Neverwonagame3
Self-Styled Intellectual
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2006
- Messages
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Is that somehow related to my comment or not? If it is, could you explain please?
SprylliNES IV: The Eternal Myth
- Thread starter spryllino
- Start date
Is that somehow related to my comment or not? If it is, could you explain please?
It's up to Spryllino to say, but I think taking over Myra or telling the tale of Myra's city from one of its inhabitants' point of view would make sense.
Neroel is the busiest place so far because it's the oldest. There are Hillmen without leadership inside.
Also consider the updates are separated by generations, so your peasant will probably be dead or very old by the next update. Apart from Endas (the first one) who lived from the beginning and has been replaced by a younger witch, noone lived from the first update. Prillitas is the oldest character out there and even then wasn't an important character (or even named) until recently. This basically means you can't make much character development. The goal is more contribute to writing a myth.
Neverwonagame3
Self-Styled Intellectual
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2006
- Messages
- 3,549
I'd much rather write an original character or group than take over somebody else's- I would also like very much to start off with some group with no idea what's going on so I've got more of an excuse for being so. I'll suggest to the mod that I start off with a peasant group moving to a city with other players (giving me an opportunity to get involved in city politics without knowing too much), and move out from there.
Quisani
Gaming Person
"...gate your farming duties, and your family will suffer. Work is required in all avenues of life, my son." Lerquinas gazed up at the rough looking fellow before him. The man was staring back at him with a mixture of awe, reverence and confusion.
"Thank you, lord abbot sir! I truly will take those words to my heart... though if, mayhap, you could put them in terms my little son could understand, that I may explain to him the words you dreamed?" Lerquinas had sympathy for the man, as he did for most of those who came to him these days. He'd come to expect this sort of request. The process leading up to it had become a bit of a ritual he'd developed.
"Please, Jerence, you may call me Lerquinas, as do all those to who I attend. To put the words of the dreams in plain terms, spend some time with your family. It will do both you and them some good." Lerquinas had learned long ago that talking to a person about their life, and then giving them advice would not cause a change in a persons habit. However, he had a reputation for dreaming, once, and people did cling to their memories so. Combining his advice with his reputation had some effect on the people. He concluded his session with the farmer, which was the last one of the day. There were still many people there, but they were there for a service being conducted by a younger priest. He quietly extracted himself from the quiet affairs of others to proceed home.
He was still some distance away from his door when his other job began.
"Lerquinas, there you are! The Librarian, The Acolyte, The Adjudicator have been waiting for some time!" The speaker was The Scholar, the first of four advisers to the High Priest, and minor administrators in certain parts of the city.
"Of course, Meca, I know. I do get distracted by Ler... Neroel's citizens. What is chief concern tonight? Hillmen causing trouble, or perhaps poor harvests?" Lerquinas waited a moment for Meca's reply, but one never came. When Lerquinas turned to see what had silenced his vocal friend, he saw he friend was still, like unto a statue. "Meca, my friend, what has gotten into you? Is it some demon?" The answer that came was not what he was expecting.
"Spawn of Cephas, do you hear me?" The voice came from nowhere. Lerquinas looked around, hair raising as it had not since he was young.
"Aye, I hear you. You have come to trouble an old man like myself, have you? You deities leave me and my brethren in silence for years, while demons rage throughout the land? Did it cause great joy in the halls of the gods? Did you all have a-"
"SILENCE!" And Lerquinas was silent, though cursing those gods all the same. "We have claimed you and your kin, priest. You exist to do our bidding. If you are displease with our treatment of you, we will gladly throw you to the Devil Below." The few moments of silence reverberated through Lerquinas bones. "We speak now to warn you. The Devil grows in strength, and tries to prevent us from speaking directly to mortals. Your kind are of the few we can speak to when the Devil is away. Your kind hold back the tide. We shall one day chose one of your spawn to rele..." The voice slowly died out. A few second more, and Meca spoke.
"Of course its the Hillmen? When is it not? Lerquinas, you look odd. Are you well?" At that moment, Lerquinas collapsed. At the same time he began to dream.
"Thank you, lord abbot sir! I truly will take those words to my heart... though if, mayhap, you could put them in terms my little son could understand, that I may explain to him the words you dreamed?" Lerquinas had sympathy for the man, as he did for most of those who came to him these days. He'd come to expect this sort of request. The process leading up to it had become a bit of a ritual he'd developed.
"Please, Jerence, you may call me Lerquinas, as do all those to who I attend. To put the words of the dreams in plain terms, spend some time with your family. It will do both you and them some good." Lerquinas had learned long ago that talking to a person about their life, and then giving them advice would not cause a change in a persons habit. However, he had a reputation for dreaming, once, and people did cling to their memories so. Combining his advice with his reputation had some effect on the people. He concluded his session with the farmer, which was the last one of the day. There were still many people there, but they were there for a service being conducted by a younger priest. He quietly extracted himself from the quiet affairs of others to proceed home.
He was still some distance away from his door when his other job began.
"Lerquinas, there you are! The Librarian, The Acolyte, The Adjudicator have been waiting for some time!" The speaker was The Scholar, the first of four advisers to the High Priest, and minor administrators in certain parts of the city.
"Of course, Meca, I know. I do get distracted by Ler... Neroel's citizens. What is chief concern tonight? Hillmen causing trouble, or perhaps poor harvests?" Lerquinas waited a moment for Meca's reply, but one never came. When Lerquinas turned to see what had silenced his vocal friend, he saw he friend was still, like unto a statue. "Meca, my friend, what has gotten into you? Is it some demon?" The answer that came was not what he was expecting.
"Spawn of Cephas, do you hear me?" The voice came from nowhere. Lerquinas looked around, hair raising as it had not since he was young.
"Aye, I hear you. You have come to trouble an old man like myself, have you? You deities leave me and my brethren in silence for years, while demons rage throughout the land? Did it cause great joy in the halls of the gods? Did you all have a-"
"SILENCE!" And Lerquinas was silent, though cursing those gods all the same. "We have claimed you and your kin, priest. You exist to do our bidding. If you are displease with our treatment of you, we will gladly throw you to the Devil Below." The few moments of silence reverberated through Lerquinas bones. "We speak now to warn you. The Devil grows in strength, and tries to prevent us from speaking directly to mortals. Your kind are of the few we can speak to when the Devil is away. Your kind hold back the tide. We shall one day chose one of your spawn to rele..." The voice slowly died out. A few second more, and Meca spoke.
"Of course its the Hillmen? When is it not? Lerquinas, you look odd. Are you well?" At that moment, Lerquinas collapsed. At the same time he began to dream.
SKILORD
Insurgent
Nice update, I am very pleased with the resolution of conflicts, the time passing has also given me a better perspective on the whole thing and brings me to celebrate the failed rebellion for it's failure.
I'll be working on a story, Caricinole needs to get fleshed out.
I'll be working on a story, Caricinole needs to get fleshed out.
You could take the Hillmen or Myra, either of which is fairly free for you to characterise as you like.
I'm open to a wandering band of peasants too though. Post an idea and a background story if you'd like to do that; I have no objections to a new clan in the NES.
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
No, that was directed a freeman's comment. He suggested that Mulhudullimillolotodull could be a demon. Utter nonsense.
So anyway, story time.
Frast's beard and mustache were standing on end. His tanned scalp was exposed; he had cropped it at the beginning of the warm seasons. He was standing on the shore, looking at the road that leads to Lerone. The Prophets had gone and returned several times now, each time bringing a handful of converts. Mulhudullimillolotodull blessed their mudstone houses and the Lake dwellers taught them how to gather the silt clams and the sifting fish near the reeds and on the recently exposed sand bars. Frast greeted the new arrivals, a family of five that had lost a home in some 'cataclysm' in the city. Their house was incomplete, but the Deep One would provide. He always did.
Frast's hairs were still on end, and he knew the calling of the depths was bubbling its way to the surface. He tromped toward the lowered water line through the clayey mud
and dove into the waters. Mulhudullimillolotodull's presence engulfed him and he could hear the Depth-Roller's voice like the sound of bubbles speeding from the unseen deep.
"Lowly servant, the new converts are strong in their faith, because I have supplied for them. Their hunger was sated by my bounty, and their worshipful praises sated my own desire for the unfettered love of faith. I will rest and know the next great step in the transformation of the people of this land. The peoples of the waters of this land are mine, Vizier. Keep them while I rest. Keep them near the bosom of the lake." Frast was buoyed to the surface, and he swam to the floating village.
He had so many questions, but Mulhudullimillolotodull's answers came on a supernatural schedule, with no regard for Frast's wants. Frast went to his quarters and rested easy, still hearing the rolling voice of his master. Within a week the revelations bubbled to the surface.
Mulhudullimillolotodull's realm was to unify under a new language, one born in the mind of the Deep god, one that could wholly satisfy his need for praise, one that would bear his power to a new high and would allow further expansion upstream, to the source of the river.
The Deep One's lust for power tickled a doubt in the mind of Frast, a brief flicker of flame that was quickly extinguished by the dedication to the Lord of the Lake. Frast didn't even notice the subconscious buckling in the bulwark of his faith, but Mulhudullimillolotodull did. The Deep Lord noted the smoldering doubt and resented, in his own arrogance, the arrogance of the Vizier. Perhaps it was time to test their faith.
So anyway, story time.
Frast's beard and mustache were standing on end. His tanned scalp was exposed; he had cropped it at the beginning of the warm seasons. He was standing on the shore, looking at the road that leads to Lerone. The Prophets had gone and returned several times now, each time bringing a handful of converts. Mulhudullimillolotodull blessed their mudstone houses and the Lake dwellers taught them how to gather the silt clams and the sifting fish near the reeds and on the recently exposed sand bars. Frast greeted the new arrivals, a family of five that had lost a home in some 'cataclysm' in the city. Their house was incomplete, but the Deep One would provide. He always did.
Frast's hairs were still on end, and he knew the calling of the depths was bubbling its way to the surface. He tromped toward the lowered water line through the clayey mud
and dove into the waters. Mulhudullimillolotodull's presence engulfed him and he could hear the Depth-Roller's voice like the sound of bubbles speeding from the unseen deep.
"Lowly servant, the new converts are strong in their faith, because I have supplied for them. Their hunger was sated by my bounty, and their worshipful praises sated my own desire for the unfettered love of faith. I will rest and know the next great step in the transformation of the people of this land. The peoples of the waters of this land are mine, Vizier. Keep them while I rest. Keep them near the bosom of the lake." Frast was buoyed to the surface, and he swam to the floating village.
He had so many questions, but Mulhudullimillolotodull's answers came on a supernatural schedule, with no regard for Frast's wants. Frast went to his quarters and rested easy, still hearing the rolling voice of his master. Within a week the revelations bubbled to the surface.
Mulhudullimillolotodull's realm was to unify under a new language, one born in the mind of the Deep god, one that could wholly satisfy his need for praise, one that would bear his power to a new high and would allow further expansion upstream, to the source of the river.
The Deep One's lust for power tickled a doubt in the mind of Frast, a brief flicker of flame that was quickly extinguished by the dedication to the Lord of the Lake. Frast didn't even notice the subconscious buckling in the bulwark of his faith, but Mulhudullimillolotodull did. The Deep Lord noted the smoldering doubt and resented, in his own arrogance, the arrogance of the Vizier. Perhaps it was time to test their faith.
Neverwonagame3
Self-Styled Intellectual
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2006
- Messages
- 3,549
OOC: I'm developing this concept as I think of it- since I don't know much about the NES yet, so far it's a bit vague. The location is effectively Schronidger's village. I also made a rather poor attempt to make my style a little more 'mythic'.
Could people tell me how I'm doing so far?
Origins:
"Back in those days neither we nor the Brendak Gang knew tactics- we just formed into lines and charged at each other. But we charged better that day- and we were winning.
Soon cries of victory were coming out from our side- their great warrior Carados was slaying many, but we were many more than even he could take. We knew that all we had to do was last a little longer and slay him, and we would have the victory."
The children sat round the campfire, staring at the disfigured old man. There were uglier things in the world, but they all had trouble looking at him- the only reason they were listening at all was because their parents said they had to.
"So- none of you wish to ask what happens next? It's very interesting. It's how I earned- this."
He pulled up a bit of his sleeve. One of the children looked at it, then fled from the room.
Could people tell me how I'm doing so far?
Origins:
"Back in those days neither we nor the Brendak Gang knew tactics- we just formed into lines and charged at each other. But we charged better that day- and we were winning.
Soon cries of victory were coming out from our side- their great warrior Carados was slaying many, but we were many more than even he could take. We knew that all we had to do was last a little longer and slay him, and we would have the victory."
The children sat round the campfire, staring at the disfigured old man. There were uglier things in the world, but they all had trouble looking at him- the only reason they were listening at all was because their parents said they had to.
"So- none of you wish to ask what happens next? It's very interesting. It's how I earned- this."
He pulled up a bit of his sleeve. One of the children looked at it, then fled from the room.
SKILORD
Insurgent
Trilidys whispers to his vipers, "Go now, tell me of the plots of Neroel, you my precious shall be our eyes."
A city that demonkind cannot step foot inside, Trilidys laughs. Kill the body and the head will die, no city can produce enough food to survive within it's own walls.
A city that demonkind cannot step foot inside, Trilidys laughs. Kill the body and the head will die, no city can produce enough food to survive within it's own walls.
Freemanuncg
Warlord
wellll
Being a demon dosent have to make your ethereal entity evil, I just mean that to be a God the entity would have to exist outside the realm of the world sort of like the Dark Master does and would be less able to interact with your people, where as some real powerful benevolent 'demon' would be more able to interact with your people!
The pact says:
So directly or indirectly, demons can't act against Neroel.
My definition: Demon = evil. Why would gods have to exist outside the world? Most gods existed inside the world (Zeus on a tall mountain, but still the same world as mortals for instance).
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
BLASPHEMER! Mulhudullimillolotodull is the the pinnacle of righteousness in this world. In regards to Spry's post, he's not a god in the context of that post, because he's an elemental entity that wants to be worshiped in response to the perceived tainted nature of the demons in the area. He's not a god or a demon, in my mind. Yeah he's aiming for godhood, but I've tried to avoid using that title very often in my stories. Usually he's the Deep lord or the Depth Roller or one of those other bubbly lake names. So I guess essentially he's not the god that the devil opposes, but the god that opposes the devils. They might not even know he exists. I mean they might think there's just a lake there. All I know is that YOUR COMMENTS REEK OF BLASPHEMY!
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
Reminds me of a certain god of fishes, Anonymoose.
Anonymoose
KING OF MEESE
Inspiration comes from all over. 
Mostly from this cool picture of a water elemental that I saw once, but also from other NESes that we may or may not have played together in the past. 
Mostly from this cool picture of a water elemental that I saw once, but also from other NESes that we may or may not have played together in the past. SKILORD
Insurgent
So I'm not even allowed to HAVE nefarious plots? I didn't think it would be successful, I simply wanted a venue to interact with other characters in a manner that a half demon cult who was just exiled from their ancestral home would....
Pardon me, but what exactly am I supposed to do? Am I permitted to make any moves?
-
Trilidys masturbates and gripes about Demon racism.
Pardon me, but what exactly am I supposed to do? Am I permitted to make any moves?
-
Trilidys masturbates and gripes about Demon racism.
SKILORD
Insurgent
Whether or not Mulhudullimillolotodull is a demon, as an extra-dimensional being not of this plane of existence I consider him party to a more important pact between such beings that they should not fight each other.
And would getting rid of the pact take more than two sentences? Because I'm not inclined to write longer stories when anyone else in the game has the authority to say it "doesn't count." I don't pull that crap on any of your stories.
Oh, for goodness sake. You're completely missing the point again. You're trying to get your revenge. I have told you repeatedly not to. Just stop it.
This NES is a mythological cycle. Ten years have passed. The episode is finished. Can I not make that amply clear? You are not to try to reclaim Neroel as a demon-city or the story will go round in circles. You have your own city to exploit, expand, develop to your heart's content, and you should be trying to make a good story that fits into the genre of myth.
Think about it. This is a story we will pass down to our descendants. We have had the well-known and oft-heard story of the demons fighting the humans, tricking each other, and being expelled. We, our children and our children's children, are now not interested in hearing the same story again and again all the way up to the present day. Do something else now or these children will start wailing at their parents for telling them the same story again and again.
I made that clear in the update, and I hope I don't have to tell you all again.
Right then. There are plenty of things you can do. You can stop trying to tempt what has been amply stated to be a large sea-creature into being a demon (and what possible benefit to the storyline does it have to suppose this sea-creature is a demon?), and you can actually interact positively and in a good storyline with the mermen, Over-the-Lake people, and Mulhudullimillolotodull. Or you can all have a nice war over whether Neroel or Cacrinolle gets control of Midnae. Or you could just take the whole thing as a nice allegory, and say that the whole demon thing is to be understood as nothing but an allegory, but rather represents a good founding myth for Cacrinolle and justifies a future rivalry between two ultimately human cities - and then, if you considered that you are all ultimately human and influenced by demons that are somewhat transcendental, you could interact at will. Or you could think of dozens of other ways to explain and develop your situation.
This NES is a mythological cycle. Ten years have passed. The episode is finished. Can I not make that amply clear? You are not to try to reclaim Neroel as a demon-city or the story will go round in circles. You have your own city to exploit, expand, develop to your heart's content, and you should be trying to make a good story that fits into the genre of myth.
Think about it. This is a story we will pass down to our descendants. We have had the well-known and oft-heard story of the demons fighting the humans, tricking each other, and being expelled. We, our children and our children's children, are now not interested in hearing the same story again and again all the way up to the present day. Do something else now or these children will start wailing at their parents for telling them the same story again and again.
I made that clear in the update, and I hope I don't have to tell you all again.
Right then. There are plenty of things you can do. You can stop trying to tempt what has been amply stated to be a large sea-creature into being a demon (and what possible benefit to the storyline does it have to suppose this sea-creature is a demon?), and you can actually interact positively and in a good storyline with the mermen, Over-the-Lake people, and Mulhudullimillolotodull. Or you can all have a nice war over whether Neroel or Cacrinolle gets control of Midnae. Or you could just take the whole thing as a nice allegory, and say that the whole demon thing is to be understood as nothing but an allegory, but rather represents a good founding myth for Cacrinolle and justifies a future rivalry between two ultimately human cities - and then, if you considered that you are all ultimately human and influenced by demons that are somewhat transcendental, you could interact at will. Or you could think of dozens of other ways to explain and develop your situation.
Freemanuncg
Warlord
My Children.
I stand here at then end of all things, the last of “those who came before,’ to tell you of our great city and how it came to be.
Long ago in the days of yore when men still roamed these plains, before they brought such destruction upon these lands, there was a pact.
Few can say in these long gone days who was at fault but the tale will fill you with wonder.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caacrinolas roared, how had this happened? He, Caacrinolas, the hands and voice of the Dark Master here in the world of men had been tricked.
His mind raced, how to crush these foolish mortals? How to get revenge?
Caacrinolas called out in the language of Demon kind, and the call brought his people to him. In all corners of the world of men was the cry heard, by those children he had made in Lerone, by the wanderers in the waste, by the benevolent entities of the deep. Not all responded, but all heard the call, those who willed it came.
Trilidys’ people were brought to his side there in the wild, the armies of demons bound to Caacrinolas by the war of the Demons streaked to his side, and the air smelled of sulfur and was filled with smoke as other beings appeared all around called forth by the will of Dark Master.
When all were assembled Caacrinolas began to sing to them in the tongue of the Old Ones. Their shadowy hearts were moved by the words of their lord he spoke to them of the past, of wars fought for millennia, and ancient feuds, of the glory of the ancients, and of the beginning of all things. He sang of the injustices they had suffered, to the young and to the old, and he sang of the power of their multitude.
At long last he sang of the will of the Dark Master, and their plans for the future.
And suddenly the air was still, the last ringing notes of the voice of the lord of Demons echoing in the hills. The horde stood with wonder in their eyes, and looked upon the empty ground where their Lord had stood.
---
Down Caacrinolas fell towards hell into the void from which he had originated, from which he had ripped his way so many thousands of years ago. He saw the entire world below him as he fell, mountains and trees and rivers, and from below looking up there were those who saw a streak of light in the night sky flaming and then gone.
Caacrinolas felt the familiar warmth of his home, the realm of the Dark Master, his black wings spread wide, carrying him swiftly to the black city of the Master. His hooves lighted on the stones, black as night and warm with the power of the Master, he knelt before the throne.
There sat the Great One, lord of all, his mighty form was as this: He sat upon a throne of black demon glass or obsidian as it is known today, it was sharp and hard. From him radiated such power that the whole realm was filled with the heat of an inferno. His physical form was not unlike Caacrinolas but several orders of magnitude larger, his color black and as sharp as the throne, cloven hooves, great black wings, eyes which were as bright as the fires of the earth, and one mighty curling horn for the other was snapped off near the base.
Caacrinolas looked up and knew that no words need be spoken the Master knew all that he knew.
The Dark Master reached out his huge claws towards Caacrinolas, Caacrinolas began to change, he grew huge in size his arms, legs, and wings smoothed to his sides his own horns pointed up and grew into one. The Master grasped his spawn Caacrinolas, his own mighty horn, and brought it slowly to his skull.
The Master began to sing, his dark voice making the very fabric of hell vibrate and echo. The stones of the mighty dark city of Cacrinolle began to rise as one the power of the Masters song holding the city together. First slowly, then faster, until the skies of hell were a blur as it flew. Then a roar to match the song of the Master as the city ripped from the dimension of Hell into the howling Void the song continued, and the Void sang back and like lightning they flew.
The city of Cacrinolle ripped through the Void again and settled in the realm of men.
The spires and towers of Cacrinolle took shape in the wild around the horde, the mighty city of the Dark Master, all black and red, shimmering with power. The stones of the city streets were darker than night, the towers were tall and smooth with jagged sharp tops and spires. The doors and roofs were the violent red of fire, a beauty to behold is the mighty city of Cacrinolle. The earth smoked around the city and the air smelled of sulfur. When all was settled an impenetrable darkness enclosed it protecting it from any who might look on.
There around the Master in the mighty throne room stood the legions of Demons gathered by Caacrinolas, Micil’s house imbued with the might of demons, the wanderers, all who had answered Caacrinolas’ call. The mighty Palace of the Throne, a single circular room was so large that all of the Demonic hordes stood easily within.
Only a few moments had passed as the legions stood in shock after the sudden disappearance of Caacrinolas.
As one they roared, dancing, singing praises to the Dark Master lord of Demons.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This my dark children is how our great city of Cacrinolle came to be here in this land.
A Witch, a Demon, and a race of men from these all of our history is born.
Now go children to your rest for soon this world will be ending.
I stand here at then end of all things, the last of “those who came before,’ to tell you of our great city and how it came to be.
Long ago in the days of yore when men still roamed these plains, before they brought such destruction upon these lands, there was a pact.
Few can say in these long gone days who was at fault but the tale will fill you with wonder.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caacrinolas roared, how had this happened? He, Caacrinolas, the hands and voice of the Dark Master here in the world of men had been tricked.
His mind raced, how to crush these foolish mortals? How to get revenge?
Caacrinolas called out in the language of Demon kind, and the call brought his people to him. In all corners of the world of men was the cry heard, by those children he had made in Lerone, by the wanderers in the waste, by the benevolent entities of the deep. Not all responded, but all heard the call, those who willed it came.
Trilidys’ people were brought to his side there in the wild, the armies of demons bound to Caacrinolas by the war of the Demons streaked to his side, and the air smelled of sulfur and was filled with smoke as other beings appeared all around called forth by the will of Dark Master.
When all were assembled Caacrinolas began to sing to them in the tongue of the Old Ones. Their shadowy hearts were moved by the words of their lord he spoke to them of the past, of wars fought for millennia, and ancient feuds, of the glory of the ancients, and of the beginning of all things. He sang of the injustices they had suffered, to the young and to the old, and he sang of the power of their multitude.
At long last he sang of the will of the Dark Master, and their plans for the future.
And suddenly the air was still, the last ringing notes of the voice of the lord of Demons echoing in the hills. The horde stood with wonder in their eyes, and looked upon the empty ground where their Lord had stood.
---
Down Caacrinolas fell towards hell into the void from which he had originated, from which he had ripped his way so many thousands of years ago. He saw the entire world below him as he fell, mountains and trees and rivers, and from below looking up there were those who saw a streak of light in the night sky flaming and then gone.
Caacrinolas felt the familiar warmth of his home, the realm of the Dark Master, his black wings spread wide, carrying him swiftly to the black city of the Master. His hooves lighted on the stones, black as night and warm with the power of the Master, he knelt before the throne.
There sat the Great One, lord of all, his mighty form was as this: He sat upon a throne of black demon glass or obsidian as it is known today, it was sharp and hard. From him radiated such power that the whole realm was filled with the heat of an inferno. His physical form was not unlike Caacrinolas but several orders of magnitude larger, his color black and as sharp as the throne, cloven hooves, great black wings, eyes which were as bright as the fires of the earth, and one mighty curling horn for the other was snapped off near the base.
Caacrinolas looked up and knew that no words need be spoken the Master knew all that he knew.
The Dark Master reached out his huge claws towards Caacrinolas, Caacrinolas began to change, he grew huge in size his arms, legs, and wings smoothed to his sides his own horns pointed up and grew into one. The Master grasped his spawn Caacrinolas, his own mighty horn, and brought it slowly to his skull.
The Master began to sing, his dark voice making the very fabric of hell vibrate and echo. The stones of the mighty dark city of Cacrinolle began to rise as one the power of the Masters song holding the city together. First slowly, then faster, until the skies of hell were a blur as it flew. Then a roar to match the song of the Master as the city ripped from the dimension of Hell into the howling Void the song continued, and the Void sang back and like lightning they flew.
The city of Cacrinolle ripped through the Void again and settled in the realm of men.
The spires and towers of Cacrinolle took shape in the wild around the horde, the mighty city of the Dark Master, all black and red, shimmering with power. The stones of the city streets were darker than night, the towers were tall and smooth with jagged sharp tops and spires. The doors and roofs were the violent red of fire, a beauty to behold is the mighty city of Cacrinolle. The earth smoked around the city and the air smelled of sulfur. When all was settled an impenetrable darkness enclosed it protecting it from any who might look on.
There around the Master in the mighty throne room stood the legions of Demons gathered by Caacrinolas, Micil’s house imbued with the might of demons, the wanderers, all who had answered Caacrinolas’ call. The mighty Palace of the Throne, a single circular room was so large that all of the Demonic hordes stood easily within.
Only a few moments had passed as the legions stood in shock after the sudden disappearance of Caacrinolas.
As one they roared, dancing, singing praises to the Dark Master lord of Demons.
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This my dark children is how our great city of Cacrinolle came to be here in this land.
A Witch, a Demon, and a race of men from these all of our history is born.
Now go children to your rest for soon this world will be ending.
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