D
Doughguy
Guest
"Fear not the darkness my children, for darkness is not the enemy of Light. Darkness is only the absence of Light's protection. The true enemy is that which stands in its way, blocking its protection from those who need it most."
Three centuries ago, a thousand seraphim descended on wings of fire to the surface of the world, abandoning their celestial seats to stand alongside humanity. They spread throughout the world, to the farthest reaches of humanity's territories and even beyond. A hundred disappeared into each the east and west and were never seen or heard from again. The remaining eight hundred took to their duty with a religious fervour, standing against the evil and corruption that had permeated the world. They would be a shield for those who were pure and innocent and a sword against those who sought to abuse their fellow humans.
But though they were immortal they were not invincible. One by one the Seraphim would fall. The armies of evil were great, and even the holy warriors could not defeat them all singlehandedly. When the horde of a tyrant battered down the keep walls they stood at the breach, sacrificing themselves to protect their charges. Others found no heroic last stand, dying instead to a knife between the shoulder blades from those they trusted. Some simply broke inside, unable to withstand the horrors that humanity committed. The fire that was their soul burst free of its fleshy confines and enveloped all in its conflagration. And those who remained crumbled as the world grew no brighter by their actions, cutting their wings from their bodies and walking away.
They say less than one hundred remain in this day, less than a hundred holy warriors prepared to fight by humanity's side. And they have left behind a weakened humanity. The Seraphim became their guardians, their legends. Poets sing of their battles, of their victories, and of their deaths. The priests espouse their virtues and their purity. But these tales inspire no one to take up the mantle of a hero beside them. Humanity has forgotten what it means to arm themselves against that which hides in the dark and live in fear of the dying light. The mission of the Seraphim, once so bright now dims, and in doing so reveals the flawed world it leaves behind.
A world failing. A world falling. A world of humanity's weakness.
A world where heroes must rise once again.
Gather round children and listen as I recite the tale of the Heroes of Mercen who gave our ailing world hope.
Three centuries ago, a thousand seraphim descended on wings of fire to the surface of the world, abandoning their celestial seats to stand alongside humanity. They spread throughout the world, to the farthest reaches of humanity's territories and even beyond. A hundred disappeared into each the east and west and were never seen or heard from again. The remaining eight hundred took to their duty with a religious fervour, standing against the evil and corruption that had permeated the world. They would be a shield for those who were pure and innocent and a sword against those who sought to abuse their fellow humans.
But though they were immortal they were not invincible. One by one the Seraphim would fall. The armies of evil were great, and even the holy warriors could not defeat them all singlehandedly. When the horde of a tyrant battered down the keep walls they stood at the breach, sacrificing themselves to protect their charges. Others found no heroic last stand, dying instead to a knife between the shoulder blades from those they trusted. Some simply broke inside, unable to withstand the horrors that humanity committed. The fire that was their soul burst free of its fleshy confines and enveloped all in its conflagration. And those who remained crumbled as the world grew no brighter by their actions, cutting their wings from their bodies and walking away.
They say less than one hundred remain in this day, less than a hundred holy warriors prepared to fight by humanity's side. And they have left behind a weakened humanity. The Seraphim became their guardians, their legends. Poets sing of their battles, of their victories, and of their deaths. The priests espouse their virtues and their purity. But these tales inspire no one to take up the mantle of a hero beside them. Humanity has forgotten what it means to arm themselves against that which hides in the dark and live in fear of the dying light. The mission of the Seraphim, once so bright now dims, and in doing so reveals the flawed world it leaves behind.
A world failing. A world falling. A world of humanity's weakness.
A world where heroes must rise once again.
Gather round children and listen as I recite the tale of the Heroes of Mercen who gave our ailing world hope.
The RP
The Age of Heroes is a fantasy roleplay set in a world where humanity has weakened itself under the divine protection of the Seraphim. Your characters will be the first wave of Mercen's new heroes, taking up the mantle of the Seraphim as mere humans and showing the evils of the world humanity can defend itself. In terms of morality this RP will be fairly black and white, things won't get too complex on that scale. The PCs are the good guys, the enemies you'll be fighting are the bad guys. But there will be tricks and secrets in general, the world has a long history and not much of it is known. So who's interested? :)
The Age of Heroes is a fantasy roleplay set in a world where humanity has weakened itself under the divine protection of the Seraphim. Your characters will be the first wave of Mercen's new heroes, taking up the mantle of the Seraphim as mere humans and showing the evils of the world humanity can defend itself. In terms of morality this RP will be fairly black and white, things won't get too complex on that scale. The PCs are the good guys, the enemies you'll be fighting are the bad guys. But there will be tricks and secrets in general, the world has a long history and not much of it is known. So who's interested? :)
