JinxyJoin Date: 2007-08-04
Post Count: 18317 |
At first there was a great darkness across the blank, featureless land. An ancient being walks it, and he says to himself, "This is my Domain. This is my World. To shape has I please." He reaches the center of the world and raises his hand high up into the air. "This is shall be the Skye Mountains," he says softly to the wind that rises up with the creation of a mountain so tall that it seems to touch the roof of the world. He turns to the south, and waves his hands. "This shall be the Fair Plains," he says quietly. He crosses the fertile and lush plains, and heads to the west. Once he reached the edge of the plains, he raised his hand in an arc from his left to his right.
"This shall be the forests of Bel-Tine." he said, and slowly, from the ground rose a vast forest of ever green trees.
He turned to the north, and walked.
"This shall be Agolia," he said, raising his hands and then lowering them, creating a gouge in the soft land and hardening it into rocks. "A stream shall flow through here." He pulled a few drips of his blood from his body and splayed them down into a huge cascading waterfall which turned into a river at the bottom of the Agolian canyon. He waved his hands across the canyon before him and said, “This land shall be fertile, and great things shall flow forth from it.” And so it was. He turned back to the south and walked again.
The traveler created many more lands, including swamps and deserts across his world. He finally returned to where he started, the Skye Mountains.
He took from the clay of the mountains and molded a short figure with broad shoulders. He copied his template and created another figure, of the opposite gender.
“You shall be the first Dwarves.” He said, breathing air into their lungs, placing fire in their hearts, and water into their muscles to create movement. “You shall go forth into the mountains and create a race skilled in mining.”
He said to the pair. They nod and so it was. He turned to the forests. The man created figures out of leaves and twigs.
“You shall be the first Elves,” he said, and repeated the process of creating life. Flesh and bone formed from the twigs and leaves and he commanded, “You shall become the elves, whose stealth is has legendary has your gentleness. You shall harm no animal, nor partake of no meat. You will make the forest your home.” And so he sent the elves into their homes in the forest and then taking more twigs, and more earth, he created more figures.
“You shall be the first Men.” He said, giving life to them, “And you shall be of both the earth and the trees. You will populate the lands and live how you chose. But you will die the youngest, and learn the quickest.” And so it was, the first three races were created. T
he traveler continued his journey, once more creating many creatures, including the Sleezna, a race of slug like beings who inhabited the Angolian Canyon. There he also placed the Murda, and made them the slowest learning race, and the longest lived. They would populate the canyon and the jungles which were at the end of the gouge in the land.
The traveler then plucked from the cloth of his own deep blue cloak and spread it across the roof of the world and said, “You will be the Sky.” He then returned to the mountains, where he began, and plucked from it millions of diamonds, which he placed into the Sky and said, “You will be the Stars.”
He went deeper into the mountain and selected two of the largest, roundest opals.
“You will be the Moon,” he said to the palest, “And you will be the Sun,” he said to the other.
He hung them in the sky opposite of each other and then has the first day dawned, the traveler vanished into the ends of the night, forever lost in history, for this was not his world. It was the world of one to come.
Three thousand years passed since the traveler turned his back forever on the world, and the first gods had risen. They were animalistic, and were as beasts in their nature. They were called the Primeval, and most were cruel masters.
A being was born one day in the dark belly of the land, a being with the greenest eyes ever seen, and the darkest hair. His skin was pale from his birth place and he was intelligent, kind, and caring. His father was the Sky, and his mother was the land. The Sun was his uncle, and the Moon his aunt. They named him Mithryn.
Mithryn grew to be a large humanoid being, and his intelligence grew with the amount of summers he had seen. His tutors were the Stars who had seen everything under the sun, and his friends were the rocks of the earth that spoke to him. Soon came the time when he was to leave his mother’s loving embrace, and so he came forth from the canyon of Angolia and discovered the a cruel race of god-like beings inflicting horrible pains upon the world and all of its inhabitants.
War was the law of the land, and the Primeval were always making alliances and betraying alliances. So was the land when Mithryn came forth. This, he decided simply would not do. So he went back into his mother’s warm embrace and begged her to provide him with something to end the conflict above.
She reluctantly agreed, and provided him with the metals to create two swords. Nestaru and Destaru. Star of the Night and Star of the Day, he called them. He left through the hole he came through and began recruiting an army tired of fighting for heartless gods like the Primeval.
He first recruited from the Murda, the race closest to his dwelling, and then went on and out to recruit more peoples from more distant lands. Eventually, the Primeval heard of his plan, and some, tired of fighting their brothers and their sisters joined his side.
And a war was raged between those who were called the Primeval who wanted the life to remain has it is at that time, and the Passions, those who wanted to change it. The Passions won against the head Primeval. And Mithryn sealed them up at the mouth of Agolia, and trapped them beneath the land, in the hopes that no race would ever discover them. The Passions were hailed has Gods, and they took residence at the top of the Skye Mountains. This marked the end of the First Cycle.
Mithryn remained on the ground below, choosing to live with the people he freed over the Passions. It was this that sealed his doom. Though the peoples hailed him has a Hero and a God, even naming their land Mythron, in his honor, there were many who wished the old gods, the Primeval would come back.
They were called the Dark Elves, and many were not elves at all. They took their practices underground in the dark and secret places of the world, hoping to find their masters and bask in their eternal glory. They plotted to destroy Mithryn, the symbol of the Passions, and bring about an end to the Passions.
Mithryn took a mortal wife and from her begat several sons and daughters, who all flourished about the land. Tragedy then befell the lands of Mithryn, has he was walking through Agolia one morning, an assassin striving to take Mithryn’s twin blades, struck him down with a single blow to the heart. Before he died, Mithryn swore that only his true family would be able to wield both of his swords at once, and cursed the Assassin and his kin to become the Guardians of the second seals, and so the order of the Angels in the Dark was formed. When Mithryn died, blood sprinkled onto the roses near his death bed and so created the Star of Mithryn, a new breed of silvery roses which soon flourished across the land. And so through the foolish assassin’s blade, the First of the 13 seals were weakened, and the Stars became the seal. This marked the end of the Second Cycle.
It is in sometime during the middle of the Third Cycle that the seals began to weaken. First, the Stars that once flourished through the land began to wilt and fade away.
Next, the river through Agolia’s bottom was destroyed. Where many rapids had once flown, all that remained were rocks and pitted earth. And so the Second seal was weakened.
The Murda began to retreat into the jungle has the Sleezna attacked them more and more often, and so the Fourth seal was weakened.
The earth itself began to rot away, causing the Fifth seal to become weakened.
The Sixth seal was completely destroyed by a bolt of thunder which struck down one of the seven pillars in the Temple of Mithryn.
The Seventh seal was weakened when a Dark Elf’s axe fell into the World Tree.
The Eighth seal was broken when the humans were forcibly mated with goblins, creating a brutish race of beings known has Orks.
The Ninth seal was broken when a necromancer became the first Lich.
The Tenth and Eleventh seal were lost beneath the waves in a mighty ship.
Soon, the lineage of the Angels in the Dark began to weaken as well, until all that remained was the last Angel in the Dark, S’varil, whose name meant the Traveler.
He sought out a way to strengthen his family’s lineage again, and once more protect that which had almost been destroyed, for the Angels in the Dark were the Twelfth seal.
The Thirteenth and Final seal was the very winds that roared through the canyon of Agolia, the Winds of Agolia. It is through this quest that S’varil has come to meet many others to save the lands of Mithryn. However, he also met many who would hinder him. This is the Legend of the Winds of Agolia.
1) It’s highly advised that you READ THE BACK STORY! This contains IMPORTANT INFORMATION!
2) Respect the other players, not necessarily their characters, but their players.
3) You can die.
4) I have the final say in a player v. player combat, unless one of my characters are involved. Then it will be one of the other Admins.
5) I have the final say in player v. non-player combat, it’s not likely that I’ll use either of my final says in the roleplay, but this is just so you know.
6) Just because it’s not in the rules doesn’t mean you shouldn’t follow it. You should.
7) Have fun and enjoy yourself! Don’t be all serious about it.
8) Place in “Other” what the Final Seal is called to be accepted 100% sure that you’ve read and followed the first rule. Though it is possible if your biography is epic enough to be accepted, it’s highly recommended that you do this.
Character Sheet:
Name:
CharacterAge:
Race: (You may make your own, but please, have it approved by me, in a private message.)
Class: (You may make your own, don’t use real-world specific such has Roman Legionnaire or something of that nature.)
Alignment: (Passions, No Alignment, Dark Elf)
Appearance: (Include weapons and armor, please.)
Biography:
Theme: (Optional)
Other:
Name: S’varil
CharacterAge: 23
Race: Fly’the (Meaning, Winged Ones)
Class: Angel in the Dark (assassin)
Alignment: Passions.
Appearance: Long, blonde hair, usually collected into a pony tail at the back of his head, bright greenish blue eyes, a nose of average length has compared to a human, rounded ears. Black feathered wings which can wrap around him to form a cloak strong as steel, and stands at the height of six feet. He battles with a simple iron sword as well as several knives and daggers, and the various vials and phials of his craft around his waist. He also has caltrops and bolas, has well as smoke creating devices that allow him to vanish into thin air.
Biography: S’varil is the last of an ancient line of Assassins called the Angels in the Dark. Unbeknownst to him, he is also the Twelfth Seal of the seals holding back the Primeval. He does know however, that he must preserve at all costs the Winds of Angolia, for if they were to ever die down, the ancient evil his family has been guarding for eons would escape and wreck havoc upon the world. He does not know the true nature of the evil he guards , only that he does it because his father and his grandfather and their fathers and grandfathers did it. He is about to become of age among the Fly’the, but unfortunately he will most likely be celebrating it alone, for his family is all dead.
Theme: The Wanderer by Elvenking
Other: Exempted. |