As Above, So Below

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    The story so far...
    Act I: The Inn
    - Avarielle Wheeler is heading to Silvermoor, and stops in Blithfield for the night. The innkeeper tells her about the Broadmarsh.
    - Ser Faen also arrives at the inn. Avarielle suggests he would be perfect for getting to the bottom of the Broadmarsh situation.
    - A shady stranger attempts to assassinate Ser Faen, but is quickly terminated. It is discovered he was sent by a strange guild in the West.
    - After Avarielle is volunteered by the barkeep, Ser Faen reluctantly agrees to take the Quest.

    Act II: Widow's Pass
    - Arriving at the pass, Ser Faen spots a sign of his pursuer, and leads Avarielle on a wild good chase into the woods.
    - Noticing they appear to be lost, Avarielle leaves Ser Faen in a clearing whilst she investigates a nearby stream.


    The World of Tyrannia
    The Essential Traveller's Handbook

    by Professor T. Nydell

    Chapter 1 - Introduction
    Chapter 2 - Geography
    Chapter 3 - Anthropology
    Chapter 4 - Bestiary
    Chapter 5 - Theology

    Chapter 1 ~ Introduction
    Dear Reader,
    Allow me to tell you a little about myself. I am Professor Terrence Nydell, born and raised in the Amorynthian village of Middlewood on one fine Summer's Eve. My parents' only child, I was expected to stay in Middlewood and one day take over my father's humble whittling trade. But, being the imaginative child I was, young Terrence had greater things in mind. I was to slay dragons, earn riches and discover far-off lands unknown. And so one day, aged just fifteen, that's exactly what I set off to do.

    I never looked back. You see, my dear Reader, I have always been an adventurer at heart. I was never able to sit still, constantly longing to be back on the road in search of discovery. Even now, on my deathbed, as I write this foreword for my life's work, my legs ache to once again walk the path untrodden.

    In your hands lies a tome of knowledge unmatched in these realms. Through my adventures spanning more than half a century, I have collated a resource of information gathered from the furthest reaches of Tyrannian soil; and, in some cases, further still. This book is more than pages bound in leather; the product of sixty-three years of passionate exploration and discovery, this book is the essential tool for those with adventure in their hearts.

    All adventures start somewhere, Reader. Yours starts here. And whilst my days of reconnoitre may be over, it would be my honour to guide you; to assist you; to be reliably by your side for one final quest.
    Best of luck,
    Prof. Terrence Nydell

    Chapter 2 ~ Geography
    In all my years of exploration, I was continuously surprised by how easily I fell in love with the new landscapes I discovered. Tyrannia is a world of such awe-inspiring beauty, from the vast mountains that burst holes in the clouds to the endless blankets of lush forest that caress the land; even the golden spread of poor Tumeken has a haunting emptiness that forces the heart to skip a beat.

    I've been fortunate enough in my life to visit every opposing corner of Tyrannia, unearthing secrets a plenty and discovering the hidden treasures our find land has to offer. Below, I detail my wealth of findings in the hopes that they will prove useful on your own travels. Attached overleaf is a map, illustrated beautifully, under my own guidance, by Amor's finest cartographer, Mr. R. Marnie. But remember, Reader; for every mystery I solved, a dozen more remain hidden, just waiting to be discovered.

    · Amorynthia ·

    Amorynthia is the largest and wealthiest kingdom in Tyrannia. Ruled by King Valdez III, the region has a reputation for being politically underhanded when it comes to monetary gains. The council stooped as low as to exploit Dwarven kind in order to gain the upperhand on the once-great nation of Tumeken. Amorynthia is the most diverse land in Tyrrania, with a wealth of races, terrains, religions and trades existing within King Valdez' rule.
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    Amor (The Second Capital)
    Amor is one of Amorynthia’s two capital cities. Despite being the largest standing city in Tyrannia, it is known to Amorynthians as the ‘Second Capital’. It is built predominantly of tough grey stone with architecture that favours durability over adornment. Amor is a city of labour; its residents work hard to keep the city running and pay their taxes. Known for its roaring trade, the centrepiece of Amor is the marketplace, from which many of the cities greatest tradesman sell their wares. Surrounding the market lies a ring of independent stores and shops for more specific trades, such as armouries, apothecaries , tailors and carpentries. The city’s largest source of income is its thriving fishing trade, which is unmatched anywhere else in the region. Beyond the trade district lies the residential area; most people live in tall, stone tenements, but richer families may own their own houses. On the outskirts of the city lies the area known to locals as The Shambles; a ghetto-like slum that shows the worst effects of King Valdez’ high taxes.
    Bellepoint is a large abbey dedicated to Carminda, goddess of beauty and song. The abbey is open to women only, and is run by the Sisters of St. Caroline; an early Carmindan prophet. The abbey is tall and ornate, made from white stone and decorated with gold and beautiful stained glass windows depicting various events of religious importance. The main feature is the tall bell tower, which the sisters ring every day at dawn to celebrate the beauty of life. The abbey is named as such because of the glorious views from the tower; facing North, one can see the lush land of Amorynthia and facing South reveals a sapphire ocean, with the golden sands of Tumeken on the horizon.
    A small village, Blithfield is home to around thirty people. Once a popular stop for anyone heading west into the forests of Blith, nowadays most sane folk stay clear of those parts and so trade in Blith is relatively slow. Still, Emily Batt’s General Store manages to sell enough wares to sustain itself, and the Major Oak Inn is a popular spot for locals in the evenings, with rooms available for the rare visitor to the village. The latter establishment was rebuilt about burning down some forty years ago, which is probably the most exciting occurrence in the relatively uneventful history of Blithfield.
    Once part of the lush forests of Blith, Broadmarsh is the name now given to the putrid swamp which has overtaken much of the land. Very little is known of the swamp or why it appeared; but it continues to grow each year, and some fear it may spread and ruin Amorynthia, similarly to the Great Drought of Tumeken. Attempting to venture into Broadmarsh means near-certain death; if one is not lost in the rotting woodlands or swallowed by the thick pools of mud, then the various goblins, orks and other bog-dwellers are sure to finish off the unprepared adventurer.
    Dray is a large town, bordered on each side by the forests of Ryth and the Amorynthian shore. Its coastal position and strong relationship with nearby Middlewood has caused the town to naturally direct itself towards shipbuilding; the Dray shipyard is considered the finest producers of sea vessels, at least by human standards. In recent years, a small population of Dwarves have settled in Dray and set up partnerships through which they pool talent and resources with human shipbuilders to create the most exquisite vessels in the land. The town’s dock is always busy, be it for repairing boats or sending out fresh vessels with their new owners, and thus it has a booming trade of markets and inns and attracts many sailor-folk.
    An incredibly small hamlet, Drayling is home to only ten or so people. There is little to be found in Drayling by means of trade, with the locals sourcing most of their goods from the nearby markets of Dray. The residents all cooperate on running a farm; the produce of which they sell in Dray as well as eating themselves. The farming folk have been known to offer temporary accommodation in return for an extra pair of hands on the farm.
    Dunnside is the most fortunate of the villages around the Great Lakes; home to around seventy people and situated right on the banks of Lake Dunn, the village is known all across Amorynthia for its successes fishing and selling the rainbow carp that inhabit the waters. The beauty of these fish brings many a tourist to the village, and so there are two successful inns to be found in the Shiny Scale and the Golden Rod. Even royalty have been recorded visiting the small settlement. However, it is not held in high regards by neighbouring Blithfield and Marshside, who feel Dunnside should have offered some aid when their trades were ruined by the Broadmarsh.
    Gard is the only settlement in Amorynthia recognised as a city without being classed as a capital. Despite being one of the most efficient industry hubs in the kingdom, Amorynthia makes very little profit from it’s lucrative Dwarven-led mining and smithy industries. A primarily Dwarven settlement, Gard is perhaps the only place in Amorynthia where the Dwarven population outnumbers that of humans. Despite the Dwarven rebellion which led many Dwarves north into Vastoria, the race is still unfairly taxed by the palace and the only thing keeping many Dwarves this side of the mountains is the threat of Nosferytes and the embargo placed upon rebels ruining their trade. Gard’s poverty is apparent: its rough stone structures lie mostly in disrepair, crudely reinforced so that they are just-functional. There is a high-crime rate committed in the city’s outskirts, mostly by human hand, which does not aid the plight of the Dwarves. Despite its size, Gard offers little in the way of stores, though there is a plethora of the best smithies, armouries and weaponries in the land, that provide its people with enough to live on – and would make them very wealth, were they not so heavily taxed.
    Gardian Mines
    The Gardian Mines are the largest known mines in Amorynthia, an intricate network of tunnels dug by the Dwarves and heavily saturated with tens of various metals ores; both durable and precious. Deeper in the mines, it is not unusual to find rare gemstones. The mines are fitted with a cart system devised by the industrious Dwarves, which makes transport of goods and personnel throughout the cavernous system fairly easy and comfortable, if passengers can tolerate with a bumpy ride.
    Great Lakes
    The Great Lakes are two bodies of water to the west of Amorynthia. Lake Dunn is famed for its crystal clear waters, which are said to be drinkable direct from the source. It is home to many rainbow carp, a large and colourful fish whose beauty is rivalled only by its taste. Lake Blith once shared these traits, but is now in the early stages of pollution by the nearby swamps. Its waters are cloudy and pale green in colour, and few dare to eat what little fish remain for fear of poisoning. Lake Blith has become known as The Once Great Lake by locals.
    Bordering the cruel Vastorian mountains seemed like a strategic move to the early settlers of Hillan, believing it would protect them from any Northern aggression. But the trolls native to the mountains are much better climbers than humans, and the erection of a town at the base of their home was enough to lure them down from the cliffs in search of food. The townsfolk quickly assembled the Vastorguard; a group of their finest men dedicated to defending Hillan from the trolls. Aside from this on-going war, Hillan is a relatively peaceful town with a selection of stores, a small marketplace and a singular inn; The Slow Pace.
    Iris Rock
    A lighthouse maintained for generations by the people of Tethersall, Iris Rock is relatively special if only for the rumours that swirl around it. Legend goes that, on a full moon, in the beam of the lighthouse one can view a large island out on the horizon; never otherwise visible. Whether the story holds any merit or not is unclear; the operators of the lighthouse are old and there is little else to attract visitors to Tethersall. It is largely considered to be an old wives’ tale.
    Originally called Greenside, the villagers of this small settlement felt compelled to rebrand themselves when their namesake became a filthy bog. Fortunately, they are far enough away from Broadmarsh for it to not affect their fishing or farming industries, and the village makes a fair trade selling goods to the Northern settlements, offering a highly desirable delivery service through the Gardian Hills. It attracts few visitors and is a largely self-sustaining community of around fifty residents.
    Middlewood is a small village with a population of roughly 50 people. Located in the middle of the lush forests of Ryth, Middlewood has made a name for itself through using the resource they are surrounded by: wood. A village of skilled lumberjacks and carpenters, the best woodwork in Amorynthia is said to come from Middlewood. Of course, some of the more business-savvy tradesmen have moved their craft and set up shops in Amor, but enough master craftsmen remain in Middlewood to attract custom from all over Amorynthia. The people of Middlewood are environmentally conservative and replant several trees for each one they fell; they are particularly concerned with protecting the faerie folk who call the surrounding forests their home. They frequently build small wooden houses for the faeries and attach them to trees in the dense woodland.
    Rat's Nest
    Rat’s Nest is a barren island of stone lying off the coast of Gard. Its isolation and strategic placement have made it the unofficial home of pirates and other criminals of the sea, with various primitive moorings dotted around the small island’s shores, along with an assortment of wooden shacks and halls that host the seafarers during their time on land. It is rumoured that a large cavern exists beneath the island, within which the pirate’s treasure trove can be found – though few are foolish enough to risk the pirate’s greedy wrath and find out.
    Ryth (The First Capital)
    The ‘First Capital’, Ryth is a relatively small city in comparison to its sister. Named as such for being the city where the royal family resides, Ryth is situated on the outskirts of the lush Amorynthian forests. It incorporates a lot of its green surroundings into the city itself; there are many trees and gardens amongst the marble courseways. Much of the city is crafted from thick marble and adorned with gold leaf ornamentations and details. It is a lavish city, and anyone looking for where the bulk of Valdez’ taxing ends up can look no further than the city of Ryth. Little trade operates from with Ryth itself; it is mostly a home for the soldiers and noblemen of Amorynthia; those employed by the King are subsidised in order to afford to live in the First Capital, under the premise that they should be close to his palace.
    Sitting at the foot of the Gardian Hills, the busy town of Silvermoor is a popular point of passage between the North and South regions of Amorynthia. Famed for its friendly hospitality, Silvermoor is often a mixing pot of various types of people; from Dwarves moving South to sell their wares, to fools heading North in search of adventure, there are always interesting folk to be found here in one of the town’s five inns: The Black Ferret, The Jug & Glass, The One-Eyed Badger, The North Star and The Fellow’s Rest. Unfortunately, Silvermoor’s welcome does not extend to everyone: the town is inherently fearful of magic-users, following a feud with the nearby Wizard’s Tower that goes back many generations. The townsfolk live in fear that one day the wizards will seek revenge over an act the people of Silvermoor claim no responsibility for.
    Sinclair Estate
    A large manor house surrounded by many acre of game land, the estate was once home to the illustrious Sinclair family. Lord Sinclair’s immense wealth earned him many favours from the King, and his family seemed exempt from most laws of the land in return ‘charitable donations’. One such example of Sinclair’s influence over the King includes having a stream redirected towards the estate, to give the Sinclairs their own personal water supply. However, around the time that Broadmarsh began to form, tragedy hit when the family, their staff and even their livestock were found dead. Nothing in the house remained alive; even their house plants had mysteriously withered. It later transpired that their water supply had been poisoned; whether by the Broadmarsh or some other means is still up for debate. One thing is for certain; no one dares to go near the Sinclair Estate even to this day, for fear that the poison lingers… And for the eerie screams that are said to come from the empty house.
    A small village on the Southern coast, Tethersall is relatively nondescript. Couple this with the fact that it is buried deep within the forests of Ryth, it is easy to see why it attracts so few visitors. Most of Tethersall’s residents are elderly retired folk, and the village boasts no real industry or trade. The community hall is a small communal space that hosts the events of The Tethersall Men’s Club and the Women of Tethersall Committee; social clubs that all but one of Tethersall’s residents are subscribed to. This lone spinster is largely ostracised by her neighbours. The Tethersall Men’s Club works on a voluntary basis to operate and maintain the lighthouse on Iris Rock.
    The village of Valeview sits on a cliff edge on the very border of Amorynthia and Tumeken, though it falls under the territory of the former. Named for its impressive views of the Lesobi Valley and Fool’s Mistake, Valeview makes most of its business by selling supplies to adventurers crossing the border. There a several rooms available at the Rising Sun Inn, where travellers might spend the night before continuing their journeys.
    Widow's Pass
    Named by the villagers of nearby Blithfield, it is said that men who venture beyond Widow’s Pass seldom return. The pass itself is relatively pleasant, and serves as an entry point to the forests of Blith and the Broadmarsh that threatens to destroy them.
    Witchaven made a name for itself as one of the most prosperous farming villages this side of Ryth, but its business was ruined by the appearance of Broadmarsh, which rendered their ground infertile. Whilst many neighbouring villages and towns were swallowed up by the swamp, the people of Witchaven are unique in that they stayed put, determined not to leave their heritage. They built new homes, raised on stilts and connected by bridges, that protected them from the poison swamplands below. Growing produce from large allotments with imported soil, the villagers of Witchaven make enough money to sustain the simplistic lifestyle they have been forced to adopt.
    Wizard's Tower
    The Wizard’s Tower is one of the oldest institutions in Amorynthia, with the original tower said to have been built when Amor was a mere village. Here, those versed in the magical arts pass down their knowledge to the next generation of spellcasters. The Tower had a petty feud with the nearby town of Silvermoor, which continued to escalate until the centuries-old tower was burned to the ground one summer’s eve. Most of the wizards used their knowledge to fight off the flames, but few did perish in the tragedy. Fortunately, the centuries of magical research in the Grand Library were protected with enchantments that saved them from the blaze. Now, the tower has been restored; but the wizards are angry, and there are whispers that Archmage Tripaldi has plans of revenge for the people of Silvermoor.
    Woodsend is a town just on the outskirts of Greenwood. Woodsend is relatively well-off, situated close to the First Capital of Ryth. It has its own market where various tradesmen sell their wares; though Woodsend has a particular reputation for jewellery imported from the North. Whilst the precious items available here are indeed exquisite; they are pale in comparison to those offered in the Gardian Hills. Woodsend has a poor reputation with the Sisters of St. Caroline, originating from when jewels stolen from the abbey suspiciously ended up on the town’s marketplace.
    A small town and a once-thriving fishing community, Wraithtown is the westernmost settlement in Amorynthia. It made a name for itself through the trade of various fish native only to the waters in the far west; out of reach to other fishermen. The town has been especially unlucky over the last century and stands now as a ghost of its former self. After the town was cursed by a woman scorned, each night the surviving townsfolk became wild, wolf-like beasts with no self-control. In this form, they murdered the surrounding towns and villages and lost most of their trade. Many years later, the residents of Wraithtown live in isolation in order to protect outsiders from the monsters they become. This solitude has been aided by the appearance of the Broadmarsh, and Wraithtown has been largely forgotten about.

    · Tumeken ·

    Once as lush as Amorynthia and twice as wealthy, Tumeken was ruined centuries ago by a freak drought that ravaged their cities and reduced to land to barren dunes of sand. Ruled by the Pharaoh King Setsiput, the Tumek people have retreated South in search of a new life. This new beginning for the kingdom is rooted in servitude to the Elder God, Tum, whom they believe will bring water back to the land. In the meantime, they are accepting favours from Amorynthia; but no gesture from King Valdez comes without a price...
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    Asphodel is a town that has existed long before the newly erected city of New Tum. A group of religious fanatics existing in self-exile, the Asphodites believe that Tum is punishing the Tumeks for lack of faith. Some from their order moved to the neighbouring island and established the Salutem settlement. The Asphodites are unwelcoming to the Tumeks and have not provided them with any aid, believing that to do so would be against the wishes of their Goddess.
    Duat Point
    Duat Point is a large, ornate gate that sits on the coastline of Asphodel. Through the vast archway, viewers can see the island of Salutem directly in the centre, leading to the belief that it was built to guide people towards the island. The Asphodites refute claims that they themselves constructed Duat Point, claiming that it existed long before they arrived. The lack of significant damage through wears suggests these claims are untrue. Duat Point is used as the metaphoric entry point to Salutem, where one passes through the gate and boards a small boat to take them to the isle.
    Fool's Mistake
    A short ravine, Fool’s Mistake is the most practical and comfortable route into Tumeken. At least, it would be without the presence of the desert bandits who recognise the opportunities a presumed safe-pass brings them. The bandits target those foolish enough to take the easier path; robbing, raping and usually murdering those who fall prey to their livelihood.
    Grand Temple of Tum
    A huge temple in the centre of Salutem, the Grand Temple of Tum is one of the largest and grandest sites of worship in the whole of Tyrannia. It is believed to sit atop some site of religious importance; the nature of which is unclear, but taken very seriously by the Asphodites.
    Great Pyramid
    The Tumeks have long revered their rulers, moreso than in other kingdoms, believing their kings to have a direct connection to the Gods. When their leaders fall, the bodies are mummified and receive ceremonial burials here in the Great Pyramid, which is believed to direct their spirits to the Gods. Traditionally, huge crowds of people would gather at the pyramid for a king’s burial. Now that Tumeken has fallen to a more desert climate, it is customary for a group of nobles and skilled workers to lead the sarcophagus on a pilgrimage through the desert to the Great Pyramid. The journey is notoriously dangerous, with at least half of those dispatched failing to return.
    Hall of the Pharaoh
    The Hall of the Pharaoh is the royal residency of Tumeken, home to King Setsiput. It is ornate by most standards, but relatively humble compared to the old palace, that now lies in ruin in Old Tumek.
    Lesobi Valley
    Lesobi is a large valley that serves as an entry point to Tumeken from the neighbouring kingdom of Amorynthia. Whilst it is a much longer and less forgiving path than Fool’s Mistake, it is generally considered the safer route in the Tumek province due to the protection that the cliffs either side provide from hostile forces.
    New Tumek
    New Tumek is the beginning of the Tumek’s return to glory; still in its very early stages, the small city is pale in comparison to those grand ones before it that now lie in ruin. Forced to flee their homes by the drought, those families who survived the journey began to rebuild their lives here, where the land is not quite so unforgiving. The buildings here are largely made of wood, though the wealthier families may have managed to secure stone.
    Ruins of Tumeken
    The Ruins of Tumeken refers to the remains of the great cities of Tumeken; Nobuti, Hep and Tumek. Abandoned in panic when the lands were ravaged by drought, much of the vast sandstone cityscapes still remain, albeit dilapidated and weathered by neglect and the harsh conditions of the Tumek Desert. It is said that one could visit any of the houses in these ruins and find things exactly as they had been left all those years ago; albeit now in decay and disrepair.
    Known as the ‘Promised Land’, Salutem is a large, lush forest island lying east of the Tumeken coast. When one looks through Duat Point, Salutem is visible in the direct centre. For this reason, the Asphodites believe the island to be holy and blessed by Tum herself. The Asphodites have gradually begun populating the island since the Great Drought hit, turning it into a religious community where every home doubles as a chapel in Tum’s honour. The lives of those who live on Salutem revolve entirely around worship, which is symbolically represented by the Grand Temple of Tum in the centre of Salutem. Only those deemed ‘Holy Enough’ by the Asphodite priests are permitted to cross the water to Salutem.
    Temple of Thanks
    One of the few ornate buildings constructed since the Great Drought, the Temple of Thanks was erected in Tum’s Promise as a symbol of gratitude to the Goddess Tum. It is hope to a small group of religious folk who maintain the church as well as running sermons in which sacrifices are made to Tum in hopes of reward.
    Tum's Promise
    Tum’s Promise refers to a small plane of land that is moist and fertile enough to produce grass. Though it is far from lush, the weak foliage is considered a sign of hope to the people of Tumeken, reminding them that not all is lost. They consider this a deliberate message from Tum herself, and so the land is considered holy.
    Tumeku Crater
    Previously known as Lake Tumeku, the vast lake once brought fresh and pure water to the lush land of Tumeken. Following the Great Drought, it now lays bone-dry like the rest of the region, leaving behind only a deep crater, blistered and cracked by the desert climate. It is debatable whether it is quicker for travellers to detour around the crater, or scale down its edges and pass straight though it.

    · Vastoria ·

    For the longest time, the mountainous region north of the Amorytes lay unoccupied due to its unforgiving terrain. However, during the Dwarven Revolution at the end of the Exploitation Era, a large party of Dwarven rebels moved North and settled independent of Amorynthia, in the land they named Vastoria. Unfortunately for the Dwarves, the rocky region was already home to some particularly territorial creatures, forcing them underground to live a subterranean existence.
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    Gravesend Bay
    Lying on the North-West coast, Gravesend Bay is a fierce inlet that drags in the most aggressive currents from the cold North Sea. With its ferocious temper and jagged rocky outcrops, it is no wonder that so many ships have met their end in Gravesend Bay; their broken masts and ruined hulls litter the area, snagged on the sharp cliffside. Most of these vessels originate from Rotsanger; where tradition dictates that those Nosferytes who turn feral be deported from Port Rot, more often than not washing up on the shores of Gravesend Bay. Those Nosferytes who survive the journey must then scale the harsh rock if they are to stand any chance of survival in the long-run.
    Kelda Tor
    The very same opening from which the Dwarven rebels first entered Vastoria, Kelda Tor has a lot of cultural and historical signficiance for Dwarvenkind. As it is the same hole they retreated through when fleeing the Nosferytes, Kelda Tor can also be considered the entrance to the subterranean city the Dwarves have established. It is from this purpose that the site received its name. Considering its importance to the Dwarves, Kelda Tor is a relatively subtle landmark: a small, ornate archway, carved into the Cliffside, through which one can descend the stairs into New Kelda.
    Mount Blut
    The tallest peak of Vastoria, Mt. Blut is visible from all across the region. But what is not so obvious is that, deep within the frozen rock, lies a series of caverns that house the nests of feral Nosferytes. The network of tunnels and roughly carved chambers is known as The Hive and is generally avoided for fear of the savage creatures that use the mountain to sleep and reproduce. The Hive can be accessed from hundreds of entry points burrowed into the rock all the way up the mountain.
    New Kelda
    New Kelda is a small subterranean city established by the Dwarven rebels, forced into rebuilding underground by the feral Nosferytes that stalk the surface world of Vastoria. The city is hidden within a vast network of tunnels accessed through Kelda Tor, designed to protect the Dwarves from predators. New Kelda itself lies within a huge excavated cavern, large enough for the city to be built just as any on the surface would be. It is surrounded by a natural underground lake, which must be ferried across to gain access to the city. Huge bonfires are lit throughout the streets of the city and provide it with sufficient light and warmth, whilst clean water can be taken directly from the lake. Whilst there has been some attempt at farming in New Kelda, the crops are weak and most residents exist on a diet of soups and broths. When something more substantial is needed, Dwarves are known to venture onto the surface world in large groups to hunt down Nosferytes upon which to feast. New Kelda is ruled by King Vastor III, who occupies a humble palace to the East of the city.
    Old Kelda
    Old Kelda is the closest thing to a civilized settlement that can be found on the Vastorian surface. Built into a mountainside, the architecture of Kelda is practical and inornate; it is crafted almost entirely from thick stone, designed to protect the Dwarves from the harsh climate. However, the development of the settlement was interrupted when it attracted the attention of feral Nosferytes who began to ambush the settlers with increasing numbers and frequency. Unable to protect themselves, the Dwarves abandoned Kelda and retreated back underground. The deserted city became known as Old Kelda.
    A large island in the frozen North-West, isolated from the rest of Tyrannia by the desolate region of Vastoria, Rotsanger has been largely untouched. It is uncommon for most to pay it much thought at all, and among those who do it is widely considered nothing more than a frozen wasteland. And for the most part, this assumption would be true; vast, empty plains of snow and rock form the majority of Rotsanger. Thanks to an effect known as Dar’s Gift to residents of the island, sunlight only lasts for a few hours each day in Rotsanger, plunging it into night for unusually long periods of time. This makes it the perfect habitat for the Nosferytes that have made Rotsanger their home. The House of Drachall, headed by Lord Alrik Drachall, rules Rotsanger with an iron fist.
    Atop the tallest point of Rotsanger sits Steinplatz. A city of dark stone coated in thick frost, the architecture of Steinplatz is tall, grand and gothic, with church-like spires and arched windows being de rigueur on even the homes of the lowliest families. Steinplatz is home to one of Tyrannia’s most feared races: the Nosferytes. At the helm of Steinplatz sits Drachallturm, a large tower from which Lord Drachall oversees the region.

    · Ithelm & Savizar ·

    The 'twin islands' of Ithelm and Savizar are certainly not identical, and they seem completely incapable of putting their differences aside. Segregated from mainland Amorynthia, their primitive people live basic lives of survival and conflict. Technically under the rule of King Valdez, the islands are essentially independent due Valdez' neglect and disinterest, leading Ithelm and Savizar to develop their own hierarchies. The islands are currently locked in a brutal war over the volcanic island that sits between their neighbouring shores.
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    Ithelm is an island of harsh, barren terrain: the land mostly consists of stone or dry plains of grass. Nevertheless, it has somehow come to be populated by an isolated and barbaric group of human settlers. Cut off from the mainland, the people of Ithelm are primitive in comparison to the people of Amorynthia and Tumeken; they are a people of basic needs: food, sex, beer and pride. It is this pride that has led the Ithelm tribes to war with the neighbouring island of Savizar. Though they are technically under royal rule, King Valdez holds little interest in the islands and so they are mostly left to their own devices. The unofficial ruler of Ithelm is Chieftain Ragnar Stålhandske.
    Even by the humble Ithelm standards, Ashfeld is a small settlement, rarely giving the rest of the Ithelm much reason to visit. Drawing its name from the ash that settles on its soils and rooftops from Mount Ith, here the air is thick and the ground infertile. Despite this, the ash is considered sacred and is collected for various ceremonial purposes. But yet, Ashfeld has found itself at the centre of Ithelm activity and on the forefront of their war efforts in securing Mount Ith as their own. Sat on the coast bordering the volcano and the rival island of Savizar, Ashfeld is the perfect base of operations for the Ithelm’s warriors.
    Framik is another large Ithelm settlement. Being closer to the sea, the people of Framik enjoy a more varied diet thanks to the availability of fish and sea-plants. They often take large quantities of these resources to Heimlod on their visits, as gifts to the Chieftain and his people.
    Heimlod is the largest settlement on Ithelm, and is the home Chieftain Ragnar. The tribespeople live in bare wooden huts, using meat and fur from the native wolves to eat and keep warm. In the centre of Heimlod is the Grossheim, the a large hall dedicated to meetings of the various tribe leaders from across the island. It is also used for feasts and celebrations by locals, as well as doubling up as the base of operations for the Chieftain.
    Mount Savi/Mouth Ith
    Known under different names in the opinion of the warring islands, this active volcano is known to mainlanders under the more popular name of Mount Savi. The Savizi recognise the island as a volcano, whilst the people of Ithelm believe it to be a mountain and the home of their god, Ith. Mount Savi is at the centre of a war between the Savizi and the Ithelm, whom both claim ownership of the volcanic island as their own.
    A tropical jungle island home to the tribal Savizi people, Savizar has more in common with Ithelm than its residents might like to think. Both communities are primitive and tribal in nature, free of the rule of King Valdez but isolated from the benefits of modern living. The Savizi are governed by a council of shamans, who bring messages from the Jungle Spirits to guide their lives. It was through these ritual communions that the Savizi were instructed to seize ownership of Mount Savi. The Sawazi jungle dominates most of the island, with small settlements for one or two families spread throughout its depths. The jungle is also home to many poisonous flora and fauna, which has caused the Savizi to become relatively adept at brewing remedies and other potions.
    Sambawe is one of two communities on Savizar, as most families live independently. As the home of the Elder Shamans, Sambawe is frequently visited by people in search of answers from the other side. There is also a handful of especially capable potion-brewers here, whom can be consulted to cure bites and stings acquired within the dense jungle.
    Sanduzi are a more nomadic community; they rely on the other Savizi less so than those tied to Sambawe. Sanduzi are a brutal people, raised to fight from birth in order to survive the particularly dangerous area of jungle they inhabit. Whilst the Sambawe use venom from the jungle to create cures, the Sanduzi use it to enhance their weapons and further their combat prowess. It is said that adventurers would rather bump into one of the deadly Sawazi creatures than the deadlier Sanduzi folk.

    · Falinstađ ·

    The mysterious island of Falinstađ is rarely visited by outsiders; though not by choice. The inherently magical island seems to isolate itself through arcane means, turning away any visitors upon supernaturally rough tides. Known to mainlanders as Mirage Island, Falinstađ is near enough untraceable to the naked eye, occasionally visible on the horizon under the right conditions. The isolated island is rumoured to be the home of the Elves, though few who ever made it to Falinstađ's shores have returned with confirmation...

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    In some ways, Alfurstađ can be seen as the capital of Falinstađ; however, it is not particularly larger nor more populous than the other major settlements. Rather, it is the busiest: seated in the heart of the island, Alfurstađ is the spiritual heart of the Elven people, home to the Mođirheim: their singular point of worship. As the concept of money or trade is foreign to Elves, there are only homes in Alfurstađ aside from the temple.
    Eliđar is a smaller, uninhabited island, situated West of nortern Falinstađ. It did not appeal to Elven settlers, with its comparatively bare terrain and lack of the certain ‘buzz’ that emanates from Falinstađ, the island has remained empty and unvisited for centuries.
    Whilst Falinstađ in itself is perhaps the best-kept secret in Tyrannia; the Kristalhellar go one step further. Even the majority of Elves are oblivious to their existence; a huge, cavernous system accessible through a small opening on the south-eastern cliff face, the tunnels seemed to be crafted entirely from brilliant purple crystal that hums and vibrates, emanating a certain unplaceable power.
    The Mođirheim is a temple in the centre of Alfurstađ, built in honour of the Great Mothers, whom the Elves unanimously worship. Twice a day day, at dawn and dush, the Elves gather at the Mođirheim to pay their respects and thank the Mothers for the world. Tributes are made by casting flowers or small dead animals into the flame, which is eternally burning in the centre of the temple. Mođirheim is perhaps most interesting as being one of few places in the world where Dar is treated with equal respect as her sisters; to the Elves, all four goddesses are considered Mothers of the Earth.
    Nottstađur is the largest settlement in southern Falinstađ, and is famed amongst Elves for its nocturnal views; the moon hangs low and large over Nottvikina, creating spectacular skyscapes for residents of Nottstađur.
    Nottvikina is a large cover on the South coast of Falinstađ, also known as Lunar Cove or Moon’s Bay; both for the crescent shape of the cove and the awe-inspiring views of the moon from these shores.
    Existing to the north of the island, Rolegstađur is one of the larger settlements, renowned among elves for its quiet tranquillity. Many Elves will live in Rolegstađur if they require space to think, as the settlement is known to sooth minds and bring ease to the thinking process.
    Velkostađur is recognised as a point of interest, due to it being the oldest settlement on Falinstađ. Sitting on the Eastern coast, it is here that the first Elves stepped foot onto the island. Most of the surviving original settlers still live here, attached to the land that saved them from conflict and that they now call home.

    Chapter 3 ~ Anthropology
    Part of Tyrannia's inherent wonder is its ethnic diversity. Growing up in a small, woodland village, I had never laid eyes on a non-Human before I began my adventures. During my explorations, I came across a total of four species that I identified as sentient, Humanoid races; that is, non-animalistic, intelligent people. I have documented the details of these various peoples below, in the hopes that you are fortunate enough to cross paths with some of them on your travels. Through learning about others, we often end up learning about ourselves. It is important to remember that, as well as our differences, we also possess similarities through which we can unite.
    · Humans ·
    (Homo recognitus)

    Humans are the most populous race in Tyrannia. The average height is between five and six feet tall; males are larger and more muscular than females. Their hair and skin colours vary in pigmentation from white to black; though red hair is not uncommon. On average, they live to be around seventy years old, though it is not unheard of for them to reach a hundred.
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    Humans are an intelligent species and are responsible (or at least highly involved) in much of Tyrannia’s development. Humans are generally considered to be the most powerful race; if not for their advantageous build and intellect, then for their sheer numbers alone. All of Tyrannia’s royal lineage has been exclusively human, which has lead to a sense of humans being ‘above’ the other races. Humans have a tense history with the Dwarves; aside from the infamous Dwarven Exploitation and subsequent rebellion, some theories suggest that Dwarves were a failed experiment by the creator gods, from which the Humans were designed. This tension has largely settled in the modern age, but naturally some Humans remain who believe themselves to be the master race. Humans are capable of learning magic, but it must be studied and committed to memory. Humans are ruled by King Valdez of Amorynthia, or by King Setsiput of Tumeken, depending on their heritage.

    · Dwarves ·
    (Homo primitus)

    Dwarves are the second most populous race in Tyrannia, though their population only equates to around 60% of the Humans. They live on average for between ninety and a hundred years. Dwarves are shorter and more muscular than Humans, with both genders averaging between three and four feet tall. Males are notably hairier than females.
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    Aside from these differences, they are physically similar to Humans, albeit it shorter and stockier. Whilst they are stronger than Humans and easily as intelligent, their stature causes them to be much slower. The strength of their internal organs means they are largely immune to poisons, though particularly potent venoms may still affect them. Dwarves were exploited by Humans hundreds of years ago, in what was effectively entire racial slavery. This caused a large portion of Dwarves to move into the unoccupied lands of the North, which they would name Vastoria after their leader. However, problems with the feral Nosferytes that lived in the region forced the rebels underground, where they built the subterranean city of New Kelda. Elsewhere, Dwarves who resisted the rebellion can be found all across Amorynthia, especially in Gard, but the Tumeken kingdom tends to be too warm for them. Dwarves are notoriously good smiths, and Dwarven-crafted goods are considered by the majority of Tyrannians to be the highest quality available. Whilst many would argue that the exploitation of the Dwarves is over, with some smiths even able to set up their own smithees in high-end areas of Amor, most of the Dwarven kind still work labour-intensive hours in the Gardian mines. Whilst they do make a profit, it is minimal due to the heavy taxes imposed by the King. Dwarves are incapable of using magic in any form, even through study of the magical arts. Because of this, Dwarven weapons and armours are often enchanted by human mages and resold at a higher cost.

    · Nosferytes ·
    (Homo sanguinus)

    A populous race, though few pay much mind to their existence due to their isolation in the frozen North. Nosferytes are visually similar to Humans, albeit it taller and more muscular, averaging between six and seven feet in both genders. Females are notably more slender. Their skin is pale and even white in some cases; their hair pigmentation is often dark by contrast, but ice-blonde hair is a coveted rarity considered the pinnacle of Nosferyte beauty. They have sharp, fang-like teeth and the race’s eyes are universally deep red in colour.
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    Nosferytes are much stronger and faster than the other races, and they live to be around four hundred years old, in their prime for around half of that. Though, it is not without its drawbacks: an ancient condition curses the bloodline, giving the species an inherent craving for blood, which is highly harmful to their minds and bodies. Consumption of blood grants a Nosferyte instant euphoria and it is easy for them to become addicted: continued ingestion will quickly reduce the Nosferyte to a frail, emaciated shell, losing their hair as well as their mind and living only to consume more blood. These unfortunates are branded ‘Ferals’ by their kind, and immediately deported from Rotsanger on unmanned ships, intending to kill of the weaklings of the species. Unfortunately for the Nosferytes, many of their vessels crash in the convenient Gravesend Bay, which has lead to an increasing population of Ferals in the mountainous region of Vastoria. Nosferytes live in a constant war with themselves to resist the urge to drink, and sustain a carnivorous diet of meat ritualistically drained of its blood. Contrary to the vampiric rumours that surround the species, the Nosferytes are a race in themselves and cannot ‘convert’ victims; nor would they wish to. Nosferytes are capable of learning magic, though it is generally considered by their people to be a coward’s practice: the Nosferytes enjoy the thrill of direct conflict.

    · Elves ·
    (Homo arcanus)

    The Elves are a scarce people, of whom very little is known about. Some wonder whether they actually exist at all, or whether the stories are just folk tale and mythology getting carried away with itself. Supposedly, Elves are visually very similar to Humans, save for their long, pointed ears and slender frames; the latter of which can probably be attributed to their vegan lifestyle on their mysterious homeland of Falinstađ.
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    Physically, they are presumed to be weaker and slower than most species due to their non-hostile existence. The stories suggest that the Elves were once Humans, who fled mainland Tyrrania to escape some vague conflict before records began. From there, their small vessel hit cruel seas, and the boat crashed upon the shores of the island that became known as Falinstađ. Some were lost on the journey, but the majority made it safely to begin their new lives. Over time, they began to change discreetly: empowered by the omnipresent energy that constantly hummed from the core of the island, causing their ears to grow and eventually their entire bodies to constantly levitate, suspended by some arcane power. It is also believed that this power, absorbed from the island, grants them a natural-born potency for magic, with no necessity for study or schooling. It is said that a young Elf could perform magic even greater than the most advanced Human magi. It is said that, thriving on the mysterious energies that stir beneath Falinstađ, some of the oldest Elves are over 700 years old.

    Chapter 4 ~ Bestiary
    This section of the book appears to be badly damaged, with many of its pages torn out or singed away completely. Those pages that remain are in a similarly poor shape, all tattered and scarred. The below is a transcript of what information remained legible.


    - Mortmyres
    Mortmyres are a vile species whose origins remain unclear. My studies lead me to believe that they were once ordinary women, tainted by some kind of malign force and overcome by their most primal desires. Driven only by lust and a thirst for blood, the Mortmyres seem to boast a certain magickal knack that enables them to curse men and lure them to their dooms; though their diet is not exclusively human. Mortmyres are very sensitive to light and heat, and thus they tend to dwell in thick woodlands, swamps and caverns, away from the sun.

    At a glance, they appear like animated corpses, with flesh that has greened with rot and decay. Their skin is festered with disease and tends to scab and flake rather unforgivingly. This also causes them to lose much of their hair. Their features tend to be gnarled with age, like the knotted wood of a withered tree. They have sharp teeth that allow them to easily consume flesh. Reader beware: You may not always recognise a Mortmyre, as they are known to play with the minds of their male victims.


    Chapter 5 ~ Theology
    Whilst on my travels, I came into contact with many forms of faith and religion. It is with regret that, through my own atheism, I paid them so little attention, as in my final years the topic has come to fascinate me. With this in mind, I recruited the aid of Alexander Horne the First, an expert in the belief systems of Tyrrania. With his assistance, we were able to combine our collective knowledge to present you with the following summary of Tyrranian faith.
    · The Old Gods ·
    The Old Gods, also known as the Elder Gods and hailed as the 'Great Mothers' by their worshippers, are said to be the beings who created Tyrrania. The deities were believed to be four sister entities by the names of Yan, Rol, Tum and Dar. Only the first three were prominently worshipped as Great Mothers, due to Dar's questionable moral alignment. Generally, it is uncommon for modern Tyrranians to believe in the Old Gods, and of those who do a large portion are certain these deities have long since left Tyrrania. Exceptions include the Tumek people, who near-exclusively worship Tum, and the Elves, whom worship all four beings.
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    Though historic records are limited, most evidence suggests that The Great Mothers were worshipped for many centuries all across Tyrannia; hailed as the creators of the world. The term Great Mothers most frequently refers to the sister deities Yan, Rol and Tum. It is said that Yan, the oldest and wisest sister, created the earth and shaped it into Tyrannia, but it was too dark for them to appreciate it. Rol, the next oldest, gave birth to the Sun, which lit up the planet and allowed the sisters to marvel at its beauty. Tum, the youngest of the three, was overcome with emotion and wept in awe, her tears of joy flooding the planet with oceans, rivers and streams. They created lifeforms of increasing sentience, with the Dwarves believed to be their first truly sentient creation. The race was considered flawed, and they built upon its design to create what is now known as the Humans. Life was eternal; with no concept of time, the sun never set and bodies did not wither. That is, until Dar arrived. The fourth and youngest sister, Dar, was abandoned by the Great Mothers in another plane of existence, and they believed her to be gone for good. However, Dar had been following them through the cosmos for millennia, and the Mothers had stopped for long enough to create Tyrannia that she was able to catch up. Enraged at what her sisters had done without her, Dar was overcome with rage and set out to ruin their creation. Dar birthed the concept of time, spoiling everything her sisters had made: their creations now needed food, sleep and warmth to extend their lives, which were only temporary. At regular intervals, the skies turned black and the sun was replaced by an icy moon. Paradise was lost, and soon enough Tyrannia was deserted by all four of the sisters, left to its own devices as the Mothers sought out a new realm in which to start again.

    · The New Gods ·
    The New Gods is a historian's term for the pantheon of deities currently being widely worshipped across Tyrrania. The term is used to separate current religion from the first 'wave' of worship several thousand years ago, as the deities and traditions are quite different. Unlike previous worship of the Great Mothers, modern religion is full of conflict between faiths whose fundamental values and beliefs undermine each other. Some people believe in both the New and Old Gods, but choose to worship only one. For example, some people believe that the Old Gods have abandoned Tyrrania, and thus opt to worship Gods they believe are currently watching over the world. It is generally accepted by most people that the New Gods did not create Tyrrania.
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    Ahimoth, God of Life and Death
    The most widely-worshipped deity, Ahimoth is regarded as the giver of life and the bringer of death. It is Ahimoth who ultimately determines whether a soul is pure, and whether it will pass safely into the Afterlife. Ahimothians live their lives according to the scriptures of Ahimoth, hoping to appease the God and ensure that their eternity beyond life is a pleasant one. Ahimoth is morally neutral: he encourages his followers to live good lives, but he is known to punish fiercely and has a reputation for being very unforgiving. This trait is known to deter some Tyrranians from subscribing to his religion.
    Adilah, Goddess of Justice and Wisdom
    Adilah is a Goddess with a following throughout Tyrrania; many worship her in conjunction with Ahimoth, believing that her virtues will help them live a life pure enough to ensure them safe passage to the Beyond. But Adilah also has a strong independent following her worship her alone, and whilst she may only be the second most-worshipped deity in the land, her values of fairness, knowledge and morality earn her the reputation of the most benign deity.
    Carminda, Goddess of Beauty and Song
    Carminda is a relatively niche Goddess, whose followers are often ridiculed as being naïve or even superficial. Carmindan worshippers value the beauty of the world above all else, and see all creation in its pure form was beautiful. Their values of beauty and song have earned them an association with birds, which are considered sacred animals to the followers of Carminda. Whilst they are often disregarded, Carminda and her followers are content with their reputation as harmless disciples, as they are not concerned with wars outside of protecting beauty.
    Destina, Goddess of Fate and Order
    Destina is regarded by her followers as fate itself personified: she is the one who decides what route a life will take, and it is her power that ensures the road is not strayed from. Her morality is considered neutral, as Destinites believe that she will enforce fate regardless of how the outcome will effect the individual. Destinites believe that fate is pre-determined, and thus it is common for them to dismiss the idea of Ahimoth’s judgement. They believe that Destina has a plan for them that will ultimately end well: they must learn self-control and persevere with the cards she deals them in order to attain her rewards. Destinites have a particular tension with the Zorionites, due to their clashing beliefs and values.
    Fusius, God of Strength and Power
    Fusius is a controversial deity, renowned for the ruthless and self-serving nature of his teachings. The God believes that all individuals should fight for themselves; be it for their survival or their happiness. Where Fusius is concerned, there is no strict ‘right’ or ‘wrong’; he endorses doing whatever it takes to become stronger and more powerful. It is the belief of Fusians that the teachings of their God falls in line with the natural way of the world: the weak fall to the bottom, whilst the strong rise to the top. In a world where danger lurks around every corner, it is easy to see why so many people are willing to turn to Fusius for power. Whilst the faction is berated by other faiths, the Fusians believe that all life naturally craves power; it is just within their brave nature that they are willing to admit it and realise their desires.
    Rhiver, God of Peace and Nature
    Rhiver is most commonly regarded as the God of animals, but his followers would argue that peace is his strongest virtue. Rhiverists consist mainly of druids, farmers and wood-dwellers who see truth in Rhiver’s stance that all life should co-exist in peace. Whilst many individuals of other faiths brush off the Rhiverists as naïve and idealistic, they are ultimately considered good people and share a reputation as being one of the more benevolent and globally beneficial factions.
    Zorion, God of Freedom and Will
    Zorion is hailed by his followers as a god standing for independence, but his detractors would label him a force of mischief and chaos. In some respects, Zorionites share the same self-serving purpose as the Fusians, with one exception: their actions need not necessarily benefit themselves. Rather, those faithful to Zorion simply believe in acting on one’s free will, and rejecting the rigid structures of religion found in other faiths. Zorion asks nothing from his followers except that they do as they please, praying to him only if they wish; usually for protection in their endeavours. Zorion tends to attract the more roguish outsiders of society, as the religion is generally frowned upon as immature, irresponsible and disorderly. Because of this, Zorionites have a particularly tense relationship with the Destinites, as they fundamentally disagree with each other.

    Blacksam as Ser Faen

      Faen. He doesn't have a second name.

      Ser Faen of Amor, Lord of the Whisperwood, First of Pirates, The Saint of Swords, Woundweaver, Scion of the Old Gods, Wyrm-Bane, Blademaster. Really, he's got a lot of titles, most of which are entirely made up.



      Full human.

      He's not entirely sure where he was born. It doesn't much matter to him either, though he has noticed that just about every story he hears has his birthplace in a different loaction.

      Faen isn't usually a religious man, though in times of trouble he'll send up a prayer to any God that might be listening and willing to intervene on his behalf. He calls it covering all the bases.

    • HEIGHT:



      Faen is a true hero born. Selfless, courageous, pure in spirit and noble in deed. . .

      Ha-ha, only joking, he's actually a bit of a shit. Not a massive shit though, not so much of a shit that anyone would ever think of him as an out and out villain, just enough of a shit that if everyone ever found out it would pretty quickly put paid to all those stories of him being a hero.

      Instead of being selfless, courageous, pure and noble, Faen constantly struggles with his baser instincts. When confronted by a powerful enemy his first instinct is to run in the opposite direction, when he sees an unattended coin purse he feels the temptation to slide it into his pocket. However he also has the willpower to deny himself these instincts, though on many an occasion they get the better of him. In short he is a fallible human being, hardly the upstanding paragon the stories describe.

      While he would like to share more traits with his heroic counterpart he's self-aware enough to know that he really doesn't have it in him. Conversely though, he feels a responsibility to at least try and emulate the man that people expect him to be. He likes to describe himself as a victim of his own success, in that while he originally tried to play a hero to live a life of luxury, now he has to live an incredibly difficult life due to people expecting him to be a hero.
      This knowledge occasionally depresses him, though he's found that copious amounts of alcohol to be a terrific salve for any feelings of melancholy. He is quick to assure others that he doesn't have a problem though, just enjoys a drink.

      Over the years he's developed a dry, dark, sardonic wit, far sharper than the blade he wears sheathed at his waist. In fact Faen uses humor as a buffer and shield against many of the horrible things he has seen, done, and had done to him.

      He would describe himself as a realist, or a pragmatist. In fact many of the ridiculous situations he finds himself in are down to people placing to much stock in fantasy's and fairy tales, so he can be quite scathing towards those who live with their heads in the clouds.

      What can Faen do well? The honest truth is just about anything he puts his mind too, which surely sounds right impressive until one remembers just how uniquely lazy he is. If Faen can get away with doing nothing, then you can bet your last copper piece that he's going to do nothing. But excuse me, you asked about the man's strengths.

      For a start he's handsome. It might not sound like much, but it's proven itself to be a major boon to the him. See if a man looks like a hero, then people are more likely to believe that his is, in fact, a hero. Just looking the part has gotten him out of more than one scrape.

      He's also a capable liar. Not the best in the world, but a certainly a far cry from the worst. In fact Faen's got a tongue so silver it's a wonder he hasn't pawned it for beer tokens yet. Part of this is due to all the practice he gets, the other part is how honest he is with himself. After all, you can't deceive somebody else if you're putting all your energy into deceiving yourself, and he never wastes time doing that.

      While he isn't the swordsman-God that the storytellers would have you believe, he is quite competent with a blade. Quick, sure and strong, with quite a lot of experience to boot. However he doesn't possess the killer instinct that marks the champion swordsmen from those who are merely talented.

      He spent his formative years in a travelling troupe, and spent his time picking up all the skills on display. He can act, dance, play the lute, tumble, play confidence tricks, perform sleight of hand (a skill he has utilized in feigning a talent for real magic), juggle and throw knifes. In fact about the only trouper skill he didn't take up was singing, mostly because of his atrocious singing voice.

      Shortly before starting on the path of a hero proper he was a sneak thief in the city of Amor. With his deft hands, light steps, and quick wits it was almost like he was custom crafted by the Gods to be the perfect thief. Edge Flyntoch called him the greatest footpad under his employ, and even had Faen pegged as a promising up-and-coming criminal talent.

      Faen is a victim of his reputation. Everyone, from the mightiest king to the lowliest serf, always expects him to some figure of awe, and he has found that when he doesn't match their expectations he is usually met with scorn, anger and outright hostility. He has found that it's easier just to act in the way people expect him to, which is not only incredibly bothersome, but actually quite a strain, and not to mention dangerous. The Faen of legend may be able to, on his own, vanquish a party of Nosferyte bandits without breaking a sweat, but to the Faen of the real world that might as well be a death sentence.

      Secondly Faen is a jack of all trades, master of none. He can fight, but not as well as master-warrior. He can sneak, but not as well as a master-assassin. You get the picture.

      And I feel it may be worth mentioning that I suspect he may be a borderline alcoholic. He insists he doesn't have a problem, but I feel he doth protest too much.

      He can't sing. I implore you to trust me on this, as I shudder to think about you wishing to test this claim by asking him to perform a melody, and subsequently being subjected to his shrieking caterwaulling. It truly is a fate worse than death.

      He also has many, many, many enemies. After all, one doesn't become as famed a hero as Faen without facing many a perilous villain in the process. However the problem with villains is that they are quite adept at holding grudges, and Faen has accrued quite a few. From the villagers of Valeview to the criminals of Amor, the pirates of Rat's Nest to the scavenger lords of Old Tumeken, it is quite easy to find someone who holds something against Faen (if only something as simple as not settling his bar tab before he skipped town).

    • ATTIRE:
      Faen dresses in old, but well made clothing. His rust shirt and grey trews are crafted of the highest quality cottons, while his boots, chaps and jerkin is all soft and oiled dark leathers. His leather-and-chain cuirass is cunningly crafted, and while quite battleworn is still more than fit for purpose. Vambraces cover his wrists, and fingerless gloves adorn his hands. While all of these items are obviously old, his tattered black cloak in particular is ancient, perhaps as old as he is himself.

      A thrice-enchanted basket hilted arming sword and matched dagger. As any tavern drunk will tell you all swords wielded by great heroes must have suitably impressive names, and Faen's are no different. The stories have the sword as 'The Last Resort', and the dagger 'The Last Word'. Faen, however, doesn't hold much stock by naming one's weapons. He merely calls them bloody sharp.

      He also wears a baldric of throwing knives which he can throw with unnerving skill. . . Though he has found that throwing knives aren't as effective as they could be when fighting a man wearing full armour.

      Faen has picked up an assortment of different tools and sundries over the years. To begin with he carries a skinning knife, which helps signify him as a rugged outdoors man to the casual observer (Though he can use it, he really prefers not to. Call him squeamish, but he thinks the act of skinning animals should be left to men with sturdier stomachs.) He also keeps a slim eating knife that sits in a special pouch attached to his swords scabbard. Both of these blades have been utilized as last ditch weapons in the past, to deadly effect.

      He keeps a lock pick set hidden within the buckle of his belt, with several more single picks sewn into the lining of his tunic, and two cunningly crafted into his gauntlets. Really, he ascribes to the notion that one can't have enough lock picks.

      A pouch containing needles and lengths of catgut is fixed to the back of his belt, very handy for someone like Faen who often finds himself on the wrong side of angry men wielding swords. To compound on these medical supplies he usually carries a selection of herbs to make poultices and potions, though his skill in herbology is strictly mediocre. In fact his favorite wound remedy is to imbibe plenty of strong spirits and pray it gets better on it's own, and to that end he keeps a flask filled with the good stuff on him at all times. . . . Though he really does insist that he doesn't have a problem.

      Other than that he possess the usual camping accouterments that a man who travels as much as he must have. Just the usual items, camping roll, blanket, tinderbox, cookpot and tripod etc. He keeps them all in a leather knapsack that he wears upon his back.

      A small silver, circular pendant on a chain. It features an embossed fox curled around itself. He told me that the reason he hasn't sold it yet is that it's so small and tarnished that it wouldn't even get him the money for a half pint of Dwarf-piss ale, though I suspect that the truth is that it actually holds some sentimental value for him.

    • So, you want to hear the story of Faen No-Father, Hero of Tyrannia. Not surprising, many people come to my hearth to hear it. So, where would you like me to begin, in the twisting alleyways of Amor? Upon the waves, scuppering the pirate ships of Rats Nest? Maybe when he found himself locked in combat with Valderez, Butcher-King of the Hidden People, that's a particular favourite of mine.
      Wait, what on earth do you mean that “you want to hear the truth,” I just offered you the truth, you insolent child! I offered you the only truth that people in this harsh world care about, I offered you the comforting truth! The truth that people choose for themselves. What? You want the real truth? Bah, you don't know what you want then.
      I have grown old in this land, and if there's one truth I have learnt then it is that people do not want the real truth in their stories. Life is real and terrible enough without having to add ill-tasting truths that make our stories feel foul and miserable.
      But I can see by your face that you will not be dissuaded from your path, and I have grown cruel in my old age. I will give you the 'truth' about Faen, aye, the whole truth, warts in all, and his lustre will fade from your eyes, and his legends will turn to ash in your memories, and you will realize that the world isn't quite as sweet a place as you hoped. Just don't complain to me when you realize this wasn't what you wanted after all.

      Born somewhere, to some people. He doesn't know who, and claims not to care overmuch either way. Was left with a temple to Carminda. The priests there sold him to a travelling troupe when he was three.

      He was quickly taught skills that would benefit the troupe, and when he showed a quick and grasping mind he was taught even more. By the time he was sixteen he was considered one of the most talented troupers, and suspected he would spend the rest of his life travelling the known world, performing for audiences.

      When he was seventeen the troupe travelled to Valeview, where he first met the 'Lady' Irina Meallach, daughter of the towns mayor. Faen and Irina began an affair, and when the mayor found out he demanded the young mans head. The troupers were ready to defend Faen, even know they were outmanned. Instead Faen sent them on their way, not prepared to see his friends suffer for his misdemeanors. As soon as the troupe was out of sight Faen ran, hoping the mayor would think he was still with the troupe, and that he'd be able to escape in the confusion. He was caught though, and sentence to hang. The night before his sentanc the Lady Irina helped him escape, and he 'accidentally' knocked out four men on his way out (Irina did most of the work) As soon as they were in the clear Irina revealed to Faen that she was sick of village life, and had used the former trouper as a gateway towards a more adventurous life, and that now she had so succiently cut the ties to her former life there was nothing tying her to him any longer. She left him to pursue her own interests.

      With nothing left for him and no desire to return to a troupers life he wandered Amorynthia, passing through Silvermoor where he inardarventally put an end to a rogue mages plans to destroy the town in a flood. He still isn't quite sure what he actually done to save the place, only that the mages plans involved magical lay-lines and chalk markings that were supposed to summon destructive energies, and that when Faen accidentally poured wine over the chalk markings it disrupted the mages spells, and he instantly died of dehydration.

      He eventually arrived in Amor. He was quickly folded into a life of crime, coming to work for Edge Flyntoch, crime lord of Amor. He found he had a knack for stealing things, though when Edge commanded him to assassinate a rival he refused (Not that Faen has any real moral objections against killing people. He will if he has to, he just prefers not to, not least because if you try to kill someone then they have a nasty habit of trying to kill you back) Unfortunately Edge isn't the kind of man to be denied, and so he sent a seperate group of assassins to kill his rival, and when they were finished them they were to deal with Faen. Catching wind of the plot Faen knew he had to do something. Instead of running or fighting he decided to hide, and figured that the safest place to hide would be within Edge's mansion. After all, it was the last place he would look. To his surprise he found that Lady Irina was acting as Edge's live in mistress. After hearing about Faen's predicament she decided to take pity on him. To do this she tried to smuggle him out, but they were caught by Edge's guards. Edge threw a banquet for all his top liutenants and had the two brought before him to gloat before they were killed. Showing an un-characteristc amount of derring-do, Faen stabbed the crime boss with a soup spoon, and in the resulting fracas killed or injured many more criminals escaped with the Irina. The resulting power vaccum, and the struggle for someone to take Edge's place in Amor hierachy can still be felt to this day.

      Together Faen and Irina travelled to Rat's Nest to become pirates, both figuring that was the next logical step. There Irina began to set the basis for the tale of Faen as we know it, describing a man that the pirates could respect. In Valeview he became a man who raided the village for every coin it had. In Silvermoon he killed a powerful wizard for spilling his wine. In Amor he challenged the Lord of Crime for dominion over the city. This new Faen became a hero to the pirates, and all the man himself had to do was play a part. He later asked Irina why she made him the hero of the tale, and not herself, and she revealed it was because she didn't think the pirates would respect a woman as much.

      Over the winter the two lived amongst the pirates, and Faen was celebrated as the greatest raider to ever sail the waves (he's never actually been on a boat proper, other than on the trip to Rat's Nest) One night Irina disappeared, leaving a note telling Faen that her wanderlust had began to play up again. A short while later a ship arrived carrying a cargo of slaves. While he tried to ignore the plight of the slaves and continue living a life of debauchery and mild alcoholism, Faen just didn't have it in him. He secretly set out to free the slaves, and made provisions for them to escape on a row boat. Unfortunately one of the captives was a fire-mage, who as soon as he was free began to attack the pirates. In the chaos several ships where destroyed and Faen was forced to flee once more, leading as many of the slaves to saftey as he could.

      [lots of other adventures which I will flesh out. He slowly becomes known as, deservedly or not, one of the greatest heroes to ever walk the face of Tyrannia, and quite possibly the most famous man alive.]

    Raja as Avarielle Wheeler

      Avarielle Wheeler

      Ava, Sister Rena




      Bellepoint, Amorynthia

      Fusian (formerly Carmindan)

    • HEIGHT:
      5ft 3'



      Avarielle has dealt with a lot of rejection and betrayal in her life. Whilst this has forced her to become comfortable in her own company, she also has a tendency to keep herself emotionally distant from others and finds it difficult to trust anyone but herself. Having to fend for herself has caused Ava to prioritise her own needs, which can make her seem selfish and uncaring. In reality, Avarielle is driven by fear: fear of rejection, fear of neglect, fear of weakness. It is this mindset that causes her to care for herself first and foremost, as she doesn't expect anyone else to look out for her. Ava is very hot-headed and can make rash decisions in the heat of the moment; she is rather impatient in that respect, especially in times of urgency. Ava believes it is important to deal with the problems of today rather than dwelling on the past; her history is not something she likes to revisit, preferring instead to run in the opposite direction of her unresolved conflicts.

      Avarielle is an accomplished mage of intense power. Her arcane abilities are best demonstrated in combat: whilst she is capable of some non-aggressive magic, her real forte lies in her destructive capabilities. She's highly intelligent and passionate, which is likely the root of her magic power, and she is able to think on her feet and make quick decisions. Her natural curiosity makes her a quick learner in topics that interest her, but her impatience can often get the better of her in less gripping areas of study. She is quite good at intimidating people, which can be useful in positions of leadership or persuasion; Ava is driven and willing to do anything to get what she wants. She is an adequate cook, capable of preparing some delicious meals when she puts her mind to it. She's also a fantastic singer and can read sheet music.

      Ava's main weaknesses are emotional. Whilst her pent-up rage bolsters the power of her attacks, she can often find this wrath to be consuming and difficult to control outside of battle. Her impatience leads her to make quick judgements that can land her in trouble if she is not careful, and in general her disagreeable persona makes it much easier to find enemies than comrades. Ava is largely ruled by her emotions and she is willing to lie through her teeth in order to protect her inner thoughts, which can be a disadvantage for both her and her teammates. Her rage-fuelled magical prowess is mainly useful in combat and her lack of emotional control detracts from her ability to master more useful, non-aggressive magics. She is also physically rather weak and values speed over defence, a deadly combination which leaves her incredibly vulnerable to the attacks of others.

    • ATTIRE:
      Avarielle wears thick, grey robes, enchanted with the strength of wood so that they allow her at least some protection from brute force. She binds the garment with a leather belt and drapes herself with an emerald cloak.

      Avarielle carries a small, jagged athame, which she keeps bound to her forearm beneath her sleeves. She prefers to fight with magic and this is used as a last resort.

      Ava uses her athame as a knife, allowing her to cut through tough ropes, wood and other similar substances; the dagger is enchanted to never break, but the charm does not improve its sharpness. She carries with her a small magical pouch she obtained at the Wizard's Tower, which can be filled with many items far bigger than a bag of its size would normally allow. It makes transporting her limited worldly belongings much easier, as the bag is light as a feather. Currently, it contains several spellbooks, various cooking utensils and other minor tools of the arcane.

      Despite her change of faith, Ava always carries the icon of Carminda with her, as it reminds her of her mother and the family she left behind at the abbey. This item is hidden away in her pouch and she is very secretive about it. She also carries a small lump of crystal that she found in her youth, which brings her nostalgia of a simpler time.

    • Archibald and Aviva Wheeler lived in a quaint house in the busy town of Silvermoor. When they were young and foolish, they had fallen in love and, driven by the intensity of their teenaged emotions, the pair were soon wed and settled in the very town they'd grown up in. But people change. Aviva's family had always been devout Carmindan worshippers, and Archibald had less-than-enthusiastically adopted the religion in order to win over her parents and earn her hand in marriage. But whilst Aviva was content in her idolation of beauty, the adventurous Archie longed for a life of substance and personal achievement. When Archibald told Aviva that he was leaving the religion in search of a more fulfilling life, his wife cursed him and vowed that she would ensure he never saw her face again.

      That night, she fled South on horseback; beyond the Great Lakes, past the Two Capitals and further than the forests of Ryth could spread their roots. After countless days and nights of travel, Aviva Wheeler arrived at her destination: the great Carmindan abbey of Bellepoint.

      She was welcomed warmly by the Sisters of St. Caroline, who empathised with her betrayal and vowed to care for a sister of Carminda. And a sister she became... Sister Imogenia the Blameless, as a matter of fact. As Sister Imogenia, she quickly became a well-respected member of the sorority. But just a few weeks into her new life at the abbey, a shocking discovery was made: she was pregnant. By Holy decree, only women were permitted access to Bellepoint, were she to birth a son, Sister Imogenia would have no option but to leave... Or to cast her child away.

      The months passed, and fortunately for the woman formerly known as Aviva, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, whom she named Avarielle. The Sisterhood collectively raised the child, loving her as their own... Until of course, she began to develop a personality. It seemed that young Avarielle was more her father's temperament, and the child was forever sneaking out of the abbey in search of trouble. It was on these outings that Avarielle first met Elymas.

      "How did you do that?" the young girl asked, her eyes wide in amazement as the young boy before her produced a orb of flame and cupped it in his hands as though it were a mere snowball.

      "Magic," said the boy, grinning. "My daddy taught me. He says I'm going to be a great wizard one day." the boy shared, sheer glee and excitement in his voice as he recalled the conversation with his father.

      The girl continued to watch as the flames slowly burnt away into nothing. "I think so too." she said, still mesmerised even in the absence of the fireball. The boy blushed and an awkward silence developed between the pair as the young mage grasped at the air for something to say.

      "Daddy says that if I get good enough, I can go to the Wizard's Tower!" he finally managed.

      "What's the Wizard's Tower?" asked the girl, her eyes still locked on the spot where the fiery orb had once been.

      "They teach you magic. Real magic, too powerful for my daddy to teach me." he said. Something within the girl stirred.

      "Did your daddy teach you anything else?" she asked, finally raising her eyes to meet the boys' once more.

      "Yeah. Lots'a stuff." he said, flippantly. A pause followed.

      She finally asked the question. "Could you teach me?" An even longer pause followed, before the boy grinned again.

      "Sure!" he said. "I'm Elymas, by the way. But you can call me Ely."

      "That's a cool name," she said. "I'm Avarielle."


      Over the years, Ava and Ely would become the best of friends, with Ava regularly sneaking out of the abbey and making the long trek of Woodsend. Here, Ely would teach her the latest spells his father had shared with him, passing on the knowledge as though it were nothing. Perhaps, to Elymas, that's what it was... But to Avarielle, these gifts of his brought her a feeling unlike anything she had ever felt. It was a feeling of strength, of power... And it was one she enjoyed, perhaps a little more than she should.

      Unfortunately for Ava, her years of secret meetings were to be no more. When the Sisters found out that Ava had been secretly learning magic, they were furious. She was locked in the abbey, forbidden to leave her quarters except for prayer sermons and choir sessions. She was forcibly indoctrinated, with the Sisters branding her Sister Rena the Troubled; they made it their duty to cleanse her of her unholy desires. This lasted several more years, with Avarielle growing just a little more resentful with each day that passed. She wondered what Elymas was doing; she wondered how many new spells he'd learned, she wondered whether he'd made it to the Wizard's Tower... But most often, she wondered whether he ever wondered about her as she did him.


      The top of the bell tower provided Avarielle with the perfect vantage point. She loved to sit here and look out over the land; in the distance, she could see the town of Woodsend... On her more wishful days, she was sure she would make out Elymas' house on the horizon. She sighed aloud, conjuring a ball of flame and cupping it between her palms. It burned brighter than any of the fires here in the abbey, that much was certain to Avarielle; though she was never quite sure why. It was as though she was channelling something within her, something she'd locked away... Using whatever hidden power she had to fuel the flames in her hands.

      "Sister Rena?" snapped a stern voice from the doorway, and Avarielle instantly dismissed the fireball in panic.

      "Yes, Sister Joy?" she recited, her voice a mix of nerves and exhaustion.

      "Were you practicing magic again?" she whined, her shrill voice like nails on a chalkboard, stirring venom amongst the reluctant Sister.

      "So what if I was?" she yelled, rage filling her being. "You might be my keeper but you certainly have no power over me!" she roared, something sinister stirring within her. "You can't make me do anything! Not you, not the Sisters, not my mother!"

      It was at that moment that a second figure, overhearing the commotion, stepped into the bell tower.

      "What was that, Sister Rena?" came the shocked voice of the second woman.

      Ava sighed. "Mother, I'm sorry... I'm just so sick of all of this!" she said, overwhelmed by the situation. "I'm sick of this abbey, I'm sick of you calling me Sister Rena. I'm sick of Carminda and all this meaningless existence! I need more, moth--"

      "Stop right there, Avarielle!" came the rage-filled voice of her mother, uttering the true name of her daughter for the first time in recent memory. The entire tower fell silent as the woman shook with rage. "This abbey has dealt with your wrongdoings for long enough. If you no longer wish to be recognised as a Sister of St. Caroline, as a servant of Carminda and all that is beautiful, then we shall no longer stop you. You are free to leave, Avarielle. Pack your things." she spat, scorn in her voice.

      "Mother, pleas--" Ava began, fighting back tears.

      "It's Sister Imogenia to you." she hissed, venom in her voice as she turned her back on the girl and walked away, stopping in the doorway to briefly clarify over her shoulder. "You are no daughter of mine."


      Her excommunication from the abbey of Carminda was bittersweet: on the one hand, Ava had finally escaped the prison she'd been locked in for her entire life. On the other, it had taken being disowned by her own mother. As she left the gates of Bellepointe one final time, deep in her heart Ava knew she would never recover from this. On the outside, however, her face remained stern and cold as she passed the line of sisters who watched her leave, never to return.

      Ava's first call was Woodsend, in search of Elymas. All these years later, though, neither Ely nor his family were anywhere to be found. Some townsfolk said they'd moved North several years ago, but it was too faint a lead for Ava to blindly pursue. She needed some stability if she was to establish herself as a functioning member of society outside of Bellpointe. She had been told she originally came from Silvermoor, and so she got herself a map and began the first of many adventures in search of her origin.

      She found it with relative ease; or rather, she found him.


      A portly, bearded man answered the door. "Hello. Can I help you, miss?" he asked politely as he looked the young woman up and down. There was something familiar about her...

      "Are you Archibald Wheeler?" she asked, nervously. The man was sure he knew her... It was like she was some bizarre fusion of a distant memory and a face he was sure he saw every day, though he couldn't place either... He nodded wearily.

      "Aye. What of it?" he asked.

      The young lady's eyes widened. "I, uh... I'm terribly sorry to bother you, uhm... Mister Wheeler, but..." she paused, gathering her breathe. "My name is Avarielle, and I--"

      The man's eyes burst open, mirroring hers. "Say no more, kid." he said, a grave look creeping over his face. "Your mother always loved that name."


      As it had turned out, Archibald Wheeler was not the man that Ava had been looking for. Of course, he was her father, but... He had no interest in this fact. You see, Archie Wheeler had left Silvermoor in search of adventure, found none, and ended up right back where he started. He remarried, started a family of his own and, according to him, they were happy. He didn't want any ghosts from the past coming along and spoiling that. He gave Ava an amount of gold and the necklace from around his neck, and asked that she did not visit him again.

      Rejected once more, Ava headed to the nearest inn, looking for a place to stay. Before she even had chance to make any arrangements, Ava overheard a conversation between a group of large men that instantly captured her attention.


      "So, what d'yas make o' the wizard's tower? D'yas think they plotting anythin'?" one man asked, paranoid, before taking another large slurp of his ale. The rest of the men followed suit, save for one, who responded.

      "Nah, they's all cowards. The lot o' em. Stinkin', no-good, magic cowards..."

      "I'm sorry," Ava interrupted, gathering strange looks from the group. "Did you mention the Wizard's Tower?" she asked inquisitively.

      "Aye," said the first man. "But what's a pretty lady like you want t' know about the wizzy tower fer?" he slurred.

      "Is it close?" she asked, trepidation in her voice. Somehow, she already knew the answer.

      "Aye," he said again, nodding slightly. "It's a fair walk North-East, but yer could be there by night if you left now..." he said.

      None of the men had time for a response, as the girl was gone, the door of the inn slamming shut behind her.


      When she arrived at the Wizard's Tower, Ava's life took a turn for the better, and she enjoyed several happy years. Elymas had made it to the tower, and was in his fourth year of study; a well-loved and high-performing student, whose reference alone was enough to win Ava her own scholarship. This was a time of development: love developed between the pair, and so did the power within Ava. So much so, that she had soon caught up with Elymas in terms of ability... Some even believed she had surpassed him, though none would admit this. Unfortunately for Ava, Elymas' ego was fragile, and her outperforming him sowed seeds of bitterness in the young man's mind.

      Ava herself only grew more power-hungry. Her thirst for strength was so great, that she began dabbling in forces untouched by the Tower. Arcane arts deemed too dark, too unreliable... Had she been caught, she would have been instantly expelled from the school. Fortunately for Ava, her life thus far had been a masterclass in stealth, and her extracurricular activities remained undetected... That is, until the night she summoned The Borak.

      The event has been an incident; Ava's ritual was supposed to tap in to an arcane stream, which she was successful in accomplishing. However, the ancient entity Borak, a being of power, had been apparently been riding the magical current at an opportune moment.


      "Wh-what are you?" Ava asked the strange creature before her. "I didn't... Mean to bring you here..."

      "I am aware of this," came the ethereal voice of the Borak. "But through the rift you opened, I spotted that icon around your neck," he said, pointing his clawed finger at the necklace Ava's father had given her. "And I knew you were the chosen one."

      "There must be some mistake," Ava reasoned. "This necklace was my father's, it must be him you're looking for. I don't even know what this symbol means." she confessed. The Borak chuckled sickeningly.

      "You bear the mark of Fusius, child. My master; the patron of unmatched strength and unyielding power." he smirked, pausing briefly and lowering his voice. "The same power you yourself were seeking when you brought me here." he added, chuckling that sinister sound once more as Ava's eyes widened.

      "What more can you tell me of this Fusius?" she asked, vaguely recalling the name from her distant memories. She was sure one of the sisters had called her a 'petulant child of Fusius' when she had been caught practicing magic. However, the Borak had little time to reply.

      "I banish thee, Demon!" came the roar of a wizard who burst into the chamber, firing a beam of white energy at the Borak. The name of that wizard was Elymas.


      After the Borak had been sent back to whatever realm he'd come from, Elymas reported Avarielle's activities to the Archmage. Their relationship over, she was immediately expelled whilst he earned the glory of banishing a supposed demon single-handedly. Her heart broken yet again, Ava swore she would never put her truth into another human being again. She would fight her own battles, and win them, whatever the cost... But first, she had to find out more about Fusius...
    #1 Raja, Dec 20, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 6, 2016
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