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View Full Version : The Southerly lands of Tolarus and Tonarath, tales of a world



QED - Iltazyara
2013-12-22, 07:25 PM
Well, here I am again. I guess. I told myself a while ago I’d make another post when I hit 30k words in my word file, and here I am. (I am cheating and counting technical information, but that’s about 2k words total.) In the word document I’m using to build the posts it says I have 20k words, which I guess is plenty. Or maybe even too many.
So, once more with feeling. The feeling that I’m going to be hitting post size limits. A lot.

I do somewhat regret having to multi-post in my own thread, but I had hardly any choice. Chapter 1 was at 49k characters by itself, hardly going to fit into one post.

Introduction
“As stories go, this is one of great importance; yet of little event, few names and no grand quest. Long, long ago, before the turning of the ages, before the Infinity Gate opened, this world was but one among thousands, amongst millions.”

“Reanven! Reanven it was called, land of four races. One Majestic and proud, one Wise and wilful, one Wild and ferocious, one Faithful and serene. The four races lived together, not in harmony; but at peace, each living as they would if the others did not exist, simply existing in the ways they saw fit.”
“At the last it came to conflict, a transgression by the Wise into the lands of the Wild, turning wilderness to cities, riled the ferocious beasts and men of the wild lands. They fought back, seeking to take back what they had lost; but they were no match for the civilised Wise. They turned to the Faithful for aid, begging to a miracle to bring back their lost lands; their cries were answered.”
“For the first time the Godless world of Reanven had a God, but it was not meant to be. Reanven had no place for gods, no way to shield them for the Outside, that which lies Beyond. The corruption began to seep into the world through the hole the God made in the world, the balance between the races fell to pieces and the races fell into a world-wide war.”
“It may have last centuries, perhaps only days; but the Faithful saw what they had done and looked for a solution. They found one, one with unforeseen consequences. The Faithful assembled at their Sacred Mountain, the place where they first built their home in the earliest days of Reanven. And there, they removed themselves from history, from the first faithful born so long ago, to the eldest dagger in hand leading the ritual, they all vanished from reality.”
“The god ceased to be, the corruption, never having been able to enter Reanven, vanished, the war undid itself. The world was a balance once more, but where there should have been four, there were now three. One quarter of the world crumbled to dust, the essence of Reanven spilling out into the void between worlds. The very veil that separates Here and Beyond fractured, and Reanven fell through.”
“Time does not exist Beyond the veil of reality, nothing does, only emptiness that may be shaped by the twisted dreams of what was cast from the waking worlds by their creators exists here. Reanven was alone, once one among many, now lost and alone, injured and crying, it called for help. Many things heard its call, from Things unknowable and tainted, to the streak of Silver that was Shess, finding safe haven in the darkness he had been trapped in.”
“Our world has been reborn, not as it was, but as it can be. Reanven survives, as a shadow of its former self, bound together by unearthly means and the work of thirty six gods and their servants.” The Origins of our World, text dating from the Age of Immortals

“These archives are to be made and maintained after my passing. I, the first Crescent Mage of Tolara, leave the task of recording all history, creatures and gods that are found as my people leave our homeland. May you live well and prosper for all eternity.” Last writings of Armenus Tertalli, the first Crescent Mage, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“As the sixth age passes and the seventh begins the skies lighten, dawn comes shifter, sounds are sharper and life seems… Cheerful. The Age of Demons has past, know the Age of Dreams has come at last, may the dream never fade.” Oracles of Seralis, the thirteenth order, on the first day of the Age of Dreams

“An age is what an age will be, long or short, slow or swift, eventful or not. Even as ages come and go we know not their meaning, only the names that may be read from the stars.” Oracles of Seralis, the first order, in the second century of the Age of Elders

“The world moves on, no matter the price in blood, in souls, in life or sorrow.” Shess, The World God, at the end of the Age of Demons

“Though the skies themselves do tremble, excitement fills the world. A point of no return is reached, the world will become greater than it ever was, or it will fall, cast down into shadow as the essence of reality crumbles around a few scant refuges.
But from here on the path is set, for good or ill the fate of the world is seal. And it exalts knowing the struggle of eons shall come to an end, with life or death. Only time will tell.” Melias, the Wanderer, in the Age of Demons

Author’s Note
“I have compiled all I know, all I can know of my homeland into these few, scant pages. Volumes could hardly do justice to the history of this land, but there is always more to record, more to recount in the annals of history. So be it that I, the Shadow Sage Limpeh, record the Second Celestial Archive to be guarded by the Gods of Knowledge until time ends once again.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Shadows

QED - Iltazyara
2013-12-22, 07:26 PM
Races are possibly what I work on the most, both in deciding what ones I want and how they fit in the region. You can’t just throw a dozen races together and expect them to work. Any meeting between individuals with differences will need to some dynamic forming, although hostility is common it isn’t necessary. I feel I reflect a somewhat dynamic set of relationships in this chapter.

Chapter 1: Races
There are sixteen races in the lands of Tolarus and Tonarath, and three distinctive cultures that set the people of those lands, though of the same race, apart. From the open and free Marayan peoples of Elemaray to the stiff, prim and perfect elves of Yivith there are many cultures in these southerly lands.
Each race has their own powers, strengths, and of course, weaknesses. No one race is the best at anything without paying the cost in another way. Though the Elves may be great spellcasters, capable of great feats of magic, they are likely to fall ill and die if assaulted by the mildest of breezes.

Marayan
“Your coming was spoken of by the river, go down the river, follow it until it reaches the sea, the tide will turn low and the city will be open to you. The Elrun will be watching, waiting, hoping.” Elruni to the Marayan migrants, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“You speak wrongly mortal, I am not the god of this river, I AM this river. I am its heart, its soul, I am the spring from which it blooms, the ocean it feeds, the fish that swim it. And more than that, I am the people who live upon it, so do not mistake me for what I am not. Never anger the river, for angering the river is to anger me.” Tantrei, to the Marayan migrants, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Some form of leadership has always existed where people come together, kings, tyrants, churches, councils, elders, war chiefs. I feel we must have something, some gathering that guides us. I say we have a Council of Rivers, where each town, each church, each people has a voice in this city, where the fate of our riverlands is decided.” First speaker of the Council of Rivers, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“The city of Elemaray; it rivals even Dira Imperia in its majesty, canals take the place of streets, ferries and barges the place of cart and horse. That this place was found, not built, speaks of the history of these lands, some race must have ruled here before humans came.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Look to the east, there we have friends, look to the south, there we have allies, look to the north, there we have companions. Look all around you, where are the friends of Rolan, its allies, its fellow peoples? Nowhere, for while Elemaray stands strong Rolan festers in solitude.” Council of Rivers missive to the Hall of Alandras, in the sixth century of the age of Dreams.

“There is little to say of the peoples who live south of us, on the continent. The ‘Maray’ are hedonistic savages, indulging in freedoms none can afford, during my visit to their capital a festival occurred. Women danced in little more than night wear, men brutishly show off muscles in sparring matches without weapons. I suspect even mind effecting magics and drugs, made to incite pleasure at the expense of rationality were in use. And at the heart of it all, a religion based on two twin sisters, twin sisters who are lovers! Merchant ties are inevitable, but deep relations should never be developed with these black haired, tan skinned Maray.” Patirus Aquilus, the sixth Crescent, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“Rarely is there a time where it is wrong to celebrate, for life is for living, not working every day.” Marayan saying
“The Maray, in ancient times, were a sacred people. They bred true and cleanly, with health above that of other humans. In reality they simply had wise elders and were of the humans who first worshipped Neri, the long since dead first daughter of Shess.
She gave them knowledge, completeness, and so much more. Contentment in a time of little, of life under the shadow of those much greater. They remember her no more, but in ways her legacy lives on, for her exaltation in all parts of life continues. Even to extremes that can hardly be supported anymore.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Shadows


Benari Dwarves
“The Orcish hordes have been split in two, a spearhead of steel plated warriors crashed through them little more than a ten day ago. More than five thousand of them, bringing wagons carrying forges, artillery and uncountable quantities of mining tools. The villages who they approached were thankful, unsurprisingly, and responded willingly to their questions. The villagers seem to be truthful when they say the warriors asked of the greatest mines of the land, for all reports state they headed northward, towards the mountains of Bernard.” Rolani spy, on the dwarven immigration, in the third century of the Age of Dreams
“Indeed, we want little more than the mountains upon which you stand. Hardly look used, so why’re you complaining so much?” Dwarf to a Rolan mine owner, in the Dwarf – Rolani war, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“We have too many enemies. These dwarves are not aggressive, they do not even attack our miners; it is best we leave them alone before they bring war to us. For Alandras help the northern towns if they do.” Rolani commander, to the Hall of Alandras, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“Tolarans? The hell are they, some kind of turnip? Well, if you want steel, we have it, if you want gems we probably have those too. Magic’s another thing. That we will buy, so got any spells, mortal?” Dwarven smith to a Tolaran merchant, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“The metal benders have taken home in the broken hills. Though they are no friends of the foal thieves they take our people to sell as though a hide, an ornate stone. They care not for others, only their own greed, slave owners they may not be, but slave taking cowards they are.” Elder of the Ting-Tar tribe of Centaur, to Irania Staln, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Some say the Nani of the Bernard Mountains are uncultured, lacking in morals, manners and common sense. But they simply pride themselves on other things, wealth, skill in their chosen craft and prowess in their sacred courtship duels. They have a secretive culture that is hard to notice, subtle in its blatant, outspokenly honest way, one simply has to look beneath the surface.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Never cross a dwarf, or they may decide to make a cross out of you. Literally.” Marayan merchant saying

“Benar hold is a fine one, good mines and trade, enough goblins to have a good bashing, but not too many to be a nuisance. Hell, even the neighbours, those god-mad Rolani, the funky nature loving horse-men and the river washed Maray are usually up for a good haggle or scuffle.” Belin Dovorkus, spoken while sitting atop a pile of knocked out tavern goers, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams
“The Dwarves of Benar have a long history, one of millennia of travel, of displacement and renewal. From the Lapirdum Mountains they came, from Forgehold Adurn. There they had lived for three generations; five hundred years. But, at an end they moved on, as they always have.

As Adurn was established from Kalan, Kalan from Gormard, Gormard from Artur, and Artur from Anis itself. For dwarves always move on, when times are hard and plenty gone, they move on to lands anew. Again and again, with no end.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Shadows

Rocasan Half-Elves
“It was four hundred years ago we fled the forest, we fled Yivith as the Demons poured forth from the arcane sanctuaries and sacred places within. Every tear in the ley, every spell cast, every whisper of magic, they hunted it incessantly. But in truth they were not the demons we know, those beings of the hells, damned creatures that happily wreak panic and despair amongst mortals. No, from the forest poured forth things that were beyond understanding, everything in their path obliterated, eaten and removed. We fled the unending tide, seeking refuge in the high mountains, and so the forest was lost. We abandoned our goddess, and the gods abandoned us. Seek forgiveness, children.” Last words of the Final Elder of Rocasa, in the third century of the Age of Seven

“We honour the gods, any god who may listen, for they are the protectors and guardians of this world. They serve us all just as they serve themselves, praise be to the divine, holy and unholy, great and small, mighty and weak. Praise be to those who are seated above us all.” Rocasan prayer, originating from the third century of the Age of Dreams

“I took them under my wing because they seek forgiveness of sins not theirs, I will not hold them responsible for acts beyond the knowledge of any mortal.” Alimah to Nalan, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“Fledglings who abandon their mother to death commit themselves to self-destruction. Of the forest they are no more, of the Elder Race they are no more. Let them rot in those hills, abandoned for all time, to die alone and crying for forgiveness they will never receive.” Nalan to Alimah, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“The mountains and people of Rocasa are peaceful like no others in Tonarath, great beasts peacefully watching us as we pass by. No aggression, no anger, no danger. This place is serene, almost tranquil, like everything moves as a part of some endless dance of life, with each player understanding their role perfectly. I look forward to meeting the fabled Oracles of Seralis, who could be said to rule this place from high atop the peaks.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“The Half-Elves have existed as long as the Elves have known other races, but rarely as a people, and never as a nation in their own right. Well, while the elves still remained this was true at least.
Now the half-elves, the descendants of Yivithi dalliances with humans, dwarves and centaurs, they are the people of sacred Rocasa now. Once revered for being the reclusive place of ancient immortals like Seralis, Carnea and Hovara, it is now the home for all those displaced by the fall of the elves in Tonarath. For when they fell their children were left behind, those that did not die fled the creatures that hunted them, to the mountains and the safety they offered. And there they remain to this day.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Shadow

“Every drop of rain, every breeze in the wind, every leaf that falls, every spell cast, every child born. All things should remind us of what we abandoned when we fled, we should have fought, stayed. Better to die proud than to run from our ancestral home, to flee into undeserved safety, while those less fortunate are left to die in the ashes of our folly.” Elven refugee, in the Age of Seven

Tonarath Half-Orcs
“Orcs have long been a problem throughout the lands of Tonarath, but in recent years great hordes have been gathering in the East, in the Lapicor Mountains. I worry what this says of the future of the Bastion of Rolanary, even now I see those elves who live amongst us fleeing back into their forests.” Unknown scholar, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“You are a half orc, but you saved my life by getting me out of that cage, why?” “Because I’m stupid, like a pig. Not foolish, like a human. They find me, they stew me in a pot, same as you.” Heath and Agnar, during the Invasion of the Olruk Horde, in the Seventh century of the Age of Dreams
“Orcs are like pigs, dumb, stupid, eat anything, but have good muscle and hardly complain if you hit them.” Rolani saying

“The orcs come in hordes, raping and pillaging across eastern Rolan every generation or so. It’s hardly a surprise there is rarely a lack of half orc slaves. Especially with how the dominant the males get in the breeding pens, hardly fair on the slave girls really.” Rolani slaver, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“To see the horrors the Rolani commit upon these ‘Half-Orcs’ is unsettling; not only do they do this to other races, they commit the horrors upon those descended from their own people. I warn the court, it is best not to deal with the savages of Rolan, it will never be worth the risks.” Tolaran spy, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“We will avoid your lands if you avoid ours. Gargan in ours, now and always, we will not be taken as slaves by humans again.” Half-Orc war leader, to the Council of Rivers, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“Their demands were odd, honourable council, they sought the ruins of the Gargan Keep as their own, along with the wilderness for two hundred miles around. There is nothing there, simple grassland, no riches, no women, nothing.” Message carrier, to the Council of Rivers, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“As far as can be told there have been half orcs in Tonarath as long as there have been orcs, more than a millennia. From some of the older scrolls brought during the exodus from Rolan we can see that they were not always disliked, or tensions between humans and orcs so strong. Some rising god taught the orcs to wage war upon all life, humans just happened to be nearby. And that spelled the end of the tenuous relations between Rolan and the innumerable orcs of Lapicor, turning instead to outright war.” Marayan archive keeper, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“We are not all brutes, uncultured and stupid, we are not orcs in heart body and soul. No, we are betwixt two peoples, strong and stupid many of us may be, but not all.” Talcra Fire Blood, speaking to an arrayed Rolani force, before raining hellfire down upon them, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Half-Orcs, the misbegotten children of the orcs of Lapirdum and whatever they can find. Goblins and humans, they are most common, in one they become leaders, dominant and strong. In the other they are shunned, seen as pathetic, a reminder of a threat and danger. But they never remain with their fathers, or, at least, those that do never survive. Half-orcs are a sad race, for they are often hated by mother and father, by one for being too strong, by the other for being too weak.” Rolani scholar, from the third century of the Age of Seven

“It is unwise to anger an orc blood, we do not have the patience for grudges. It is simply unleashed in the moment. The heat, rage and passion let free it but an instant of anger.” Agnar, speaking to a Rolani slaver, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Orgal is not our god. Alandras is not our god. None of these gods will take on the orc blood, who can we pray to? The world. Pray to the world, all things, for one day something will answer, have faith, for something has faith in each of us.” Half-Orc cleric, pondering his godless people, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams
Fox Child
“There are children born of most unholy union, beast has done unto woman what man should do unto woman. The foxes, the tricksters and misleading shape changers who would mislead the pure have born, and sired, child with the true humans of Rolan! The children of the accursed foxes are to be given unto the Holy Church of Alandras, or put to the sword if travel to the church cannot be made.
For Alandras we shall remain pure, to remove the sin of other races, to keep ourselves as the One True Human People! Long may Rolan Rule!” Proclamation of the Inquisitor of the Hall, in the fifth century of the age of Dreams

“I met several of the Fox Children as I stayed with the Fox-Folk of Rolan. They were like the others of the Vulpes Vulgares in almost all ways, save the slight envy in their eyes when the Vulpes would take on vulpine form. I was told they were children of unions between the Vulpes and the Maray, here at least. But elsewhere there were more variations. Are the Vulpes Vulgares like our own Sacred Maidens, able to bear child with any, and only give birth to those like themselves? Perhaps, but as yet I still do not know.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Our children we bear out of love, our kits we carry on for a decade, but the little children of others we carry are something more. Joy in their eyes, hope we lost long ago, little ones so full of life it makes my long life worth the wait. Maybe they will even seek to return to the place we left long ago” Eldara, Seven Tails of the Fox-Folk, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“Bloody foxes get into everything. I mean, they’re a fair hand at magic, pretty good for a laugh, even tolerable when working metal. But by the gods, how the hell do they get into everything like they do? We lock the vaults, they sneak in to nap on a mountain of gold, but not steal it. And now they’ve even got into our families! A young dwarven lass took fancy to one of them, apparently they did the deed and she got with kid. Well, now we have a damn fox-dwarf running around! That ain’t natural, not natural at all.” Dwarven family elder, in the fifth century of the age of Dreams

“The dalliances of the fox-folk with the common folk has been documented since not long after their arrival in the second century of the Age of Dreams. And yet, until the fifth century, not a single fox-child is mentioned. Was there some barrenness upon them, some requirement to be met?
It seems to have come about with the harvests in the Elan province, as they fox-folk have been more unpredictable than ever near harvest time in the last hundred years. The occurrences seem to relate to each other, though what connection can be made I am unable to fathom.” Maray record keeper, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“My mother blesses her daughters, to us all she gives a second chance, forgiveness from grandmother, forgiveness of the gods of old. Rejoice, seekers of the flame, for we are one with the world again, given the blessings Harvest Fox.” Airuna, the Seeker of the Flame, in the fifth century of the Age of dreams

Elan River Maidens
“Ah, the river maidens, they seem strange to you? I find them to be a simple part of life, liken to fish in water, birds in the air, or elephants on land. Of course watching the river maidens is usually more enjoyable than watching fish or birds, there is so much more to see after all.” Marayan fisherman, to Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“They swim like fish, but look like women, with how they look and how long the Maray spend upon that river it is of little surprise that they are such a perverse people.” Velven Winnisect, Rolani merchant, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“Though my love may live on land I am comforted upon the river, little reason to return, little reason to leave. Torn between land and river, there is little respite for a fisherman like me.” Marayan fisherman’s tale, from the third century of the Age of Dreams

“They are human at first glance, but webbed toes, graceful fins, pale skin and unearthly hair, it all gives it away. They are not quite human, and not a one male, almost uncanny in their appearance they remain beautiful and bewitching. Men fall victim to their charms every year, much to the dismay of their wives. Maybe the Elruni tales about the ‘River Sprites’ who spirit men away has some base in truth.” First head of the Riverfarers Guild, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Haha, I’ve had my fun, I’m off upstream to find another one with which to play, I’m personally not bothered to leave or stay, but that one wants me to stay away!” River maiden to a raftsman, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“Long ago the Ocean Kings swam the river Ela, to visit the Forest Kings to renew pact and oath. On their way they met many a man, many a woman. Humans who lived along the shore of the great river, who fished and hunted to survive. But the Ocean Kings and their Queens grew curious of those that toiled on the shore, taking them into the water to examine them more closely. The most beautiful of all were spared by the Ocean Kings, who saved their lives as they drowned below the rivers surface.” [/SIZE]Origin of the Elan River Maidens, from the Age of Elders[/SIZE]

Vulpes Vulgares
“The Vulpes Vulgares are newcomers to Tonarath, much as we are, they came following their Goddess Airuna, but they are no older than us in this land. There a likely secrets to be learned from them, they speak of a Sanctuary, a place sealed from the rest of the world. A place untouched by the demon wars. Why they would leave such a place I do not know.” Silvia Kalia Mirarva the fourth Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Across the desert, made to walk alone, only to take the water we could carry. The Walkers watched us, each one of us, only those who walked alone crossed alive. Beyond the mountains we were told to go, beset by cold, dragons and demons we lost thousands of our people. We walked through the wilds, fighting trolls, demons and disease every step of the way. Now we are here, in these empty fields, and I cannot see the home we were promised, no sanctuary, no safety, no peace.” Magical recording, inscribed into a tree of Hamalia grove, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“The fox-folk are peculiar, one moment he was a man working alongside us for no reason other than to learn. The next she was a woman dancing atop the tower we are building. And all the same, it is the same fox, just the one, I honestly do not know what to think.” Marayan builder, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“As amusing as you might think it is, I do not find it so. Yes it was rather impressive, the whole giant paper rabbit falling on my head, but do you really think it was necessary, especially the pink paint?” Lady Vespelia, Dragon of the Vespelian Mountains, to a band of guilty looking Vulpes, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“Never trust a fox. I would know, I am one.” Common Vulpes saying

“It is sad we don’t remember where we came from, or how we came to be here, but these riverlands are now our home, and the Marayans our friends. Though some of them may not wish to be our friends, poor them.” Vulpes trickster, to Irania Staln, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“The answers to your questions are simple, raspberries, seventeen days hence, third door on the right. Good luck, we look forward to the Archpriest’s reaction. Damn Rolani has it coming to him.” Oracles of Seralis, to a Nathaly, a Vulpes Sorcerer, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“When born a Vulpes Vulgares is a kit, a small fox with little on its mind except playing, feeding and running around. They remain in the form of a fox until their tenth year, when they grow a second tail, and the ability to change their shape. It was a most peculiar thing, watching a kit suckle at a humanoid woman’s teat, but mother and child hold a bond that transcends physical form.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“I am not sure why but the fox-folk all become somewhat giddy around the harvest, even more personable and friendly than normal. And to any of you buggers who are thinking of exploiting their friendliness I would like to remind you of something. Don’t think you’re all that luck if a pretty one starts paying attention to you. ‘tis just as likely the one you’re making friends to is a man, ‘cause they really don’t seem to get the differences between man and women other than the bits between the legs.” Tavern patron, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

Rolani
“We are the true rulers of the South, the Holy People of Alandras; the True God. Never think that those who we fight, that those we take to serve in the fields are alive. They are mere beasts; no, worse than beasts, they are the spawn of the dark gods, the destroyers and usurpers of the realms. So, to all you would be heroes! Go forth, seek riches and glory, bring about the fall of the false creatures and bring them to kneel before the Holy Realm of Rolan!” Word of the Archpriest of Alandras, issued to all of Rolan, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“We are beset on all sides by forces of demons, to the south the ‘elves’ emerge from the shadows to slaughter our foresters. In the east the ever present Orcish hordes threaten to pillage our land and rape our women. In the north the half-men, the ‘dwarves’ steal the riches of the Mountains of Bernard from beneath our feet. And of course, in the west, the Rocasans sing praise to their false gods, twisting the minds of our fellow humans, the Maray. We only survive because of heroes, heroes who fight a battle no to survive, but only to win, to bring down those who threaten the Bastion of Humanity.” Alexia Davos, thirty third Lord of Tepe, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“It was during the first years of the Demon War that the church of Alandras began to take such a hold over fair Rolan, corrupting its people and fuelling a xenophobia that lasts to this day. Once I would have been proud to be of Rolanary, now I suspect my death will be swift, brought about by my refusal to worship such a cruel and demanding god.” Aves Doman, heretic traitor, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“My tour of the southerlands took me into a land known as ‘Rolanary’, they call it the bastion of humanity, but all I can see are slaves, thousands upon thousands of slaves. Half-elves, centaur, merfolk, dwarves, orcs, kitsune, even other humans. None seem to escape the chain, I have even been attacked by so called ‘heroes’ over my manner of dress! I will not dally long in this place, next I shall go to the Centaur tribes of the Plains of Maray.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“I am Heath, slayer of the black dragon Dardromze, defeater of the hordes of Olruk; but today I speak here, against the church. Agnar was taken prisoner from within my camp, a half-orc yes, but he both saved my life and those of thousands more. I will not see him sold to some lord as slave, either accept him as mine, or let him free.” Heath, Holy Dragonslayer, to the Hall of Alandras, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Orcs are but one of the many dangers that faces the land of Rolanary. In both the Lapirdum Mountains and the Forest of Yivith reside dragons, a great number of them. The older, more deadly ones protect their territory fiercely, but are far from fair Rolan. It is the young dragons, just of age, reckless and eager who assault us so often. Ousted by their elders they come here, seeking easy food, gold for a hoard, and territory with which to attract a strong mate. And so the Dragon slayers came to be, a title which grants near immunity from the law, freedom from taxes or discrimination. But only the bravest, or most foolish seek the title. Ten thousand die for every one that obtains it.” Rolani archivist, in the Hall of Alandras, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

Centaurs
“The wilds be our home, the earth our mother, the winds our father, across the plains do we gallop. Past river, past stone, past ruins of oldest memory, beyond trees and through fields of golden growth. We are the sons and daughters of the Maray, we are the speakers of the field, and let its word be known.” Words of a centaur elder, in the sixth century of the Age of Seven

“I have spent two years amongst the Ting-tar centaur tribe of the Maray plains, learning, understanding and watching their lives. They feel the land speak to them in ways I can hardly fathom, the very grass speaks to them of coming storms, of migrating herds, of invaders and dangers. Not once have I seen one sick or ill for more than a ten-day, their sickness cured by some miracle herb found only here on the plains. My place as their guest comes to an end soon, I and my escort will continue on north and east, towards what the Ting-tar call the Sands of Sorrow, the Scaran Desert.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“The raid came quickly and with little warning, the horse men attacked us at our weakest; they showed no mercy, man woman and child taken to be cooked and eaten. We must retaliate! Rolan cannot stand for the horse men to deny the true God, the true Men and defile us any longer! They will be made to bend to the hands of Rolan, the hands of the Sons of God!” Priest of Carntera, speaking to the Hall of Alandras in the second century of the Age of Demons

“We will not see fellow sentient beings be taken as slaves! They are as much children of the Gods as any of us! We will bring war to the children of Alandras rather than see this atrocity be spent upon the Bastion of Humanity!” First speaker of the Maray Peoples, to the Hall of Alandras in the second century of the Age of Demons

“Our losses were heavy in those first months, thousands dead and hundreds of beasts lost to short skirmishes that sapped our man power. These horse me- no, they have earned my respect, these Centaur are formidable fighters and well prepared for any advance we make. To make matters worse the very people we came to protect fight against us, the Maray. I no longer see the wisdom in this war.” Battle commander’s letter to the Hall of Alandras, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“The Centaur come of age in a way no other race does. Part of their pact with their goddess, Overiat, is to take in a special herb that strengthens the heart, body and invigorates the mind. One in three may die to the changes it invokes, but strength, speed and a connection to the wild is given to those that survive. And survive they do, as masters of the wild plains of Maray.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Dreams

Yivithi Elves
“You seek the Elves? We cannot aid you, they hide beyond veils that pass beyond the vision of the Stars. They hide from time, from sky and light, fearing what lies beyond their shell. Deep in the Forests of Yivith, no more than that can we say.” Oracles of Seralis, the fifteenth order, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“Children born, hope risen, child dies, hope fades, time and time again the ageless fear they will die with no heirs, no sons, no daughters, none to pass on their knowledge. Weep for them, cry to the heavens, cry to the great gods to give them reprieve, give them aid. Cry, for their doom places a dread fate upon us all.” Zira, Oracle of Ice and Snow, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“It was a surreal sight, a strange rippling wall in the forest, like the surface of a pool rising into the sky. Beyond I saw deer, squirrels, animals by the dozen. I wanted to bring their pelts back to sell, but the wall… I could not find a way past, no matter how hard I tried.” Foresters tale, told in Torate of Rolanary, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“I am the first daughter of the Eighth Veneficus of Farlea, I will speak with your elders, not some scheming band of children who lack manners. If your mockery does not end soon I will make you regret belittling one of the Elder Race.” The childlike Astal Namei, Elven emissary to Rolanary, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Those once thought dead live again, those lost beyond the reaches of time return once more. Changed in so many ways, but the same as they ever were, for good or ill the fair folk have returned.” Oracles of Seralis, the twenty third order, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams
“A strange surge in magic was felt emanating from the south, it dwarfed any working felt before. I cannot help but worry.” Tolaran Mage, interim record keeper, the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Compared to the elves I heard of from me gran’fathers gran’father these elves be naught more than children, probably not even a century old. ‘Elder race’ my arse. Damn pretty though, guess they hold up to that part of the stories. Perfect little bastards.” Dwarven merchant, in Torate market, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“The elves were once the driving force in my homeland, I remember my life as a simple child during their rule. They were not unkind, rarely cruel, simply ignoring us and leaving the younger races to strive however we could.
But now, now those few that remain, have come out from hiding. They are no longer the proud, strong and graceful kings and queens. Raised on stories of past glory, of heroics and power, they now think all lesser than they. The elves are hardly elders now, fewer than twenty are older than a hundred years, most are un-matured children who do and think as they should not.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

Tolarans
“Toladira. It pains me to write this, to recall the history we have lost, the civilisation and great lands we left behind. Oh Amestus, great capital of Toladira, palaces of marble, silver oaks lining the streets and lanterns of magic lighting the way at night… Burnt to the ground, smothered if molten earth by Eres, to prevent the demonic hordes following us as we fled. Armenus paid with his life to stall the invasion, giving us time to prepare. But is wasn’t enough, nothing was ever enough.” Tyrus Namintae Clovosus, the second Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“Humanity is, and has always been, one of the most diverse races. Their lust for power, desire for pleasure and indomitable will to expand, conquer and take land that is not theirs leads them to infighting seen in few other races. Humans match even the orcs for brutality, even the dwarves in their grudges, even surpassing dragons in their greed. And yet they stand as the wards of the Hope of our world; I do not understand, nor do I think I ever will.” Dantros She’san Malfasin, the Black Reaper, in the Age of Seven

“As we fled south disconnected records were made by Tyrus, my predecessor, about dozens of races. It seems during the Demon War all the other human civilisations fell, leaving other races to spring up in their place. Humanity no longer rules the Northlands, may the memories of the Sevenfold Alliance never fade, for it was truly the greatest force in all of history.” Calcer Metin, the third Crescent, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“Tolarus, the little island in the north, holds magic and weapons we never conceived possible, Ballista, Lorica, Elementalism, trade should be encouraged so such secrets pass to us in time. By their will or not, their secrets will become known to us.” Garmain Tastell, second speaker of the Maray, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Chaos, Order, Good, Evil, all things are relative to the speaker, to the observer, only the God of Judgement may weigh one’s soul, and pray it is light as a feather, for a humans fate is one wrought of Evil, of Good, of Chaos, of Order, of decisions to write their own destiny.” Laln, to the first emperor of Tolarus, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“These black and silver haired Tolarans, with their pale skin and short height are new, to the Southerlands, the thousand score that landed on our Isle of Aran seem keen to stay. We will have to force them out, there is little enough space on the Isle.” Former giantish lord of Aran, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“Sons and Daughters of Toladira, the ancient land of practical magics, of war and battle, where beauty was a product of function. Their cities fell, their armies meaning little, fortifications abandoned and magic proven weak. Practicality is grand, save when one must advance, or die.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Demons

Siren
“Sirens are the greatest inspiration in all of Tolarus, their voices can be heard for miles as they collectively enter song each Holy Day. To their song are prayers made, beseeching them to carry the peoples messages to the gods, though servants of Phos they are messengers of all Tolaran gods.” Armenus Tertalli, the first Crescent Mage, in the fifth century of the Age of Seven

“Many a legend speaks of the sensuality, the beauty and lustful nature of a Siren. Their form seems made to entice men, their voices able to send them into a frenzy, their dress little more than scraps made to reveal their immodesty. Messengers they may be, but dalliance in their duty is common and often sinful.” Calcer Metin, the third Crescent, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“We hardly dress as we do solely to seek men to father our daughters, but simple practicality. When one can, and may have need to grow wings and talons at a moment’s notice, it seems foolish to wear clothes that would impede flight or be damaged by the changes.” A siren, in response to Calcer Metin, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“To hear a Siren’s Song is bliss, perfection, ambrosia as sound, the sweetest thing one may gift ones ears. To sight a siren in the lowlands is a blessing, I, like many others, always watch them as they fly past, longing for another whisper of their voice.” A mesmerized townsman, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“I consider them my daughters in many ways, the children I will never have. To teach them to wield lightning was my greatest pleasure, that they have such skill with their voice to trick the world by mimicking thunder gives me such pride. Never let anyone say a siren is stupid or weak, or they, and I will bring the thunder down upon them.” Phos, lady of Lightning, in the second century of that Age of Dreams

“Word is those Tolarans, the ones on the other side of the Giant’s Crossing, have some kind of race that is made up solely of women. Even more than that, they actively seek out men to father their children! I sure know whose merchant ships I’ll look to serve on next, if you know what I mean.” A sailor in Elemaray, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“New peoples have come to the southerlands. They hold much magic, but are impure and weak, following false gods and worshiping idols. Send word to the mercenaries: ‘The Holy Church of Rolan will pay well for any of the Tolaran demons brought alive to the church. In gold, land or slaves, a debt made shall be paid.’” Twenty ninth High Priest of Alandras to the Hall of Alandras, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“The Sirens, alongside all the other sacred races of Tolara, entrance not only men. No, they also draw in women, capturing their hearts as easily as any man. They are unfettered by human morals, entrapping any and all in the devotion found only in those bewitched by a nymph.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Dreams

Glacies
“Lady of the Winter Woods, I seek Audience with the Child of Two Mothers. I seek wisdom on the coming years, on all time that may pass under my reign, I seek the knowledge to rule fairly and justly until my death.” “Wait then, wait until the ice melts and time stands still, for the Zira says only then may she have answers for you.” Emperor Hallius Diranus Tanus, first Imperator of Tolara to the Glacies of the Forest of Tolan, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Winter frost comes, icicles sparkle on the leaves, snow covers the ground and the lands turn to slumber, awaiting the spring dawn. All save the Glacies, the Winter Foxes, they paint signs in the frost telling fortunes, prophecies, imparting wisdom to all who think but to stop, wait, and watch.” Silvia Kalia Mirarva, the fourth Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“To seek the wisdom of a fox is a fools folly, to ask it a ill conceive choice, to demand it a sentence of death upon winters fall. To wait to be gifted a fox’s wisdom is an endless task, but to be rewarded without fail. Only those who do not ask, who do not expect and do not desire the wisdom, but only watch for it shall ever receive.” A winter tale, originating in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“Beautiful as a snowflake, delicate as a flower, cold as ice and calm as a winter wonderland. The servants of Zira, dressed in gowns woven of silken threads made of snow, in the forest they wait, watch, and know.” A foresters story, originating in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Far north of this peak, far past the great river, beyond the Giant’s Crossing, deep within a wood do your answers lie. There they will be told in the sound of a winter wind, in the shapes of snow, in the words of winter. Ask your question to the frozen spire and it shall be answered, by those children of ice and snow.” Oracles of Seralis, the fourteenth order, to a forgotten hero, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“To fate were you once condemned, through only your own foolishness did you throw yourselves before begging aid. Now I release you from your bonds. Live well, for you have served me well, my daughters of ice, of snow.” Zira, the Oracle of Ice and Snow, to the Glacies, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“The Ceren, oh the Ceren, blessed; or was it cursed? Children of the gods. There were once so few such races, but now the world floods with them, the mortal servants of gods numbering in the hundreds of thousands.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

Selkie
“There is something enchanting about the Tolaran sea beasts, their willingness to aid a lonely sailor pass the time and guide him to shore. If I knew not better I would think they were intelligent, like the elephants, rather than stupid beasts like a horse or wolf.” Marayan sailor

“We always watch for the Selkies as they come ashore, for they are often tired and hungry. Giving shelter to one of the Sea Maidens is good luck, even a blessing upon the house. Those fools inland can keep their Sirens, the Mist Women are a sailors best friend, on land or at sea.” Tolaran fisherman

“Selkies, like the Sirens, Glacies and Solumque are sacred maidens from our ancient homeland, Toladira. There they were bound to the sacred places, keeping both they, and the places, pure and empowered to protect our land. But as time passed mortal interference weakened their purity, luring them from their places, bound they still were, but now unwillingly. I think it likely that our meddling with the divine maidens allowed the Demons to enter Toladira, though one can never be sure of events so far in the past.” Arkturus Henalus, the seventh Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“The Selkies home is the Misty Isles, a small set of sandy islands just off the coast from the Kalan Marsh, it is there they return to raise their pups when they are born. Of all our sacred guardians, only the Selkies raise their children where we can see them. They even encourage the fathers to come to the islands to see them, to see their daughters as they grow from seal pups into Selkie children. A strange thought, to be father to what appears to be little more than a baby seal.” Evella Limisi, the eighth Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“They are the children I will never have, the unconceived daughters who were stolen from me upon my husband’s death. They will be with whom they choose, and raise their children in ways I was never allowed. Sheltered by mists they will be safe, protected by the storms that brew beyond the reach of mortal men.” Laln, the Shrouded Guardian, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“The four sacred races of Tolara can hardly be described separately, they are entwined in as many ways as their goddesses, likely even unto death.
They, each of them, are part of the greater bonding of elemental powers to a living, mortal, form. Nymphs are how they are known, embodiments of forces ethereal, elemental and intangible. Mist, Ice, Magma and Lightning, these four elemental powers the Holy Maidens of Tolara embody.
But, in many ways, they are different from other nymphs. They are unbound, untied to a Sacred Place, instead carrying their element as a part of their own essence. All others are tied to a place, a holy item, some great energy that forms their soul.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Shadows

QED - Iltazyara
2013-12-22, 07:27 PM
Continuation of Chapter 1
Ustrina
“The Ustrina are the children the dragons of ancient Toladira, with fire in their blood and molten scales upon their skin. They are the embodiments of nature’s anger, rage and power, the unfathomable energy held inside a volcano. There is only the one volcano in our new home, the isle of Aran, but Mount Diran is already moulded into a home for the fiery beauties who serve Eres.” Silvia Kalia Mirarva, the fourth Crescent, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“Of all the sacred maidens of Tolarus the Ustrina are the most reclusive, with their home being inhospitable to all but the most hardy and well prepared pilgrims. The caldera in which they live is filled with majestic architecture built of ceramics hardened by the intense heat of the volcano. Only the priests of Eres travel into the caldera itself, shielded by magic, and even they go about their duties and leave as quickly as they may.” Arkturus Henalus, the seventh Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“There is little to say of my daughters, they are those born of my union with Ard’an’kelmaz Kotir, the great dragon of Flame who ruled the Burning Sands which bordered your ancient home. He was mine before I became Remnat’s, but now all I have to remember him are his and my daughters, and their daughters, going through the centuries until now.” Eres, the Ancient Crone, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“There are few who boast of taking an Ustrina as wife, unlike the many who claim such of the Selkie, Siren and Glacies. But those that do speak of how they see it as a true bonding, unlike the single occurrences that happen with the Sirens and Selkies, or the strange dance played out by Glacies. Perhaps they are tempered and patient, but not kind or unforgiving. Woe be to one who breaks an oath or vow made to an Ustrina.” Tavern keep of the Mountain’s Cradle, at the foot of Mount Diran, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“I was told that we arrived at the perfect time, the time of the Grand Firestone Festival. It occurs only once every decade! Well, as rare as it may be it seemed like little at first, the people patient and calm rather than excited and exuberant. Then came the Ustrina, women clothed in what seemed to be metal, their skin ablaze and very bodies seeming to be on fire. They handed out stones that burned, magical stones that will burn for ten years without pause, handed out freely! I have sent one of the two I was gifted as ambassador to the Council, for these Tolarans have more magic than we believed.” Gorian Tomala, Marayan ambassador to Tolarus, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“Fire wells from within the world, even as the heart of the world ceases to burn, to spin and rages against its broken state the veins of the world still course with heat. With stone. With molten fury. All know of the power of flame; the purifier, the passionate element, the rage welling within, but few, so few think of its brother. Magma. The blood of the world, the power that courses through the skin of the land, only restrained by the weight that presses down upon it. If fire is rage, then Magma is the essence of the world’s fury, its spite given the power to rush forth and burn all those who would cause the world harm.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Shadows

Syleth
“Fairies and pixies are a part of a thousand legends here in the Southerlands. But their origins and formation seems to point to a single group of the species, the Syleth, trickster pixies who can steal the memories of their victims. Angering one is close enough to a death sentence in the legends, with few making it away from the pixie without becoming afflicted with curses and losing years of their lives.” Lavinus Tapius Armenus, the fifth Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Angering a fairy is worse than insulting an elf; at least the latter will kill you outright for irritating them.” Bendar Dofdwarm, dwarven healer of Benar Hold, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“Whispers in the wind, butterflies on the breeze, laughter of the gale, roaring of the storm. The Syleth are watching, playing and waiting. Don’t disappoint, put on a good show and you may get out alive!” Words spoken to Heath, Holy Dragonslayer of Rolan, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“There is nothing wrong or cruel about the Syleth, they simply know their place in the world, as should everything. The Syleth stand barely below us, and so far above the mortal races; Humans, Orcs, Dwarves, that using them for their own amusement? That is their right, they do no wrong; no, they are right in their actions. Putting the lesser races in their place.” Yivithi Sage, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Fey magics are the worst of magics, they have no coherency, no logic, no purpose, and worst of all; nothing beats them.” Long suffering Wizard of Elemaray, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams.

“I don’t know why you all think so badly of us. All we do is have a little fun, what’s a house disappearing here or there? We never hurt anyone!” Syleth, professing its innocence to an angry mob, in the third century of the Age of dreams

“The Fae are the Blessing of Ancient Worlds, they mark the eventual return of the World into the Fold of the Astral. For when a bridge has been made a path can be forged. Fear not the Fay, for though they are strange and unknown they are a symbol of hope for this world.” Oracles of Seralis, the fifth order, in the third century of the Age of Elders

“Having a faerie as a friend is like having a badger as a pet, incredibly useful and proficient. But at the same time just as likely to take your toes off as actually listen to you. Not to mention terrible company.” Garon the Surefooted, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“The Fae are creatures of chaos, insanity, uncontrolled will, uncaring minds and little faith. And yet amongst them are some of the most innocent and pure creatures in all the world. For they are unfettered will, simply being what they choose to be. For good, for ill, or for naught at all.
For the fae are neither good nor evil, simply faerie. To whatever end that may imply.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the third century of the Age of Seven

Elruni
“Even after six hundred years we know next to nothing about the Elruni. No records, no writings, no legends, they have remained secretive of themselves in ways I cannot understand. There was once a people living west of the Maray, long ago before the Demon Wars, perhaps the Elruni are they. But what little we know of that people does not speak of horns and tails, of dark skin and magics, so I suspect not.” Marayan archivist, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“It was hard not to be startled at the sight of these… Elruni. Though I have seen many things these people surprised me, though clearly human they hold resemblances to creatures not seen since the Age of Demons: The Corrupted. During the wars demons used mortals as food, slaves and soldiers, those that survived were… Less than human, rarely even sane. Perhaps these Elruni are descendants of the Corrupted? True or not, they unnerve me, and I shall not be travelling to the Elrun Desert as I had planned.” Irania Staln, thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“We knew of your coming, the Sacred Tree spoke of it to the Desert and the River. You were never the people of this land, but it will welcome you, nothing left in the world has much choice save to take what it is given.” Elruni to Marayan stragglers, after the main migration, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“It was always visible, that massive tree, but hardly accessible. The Elruni call it the Sabenorn, or Sabenorndrassil, the Sacred Tree of Thunder and Flame. But never was it accessible, the Saborn desert is inhospitable in ways hardly imaginable, not only do the roots of the tree heat the desert so much that water will boil if it touches the sand, but lightning is common and deadly. Bolts of lightning arc from the Sabenorn down to the sandy desert, leaving glassy scars that slowly cover over as the wind blows. Only the foolhardy try to reach the tree, no matter how it taunts us with its riches from afar.” Rinarv Locaten, alchemist of Elemaray, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“Demonic corruption coursed through the veins of many during the Age of Demons. Few can fight the denizens of the Hells without succumbing to their blood, their poison, the disease which twists bodies and steals minds. Only the gods can save those afflicted, and even then few dare try. For the demons have purpose, they were made to fight, defeat, destroy and conquer far greater things than mortals. To undo that work taxes gods greatly, for some, it even leads to death. May Elyria rest eternal.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the second century of the age of Demons

Anubi
“Deep in the desert of Scaran, past the territories of the sand walkers, beyond the roaming grounds of dragons and far up a dried river bed lies a grand set of ruins. Enormous in stature it might once have host a hundred thousand souls. But not longer, now only statues line its streets, standing patiently as if waiting the return of their makers. As I camped in the ruins I grew ever uneasy, shadows danced as if alive and the sound of jackals, one of the many dangers of the Scaran Desert, echoed through the ruins. I took scrubbings of the runes on a great pillar and fled, I hope never to return. Even now I fear shadows, as they remind me of my nights in that haunting place.” Records of Garon the Surefooted, from the first century of the Age of Dreams

“It took much effort to secure a copy of the findings of one ‘Garon the Surefooted’, his compendium of the lands of Tonarath fetching a price of three thousand silver talents. However, the cost was cheap compared to the information gained. Garon, explorer by trade, made records of his travels, from the Yivithi Forest and the ‘Blackfire Gate’ deep within, to the lizard ruled peninsula of Anat. Most interesting of all was his records of the Scaran Desert, and the scrubbings from the ruins he found within. By luck or divine providence he took translatable tracings of the language! A bastardised form of the Celestial tongue reading ‘Gate to the Sanctuary, barred from view, people fled to walk alone. Ruins left to mark its passage, keepers left to ensure it remains entombed in stone. Sorrowful be for Scarath, city of the dead made for those living, now for dogs to rule in place of kings of old’ All after this is spell symbol gibberish, likely some attempt at a curse by primitive mages.” Arkturus Henalus, the seventh Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams, before going insane and committing suicide

“Follow the warnings left in the silver stone, but heed those unsaid; that which lies barred from view is that which must never be viewed. Heed my words Mage, it would be best to reconsider travelling in search of the Jackal Queens.” Elder of the Ting-tar centaur tribe, to Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Servants of the Blind God, the Father of Bastards and Lord of Sin, they guard his folly with their amber gaze. Scarab queens they be, over ruined kingdoms and doomed temples and riches no one will ever see. Afraid of the light of day, they hide in the night where their shadows may play, jackal daughters of the moon without a word to say.” Story passed down through generations, from before the Age of Demons

“The Dream will end when the Jackals cry.” Oracle of Seralis, the fourteenth order, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“They are the children of the Jackal, the sisters of the Heartless Goddess of Sin. She is their goddess, but they do not serve her. They serve whom she serves, hiding his folly in the night, the folly of his kingdom and the price set upon it for his sin.
Be as they may, beasts half formed, mortal yet still animal, they are the only family she holds dear in the world. So even as they guard his sin, he guards their lives. For as yet the Jackals have not cried, knowing their ancient father has yet to return to the world.” Limpeh the Shadow Sage, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

Orc
“Orcs, history calls them brutes, beasts and cruel beings uncaring for anything save war. To our more modern eyes, enlightened by society this is true. But remember, once we were savages, raiding and pillaging the riches and glories of a society a thousand times greater than ours. Those civilisations are long since destroyed, gone to dust and ashes as we rise upon a pearly towers above the Orcish hordes. We were once as they, and one day they may be as we, fight to survive, but do not claim righteous justice; only the right to survive.” Writings of the Silver Heretic, Rolanary, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“We are the Garn! We are Warriors! Kings of the Fields of Blood! Nothing stands between us and the Blade of Orgal! Walls of stone mean nothing to a blooded warrior, iron bound cowards will fall before our blades! Charge! For Jor’Dam or Death!” Warlord Jor’Dam of the Garn Clan of Orcs, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“There is little intelligent recordings about the Orcs, the Rolani swear blood and steel are all they deserve, death for the crimes they commit against their people. I have yet to see any of them, and I do not think it wise to search. What little I have learn leads me to believe much of their hunger for battle is based on their war-priests, who speak of Orgal the Bloody, a god who’s blade lies deep underwater somewhere in the Sea of Rolan.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the age of Dreams

“A new horde is forming lords and ladies of the Holy City Tepe, two hundred thousand Orcs have gathered in the valley of Dalum. They are set to raise Tellespe to the ground in a fortnight, and be at the walls of this Holy City within two months. Call off the attacks on the Yivithi heretics, the faithful are threatened by the marauding hordes yet another time. Call a heroic crusade, bring about the armies, prepare for war or Rolan is lost.” Lord Commander of the Eastwatch, to the Hall of the Nobles, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Blood of a warrior runs true. But the blood of cowards run truer, slaughter the half-breeds! For Orgal!” Warlord of the Horde of Drek, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Orcs are the children of blood. Since their first days in the world they have bathed in blood, worshipped blood, exalted in it. Their first god was the blood god, but blood is easily corrupted and he fell long ago. Then came the mountain god, but mountains grow tired and turn to slumber. Then came the wandering god, but after a time he walked away, never to be found again. And now the orcs have their Axe God, Orgal, who cries for renewal of ancient rites, oaths and tithes. He seeks the axe of the first orc that was lost to the wise kings eons ago.” Origin of the Orcs, story from the Age of Demons

End continuation of Chapter 1

Deities are possibly my bread and butter, I must have made and thrown out five dozen by now only to pick their names back up and redesign them. The fact I actually managed to stop building this set of gods… well, it surprised me to say the least.
Also, I’m leaving technical information for this chapter in as it blends well, giving the deities symbol and such. The alignment sort of doesn’t, but it lets people say if they feel a god is a different alignment from what I put there, which would be useful feedback.

Chapter 4: The Gods of Tolarus and Tonarath
There are many gods in the lands of Tolarus and Tonarath. From the four holy wives of Tolarus, Phos, Zira, Laln and Eres, to the cults of Overiat and Anural, who are rarely worshipped visible, instead only spoken of when one must deal with their domains. Few wish to speak of death, nor the warden who guards the door.

Divine Ranks:
Elder: Elder gods are gods who comprise the original eight gods of Reanven
Alir: The Alir are gods of great power, who are able to take on servant gods of their own.
Maitir: The Maitir are gods of lesser power, but are independent from other gods.
Concerti: The Concerti are gods beholden to a pantheon, banded together for power.
Sersrei: The Sersrei are lesser gods, who are beholden to the greater gods for one reason or another.

Tolarus
“Ah, the four goddesses of Tolara, the beautiful Laln, the loving Phos, the adorable Zira and the fearsome Eres. Once I was given the privilege of meeting them; the stories hardly do them justice, but then, they never do.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Once, years ago, we had a fifth God, our True God, the God of all Human kind, Remnat, the Hope of Reanven. But at the hands of his cruel bastard of a brother, at the foolish zealot of a sister, he died. The world mourns his demise, never again shall we trust the damned gods of the Spire. Remember younglings, the gods are no more than powerful men, cruel, ambitious and beyond reason.” Calcer Metin, the third Crescent, in the second century of the Age of Demons[/SIZE]

Phos
Lady of Lightning

“Phos, the Majestic Lady of Lightning, the one born of the Ashen Oak, she who was sheltered by the Broken Horn, the Storm Chaser. First of the Four Wards, Phos was with our Lord Remnat the longest, guiding him and showing how to wield his divine power. Time and time again Phos has streaked from the heavens, displaying the power she wields to obliterate those who threaten the children of Tolarus.” Tyrus Namintae Clovosus, the second Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Demons
“We flee the destruction of our homeland, we, all of us, man, women, god and beast all must travel onward. Hope lives on, even as hope dies it begins anew, grieve, grieve children, weep tears as we march on, in honour of the one we knew. In honour of the one who saved you.” Lady Phos, the Storm Chaser, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“It was a cold day for summer atop the shadowed hills, the Ashen Oak, breathing its blackened breaths drenched the landscape in darkness, in life draining shadows. A troop of brazen men, heroes even, tasked by the gods to fell this oak marched into the shadow hills. On that cold day they arrived, harrowed and weak, half their number succumbed to the energies of the hills. Taking up their axes they raised their blades high and sought to bring the tree down, but to no avail. As the last man fell to his knees he cursed the gods who abandoned them, who sent them to die. He cursed his home, his family, and at last the sky. As he drew his final breath the sky answered, a bolt of lightning; brighter than the sun, greater than any spell of mortal make, struck the Ashen Oak. Sundered in twain by the strike the tree was felled, and at its heart, cradled by the tree lay a child, Phos, born of all the will and strength the Ashen Oak could muster, sent out into the world freed of negative energies, emotions or desires, a shining beacon of hope in the darkness. For as the last man died, life began anew, and so life blazes on, unending, unrelenting, life blazes on. In me, and in you.” The story of the Ashen Oak and the Daughter of the Shadowed Hills, from the Age of Seven

“The intricate dances performed at the Ashen Fall Festival are remarkable, a sight to behold, as the devotees of Phos show their god given magic to the masses in dazzling lights, arcs of lightning. Oh the beauty of it all, hardly matched by their simple dawn prayers, but even they show the spirit of Toladira, indomitable and ever faithful.” Calcer Metin, the third Crescent, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“The Lady of Lightning, the Bolt of Hope, first wife of the God of Hope. It is she who stood strongest against the shadow, who lasted long after all other gods died. But all light failed in the end, till all was covered in shadow.” Limpeh, reading the Text of Eons, in the Age of Shadows

Symbol: A tree being struck by lightning
Domains: Storm, Charm, Destiny
Portfolio: Beauty, Lightning, the Ashen Oak, Heroic Guidance
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Rank: Concerti of Tolarus
Worshipers: Tolarans, Soldiers, Farmers

Zira
Oracle of Ice and Snow

“Zira, child of the legendary Hi-Yuen and fostered by Phos herself, the beloved child of two mothers, the Oracle of Ice and Snow, Protector of the Hidden Forests, Littlest of the Sevenfold. Oh Zira, may you forever bless us with your knowledge, show us the future in the frozen lakes, in the snow atop the trees. Guide our people to gentler times, as befitting of the daughter of legends.” Tyrus Namintae Clovosus, the second Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“In Ice and Snow it was seen to come, but it was not believed. Doom comes for all things, time brings the Doom of all things. Perhaps my warnings will be heeded from henceforth, or perhaps I shall no longer provide them to those who heed them not. At this last I say this: South, South through fire, through sand, through blazes unknown, upon the shore they await, to take us from the land we know, to the land where we must go.” Lady Zira, the Oracle of Ice and Snow

“Beloved Zira, you must leave this land, leave behind the protection of the Sevenfold. We will die, soon there will be only one of the seven left. You. Flee, flee little one, take your people south, for the time of the Northlands as the bastion of civilisation has ended. Ainae is no more, Yomel lies in ruins, the seven are now three, and will soon be one. Go.” Artani Pel’cer’o, first of the Sevenfold Court, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“Born of the great Fox Hi-Yuen, atop the frozen mountain of Atel, of a father who was once a god, given to Phos’ care. The Beloved Daughter of Two Mothers, her cries brought ice and snow, winters without end, her ears hearing the whispers of destiny, her eyes seeing Doom in the ice. Thousands pledged themselves to her, whom they believed the Daughter of Remnat, one by one they fell to Ice and Snow, frozen and bested by their foe. Perhaps she took pity on them at the last, for slowly the winter thawed, ice receded from their bodies and they were blessed by the gods. Now wielders of Ice and Snow they were like unto to the young goddess, as if born from Hi-Yuen they bore the Fox’s ears and tails, and found themselves often in the form of a fox. From then forth the Glacies, servants of Zira, have retreated from humanity to watch the future of our people in the frozen lakes and snow fall.” Recordings of the Temple of Remnat, from the Age of Seven

“The watching of a simple bowl of water is the simplest of Zira’s rituals, watching snowfall the next, there are dozens taught to her priests, each more complicated than the last. But the most famous of all is the Dance of Frozen Tears, where three of Zira’s faithful gather to dance together, soaked in water that they fling off as they dance, the icy droplets left behind sparkling with the colours of rainbows in the light.” Calcer Metin, the third Crescent

“Only Zira foresaw the coming of the Shadows, in ice and snow she warned the world, but they heard her not. They cared not. For in the sky a war raged, one that would last a thousand years. She died trying to stop the war, her prophecies ended. The child of Toladira dead.” Limpeh, reading the Text of Eons, in the Age of Shadows
“She was given to our Lord as a child, a gift from a great goddess as one who would be faithful to him. Never has she failed, never has she given in, Zira has been as perfect as a snowflake in all things. Yet sadness lurks in her eyes, regret of being torn from her mother, the loss of her time as a child to be made servant to the god of hope” Priestess of the Oracle, in the fifth century of the age of Seven

Symbol: A shard of ice above a snowflake
Domains: Cold, Oracle, Destiny
Portfolio: Ice, Childhood, Vision, Mortal Destiny
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Rank: Concerti of Tolarus
Worshipers: Tolarans, Foresters, Mothers

Laln
The Shrouded Guardian

“Laln… The mysterious lady, so many called her a deceiver when she first came to our Lord’s court, so many… So many proven to be traitors, succumbed to the poisonous words of the Reaper. Lest we forget, it is the Reaping Sun who brought about our Lord’s demise, and Laln who protected the Sacred Court from his minions until the Betrayers granted them entry.” Armenus Tertalli, the first Crescent Mage, in the first year of the Age of Demons

“Whispers in the dark, the shroud descends, the shadows wait beyond the dawn. Grieve, grieve, for shadows stand where hope once stood. Shrouded in mist his body will lie, never to be found by the hands of the gods, what remains of Hope, the Remnant, will live on only in those he nurtured to greatness.” Laln, the Shrouded Guardian, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“The tenants, traditions and goals of Laln and her clergy are secrets even now, perhaps the beliefs of her betraying Remnat are true; or more likely they are simple misconceptions, foolish people thinking badly of a secretive goddess.” Last writings of Evella Limisi, the eighth Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“Of the four races that serve our goddesses the Selkies are the best known, any man, or woman, who lives or works on or by the oceans will have met a Selkie in their lifespan. Though few in number they are the friendliest of the four races, often climbing ashore to visit fishermen in their homes or sailors as they return home. Often times they even aid those lost at sea.” Berlicus Patarius, the ninth Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“The Shrouded Guardian was the second wife of hope. But it was she who gave in to despair, she who brought down the shadow in her crying. For as she mourned a path opened unknown, letting shadows into her heart from Beyond. Taken in and broken she fuelled the war, to break the world that had killed the one she loved.” Limpeh, reading the Text of Eons, in the Age of Shadows

Symbol: Swirling lines of mist
Domains: Ocean, Transformation, Destiny
Portfolio: Mist, Promises, Altered Fate
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Rank: Concerti of Tolarus
Worshipers: Tolarans, Sailors, Fishermen


Eres
The Ancient Crone

“You are young, little mage, even the god you serve is young compared to me. Know this little mage, I was asked by my Mother to watch your God and his flock. I do not take my task lightly, and nor should you. Neither you nor I can escape our Doom. Instead embrace it, know it, rule it.” Eres, the Ancient Crone, to Armenus Tertalli, the first Crescent Mage in the fifth century of the Age of Seven

“Meeting Eres was enlightening. Fearsome and wise, beautiful yet monstrous, she regards one of the Elder Gods as her mother. That she serves our Lord Remnat reassures me, for if she was to be my foe I would quake in fear. Long live Eres, the Queen of Flame and Stone.” Armenus Tertalli, the first Crescent Mage in the fifth century of the Age of Seven

“Fire dances upon the stone, the stone bends to the fire, the moulding begins and the essence of power itself forms. Earth and Fire, Magma, the energy of the primordial world spilling forth upon the world. Wield it, know it, never forget why we stand here, upon this land stripped of its mightiest force.” First teaching of Eres, from the second century of the Age of Seven

“Fury unleashed, no other way to describe it, as the demons chased us from the capital, the last survivors safe from danger, Eres and her servants began a chant… I… I don’t think anyone will ever forget that chant, the echoes haunt my dreams even now. Fire bloomed in bursts from the ground, the grand palace… it… It melted, the stone ran down, the screams of demons being drowned in molten earth, the fury of Eres. Unrelenting, unforgiving, unending. On that day she showed us what gods can do, what gods… what gods should never be made to do.” Tyrus Namintae Clovosus, the second Crescent, from the first century of the Age of Demons

“The priests of Eres perform their Grand Firestone Blessing only once every ten years, the Ustrina leave their home in the volcano of Mount Diran only for the festival. For seven days Eres and her servants bless the populace, providing firestones. Magical stones imbued with fire, able to light fire even on the coldest, wettest nights. In some way the fact this has only just been recorded baffles me, am I the first to think to?” Evella Limisi, the eighth Crescent, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“All will end as it was begun. Eons will pass and time will grind to an end. Then at last will the primal fires of creation take apart this world, returning it to what it was in the beginning.” Prophecy of the Crone, from the second century of the Age of Gods

“The Ancient Crone simply fell silent as the end came, watching it happen. But it was she who led away survivors and built the bastion in which we survive, but without hope do we live, as ever the shadows close in.” Limpeh, reading the Text of Eons, in the Age of Shadows
“Her worship is to bathe in the flame, to give oneself utterly into her hands. For she does not tolerate defiance, indecision or regret. One must be stern, determined and ready to die to live as a devotee of Eres. But she rewards those who are truly devoted greatly, our lives long, prosperous and greater than those of other men or women.” Priest of Eres, in the third century of the Age of Dreams
“It is the will of the Gods that Tolarus is strong. It is the fire that pours from the mountain that fuels our forges, the ice of the forest that foretells our greatness, the mists of the sea that guard our shores and the lightning in the sky that smites our foes. Tolarus is a land blessed by the Gods, and we prosper for it.” Archpriest of the Tolaran Faith, in the fifth century of the age of dreams

Symbol: A stone wreathed in flames
Domains: Fury, Pride, Destiny
Portfolio: Magma, Fury, Enforced Doom
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Rank: Concerti of Tolarus
Worshipers: Tolarans, Spellcasters, Kings and Lords

Tonarath
“The gods of Tonarath are not like our own, they are many and disconnected, not bound by duty and purpose as our great goddesses are. No, they are free to act without care or balance across the land, their faith in competition with each other even as they act towards the same goals. The clergy of Tolarus should endeavour to remain separate, unspoiled, from the madmen who pose as servants of the divine on Tonarath.” Arkturus Henalus, the seventh, third century of the Age of Dreams

Airuna
Seeker of the Flame

“South, walk south she said, we saw little reason to argue. The demons left little beyond the sanctuary, and with no hope of return south seemed to be as good a choice as any other. Following one so young, so untested, it seems odd. But for one to be born with nine tails, to be born with complete control over the flames. Airuna is certainly blessed by the gods.” Message written on a stone tablet, from the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Daughter of the World God, you must understand, they cannot be sent out without protection, you may have no more need of them but to abandon them is cruel.” “Cruel is the fate placed upon my family, you know less than you think, dragon.” “Be as you may, I ask your leave to take one of them as my own, surely abandoning them as you are you can have little complaint?” “Do as you will dragon, those that leave the Sanctuaries are no concern of mine.” Alimah the Draconic Scholar to Tana, Goddess of Creation, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“Little one, your mother abandoned you, your goddess needs you not, but such a fate is not one you deserve, enter my service and lead your kind to new lands. South, take them south, through the wilds, beyond the mountains, across the desert, there you will find a new land to call home. Never despair, the flames will never betray you.” Alimah, appointing his first Sersrei, Airuna, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“Knowledge is a thing earned, a thing sought and a thing obtained. Knowledge is a sort of power, though not tangible like coin, vicious like a blade, or mighty like a spell, but knowledge has a power all of its own. To devote oneself to learning, to study and the pursuit of knowledge is admirable, no matter the reasons for which it is done. Knowledge is power, but power is never, under any circumstances, knowledge.” Tales of the Flame Seekers, third chronicle

“The cult of Airuna is a plague! These foxes are beasts! Half men! They have no place in the Riverlands, no place in the lands of Men! They should be driven out, burned in the fires they revere!” Second Emissary of Alandras to Elemaray, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“After considering, at length the words of the Honourable Emissary the Council of Rivers has decided, the church of Alandras will be dissolved and cast out of the Riverlands. The Xenophobic, tyrannical, stagnant tenants of the church caused the Maray people to leave the yoke of the Rolan long ago, we shall not submit to the yoke willingly ever again.” Speaker of the Council of Rivers, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“It was a surprising honour I was visited with on my journey across Tonarath, in Elemaray I was asked by a Kitsune, a Puer Vulpis, to visit their shrine to Airuna. Airuna is a goddess of Fire and Knowledge, and the Puer Vulpis themselves resemble the Glacies, though they have no affinity with Ice or the cold. It is my belief these creatures, and their goddess, are of the same ancestry as Zira and her servants, though how I do not know.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Dance with the flames, dance with the fox, dance with love, passion and joy, seek knowledge in the flames, dance to entice it, and know the Foxes are watching. So dance, dance and ask the foxfire for knowledge, for only by asking may one yet receive.” Tales of the Flame Seekers, first chronicle

Symbol: A closed book with an emblazoned flame
Domains: Flame, Knowledge, Illusion
Portfolio: Flames, Foxfire, Knowledge Seekers, Weaving
Alignment: Neutral Good
Rank: Sersrei to Alimah
Worshipers: Fox-folk, Sorcerers, Illusionists, Wizards

Tantrei
Spirit of the River

“You speak wrongly mortal, I am not the god of this river, I AM this river. I am its heart, its soul, I am the spring from which it blooms, the ocean it feeds, the fish that swim it. And more than that, I am the people who live upon it, so do not mistake me for what I am not. Never anger the river, for angering the river is to anger me.” Tantrei, to the Marayan migrants, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“They speak of the dragon of the Ela, they speak of the servant of the Seafarer, they speak of him as he is not. You come not with questions but with answers? You seek our aid in things that prevent us from offering it. Instead we offer advice. Go to the Spring of Silver Waves, there you may call the fury of the river. Be warned, the river cares not who stands in its path.” Oracles of Seralis, fourteenth order, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“Your people called forth my wrath to wipe the stain of forming upon the sea. Beyond my eyes a festering wound formed, threatening to consume me. The Great River is in your debt, safe passage to your kind across the river is gifted eternal. Be warned, to bridge the river is to invoke my wrath again.” Tantrei, to the Marayan peoples, after the Curse of the Rolani was lifted from the Sea of Rolan by the Great flood, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“Come friend, may the spirit of the riverlands welcome you!” Traditional Marayan greeting

“Long ago the river Ela was defiled, poisoned and tainted. For the Wise spilled their unwise creations into the river, to be washed away. They tamed the fens, penned in the flood plains, tasked the river to work for them alone. In its rage the river formed a body, to embody its anger, its fury. The work of the Wise was washed away, in a flood that drowned all the lands of the south in ages old.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Immortals

Symbol: A winding river
Domains: River, Water, Fury
Portfolio: Rivers, Marayans, Floods, the Spring of Silver Waves
Alignment: Neutral
Rank: Sersrei to Normai
Worshipers: Rafts men, Marayans, Elan River Maidens, Merchants

Livisi & Livari
The Twin Lovers

“The blessed twins, they came to our people in dreams as the age turned and our people had slowly began to cling to despair. Oh how we cried, sorrowful of our lost home, of the atrocities committed by those we once called brothers and sisters. Despair filled us, believing we were no better than they. But the twins came to us, showed us the way to sing and dance again, showed us how to enjoy life and revel in the moment. They taught us to break our bonds, our restraints and live life how it should be lived, not life as a servant to be ruled and controlled.” Henera Listfe, first priestess of Livisi, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Red and white, Passion and Purity, Revelry and Freedom, Taboo and Love, the Twins embody all these things. Livisi, the promiscuous one, determined to free all she cares for from the shackles that tie them down. Livari, the serene one, peaceful and pleasant she is the elder sister guiding and watching over our people. We would be lost without them.” Nalven Tote, first priestess of Livari, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“It was hard to stomach the worship of the Old Gods amongst the Maray, but the addition of these twins, these despicable inversions of human morals. They present a grave threat to the church of Alandras, both here amongst the Maray and home, in Rolan. I ask the hall to be cautious, and not let these impure ones touch our lands.” Loptek Antonas, head priest of Alandras to the Maray, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“The Maray are hedonistic in ways even the most fervent supporters of the Sirens and Selkies are not, they show rapport and fellowship between woman and woman, man and man. Beyond even this they seem to encourage relations between siblings! Their worship of a pair of gods known as the ‘Twins’ seems to have addled their morals, leaving them servant and adherents of nothing more than pleasure, desire and lust.” Patirus Aquilus, the sixth Crescent, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“There is something behind the twins, they did not come from nowhere. Something, someone saw the position of the Maray peoples and sent them, but I do not think it was benevolent, no I fear it was a ploy by a greater god or goddess to gain a foothold in the south.” Arkturus Henalus, the seventh Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“Dance, dance, dance before the song ends! The night is young, the days are long; the work never ends! Dance now, while you can, free yourselves from the shackles that bind you, that bind the land. Free your soul, uplift the spirit, spread joy and happiness hand in hand!” Traditional speech of the priests of Livisi and Livari, at the Summers Summit festival, originating in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“I respect my fellow priests and servants of the gods, those who worship the Twins Livisi and Livari, but at times I fear they take things too far. They come so close to inciting riots, for the freemen to topple the Council of Rivers, or even war against Rolan to free the slaves there. The preaching of freedom is just, that I cannot deny, but they cause passions to rise and jealousy to flare.” Priest of Tantrei, speaking idly to a tavern, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“There is little wrong in wanting.”
“Nothing wrong at all. To desire is to live, to need and wish for it all.”
“To live is to die, but death is far away, fill the time between with all the joy and passion you may.”
“Seek out what you want, but never steal it away. Wish hard for that which you desire, for passion finds a way.” Livisi and Livari, appearing as avatars during the Spring’s Turning Festival, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“Children of sin, of forbidden love, of castrated pride. They are the two who were born of the son of Silver and the temptress of all. They are her pride, for life brought from death, love pure and kind, for though their mother is evil, she is love in all forms.
From jealousy to family, from the purest to the most foul, she is the essence of love. And the twins are the love of family she craved to give, to show to the world.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Elders

Symbol: Two girls embracing each other
Domains: Joy, Passion, Liberation
Portfolio: Taboo, Twins, Platonic Love
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Rank: Sersrei to Naira
Worshipers: Lovers, Marayans, Bards, Siblings, Rogues

Alimah
The Draconic Sage

“Knowledge is power, and power corrupts. I refuse to be corrupted. The key to the knowledge of power is to be its sole holder, to keep knowledge from others. Spread the word, teachings and knowledge, hold nothing back, for withholding even forbidden knowledge only tempts its misuse further.” Alimah, The Draconic Lord of Knowledge, in the fifth century of the Age of Elders

“A play is at work, a mincing of words, a concealing of goals and aims. This war is nothing but an excuse, a chance to seek another thing. Those caught in the crossfire mean nothing to those who orchestrate it high in the skies. No, they care nothing for the mortal world. Keep watch, Dragon Sage, for whatever they seek lies in the stars. Somewhere beyond the reach of even gods.” Limpeh, Shadow Sage, to Alimah, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“Alimah! How dare you interfere! This is a war between Heaven and Hell! You have no right to act here!” Dantros, Lord of Dead, to Alimah, in the first century of the Age of Dreams[/SIZE]

“Alimah. Sage. The Shessian Archive burns. All knowledge of Before that remains is yours. Yours alone, do with it as you will, I begin to tire of this endless struggle.” Shess, to Alimah, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“There are more secrets hidden in the history and legends of this world than I could ever have imagined. From the Old World came the secrets of four civilisations that had thrived for millennia, and then the Elder Gods came from their Gate of Infinity. The secrets of not only one world are ours to find, but that of the ones we revere as gods is lying in wait as well.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“We are more than simple divine entities, we are watchers and wardens who have a duty to this world. So many squander their power, abandoning duty, but fate will judge them yet. A purpose we are given, to and end unknown and a future yet untold. By whom we may never know. But failure is no option, nor could it ever be.” Alimah, the Draconic Sage, on the nature of Gods.

“Who are you, sage of shadows? From whence do you come to send me to war? I will go for the tears in your eyes, the soul I see to be harrowed beyond all.” Alimah, to the Shadow Sage, in the first century of the Age of Demons

“It is the sadness of nature to see her children die, her greatest joy to see them grow. To grow, evolve, struggle and survive, to become more than they were before. But time is unkind, tearing away at the souls of the weak, who hang so dearly to life. The Huntress of the Wild is not of nature, she tears at nature, forces growth in paths not meant to be. There is a place for all things, not just the strong, for all things are strong in their own way.” Pilgrim of Anastasia, visiting the grove of Hamalia in the third century of the Age of dreams

Symbol: A draconic eye over a book
Domains: Knowledge, Good, Dragon, Rune, Meditation, Planning, Balance
Portfolio: Scholars, Knowledge, Patience, Guidance, Written Word, Understanding
Alignment: Neutral Good
Rank: Alir
Worshipers: Scholars, Monks, Scientists, Alchemists, Astrologers, Librarians, Teachers

QED - Iltazyara
2013-12-22, 07:28 PM
Continuation of Chapter 4
Overiat
Huntress of the Wild

“The hunt begins, nature rallies to the call of life and death. Survive. Fight. Strive. Grow. Beasts and monsters, strive to survive, fight for life, for to live is to grow. To surrender is to die, and to die is the fall in the call of nature.” Words of the Hunt, Overiat, from the third century of the Age of Elders

“The animals began acting strangely, even the most docile of the wild beasts became temperamental. It was not long until we saw why. Savagery flared amongst the predators, they fought amongst themselves for scraps of meat, killed each other for a mate, only for the chosen mate to kill them. Some began to change, growing larger, more dangerous and ferocious. The Wild Hunt of Overiat… The legends are true. And now nature culls the weak from the world.” Words of huntsman, Elamaray, from the second century of the Age of Dreams

“There are few who worship the goddess Overiat, the mad goddess who would cull half the world so only the strong survive. Only the foolhardy take up her worship, for should she make the call they would be made to battle all they see. Kill, murder and defile for no reason other than to prove their strength.” Arkturus Henalus, the seventh Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“Only Overiat may call the Wild Hunt, only she may end it. So when the hunt comes all must ready for it, or none will be spared. Hide those who are unable, guard they who cannot, we are strong together. That is what separates us, the civilised peoples, from wild beasts.” Third speaker of the Council of Rivers in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“Hovos was the greatest of all the people ever born on the plains of Maray. His pride ruled from the Scaran to the Ela, and none would stand in their path. For Hovos was husband of nature, a bond marked eternal in the grove of Hamalia. [/SIZE]

But oh. Overiat. Oh Overiat, daughter of our father, why do you abandon us? You flee the plains, you take up with beasts, call hunt upon us. Overiat is of the Maray no more, and we mourn the loss of the last child of Hovos. The last child of our King.” Herdmaster of the Centaur Tribes, in the second century of the Age of Seven

“Is it the fate of nature to watch her children drift away? Of the four one remains. The first lost to Sin as her only hope to live, the second rebelled to usurp the true path of life. The third lives in the land of her other Mother, guarding children of her own. The Fourth sleeps in water older than time, forgetting all as the eons pass in mere instants.” Of the Children of Nature, from the fifth century of the Age of Seven

“Lords of the Hall, no matter the heresy we must pay heed to this event. The Wild Hunt, unholy and demonic as it is, must be recognised. Thousands have succumbed, turned against each other by instincts not their own, as beasts play havoc in our lands. Call a crusade against the Wild Riders, call the armies home to battle here, where they are needed. Do something holy lords, or we will lose more ground to the unbelievers.” Commander of the Home Forces, to the Hall of Alandras, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

Symbol: A fang crossing
Domains: Celerity, Nature, Animal
Portfolio: Wild Hunt, Beasts, Evolution, Wilderness
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Rank: Sersrei to Anastasia
Worshipers: Centaurs, Hunters, Hermits and Rangers, Druids

Eos
Bringer of the Dawn
“Daughter of Moon and Sun, child of light and bringer of the Dawn. Eos. We call to you, we call upon you, we beg of you, shine your holy light down upon this darkened world.” Book of the Dawn, third script, from the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Sister, the Sun fails to rise. As you lie in regret the world dies, day by day the plants wither and those who survive cry in despair for the Dawn that will never come. Your daughter shines on, but she is not you, she is not the Sun. Grow bold sister, for the Sun shines forever, and only pauses to wait for the Dawn. Your Dawn, your new daughter’s Dawn. Sister, Allumaya, rise once again.” Tana, to Allumaya, during the days of darkness, in the second century of the Age of Demons

“From darkness was I born, ever to bring about the Dawn to banish the night and break the fear that gripped mortal hearts. I am daughter of mother and child, daughter of Sun and Moon, I am both and I am light. So bear the light of courage, bear the light of virtue and carry it into the places where the meek cry in despair.” Book of the Dawn, the words of Eos, ninth script, from the first century of the Age of dreams

“Gods are not born as men or women, they are fashioned from the very essence of reality and given mind and form through the love of their parents. From the Moon of Sulane and the Sun Allumaya came Eos, who shall break the Dawn so the Sun may shine.” Book of the Dawn, first script, from the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Here we shall build a bastion, a place holy and worthy. Here we may view the Dawn as she breaks over the mountains so far away, as the Sun rises to bask the world in her glow. Upon the mouth of the Ela shall we stand, illuminating the path for all to see, even as light fades and darkness covers the world once more. Till Dawn comes again.” Book of the Dawn, twenty third script, from the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“The Tonarath people have myths that resonate strangely with our own. They call the Sun Allumaya, they name the Moon of Tides Sulane, but though they name them different they speak of them as we do. Eos, or as we know her Aurora, is the daughter of Sun and Moon who was born to break the days of Darkness that came as the Age of Demons closed. They say she is daughter of Mother and Child, Allumaya and Sulane. Though they name them different, they are the same. A truth one might think to apply elsewhere as well.” Evella Limisi, the eighth Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“Do not think the Light blind, do not think the Light unforgiving. Know that life is that of change, even as darkness covers one’s soul and sin binds them Dawn may break. Granting the courage to shake the bonds of sin and let light in to banish the darkness.” From the book of Dawn, eighth script, from the first century of the Age of Dreams

“The dawn was a thing that never came for me in the time outside of time. To Eos do I pray at each dawn, for light, for hope, for the dreams she gave to the world by casting aside nightmare. Praise be unto Dawn, for she rises high over this world and gives courage to face the new day.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Shadows

Symbol: A Dawn Sun or a Crescent Moon
Domains: War, Courage, Spell, Sun, Guardian, Moon
Portfolio: Dawn, New Moon, Holy War, Bravery, Guardian of the Meek, Virtue
Alignment: Lawful Good
Rank: Maltir
Worshipers: Order of the Holiest Dawn, Paladins, Guards, Light Bearers

Anural
The Heartless Goddess of Sin

“I wonder, could you have done better, lived better, lived a life free of sin. For I know you have not, your heart was put upon the scales and found wanting, lust and greed weighed you down. But perhaps my standards are too high, for even the gods are shamed by the scales, shown to be beings dirtied by anger, rage and desire. But then, that is what it means to aspire. To aspire to become better, greater and more worthy than ever before, to reach higher than even the gods. So, when you die, and your heart balances against a feather, into the maw of eternity you will go. Reborn to die, die to be reborn, again and again, until you become something new.” Anural, Balancer of the Scales, to Garon the Surefooted, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Few people seek the warden of Death herself, but those who claim to have found her say she is of great beauty, her voice resonating with the echoes of her cave to both haunt and enchant those who enter. And even they cannot say where she was found, all they ever say is that she dwells in a deep cave, with great waterfalls and a lake that stretches for miles underground. To seek the warden of Death is folly, but sometimes folly is the only path left to take.” Garon the Surefooted, in search of Anural, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“Death is as natural as life, it begins and it ends, for life is only one half of the cycle, and reincarnation never ends.” Cultist of Anural, speaking Heresy in Tepe, Rolan, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“In my studies of the gods of the continent of Tonarath I found two most interesting deities: Anural the Balancer of Scales who judges all on a scale set against her heart when they die. And Overiat, Dancing Hind of the Twin Moons, who appears only when the moons of Eastris and Kessan overlap. The two are unique amongst the gods of Tonarath in that they have no formal priesthood, only a scattering of cultists or ritualists in the regions.” Evella Limisi, the eighth Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“I send this message from the ruins of Scaran. I followed the footsteps of Garon the Surefooted, but have run out of supplies. In this place I have recognised something I wish to tell the Hall of Alandras. Anural. The ruins of Scaran host temples to the cult of Anural. Be careful lords of the Bastion of Rolanary, for I fear the cult is more than it seems.” Sending of a priest to the Hall of Alandras, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

“There are many gods of death in the cultures of our world, and while at first it seems they overlap, work against one another, even conflict... They do not. Each one takes on an aspect, Anural is the Balancer of the Scales, she sees the sin in each soul that dies compare to that of her own when she was a child and lost her heart. Dantros is the Keeper of the Dead, he rules the undead and cherishes them as children, giving them life even after life ends. There are many more, Kall the Gatherer of Souls, Bener the Mourning Son, Jos the Maker of Heroes, but each plays but one part, not conflicting as many believe.” The Guidance to True Faith, from Carnea Monastery, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“The time approaches where the Dream will end and a choice will be made, a judgement by one wronged so greatly. In all this time will she have come to forgive, to forget? Or will she seek vengeance, though it may cost her all that will be?” Oracles of Seralis, the twenty third order, in the seventh century of the Age of dreams

Symbol: A set of scales
Domains: Death, Renewal, Fate, Sand
Portfolio: Sin, Desert of Scaran, Anubi, Judgement
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Rank: Sersrei to Lombandi
Worshipers: Relatives of the Dying, Fighters, Rogues

Alandras
The True God of Humanity

“We are the true people of this world, it was given to us by the Great God Alandras. Never forget your duty to Humanity, to Alandras, for they are one and the same. May the Bastion of Rolanary stand forever, may she come to rule the world as is her right.” Book of Alandras, from the first century of the Age of Dreams

“There are none more rightful in this world, none more pure nor none so great as the Rolani who serve under our Lord, King and God, Alandras. The Dwarves are sinful men succumbed to greed, drawn into darkness and bound by a unwholesome love of gold. The Elves are men corrupted by arcane magics, twisted to serve naught but their own lust for power. The Centaur are men torn from the bosom of their mothers to make love to beasts, in turn to become them. The Orcs are those who forget duty, who take what is not theirs, who claim the world is theirs when it is not. Only Humans, only Rolani, remain pure of form and mind. Never forget that temptation shall rob you of your humanity, give all unto the Hall of Alandras, for only he may protect you.” First script of the Book of Alandras, from the first century of the Age of Demons

“All other gods are false. Mere demons who masquerade as gods to steal the souls of the faithful from their rightful guardian. Never believe the false miracles of the heretics, for they carry a price greater than any could know. Praise be to Alandras, the Guardian of us all.” Book of Alandras, from the second century of the Age of Demons

“Since the beginning of the world there has been a curse, plague or contagion which occurs seemingly at random. The Corruption. It is known as such because of its effects, the Corruption of Mortal Form. Most of the hideous, evil and inhuman monsters of the world were spawned of this corruption in one way or another. We, as the Pure Humans, must remain ready to purge those who become corrupted and take on inhuman forms. In Holy Alandras’ name, Rolan shall remain the bastion of pure-blooded humans until the end of time.” Holy Book of Alandras, written in the Age of Demons

“Many of our people still look to the Heretical Oracles of Seralis for guidance, while we do not doubt their prowess of viewing the future there are other concerns. The oracles, though not worshipers of the false gods, consort with the Mountain Demons, the Rocasans. Whatever price they act is likely a ruse, meant only to lull seekers into opening themselves to the taint of those unholy peaks.” Hall of Alandras, on the Oracles of Seralis, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams
“I am no heathen, I am a Holy Hero of Alandras, I pay my tithe faithfully and rest in the knowledge Alandras protects me and mine. I do not consort with demons, only our own people who were abandoned by the church long ago. We are the Bastion of Humanity, let us bring all who are born from our ancient society return to the fold.” Heath, Holy Dragonslayer of Rolan, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“No matter the reason for the journey, any man, woman, child, dwarf or other should read the Book of Alandras before setting foot in Rolan. For a priest will allow a devotee to pass where another would be chained. Simple knowledge of a passage is sufficient, but know many copies are different, and some of the clergy are more zealous and unpleasant than others.” Travellers advice to people entering Rolan, in the Age of Dreams

Symbol: A crown
Domains: War, Hero, Inquisition, City, Evil
Portfolio: Humanity, Culling of the Inhuman, Bastion of Rolanary, Sea of Rolan
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Rank: Maitir
Worshipers: Humans of Rolan, Fighters, Heroes, Slavers

End continuation of Chapter 4

This chapter is the unfinished one of the three that I’m posting, the histories themselves are still under construction. Or more accurately, I haven’t started construction on them yet. History is for people with attention spans, legends are short and interesting.
Chapter 5: Histories and Legends
“People always ask ‘What is over that hill?’ ‘What happened here?’ ‘Who was that person?’ and ‘Why?’ Well, all to be said, one must simply choose to find out. For all that could happen, has happened, all that will happen, is happening. Don’t wait, act. There isn’t enough time in the world to wait around for the answers to come to you.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the first century of the Age of Shadow

“Go on, go for a wander around the corner, you might be surprised by what you find. The world is far, far bigger than you think, young man.” Strange old man, to Garon the Surefooted, in the first century of the Age of Dreams[/SIZE]

“Seven ages, seven times, more than four thousand years since our work began, and no end in sight. No point dallying any further, there’s work to do, magic to be done and a world to be made.” Melias, the Wanderer, in the Age of Dreams

“Times that were are the ones the world remembers, but the times that will be are just as tangible to be. A shadow, waiting to be brought into the light, struggling amongst millions to be the one that is able to simply be.” Limpeh the Shadow Sage, in the first century of the Age of Shadows

Four thousand years of history, legends and myths. From the Age of Founding, when the world lay shattered in a thousand pieces floating in the unattainable chaos, to the Age of Dreams, where the very dreams of men, women and gods come to fruition and the shadows brew in the lands of nightmares.
Of the Elder races, two faced with near total annihilation, a third fallen into the clutches of more prosperous, younger, races. And the fourth, the last man standing, the one Elder Empire still as it once was; yet not.
The immortals, two races whose names are barely remembered, whose forms are lost to depths of time. The great Wise and their contraptions and underground complexes, the kingly and queenly Majestics, who claimed ruler ship over Land, Sea and Sky, a threefold kingdom that spanned the world. Oh how they have fallen into obscurity.
And the gods, on the gods, how they came and went, dozens left at the wayside, un-worshipped and stripped of power in the Age of Gods, when the Divine Realms were not yet sacred. Time is a cruel mistress, and she forgets those that fail as quickly as she grants glory to those who succeed.

History
“It’s all disjointed, you know, the histories of this world. Every nation thinks itself the centre of the world, every people claiming their own gods and legends are older. The more astute amongst us gave on exact dating centuries ago, instead choosing simply to name the century and age of the event. For, at the least, that can be believed.” Strange old man, teaching from a battered old book outside of the Crescent Sanctum, in the third century of the Age of Dreams
“I could tell you every word, every moment, each page a moment in the history of our world. But you don’t truly want that, do you? No. The events, the causes, the blood war and chaos, the mysteries and legends. That is what the young want to hear. Very well, I shall begin with the oldest war this land had ever seen…
‘Twas in the Age of Immortals, the Wise and Majestic ruled the world in its entirety, the elves mere children, dwarves but tribes in the hills eking out a living from rocks and pebbles. This was the time of greatest magics, when the world shook at the worlds of wizards and the gods watched on in horror as their work came undone.
For war had come again. The Wise, ever believing themselves superior, sought dominion over the estranged remnants of the Wild. Experiments, cruel and despicable, magic to bind and tear at the essence of a race, turning the proud beast to savagery and vicious carnage. To this the Majestic would not stand, with fire and claw, with wings aloft and flights calling denouncement from the skies they torn at the spires of the Wise. The once proud Majestics fell one by one, to magic and technology, as bolts of lightning followed bolts of steel, balls of lead, chains of iron, to bring down the Kings of Land, Sea and Sky.
But the Wise were not strong enough to withstand, towers toppled, citadels vanished, and the world crumbled once again. Not far from this place lies a great ocean, behind mountains, of water fresh and clear. In that place the greatest palace of the Wise once stood, Erebos. The Dark Citadel of Technology, pulling the life from the world to manipulate as they willed.
It was there the last lord of the Wise fell, as the Majestic patriarchs, all seven who survived the tumultuous times before Shess came to this world, brought about the greatest weapon they could. For they were the last of the Great Kings, with their death only the one Queen would remain, the last ruler of the Majestic. In their death they crushed the citadel of the Wise, their great bodies crushing the ground beneath them as they fell to the earth.
Deep in that sea you might just find their bones, resting in place where the Age of Immortals came to a close. And who knows what secrets remain buried in the dark realms, twisted by Wise men driven to madness under the weight of Kings.” Strange old man, teaching from a battered old book outside of the Crescent Sanctum, in the third century of the Age of Dreams
“No matter how I begged him he would not relinquish the book from which he read. I would sell my children, my soul, my heart to him for that book. I read but one page while he was not looking, it spoke of the migration of Humans to the north, of the founding of Toladira. How we were set there by Remnat in the Age of Elders to succeed the Elven Queendom of Tolan. We knew parts of this, but the book fit the entire history of Toladira on one page, for when I finished reading it began again, with new writing just as I returned to the top. The Book of Ages, how does this man have such a thing?” Evella Limisi, eight Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams
[b] Age of Founding
“We know so little of the Age of Founding it is saddening, but how could we? The gods were not yet gods, the mortal races as of yet unborn, the world unmade. All we have from the Age of Founding is the Origins of our World, a single text from the Age of Immortals.
Perhaps we are not meant to know, but I feel it is in our nature to seek out such knowledge no matter how hard to find.” Benel Honare, Scholar of Ainae, in the fourth century of the Age of Seven

“With a streak of silver the sky was torn asunder, the broken land stretching out to reach it. A bolt of light and lightning flowed from a device in the sky, a gate to infinity. The world was remade, the impure cast aside, the broken and shattered restored to glory.” The first moments of the Age of Founding, unknown source

[b] Age of Immortals
“Even of the Age of Immortals there is little known, only that the Majestics ruled the Land, Sea and Sky and the Wise ruled the realm below the surface of the world.
They had a war, one which near exterminated them both, but why is unknown, where is hidden from us. The gods may know, but avoid any question relating to the immortal races.
A few scatterings of ruins remain from this ancient age, the Leaping Gates, the Spires of Ivinth and the Pharos at the Gap. So many ruins we hardly know about, cannot understand and would learn so much if only we could.” Benel Honare, Scholar of Ainae, in the fourth century of the Age of Seven
“We build on the lands of immortals, we stand on their shoulders and laugh, for they fell before the sands of time. As we will not, as we cannot. For we are the True Human Peoples, and we stand united against all foes!” Hall of Alandras, in the third century of the Age of Dreams
“The Immortals ruled Land, Sky, Sea, the Earth and the Wilderness of the world; three, not two. Though one is forgotten in history, for only stones, only trails and way markers, stand as proof to their lives.” Seralis, the Oracle, in the Age of Elders
[b] Age of Gods
“’Twas the Age of Gods, the Time of Gods, when they roamed the land, when they searched for more to join them. They had died, died deaths that only gods could, the elder ones that is. For many came in that first streak of silver long ago, but now so few, seven, only seven remained. Seven of thirty six! So many seats to fill, duties to be taken. The time of rising gods it was, to enter the world and take their place amongst the divine.” The Monk of Carnea, in the second century of the Age of Elders
“Anastasia, Normai, Sulane, Penai, Sorame, Anural, Alimah, Minosi, Alandras, Livisi and Livari, so many gods came to be in the Age of Gods. It is here we attempt, try so dearly, to keep record of all gods, of the birth and death of every divine to have ever been. But there are so many, too many. There are names we do not know, realms so far from our own we could not no; forgive us distant gods, for we cannot give you the due faith deserving of a divine being.” Guide to True Faith, from Carnea Monastery, in the third century of the Age of Seven
“The Age of Gods was short when compared to the Age of Immortals, or even to the Age of Elders. But it was a great age, for with the shackles of the Immortals broken many races stepped up to contend for power. The Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes and Giants may have taken precedence in much of the world, but still the short lived races struggled on. Gaining strength across the world, as they made their own cultures and civilisations in the shadow of those elder than they.” Seralis, the Oracle, in the Age of Seven
[b] Age of Elders
“Of the five great peoples we Dwarves, we sons and daughters of Stone and Law are the only ones that remain. Of all those who claimed greatness only we could stand against the tides of Chaos that poured against us, only the Law and Order of our people allowed us to survive. From this day we shall stand proud, knowing the embrace of the unstable magics tore apart our only competitors in this world.” Dwarven Matriarch of Anis, in the seventh century of the Age of Elders
“Five peoples ruled in the Age of Elders: the Dwarven Matriarchy of Anis, backed by dozens of clans and allies of shorter lived races between their home and their foes. The Elves of Cenar, a wild and savage, nature loving people, split across the Gap of Lor, a channel of water between the Peninsula of Lor and the continent of Tarnath. The Giants of Zo; the great reaches of their Empire which stretched from their home in Zomath to their colonies on the Yomathi shore, two thousand miles away. The Gnomes of Pyre, the volcanic island of invention and ingenuity. They had little land, but ships that soared in the skies and technology that rivalled that of the Wise.
And at the last, the most widely known of them all, the Elves of Yivith. For they were masters of magic, high or low, arcane or divine, light or dark. All of the lands of Tonarath did they rule, and through gates of magic did their reach spread to Yomath, Tarnath, Ainslie and Loam. Magic at their beck and call they were the greatest of the elves, and when they fell so did much of the magic of the world. For the veins of magic were drawn to their lands, drawn to sustain their thirst. And with the end the veins were cut, and their people starved, stunted and weak, behind shields erected hastily and with little foresight.
All but the first fell, as the Fae came through any gate of magic and invaded our world. Only the Dwarves, shunning magic as they had, were left untouched by the Fae hordes.” Benel Honare, Scholar of Ainae, in the fourth century of the Age of Seven
“The greatest loss, one must know, is that as the great and fair Yivithi. For Felmi, mother to the elves, goddess of High Magics died in the Faerie Invasion. She held the hall of arcana, where the gates of the realm reached from the capital to countless far off lands. She held the fae at bay long enough for so many to escape, but still she died. Overwhelmed by chaos, by the dancing, clawing, uncaring hands of the faeries.” Yivithi Refugee, in the second century of the Age of Seven
“The Gates will Open, the realms will split, four of five shall fall, and the newcomers will give hope to the world, but spell doom to the kings and queens. For as the Gates Open it shows there is a path through the Beyond, to the place that Once Was.” Oracles of Seralis, the third order, in the Sixth century of the Age of Elders
[b] Age of Seven
“Seven lands stand tall and proud, we will be the shiny pinnacle of civilisation in this world. Humanity shall stand tall to lead the way, even as the elders fall behind we shall rise up to take on the mantle of past glories. May the Sevenfold Court hold fast in this world until time breaks apart on the shores of oblivion.” Gormanion, Herald of the Seven at the summit of Azin, in the first century of the Age of Seven.
“Ainae, the nation of rivers and water hidden behind endless sand. Toladira, the kingdom in the mountains beloved by Gods and founded in Hope. Scaran, the sleeping kingdom waiting on the call of fate to claim their debts. Lain, the land of plenty, where harvest begets harvest and life is good and merry for all. Len, the land of dragons where men mingle with wyrm in a dance millennia old. Aralia, a place of many peoples and conflict endless, but strong and proud do they take part. And at the last, Enhal, the land of technology, where machines are made to do the work of men and lend progress to the world. The Sevenfold Court stands to lead the world forward, for we hold the last Gates of Yivith open to travel the world. May the alliance of the Seven stand for all time!” Gormanion, Herald of the Seven at the summit of Azin, in the first century of the Age of Seven.
“It must have been a great joke for the gods; we, simple mortals, short lived and weak as we are, claiming to be the greatest civilisation ever to have lived. Hah, a mere two centuries since our forming and two of our number fallen to nothing save their own folly. Enhal, brought about machines of death that destroyed their land, their peoples ruined and fields barren. Aralia, embroiled in endless civil war, where kings kill kings for naught but a scrap of land little more than the size of a gnat.
Five of seven remain, but for how long can we survive? In Scaran expectation grows for the fate that looms overhead. In Len they are swayed from the alliance by the dragons, how is the Sevenfold court to survive if its number stands beaten and broken before it has yet grown old?” Domorvian of Lain, Herald of the Seven at the summit of Ainis, in the third century of the Age of Seven.
“We were the last of the Seven to fall; and fall we will. Toladira burns, Ainae is bathed in plague, Lain is ripped apart and Len abandoning us all to the demons. Scaran laughed at us, for they knew it was coming, their fate encompassed the whole world. They walked into the desert as the demons came and gave up on life just as life began to end.
We won’t forget the Sevenfold court. No. We will not forget the alliance forged in the Hope of a better world, by the hands of the God of Hope, of Humanity. Though our dream died another may yet come about. So flee my people, don’t let history die again, don’t let pride become complacency, don’t let civilisation crumble a fourth time.” Writings of Armenus Tertalli, the first Crescent Mage, in the first century of the Age of Dreams
“Don’t let the patriots fool you, we did not fall because of Len abandoning us. No, we were decadent, foolish and weak. All of us. Lain was fat on rich trade and bountiful harvests, Ainae cared for nothing save scrolls, knowledge and pieces of ancient magic. And we, the Toladirans, we were no better. We were proud, so very proud, we held ourselves aloof in the belief our gods were supreme, that no ill could befall us.
We were wrong, so very wrong. So unbelievably wrong. Weak and fools we were, unable to safe our god, our greatest leader, as our own people sold us into the flames for the gifts of demons.” Tyrus Namintae Clovosus, the second Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Demons
“The seven will fall, just as those that came before. As will all, when their time ends and the waves of eternity break upon the shores of reality.” Oracles of Seralis, the seventh order, in the third century of the Age of Seven
[b] Age of Demons
“In the time of elders the world was small, connected through gates of magic and portals mysterious. In the Age of Seven it grew, as much of the old magics were lost as the Yivithi were torn down by their own power. But in the Age of Demons the world grew larger still, as mere miles from the capitals of the world demons roamed the land and angels flew forth to battle them.
In all the lands of the world did demons and angels war, but though angels attacked mortals not, they cared not for them either. If in their path did a man stand, he would be tossed aside like a sack of flour, given no more thought than a stone.
And even as we came to understand them, to avoid and secret ourselves away, did they come for us at last. Not to kill, maim or harm, but to steal to change, to transform, to angelify. For their numbers dwindled while we were many, so our young men, women and wise ones did they steal. To turn into soldiers to fight in their Demon War.” Unknown scholar, in the first century of the Age of Demons
“The greatest loss of the Demon War was not the gods who lay slain, the countless thousands dead at the lands of angel and demon alike. No, it was the illusion of peace that had long lain on the world, for as it shattered all men then knew their aspirations could bear fruit. Princes usurped kings, lords rebelled against lords, common men took up arms and went to war. The world changed in a moment, and went against the path of peace, the path of calm survival. Now we live in a dream, a dream of better times, when the world was connected and people wiser. When the common man did not starve to death as he works to feed his kin.” Unknown scholar, in the first century of the Age of Dreams
“Many things happened in the Age of Demons that none remember, that none ever will know. For as fire rained down, as angels called crusade, as armies marched to war all learning was put to the flame.
There were once a dozen kingdoms in the lands of Rolan, now they are forgotten, stamped out under the dominion of Alandras. The Maray were one small tribe, living amongst the centaurs of the plains, but they fled into the west. And we have not seen them since.
The Lapirdum tribes were wiped out, only a few words remain, a paintings on the cliffs as evidence of their lives. I remember magic that could raise the dead, spells that gave power to trinkets, to truly avert all harm to the bearer.
Now our magics are a mere candle burning in the hearth, our smiths hardly apprentices of old. Our scholars and alchemists rediscover things learn a thousand years ago, to be richly rewarded for their ‘new’ work. I will not live to see the end of the world, but I think it has nearly come for us all.” Last writings of Aves Doman, heretic traitor, in the second century of the Age of Demons
“We fled the terrors that poured from the Gates of Yivith, reaching forth from the capital and stealing away thousands to feed their magics.
We fled our home, our holy land, we watched our god die, our greatest mage fall to treachery. Our own lords turned to demons for power, princes of hell they are now, lording over the souls them damned to oblivion.
And now we walk across the desert stand to the sea, I see masts of ships waiting. A fleet of hundreds, maybe even thousands. They are not human, the men aboard those ships, but they give us shelter and time to mourn. We will owe these men, these ape-men, the Hadozee, a debt till the end of time.
I know not who their god is, but I pray to him each night, for he saved Toladira from the fall. He saved the ten thousand of us who fled and abandoned Hope on that day.” Writings of a Toladiran refugee, from the first century of the Age of Demons
“I will now recount fact, not propaganda. You see, this island we live upon now, this isle of Aran, was inhabited before we came. Giants, a single tribe of Ice Giants lived here, they were the Aran. It was they who give their name to the isle and the straight between us and Tonarath.
When we came we settled on the shore north of Diran, a small town stands there to this day. We were attacked by the giants after the fourth year on the isle, for we were many and they were few. We moved into the isle and took their hunting grounds, their forest gardens and even built atop their landscape sculptures.
We invaded their land, so they tried to drive us out. With magic and weapon to bear, fear still in our hearts from the fall of Toladira, we lashed out and decimated them. And in revenge for those few of us who had died our king, young and reckless, declared war.
We stole this land, we killed its people. We murdered the Aran, man woman and child. We are not faultless, never forget that. We all carry our sins.” Silvia Kalia Mirarva the fourth Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Dreams[/SIZE]
“Though the demon war lasted only the first two decades of the Age of Demons, the ramifications lasted centuries. Beasts, twisted by foul magics still wander the world, whole cultures were warped by demonic influence. Many fell into their clutches, and even now worship demons in the hopes of gaining their power, even going so far as to become one.
Though the Age of Demons has ended, I feel we will never see the end of the horrors it unleashed.” Lavinus Tapius Armenus, the fifth Crescent, in the first century of the Age of Dreams
“Here and now Rolan is united at last. No more do its peoples war in the name of false gods, for unjust kings and cruel lords. All are united under the banner of Humanity, all are united under Alandras, Son of the World, King of Humanity. The One True God of Humans. All hail the holiest of the holy, Alandras!” First proclamation of the Hall of Alandras, after the unification of Rolan, in the second century of the Age of Demons
“The Maray found the Ela, Rocasa shook off its pride, the Centaur turned to Overiat, Rolan stands united, Orgal took up the blood of Ardash and claimed godhood, and the Tolarans arrived in the south. So many events in such a short time, story upon story, tales without end. For a time the world’s eye stared nowhere else, as the Twin Watchers, Sorame and Penai, curiously studied this once quiet part of the world.
But as time will pass the focus will shift, for who knows where the world will dream most vividly next. But for now the eye of the world is upon Tonarath, the southerly lands and all who inhabit them.” Limpeh the Shadow Sage, in the Age of Demons
Age of Dreams

“The dream is nearly over, soon the jackals will cry. Their grandfather passed through, and at last it will be his time to die. And with their cry shall fall the sky, as the prison seals come apart and at last chaos will begin to reign. Unless mortals take up the strain.” Prophecy of the Ending Dream, by Divi’sun, from the sixth century of the Age of Dreams
“The Age of Dreams, where we dream of a better world, one left untouched by demons, dragons and creatures from outside the world. We dream a land peaceful and free, without dictators, famine or plague. But we dream for naught, for it will be never be in this world that was put to the flame.” Mournful bard, on the name of the Age of Dreams, in the second century of the Age of Dreams
“The Age of Dreams has seen several major events in Tonarath, but most of them were sparked during the Age of Demons, merely taking much time to occur. The Benarish migration, the dwarves left their homes in the Lapirdum Mountains after a fierce siege by the demons. Their only reason for the migration; ‘They killed off the bees, we were running a little low on mead for all of us. So they kicked us out, by the way, this place is great for bees.’ As if the demons were an afterthought to proper maintaining proper apiculture! But I digress.
The other event which is of great note in the first few centuries of the Age of Dreams was the Rolani invasion of Elemaray. Neither side wishes to speak of it much, but it was when Tolarus first became involved with the continent in full. The Knights of Vernand, our elites atop gryphons were sent to protect our interests in Elemaray, and with our magic drove back the Rolani armies and heroes.
Several Marayan towns were burned, but they survived mostly unscathed. The animosity of that war pushed Elemaray towards Tolarus, and away from Rolanary. To the benefit of all of our people, of course.” Evella Limisi, the eighth Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams
“The dreams are merely a symptom of a great danger, waiting beyond the horizon. We have yet to see if any will manage to stop the fall begun an age ago.” Oracles of Seralis, the twentieth order, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams
“There is little to say on the Age of Dreams, it was and will be. The legends speak for themselves, as the races. This age is not yet truly a part of the greater histories.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams
“The ancients wake, the sleepers stir in their dreams, the gods plots have ended and plans are put into action again. Mortals beware, for the Dreams of Peace are ending, and the world stands on the brink a fourth time.”
“I Am Damodred. Behemoth of the Icy Wastes. I wake to the sounds of war, the sounds of waves braking on the peace in the world.
Damodred slumbers no more. In this place there shall be no war. Lest the anger of eons be awoken in the oldest of the old. For even the Four feared the sleepers. And the sleepers have awoken.” Damodred, the Ancient Sleeper, waking in the presence of two children, on the Isle of Aran, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams
“There were no Gods in the old world, only the Sleepers, the children of Reanven. Ancient beyond measure, powerful beyond reckoning, and angry at what was done to their mother by the folly of the Four. They have slept for five thousand years, to awake at last to the drums of war.” Shess, speaking to Seralis the Oracle, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

Legends
“Shadow Sage they call me, I suppose that is true. I hardly endear with my face hidden in shadow, my body shrouded entirely in a dark robe. But that is not my intent. No more than I care for love, hate or lust I care little for how others treat me.
Even if the people of the world hates me, I care not. The world does not. Well, not yet at least.” Limpeh, to Melias, in the fourth century of the Age of dreams

“I say greetings to the Sanctum of the Crescent! How say you give a weary traveller refuge in return for a few tomes? I hardly have need of them, but it seemed a waste to leave them on a sinking ship.” Strange old man, to the eighth crescent, Evella Limisi, in the third century of the Age of dreams

“A deluge of tomes, more than thirty, were donated to the Sanctum a mere month ago. Thirty tomes, in seven different languages! Two of the tomes are language aides, made to help one learn a language known as ‘Yivithi’ and the other ‘Zoi’. It is good we have these books, as many of the other tomes are ancient, and written in these languages. [/SIZE]

So many ancient legends, so many mysteries. We had long thought these southerlands savage, only Scaran in the south even vaguely civilised. No, I think not. There are secrets here that stretch back into Ages we didn’t even know existed. Questions to be answered, and answers to be questioned? Or so they say in these lands of Tonarath.” Evella Limisi, the eighth Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“Don’t ask, just tell. You’ll learn enough listening by yourself.” Inscription left on the steps of the Crescent Sanctum, from the second century of the Age of Dreams

Sabenorndrassil, the Tree of Infernos
“Oh the roots do spread, the seed is fed, the land turns to sand as its flames sears asunder all that watch on in wonder.
Thrice a year shall it bloom, thrice a cycle shall the seed be spread, spread to all who should be wed beneath the boughs of the Tree of Infernos. When all is said the flames shall spread, seed given to seed of those that are wed.” Tablet of the Inferno, a carved obsidian tablet at the base of the Sabenorn, dating from the Age of Gods

“As the great tree glows it blooms, flowers grow across its great branches and emit the brightest of lights. The very sky warps to the heat of the tree, but a single path stretches out into the desert. One path and one alone, to reach the tree and receive its blessing.
The path with burn away sin, sear away imperfection, cleanse all in the flame before they are presented before the Inferno of Light and Flame that is the Tree of the World, Sabenorn.” Tales of the Flame Seekers, eighth chronicle, from the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“Immortality. Power. Wealth. If I could just reach that tree, if I could just partake of the Tea of the Inferno, the brew of the leaves of flame. If I could just… I would have it all.” Dying king of Rolan, from the first century of the Age of Demons

“Planted in the Age of Gods by the Four Gods of the World; Eithana, Lombandi, Trestantill and Melias, the tree of Fire and Light Sabenorn. The great tree of the South, the tree of the World Flame, the heart of Passion, the core of Emotion, the bonds of light and mind. All decisions are made out of passion, save in those who abandon it all to be something less, something apart from the world. Let the flame take root, let emotion reign and guide the path with the light of a raging inferno of passion.” Benel Honare, Scholar of Ainae, in the fourth century of the Age of Seven

“None may claim the power of the World Trees for themselves. They can only pass that power on, mother to child. Conceive a child beneath the branches of that tree, drink of its tea or bask in its glow and its power shall be passed down. But no, never for one who seeks it for themselves. Immortality must be pursued by another path, one far less forgiving.” Alimah, at the Speaking Ground of the Sage, to Garon the Surefooted in the first century of the Age of Dreams

D20ragon
2013-12-22, 07:44 PM
Wow. I was drawn in by your last thread, and it's happening again.
Permission to use/steal certain elements or use this setting?(for inspiration or a campaign)
I will try to think of constructive things to say.

Subscribed.

Also, I may use the technique you used for description in my next worldbuilding project(coming soon!)

QED - Iltazyara
2013-12-22, 08:09 PM
Feel free to use anything I post on here as inspiration. Even lifting pieces I don't mind. I enjoy doing this, so if someone finds it useful, why not?

Continuation of Chapter 5, Overspill
The Fire Eyed Angel
“The town of Sria was deemed unimportant until very recently. A small farming village, with few worries beyond a few packs of wolves and the occasional goblin bandits. This all changed when the Hero, Gem Villaran, returned from his assault on the dwarven outpost of Bernis.
For Gem had contracted some vile disease from those foul half-men, poisoning his blood from the honourable wounds gained in combat. Gem found shelter in Sria, the closest church of Holy Alandras to the half-men’s outpost.
There, he was tended by the priestess Hen Atrim, a humble healer with little skill. Blessed with the chance to prove herself she worked day and night to cure Gem Villaran of his wounds.
On the third night her desperate prayers came to fruition, and was granted by Alandras the power of a most Holy Angel. Gem Villaran was healed, and Hen Atrim was given the greatest of blessings. To live as an embodiment of Alandras himself, a healer of heroes. So few have earned such a blessing, the Fire Eyed Angel is renowned across all of Rolanary.” Account of Hen Atrim’s Ascension, from the Hall of Alandras, in the fifth century of the Age of dreams

“My name is… Was. My name was Hen, Hen Atrim. And I was given no choice.
The gods are great beings, powerful, grand, unknowable, and unknowably cruel. I was a simple priest, nothing more than a simple healer of cuts and fevers. But then the hero came, injured and dying. Alandras favours his heroes, did you know that? He values them over ten thousand normal men or women. I was no exception.
He forced his power into me, stole my body and used it. An Avatar, he used me as an avatar, a simple village priestess. I nearly died. I wish I had. Now I’ve lost my humanity, I can’t disobey him, oh gods, I hate him. But I love him. I have to serve him, oh great Alandras, forgive me.” Hen Atrim, Cherubim Angel in service to Alandras, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams, words deemed as heresy by the Hall of Alandras. [/SIZE]
“Angels are always Holy Beings, infused with magic of healing, purification and protection. The positive energies. But do not think this makes them champions of good. No, they are champions of the divine. Whomever that divine, good or evil, may be.” The Guidance to True Faith, from Carnea Monastery, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“When I first became a Holy Dragonslayer, a Hero of Rolan, I found it strange our greatest healer, the one dedicated to the heroes by our god, would live so far from the capital. But once I met her, Hen Atrim that is, I understood. She cares for the people of Sria, when I asked her why she said she always had, that some of them were even her great grand nephews and nieces.
I don’t know what happened to make her so sad, but I refused to treat such a kind person as a tool for healing. I now visit Hen regularly, once every season at least, just to talk even if I am unharmed and well.
I think, perhaps, I am the first Hero of Rolan to be able to call an Angel friend. Perhaps the first in all of Rolan.” Heath, Holy Dragonslayer of Rolan, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“The gods are cruel. For men and women to live they must love and be loved by a god. For life to continue the gods must survive. For life to end the gods must remain alive. The gods are cruel, for fate is woven by their whims.” Travelling sage, from the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

The Darkness of Erebos
“Underneath the Sea of Rolan there are great ruins of some ancient civilisation. Steel and stone melded together to make rooms, tunnels, corridors and cities beneath the earth. There are riches there, yes, but danger too. In those dark places having a light is more deadly than not, for fire catches on death and creates an inferno. Light attracts demons, aberrations and beasts, all hungry for fresh food, flesh. Meat. The darkness should remain dark, lest life be snuffed out alongside light.” Adventurers warning, Rolan, from the fourth century of the Age of Seven

“There are many things in the darkness of old tombs, skeletons moving by the will of some ancient curse, carrion eaters hibernating in wait for their next meal. But we expected those, dealt with them. We didn’t expect this. A wall of green gel moved towards us. Slow enough that we hardly paid it any attention, hell, half of us didn’t even see it. There were more imminent threats. But eventually it caught up. Silently it moved up and grappled Merel, drawing her into itself. At first the men watched in fascination, as her clothing dissolved. Then horror as her flesh soon followed. They ran, one horror too many. I ran too. Far too many horrible things in those dark tunnels. But then she caught me, Merel that is, her skin dripping with the slime of the cube, she said ‘I remember… Liking you. I won’t eat you, talk with me, teach me, I want to know. I want to know what “Merel” means, what my name means. What having a name means.’ It was then I noticed the weapons of the other men embedded in her, from her wounds that same green gel dripped out. She had killed them. Dissolved them, nothing but bones remained. I don’t remember much else, but never again will I go into the dark world. Never again.” An adventurers tale, Rolan, from the second century of the Age of Dreams

“We don’t dig around in trash, muck and poison for magic. We dig around for artefacts of whatever people build this place. Sticks of everlasting, flameless, non-magical light. Stones that explode with more force than a mages spell. Swords that not only slash and pierce, but also fire death at the will of the wielder. There are things of no magic, but great power, down, in that dark place.” Adventurers tale, Rolan, from the fourth century of the Age of Seven
“No matter the riches it is not worth it down in that place. I would rather face a dragon and her spawn than enter that pit again. Nine hundred men, three years, nothing but scars, illness and death to show for our success.” Darian, Holy Dragonslayer of Rolan, from the first century of the Age of Dreams

“…Speak, Orc. The Oracle will answer.”
“Where stands axe of ORGAL.”
“In the shadows of the sea that sees no tide, under the stones of your foes. In the dark place left abandoned by those wise, and searched by those not.”
“Tomb of Gnash-Men! The debt will be paid! Drek spakes this. Oracle! Drek word given.” Warchief Drek, at the Oracle of Seralis, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“The corruption runs deep under the land of Rolan, for the lay-lines slowly crumble under the weight of their mad god. Who knows what survives in the shadows of that land. Where no holy might stands to hold the veil shut.” Paladin Lord of the Order of Holiest Dawn, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

Grove of Hamalia
“The Grove is the only forested land in the plains of Maray. Every few months the elders of the Ting-Tar tribe would take us near the place, go inside for a single day and then return with a strange, blue fruit. It was this fruit that intrigued me the most, but I was denied a chance at one. I was only told it was the central part of a Centaur warrior’s coming of age ceremony.” Irania Staln, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“In Hamalia was the first pact made by our Father so long ago. Twice he was wed to the forest, once for life, twice for death. In Hamalia was the second pact made, of dire need and great regret, for wed are the sons of Hovos to the new pact. Slavery by another name, no longer wed to the forests, now only wed to beasts and madness.” Regret of the Elder Nai-neh, head of the extinct Gin-Neh tribe of Centaur, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

“Hamalia is the heart of the demon-horses of the Maray. We will lead a crusade to burn that filthy grove to the ground, to prove the power of Rolan to those beasts who claim we enslave them! We simply put the beasts in the place they deserve!” Rallying cry of the ill-fated third crusade, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“Lords of the Hall. The third crusade returns. They are… No longer our men, they walk with flowers in their hair, they attack our men on sight. Their will has been stolen, and I know not how.” Commander of the Northern Front, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

The Scion of Nature, Hamalia
“Here we preside, the rulers of civilisation and nature, to mark the marriage of mortal and goddess. The Yivithi and the Arun will bless this marriage to carry their weight onto the children of the bond. Nature itself will grant them reprieve, and the plains of Maray will be theirs until this pact ends and the grove, my grove, wilts and dies.” The Dryad Hamalia, wedding the Goddess Anastasia with the Heroic Centaur Hovos, in the second century of the Age of Elders

“Hamalia, my husband has died… But you, you remain. Why? Were you not to wither when the pact ended? Was the grove that marked our marriage to fade and die?”
“So long as the grove lives so shall the pact. To nature he wedded twice, once to live, twice to die. To the first child of nature did he pass, and beg. Beg to return to watch the children of the plains, and so was he passed to me. The grove shall bloom until the Wooden Horse ceases to rise each cycle, to race across the plains and inspire the children of oath and blood to greater heights.” The Dryad Hamalia, to Anastasia, in the first century of the Age of Seven

“Never pick the flower grown tended but unowned. Lest you become owned, but untended.” Ancient Marayan saying, from the Age of Seven

“A strange blue flower was brought back by the explorer Garon recently, it grows well indoors and seems to inspire creativity. Why it is worn in the hair of near all the young women in the city now, a fashionable accessory to be sure.” Last writings of the Lord of Rolase, before the culling of the possessed, in the first century of the Age of dreams

[COLOR="SeaGreen"] Sand Walkers
“The strange tribe that seems to wander the Scaran Desert endlessly is horrifically dangerous, they attack any who enter the desert on sight. Any men they find are killed, any women raped and left to die in the sand, even the bodyguard who came with me on this journey could not bring one of them down. Behind those veils I wonder what expression lies, as they slaughter so many of us with nary a care.” Last writings of Irania Staln, thirteenth Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“To walk the Scaran Desert is to walk alone, to walk alongside another is to walk towards your doom. Brave be the wanderer, let to pass alone, foolish be the follower, for bringing down the blades upon the two.” Warning written on a stone tablet, set on the Bridge of Silver Stone
“Brother fear thy sister, for she may slay thee. Sister fear thine brother, for he will betray thee.” Only words ever heard from a Sand Walker, spoken to an oracle of Seralis in the year before the Age of Demons

“You ask of the Walkers of the Sorrowful Sands? They Guard the Tomb of Sleepers. You ask of the Tomb? It lies in the stars, in the moon, in the sand and in the mind. You ask of the Scaran? They stand beside the Tomb, but hold open only the Door to the Broken Sanctuary. Your questions answered, it is time to leave.” Oracles of Seralis, to Irania Staln, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“People are far too afraid of the Scaran nomads, they pay you no heed if you aren’t an idiot. They did leave a warning sign you know.” Garon the Surefooted, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

Seralis, the Immortal Mage
“The gods, each and every one of us, thinks their own plans, plots and schemes will either save the world, or gain it for them. Don’t be like us little one, there is no future in the squabbling of the divine. Find your own path; that is the only way to be free” Melias, the Wanderer, words carved into the Rock of Sera, at the heart of the monastery of Seralis

“The word of Seralis is the word of fate. Only she speaks to the Gods and gains answers, only she may ask the questions of fate, only she may seek the knowledge of the Shessian Archive. For to all others the way is barred, locked and sealed since the time of the fore-fathers father. Since the Immortals walked the world in their thousands.” Words of the first order of Seralis, in the first century of the Age of Elders

“I have heard many tales speaking of the Oracles of Seralis as I made my way south, towards the Rocasan Mountains that loom in the distance. Some say it is an order of seers, oracles and priests that has lasted twenty one hundred years. Others that it has existed far longer, since the long past Age of Immortals, for Seralis is a person, an immortal born of two gods eons ago. I hope to dicern the truth for myself during my visit.” Irania Staln, the thirteenth cresent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“All our forays into the Rocasan lands have ended in failure. The Hall commands the destruction of the half-breed demons of those mountains, but I suspect great magic is on their side. No matter our aproach, no matter how we plan to attack, they know and are ready before we even begin to move. In this place I feel as though even the mountains are watching us, judging us, and spiteful towards our intrusion.” Writings of the Commander of the Western Front, in the third century of the Age of dream

Speaking Ground of the Sage
“With four thousand years of history it is of little surprise there are so many legends in the lands of Tonarath. Dozens of stories and mysteries left unanswered, hidden behind a veil of secrecy.
One of these legends, as dubious as it may be, seems even more implausible than the rest. The Speaking ground of the Sage. ‘The four posted stand in the shadows of the trees, as dusk falls and time slows. Speak there and be heard, by the Dragon of Knowledge, the Sage of Eternity. Alimah.’ Preposterous. A god would never simply stand to answer any who call upon him at some abandoned platform in a forest.” Arkturus Henalus, the seventh, third century of the Age of Dreams

“’Don’t think, speak, I am a busy dragon you know.’ Those were his first words to me. What was I supposed to do? He’s a thrice dam-blessed god! I asked him my question of course, and I know where I’m going next. Suppose it’s about time I settled down, really. He didn’t have to be quite so forceful about it though.” Garon the Surefooted, after visiting the Speaking Ground of the Sage, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“At the Podium of Knowledge does the Dragon wait, to answer a question, so the answer may be questioned.” Oracles of Seralis, the third order, in the fifth century of the Age of Elders
[SIZE="5"]End continuation of Chapter 5

QED - Iltazyara
2013-12-27, 06:44 AM
Added in histories up to the Age of Demons, which is the previous age.

Also, no one else posting? Have I basically produced a giant wall of text no can read? I was somewhat worried about doing that. I didn't like to multi-post, but there was so much to put up.

Reading the whole thing is much easier for me, as I have images to break up the text. But lacking permission I'm not about to put them online, so they'll stay set for personal use only.

mephnick
2013-12-27, 11:27 PM
I always think I want to make my own setting.

Then I read threads like this and my lack of follow through becomes apparent.

Good job though!

QED - Iltazyara
2013-12-28, 09:20 AM
If I look back at what I used to do I'd get a similar feeling as well, this is around revision four and a half, with a complete style change on many things.

A paragraph for races, barely describing the shape of the world, not considering interactions between cultures. I made a lot of mistakes when I started, still do, three years isn't that long to become practiced at this sort of thing.

I must have a hundred thousand words I've sidelined as "Look at, use as a base, then discard" because they are so old, badly written and unfitting for the world.

Starting small is what some people say makes it easier, I think they're right, but in the wrong way. Start small with your descriptions, your ideas, make one race with a brief "Cutesy fuzzy things with bad tempers" then another "gentle giants with four arms and horns" then figure out how they interacting. From that you build up a bit of the world, something fun. It's just a case of working at it constantly.

And always, some of my favourite pieces, are those shortest of all. Never disparage yourself because you only have a few words of description, say something right and it means more than a book the size of the Faerun campaign setting.

Thanks for the compliment, I still have a lot to finish and put up here, so there'll be more after a while.

Q.E.D

QED - Iltazyara
2014-01-01, 08:09 PM
Well, I went into my document and adjusted my font size down (one) notch. From Calibri 11 to Calibri 10, suddenly I was assaulted by empty white space.

I then filled white space. And gained seven thousand words.

I then decided to post my changes, edits and additions into these posts. Nothing fit within the 50k character limit.

Oh gods why. Why did I decrease the font size a third time.

On another note, I've added a bunch of pieces to most of the entries, they're at the end of each race/god entry, and I put in the Age of Dreams. Suppose it's not the best way to update, but everything is meant to be together so I'm doing it like this.

QED - Iltazyara
2014-01-12, 06:54 PM
This post is going to be shorter than the others; locations are somewhat tedious to do, and quite difficult to detail. So I’ll put up the one area I have finished, which is the Isle of Aran, or the land of the Tolarans. Depending on whether the speaker, or writer, knows their history.

This chapter also betrays that my naming is not always inspired, instead simply picked up from the ‘overused’ trolley. Naming things gets boring eventually.
Chapter 3: Locations


The Isle of Aran
“Ancient Aran, once the last refuge of the Giants in the south, now the last refuge of the humans of Toladira, Lain and so many other lost nations. Turmoil is engraved into its stony heart, the mounts freeze over with the tumultuous echoes of the wind of change, but ever does Aran wait. Patiently waiting, for the next gathering to claim the isle for their own.” Limpeh, the Shadow Sage, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

Cites of Aran
“The three cities of that small island dwarf even our great capital. One of their citizens even claimed that their capital, Dira Imperia as they call it, housed three hundred thousand souls. I could not take accurate count, as my reasons for remaining grew thinner as time passed, but I think it plausible such a number could reside in their auspicious capital.” Heretical Rolani spy, before being executed for a lack of respect, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

Dira Imperia
“Once Toladira, the city at the heart of our people, held more than a million inhabitants. But even as we strive to recreate such a wondrous city we fail at even the most basic of means. For with walls to constrain our new capital we cannot expand, without the great aqueducts to bring water from afar, planned roads and standard design our city will fall to plague long afore we reach such a place.
So, to the Emperor I address this letter, control the builders who work to assemble homes for their families, take up the mantle of the hated ruler. For if you do not tens of thousands will die from your inaction. Perhaps not now, not in ten years, or even a hundred. But die they will all the same.” Calcer Metin, the third crescent, in the first century of the Age of Dreams

“I had heard many a thing of this ‘Dira Imperia’ from the self-important Tolaran snobs. Eventually, for a reason only the Hold Master knows, I was given the title ‘Ambassador to Tolarus’, what I thought was an empty title.
Hah! Shipped across that sodding straight, on something more made for sinking that floating, to some damnable stuffy military city. The guards constantly took offence to my traditional garb; I went war-clad as is proper for a first emissary. Axe, war-paint, even my grandfather’s troll skull helmet. It was as though they expected me to kill someone.
All my irritation though, that went when we got to the capital. The walls of stone were as if pulled out of a mountain, the buttresses works of art, the Imperial Palace itself some grand building that towered above all else. It must be at least 600 foot tall, reaching up with hardly a seam visible in the stonework. Magic must have been involved, but done so elegantly as to be imperceptible. I, Gonmar Darvison, may die happy knowing I have seen the greatest building in these backwards southerly lands.” Gonmar Darvison, first dwarven ambassador to Tolarus, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

Aquilia
“It was in the early second century of this age that my family founded the city of Aquilia, to guard the river which took on our name, from any who threaten the southern lands of Aran. We were a military family, who had conquered the island for the Emperor, and saw the strategic importance of the place.
The imperial garrison, the training ground of the legions, still remains here in Aquilia near a hundred years later. Five thousand soldiers permanently stationed in Aquilia, to provide against any possible invasion and to train those who intend to enter the ranks.
Should war come to Tolarus again, or to any we call allies, Aquilia will rally. Rally to lead Tolarus to glorious victory once again.” Patirus Aquilus, the sixth Crescent, in the third century of the Age of Dreams

“The very stones of the city seemed to repel me, tell me to cower, to hide, because a hunter was after my blood. Unease is the natural state for an outsider in Aquilia, everywhere one looks soldiers are patrolling, guards are stationed, and people about their business in an orderly, efficient manner.
It is no place for a merchantman. That is for sure.” Marayan merchant, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

Vernand
“The city of Vernand is perhaps renowned, even legend, in some ways. But they are unsavoury, unpleasant; a history of battles between the nobles, waged with coin, ships, poison and mercenaries has led to Vernand being best known for the Sons of Vernand. The elite mercenary core who ride atop griffons, to rain spell born death upon their targets before closing for the kill. It could well be said the Sons of Vernand hold the peace of the city at knife point, only to sell it to the highest bidder.
And yet, despite all this, Vernand remains a bustling centre of commerce that outstrips Aquilia and Dira Imperia in size. As such there has been no imperial influence exerted to quell the cities unrest, so long as civilian lives remain unaffected.” Berlicus Patarius, the ninth crescent, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

Districts of Aran
“There are four districts in Tolarus, from the northern marshes and fields of Kalan, the forests, hills and mountains of Tolan, to the small isle of Rodai; said to be ruled in secret by some ancient witch. Preposterous, of course, as the military arcanists in Aquillia and Teren would have discovered such a witch long ago.” Scholar of the Crescent Sanctum, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

Kalan
“Long ago, seven hundred or more years in truth, we landed on the northern shore of what we now know as the district of Kalan. It was there, in the bogs, marshes and fens that we first settled on the isle of Aran. Ten thousand men, women and children, ten thousand refugees fleeing the uncertain fate of their homeland.
Only to be greeted by damp, sodden, waterlogged land unlike any they had ever known. We may have arrived there first, but we stayed not long, instead taking over the ruins of the Aranish Giant’s capital and the lands surrounding it.” Scholar of the Crescent Sanctum, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Kalan, for the most part, is a flooded place with little to say for it. One could get lost in the marshes and never come out, with mirages and sprites leading you astray until you starve. Only around the Tolan Mountains or the Diran Mountains is the ground solid enough to live on, and all that is, is turned to farming for the capital and mines of Kalanai.” Tolaran fen trawler, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

Teren
“There isn’t much to say about Teren, Terenai or anything around here. We’re farmers, legionnaires, the soldiers and workers the rest of Tolara calls for so dearly. Probably the most civilised place in Tolara, and that’s what makes it boring.” Tolaran farmer, in the sixth century of the Age of dreams

“Teren, being the district along the River Aquilia, has long held the same military traditions of the family that holds the name of the river. The time old tradition for completed service was land in the district for farming upon retirement, but now it is those same legionnaires sending their sons to the legions. So now they are granted boons by the Arcanists upon completing their tours, charms to boost health, enchantments of warmth for homes, among many other things.” Scholar of the Crescent Sanctum, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

Rodai
“Rodai, the small isle off the coast of the Teren peninsula, had an indigenous populace long before we arrived, they bowed to our soldiers the moment we touched the shore. Clad in simple linens and leathers, barely more than subsiding off of fishing and gathering the Rodai were a pitiable people. Slaves to any plague, monster or disaster to be cast their way by the gods.
Their deference to us has raised their lives much, cobbled roads, stone and wooden homes, well tilled fields and medicine now support their lives. But they are suspicious of magic, reacting badly to any arcane spells cast near their few holy sites, though the divine worship of our gods fits calmly into the lives. The Rodai are peculiar, but peaceful and a happy part of our Imperium.” Berlicus Patarius, the ninth Crescent, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams

“Bewitch the wicked, blind the unseeing, deafen the unhearing, throw sin to the profane, guard the Witch from those of outside. For she protects our isle, our home place, whispering the words of elders eldest from ancient times long past.” Rodai witch cultist, recorded by a Tolaran farmer, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

Tolan
“Forests shadowed from the sun; snow ever sheltering the land from its glare. Mountains tall, casting down truth from above; leading astray those who would harm those most beloved by the holy maidens. Refuge of song filled voice, place of fortune told in the frosts of morn.” Children’s story, from the Tolan district, from the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

“Tolan is the wilderness of our civilised nation; with the ever wintery forests, the high peaks that brew storms eternally. It is not for a hundred miles down the Imperial Highway that one escapes the wilderness and reaches the fields one would expect anywhere else in Tolara.
But even there they are scare, the land given over to the wild beasts which make the region famous; deer, griffons, wild courser horses. Some even claim to have sighted a dragon in recent years, but such claims have not been validated.
The few farms in the southern peninsula of Tolan are centred around the River Novus, rather than the plains that stretch southward to the city of Vernand.” Scholar of the Crescent Sanctum, in the seventh century of the Age of Dreams

“Somewhere, deep in the Tolan Mountains, lies the enclave of the Sirens. Towers built of stone, palaces left in the high mountains where man may not go, bridges between the highest peaks. To see it is but a dream; but a dream that would never end, as the sirens would never let a man return home again.” Tolaran huntsman, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

Notable Places
“Our isle is small, even lacking in history and legend; likely by the actions of our forebears, whom wished all evidence of the Giants eradicated to high their sin. Cities of old obliterated, texts purged, legends abandoned to time for no reason other than insurmountable guilt. Warranted, perhaps, but only made greater through our actions.” Artellan Domirdan Novus, the eleventh Crescent, in the sixth century of the Age of Dreams

The Imperial Highway
“Across the heartland of Tolara does the Highway run, bespelled to propel travellers across the land at great speed. For a single days march may see one fifty miles down the road, atop horse one may reach Dira Imperia from far away Vernand in a day. For great are the magics of the Crescent, who work spells into the stones laid by the finest craftsmen in the world.” Imperial Architect, in the second century of the Age of Dreams, at the completion of the Imperial Highway.

“Each mile along the Highway a single stone stands, a small bell held in a circular cut of the stone. Each stone marks the mile, but is also Tolarus’ greatest defence. For should an enemy on our shores, at Vernand, Aquilia or even at Dira Imperia itself, the bells shall ring out carrying warning to all within earshot of the highway.” Lavinus Tapius Armenus, the fifth Crescent, in the second century of the Age of Dreams

Mt. Diran
“In fire and stone does the mountain speak the future, of fury and wrath, of destruction and doom, of hell unleashed should duties be failed.” Priest of Eres, in the fourth century of the Age of Dreams[/SIZE]

“The mountains of Diran stand tall, directly behind the capital of Dira Imperia, they are the stone upon which all the capital is built. The foundations of imperial power, it is at their base that all of the Tolaran faithful gather, to mourn our homeland, and revere the God we once had, but long since lost.”
“The volcano of Mt. Diran is the home of the Ustrina, the place where the Ancient Crone resides. Be wary should your venture take you there, for the flames suffer little fallacy, impurity or impropriety. But on those blackened, scorched and ash covered slopes, you may find riches untold, unless the mountain’s denizens take a liking to you and take you as a feast.” Advice of an old Tolaran ash sifter, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams

Isles of Mist
“The western coast of Kalan is shrouded in mist all year round, veiled and secreted away from mortal eye. There it is, there in the mists, the place that the Selkies birth their cubs. On sandy beaches and tiny isles, in the shadows of ancient trees. Lain dwells their, breaking the tide, shielding her children from the storms of the great sea.” Tolaran fisherman, in the fifth century of the Age of Dreams