Old Lore

[RanmaChan]

I lieks dis'n, good job.
Ima follow that art god and, go insane. Insanity is nice.......

Didn't you follow some sea god?  And yeah, I think you did a good job on this Ford, you didn't let me down!  Now, there is one more god you need to add...

I was gonna make a merman religion but, I have put it off till *whats a word for forever*. NEW GOD: Quin Tasin: God of adminyness

I think you were looking for eternity?
I wouldn't mind being a god, just not a fishman god.  :P

[Braydent30]

Not to be mean or anything.


   Quin Tasin: The Dream Shattering God.

[RanmaChan]

Not to be mean or anything.


   Quin Tasin: The Dream Shattering God.

I actually think that fits well, though I like the magic and logic thing better.

[Braydent30]

It'd be much more fun doing this: "Oh hey, that idea could help tons of people. *erases it from the person's mind*"

[Ragolution]

Breaking the IC/OOC wall.

[Ragolution]

Times something dumb annoyed me: 13
Times something important got erased: 4
Times everything inexplicably got erased: 3
Times I couldn't undo the erase: 2
Times it tried to close IE but failed: 5

"The calm amongst the storm." That's a saying I haven't heard in a long while, ye'?

I think it all starts with the first harvest festival I was ever at. It was a day I remember vividly. A great day of firsts and likely the true reason I now live here, in the city. Maybe it was something else. The whorehouses, possibly, or even the taverns, but that ruins the romanticism of the story, doesn't it?

It took me a while to realize a whole year had passed. One could hardly believe the earthen scent of autumn was in the air until they inhaled that musken aroma of ripe fruits and rotted leaves. Once again, as every year, my father carted off to the grandest city for a thousand thousand furlongs. Now only twice had I come with him, to the Forever City, but I would come to be a man in only three years time and it was my place to learn. I remember that my two sisters had stayed ahouse as they were bade. This might've been the first time I realised that everyone has thier place. As I was meant to run my father's farm, they too were meant to become wives for some fisher or maybe someone like the merchant back in our village that everyone called Fat Dave.

I remember the clicking of the wheels on the flagstones beneath us as we approached the great, creaking wooden doors and the heavy iron porticullus that rattled in the swooning wind. The same thick pennants of black, white and red fluttered in the breeze, the Imperial Colours strewn about with the autumn droppings as the whistling gale guided a bushel pf crisp leaves to lie where the Gods deigned them needed.

The Royal Avenue was littered with people that day. From fishwives waggling the days catch in thier meaty grip to finely dressed foreigners, gowned in expensive, richly dyed silks and pleated with jewels; All manners of person haunted the main street on this day and the day's journey to the grain stores was painfully slow. Our family's one horse cantered where it could but slow clops made the pace to where my father's childhood freind took his abode. Quentin d'Mercator was a family freind who had grown up in our little town. Quentin had left our village when both he and father grew to thier 23rd year. He just left, too. No one had even knew he was gone until the next evening.

He always promised father a fat purse of coins if we brought him a cart load of barley for the alehouses and distileries. The money he gave us was always enough to feed us for the winter and father would wheel the cart into the market to stock up on food for the cold. Not until this year, though, had we ever come on the day of the Harvest Festival.

The market plaza was alight with hanging, round lamps from the glittering isles beyond the sea and green flames sprouting from the brass lamps the dark skinned foreigners lit on thier stalls. The sun hung low and orange in the sky and darkened as day sunk into night and the city lights lit themselves up. Hundreds still swarmed the market square. Foreign whores with silky, transparent dresses sulked around every corner and it seemed like no man was without a golden cup of something sweet and strong in his hands. Here, the scents of autumn were swept away by the lingering aroma of expensive wines and the strong, fragrent oils the Forever City was famous for.

Father smiled to me as he looked around the plaza and finally, he pressed a silver Denar into my palm. I still have my doubts as to what he expected me to buy, but in practically no time I found myself sipping a honey-sweet nectar with my arm around a dark skinned woman clothed in the same thin silks and ripe with the scents of sweat and lust.

The first time I got drunk. The first time I had sex. The first time I ever gambled.

The first thing I had done with the silver coin was buy my cup of the wine. The dark-skinned man smiled at me and told me something in his foreign tongue. He handed me a fine pewter goblet full of what he assured me "was his favourite vintage" and "the best in the city". It was a deep, shiny gold in colour and with a sweet scent that reminded me of pumpkins and sugar lace. To this day, I've asked all around the city but no one can tell me what I drank that night. No doubt some foreign brewing that was lost...

Second, after the drink, I took to a gambling table where men threw dice into a bowl and roared loud with amusement whenever someone lost. It took me two hours, but when I walked away I had doubled my father's money. Others did much better (and worse) than I had, but poor as we were then, I felt ontop of the world with my two silver denars. From there I fell into my more childish desires. I bought myself sweets, A new hat, A pair of sandals for my sister and a decanter full of what I thought was "100% pure wish-granting potion". It took me down to my last copper piece when the dark skinned woman took advantage of my drunken state. Someone- A god or a person or a sprite playing tricks had to have kept refilling my goblet. There was no other explaination for why my cup was always full, no matter how much I drank. The same silk-garbed woman was not a maiden, there was no doubt of that, but when I left the Tavern room an hour later, exhausted, I was made a man. I climbed into what I assumed (and luckily it was) my father's cart and passed out ontop of the empty sacks we had used to cart in the grain.

When I had awoken, we were home. It was that simple.

So no, I guess it weren't that year what made me stay. It was something else.

We came back, again, the following year. No Autumnal Festival this time, but something grander that... drew my eye, I suppose. We wheeled into the market square, again, just as the last year to get our supplies for winter. All proceded and I got to smirk as a few of the younger, pretty girls of the city flirted with me. It took me but a few moments to realise what was distracting me as I exchanged smiles with the local maids. Around the center of the square, near the fountain, sat the most.. well.. I don't know how to describe him. He was as if the most perfect example of a Human I had ever seen. His features were fair; his hair was dark like the wood of a chestnut but his skin sat as unusual and was as white as milk against the gold of armor that defined his features. A red silk sash draped over his shoulders and the ruby-encrusted circlet identified him for what he was. He sat, alone, fearless, ontop of the fountain's ledge and seemingly ignored by the bustle of the market. This man- this god among men sat in the turmoil of the busy market square deliberately etching onto a pristine volume of bound vellum. In the heart of the city sat the young Prince Maximillian, wearing the gold-leafed steel that was gift from the same foreigners that organized the Autumn Festival each year. It was my naive thought that his city bred the greatest men the land had to offer.

I still don't know why, but just seeing this man, calm amongst them all the foul and the greedy and the needful made me want to be that. To become the confident man of the city just as the young Prince had. 'course, he's Emperor, now, but still. He may've changed in the years, his hair greyed, his armor dulled, but that immortal image of his youth still lingers in my mind. The perfect man. He was once perfect, as we all must be. It is what we should all hope to become. Where we should hope our heads rule our hearts but still our heart lives free of the world's pain. We should all hope to become the calm amongst the storm.

[RanmaChan]

 Here are the books I wrote back in Ermor, a couple maps ago.  They look short here on the forums, but in-game they are pages and pages long, lol.  Part 4 is coming soon, and I will update it then.
-----------------------------------------------

The Aceonic Ages: Volume I of IV


Hello there dear reader.  I am assuming that because you have picked this book up you are interested in the history of Aceon.  That is good, because there is a lot of it!  Four volumes to be exact, and this would be the first.


Now, let me explain to you why there are four volumes, because there have been four Aceonic Ages, like the titles of my compendium suggest.  Throughout the history of our world there have been a number of cataclysmic events, and following those, surges of activity from all sorts of different peoples and societies.


That is why the history of Aceon is a confusing one, due to the nature of the rise and fall of multiple empires.  Because no one nation or society has survived through all four ages, there have never been any actual lasting records or accounts made. Adding to this, there has never been an actual yearly system or calendar created to keep track of events.


However, I can assure you, dear reader, that the information you will find in this book is as accurate as humanly possible, considering the aforementioned problems.  All of the events that I describe are placed in chronological order based on my knowledge and extensive research.


The First Age of Aceon is the one that is the least known.  What information we have on it comes mostly from fragmented tablets found in ruins, folk tales and stories passed down the ages by different races, and half truths hidden in religious myths.


This is what we do know: Without mentioning the involvement of gods or others in its creation, the world was once filled with absolute chaos.  At the start of Aceon's long history, there where very few actual groupings of humanoids to speak of.  Many lesser known cultures and societies formed, and disappeared as mysteriously as they were created . It is believed that the time was a bloody one, with buildings and towns rising up, only to be sacked and destroyed.  Mountains were hollowed and cut, forests burned, plains desolated, villages and towns ruined.  Racial diversity was not yet strong, and in this time period only two races achieved Empires large and stable enough that they could survive to be remembered today.


There were, however, in existence smaller groups and cultures that would later flourish, like the Ermori, Auctus Provectum, and Novarium, but in this time period they could only try to survive as best they could, being small communities.


The first of the two Empires mentioned previously were the Imperials, a group of humans who came together long enough to found a stable dynasty.  The other group was made up of Dwarves, an extremely strong and heavily populated clan, but even less is known of them, like what their clan name was.  Eventually, nearing the end of this Aceonic Age, these two factions warred with one another, causing extreme desolation to the land, which only added to the carnage of the raiders and barbarians that were held at bay outside their strongholds.


It is not known who won the war, or if the war was won by either side at all, because this is when the first cataclysm hit, ending the first Aceonic Age.  Volcanoes erupted, the land shook and tore apart the walls and mountains of humans and dwarves alike.  Oceans, lakes, and rivers all changed and moved, boiling away or released from underground sources.


What was left of Aceon was a new world, new continents, oceans, mountains, forests, and even people.
Please refer to part II of this compendium if you wish to read more of the Aceonic Ages!

[RanmaChan]

 The Aceonic Ages: Volume II of IV


Welcome back dear reader, I am glad to see that you are interested enough in Aceon's history to come back for more, and I do promise you, there is more.  The Second Age of Aceon was the longest to date, including some of the most interesting cultures and peoples to have ever called Aceon home.


During the cataclysm lands were separated, and oceans created  Surviving through this were the people of Novarium, who found themselves on an island off the coast of mainland Aceon in a newly made ocean.  They would later become one of the most powerful Empires Aceon had ever known, and definitely the most powerful naval faring race of humans.  But before them came the Auctus Provectum.


The humans of the Auctus Provectum survived and thrived at this time, having nearly all of the Ena'thi Lower Grasslands of Aceon's mainland to themselves.  The Auctus Provectum was based on a very rigid caste based society where movement up the social ladder was nearly impossible, and the ruler, or King, had absolute power and control.  The Auctus Provectum grew larger and larger, spreading outwards through the entire area of the Ena'thi Lower Grasslands.  It seemed as though this would continue, but soon one of their Kings decided to adopt the policy of the lost Imperials, and built massive walls around the capital city.  However, an unknown event occurred and the city closed its gates for hundreds of years.  We are still at a loss as to why this happened.


However, it was in this isolationism that their high levels of technology came about.  It was during this time that the Auctus Provectum developed technology that not even the Ermorian Empire or the forces of Novarium could match, and today in the fourth age our people have barely a fraction of the knowledge attained by the Auctus Provectum.


Unfortunately, the people outside the walls of the capital city were left to fend for themselves, but eventually formed into a multi-city based coalition called the Free Cities. However, not many were as lucky, and areas close to the sea fell into barbarism.  Eventually one man rose to power in this region, Tybolt, and he united the weak barbarian tribes into a single unified force, Tybolt's Legion.


Unable to penetrate the walls of the mysterious Auctus Provectum, Tybolt unleashed his forces upon the people of the Free Cities, who previously had been too powerful for the fractured tribes to fight.  After much bloodshed and war, it seemed as though Tybolt's forces would emerge victorious over the Free Cities' forces, as there was only one city left, a small fortified town called Hamlet.


In timing that is considered today to be scary, forces from another land across the sea arrived in the docks of Hamlet, and beat back the Legion of Tybolt.  It is here that Novarium finally enters the politics of Aceon.  The forces that defended Hamlet were an expeditionary force from the Empire of Novarium, which would soon send more men.  It is here that Free Cities sealed its doom.


In their desperation, the Mayors of the Free Cities gave Novarium control of the town and what forces they had left.  The expeditionary force led by Lord Admiral Dantius, and the troops of the Free Cities, quickly slaughtered Tybolt's Legion using experimental gunpowder based weaponry brought from their homeland. After their victory was assured, Lord Admiral Dantius did not lift the martial law he had put Hamlet into, rather, his forces started the construction of a permanent settlement. At this news the mayors of the Free Cities quickly confronted the Lord Admiral, but to no avail. A few weeks later Dantius ordered the assassination of the mayor of Hamlet, and the town fell under Novarium's permanent control, renamed Victory Bay.


It was at this time that a very peculiar event took place.  The skies turned black as a massive storm struck, the lightning turned purple, and the rain ran as red as blood.  With a deafening noise the capital city of the Auctus Provectum, still sheltered in their walls, was blasted by the teleportation of an odd structure, seemingly from another world. After the dust had settled, the population of the Auctus Provectum realized much of their home was in ruins, their walls shattered, and that their previous prince had been killed in the event. Electing Prince Varken Hersenenbrecht of The House of Blades as their new leader, they met the new forces in their midst with extreme hostility, and were matched by the invaders.


The structure that had teleported in the midst of the Auctus Provectum reached thousands of meters into the sky, and at its top, magic like likes of which Aceon had never seen before was wrought. With technology fighting magic, the two forces battled, until a ceasefire was eventually called, due to heavy losses on both sides.  Prince Varken met with the Lord Magus Quin'Tasin, of which he learned was the leader of the Druchii Empire, a society completely devoted to the study and use of magic. Although hostility still suffused the atmosphere, the two sides joined together into one being called DEAP, the alliance between the Druchii Empire and the Auctus Provectum.


Note:  To read more about The Druchii Empire, please refer to the tome, Expanded History of The Druchii Empire.


Through the use of the Auctus Provectum's strange steam technology, and the Druchii's magic, a city was built which eclipsed even the city of Ermor at its height. However, as DEAP expanded, grew, and scouted the surroundings they had isolated themselves from for so long, they quickly discovered the forces of the Novarian Expedition. The people of Novarium were puritanical humans, who accepted no other races in their society. The people of DEAP were completely mixed, humans, elves, dwarves, even satyrs and orcs.  Thus began the largest conflict the world of Aceon had ever seen.


However, as DEAP and Novarium fought, the defeated forces of Tybolt rallied once again, despite their leaders death.  With a new leader chosen they swiftly entered the battle, but not against Novarium their previous aggressor. Strangely, this new Legion instead fought against DEAP, with puritanical human propaganda from Novarium spreading through their ranks. With the Novarian forces forces bolstered by reinforcements from the homeland, and the barbaric hordes of The Legion, DEAP eventually realized the cost of their initial war between the two halves had been greater than first thought.


In an odd event the occurred in literally a night, the Druchii withdrew their forces into their fortress, known as The Thorn, and disappeared as mysteriously as they arrived.  With their allies gone the Auctus Provectum swiftly fell apart, and the massive city covering the Ena'thi Lower Grasslands fell into ruin. The forces of Novarium then crushed everything before them, taking as much plunder and loot as they could carry, and executing every single non-human they could find. With their expedition a success, they left for their homeland, and brought the second age of Aceon to a close.

[RanmaChan]

 The Aceonic Ages: Part III of IV


If you made it through parts I and II than I congratulate and thank you dear reader for continuing with me in our exploration of the Ages of Aceon. The Third Age of Aceon is not nearly as long as the Second, and is far more peaceful.


With Novarium gone, and the civilizations around it left in ruin, another great cataclysm rocked Aceon changing its continents and seas, burying cities, and revealing ruins of the lost and forgotten. The only culture to truly survive this event, and then thrive, were the Ermori.


Note:  To read more about the early Ermori, please refer to the tome, An Expansive History of The Empire of Ermor.


The Ermori were a group of people who had stayed relatively the same since the First Age of Aceon, keeping out of the affairs of the previous ages.  It was in the power vacuum left by nearly every other faction that the Ermorian Empire rose to control all of mainland Aceon during the Third Age.  Not sharing the same non-human racism as Novarium, the Ermorian Empire eventually became a conglomeration of all races.  In a slightly militaristic approach, they coerced and bribed the societies developing around them to join with them.


One of these societies were the people of Nomas, a culture that had taken root inside one of the newly created deserts of Aceon.  Though their people were strange and their architecture odd, with a combination of bribery and military force the Ermorian's convinced the people of Nomas to join their empire.


Another group, made up mostly of non-humans, were the creatures of Kondak, who lived in a city built in a massive tree.  It is not known whether or not the Great Fire of Kondak was started by the Ermorians to force the people of Kondak to join them, or by the leader of Kondak itself, but after the devastating fire, and with no place to go, their numbers helped to swell Ermor's capital city.


Eventually Ermor grew bloated and corrupt.  Their senate, once a great achievement of democracy, became slow and ineffective.  In the next couple of years a number of poor crop harvests occurred, which caused the prices of food to rise sharply.  With the people eventually taking to the streets in bread riots, the rebels who had been waiting quietly and patiently took control of the angry mobs, and devastated the city.


Eventually all hell broke loose within the ranks of the people of Ermor and the rebels, and the city became a slaughter house as the Ermorian military was called in.  By this time no structure was left undamaged, no park left untouched.  The people killed each other in their hunger and rage, as soldiers and rebels fought to control not only the capitol, but also the surrounding cities and forts.


In the capital city of Ermor, the streets ran red with blood.  Grass turned to gravel, trees withered and died.  Once pristine fountains filled with filth and refuse.  A great plague overcame the city, and odd plants and vines started to grow upon the walls and houses.  It was as though the gods of the people of Ermor became displeased at the sight, and caused the third cataclysm to happen.  Overnight the people of Ermor were shattered as earthquakes ripped apart their cities and forts, bringing the last great empire of Aceon to an end.

[CPftw]

One hundred and thirteen long happy years I have spent in the company of the Welden; Guardians of the Forests. In that time I learnt much of their history and culture. It is very rare in this day and age to be able to talk knowledgeably with common folk on such a wise and powerful race, and it is to this grave tragedy that I aim to rectify. I digress, age is catching up to me now that I have once again joined civilisation in all its heresy and my mind wanders in ways reminiscent of the Welden themselves- BAH! I digress once again. Here it is the Welden's creation, their culture, and their history.

Welden or, as the more uncouth of those who have even heard of them say, Welds, have no known continent or land of origin. They, it seems, simply came unto being. There have been many different theories as to how they were created but in my mind it would appear that the very land we stand upon is, inherently, magical. That is to say that Welden were magically brought into existence to prevent other such vile races, my own human kind for example, from destroying the great and magnificent trees that bless our wondrous land.

The Welden can come in the form of any known tree and, to my astonishment, some types of tree I have never seen before! The wisest, most powerful and most important Welden can speak in their native tongue, the language of the world, the language of trees and the language of air; other Welden can speak a disjointed version of this tongue but prefer to converse in either Elvish or a plethora of Human dialects. It was a Weld known as Cithalion, pronounced Sithayleeon, who taught me to speak in the truly magical Welden tongue. Cithalion was the greatest and wisest of Welden, the protector of an Pine so magnificent and large that it seemed to touch the stars and heavens; he was also, I am most fortunate to write, my greatest friend in both Welden and Human societies.

Welden are not born from the disgusting methods used by most creatures of today, but by necessity. Welden are the protectors of the greatest trees in existence, and in what was once a daily occurance, a new tree would be granted the honour of its own Welden. It is curious then that I met upon two of the remaining score of Welden that saw their protective duties to encompass whole swathes of woodland, saying that each tree is linked by its roots to a father tree; both of these Welden were of the Aspen seed. Once again past memories have distracted my writings, forgive me. When first growth is started, a Seedling Weld is hidden in a coil of roots under the tree it will soon protect throughout its life. A Weld is called a Sapling when it finally emerges from its mothering soil. The length of time it remains a Sapling depends on the seed it is, for example the saying that 'An oak takes three hundred years to grow, three hundred years to live and three hundred years to die' is true of Oaken Welden. Yet it all depends on two things: First the tree itself, how long it lives. Second that the Weld does not get itself killed due to arrogance (which has happened on occasion and resulted on the greatest tragedy to befall the Weldens). Cithalion once mentioned how a Weld can die naturally, or as he said 'pass on to the next seed.' though I am unsure as to what he meant.

A Weldens life is dictated by the demands of his tree. Some Welden lead fairly free lives checking on their charges once every year, whereas others must provide sustenance in the form of water and clearing a space for more light weekly. Though by tradition every Weld must forsake their great charges and gather in a (formerly) great conclave known as 'FalerWeld' once every five years. I returned back to Human kind at the end of my twenty second FalerWeld in the company of a very precocious young Birch called Yirnlaia who would often wake me by- perhaps that is a tale for a different sort of book, needless to say the splinters were excruciating.

Magic seems to be imbued into the very sap of the Welden race. Nearly all among them is gifted with powerful nature magics. It is extremely important to note that a Weld will never use their powers to kill a foe (though the case of Korlhantra shows how distorted a Weld mind can become when their tree is lost), but will only subdue and restraint a combatant; the Welden are in essence a pacifist race and will act in defence only (with the great exception, that I shall write about soon). As many of the eldest Weld are nearly a tree themselves, being slow moving and deaf with age that they spend most time standing still talking to the surround trees, they refuse to use their magical abilities at all. This concept has passed down to less mature Welden who seek to attain the respect accorded to their elders. As a result of this, it is only the younger less mature Weld who would use their magical gifts (again Korlhantra and other treeless being exceptions). Techonology of the more industrious races, Dwarves and Humans among them, is seen as a perversion of nature by Welden kind; it is feared and hated in equal measure.

Ahh now it seems I can put it off no longer. What I see as the greatest monstrosity my own race has ever committed. An act that cost myself the use of my left arm and nearly all my sight. The burning down of the forest at the time of a FalerWeld (my fifth time at one)... I can recall it clearly. The sudden panic in the gathered Weld , nearly four hundred of them in all, and the smell of smoke through the trees. Ever increasing waves of heat, and the sound of men roaring. Then leaping flames, screaming Welden, splintering wood and moans of anguish as the sacred charges of the Welden succumbed to the searing blaze that consumes all in its anger. In one day the magnificent and proud race that was Welden kind lost three hundred and sixty eight of its kind and was left with just twenty. Of this twenty, seven were too wounded to be able to care for their charges, they died in the following two decades. 3 lost limbs and sight. And 4 lost the ability to speak. We retreated far into the forests and tried to recover to nurse more trees into being given the honour of a Weld... It seemed the land had forsaken us, no new Welden in over eighty long years. Then it happened an ancient spruce was granted a Weld! Though she was weak and infirm it gave us hope, and soon in the following five years we were blessed by three more Welden. Yet the fury at such a violent and unnecessary act by the humans still seethed unabated. Cithalion vanished for two months and upon his return he seemed different, horrified at the world almost. I have since heard the stories and wish them to be false... A whole town smashed to the ground and the children impaled on the masonry. I weep now hoping it was a different white aging Weld with fire in his eyes, fire that has burnt down to embers.

Cithalion renounced all violence, magic and emotion. In his guilt he gave me the title of an Elder, a wise one of Welden kind, I had become an honourary Weld to a great Alder. It was the happiest moment of my life.

And that dearest reader is where I must end this. My hand shakes and I struggle to make out the words even as I scrawl them down. I wish you to find and contact my dear friend Cithalion and tell him of this book so that he may once more smile and laugh as he use to... but alas I fear he is too far away for any who read this, to find and talk.


May all your seeds grow and bloom
Solvinius Dollomus or Volnaro Alder


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you need me to change this then I will, If you want to remove this then can you tell me why first? and thanks to Noct for the input. I will post some possible skins soon

[2ktaco]

I like it very much. I can help with the skins to if needed.

[RanmaChan]

Very nice, only problem that I kinda have is that you said its a human who wrote this, but that he lived for 113 years, but what ever.
Other than that this is very well done.
Also I found Cithalion's tree:

The Perfect Tree

[CPftw]

Very nice, only problem that I kinda have is that you said its a human who wrote this, but that he lived for 113 years, but what ever.
Other than that this is very well done.

Living with the Welden and their magic and knowledge made it possible
and thank you

[Noctilucent]

CP's Yew Weld



Rosids' Tree

[CPftw]

An excerpt from the Book: The Rising of The Argetvallorn by the captured scholar Zhi-Feng, translated by the monk Alfruer Grettirson

"It was to be my intention when told I would write this history to portray the Argetvallorn nation as what they appear to be from first glance if not worse. I had promised myself to exaggerate their numbers and acts of cruelty. To immortalize a whole nation and culture as demonic...
Yet as I was led into the 'ger' or tent of the Gur-Khan, I was offered salt-tea and a blanket for to keep the chill out. I was attended diligently by two of the most high-ranking Gur-Khans wives. The Gur-Khan himself was polite and kind, he would not talk until I had told him repeatedly that everything was to my satisfaction. He then asked me if I would be willing to write as he dictates and only when I had the time necessary to write for him! As if I was the ruling lord of four countries! It was, and is, this respect for all men under his rule, that has made me revoke my promise and to record only those words that pass from his lips"

"The tale he said of how his people were born is a simple poetical one it went.
'There came into the world a blue-gray wolf
Whose destiny was Heaven's will.
His wife a fallow deer.
They travelled together across the inland sea
when they camped on the rolling plains
by the river and in view of the mountains
their first son was born, named Batachikhan'
Fairytale in essence yet beautiful in imagery.

The Gur-Khan was tribeless for a time, he and his brothers sought out those like themselves: The outcasts, the sick, the murders, the lost and the mad. They united them under one blood, their blood. He became a warlord dedicated to the eradication to the ghosts of the frozen north. His people grew, his family grew, for they are the same and hold as much right as each other. Many short sighted Khans tried to resist his forces, but just as many saw the true calling of a nation and flocked to his united banner. After the removal of the Naymarn resistance he had finally united the people of the sea of grass, collected the shining fragments of the silver people, formed the Argetvallorn nation.

He struck to the south and captured many villages, promoting those of merit not of past blood. His greatest general was a shepherds son, Tsubodai, young, genius and battle ready. He destroyed the armies of my people, the Zhiinto, despite being outnumbered four to one. In fact his forces were never in the numerical advantage over their opponents, but they had superior training and tactics. In time my people were content with his even handedness in his rule. The Gur-Khan struck west, north, east and south all at once. He gave his generals a choice in direction and let his dogs loose. Tsubodai went north with the eldest of the Gur-Khans four sons, Khazair, his youngest brother, went south with his youngest son, Jebe went west with his hot-headed drunkard third son and Arslan went further east with the second son.

Tsubodai was not defeated and came back with tales of metal men who are too slow and stupid to avoid their arrows. Khazair returned with tales of a great empire of my peoples cousins the Zhunj, countless armies of millions each. Arslan returned aged and tired with talk of an Island on the oceans horizon. Jebe returned late, heavily laden with gold and wealth, he heaped it at the door of the Gur-Khans ger and buried it, showing his contempt at such a useless metal. He then brought out the finest eastern horses and slaughtered them all, for none could match the Arget ponies stamina. He lastly brought out two hundred beautiful young girls, he gave fifty to the Gur-Khan and gave the rest to his men. It was east that the Gur-khan went."


"Wealth, more wealth than a thousand year empire could spend was captured and the nation grew. It was unstoppable. A golden era for a golden horde. When the Gur-Khan was returning to his ocean of grass, he was struck by an arrow and soon ascended beyond. His third eldest son inherited the lands his father had taken. I write this in secret knowing the boisterous and arrogant fool of a Gur-Khan will want embellishment and grandeur. The generals, the four dogs are cowed. Tsubodai has retired to the valleys of the homelands tending a small flock of goats. Khazair is an infirm old man who drinks with the two remaining brothers of the great Gur-Khan into an abyss. And Jebe the staunchest of the great Gur-Khans generals just got up one evening and started walking, when he was not heard of again people who were also disillusioned by the third son started a trek to find him and settle with him. But now we live in a tyranny with small hopes for the future. Will the shining Silver People continue their glory or will they rot and stagnate as those who came before them?"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I might add some more to this later, but it is late and I am tired.

[RanmaChan]

This is good, but you really, REALLY, need to work on the BB code, lol.

[CPftw]

This is good, but you really, REALLY, need to work on the BB code, lol.

That better? lol I'm tired

[RanmaChan]

This is good, but you really, REALLY, need to work on the BB code, lol.

That better? lol I'm tired

Yeah no worries, it looks good.

[RanmaChan]

The Druchii Empire

The Legends:
It is said in the legends, that ages ago, lost and forgotten in the mists of time, a small group of races gathered together around a small font of natural power.  Bound by a common love, the love of magic, these different races and cultures banded together to create a unique civilization.  This society flourished, their differences banished by their common goal, until as all things must, their time came to an end.

The Rise:
They built a great city, with towers and spires rising high into the air, combining the different styles of every race present.  It is not known what they called their civilization, but what is mentioned is the existence of the Lord-Magi.  These beings of great power, one from every race found in the city, guided the progress and development of their brothers and sisters.  Acting as leaders, mediators, teachers, and more, these Lord-Magi sat together in a large council.

The Fall:
The legends are not clear as to what exactly happened, all that can be found are the vague mentions of the appearance of a great and malicious evil.  Creatures with no connection to the magic or natural plane appeared in the wilderness surrounding the great city, built around the font of magic.  They had no desire to co-exist, only a deep and unnatural hunger.  Despite the great power afforded to the Lord-Magi, nothing could stop the hordes, their numbers too vast to comprehend.  In a last ditch effort, a great sacrifice was made to save the city.

The Sacrifice:
All of the Lord-Magi agreed they would share their power, and link their minds and souls to each other to tether the city to the font of magic.  As their bodies disintegrated the land split, great cracks appeared in the bedrock of the world, and the city and the magical font at its center, was torn from its plane of existence.

The Betrayal:
As the city was transported through space and time, the rapidly fading Lord-Magi realized that one of their number did not take part in their sacrifice.  During an early but crucial point of the ritual, he had broken free from their link, unwilling to give his life for their people.  He doomed them all.

His fear, and unwillingness to give up his life, allowed the unknown evil to seep into the city, and poison the magical font at its center.  In order to break from the ritual and save his life, he accepted the evil into him, forever damning himself and the city.  As his fellow Lord-Magi died, leaving him as the last, and the sole leader of the city, he smiled.

The Arrival:
It is not known for how long the city stayed isolated, lost in an unknown plane, but what is known, and remembered, is the night it arrived in Aceon.  In the frozen Northern realm of Ena'thi a storm built.  Winds howled like screaming daemons, and green lightning lit of the night.  With a flash of pure magic the city re-materialized, directly on top of the Auctus Provectum.
http://www.forums.hypergamer.net/factions-groups-353/the-auctus-provectum-of-the-ena%27thi-lower-grasslands/

The city had changed in its journey.  Its noble, airy buildings were now cruel, spiked, and solid.  Directly in the center of the city was built a massive fortress, rising far into the clouds, visible for miles.  Aptly named The Thorn, it houses the Lord-Magus Quin'Tasin.

With the city's arrival all hell broke lose, and fighting broke out between the new arrivals and the Auctus Provectum.  Lord-Magus Quin'Tasin appeared at the top of his tower, proclaiming that a new age had come for his people.  Calling his kingdom the Druchii Empire, he met with the Prince of the Auctus Provectum.  Instantly the two recognized each others strengths, and realized that instead of fighting each other, they could be conquering others.  With the magic of the Druchii, and the technology of the Provectum, DEAP, was formed.

DEAP - The Alliance of The Druchii Empire, and The Auctus Provectum.

*****
The ranks and roster will constantly be edited, and currently it is being worked on.

Hierarchy/Ranks:
-Magus Caste-
Lord Magus - Leader of The Druchii Empire | On par with the Prince of The Auctus Provectum.
Magus - A person knowledgeable in the arts of magic, they answer only to the Lord Magus.
Apprentice Magus - A person in apprenticeship to a Magus, they understand some magics.

-Artisan Caste-
*There is no ranking system for this caste currently, only information on classes.*
Alchemist - A learned man working in the field of what is regarded as "early chemistry and biology."  Working with a multitude of chemicals and other materials they search for things ranging from the philosophers stone to the cure for deadly plagues.
Scholar - A man of books, scrolls, and tomes.  Can be a historian, a linguist, a researcher and more.  This person is usually independantly wealthy from another enterprise or form of income.
Collector - Independently wealthy from another source of income, this person collects rare items, books, plants, and even animal samples.  They can either show these things off, or use them in a multitude of studies.
Banker - Works in the bank located in DEAP.  This person does everything a banker would do, from helping people to deposit their money, to handing out loans (only to special cases), and more.  Must be extremely trusted to acquire this job.
Librarian - Runs the public library, and can tend to private libraries and collections if allowed by the owner.  They are civil servants, working for the government.  If a citizen requires anything from a book or tome, to extensive research done on a topic, this person will do it.

-Warrior Caste-
Drachau - Director (General) of the armed forces, after the The Lord-Magus.
Vaulkhar - Captain of the guard, if only one person has this rank they are third in command of the army.  If there are multiple people with this rank, that effect is nullified.
Draich - Soldier/guard of the Druchii.  They patrol the town, the walls, and the roads, guard the citizens, stop crime, and train for any coming wars.  These are elite warriors.
Naglir - Scout/guard in training.  These warriors practice their skills in sword fighting, archery, firearms, and more, while performing scouting missions and flanking maneuvers.
Conscript -  When war is growing dangerously close to the city, citizens of the state, such as Merchants, Artisans, Laborers, and Undesirables, will all be given arms and armor, trained as quickly as possible, and sent to fight along side the army.

-Merchant Caste-
*There is no ranking system for this caste currently, only information on classes.*
Merchant -  This person sells all sorts of goods, from dyes, to fabrics, to meat, to tools, what ever he can get his hands on.  May not encroach on any other trades areas of selection.
Blacksmith - A craftsman of weapons, armor, and other metallic goods.  He may own a shop in the plaza or elsewhere in the city, and is sanctioned to sell metallic items.
Innkeeper - An Innkeeper can own anything from a shack with a few extra rooms, to a full sized apartment block.  They collect rent, and may also sell food and drink on the side.
Barkeep/Tavern Owner - Sells food, drinks, and alcoholic beverages (some of which may need to be RPed).  When in this profession it is good to get to know the local guards, in case of brawls.

-Laborer(Citizen) Caste-
*There is no ranking system for this caste currently, only information on classes.*
Farmer - A common farmer.  Though their job is menial, their task is important.  Without a large supply of food, people would not be able to spend the time specializing in other tasks.  Can create a farm on the outskirts of the city.  May farm animals, or crops, and sell the items to merchants.
Miner - Someone who works in the mines far below the city, farther down then even the undercity.  They sell the mineral resources they find to merchants, like blacksmiths.
Fisherman - What else?  They fish.  They then sell these fish to local produce merchants.
Lumberjack - They cut wood.  Yes, they chop down trees, and sell the lumber and saplings to merchants who deal in that sort of trade.

-Undesirables Caste-
*There is no ranking for this caste currently, only information on classes.*
Sewer Dweller - This person has forsaken life above ground in the city, and has instead been forced (or has chosen) to live in the sewers.  This area is unofficially called the "under-city", and it is filled with miles upon miles of utility passageways, steam tunnels, lever rooms, boiler chambers, water reservoirs, and more.

[RanmaChan]

The Auctus Provectum

TL;DR - This is a steampunk faction.

Historical Primer

The Auctus Provectum is an old faction, a civilization founded before The Great Coming of Aceon- Back when the Imperial Crusade and the High Kingdoms were just vague prophecies and blind musings. Anciently, the Provectum was a vast expanding Empire that ruled peaceably and held human rights in high regard, leading a primitive, but happy life for everyone under their dominion.

About two hundred years later, at the height of the empire and under the reign of Prince Akelarch of The House of Spades, the kingdom took a new direction and threw away its empire for all eternity. Under Prince Akelarch, the kingdom became reclusive and the capitol city began to ignore all communications with its satellites. People outside of the city became worried when the city gates would not open and it seemed as if all the city guards had retired. No one dared siege the capitol and those who voiced such things were shut down by the still-loyal hamlets and villages that dotted the countryside.

Years later, as the people from the distant lands began to invade the noble land of Aceon, the Provectum... simply opened its gates and showed everyone what they had been doing for about six hundred years.

What remained in the villages around the city was tantamount to inhuman barbarism in comparison to all the wonders housed in the Capitol City of Rostock. Technology seemed to have advanced in a vacuum and the Architecture of the city almost felt alien to anyone who knew what the stark stone edifices of the old Provectum had looked like.

Still, it was now that the House of Blades had taken power, and with the old objectives of Prince Akelarch under wraps, the house of Blades always focused on one thing: Military Might.

Such an amazing combination of brutality and technological advancement exuded a curious, almost eager display of nationalism and patriotic fervor. The sky-tower houses that were inhabited by the rich were dotted with banners of wartimes and tinctures of gold, whereas the poor of the lower city still obscured their windows with propaganda and the Autocrat clogged the mail systems with well-wishes marked to look as if they were sent by relatives. Mechanical creatures decked with weapons crept the streets noisily and steaming engines mounted on the aft of minecarts signaled the start of the work day.

Currency/Economy


The Provectum is a monetary society and has a currency completely different from the rest of Aceon, making it strange and indeed hindering their trade. All persons who have gold, silver or copper (redstone) is able to turn them in for paper money in the Provectum. All monetary values are kept in check by the Polyarch of the House of Jewels.

Current Exchange Rates

1 gold dukod = 8 silver dukod | 1 silver dukod = 45 copper idik

2 gold ingots => 1 gold Dukod

8 iron bars => 1 Silver Dukod

1 Redstone Powder <=> 1 Copper Idik

Dukods, similarly, can be used to purchase gold at the Royal Treasury if it is so required.

Simple Timeline


-879 BGC - The Empire is Founded, ruled by the original "House of Crowns"
-876 BGC - The Strong Houses are founded.
                     - House of Daggers
                     - House of Blades
                     - House of Jewels
                     - House of Sceptres
                     - House of Spades
-745 BGC - Founder-King, Emperor Sylphaq Antilliquo I dies.
-739 BGC - Crown Prince Sylphaq Antilliquo III is assassinated.
-737 BGC - House of Daggers is expelled from the city.
-736 BGC - House of Crowns fails to produce another heir.
-735 BGC - Emperor Sylphaq Antilliquo II dies.
-734 BGC - House of Spades takes its first throne.
-706 BGC - House of Blades takes its first throne.
-698 BGC - House of Jewels takes its first throne.
-654 BGC - King Akelarch takes throne of the Autocrat.
-634 BGC - House of Sceptres is dissolved into House of Spades
-605 BGC - King Akelarch orders the city gates shut after exiling many.
-554 BGC - King Akelarch dies.
-445 BGC - House of Jewels peacefully absorbs the Weak House of Coins.
-350 BGC - House of Jewels takes throne for first time in 479 years.
-198 BGC - House of Spades returns to power.
-055 BGC - House of Blades takes throne.
-023 BGC - Prince Varken Hersenenbrecht of the House of Blades comes to the throne.
000 AGC - The Great Coming of Aceon.
001 AGC - The Provectum opens its gates and resumes communications.

Political Structure


There are four important political seats in the Provectum

Autocrat - The Ruler of the Provectum. His word is law. Only by trial and extensive political process can an autocrat be removed. Generally refered to as "Prince" or "Princess", those who take this title are the exclusive monarch for their lifetime. Autocrats who are deposed or step down are still called "Prince(ss)" and the Autocrat in power will be referred to as "Autocrat" or "Master" until the Prince(ss) dies.

The Council of Polyarchs - A group of three representatives, each one is always the leader of one of the three Political Houses. They act as advisors to the Autocrat and can begin any deposing or impeachment actions with a 100% agreement.

The Ministratum - Innumerable ministers and political aides dedicated to carrying out the Autocrat's will. Minsters can be mining overseers, factory managers, farm owners, union leaders and more. Ministers are never from any of the Three Houses and can overrule the Polyarchs with a 85% agreement.

Three Strong Houses dominate the political landscape of the Provectum, each is steeped in centuries of history and power-struggles and maintains its own private army and mansion;

The House of Spades -  A political entity dedicated to the advancement of labours and of technology. These people believe that technology will free humanity from its shackles of greed, jealousy and ill-will.

The House of Jewels - A political family dedicated to the amassment of wealth and jewels. This family, as that is what it has always been, firmly believes that with money comes power and with power comes prosperity.

The House of Blades - The once-declining house, the House of Blades believes Military might is what is needed to conquer everyone, and thus free the nation and people from their insecuries. The last time the House of Blades held seat of Autocrat was before Prince Akelarch was born.

The many houses not mentioned here are called "Weak" houses and have likely never taken the throne of the Autocrat.

[RanmaChan]

ERMOR
THE FOREVER EMPIRE

Soot-coated workers, daubed with sweat lumber down the great Imperial highway with woven wicker baskets strapped to their backs. Their toil extends the whole length of Ermor's first great feat and haul the innumerable flagstones that will soon be incorporated into the town's vast, protective shell. With baskets utterly full of heavy granite, these servants of The Nation Older than Time will die before their 23rd birthday, being only the age of 19. Though their life is tough, they are given all the food they desire and as much wine as they can handle. These men and women are the serviles, and a living metaphor for the work that all of Ermor has done and shall do.

These children of the Gods marshal themselves to death with pride in their hearts and the knowledge that they have done something that mattered in the world.

Above these Serviles, the caste of Villeins tends the golden plains and the tender vineyards that decorate the serene fields of Ermor. Each farm is generously dotted with the irrigation troughs and the ingenious reservoirs that keep those sluices full. These Villeins, often referred to as Serfs, provide the kingdom with the amber grain and purple vintage that fills the bellies of the hard-at-work and those above them as well.

The middle class, the populous, the most economically blessed of Ermor, these people are the aristocrats and artisans of The Ageless Kingdom. They are the most fortunate, and also the most influential people in this world and comprise the Social Senate that was earlier created by Tertius Amalus Sentipio.

The highest class, the Imperator and his Praetorian Regiment. The only true military of this peaceful people. They are the guards, the police, the bodyguards and the peacekeepers of high Ermoran society and are made up of three sects: The Lictors, The Praetors, and the Legatus above them all.

The ruler of this society, the Imperator and one of the most important elected official of the Ermor state, the Imperator is primus inter pares, the first among equals in this state where all men hold inalienable rights. The Imperator holds several positions during his span as ruler of Ermor. He would often hold Senator, Censor, Consul and Pontifex Maximus among other titles.

The current and most valiant Imperator Quintus Sapius Primus rules the kingdom peaceably and lets trade flow freely through the city as his loyal workers slowly construct the city walls that gradually encapsulate the Ermoran village. For the longest time, this small town of agriculture has lain dormant, and patient, slowly developing and now it shows its bright plumage to the world as it undertakes an ever-growing list of breathtaking feats.

[RanmaChan]

Nomas
Translated Nomads (better know as merchant)





Story:
Far to the east a people lived in a desert kingdom, a people know as Nomas. Their profession is to be merchants traveling the world to gather new article's and knowledge for their king and god Ra the 2nd. They traveled in caravans from place to place, expanding their trading routes far in all directions. As they traveled they found different cultures and civilizations in the land called Aceon. Here they decided to create an trade post that hopefully would grant them succes among this new people.

With them they brought soldiers, skin dark as the night and eyes glowing like pure emeralds fearsome men, who protected the merchants from thiefs and assaults. The soldiers brought an other type of swords and sword techniques never seen before in these lands. Masters of swords they were called Militibus desertus, and their only wish is to protect their merchant comrades.

[CPftw]

CP's Yew Weld

Ten points if you can see where my pencil broke...

[Ragolution]

CP's Yew Weld

Ten points if you can see where my pencil broke...

( It was in his chest. )

[CPftw]

As the last of my profession it seems wrong to be writing this in a corner of monastery for a religion I do not follow, pretending to write the words of a man I do not believe holy. Alas that is what it has come down to, far from my dreams of vast mead halls with great heroes and kings... My name is Thorgrufs Leifson or as the monks here know me Alfruer Grettirson. Ironically this is not the first history I have recorded, due to my talent with tongues I have translated several other racial histories and I have now decided to record my own peoples.


We, the Skandan come from the northern territories, a multitude of islands, inlets and coves all connected to several larger 'mainlands'. We are a proud and noble people, we stick to tradition and are quick to take offence. It could be this that has prevented us from becoming a 'major' influence on this ages history.


Tyr the son of Wothen is the true ancestor of Skandan people, we take our name from his son Skandor the Fisherman whose tale I shall tell next. Tyr is the god of war, smithing and feasting. He is known as Tyr Trollbane or Tyr Twohorns; Trollbane for his banishment of the Trolls from this realm into Trulksjem in the great war and Twohorns for his ability to drink from the skull of an ox with both horns still attached.


Wothen is the god of travellers, knowledge and music, he is known as Wothen the Wise, Wothen the Wanderer or Wothen the Woeful. The Wise due to his days spent watching the world from atop the tallest mountain in the nine realms. The Wanderer for his treks through said nine realms to find the Well of Song and, the Woeful because upon finding the Well of Song he found his throat to dry to swallow the ambrosial mead.


And now we get to Skandor the Fisherman, the first and greatest King of the Northern Isles. He was once carried along by the great Whale for fifty days before his harpoon finally fell from the beasts back only to find himself attacked by a monstrous sea serpent. He returned sailing his small Skift attached to the body of the serpent earning him the title Fisherman. He and his followers battled their way through a series of petty chieftains to proclaim himself High King of his lands, lands that soon became Skandar.

It was not the son of Skandor but his nephew Hjarly who inherited the throne next, Hjarly ushered in a deeply mystical and magical age. The people were plagued by witches and warlocks protected by royal decree, and it was not long before Thorgils RedProw set sail in his crimson ship to the first mainland, Vin, where his valiant huscarls struck the heads from the shoulders of Hjarly and his magical allies and placed them in the buttocks of their own bodies (the only way to prevent the resurrection of the soul into either a Haelr or Drougr [[this is not from Skryim! Drougr was the norse term for re-animated corpses]]

Thorgils RedProw was a true Skandan warrior, he raided far along the coasts and set up a new Royal Mead Hall one the Third of the Mainlands,  Svayde, for its fine coastal weather. Many heroes and legends came about in his rule. The slaying of Bakrauf the Troll Maiden who preyed upon children and the finding of Nildrims gold by Leif the Lucky being the most famous of the two.


Thorgils RedProw time was running out, he kept the pain concealed but it was his friend Brunlat who first noticed. The warrior King was slowly dying from a wasting disease of the lungs... The women wept and the men sang Thorgils many sagas as the king became more and more ill. It is then unclear if Brunlat killed his best friend whether from pity or greed but it is certain that he finally ended Thorgils life. The skald of Thorgils wrote what has become known as the Saga of Guilt. Brunlat sent his son away with the written saga and burnt the tongue out the poor skalds' mouth. As for Brunlats' son Aelifig, he was not seen again and Brunlat lost his mind, abdicating the throne in the progress.


A long period of time was spent with no High King for the Skanda. The people became more reliant on past traditions and were even more set in their ways. Fewer and fewer raids were attempted and we fell from the limelight that Thorgils had given us. Until a young shield maiden rode into town claiming to be the granddaughter of Thorgils RedProw, the shield maiden challenged many to single combat and received not a scratch from over thirty bouts. Flo LongStride was crowned the first High Queen and began a rule of blood

My people are steeped in tradition, the High King today may only start a feast once the Ballad of Skandor has been sung and the Skull of an ox is drained, it can end only when the Skald has sung his voice hoarse and body of a sea serpent (though it is usually a boar for necessities sake) has been devoured.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once again I will be adding more soon and anyone else can add to this if they want blah blah blah hope you like it. Tyr is Thor, Wothen is Oden and Skandor is made up if anyone actually cares