Ode and Nambe forge an alliance.Magnus blesses Adagnites' disciples with knowledge of four arcane paths: Sorcery, Magecraft, Artifice and Awakening.Sorcery is a magic of instant gratification, where the user shapes what they desire through sheer willpower and their own energy.
Magecraft is a magic of formulae and symbols. The user evokes certain effects through incantations and arcane words and symbols.
Artifice is a magic of creation, where the user creates objects and embeds in them great magical properties.
Awakening is a magic where the user not merely uses, but senses the flows of magic around them, enabling them to alter the flow of magic to achieve the effects they desire.
Those cursed by Wieland for their inhospitable conduct find that everything they own, structure or tool, made of stone or metal will quickly weather, rust and break, rendering them unable to ever use anything made of these materials again.
Berserkers are followers of Hakkaros' religion whose faith is strong enough to give them a great desire for war, as well as dulling their pain and fear. Although their physical strength remains the same, if gives them a better affinity for bloodshed, which makes their training easier. This, combined with their lack of fear, makes them into outstanding soldiers.
The Enforcers possess a high resistance to magic, but are at the same time rendered completely unable to utilize magic in any of its forms. They achieve this ability through harsh training and tutorship under other Enforcers, which also ultimately renders them mostly devoid of emotions. The order of the Enforcers finds its strength in its loyalty to Ode. By his decree, they wear grey cloaks over their armor and they conceal their faces.
Watchtowers are rogue spirits that have taken the second choice given to them by Nambe. (To either go back to the Spirit World or become a Watchtower). They serve to guard a tear between the Spirit World and the world of the living which is located there where the Kanskians once lived.
Galadrin's Idol resembles a crowned and cloaked figure, who wields a massive winged axe. This is more likely a symbol of office than a practical weapon. The statue is blessed to bring unprecedented prosperity to the Galadrians, enhancing productivity and fertility across the realm.
It was my son, born to a mortal father, who grew into the wisest of his kin. He grew old, but not weary, and would wander between the many peoples of my world, spreading knowledge, spreading wisdom, and I found great pleasure in the thought that he had achieved so much by his own power. He had never known me, but my flame burned inside him like a beautiful reflection of Yilmz' light. Oh, so do I dream of his father, a man now beyond the world of the living, whose love I once enjoyed. Oh, so do I yearn to relive that one time I met my son, that I played his own game and got utterly beaten. Yes! He bested the gods in his game, and beyond even that, he bested me. Is it not ironic that the goddess most like her imperfect mortal kin gives birth to a mortal of such perfection?~Kinaré
Turn Two: SchemesA book closed, its final chapter written, and the Keeper caressed the cover with care. It was leatherbound, and decorated with the image of a crown adorned by long, high spires. 'Malbran', the cover read. The Keeper walked slowly across the hallways, spending a moment's thought on their emptiness, on the apprentice it had taught by its master's decree. It had motivated him with a mission, given him knowledge, showed him truth and guided him to a wisdom beyond that of his peers. Then, when it had finally been time for his student to embark on this mission, it was with regret that it had taken away knowledge of the library, of its very own being and of this 'mission'. The Keeper had taken its apprentice in its arms, taking him up, beyond the waves, and laying him to rest on the beaches of Remestes. At that moment, now years ago, it had stared in amazement at the unconscious body of its disciple, wondering what would become of him. It had felt proud of the skill and knowledge the young man possessed. The Keeper took another turn, and seated itself behind a desk. It turned to the next chapter, and began to read, thirsty for knowledge of its pupil.
"Of Immortal and Man
Time, while so fluid in my library, crawled by without cease in the world of men and women. Like an unstoppable force, it moved from one moment to the next, dragging everything with it. As everything came, so did everything came to pass, except for history, which was forever sealed. 'Ahead lays the possible, with me the tangible, and behind me the unchangeable.' Wise words, from a wise man. They were the words of Adagnites', founder of the school of the Arcane in Remestes, as he held the blade twisted between his ribs that would spell the end of his story. The future, he knew, was uncertain, but that moment, his blood, and everything he had done, would carry on into this future, whatever it would be. Four disciples, he had had, and four murderers, he found himself surrounded by. Adagnites died because his disciples were afraid of him, because they detested him, and most of all, because they no longer needed him. Their god had gifted them the knowledge they had fought so long to possess, and with the power of the arcane, their ambitions became reality.
The naive king of Remestes surrendered in fear to these four mages, and they declared that filth, like the king, like all those without the power of the arcane, were not worthy of being called citizens of Remestes, the seat of the world's learning. They, as the four most powerful, would rule wisely over the city, and their kin of magical blood would do so with them. The animals, as they referred to the magically inept that had once considered them equals, were to perform tasks fit for animals only. And so it was that a minority came to possess great might over the majority, not by right to rule, but through fear. This, however, did not please the newly born Arcane Council, and they started looking beyond Remestes.
And beyond Remestes lay Lessites, with their king Testones. This king, still in his early years, had found that the two cities of his young kingdom had been connected by his god, who had walked a straight path across the unruly seas. This strip of land, on which three majestic mountains rose, would serve as a testimony of the divine right and power of his nation. More than that, it would truly serve his people. For, so he reasoned, a kingdom was beyond the scope of the city-state Lessites had once been, and for him to be able to aptly rule both cities as well as expand into the rest of the world, he had to make whole that which was now but a collection of parts. With a genius of his own instead of that of the artifact sword he wielded, he called the best architects of his court to his aid, and he ordered the construction of a road straight between the two cities, across this strip of land. As his people toiled against the weather and years passed, even the mountains would have to yield for the infrastructure of his kingdom, and when the last stone was laid, he had started to grow his first grey hairs.
The road between Lessites and Testonea was so sturdy, so efficiently laid, that it took his chariot but a week to cross between the islands, and he was welcomed as a triumphant general. Yet the once young king found little pleasure in his greatest achievement, remembering what Lightning, the sword that so faithfully hung by his side, had told him years ago. Hakkaros, the Lord of War, had demanded that Testones would add this deity to the pantheon of his city. Testones, at the time, had decided to wait and see what time would bring. Now, years later, he had made his decision. During a night of turmoil and storm, he kneeled in Wieland's temple in Lessites, the same temple where he had once decreed that inhospitability was a sin punishable by death, and prayed. It was not to his god, but to Hakkaros, that his words went. "Not directly for you, but to further the strength of my people, would I conquer the world if I could. Not to prove my power, nor to suppress, but in the name of strive and strength would I wage war. I see the art, and with your help, I have planned many years ahead, have grown into a strong leader and general. Yet your request, I must refuse. I do not demand easy victories, nor do I pray for weapons that can not be destroyed, Lord of War, but I do pray for the obstacle that has to be conquered. How can I conquer, if there is nothing to be conquered? Hakkaros, before my conquest makes sense, and I can pass my strength of heart and wits on, as I believe is your true intent, I need an heir. Yet no woman worthy to be conquered has shown herself, no woman worthy to bear my children has presented herself. Hakkaros, do not give me a victory, but an opportunity to emerge victorious, and I shall spread your word and wage the war this world needs." With these words, the king got to his feet, and left the darkness of the temple behind him.
Daemos had heard Hakkaros' words, and he had spoken. More and more berserkers joined his army in Hakkaros' name, and with them, they brought even more enthusiasm. It was during the annual celebration of Delatheia's marriage to Hakkaros that Daemos thought back of the doubt his people had felt after their defeat, as they pondered Delatheia's inactivity and wondered whether their goddess had abandoned them. Then, she brought home her spouse, her ally, the god of war, and they knew that Delatheia had looked out for her people, and that Karestria was destined to do great things. Now, Daemos had grown older. His hair was grey, and his body was sometimes beset by a crippling cough. Despite this, he had bested even some of the strongest berserkers in personal battle, and he had trained Karestria's armies into a disciplined and cohesive force. He knew that Heleph and Nessaiie had done the same, and that they were without doubt preparing for war all the same, but Daemos knew that a good warrior's true wife was patience. Glory was a small thing, a thing that could fade, but victories could not, for a victor held power. The king of Karestria had forsaken glory in favor of victory, and he knew that the time to strike was close.
A messenger entered his throne room, and Daemos snapped out of his thoughts, turning around slowly. According to the apparel, this was a Helephian. They had been responsible for the needless defeat near Nessaiie, and most Karestrians hated them and their goddess, as well as their undead overlord. This man was one of Ka'er-Thul's personal servants, and the message he had carried to the king was no less than insulting. "Daemos of Karestria, surrender your people and your lands to the might of Ka'er-Thul, or face extinction. Ka'er-Thul is willing to be lenient, but your execution will be in public, so that Yahkuz may personally claim your soul for punishment, as you violated his divine will." Daemos, in response, drew his sword. "Let me see whether the words of your master are as strong as your sword arm." The fight lasted several minutes, and Daemos finished his opponent by chopping off his left hand. Ordering the wound cauterized, he sent him out of his court with the following words: "Return to your master, puppet, and tell him that Karestria is waiting."
With a howl the Hounds of War jumped aboard the Helephian escort. The vessel had been protecting a merchant ship on its way to Keluss, where it would unload its wares of exotic skins in exchange for raw bog iron. The council of Nessaiie realized that Heleph had acted in self-interest when it saved the city-state from impending destruction, and that the war was one between three opposing factions, not two. This trade route, vital to Heleph's material supplies, had now become a primary target and training ground for Nessaiie's finest. Born and raised for war, these warriors were the elite of Nessaiie's warrior class, devoted so strongly to Hakkaros that they learned to shrug off pain and endured the most demanding of training regimes to perfect themselves in the art of war. Each of them was accompanied by a Nessaiian Mastiff, raised and bred to be the finest war-dogs in the region. These animals and their masters did not fight in a formation, instead acting as shock troops to break those of others. Naturally, they performed extremely well when fighting man to man, and best in a charge.
They painted the Helephian vessel red with blood, striking down its detachment of soldiers with relative ease. Of course some berserkers did die – but there was no greater honour than to die in battle by sword or spear. The merchants surrendered, but the Nessaiians showed no mercy. With several strong strokes of their sailors, their vessel set ramming course on the merchant vessel's side. With a crack as strong as thunder, the mounted ram made quick work of the vessel and it shattered in two, merchandise and crew spilling into the water. The Hounds of War howled in victory, their four-footed allies joining in. As their enemies cried for mercy; as they cried to be saved from the waves, the Nessaiians tied the conquered escort vessel to their own, and sailed off with their trophy. If it would be up to the Nessaiians, the Helephians and their new rotting overlords would find themselves at the bottom of the mighty oceans, and the Karestrians would soon follow suit.
In contrast to the eternal feud across the seas, two peoples managed to set aside their ancient differences and drew a line. Where swamp and marshes ended and steppes began, so did Keluss desist on its claim over Hiate. Where horses could barely tread, there the Astineiians turned around to return to their lands. Inspired by the words of their gods, these two peoples had seen sense in peace, knowing that their enemy lived across the mountains. They traded the goods they had once sought to gain through war, and, even to their own surprise, found that they prospered. Eventually, their armies began practicing together to form into a cohesive fighting force where Keluss provided the infantry and Astinos the cavalry. After much deliberation, they decided to send out spies to the west, and they learned of the developments of the Talassani. The Enforcers guarded the borders of these two now allied nations closely, and as Astinos slowly recovered from its years of internal war, Keluss started constructing buildings of the most beautifully colored wood, which had started growing in the marshes. Even though they praised the sturdiness of the wood and the beauty of its colors, some wondered where it had come from, and whether there was a meaning behind its appearance. Few knew that, in reality, they were the creation of Radiant Sarthisyn.
What was not any god's creation, was the Rittik. The Rittik, a creature born from the shadows of the spirit world, had escaped through the tear in realities left behind by the Banshee, and it now roamed the steppes of Hiate, where it preyed on the beautiful. Truly a perversion of beauty, the creature went by many faces, different for each beholder, but always an object of their love. Instead of eyes, two dark sockets stared back at its victims as it ripped them apart with mandibles and claws. Besides its face, it was covered in chitin and like its smaller insect kin bore countless limbs and appendages. It fed on the faces of its victims, ravaging their beauty to leave behind a gruesome mask of gore. Unlike one would expect of a creature of its kind, there was no further ritual, no further interaction with its prey but the kill and the feast. The beast burrowed itself in the grasslands and simply waited for someone of beauty to pass by, no matter how long this would take. When such a person did appear, it would burrow through the ground, producing the 'rittikrittikrittik' after which it was named, and strike swiftly. Most victims did not even see its horrifying face, but those who did were frozen in fear. This fear spread, and the Astineiians and the Kelussian traders alike learned to hate the Rittik.
Umeran, son of Malbran, sat upon his throne in silence. The crown upon his head weighed down on him heavily, but he knew that he would not fail the duty Galadrin had first given Malbran, and now him. Malbran had died in his sleep: After many years of loyal servitude, their lord had finally taken him home. Umeran thought back on Malbran's many accomplishments. After leading the Talassani to greatness and uniting those to the west of the Vein under his divinely just rule, Malbran had founded a second city to the north, where the large river of that area split into two and carried on to the seas. This was a fertile land, and the city had been named after Umeran's mother, Delephia, who had been fertile enough to gift him one talented son. Malbran, in his devout endeavors, had been so strong of will that even the natural world bowed before him, and he had performed many a miracle in Galadrin's name. Despite all the praise and the rumor that Malbran himself was a god, he had continued to spread the word of Galadrin, and of those living to the west of the Vein, few were not a part of the burgeoning empire. Malbran had learned of the barbarians to the East who took his lord's name in vain, and he had raised an order to defend his people and his deity: the Order of the Mace. Given almost complete power to act, this militant order punished heretics and trained to one day lead the Talassian armies against the barbarians. The Lord High Priest was their ultimate commander, and the Morning Lord their source of strength. Despite the horrific acts this order committed against those opposing them, they were completely free of the corruption that usually plagued such military units, and their devotion enabled them to draw on the magic of will that Radiant Sarthisyn had created. With their crested helmets and eventually literally illuminating features, they became like the light their god had given upon them. Umeran sighed, and got to his feet. He too was an intelligent man, but he was still far from being what his father had been. As he left the throneroom and bowed his head respectfully to Galadrin's idol, he gathered a council with the commanding officers of the order.
On the opposite side of this coin of light rested darkness. Heleph, a city once known for its culture, had buckled under Ka'er-Thul. Surrounded by slaves and his chosen servants, the prophet lich-king had turned the city into a well-oiled machine. Uprising was all but forgotten, and to remind its ruler of the underworld, its once white structures had been painted pitch black. The Apprentice stood on top of the city walls. He had scaled those walls and despite the years behind him, still looked like a man in his prime. Some knowledge he had not, but of all mortal men, he knew most, and even that he knew. He descended from the walls, and made his way through the city. His apparell of white cloth and black leather drew the attention of the putrid populace quickly, as did the three amulets he wore around his neck. Standing below the stairs of the palace, he called for his adversary. "Ka'er-Thul, I have come to claim your might. Face me, and become a servant like those you so desperately oppress." The doors opened slowly, and eventually the dreaded king stood above the stairs, wearing the thickest black, hands folded neatly behind his back. "Who dares challenge us? Who dares speak the name of the king of Heleph, of us, the chosen of Yahkuz?" His eyes came to rest on the young man who stood below, and he recognized the trinkets the stranger wore. Truly unlike figures of the epics, he simply started the battle, descending the stairs with a rapid speed in a monstrous rage.
An army marged in as the battle raged on and even the Apprentice with all his knowledge and power could not defeat them. Ka'er-Thul was stronger than his kin, had amassed both material and arcane power, and even so close to freedom, his servants feared him too much to turn against him. For the first time, the Apprentice had made a miscalculation, and despite the fire he wielded, the death he caused, he felt the vile magic of Yahkuz' prophet draining his strength, his health. He withered, and the pain became unbearable. Striking down a spearman, he watched in disgust as necrosis set in on his arms. A sword pierced his back and his lung, and he knew himself bested. Ka'er-Thul laughed victoriously, a sound not unlike the rattling of old bones, and stood over his foe. The Apprentice smiled, closed his eyes, and spoke an incantation."
The Keeper closed the book, knowing the rest of the chapter, knowing where its student had gone and what he would find there. It knew not, however, the future. The future was for the gods to shape, whereas it merely organized its master's records. Blowing out a candle, it went to do its work in the damp darkness of the library.
Adagnites' disciples slay him, depose the king of Remestes and set up the 'Arcane Council'.The Arcane Council is made up of the four most powerful mages in one of the four schools of the arcane. They have the power to make laws and command Remestes' military. They can be deposed if another person can prove to be better in their field. One person can not claim multiple seats on the council. When one person is deemed the most talented in more than one of the four schools, the next applicable person takes up one of the seats.
Testones would gladly conquer the world, for it is there to conquer. However, his work should not be in vain to his ambitious name. There is no woman worthy for Testones to conquer, and since there is no worthy woman, he has no heir. So then what sense would there be for Testones to worship Hakkaros if Hakkaros does not provide him with the challenge he seeks?
Nessaiie's Hounds of War consists of a group of berserkers who are each zealously devouted to Hakkaros. Every one of them is accompanied by a huge war dog, specially bred and selected for the task. They generally wear blood red, and it is forbidden for them to marry.
The Rittik is named after the sound it makes when it burrows. It is a large creature, covered in chitin. As it moves the chitin covers of its various body-parts rub against each other, producing its typical sound. Despite its eight legs and monstrous insectoid appearance, it possesses a human face, which, for the beholder, looks like someone they love. The Rittik does not actually see, as its eyes seem to have been poked out. The Rittik eats solely the faces of its victims, and only kills those who are said to be beautiful.
The Order of the Mace consists of men who are highly devout to Galadrin. They are tasked with the defense of Galadrin's Holy Empire, and their helmets are adorned with a crest of the rising sun in leaf gold. Members of the Order are subjected to extremes in training and preparation for war, and they enjoy almost absolute sovereignty in their actions, with the only person to whom they shall answer being the Lord High Priest of Galadrin's Empire. Their extreme devotion results in almost all of them being able to make use of Radiant Sarthisyn's Flame.
(Atilliano) Deletheia: 3 Essence
(Azthor) The Archspawn: 3 Essence
(Fniff) Nambe: 3 Essence
(Ghazkull) Wieland: 3 Essence
(gman8181) Ode: 3 Essence
(Harbingerjm) Radiant Sarthisyn: 2 Essence
(ragnarok97071) Magnus: 3 Essence
(Shootandrun) Hakkaros: 3 Essence
(Vagel7) Yahkuz: 2 Essence
