Cause I'm stoopid...
Oh yeah.. finished that little history bit.
The Dragons
We are the Dragons. We hold the wisdom possessed by only ones who live as long as we do, yet untamed by mortal complications as what the Humans and Elves have created. Our own society is structured, but only so far as knowing whose territory was whose.
There are few of us left, thanks to the many conflicts throughout time. The first of us, the Father of all Dragons was Kellendroth, whose scales shone a brilliant and beautiful platinum. He watched the world grow and flourish, watched even the elves develop as a young species. But as benevolent as the Dragon Father was, he had an offspring that matched him in evil. Vermillyon, the Crimson Scourge, who razed huge swaths of the fledgling races at a whim, became the strongest of his brothers, as strong as his father. Possibly moreso. Kellendroth however, did not intervene until Vermillyon’s presence threatened the life of the world’s children. Theirs was a battle so awesome that it has left its scar upon the other side of the world that will never heal. And, in the end, it was Vermillyon who prevailed. Wounded but alive, he retreated to his caves in the peaks known to the earth children as the Crimson Ridge.
Centuries passed as Vermillyon healed. When he emerged, furious at his kin, he began to hunt his own kind. None could match him, and in our desperation, we forged a pact with the Elves, masters of magic, to rid ourselves of this menace.
Our desperation cost us our freedom.
The elves did their part; if not killing him, they bound Vermillyon to a prison between worlds, forever dwelling in a black empty void. Vermillyon cannot die there, but neither can he destroy from there.
For this bargain, the elves demanded our allegiance in their war for supremacy over their mortal kin, humans. The elves themselves were weak, beaten down in their struggle for survival. But they knew the ways of magic as well as we do, if not more.
The pact cost them two of their own, souls bound to weapons riddled with enchanted gems and scrawled with their runic language. Their magic bound the few of us remaining - and all of our descendants - to the will of those chosen to wield those weapons. And so, mindlessly we fought against the humans, razing their cities at the command of our masters. Unwitting slaves. We were then commanded to hunt those of our own who did not enslave themselves to the elves.
Wiser ones speak of hope: One true to the faith of the Dragon Father shall free us from our slavery. But that hope wanes through time’s passing. As powerful as we are, even we cannot break our prison. Perhaps it is our punishment for condemning one of our own to such a fate.
The Amazons
- as told by Celani, Queen of Anthera
Come, my Daughter, and listen to an old woman for a moment. I fear it may be my final tale, as the Great Mother calls me to Her side. I have told you many tales of our Law, and guided you along the path of successor. But there are other things you must know; let the shamans keep the secrets of the Great Mother, let them perform Her ceremonies. A Queen’s burden lies in the secrets of our histories.
Long ago, we were a city of both sexes. Yes, males once roamed these halls as freely as we do, ruling it as I once did and you shall do after me. The females tried to retain an equal role among the government, but it was difficult. The Prophetess, though her name is lost to us, was the most renown of the females who governed Anthera at that time. She helped the advancement and study of human magic beyond what had been salvaged during the earlier wars. But it was her unique gift, the Sight, that gave her her name. For it was she who foretold of the Antheran male who would bring great pain to the world.
Of course the other leaders laughed at her, despite her well-known gift. She was never wrong. But as males are wont to do, they dismissed her Sight as the hysterics of a woman. And she knew too, that if she pressed the matter, they would kill her. There’s only so much one male can take before one tired of a woman’s nagging, I suppose.
So the Prophetess worked in secret, creating her warriors who would become future amazons. With magic she augment the women, making them stronger than males, able to confront those who thought so little of the ‘fairer’ sex.
They slaughtered the males to a man. Excuse the pun.
But, often is the case that prophecy fulfills itself. Our law is harsh against males born of an amazon, only for the fact that the augmentation continues through amazon children. However, we are still mothers. And one amazon could not find the heart to kill her son at birth. She left him to an Outsider instead to raise.
Hence, we were given Torin Rishael.
And perhaps Torin Rishael would never have been a problem had he not encountered the other guardian. Yes, Daughter, there was another guardian, though none of our shaman ever knew of it. It gave its power to Torin Rishael before we ever began seeking the strange creatures for their aid.
That is another subject I would tell you, my Daughter. We have always told our young ones that the Outsiders cast the creatures we once called guardians against us, long before we tamed them - when in truth it was us who summoned them. Before we were amazons, we were the protectors of human magic and knowledge. None knew where we had fled once the elven wars started, and we kept it that way. One such mage was forced to do so by invoking the creatures. But he died in the attempt; the creatures were never dismissed, and wandered our forests ever since.
Prophecy is another matter, my Daughter. One should never force prophecy, for it becomes a self-fulfilling one, as the Antheran male was. Thousands died, and yet one was born to us years later. Perhaps such a male wouldn’t have been possible without the Prophetess’s augmentations. Perhaps he would never have been so cruel if his own people had not cast him out.
Prophecy also said that one of our Daughters would confront and defeat him, and that she herself would die. Yet, Alexis StormFyre still lives, an Exile in the Outsider’s lands. You see, Daughter, prophecy can be a guide or warning. But never manipulate things on its behalf - you never know that you aren’t inadvertently fulfilling the omen.
It’s a difficult line to walk, Daughter. I only pray your rule isn’t filled with as many secrets as we have made in our past.
The Dragons
We are the Dragons. We hold the wisdom possessed by only ones who live as long as we do, yet untamed by mortal complications as what the Humans and Elves have created. Our own society is structured, but only so far as knowing whose territory was whose.
There are few of us left, thanks to the many conflicts throughout time. The first of us, the Father of all Dragons was Kellendroth, whose scales shone a brilliant and beautiful platinum. He watched the world grow and flourish, watched even the elves develop as a young species. But as benevolent as the Dragon Father was, he had an offspring that matched him in evil. Vermillyon, the Crimson Scourge, who razed huge swaths of the fledgling races at a whim, became the strongest of his brothers, as strong as his father. Possibly moreso. Kellendroth however, did not intervene until Vermillyon’s presence threatened the life of the world’s children. Theirs was a battle so awesome that it has left its scar upon the other side of the world that will never heal. And, in the end, it was Vermillyon who prevailed. Wounded but alive, he retreated to his caves in the peaks known to the earth children as the Crimson Ridge.
Centuries passed as Vermillyon healed. When he emerged, furious at his kin, he began to hunt his own kind. None could match him, and in our desperation, we forged a pact with the Elves, masters of magic, to rid ourselves of this menace.
Our desperation cost us our freedom.
The elves did their part; if not killing him, they bound Vermillyon to a prison between worlds, forever dwelling in a black empty void. Vermillyon cannot die there, but neither can he destroy from there.
For this bargain, the elves demanded our allegiance in their war for supremacy over their mortal kin, humans. The elves themselves were weak, beaten down in their struggle for survival. But they knew the ways of magic as well as we do, if not more.
The pact cost them two of their own, souls bound to weapons riddled with enchanted gems and scrawled with their runic language. Their magic bound the few of us remaining - and all of our descendants - to the will of those chosen to wield those weapons. And so, mindlessly we fought against the humans, razing their cities at the command of our masters. Unwitting slaves. We were then commanded to hunt those of our own who did not enslave themselves to the elves.
Wiser ones speak of hope: One true to the faith of the Dragon Father shall free us from our slavery. But that hope wanes through time’s passing. As powerful as we are, even we cannot break our prison. Perhaps it is our punishment for condemning one of our own to such a fate.
The Amazons
- as told by Celani, Queen of Anthera
Come, my Daughter, and listen to an old woman for a moment. I fear it may be my final tale, as the Great Mother calls me to Her side. I have told you many tales of our Law, and guided you along the path of successor. But there are other things you must know; let the shamans keep the secrets of the Great Mother, let them perform Her ceremonies. A Queen’s burden lies in the secrets of our histories.
Long ago, we were a city of both sexes. Yes, males once roamed these halls as freely as we do, ruling it as I once did and you shall do after me. The females tried to retain an equal role among the government, but it was difficult. The Prophetess, though her name is lost to us, was the most renown of the females who governed Anthera at that time. She helped the advancement and study of human magic beyond what had been salvaged during the earlier wars. But it was her unique gift, the Sight, that gave her her name. For it was she who foretold of the Antheran male who would bring great pain to the world.
Of course the other leaders laughed at her, despite her well-known gift. She was never wrong. But as males are wont to do, they dismissed her Sight as the hysterics of a woman. And she knew too, that if she pressed the matter, they would kill her. There’s only so much one male can take before one tired of a woman’s nagging, I suppose.
So the Prophetess worked in secret, creating her warriors who would become future amazons. With magic she augment the women, making them stronger than males, able to confront those who thought so little of the ‘fairer’ sex.
They slaughtered the males to a man. Excuse the pun.
But, often is the case that prophecy fulfills itself. Our law is harsh against males born of an amazon, only for the fact that the augmentation continues through amazon children. However, we are still mothers. And one amazon could not find the heart to kill her son at birth. She left him to an Outsider instead to raise.
Hence, we were given Torin Rishael.
And perhaps Torin Rishael would never have been a problem had he not encountered the other guardian. Yes, Daughter, there was another guardian, though none of our shaman ever knew of it. It gave its power to Torin Rishael before we ever began seeking the strange creatures for their aid.
That is another subject I would tell you, my Daughter. We have always told our young ones that the Outsiders cast the creatures we once called guardians against us, long before we tamed them - when in truth it was us who summoned them. Before we were amazons, we were the protectors of human magic and knowledge. None knew where we had fled once the elven wars started, and we kept it that way. One such mage was forced to do so by invoking the creatures. But he died in the attempt; the creatures were never dismissed, and wandered our forests ever since.
Prophecy is another matter, my Daughter. One should never force prophecy, for it becomes a self-fulfilling one, as the Antheran male was. Thousands died, and yet one was born to us years later. Perhaps such a male wouldn’t have been possible without the Prophetess’s augmentations. Perhaps he would never have been so cruel if his own people had not cast him out.
Prophecy also said that one of our Daughters would confront and defeat him, and that she herself would die. Yet, Alexis StormFyre still lives, an Exile in the Outsider’s lands. You see, Daughter, prophecy can be a guide or warning. But never manipulate things on its behalf - you never know that you aren’t inadvertently fulfilling the omen.
It’s a difficult line to walk, Daughter. I only pray your rule isn’t filled with as many secrets as we have made in our past.