{ after years of buildup, from the day Inu first start to ramble, through mysteries, thieves, Ophidian wars and the rise of the Shadowlords themselves, the arc of the Warriors of Destiny has been casting its shadow across our land; it would appear perhaps that with uncovering of the Great Stygian Abyss almost upon us, this long arc is finally nearing its conclusion }
The crystalline rim at the summit of the wooden watchtower tower rose glittered amongst the snow-covered peaks in the quiet mountains of Malas. The old steps rising over the earthen rampart were still carefully lined with roses, but wild gardens and twisted trunks of cyprus trees now rose from what had once been training grounds for Sergonar's students. Built at the height of the ophidian war, the tower was now run down with only the barest maintenance. But within its arches, a teleporter still granted those who knew its password access to the earthen fort's old forges and armory.
Within the earthy chamber below now gathered the Myth and Peace Lords. Landless save for a few small homesteads, they were honorary lords in title, but not true nobility of kingdom. As society they were loyal to a fault to the throne they served. But now they gathered in the gravest of many worried meeting of the overs, the first time they had all assembled in one place since the last of their number achieved their title.
There were no longer bowed heads here, for each former apprentices was now a lord of their own fate. Each member had earned their own titles, their own place of honor for deeds great and small defying the growing power of the shadowlords. Lord Dill Sergonar, one of the six who carried their mentor's name had only recently returned from facing the merciless rampage of ronin threating Zento after overrunning the monestary where his mentor had trained. Lord Amber Salthook, mixing the carpentry skills of the old craftsman who had trained him and the music of Maplestone, had just finished arming an orchestra worth of bards to counter the hate of the Shadowlords and do his small part to restore the peaceful reputation of his elven race trainted by Casca's ruthless rule. Lord Voidwalker entered last dressed in deepest black. Strong willed and as fiercely good as a paladin in his heart, he carefully and cautiously walked the darkest paths of necromancy to help bring the truth to light.
Four and twenty strong, they gathered, but in the end, it feel upon the high council to speak.
Lord Sergonar was the first to step forward into the circle amongst the six members of the high council. Looking old and gray and past his prime beside younger, stronger students, he wore a low-order's paladin's tunic in honor of fallen defenders he had stood watch with in Trinsic when the shadowlords had struck. "I was not born in these lands", he announced in often-spoken words with practiced, almost ritual intonation. "But I have sworn my loyalty to the throne and to the ideals it serves. By blood and tyranny, we now see proven what many have long suspected: that the throne and the ideals are in conflict." With this solemn surrender of his long-held defense of King Casca, he bowed his head and returned to his place in the circle.
Lord Salthook stepped forward next, bearded, with a blacksmith's shoulders and a tailor's hands. Having tutored every craftsman amongst their number and still spent his days tinkering away in the back of his hall of forges and studying ancient arms and armor. He held a sword before him. "The weapons of the royal guard are no different than the weapons of the generals of the shadowlords", he announced. No debate of this fact was needed.
Lord Woodwalker now stepped forward, a wizard who wore his age more lightly, stepped slowly and deliberately forward before his friends and former apprentices. "The document recovered from the woodland taxation does indeed bear the seal of the shadowlords. There is no doubt that our King is in correspondence with our darkest enemies and that his virtueless decrees are influenced, if not written, by their will."
Lord Maplestone now took his turn, still fresh from skirmishing the unholy forces that lay siege against Luna. "Before our arrival in these lands, there was caretaker of the throne named Dawn who had retired to a life of humility before this crisis. Having now witnessed her valor and her compassion, I now understand the reverence with which her name has long been spoken. Shadows of the shadowlords themselves fought alongside Casca in a failed attempt to break her will. In her light, Casca's darkness is laid plain before us."
Lord Tempest came next, an ageless-looking elf of the high council who faded from sight every time he crossed a shadow. But now he moved clearly into the circle and addressed the men and elves assembled. "There is no place for pride. We were on the wrong side of this. From a fearless mouse to a samurai city, there has already been wide resistance to Casca. We did not join them. We were wrong. We will join them now."
Lord Eternos was the last of the high council to speak, an elf who long walked amongst both birds and dragons. "The crimson dragons called out of unknown realms against us have brought out their own powerful enemies to our side. The platinum dragons are creatures of such exceptional power and grace that their aid radically rebalances the sides and presents us with an opporutunity to take the initiative instead of waiting for our enemies' next move. There are many groups large and small that now rally to Dawn's side, groups large and small, allies, rivals, even old enemies willing to turn upon each other. We must not give the shadowlords time to frighten us, confuse us or divide us. This grand alliance must make its move and force an ending to these shadows once and for all."
The crystalline rim at the summit of the wooden watchtower tower rose glittered amongst the snow-covered peaks in the quiet mountains of Malas. The old steps rising over the earthen rampart were still carefully lined with roses, but wild gardens and twisted trunks of cyprus trees now rose from what had once been training grounds for Sergonar's students. Built at the height of the ophidian war, the tower was now run down with only the barest maintenance. But within its arches, a teleporter still granted those who knew its password access to the earthen fort's old forges and armory.
Within the earthy chamber below now gathered the Myth and Peace Lords. Landless save for a few small homesteads, they were honorary lords in title, but not true nobility of kingdom. As society they were loyal to a fault to the throne they served. But now they gathered in the gravest of many worried meeting of the overs, the first time they had all assembled in one place since the last of their number achieved their title.
There were no longer bowed heads here, for each former apprentices was now a lord of their own fate. Each member had earned their own titles, their own place of honor for deeds great and small defying the growing power of the shadowlords. Lord Dill Sergonar, one of the six who carried their mentor's name had only recently returned from facing the merciless rampage of ronin threating Zento after overrunning the monestary where his mentor had trained. Lord Amber Salthook, mixing the carpentry skills of the old craftsman who had trained him and the music of Maplestone, had just finished arming an orchestra worth of bards to counter the hate of the Shadowlords and do his small part to restore the peaceful reputation of his elven race trainted by Casca's ruthless rule. Lord Voidwalker entered last dressed in deepest black. Strong willed and as fiercely good as a paladin in his heart, he carefully and cautiously walked the darkest paths of necromancy to help bring the truth to light.
Four and twenty strong, they gathered, but in the end, it feel upon the high council to speak.
Lord Sergonar was the first to step forward into the circle amongst the six members of the high council. Looking old and gray and past his prime beside younger, stronger students, he wore a low-order's paladin's tunic in honor of fallen defenders he had stood watch with in Trinsic when the shadowlords had struck. "I was not born in these lands", he announced in often-spoken words with practiced, almost ritual intonation. "But I have sworn my loyalty to the throne and to the ideals it serves. By blood and tyranny, we now see proven what many have long suspected: that the throne and the ideals are in conflict." With this solemn surrender of his long-held defense of King Casca, he bowed his head and returned to his place in the circle.
Lord Salthook stepped forward next, bearded, with a blacksmith's shoulders and a tailor's hands. Having tutored every craftsman amongst their number and still spent his days tinkering away in the back of his hall of forges and studying ancient arms and armor. He held a sword before him. "The weapons of the royal guard are no different than the weapons of the generals of the shadowlords", he announced. No debate of this fact was needed.
Lord Woodwalker now stepped forward, a wizard who wore his age more lightly, stepped slowly and deliberately forward before his friends and former apprentices. "The document recovered from the woodland taxation does indeed bear the seal of the shadowlords. There is no doubt that our King is in correspondence with our darkest enemies and that his virtueless decrees are influenced, if not written, by their will."
Lord Maplestone now took his turn, still fresh from skirmishing the unholy forces that lay siege against Luna. "Before our arrival in these lands, there was caretaker of the throne named Dawn who had retired to a life of humility before this crisis. Having now witnessed her valor and her compassion, I now understand the reverence with which her name has long been spoken. Shadows of the shadowlords themselves fought alongside Casca in a failed attempt to break her will. In her light, Casca's darkness is laid plain before us."
Lord Tempest came next, an ageless-looking elf of the high council who faded from sight every time he crossed a shadow. But now he moved clearly into the circle and addressed the men and elves assembled. "There is no place for pride. We were on the wrong side of this. From a fearless mouse to a samurai city, there has already been wide resistance to Casca. We did not join them. We were wrong. We will join them now."
Lord Eternos was the last of the high council to speak, an elf who long walked amongst both birds and dragons. "The crimson dragons called out of unknown realms against us have brought out their own powerful enemies to our side. The platinum dragons are creatures of such exceptional power and grace that their aid radically rebalances the sides and presents us with an opporutunity to take the initiative instead of waiting for our enemies' next move. There are many groups large and small that now rally to Dawn's side, groups large and small, allies, rivals, even old enemies willing to turn upon each other. We must not give the shadowlords time to frighten us, confuse us or divide us. This grand alliance must make its move and force an ending to these shadows once and for all."
