gave life to his creation his parents realized that they made a grave error out of love for their son, they looked down at the new race and saw deep into their dark and twisted souls and they only saw death and mayhem ready to crush everything in creation under their heels. So they decided to end their existence but Talos cried out not to do so because he wanted to have them as his toys and yet again under the love for him they decided to banish them to the northern regions of the world among harsh climate and nature's cruellest predators they hoped that they will learn humbleness. Talos was furious about the judgment that his parents had passed upon his race, the Talonites, that he decided to join them in exile. A new era had began an era of hate and war, after that Hellentria will learn the meaning of those words in a maelstrom of chaos and corruption as Talonites little they learn About humbleness as they became more cruel more cold-hearted.
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:12:38 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

Amaterasu
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« Reply #4 on: August 31, 2007, 14:59:04 PM »

Part 5 Posted 22/05/2007
Good to be back
There is no such thing as incest in divine essence they are energy, in all the cosmogonies the god-s given names and bodies so that mortals can understant and comprehead as well as make them more eartly.
Besides they are part of the same whole so in reality they are not siblings they are the same deity in different manifestasion.I had that ready along with the previous part but because it was the beginning of the new chapter i felt like it was proper to post it seperated.
And a new chapter in the history of Hellentria begin as thus.

Chapter 2:
Chronography: The Coming Storm

   Thus began the new age, The Age of Strife. Talos deep within the icy realms of the north alongside his race planned and trained his followers to overcome the hardship and any foe that will stand in their way for supremacy. Kouros and Balinar deeply grieved from the actions of their son stood upon the world with sadness and Helentria was plunged in a deep winter to reflect the emotions of her creation and from their grief was born Selen, the Lady of the winter. Selen walked upon the world covering everything in snow to hide under the purest white veil the sorrows and mishaps of the world.
 The Talonites on the other hand forged their army relentlessly, their furnace mountains spat out weapons and armors daily to equip the vast number of troops. Soon, thought Talos , I will have my vengeance soon I‘ll be the lord of all that walk upon this realm. The Human race little they suspected of the coming storm peace was the only state of life they knew. Although the winter that befell upon the earth made them unsettled, trying in vain to commune with their deities they received no answer so they assumed that they fell from grace. A new belief began to form, the new religions doctrine was that the gods had departed for a search for more fitting race to shine their lights upon them because the humans had made them sad, thing that could explain the eternal winter that lay upon the land. So in order to amend one had to pray and repent daily which led to a terrible neglect of their bodies and spirit. But they were an opposite faction that began to believe in the elements and beasts of the world deitify them to the point of sacrificing to them and asking for guidance in the wind and water.
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:12:57 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

Amaterasu
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« Reply #5 on: August 31, 2007, 15:00:40 PM »

Part 6 Posted 23/05/2007
This passage had some new additions in the recent days to have a better synergy with the storyline,previous and future.Any comments are much appreciated as always.
"Hope you enjoy the story thus far." said the elder bard "Any donation to the muse is much appreciated" added meaning an ale and a plate of hot food that he saw was coming his way.After he had his fill from the food the children were jumping up and down for him to continue.

Chapter 2
Chronography: Maelstrom

 The pale morning sun was just enough to illuminate the sick sky, unable to penetrate and warm up the frozen earth. The young boy was moving cautiously between the trees down a worn and muddy path trailing out of sight deep in the white plume forest. He had to go and check the rabbit traps set in a clearance on the north boundaries of the forest if he was lucky he could catch his family dinner. Abardon has seen only a dozen summers, if they can been called summers anymore just a small raise in the temperature and a clear day or two can hardly come close to his parents tales of marvelous green fields heavy with crops as far as the eye could see and the beautiful birds and animals singing and playing in the bright sun. He only had seen white all his life the dull sterile white covered world laid all his life in front of his eyes. But it was no time for dreaming it was his turns today to, at least try, bring food to the family table. Hunt was a commodity these days the few animals that remained awake had been hiding and themselves had harsh time to find food so unless he found some unfortunate rabbit there he will be roots for dinner again. As he closed to the clearing
he heard a strange noise some distance ahead, footfalls but they were heavy and ringing like banging metal atop the icy earth. His instincts cried out to flee but his curiosity intrigued to hide and observe what kind of animal or man made instrument made that sound.
 It wasn’t natural all right but those creatures that wore the metal clothes were only remotely humanoid they were the daemons that his parents spoke in low voices in the still of the night when they thought his was asleep they where the Talonites of the north why are they here and what are they doing here. Adardon took extra care to stay still so they could not find him out he can hear them now their language highly unfamiliar to his own seems crude and barbaric they were only half a dozen of them, a hunting party he thought, they must have difficulties as well. They were a hunting party but the prey they sought out to take was neither a beast nor a bird it was the entire human race. One of them pointed to a direction to the south and make a hand signal accompanied but a low grunge to his fellow tribesmen as they passed in front of the boys hiding place and continued due south toward the direction of his village. Sudden terror rushed through Abardon’s frail body a sickening feeling he could not give word to, something was very wrong here if they where hunters in a strange land they should avoid the human settlements or that what his father and him had done when they ventured in the other tribe hunting grounds. He should go back as fast as he could to tell his father of what he saw getting out of underbrush he looked around to see if more daemons followed their kinsmen and then started to run toward his village. Taking care to reroute from a little sidetrack so to avoid the change to fall in the Talonites he took quite some time to get clear of the forest because the snow and the plants made his progress slower that his intentions were.
 As he was out the trees he looked up in the horizon toward the direction of his village what he saw struck fear in his little heart, he saw several heavy smoke columns to rise in the air and a red glow had settled in the early morning horizon something had gone terribly wrong thought as he dashed to a wild run amidst the muddy field he tripped and stabled many times but agile and firm in his mind he rose up quicker that his downfalls. Finally the first houses was in his sight, or better yet what left of those house, now a steaming pile of charred coal and stone some huts where burning some other where in ashes tears blinded his vision as he run toward his house. Abardon’s house was in the other side of the village a few meters from a small spring that had blessed the village with clean running water as he managed to get to the small yard that his mother used to plant some roots for her family to eat the sight made his knee to finally betray his falling on his knees he looked in terror as tears claimed his small eyes to prevent his fragile heart from been broken. His house, now in ashes ,the door and several part of the walls on fire yet, the stone chimney black from the heat the roof long hour ago consumed by the hungry fire had been ruined.
 He got up with seer force of will as his mind dictated to go look for his family he took a heavy and painful step forward when his eyes cleared for a moment for him to see what was there the body of his father laid in the step of the door in an awkward position in his hand a pitchfork his body pierced in many places was a ragged doll full of blood his eyes opened in a terrible expression of utter terror.
The boy’s heart could not take any more and he felt limbless in the frozen earth sweet darkness carried him atop the bitter wings of the vulture of oblivion he was taken to a land that worries and pain was no more.     
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:13:09 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

Amaterasu
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« Reply #6 on: August 31, 2007, 15:05:35 PM »

Part 7 Posted 06/06/2007
I must apologize for my neglect to post the new part but severall reasons prevented me from that.
These are new additions to the story made these days because it is the backround of my players that played in the adventure i left deliberatly gaps in the story in order for my players to fill in the infos and set the wheels in motion.Although the adventure (Princess of the Dawn) itself takes part several years later their roots are here the only sad part is that it is my personal views of their character and do not know their minds when they created them or when they played them (so guys i am sorry if i wronged any of you, you were a hell of  party to bully around you only deserve the worse treatment after those pic of me made from the pc.)
PS
There three more backround to explore till the real action begins.Hopefully i ll try to write them and translate a bit in the next few days.

Thus the story unfolds the pawns set the enemy is on the march to which end only time and the blood red dawn will tell because "Only the dead had seen the end of the war" Plato - thus spoke the elder bard as he continued his story.

Chapter 2
Chronography: Into the eye of the storm

   It was the best of times it was the worst of times, Sivar thought, finally he had a good position in the city guard as a captain but what to protect anymore and from whom? The people of Argath had either withered from the bad living conditions or fled to the wilderness in hope of a better life and a bit more food so to protect the empty buildings was a mockery to the purpose of the city guard the city was the citizens that lived within the constructions. Sad as it was so few are staying now here as the predators that lurked outside the wooden palisade as well as within the city. The first category which was the wild beasts for long years ceased to exist in numbers because as his people passed to the afterlife or left for greener pastures, as they thought, so does them died, hibernated or fled the surrounding woods to withstand this forsaken eternal winter. As for the second category, the thugs and the miscaleous riffraff that preyed upon their fellow citizen long ago they had lost their “client” so they departed for other cities of the continent. And yet another day came to past so that a new one could be born out of the bosom of the brilliant sun, Sivar thought, but to which end only the gods know. He kissed his wife in the cheek still asleep lightly as he could master opened the door to his two young boys room to check on them they were both peacefully asleep he closed the door and set off for the city guard building. Little did he suspect that this will be the longest and more terrible day of his life.
   In another part of Hellentria far away beyond the sea of storms laid the continent of Magaska a once rich and fertile hegemony of man now ravaged by the everlasting winter. Ilindria was a woman in her prime fiery red long hairs falling to her waist, her alabaster skin glowed with soothing piece, her posture sure and noble she was after all her father daughter, the duke of Attika, she was a priestess in the temple of the elder god tried to ease up the pain and suffering of her people, much to her father disapproval to mix up with the common lot. Fortunately she thought otherwise about her subjects trying to mend and heal the pain as well as the hearts of men. Little could she recall about the majestic summers of her homeland she was barely able to walk when the cursed freeze struck the land her mother passed in childbirth and the only person she knew as a parent was her father which had a great love for her and always tried to protect her but the affair of the states, in this terribly position , started to demand more and more of his time so Ilindria was eventually grown up by her aunt, a fair lady in her primes, but the hardships had took their toll upon a once a proud woman she raised Ilindria well and with honour she was a mother that never knew and for that she loved her so much. Her day started early attending the morning prayers, the only one that she gone in her day, because more and more the clergy began to neglect the people so to ask for "forgivness" from the god been done with that she was going to the western farmland it was an urgent message that a small child has gotten real sick and had to help it if she could.
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:13:24 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

Amaterasu
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« Reply #7 on: August 31, 2007, 15:08:21 PM »

Part 8 Posted 21/07/2007
It has been some time since i updated my story, well blame the summer 
Anyway here i am again(much to the displease of others i presume) the following segment is not in the flow of the storyline it is rather from the middle of it but it is an idea i worked in the past few days chronological it is set in the final battle of the story the one that will decide the fate of the world.So i ll post it now and later on during the course of the story it will take a name and fall into line. Personaly i do not like to comment my creations i like to leave others to extract they opinion for them but to this i wil make an exeption. Because it is worked for a better part of a week and written directly to the english language i believe that i like it and i like it very much
Ok shutting up mode but before i leave you to the martyrous cause of reading all this i like to dedicate this to the person that awaken my mind: Thanks and you might never know what you meant to me.

Chapter:  (Unknown)
Chronography (To be added)

      Above the battlefield of Ascaroth stood the two mighty beings, supreme in their postures each one representing one scale of the equilibrium that now was in peril, one an Angel of Light so bright that the mortal dared not to lay their eyes on him because they will lose their precious gift of sight. Magnificent in his shiny plate armour of faith decorated with the emblems of his patron deities, made from the rarest ore of the highest layer of the Celestial plane, forged for seven generations atop the anvil of the Worlds with the sanctified hammer of Creation, blessed by the divine entities of time and space, merged with a thousand unborn souls. Himself a son of light born in the beginning of time, in the heart of the universe. His wings of alabaster feathers slightly beating the foul air that had taken over this field of death kept him afloat. His gentle eyes blue as the clear midday August sky, deep as the sunless depths of the seas where now watered from the size of the destruction that lay before him, beneath his elegant sandals piles of bodies where laid in the grotesque position that they fell, pyres that their heat he can feel even so high in the ethers. In his right hand he wielded the Sword of Vengeance, a magnificent blade forged in the highest peak of the Celestine mountain, made from the purest of metal bounded with the essence of heaven, engulfed in righteous holy fire, baptized on the clear water of river Acheron to gain flexibility, so massively build yet so light in the touch in its hilt the true names of the elder gods were inscribed giving strength and courage to its wielder nourishing him, seven deep blue sapphires decorated its garde on both sides symbolizing the virtues of a true warrior of heaven, chastity, abstinence, liberality, diligence, patience, kindness, humility, upon its blade two words where written down on the middle of it “Justice Supreme”, never in the history of Hellentria did those words meant so much armed with this fine blade he was ready to avenge those foul acts which befallen to Hellentria for far to long, in his left arm he held the book of order a mighty tome that described the laws that ruled the cosmos written down by the elder gods, bound in a single golden dragon scale written with the blood of an archangel willingly given, its language as old as the earth herself shining brightly, illuminating the skies, penned with the feather of a phoenix, a mighty artefact to set everything right again and restore the long lost balance.
     On the other side a Daemon of Darkness with crimson red flesh the colour of spilled blood on the sand, his hair were bright flames white-hot colour atop his forehead two solid white horns made their presence symbol of his bestial power coursing through his veins. Terrifying in his black armour of Spite depicturing hideous horned figures in battle stances, made from the very essence of hell, gathered from the lakes of molten iron tossed in the rivers of acid to clear the unholy metal and then a million slaves gave their blood in unholy sacrifices to enchant it, forged by a dark unnamed lord of hell as a gift to his sun, him, an offspring of chaos and darkness laying in hibernation eons, waiting, watching for the right time to be unleashed upon the world. His large leathery wings with black veins beating rapidly in them where lashing out to the air with joy. His black pupil less eyes vast eternities of darkness sparkled with glee and satisfaction gazing upon the destruction and slaughter him and his minions had caused. Every death this day was a prayer to his vile existence, every sparkle of fire that ignited on the battlefield was a moment of joy for his dark soul he had achieved on what he was born to do. Beneath his hooves legs the dead bodies constructed an altar for him, every fire a candle in his name. In his muscular arms he held the axe of Armageddon a supreme double headed weapon that brought chaos and oblivion to anyone it struck, made from the deepest metal of the unnumbered layer of the Abyss, forged for a thousand and one centuries in the furnaces with the hellfire it was shaped took form and mind. Its shaft was decorated with seven blood rubies, symbols of the seven sins that a duke of hell must commit, lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, anger, envy, pride so be worthy of wielding it, bounded with a million tormented souls one purpose was its goal annihilation of all life, upon its blades it was written the names of countless lives it had taken. Armed with this chaotic weapon, holding it with his hands the daemon stood there.       
    After a short time that seemed like endless eons in the heart of the men the Daemon spoke his voice a bellowing roar full of rage, full of hatred shook the air and thus he spoke.
  "I look back and see the earth scorched in my path, I had awoken, a prince of the warp here to pass judgment in this pitiful excuse of reality, in my wake the sky rained fire, the earth cracked and the seas boiled. An apostle of doom foresaw my coming and then took his own life to spare the destiny that I shall pass on you. I am the eternal flame consuming the right and wrong of this world the great devourer of souls, the whisperer in your worst nightmares, the darkness that lurk in the hidden corners of your sanctuaries  deep in the still of your nights. I am the fear that you, so skilfully and vain bury deep within your pitiful ghost. You were deemed unworthy to live prepare for the eternal night.” As he gestured with his mighty hand pointing behind him in the wasteland that once was the fields of Ascaroth.
  “I look to where I stand and see slaughter, destruction and mayhem a sweet song in my ears. The ballad of apocalypse woven by my fathers in the Abyss eons ago I was, am and will be the maestro that will bring it to life, the chores of screams shall be my orchestra, the ruins and the husks of your fragile bodies shall be my scenery, the lazy old fouls that call themselves gods shall be my audience. I and my host of hell shall be the actors, and what brilliant play we shall give you, one worth remembering to the end of days, one worth your lives. All to the end my sweet daemons of destruction together we bring damnation to all, together we bring oblivion and darkness to all.”  And his eyes journeyed in the battlefield beneath him.
  “I look forward and see the land yet to been cleansed, the souls yet to be devoured, the castles yet to be brought down I shall be there when your castles lay in smoking ruins when the husks of your bodies are denied of their breathes when the banners of your once mighty yet ignorant and vain empires are burning atop their poles and in the end I will be there when the land cease to exist. Nothing can stop me I am the harbinger of destruction the force of purification the daemon that will bring apocalypse only in fire shall this world be clean of your existence." As he fixed his gaze to the Angel in front turning his hand toward him in a mocking knightly gesture.
      And grief and despair took nest in the human hearts laying down their arms fell to their knees praying for a swift execution to deliver them from the evil yet to come. The Angel seen that and spoke out to the daemon in response his voices a chores of celestial voices, the spring singing of the birds, the swift running of the streams the playfully voices of children’s in their primes yet absolute and authorising.
  "I look back to the beginning of time my parents laid their hands and blessed this world, I am an Angel of the Celestial realm here to protect and guide this world to greatness and glory, when I was born the world was a mere dream in the mind of the great Father, the sky a dim illusion of this one, the earth a hazy whirlwind of colours and shapes, the seas a primal clay in the hands of the creators skilfully crafting it to give birth to life.
The chores of heaven sung in unison and happiness when I was delivered in this world because I am hope, justice and truth incarnated the supporting pillar of all creation” Said as he spread his wings to their full extended and it seemed that inside will engulf the entire world.
 “I look to where I stand and my heart is broken to what this world had fallen to. The end of all dreams? I think not, merely a new beginning so to learn from our mistakes together we shall heal the land, together we shall mend the castles, together we shall give birth to the next generation, and together we shall raise our flags to the highest peak, the mightiest fortress, to the far reaches of the world and in the end we will rule and praise all creation. To me people of Hellentria your time is yet to come. This is not our dusk it is merely the twilight before the dawn, and what glorious dawn it will be giving birth to a bright new day full of dreams, full of colours, full of joy and full of life.” As he opened his arms calling beneath to the humans to rally to his cause.
  “I look forward and see the vessel for my vengeance, the error that should had never occurred, the unholy and unclean one. I shall smite thy in His name justice will be served this day for far to long the land had tolerated your vile existence. Today it ends in this battlefield of horrors your lifeless body will fall reminder to all that chaos and evil shall not pass as long as we stand guard to the Gates, wave after wave your unholy forces beaten us, slaughter us and burned us  but the mountain does not move nor shall my hand will falter.
Today all shall be avenged.” The angel screamed out his last words as he speeded up in order to meet the daemon headlong.
  And the previously knelt people of Hellentria found newborn strength as they raised their weapons and as the angel did high above them in the ethers so do they charged the foul armies of darkness that were marching out to them for yet another attack amidst the terrifying scenery of chaos the people of Hellentria found hope, hope that will never be lost.
The clash was deafening, the flare that precede her was like a new born sun...
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:13:38 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

Amaterasu
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« Reply #8 on: August 31, 2007, 15:10:33 PM »

Part 9 Posted 26/07/2007
As promised here is the next part of the story that continues to explore the background of the characters involved in the adventure to come.
One more night at the inn by the side of the street had lighten up its lights opened its doors and awaited the weary farmers and workers so to relax and have a drink to wash the days excaustion.
The elder bard watched the flame in the fireplace licking the wood as he was waiting for his "audience" of quirious customers and little children to arrive :

Chapter 2
Chronography: Rough Sea

The candle in its holder gave out its last spark, a flicker of light bright enough to illuminate the entire room, then died away rapidly giving way to the ever hunger darkness. In those late hours deep within the still of the night nothing can pierce her silk veil all were tame, asleep. The sounds of the forest surrounding the small village of Parthia deep in the Arasun forest were the only disturbances to the dark mistress. The owner of the small cottage, Santia, was fast asleep atop a leather bound book he was trying to read these days. Santia was one of the forest people an elf, as it came to been called by the other humans. Centuries in self exile and isolate way of life had made elves to have a special bond with the forest and its occupants. The forest in return granted them some of its blessings back. It was common for an elf to have longevity and superior senses, a much needed factor if to avoid the perils of the land or to hunt for supplies. As well as an edge in handling bows and blades. But Santia was fond of neither weapons, or better yet to any weapons, his arsenal was not a hand held one, it was rather in his mind, he was an arcanist, a mage. Only a few years back had he began his path in “The Art” as most of his caste called magic. Since the return of the elder goddess Kirania, so the ancient chronicles say, the art began to flourish all around Hellentria. She gave to the people the long awaited gift, the gift to explore and manipulate the unseen rivers of energy that runs through the physical and spiritual world.
     Day in and day out Santia tried to prove his worth in magic and show to his family that they where mistaken for his choice of life. They said that he had a chaotic and unorganized mind so to advance in magical field because the need of a disciple mind was a grave need so to avoid the mishaps during the incantations that were essential for the casting of spells. But since he was a small kid he was always fascinated by those slender hooded figures that could incinerate a whole house or bring forth water and food or even spread darkness everywhere. In his childish eyes they were great men bound in their withering mortal bodies. They could easily snap their fingers bring forth anything, be anywhere and be anyone their heart desired. But that was when he was a whelp now after so many years he understood why many of them where in a fragile physical condition, the art demanded a heavy toll as well as setting far to many boundaries to her initiates. He might never admit it openly but one of the reasons that he chose to devout to magic was his family. Santia was the first son of a merchant elf lord and thus his destiny was pretty much written from the time his mother delivered him to this world. A few years of schooling just to have a proper education then initiation to the court and its hollow and pathetic ways, then follow his father all over the realm to meet persons and strengthen ties, in short to know the tools and the way of trade. He lusted to get out of their oppressive ways and the restrictions they gave him. Fortunately he found a wizard to accept him as an apprentice in this far reach of Arasun realm after several rejections and failure to better masters he ended up to this drunkard sample of a wizard. The dawn found him in a dreamless sleep, the first rays of the morning sun crept through the half open curtains; the stubborn light kept trying to slip in through Santia’s shut eye lids. Slowly he ventured in the edge of consciousness, the first color he saw was the red that his eye lids cast on the iris of his eyes, opening his eyes he observed the small room. His body ached from the discomforting position that he slept, standing up he stretched himself to rub away the numbness of sleep. I have so many tasks to complete before Ariman, his master, wake and yet again he will not be in a clear mood after another night of wine consumption with his friends in the local tavern, he thought. “I might as well get started then, the sooner I finish the sooner I will go back to my reading.” spoke aloud after some water he thrown hastily to his face. And so he walked out his door down from the aerial pathways toward his mentor’s house.
« Last Edit: August 31, 2007, 15:13:54 PM by Amaterasu » Logged

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« Reply #9 on: September 11, 2007, 08:22:26 AM »

Part 10 Posted 10/09/2007
Having time off the net, due to the transfer of the phone line, but doing various tasks for a new house had a good idea for the next backgroung this characters was played by a good friend of mine during the course of the adventure and it was one of the deepest characters although the small portion i try to discibe here is much underestimating to the complexity he had infused in him, i ll try my best not to be unfair.

Chapter 2
Chronography: Earthquake

     Deep within the caverns of mount Olement lays the realm of Thargin a kingdom of short but stout denizens, the Dwarves. The dwarves were once human miners working the stone and unearthing valuable raw materials, for trading and constructions, centuries underground in their sunless citadels and small tunnels had forged their bodies to be smaller yet resilient they also had acquired the properties of their mother earth. Tempered as the volcanoes that erupted from the womb of the deep, stubborn as the stone denying passage to everything material, strong as their most prized of metal the mithril, noble as the gold ore that crisscrossed in bright veins the narrow corridors of their mines, enduring to disease and sickness as the razor sharp diamonds that glitter in the deep shafts illuminating them, and diffusing what poor light that dared trespass their dark realm. The forges of Thargin never stopped, never went out but instead their flames roared on and on producing anything the dwarves needed from fine craftsmanship weapons and armour to superb objects of art as well as everyday necessities.
     Marduk had passed his whole life in those mines tending to the furnace and the machinery necessary for the mines. Here in the deepest level of the great furnace, he knew every gear, every lever and every steam gauge, he could listen to the music the great machine made for him, one single treacle echoing to the depths of the dwarven realm. He could know when the iron mistress had her gloomy days and when she was happy for what she created all by the sounds in the pipes and in the tremor of the floor. A new day had ended it was time for Marduk to depart for home and leave his seductive mistress to the capable hands of his young assistances, so to nourish the fires of creation. “Well lads time to get meself home for some rest, treat her well for me will ya?” he asked as he turned around to open the doors. “Aye master machinist” responded his two apprentices calling him by his official title of the council. “Good then I am off” said Marduk as he exited the vast chamber. He took the eastern road home a road less travelled than usual these days due to the fact that some new expeditions found rich veins to the north.
    It was quite here, he loved and despite this absence of thunderous noise his machines were making. In this silence one could here his own thoughts. Thoughts that sometimes was pleasant to dwell upon them, speaking of happiness of majestic things yet to come to past and other more earthly ones that fill you make you put on your best of smiles, like you do in special occasions and travel down he days with it filling your existence with companions and person who love and care about. But most of the times it reached out and spoke of unravelled pathways the life could have took upon myriads of possibilities and outcomes all hypothetical of course but troublesome to an unsettling mind never the less. He was young by dwarven standards but did he knew anything else besides his work, did he ever felt the sweet and true caress of a woman in opposition to the hard, cold and unbeating metal heart of his machinery had granted him? Had he felt the warm rays of the fire globe that soared high in the blue sky that some comrades, who travelled in the surface, has described him? Had he saw the bird, a gift by a friend, in its natural environment travelling high above the ground never to set foot in the dust again, touching the clouds feeling the winds softly petting its feathery wings. Soaring higher and higher till it’s touched the end of the sky. Looking down to earth and see all the beasts and men fighting for survival trying to make it through the day, thinking how pity and small those efforts seem to be for so high above. He was a bird trapped in a wingless body inside a rocky grave with a simple tombstone reading “Here lays the spirit of Marduk Hammerthorn son of Kosan he lives the life of a decent dwarf under the title of the master machinist”
« Last Edit: September 11, 2007, 08:23:11 AM by Amaterasu » Logged

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