The Suggestion Site
Would you like to react to this message? Create an account in a few clicks or log in to continue.

Afterthought Chronicle

Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Fri Mar 16, 2012 10:38 am

Long ago, they say, the Gods ruled a world of peace, justice, and prosperity. One wonders if all that is merely propaganda. They have abused us, exploited us, and taunted us. We rise up now, the banners of the Nullity raised high. Let the Creators see the symbol of the destroyer and tremble. We shall unleash his rage and drive back the oppressors. The Gods shall fall.

-Fragment of Ancient Document from the Era of Rebellion


May it that made the gods forgive us. We have brought doom upon this world. He was always waiting, the ancient grudge never forgotten. He brought the Null vortex to us and unleashed it upon the Gods' creation that we might tear our own world to shreds. The Lords of the high families ride forth now that the deception is revealed. The mistweavers of Dragos and Caloren, the Lordmages of WestHaven and Finnport, The Bastion princes lead the men of the Pillars. The souls of the dying wash over us, torment us and twist us. We make one last charge for our own salvation. Pray for us, souls to be born, that ye may have voices.

-Scroll Kept in the Chambers of the Lord Westhaver from the Era of Sorrow
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Fri Mar 16, 2012 11:45 am

From the Libraries of the Lord Westhaver:

So far as we can tell, the gods ruled in peace and harmony from nearly ten millennia before present day, until roughly three thousand years ago. At that time, it is believed, corruption began to spread among the godly rulers of humanity. Tales from those days tell of the sorrow and pain endured beneath cruel supernatural oppressor kings. The stories are clear that the lands of the West Haven were always ruled by benign kings, but they saw more and more of the land around fall under the hands of capricious dread gods.

Then, nearly fifteen hundred years ago, we find records describing encounters with a mysterious figure known only as the Null Mage. Most notable among these was the meeting of the powerful Dragoric steward Emerick with the null mage in the dreadful Urtang, the tower-fortress of the most cruel of all the gods: Tarshang. The Null Mage revealed to mankind an ancient force born at the moment of Worldforge, a force in direct opposition to all existence: the Nullity.

Led by the powerful Lords Dragoric, mankind began open rebellion. The Urtang fell first. Tarshang and his hosts were destroyed utterly in the opening strokes of the war as nineteen Dragoric Nullmages destroyed him with fell blades of destruction incarnate.

Other gods fell, the lands were rent apart. To the west of what we now call the Imperium, the war was bloody and brutal. Gods fell in the hundreds in the lands and waters now known as the dying ground. Even now their corpses lie there, disintegrating. Their magical essence, freed from heavenly structure, flows rampant, warping existence. That is mist.

After nearly four centuries of war, the God of West Haven summoned the gods to the west and issued the Edict of Peace. But it was at this time, with gods and men weak from war, that the Null Mage returned. He revealed himself as an entity from before creation, the first work of the Worldforger. He came to destroy his master's work. Records are sketchy, but the epics tell us that the Lords of Men rode forward, bloodline new and ancient, leading a great host.

It is here that Milos Westhaver awoke with his disciples and ascended into Darkness. Here did Lady Alarin Dragoric become the first Empty mage and that mankind first learned the Cant of Man. On that plane was forged the Compact of the Colossus, where men bound spells to oaths of allegiance and the Imperial host fought. Here did mankind win once more.

For the last nine hundred years we have lived and fought, loved and died under the Compact. We watch as the world limps on, the wonders of what once was crumbling. And we wait. For he was not destroyed, and some among the Gods still thirst for revenge. We wait
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Sat Mar 17, 2012 5:33 am

Selected Excerpts From the Imperial Registry of Houses:

WESTHAVER:

House Westhaver, centered in Westhaven, is one of the two houses, the other being House Dragoric, whose head of house is a hereditary Imperial Sibling. The upper council of the house, and the close family of the head, are, as is to be expected, granted the title of Imperial First Cousin by default. Also, as with the Dragoric clan, one seat on the imperial council is reserved for this house, and whosoever holds it is granted the rank of Imperial Sibling...

House Westhaver is the only major bloodline that never rose in rebellion against its own godking. Large ships from Westhaven still cross the Misty Seas to visit the deep Dying Grounds. Those who chose to return to their house after such voyages are notable for their incredible magical talent, and a deep melancholy...

FINNDRAKE:

It's head an Imperial Cousin, the first Finndrake was a distant relative of Milos Westhaver, and the houses still maintain strong bonds of marriage. Some Finndrakes have even been permitted aboard the clanships to the Deep Dying grounds. The Finndrakes are the only major inland house, and rule the city of the Silverspine on the coast of the Mistbasin...

DRAGORIC:

The Dragoric clan is equalled only by the Westhavers in terms of sheer might under the imperial system. Their seat of power is the massiver fortress known as the Urtang that they won from the dead hands of the dread god Tarshang. The Urtang is perhaps the single most powerful magical artfact in existence, capable of exerting control over unparallelled amounts of Mist...

Like the Westhavers, the Dragorics do not seem to operate by a purely bloodline based system. A large and powerfully magical clan, they maintain the power of their bloodline by directly drawing upon the concentrated magic of Urtang and infusing it into their own blood...

Dragorics are the most capable of all Nullmages, and the first. They worship the Nullity and many bear the hallmark madness of null magic. ..


BASTION:

The third great house, the Bastions are the only major noble bloodline that do not pay respects the Imperial Throne. The Princes of the bastion line rule the great mercenary cities of the Ghessir mountains. They are wealthier than the Imperial family, and the only attempt by an emperor to ever bring them into line ended in the utter destruction of four entire Imperial legions...

Bastion blood is especially impervious to magic, and fairly adept at the Cant of Man...

The three most powerful Bastion Princes are: The Iron Prince, The Lord of the Blue Fleet, and The Prince of Beasts...


CALOREN: A cousin family like the Finndrakes, the Calorens maintain most of the guard on the Bastion cliffs. Formed by intermarriage between the Bastion and Dragoric clans, nearly three hundred years ago they produced a Darkness, cementing their place as a great noble bloodline. Calorens are notable for being almost totally impervious to Mistwarp.



Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Tue Mar 20, 2012 8:30 am

A Rough History of Petras's War (circa 915 OSM)
From the Library of the Bastion of Silversteel in the Iron City

In year 784 OSM (Of Selthin's Might), the Caloren clan produced its first darkness, and became the fifth family raised into the upper circle of imperial might. At the time, the Bastionlands and the Havenlands were still autonomous subsidiaries of the empire under the rule of the Bastion and Westhaver princes. Unlike the present day, the Dragoric lands were not yet an autonomous region.

With the rise of the Caloren family, the closely related Dragorics began to gain in power. The Caloren bloodline had powerful immunity to mist magic and so the Caloren darkness added a large array of spells the Urtang, in return for which the Dragorics pushed to have him added to the Imperial Brethren as Lord Cantor of Selthin.

At about the same time, coinciding with the notable rise in the prestige of the Dragorics, the daughter of Brother Amolar Dragoric was betrothed to Crown Prince Petras. Only four years later, the Emperor fell deathly sick, and the Imperial Brethren were summoned to the capital.

NOTE: A thorough investigation of the circumstances, found under the title "The Death of Emperor Lorin Colossus" has resolved that the Emperor was infact given some sort of null magic poison purchased from a tribe of the Hive by agents of a highly placed noble near to the Lord Dragoric.

With the Emperor on his deathbed, the Brethren Council decided, despite the objections of the Dragorics, to appoint a regent until Petras was fit to rule, and to begin the proceedings of a test of fitness, that they might determine whether to hand the reins to a more suitable relative. (Note: from testimony at the time, Petras had always been a fairly unstable child.)

Unfortunately, the Crown Prince was alerted by the Dragorics to this peril and was ready to act at the instant his father died. Not five seconds had gone by after an imperial doctor certified the death, when Emperor Petras ordered the guards to seize five members of the Brethren Council: Prince Holan Westhaver, Brother Folion Westhaver, Prince Godric Bastion, Brother Tangar Bastion, and Archmage Tovalion Finndrake of Selthin; and had them executed on the spot on charges of imperial treason. Obviously, under the authority granted the emperor by the Imperial Matrix, and the blood-oaths sworn by all members of the Imperial Army, disobedience was physically impossible.
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Wed Mar 21, 2012 7:39 am

A Brief History of Petras's War continued.

A week after the execution of the Brethren and the coronation of the New emperor, two legions of the imperial army were dispatched to Westhaven. Moving rapidly ahead of them, couriers brought orders signed in the emperor's own blood to the general of the Haven Legion, the branch of the imperial army based in Westhaven.

The couriers arrived only a week after leaving Selthin, and thus would begin the battle of Westhaven. In the streets, the Haven Guard, sworn only to the Westhavers, were embroiled in bloody combat with the the legionaries. Many elders of the family fled on their greatships to the dying lands to seek shelter with the last of the gods. Others scattered, minor branches of the family fleeing. Violence intensified, Haven Guards began to fall even faster, and the areas of the city under Westhaver control shrunk by the hour.

Then, arriving from the Silverspine Tower came the youngest and powerful mages of West Haven. Joining forces with the young lords leading the defence, they managed to regain control of the city, and shatter the Haven Legion. The twenty highest ranking lords, among them four children of the late Prince, and three of the Brother Chancellor, declared war on Selthin. Young, rash, and untempered by the Sorrow of Westhaven (for none had yet been permitted to go to the dying lands) they are now known as the "Bloody Twenty"

Riding from Westhaven before the legions arrived, they cut a bloody swath of fire and death through the heartlands of the empire. Men, women and children were given a choice: swear blood-oaths to Westhaven, or be killed. Seven of them rode to the Urtang, raising nearly forty towns in the lands of Dragoric. On the plains surrounding the Urtang, the Prince of the Dragoric met all seven in open combat and killed them.

The other thirteen would make their way all the way to the plains of Selthin, where they met the Emperor himself at the head of a host of the Imperial guard. Dragoric and Colossus mages managed to kill all but one of them, a Darkness named Voltarin Westhaver, the heir to the Lordship. Voltarin escaped only after personally beheading the young emperor.

With the fall of Petras, his calmer sister, Leonas, betrothed to a Bastion lord, was raised Empress. She sent couriers to all her legions, recalling them to Selthin, but they would not reach the southern campaign in time.

In the south, another pair of Imperial Legions from Selthin had joined the one dispatched from the Urtang under the command of the Dragoric princes. They were under orders to bring the Bastionlands to heel. The tale of that brief attempt is told in a scroll by Rallak Degorn, the highest ranking mage in the Iron city at the time.


An Account of the Battle of the Vale
Rallak Degorn

The air is heavy. A slight tinge of fear is first, for all can see the boiling cloud of mist that even now creeps through the entry of the vale. Stronger than that though, boiling beneath the surface, is a cold rage.

I watched all unfold from a high cliff at the farthest end of the vale. Just to my left, in ornate furs and leathers, was the Prince of the Hive, Thalgar Bastion. He stood on the back of a huge beast, the Queen of thorns, her draconic body covered from head to tail in spikes. The rulers of the hive, eldest of the Bastion bloodlines, though not the strongest, they looked on with cold detachment.

Behind them, looming above all, sat another dragon. The Shadow queen. She who was the second worshipper of the Nullity, after only Emerick Dragoric, and by far the most powerful. She whose court ruled the hive unchallenged for millenia, whose null spells killed seven god-kings. Now, her court dead and only a few daughters alive, she has surrendered rule to the Queen of Thorns, but in a battle between the two of them, the Shadow queen would shatter the thorns. Her form, once sinuous, is rent by the scars of those ancient battles, where wing once stood sit ruined stumps. She is armored in molten silversteel, kept under perfect control by her dread magics. Atop her back stood the Silversteel Bastion, Lord of the Iron City, Prince of the youngest and mightiest Bastion Line. He is a mage of dreadful power, and all know it.

As we watch, the mist fills the vale, the clank of three Legions' boots fill the air. Then the sounds begin to quiet, unease settling on the legions. They expected resistance.

"Resistance they wish, resistance they will get." Boomed the voice of the shadow queen. "We move now." Her hind legs pushed against the ground behind her and she sprung into the air, sliding through it weightlessly. A feat of null magic that would kill any man, to destroy the very pull of earth as it grasps at you. A rush of air nearly knocked me over as the Thorn queen's wing launched her into the air.

Round the vale, from ledges and clefts and caves, the Dragons of the hive rose in the air. From valleys and tunnels on the slopes poured the might of the Iron City. Hundred of thousands of armour clad men and women. Rust mages in their scraping red armour. Flesh weavers and bone cantors of the hive. The Lords of the Silversteel council, myself included, take to the air on the backs of the Shadow Queen's last daughters.

Then the drums begin to beat. They boom through the mountains. And with the noise come the magic. Null magic and blood magic and godly magic woven together in a single thread. I feel it flow through me and into the Silversteel Bastion and his mount. She drifts lazily across the sky towards the entry, seeming unconcerned. Yet I can feel the spells welling from the mist below. The Dragorics and the Imperials have cast their might at us, and now they see its effect.

The Queen reached the entry and turned about. The Prince upon her back cast a spell and his vocie echoed through the bowl of the mountains. "You come against us as if you were conquerors, absolute lords. We have heard what you wrought in Westhaven, the destruction of the most ancient family upon this world. Bring this message and nothing else back to your emperor: We shall no longer bend knee to him even in ceremony. We are done with the empire."

With that last word the queens expelled their fiery breath, but burnign flames did not emerge, instead dark flames of null energy came down that burned away all spells. The huge body of mist sent from the Urtang was annihilate. The magic of the matrix , which flowed through this vale into all the Bastionlands was burned away, Imperial battlemages found themselves bereft of spells entirely.

Then fell the blades of the Iron men. The legion shattered, but could not disperse. The entrances were closed by rank upon rank of Iron clad warriors. Where men knelt, their oaths were burned away, and they were taken as captives, to be released later. The lords Dragoric were bound hand and foot. The shadow queen herself descended and burned the magic from their blood. Though it could be repleneshed at the Urtang, the humiliation would live with them forever, and the repleneshment might well kill them. Finally, she cast a spell even more impressive than that which held her aloft. She nullified the distance between the vale and Selthin, ripping a portal in the fabric of reality, and cast them through. "The war is over. Let them sue for piece with the Admiral."

With that, the war came to a swift close. The new empress granted freedom to the Bastionlands, and was forced to kneel before the Admiral of the Blue fleet, the third of the mighty Bastion princes, whose ships had just crushed the Imperial navy. In the northwest, the Finndrakes sued for peace and were granted the seat of Westhaven and the privileges of the old family. The Dragorics were given an autonomous province, and the Empire limped on.
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Wed Apr 25, 2012 6:45 am

Selthin, Year 1471 OSM, Current Day

Some say that a land with no king is a solemn one. If that is true, then the land with no emperor is a sad one indeed. Or at least, that is the face that such a land must present. Lord Executor Oritin Thelvar was certain that few of the ash-faced commoners pushing against his cadre of guards truly bemoaned the death of the emperor. But all knew that there were some among the lords of the city who might not look kindly on a powerless peasant not showing the proper graces. And so, as a sign of it's morning, Selthin was adorned in black. Black pennants flew from the towers, black curtains draped the windows, black ashes smeared the faces of all those who were not noble.

But there were other implications of a dead king than sorrow. Not three weeks ago the riders had gone out to all the Principal Capitals. To Westhaven, to Finnport, to the Urtang and the Calorhold, and of course to Karjaad in the far east. At the same time, the lords of the Colossus clan had gathered in the city, all in long robes of dreary black.

It was from a gathering of these auspicious lords of the Imperial household that the Lord Executor came. Beneath his arm were carefully written scrolls detailing the leanings of every lord of the clan, and most importantly, a list of the major candidates for the throne. Theoretically, the clan would vote, and choose its new lord, who would be crowned emperor by right of blood. In reality, ever since the great humiliation of Petras's War, the Colossus clan had not even had a representative on the supreme council when they voted to elect an emperor.
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Thu Jul 12, 2012 2:48 pm

Okay. Bit of a rework of all this.

Historical events, in order, years not yet locked in.

Gods form as a pattern in the ethers of the primordial magicks.
These Gods, later known as godkings, forge other gods from other aspects of the central pattern of order.
The gods together form the world and the first humans, the noble Clan Vasya.
The gods form the Forerunners as their lieutenants and servants.
The gods form mankind.
Noble houses emerge from the branches of the Vasya bloodline.
In the southern and western highlands, the Null Mage approaches Emerick Dragoric and the Shadow Queen.
The Shadow Queen and her dragons rise up with the aid of the mountain tribes, destroying the godking Castillus with null magic.
The Dragoric's rise up and kill Tarshangar, taking the Urtang for themselves.
Rebellion spreads, until the only kings left are the Lord of the Havens, most ancient and noble of the gods, who has not entered the war at all. The Lord Duaran, the most visibly and teribly powerful of the gods, who has not actively attacked man, but has slaughtered his own people for fun in the past, and has allowed 5 minor godkings to take sanctuary in his own fortress, Berenai. The only other king left is the Sunlit Lord, who is so detached from mankind that none know much about him.
After finishing their respective campaigns, the armies of the Vasyas approach Berenai from the east, Dragoric from the west, and the Dragontribes from the south. The Westhaver armies of the north have supposedly been "dealing with" the Lord of the Havens, but none know what that means, and they have not arrived as planned.

The Battle of Berenai begins. The greatest mages of the world, wielding Null Magic in full strength alongside godly magic ripped from the souls of the dead kings, assault Duaran and his five allies. The battle is waged for three days, the armies of mankind slowly faltering and failing. On the third day, Duaran and his allies, though confident of victory, have been stripped of their defensive guards and engage in direct combat with the human mages. As Duaran strikes down the head of house Vasya, the last known living member of the house at that time, the trumpets of the Lord of the Havens sound from the north. A huge host of Forerunners, Gods, and the Havenlord himself approach in the skies, as mankind despairs, Duaran prepares a final bolt that will kill the Lord Dragoric and the Shadowqueen. As he laughs and raises his arm, the trumpets of the Havenlord play the theme of house westhaver. The havenlord interposes himself, instantly deflecting Duaran's spell before incapacitating two of his allies in a single blow. Emerick Dragoric, Riding the shadowqueen, hurls a spear of pure shadowmagic into Duaran's Chest, ending the war of the Great Rebellion.

As Duaran dies, the three remaining gods who sheltered with him recant their allegiance to the order of the world, and become the dark champions of nullity itself. The Nullwar follows, destroying many of the remaining "noble gods", the sunlit lord enters the fray in the east, and manages to put down the rebellion there before withdrawing. In the west, mankind finally manages to put it down at great loss. The gods flee west.
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Mon Jul 16, 2012 6:20 am

Erik Drakon
Importance: Protagonist
Appearance: He is tall, lanky and dark haired like most Dragorics, although he is far more muscular than the average member of the extended clan. Large burn scars cover much of his body, coiling even up to his left cheek.
Family background: He is the grandson of the late Lord Telekar d'Dragoric (if not yet mentioned, the d'___ is reserved for seated and deceased lords of a clan). His father, Emerai, was groomed for the throne, but while leading a mission into the deep mistlands he fell in love with a wild woman. Three years later he returned to the Urtang with a fatal wound, horrible burns, and his young bastard son, only to find his younger brother, Lord Vicaros d'Dragoric had ascended to the head of the clan in his absence.
Erik's mother was a tribal chieftainess in the deep mistlands. According to tradition she is descended from "Rusted Blade," an ancient hero of the mistlands who fell into the tribe's territories from the skies in the times of tumult. (In reality, this story is almost enitrely true, "Rusted Blade" was a well known prince of the Vasya clan who was presumed killed by the detonation of his brother's Godsbane during an assault on of the western godkings.)

Role in the story: Erik Drakon is not a classical hero. His story is one of a mind slowly destroyed by hatred. As he rises to popularity among the Dragoric mistriders, his uncle sends him off to Berenai to study among the nullmages. Here he meets his "love interest", the Lady Elessa Kolossi, heir to the throne of the Fourth Empire. When their love is discovered by her visiting father, Erik is again displaced, banished into the Eastlands. Here he rises among the dread bandits known as the Nightriders, a group of warriors sworn to the independent citystate of Esshos. It is during this time that he attains the rank of Empty One, a full adept of Null Magic, capable of warping his body as he sees fit.

When he rises to command of the Nightriders under the pseudonym "Lord Shadowfall", he enters Esshos and faces the high council, a group of eight Forerunners who have ruled the city since it's founding. It is here that he discovers that his mother is actually a direct descendant of the Vasyas, a line of noble human blood long thought dead and gone, who were the first creations of the gods, and the sworn regents upon this plane of the gods. The Forerunners, servants of the gods by design, recognize him and are compelled to serve him.

Deploying the magical powers of the council, he leads the armies of Esshos into the eastern plains , where he subdues a number of city-states that have declared independence form the empire. He arrives in the Eastern capital of Karjaad and reunifies the Compactium of the east, the assembly of citystates and nations that have developed after the empire's reach was diminished. Riding west, he arrives at the Imperial capital of Selthin in his new face, bringing news of a reunified compact and the entry of Esshos into the Compactim as an imperial vassal.

The new face of Erik becomes a favored suitor for the princess Elessa, his old love.
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Mon Jul 16, 2012 10:25 am

Within the imperial chamber, Lord Shadowfall found only silence. Only a few years past, the man lying before him had been a towering presence, his words rumbling with regal thunder. Now he lay sprawled beneath the coverlets, his white hair wild and scraggly, his flesh like a frozen river flowing off his bones. "Leave us," said Shadowfall softly, "I must speak to my betrothed's father alone."

"We cannot leave him alone in this state--"

"Obey the man," said the emperor weakly, in not much more than a whisper. Once they had left he lifted himself up slightly. "What is it you want? Advice on how to deal with my daughter? I cannot help you there." He smiled.

Shadowfall looked down on the old man. "How the times have changed all things. Once you cast me out of your empire for daring to desire what you held most dear. And now you beg me to protect the same. Well, at least I will be happy to oblige you that much." His flesh rippled, the scars and burns returning, the lanky frame, the Dragoric features.

"The bastard boy?"

"Spare me the names Kolossin, I am a bastard only under the aegis of this age's church. Drogos, attend me." The forerunner materialized. " What is my name?"

The Forerunner looked up, a thin smile on his lips as he saw the bewilderment on the emperor's face. "You are the most noble Lord Erik d'Vasya, rightful lord of all that live beneath the gods."
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Mon Jul 16, 2012 11:41 am

In name, the Fourth Great Empire is ruled by the Emperor. In practice, it is ruled by the Supreme Council. The supreme council has three members.

-The Lord Executor: charged with the execution of all imperial executive duties. In the beginning of the empire, most emperors were the executor, but as time wore on, it became standard to abdicate it to a chosen lord of the court. After the Great Humiliation, the emperor was no longer allowed to make the choice, and instead executors were handpicked by their predecessors or the other two members of the council.
-The Lord Magistrate of Berenai, and Lordpriest of the High Holies: In the years leading up to the Great Humiliation, the conclave of the High Holies and the tower of the mages slowly consolidated forces. When Petras's younger sister asked for aid repairing the imperial Maegis, the priesthood and the mages stood together in demanding she cave to the conditions of the council. Now the Lordpriest is the supreme magical and mystical authority in the realm.
-The Lord Warden of the East: at the instant that the western Empire turned against itself at the orders of Petras, the eastern region, a smattering of city-states held in check by sheer imperial might, shattered. dozens of states declared independence. In a stroke of brilliance however, one of the most powerful lords in the region allied his troops to the remaining imperial troops and quickly crushed the vast majority of the rebellions, cementing a compact in the east. He named himself first Warden of the East, a title given to the most politically powerful warlord in the east by vote of the Compactium Council.
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Thu Jul 26, 2012 12:57 pm

The Builders, or more properly the Craftsmen, are a non-human species concentrated around ancient godly structures and gatherings of mist. A builder's natural form is about 5 feet tall, with gangly limbs. their shoulders are surrounded by this tufts of fur, and a thing crest runs along a bone ridge arcing over the center of their skulles. their jaws are less prominent than humans, they have long fingers, the index fingers tipped with extraordinarily hard claws.

Builders are reknowned for creating marvelous "avatars" from clay, stone, and their own blood. A builder may slip in an out of his or her avatar at will. A properly preserved avatar will survive almost indefinitely, but it can only survive three months at the most of continued use. A builder's body can also survived indefinitely absent plague or violence, but each use of an avatar will consume part of their life force, proportional to the complexity and size of the avatar.

Builder colonies are generally ruled by and protected by a council of extremely old builders who have never used avatars. These leaders prepare huge and powerful avatars so great as to consume their life force in one use, they are the last defense of any builder clan.

Dragoric mages have discovered that magical condensate, the pure form of mist, may be used to dramatically reduce the draining effects of avatar use, and to prepare much longer lasting avatars. In return for these services, the Dragorics extract labor from the Builders, using them to maintain the vast Dragoric mist infrastructure.
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Dark Avorian Thu Aug 02, 2012 1:29 pm

Dragoric – The Lords and Their Lands

The Dragorics, one of the most powerful, ancient and noble clans, are a looming figure in the history of the world. Their principality, established with the founding of the Vasya empire at the moment of Godsfall, but arguably extant since the days of the Gods, is easily the longest lasting and most stable of all the lands of the realm. Even as their power has waxed and waned they have maintained a constant position as one of the foremost families in the realm.

Rough History (Dates not given)

-Emerick Dragoric approached by the Null Mage.
-Emerick and his family overthrow Tarshangar in one of the opening blows of the great rebellion
-The lands of Shangara are granted to the Dragorics in perpetuity along with a principality and Imperial brotherhood by the first Vasya Emperor.
-From the capital in Karjaad, the Great Forerunner Empire rises. The Dragorics arrange the assassination of the Vasya princes, shattering the Vasya Empire.
-The Dragoric Mages, in coordination with Builders contracted from the forerunners, complete repairs and modifications on the Urtang, and most of the rest of the infrastructure is laid down.
-The Null War begins
-Dragoric mistmagic is used across the empire as humanity slowly wins the Null War.
-Lesser Houses of the Berenai nobility form the Haragolius Imperium, Dragoric, Bastion and Westhaver Principalities are semi-autonomous provinces.
-House Dragoric manipulates the priesthoods and has the Haragolius Emperor burned at the stake as a heretic. Dragoric forces wielding mist magic sweep through the central Empire, and out into the east, pacifying all lands save the Esshosian plains and the Sunlit lands.
-Emperor Petras d’Dragoric nearly destroys the realm by attacking the still semi-autonomous Westhaver and Bastion principalities.
-His younger sister is anointed in Selthin under the name of her father’s clan as Elessa d’Kolossin, ushering in the empire of the Colossus.
Dark Avorian
Dark Avorian
Templar
Templar

Number of posts : 3550
Age : 30
Location : Within the hallowed halls of the mighty, those known only as nobles.

Back to top Go down

Afterthought Chronicle Empty Re: Afterthought Chronicle

Post by Sponsored content


Sponsored content


Back to top Go down

Back to top

- Similar topics

 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum