One thing I feel I urgently need to point out is that leaders need to be original. FFH leaders are not allowed, sorry guys. This is to give the game a more fresh feel primarilly, and also because it allows you to build interest to your civ seperate to the cannon lore...
Noted. I will change my opening story appropriately.
“Brothers and sisters, hear me,” intoned High Elder Aetherus. The "Elder," was not entirely fitting yet;. He was only fifteen, while most elders were in their late twenties. Some even made it to their forties, but Aetherus intended to go further; Ceridwen had promised him long life. Both he and the mob that surrounded him had naught but animal skins to protect them against the cold of winter, and were armed with stone and wood. Most had never dreamed of an empire, or anything beyond living another day without hunger. But Aetherus was different. “It is time for a new age to dawn! An Age of Fire! An Age of Knowledge! I have much to ask of you, brothers to and sisters. Many sacrifices will have to be made, but know that so long as you serve me, we shall build an empire that shall last... until the end of time!” Cheers rose up from the ragged horde. Having given his speech to his followers, Aetherus stepped into the hut that had once been his father's. With Ceridwen's help, he'd been... removed. The tribes suspected dark magic, and Aetherus saw no reason to inform them they were correct. There had been chaos, as his he and his brothers squabbled over leadership. But Aetherus won, coming forth like a god and slain those who refused to kneel before him as such. It had been easy; with Ceridwen's might behind him, they had stood no chance.
This pathetic little tribe had been the weakest in the area, a vicious, mangy pack of beasts masquerading as men. Further, Aetherus had been the weakest of the brothers, a lazy hedonist who cared for little beyond his own pleasures and amusements, and had abused his position as the son of a High Elder to maximum effect. Ceridwen had chosen both for those reasons. With her help, Aetherus had already led them to conquer other, stronger tribes in their minuscule region. Their hatred, their fury was magnificent to behold; they paid back the atrocities they had suffered a hundred fold. Slaves and sacrifices poured into his little capital, and only the Orc tribes, and whatever was beyond them, remained to be dealt with. Ceridwen had spoken to him about creating "planar gates," which would provide him with the soldiers he needed, as long as it was in turn provided with blood... he felt good. He felt like a god...
“Don't mistake yourself for such. You are merely a pawn of far greater powers,” a voice reminded him. He turned to the fire pit to see it had turned a malevolent shade of purple. Damnation, it was her. “And if you wish to maintain your little toy kingdom,” Ceridwen's avatar reminded him, “you'll treat me with the respect I deserve.” He'd forgotten she could read his mind. “Don't forget it again, if you intend to live. What these pathetic mortals think of you is hardly my concern, but do not mistake yourself for a god. You are merely the king of worms, lord of rodents. You are nothing. I could annihilate you now, if I wished it. This world will burn, or you will burn.” He understood, and seeing that, Ceridwen left him. But why couldn't he have some fun with this wretched rock first?
Aetherus looked out upon the collection of huts that would soon be his empire. Oh, yes, he was going to have plenty of fun... this world would kneel before his might. So many wonderful, wonderful pleasures to be had. So much debauchery and depravity awaited in his future. Slave girls from all over the world, wine from every corner of Erebus, substances so debased they would kill a lesser man... the world could burn. Aetherus simply intended to make sure he had the wildest ride possible before it did.
