Post by shadowknight on Mar 14, 2016 18:39:38 GMT
A vast emptiness stretches out in all directions as dark as black velvet and silent as a grave. "It is said that magic first came from the gods." A voice echoed through the darkness, it's tone was both masculine and feminine, it's words swirled through the blackness like liquid midnight forming images with their passing that shown like golden figures painted on an obsidian canvas. "it was a tool used to create and heal," the voice continued, the golden image shifted to portray a visual of its words, "or to punish and destroy as they saw fit."
The images swirled again forming the skyline of a floating city, "The gods ruled above their mortal slaves in cities that spanned the heavens." The voice paused allowing the image to shift again, warping into a round room filled with golden figures sitting at a round table gesturing violently at each other, "for millennia the gods squabbled for control and dominance until they became old, their power waning." The picture changed again, new figures replacing the old ones at the table, "Their children, the new gods, grew restless of the old ways and descended to the ground to walk among mortals." The image took on the form of a running hourglass, "as time passed their affections for their mortal subjects grew."
The hour glass was replaced by a golden figure outlined in glowing silver, " Nigleson, the leader of the new gods and son of the eldest god Fahindal, had grown so fond of mortals that he took one to be his wife who bore him a son whom they named Alaisdair. many of the new gods followed Nigleson's example and took mortal mates themselves." The image shifted again to depict the silver lined figure arguing with one lined in pulsing crimson, "When Fahindal caught wind of his sons actions he confronted Nigleson, stated that the new gods had created abominations and demanded that they be destroyed before they matured into their inherited power. Nigleson refused and cast his father out of his kingdom on the mortal plane.....if only it had ended there." The picture shifted again depicting a ravaged, smoldering landscape.
"Fahindal returned nearly a year later bringing with him an army of old gods, it was a move that Nigleson had anticipated though hoped would never come. For nearly two decades the war raged; Heavenly cities plummeted from the sky, oceans boiled forests became deserts, the land itself splintered and drifted apart forming continents. Though their fury was great, the old gods fell one by one. Each casting a new curse on the mortal plane, from famine and plague to vampires, werebeasts, and other horrors came into being. Finally Fahindal and his surviving generals called a truce.
In the ruins of their once great meeting hall Fahindal and Nigleson talked for hours and agreed on the terms of peace; however, as Nigleson embraced his father a blade slid into his chest. Nigleson stumbled backward into the arms of his father's generals and saw the bloody dagger in his father's hand. In that moment Fahindel unleashed a spell that drained the life force from everyone in the room. Empowered by the sacrificial energies from his son and allies, Fahindel went on a rampage. Thousands of lives were ended until he was confronted atop the tallest mountain in the mortal plane."
The image shifted to depict a hulking beast of a man engaged in battle with a young man holding a simple looking staff, "Alaisdair had grown into a fierce and powerful war-wizard. For a month he battled his grandfather atop the summit, their duel reducing the mountain to a deep crater. Wounded and exhausted Alaisdair channeled all his power into his staff for one final attack, slamming it into the ground. His grandfather bellowed in furry as the energies enveloped him, a hole opened beneath his feet and he was drug down into his mystical prison and bound for all eternity. Alaisdair returned to his people and the last of the new gods, getting to see his young wife heavy with child before collapsing dead from his wounds."
The image shifted again, depicting the passage of time. "Eons have passed since that hard won victory, the gods and mortals have enter twined to the point where the lines between them are no longer viable. Though it is a time of relative peace there are those who seek a return to the old way. even now they grow in strength and are drawing closer to their goal!" The voice began shouting, the images distorting and reforming into Alaisdair's staff, "you must find the staff!" It bellowed, "only with it can you stem the tide of evil! Wake up and find the staff ! WAKE UP AND FIND THE STAFF! WAKE UP YOUR LATE FOR CLASS!" his eyes snapped open as he jolted upright nearly falling off the bench.
"I said your late for class." a gruff voice said to his right. Dustin scampered to his feet and snatched up his pack, "Thanks" he barked to the old janitor as he raced passed............................
(to be continued)
The images swirled again forming the skyline of a floating city, "The gods ruled above their mortal slaves in cities that spanned the heavens." The voice paused allowing the image to shift again, warping into a round room filled with golden figures sitting at a round table gesturing violently at each other, "for millennia the gods squabbled for control and dominance until they became old, their power waning." The picture changed again, new figures replacing the old ones at the table, "Their children, the new gods, grew restless of the old ways and descended to the ground to walk among mortals." The image took on the form of a running hourglass, "as time passed their affections for their mortal subjects grew."
The hour glass was replaced by a golden figure outlined in glowing silver, " Nigleson, the leader of the new gods and son of the eldest god Fahindal, had grown so fond of mortals that he took one to be his wife who bore him a son whom they named Alaisdair. many of the new gods followed Nigleson's example and took mortal mates themselves." The image shifted again to depict the silver lined figure arguing with one lined in pulsing crimson, "When Fahindal caught wind of his sons actions he confronted Nigleson, stated that the new gods had created abominations and demanded that they be destroyed before they matured into their inherited power. Nigleson refused and cast his father out of his kingdom on the mortal plane.....if only it had ended there." The picture shifted again depicting a ravaged, smoldering landscape.
"Fahindal returned nearly a year later bringing with him an army of old gods, it was a move that Nigleson had anticipated though hoped would never come. For nearly two decades the war raged; Heavenly cities plummeted from the sky, oceans boiled forests became deserts, the land itself splintered and drifted apart forming continents. Though their fury was great, the old gods fell one by one. Each casting a new curse on the mortal plane, from famine and plague to vampires, werebeasts, and other horrors came into being. Finally Fahindal and his surviving generals called a truce.
In the ruins of their once great meeting hall Fahindal and Nigleson talked for hours and agreed on the terms of peace; however, as Nigleson embraced his father a blade slid into his chest. Nigleson stumbled backward into the arms of his father's generals and saw the bloody dagger in his father's hand. In that moment Fahindel unleashed a spell that drained the life force from everyone in the room. Empowered by the sacrificial energies from his son and allies, Fahindel went on a rampage. Thousands of lives were ended until he was confronted atop the tallest mountain in the mortal plane."
The image shifted to depict a hulking beast of a man engaged in battle with a young man holding a simple looking staff, "Alaisdair had grown into a fierce and powerful war-wizard. For a month he battled his grandfather atop the summit, their duel reducing the mountain to a deep crater. Wounded and exhausted Alaisdair channeled all his power into his staff for one final attack, slamming it into the ground. His grandfather bellowed in furry as the energies enveloped him, a hole opened beneath his feet and he was drug down into his mystical prison and bound for all eternity. Alaisdair returned to his people and the last of the new gods, getting to see his young wife heavy with child before collapsing dead from his wounds."
The image shifted again, depicting the passage of time. "Eons have passed since that hard won victory, the gods and mortals have enter twined to the point where the lines between them are no longer viable. Though it is a time of relative peace there are those who seek a return to the old way. even now they grow in strength and are drawing closer to their goal!" The voice began shouting, the images distorting and reforming into Alaisdair's staff, "you must find the staff!" It bellowed, "only with it can you stem the tide of evil! Wake up and find the staff ! WAKE UP AND FIND THE STAFF! WAKE UP YOUR LATE FOR CLASS!" his eyes snapped open as he jolted upright nearly falling off the bench.
"I said your late for class." a gruff voice said to his right. Dustin scampered to his feet and snatched up his pack, "Thanks" he barked to the old janitor as he raced passed............................
(to be continued)
