Mazera Mega Story Thread

[Dean_the_Young]

The first one to recognized him laughed in his face. His head was knocked off with a single punch.

The second to recognize him also laughed, though uneasily at the memory of their last encounter. He knew it was meaningless to resist, and so suffered less.

The third to recognize him fled, knowing what awaited him after past actions. He made it five yards.

No one else laughed. When he marched into that pathetic excuse for a palace, one blow from his hand sent the doors off the hinges. The coward had already made his escape. Orthus sat himself on the throne, cupped his chin in his right hand, golden triangle brimming with power, and smiled as the attainers supplicated themselves before him.

---

History #7: Orthus rises again in the Barbarian South

Orthus, King of the Barbarians, was once the uncontested leader of the Barbarians. That reign ended when the Doveillo champion Lucian bested him in a duel, publicly shaming him by taking his weapon and then sparring him. Afterwards, humiliated in defeat, Orthus left the world's eye.

Now Orthus has returned, wielding power surpassing his famed weapon. His hand glows with a golden symbol, and none, not even the giants, can match him in a test of strength.

For now, Orthus is consolidating his rule of the barbarian cities of the unsettled South. His defeat has weakened the fear his name once brought. But his power is not to be underestimated.

---

 

[Dean_the_Young]

The Legend of the Triforce

Many legends have come and gone across the ages. Many are fake, or so far detached from their origin as to be so. Others reflect the truth timelessly. It is not known who wrote these words, or by what means they came across such knowledge.



Long ago, before even the Gods lay war amongst each other, there were final, doomed, attempts at reconciliation. Before the first blow was struck, three of the gods, one from each of the sides to be known as good, evil, and neutral, agreed to one last attempt at negotiation. They agreed amongst themselves to try, one last time, to avert the inevitable. They would stand against fear, against ignorance, against weakness, to speak once more to their brothers and sisters.

Though they would fail, the mark of their agreement was a golden triangle, eternal and representing the aspects they clung to in those final times. Power, Wisdom, and Courage. These were the three components which they had called upon, and these three were embodied in the artifact known as the Triforce.

Though they failed, the three would not destroy the symbol of their past. Instead they hid away in a beautiful valley, one they agreed not to wage war in or near. In that pristine canyon they placed the Guardian, and in it's form they hid the Triforce to be guarded.

Time passed. Those original guardians were at last broken, and men with unbalanced hearts touched the Triforce. In face of such unbalance, the triangle broke, and the shards split to hosts most deserving of them.

Entire ages have passed since then. Entire mountain ranges have risen and fallen, and the three golden shards have never been reunited, though as is their nature all have found new guardians. If they were to be reunited, though, their wielder would be beneficiary of all three aspects, and his cause would surely benefit.

It used to be that the shards were so well hidden that none believed in their existence. But one shard, the shard of power, appears to have been found by Orthus the Barbarian king. Where the shards are, if the legend is true in whole, is unknown. The only guidance of the legends of old are that the shards are naturally drawn to the number three.

Will you, too, seak the power of gods?

---

Borrowed the items from Fall Further Plus, by the way. Cool thing to come across. Obviously stolen from Zelda.

 

[Seon]

Triforce XD.

Anyways. I have an inspiration. So I might finaly finish whatPiett is up to...

 

[Valkrionn]

The Legend of the Triforce

Many legends have come and gone across the ages. Many are fake, or so far detached from their origin as to be so. Others reflect the truth timelessly. It is not known who wrote these words, or by what means they came across such knowledge.



Long ago, before even the Gods lay war amongst each other, there were final, doomed, attempts at reconciliation. Before the first blow was struck, three of the gods, one from each of the sides to be known as good, evil, and neutral, agreed to one last attempt at negotiation. They agreed amongst themselves to try, one last time, to avert the inevitable. They would stand against fear, against ignorance, against weakness, to speak once more to their brothers and sisters.

Though they would fail, the mark of their agreement was a golden triangle, eternal and representing the aspects they clung to in those final times. Power, Wisdom, and Courage. These were the three components which they had called upon, and these three were embodied in the artifact known as the Triforce.

Though they failed, the three would not destroy the symbol of their past. Instead they hid away in a beautiful valley, one they agreed not to wage war in or near. In that pristine canyon they placed the Guardian, and in it's form they hid the Triforce to be guarded.

Time passed. Those original guardians were at last broken, and men with unbalanced hearts touched the Triforce. In face of such unbalance, the triangle broke, and the shards split to hosts most deserving of them.

Entire ages have passed since then. Entire mountain ranges have risen and fallen, and the three golden shards have never been reunited, though as is their nature all have found new guardians. If they were to be reunited, though, their wielder would be beneficiary of all three aspects, and his cause would surely benefit.

It used to be that the shards were so well hidden that none believed in their existence. But one shard, the shard of power, appears to have been found by Orthus the Barbarian king. Where the shards are, if the legend is true in whole, is unknown. The only guidance of the legends of old are that the shards are naturally drawn to the number three.

Will you, too, seak the power of gods?

---

Borrowed the items from Rise from Erebus, by the way. Cool thing to come across. Obviously stolen from Zelda.

Had to fix part of your post.

I love the background though... Mind if I steal it for the Pedia entry?

And thank Warkirby for the buttons... I think they came out great.

 

[Dean_the_Young]

Had to fix part of your post.

I love the background though... Mind if I steal it for the Pedia entry?

And thank Warkirby for the buttons... I think they came out great.

Please do. You'll want to edit the final paragraphs to something like:

Time passed. Those original guardians were at last broken, and men with unbalanced hearts touched the Triforce. In face of such unbalance, the triangle broke, and the shards split to hosts most deserving of them. Those, too, passed, and the fragments traveled on to new weilders.

Entire ages have passed since then. Entire mountain ranges have risen and fallen, and the three golden shards have never been reunited, though as is their nature all have found new guardians and returned to their resting place, under the watchful gaze of the guardian. If they were to be reunited, though, their wielder would surely be beneficiary of all three aspects, and his cause would surely benefit.

Where the shards lay, if the legend is even true, is unknown. Those who stumble across their guardians tend not to live to tell the tale. Even so, the legend is tempting, is it not?

Will you, too, seak the power of gods?

Actually, I had a in-game problem with it; I couldn't pick up the dropped items. I had to cheat with worldbuilder before I could get the Triforce in an auto-spawning fort on a mountain?

 

[Valkrionn]

Are you using patch 1.12? You can pick the items up in it... Xienwolf had redone the equipment system, and I had thought you no longer needed spells to pick them up. The Guardian will have it's tile made into a hill on game start... If I can figure it, I'll also force a pass in the mountain chain there, so it actually DOES guard a pass. That would take quite a bit of work to figure out though.

I'll use the edited text, thanks!

 

[Dean_the_Young]

"If you think yourselves powerful as gods among men."

"If you think yourselves skilled beyond masters."

"If you think yourselves wise beyond gods."

"You are wrong."

"It's our own fault," the seargant at arms continued, walking infront of assembled serpentine. "It's our job to make you confident, to tell you such things. For lesser tasks, confidence from ignorance is perfectly valid. Courage gained by strong drink, even aided by magics, will suffice."

"But I promise you," the veteran of the Chain of Lessers campaign said, "there are trials in this world that defy magic, that reject delusions and substitute crutches for what they are. When your magic fades away under assaults of entropy magics, when your adrenaline and intoxicants are flushed away by a Dragon's roar, all that will be left is your true mettle. Nothing else."

"In terms of power and material, there is nothing unique to the Ordine Serpentine that can not be replicated. Our mithral arms are the same any other with mithral could equip. Our alteration magics, the specialty of our nation to make our bodies ideally fit and capable, could be replicated by others with our level of mastery. Our tactics and experiences are like any other nation's, and we freely borrow and steal superior tactcs and technology as we find them."

"But if strip away the equipment, if you tear away the organization, if you reduce each and every man to his core, no one surpases us. The rest? It can be added. It is more than fearlessness, composure under stress. It is about balance within yourself, a balance that provides the firm foundation for which no terror, no threat, can upset you and cause you to fall."

"It is my job to see that you find that balance. And I will warn you upfront, we will strip all the excess, unbalanced beliefs from you. We will break down your sense of self to it's core. And then we will teach you how to rebuild yourself, without those flaws."

"You may have experienced training less physically demanding than what awaits. You have not experienced anything as psychologically demanding."

"Now, follow me as we enter the Hell Terrain beneath the surface of this isle. We will start in the Cavern of Perdition, and go through Burning Sand Pit."




-A Typical Beginning for Serpentine Training

 

[Dean_the_Young]

History #8: Xivan T'nava Upsurps Rigaltor Slavers

Xivan T'nava, the Upsurper, has taken control of the Rigaltor Slavers and established himself as the absolute ruler of the slavers.

Anyone hoping for a benevolent ruler is sure to be disappointed. The Rigaltor are even more ruthless and driven than before, and have enslaved entire barbarian cities in the south, the one place they could have hidden all this time.

Nations of Mazera, beware. The Rigaltor are slavers unlike any other, beyond any else. They view their chattle slaves as you might view a pen; tools who's only value is in thier use. They view themselves above even gods and demons, and may well have the means to enforce that position too.

 

[Dean_the_Young]

OOC: From now on, when I'm making updates as acting DM, such as world updates, I'll preface my updates with "WORLD". Otherwise, I'm still playing Grigori.

---

They at least had courtesy for her, Volanna thought. It surprised her, a little; she wouldn't have been surprised had they given her nothing. Whether it was a response to her own complete cooperation, or a fear of contention with the Grigori, the Bannor gave her every right they gave any other criminal. Even a last meal.

The precession to the gallows was a curious affair. People made way on the streets, but few stopped and stared. Half of those that did, it seemed, were Grigori citizens who had come for the occasion. Some cursed her. Others held sympathy with her actions. She saw none of her fellow Adventurers, and was glad for it.

She walked to the gallows without hesitation, and offered no resistance when the noose was placed over her head. That earned a nod of... approval? Appreciation?... from the executioner. She stood, and weighted, heard the lever pulled, and felt the floor drop from under her even as there was a tumultuous sound in the crowd.

---

On this day, the Grigori Adventurer Volanna was executed in the Bannor capital. Though there was a small disruption of violence as a small group of Grigori tried to stop the execution, violence which lightly injured the companion of the observing Grigori official, the execution by hanging was carried out.

As per agreement, the body was immediately turned over to the Grigori, who quickly and quietly took the body away, even as Medicos arrived in the city to attend Cassiel.

---

When she became aware, she was surprised to find herself bound and gagged. Immediately she tried to quietly get out of the bindings, but was unable to keep from knocking against the side of her container. It was enough to alert her hooded captors, however, and soon one lowered himself to her level.

"Remain quiet," he whispered. "We're not quite out of Bannor territory yet."

She answered with a firm headbut, and as he was stumbling she attempted to slip around her gag in order to yell to whoever might hear her. Whatever her fate with the Bannor, these were unlikely to be any better.

Or perhaps not.

"Damn it, Volanna!" the one she had hit cursed, "it's me!" The hood fell back, and underneath was the face of a man she recognized.

"Kimble!" she said through her gag. The Grigori man understood, though.

"Listen," he directed, "you need to stay calm. There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for why you aren't dead."

She glared meaningfully, and after helping her sit down he explained.

"Volanna," he said, "you are dead in the eyes of Bannor Law."

"We reached an agreement with the Bannor. You are a Forsworn, effectively a dead woman. Technically under the Bannor, you have been secretly assigned under our command until the end of the war against, and I quote, 'those who would twist, corrupt, or destroy Mazera into wickedness.'"

Her gag having been removed, Volanna could speak.

"That is so wide a definition as to be meaningless," she observed.

"Indeed," agreed Kimble with a smile. "And because you've always been most effective when secret, we were able to convince the Bannor a mock execution would be the best way to fulfill the spirit of their laws." The smile dropped when she did not seem appreciative.

"I accepted my fate," Volanna said. "Now, what does it matter? Cassiel, he-"

"Cassiel lives," came the voice of another passenger, one of the youngest adventurers amoung them. She recognized him as Messa, and he was not accepting of her state of mind. "And so does his legacy. Don't you dare give up on him yet. What Cassiel stands for is more than Cassiel himself, and as long as there are Grigori it will need to be defended."

Without losing balance, he marched across the wagon and gripped her collar, looking her straight in the eyes as if there weren't a millenia-old age gap between his experiences and hers. Irregardless of age, he had a fire and will that was forcing her to match it.

"You will live," he stated with the full force of conviction. "You will fight. You will lie, cheat, murder, betray, as you did when you were once in the Svartalfar court. And you will do it for Cassiel, and for what he stands for. You already showed us that, showed us how far you would go once. You will not falter now."

There was a flash of... something. Recognition, on her part, of a conviction that she had followed before, and would follow again.

She nodded, and Messa released her and walked back to the front of the wagon, speaking to the driver. Volanna sat back, and released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"He sounds confident," she said at last.

"He's been like that since he returned from the north," Kimble agreed. "Something changed in him. He has a drive, a passion he didn't have before."

Volanna raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or bad?" she asked.

Kimble hemmed and hawed, but said nothing.

 

[Diamondeye]

Flauros' body jolted as he opened his eyes, and his hand gripped tightly around Mouar's.
"Does Alexis live?", he whispered, hoarse. She nodded before realizing that he probably couldn't see. "She lives," she added.
"Does Volanna live?", he whispered, slightly more calm. She maintained the silence for a long time. After remembering her promise to him, she whispered back: "She is dead in the eyes of the Bannor Law."
"But she lives," he added. Not inquiring, just confirming the information that her tone had revealed.
"Does Ilyth live?", Flauros asked. This struck Mouar as strange, because Flauros of all people should know. She answered him the best she could: "I don't know. You fought him... You defeated him, didn't you?"
Flauros scrambled out of the bed, nodding. "Yes, yes, I defeated him... But does he live?"
His eyes, still whitened by the poisons, saw nothing, and he scrambled feverishly around the room, feeling for something on the floor. "My sword, where is my sword?"
Mouar took a firm hold of him and placed him back in bed. "You can't fight yet, Flauros. You can't even see."
Flauros shook his head violently. "No, not fight. I... Defeated him with the sword. The same sword that freed Alexis' soul. Where IS IT?"
Slowly, comprehension dawned on Mouar. She knew what the answer was, but dared not say it.
"I lost it, didn't I? During the ambush?"
Mouar nodded - realizing all the while that he still couldn't see it - and replied: "When we saw you, you were being dragged by your personal guard, severely wounded. You were lucky to even survive, Flauros."
"... But I lost my sword. The Sheaim... Took it."
"Impossible. Your guards killed all of the Sheaim."
"... And the Dark Elves?"
Mouar relaxed. "The three of them are being held in custody, top security."
Flauros shook his head, silently crying from his blinded eyes. "There were four! There were four of the Winter Elves, and only three of them were caught!"
Mouar could feel the insurmountable despair in his voice and sat down with him, silently overwhelmed. Finally, she asked him what this could mean.
"I don't know exactly. Something bad. Something very, very bad. A soul as powerful and ambitious, greedy and egoistic as Ilyth... Makes a good demon."

Meanwhile, somewhere in Sheaim lands, two refugees from Ilyth's rule met. The stealthy and decieving woman stepped out of the shadows, holding out the long, slim blade. The robed, dark figure opposing her quietly removed his hood. Katakien smiled as he recieved the blade that contained his former earthly masters soul. Not only would Ilyth now fulfill his entire potential, he would also be easier to control. And he would be wanting revenge.

 

[Dean_the_Young]

"Move aside, scoundrels! Make way, or I'll toss ye overboard myself!"

No one doubted Captain Blackheart would make good on his threat. No one needed that threat either; good Lanun nearly scrambled overboard themselves to get out of his way.

No, not his way. The way of his... woman? No, that was wrong. She was no man, no mortal's woman, except perhaps her own.

A young woman, but she scared everyone. Terrified. With barely a glance.

Captain Blackheart cleared the decks, and she followed in his wake as surely as the next wave followed the first. As if not even seeing them, hearing another master's call, she stepped forward to the bow of the ship.

Blackheart at last made way for her, bowing as he did so. Nothing else was appropriate.

Standing on the bow, rocking in tune with the waves, she whispered. A prayer, perhaps; no one was sure. No one was close enough to tell. But it was surely answered.

In the distance, there was a geyser of water, and then that the fin that every sea goer saw in their nightmares.

"Leviathan!" screamed the lookout of their ship, and the next ships behind them. "Leviathan!"

She cared not, if she heard. The men, though, did. "Captain!" they urged, pleaded, begged. "We have to escape! We must turn mast an flee!"

"You will do no such thing," was the reply, but not from Captain Blackheart. It was the girl, sparing them a terrible look of scorn that made cowards of them all. "You will watch, and bear witness."

"Witness to our own deaths?" was the unidentified muttering of the bravest of the lot.

"You heard the lass!" roared Blackheart. "Not one man move!"

She sparred him the closest thing to approval she ever gave, and turned back. The men watched, terrified, but more terrified of the strange girl.

Other ships, ships without captains such as theirs, turned and fled. Not even Falamar's representative to this unusual gathering stood his ground.

They had barely finished their turns when great white tentacles rose from the sea, crashed the decks, and dragged those fair-weather sailors to the Overlords. Those ships which had followed orders to stay, and those ships alone, were spared the Kraken vengance.

Still the Leviathon charged. It's upper body was visible, a sight not seen and survived except in the most miraculous of cases.

"Bear witness," the girl said again, and they could hear her words echoed in the wind. Later, other ships would swear on their bones that they had heard her speak clear as day, though she had not raised her voice in the least.

The Leviathon charged. She stood on the bow, and watched. She raised a single hand, and for the first and only time in the voyage, raised her voice. It was not her own.

Be gone!

It roared, echoed in their minds. Grown men wailed, the weaker jumped off the ramparts and into the deep. Even Blackheart bowed in pain. But she did not.

The Leviathon, however, did. It roared, roared as if it's very soul had been ripped out. The beast of Danalin, the monster that could devour Kraken without effort, let forth a curdling crie before submerging and turning, fleeing to lessen the suffering on it's broken mind.

They had seen it. They had born witness. And when she turned to them, they looked at her, and recognized. Recognized why Blackheart had brought this girl aboard, why the most dreaded pirate of the Lanun had sumbitted himself to her.

"Did you see? Will you follow, and obey?" the Hannah asked of them.

Not one soul dreamed of defying her, or the Overlords.


---

History #9: A New Leader Rises From Within the Lanun

A young woman named Hannah has assumed a meteoric rise within the Lanun fleets, terrifying and cowing ships into her service. Hannah is a devout follower, and chosen, of the Overlords.

Hannah, without directly confronting Falamar, is rapidly assuming a great deal of control in the parts of the Lanun empire that Falamar has tended not to pay much attention to. Hannah claims no vendetta against any power that respects her rise, and the authority of the Overlords over their claimed.

As proof of her sincerity, Hannah emerges with an offer to all with concerns on the Western Sea, in effect the Overcouncil which is the dominating force on the waves. Hannah offers to send her Speakers on shipping. These followers of the Overlords will pray to the Overlords for safer travel, bear richer harvests from the sea and, perhaps most assuringly, drive the Leviathon away from any attacks.

Her only price is recognizing her claims to all Overlord lands, and to speak against the Grigori settlements on Rinwell, sacred island of the Overlords.

 

[Dean_the_Young]

Overcouncil Meeting Called To Discuss Hannah​

An Overcouncil meeting has been called to discuss the rising person of Hannah, her offer, and and her demands. There are concerns within the Lanun, and Falamar for her rise, the Elohim have a strong interest in ending the Leviathan's threat, and similar.

The Grigori, as the direct subject of her demands, will certainly be interested in the discussion.

Other topics of concern include worries within the Calabim and Flauros's recent trials, and the Infernal foothold on the south western sea. The demonic presence in Hippus lands will also be raised.



The Overcouncil meeting is called for [today] at [8:30 pm central, +9:40 from time of post], at the Halls of [Erebus Chat]. If council members experience delays in attending, the meeting will be postponed until the next day.



(OOC: A new device I wish to try: council meetings. Hopefully weekly, members of a council will meet at Erebus Chat at a designated time, discuss the latest developments, and make plans to move the story on. I'll drop hints of events for the next week, and so on.)

 

[Diamondeye]

[OOC: I will have very scarce time, so unfortunately I think this kind of meeting wouldn't work. We could start a Google Wave, though?]

 

[Dean_the_Young]

[Google wave?]

 

[Diamondeye]

[OOC: I was about to say "google it" - At the moment, it's only being betatested, but it is basically a document/conversation that many people can edit in at the same time. You can attach pictures and other files, and do all sorts of stuff. I can throw you an invitation if you send me your google e-mail adress - or you can search Youtube to find out more]

 

[Dean_the_Young]

Yeah, so myself and Diamondeye do not a megastory thread make. I'm strictly going to be a every third person poster in this thread for now on, because it's useless to keep CPR on this thread if the only people responding to it with any regular frequency are myself, Diamond, and myself.

 

[Tasunke]

(im still here)

suffice it to say Justinian is alive and Alexander is roaming about as well. Will fill in details later. (was gone for Thanksgiving, would of added sooner)

 

[thomas.berubeg]

I will be more involved in a few weeks, promise

 

[Dean_the_Young]

Then this thread is going to be sleeping 'for a few weeks', however long that turns out to be.

 

[Diamondeye]

Alexis was having a rest from the unending line of meetings with the Overcouncil, alone in her chambers, when someone gently pushed the door open. She recognized the stature of the woman and immidiately thought she had lost the last bit of her mind. Valledia The Even entered the room and sat down opposite Alexis, speaking to her in hushed tones.

"You've had enough opposition against you, Alexis, enough lies have ruined your renown and spread doubt as to your loyalties."
"You died, Valledia. You can't be here."
"You died too, Alexis, yet you are here. What should be different for me?"
Alexis was about to reply but noticed that Valledia's golden hair had now turned black and flat. Alexis was staring into the eyes of herself as she looked before Succellus had redeemed her. She shook her head violently, then suddenly stopped. "Why has Esus sent you, Goetia"?
The figure opposite her, now a hooded man, nodded and smirked. "Finally, you guessed it. I was afraid it'd never happen. My Lord has sent me to assist you. The Sheaim and D'Teshi are working... against his agenda."
"And what is his agenda?"
Goetia just shook his head. "You're not one of Us, Alexis. I am not asking your loyalty, only your coorporation. In return, you will respect my silence. Now, how can we stop the Sheaim? You know what qualities you command in me."