In The Land of Niseb
Patreon Button for Niseb
Consider donating! This world has been created by me from scratch for over 20 years!
Home Character Artwork Maps How to Play

History of Niseb

*Warning*: This story has drawn depictions of gore, and is not appropriate if sensitive to this.

The Beginning

At first there was nothing. The ageless ones peered down at nothing. Because nothing really meant what it was, being nothing, drew beyond space and time. Hence existence of the ageless ones, nameless, circular, and continuous before, as it was then. The ageless ones wished to end circularity of nothing, in that it does not begin, and does not end, but merely exists as its own property independent of time and space. It began by creating a canvas, a nameless one thought, to create a loop exiting the circularity of nothing. In the circular thought, as it once was, as it had remained in the circular loop of nothing "Let there be a canvas, for the ageless ones to compose and paint." The ageless peered at this circularity for it had been infinite and circular creating a loop, an exit of interest to them. They stared at it with no splendor, for the canvas had been created before. Just as things were created before by the loop, the circularity created it again ad infinitum. Each canvas represented a universe not of nothing without space and time, but with something, and finite, with patterns fitting each ageless one's circular desire. The planes came, one by one, where millions of eons in each plane passed at the moment of an ageless one blinking to peer at the timed and finite novelties. For it was created out of the circularity of nothing. There the patterns inside each plane spread, and some were appealed to the ageless ones, and some were not, and not worthy of notice. Yet the ageless ones, peering at plane after plane being created, removed the loop to prevent more from being made to restore the beautiful circularity of nothing. They looked at their canvases, each separate and lacked connection. They looked at each one and found each yearning for the attention of other planes, not out of the need of each plane, but out of the need to the appeal of the ageless ones. For the planes knew not of any other plane, only the patterns had knowledge of themselves. They knew not the need for connection, but the ageless ones could see a yearning. So the ageless ones wanted to seek to right the wrongs, not out of justice, but out of appeal. They found the planes visually and auditorily appealing seeing that it was finite, limited, and therefore precious. To preserve what was there for only a moment, each decided to connect the planes of existence to others. Some complimented others, and other planes simply would not connect, for they were too far different from one another to allow for it. Three planes of existence seemed appealing to connect. One plane a powerful and fiery ruby, that if an ageless one came close to it, they would glow in the light of it. It possessed blemishes all inside, but it mattered not. One of them, ageless and nameless peered into the light of the ruby and called it their domain. Inside the plane it possessed no life; yet it was beautiful, red, firey, and gleaming, and appealing to this ageless one. There stood another ageless one, finding much more interest in another plane for its beautiful splendor. It lay in front of the ageless one, glowing a beautiful blue light, to where the ageless one would radiate in its presence. The ageless one coveted this one like an irreplaceable trinket, holding a bright blue and beautiful plane which lacked suffering. Yet to other ageless ones, it held no appeal. For it had no living patterns, and they liked to see the blemishes and tarnish of other planes, finding them interesting. Yet this plane possessed none, and it was appealing to only one ageless one, to which they cherished ad infinitum through the circularity of nothing. One other ageless one peered into a plane that looked like an alexandrite, both of firey red and of magnificent blue depending on which way it was turned, and this ageless one awed in splendor at such a sight. It cherished this, and loved it with great joy, yet had no living things, the patterns inside the stone alone were enough to bring delight to this ageless one. Yet this one peered to the other two, finding that the alexandrite was just like the firey red, and if it was turned, a magnificent blue. All three ageless ones, in infinite wisdom and glory, decided to make a chain to connect all three. There they rejoiced and peered at the grandiose chain of planes, connection with one another, one red on the left, one blue on the right, and the one in the center, depending on the way it was turned, red or blue. Yet each one knew that none of which possessed patterns of life, but it mattered not, for it was precious. The ageless ones painted on their canvases the vibrations, the flaming pits, the beautiful clouds, the gravity, the lands. The red plane possessed beautiful splendorous flame, and pits of rock and ash which replenished itself. It increased the glow to the ageless one, which they found magnificent. They made lava, and poured energy into it to allow it to churn and ebb, to where it glowed so bright red, that it covered the ageless one. There they desired patterns of life, for it was not made, but with combination of known things of the firey red ruby, created it. They made an avatar that would be Lord of Flames. One who could govern, and maintain the splendor of the ruby. While ageless ones had no name, they so desired for one outside of circularity. For they named the lord of flames many names in accordance to the paint: Abbadon, Lawless One, Apollyon, Ruler of Demons, Maintainer of the Flame, King of the Bottomless Pit. There was the blue and blemishless sapphire, at the same circularity, at the same time, knew what the ageless one with the ruby did and would do; so at the same time, the ageless one created patterns of life, according to the paint, a blemishless plane. There they created splendorous blue glow, clouds that would reflect it, the winds, which would spread the blue glow to the ageless one. Yet to maintain such splendor, there also a desire for a lord to maintain it. Just as the ruby glowed, and at the same time that the Lord of Flames was created, they created the Lord of Winds. One who could govern, maintain, and increase the splendor of the blue plane. Just as the ageless one who possessed the ruby, at the same time, desired to name the lord that governed the plane. They named it many names. Lord of Winds, Giver to Hosts, The Provider, The Almighty, Tsid-kenu (seed-kenu), Ruler of Angels, and Elohim. There the one with the alexandrite, peering at the two who created, and at the same time, saw what the ageless one with the sapphire and the ageless one with the ruby had created. Within the same moment, it had saw what they made, and desired to make its own creation. Yet it did not care for one who would command, for it was not necessary. The chains that connected like a silver thread from the ruby to the sapphire, were enough for them. For through the splendor maintained by the Lord of Winds, and the ferocity maintained by the Lord of Flames, the alexandrite on its own glowed with enough intensity that satisfied the ageless one, possessor of the alexandrite plane. So they created land in the plane resembling the alexandrite. They learned from the ruby and the sapphire that it could be of wind, of fire, and of something in between. Land was made, alongside it, poured water to quench the thirsty land, and things to crawl out of and onto the land. There the land lay between fire and wind, beautiful as the land tunneled through the seas and through the skies. There the ageless one thought, if there be no ruler, allow there to be animal, the animal from whence the oceans came, and into the land, in a succession. In the moment of a mere blink, there were the many creatures abound of many types. Some eating one another, some helping, some ignoring, and some who loved the land, some who loved the waters, and some who loved the skies. This brought splendor upon the plane of balance, the plane that when moved, would turn firey red or sky blue depending on which way it was turned, was most beautiful in balance, and in between. So the ageless one left it there in balance, on a chain to compliment the other ageless one's planes. Each of which connected, by thin silver-like wire to create what was then known to none other than the ageless ones as The Trine. A crown of a silver-like thread so beautiful, none would dare wear it. There the ageless ones, of so many that none could count them all, rejoiced in their own creations, being finite and limited. The planes were precious to them as while they were ageless, the canvases and stones they held were not. Many poured their love into the canvases, painting to their hearts content, and watched the patterns arise and fade by their very eyes. They each delighted in the creation, being ageless and knowing only circularity.

Connection of The Trine

The ageless ones rejoiced at their creation, but some in revelry, also weeping. While the beauty was much to handle, much suffering was found in some of the planes. Some looked at these blemishes in their stones and thought they should be punished. Others looked at their own and thought they should be expunged from their splendorous stone; and others who stared in, perfectly happy with their blemishes, but didn't want so many present. And so ageless ones peered upon The Trine and saw the splendor before them. They all spoke amongst themselves, at the same time they spoke, that they responded to resolution, but to human ears bound by time, the conversation came as follows: "I possess a creature that lives almost as long as I blink! Yet I see much suffering through their beauty, they must be shown this does not please me, and does not add splendor to my plane." "I possess a creature that yearns insatiably for knowledge, and finds truth in its surroundings. Yet I see much suffering through their unquenchable quest of knowledge, and sometimes stop others from finding it. They must be shown that this does not please me, and does not add splendor to my plane." "I possess a creature of great magic. They weave and move their bodies to command great energy. Yet I see they are callous, and judgemental. This does not please me, and does not add splendor to my plane." "I possess creatures smaller than yours. Yet with their size, is unmatched speed. They run with great ability, yet possess no ambition of their own. Some of these creatures do not please me, and does not add splendor to my plane." "I possess creatures who jump quite high, and are adept at their mountainous terrains, and have amazing hand-eye coordination. Yet with all their talents are callous indeed. These types do not please me, and do not add splendor to my plane." "I possess creatures who can see as far and hear as well as any other creature. They laugh plenty and live to love. Yet with their loving and living, I see suffering of jealousy and pain. These types do not please me, and do not add splendor to my plane." "I possess great and honorable creatures. They are steadfast and resolute. Yet some I witness are stubborn and broken. These types do not please me, and do not add splendor to my plane." "I possess brilliant creatures who know many things. Yet in their persuit of creation, they dismantle and destroy the environment around them. These types do not please me, and do not add splendor to my plane." And with all the ageless ones peering to those possessing The Trine they spoke: "We wish to remove our blemishes and place them into your planes, ageless ones of The Trine. Allow them to be recycled, and to be judged by the Lords of Flame and Wind." The ageless ones possessing the Trine, and at the same time they were told the troubles of others, gladly accepted, for the Trine was so beautiful, no limit of blemish could tarnish it. While they wished to rejoice, they also sought to reduce the blemish of the other ageless ones. So they accepted them in handfuls, creating their own chains to The Trine, not of the Trine, but connected to it. So created balance to many planes, where creatures lived and died, to be sent to either the plane where the Lord of Winds would judge, or to the plane where the Lord of Flames would judge. Yet something happened to those that died in other planes where the Lord of Flames knew not what to do, and when sent to the Lord of Winds would not know what to do. Instead of being judged in that moment, each creature where The Lords did not know what to do, placed them in the plane in between, the plane of alexandrite, or the plane of Lands. "There you will survive for 100 cert, and those that live the longest, those that suffer through their beauty, for 1000 cert, to be judged and determined by the Lord of Flames and Skies on which plane you belong in, for the ageless ones care not, and the Lords know not what to do with your souls. Yet your blemishes have been removed, and the ageless ones will rejoice at the splendor of each plane." So the ageless ones spoke, circularly, all at once, possessing their planes, were content with their propositions. They gave all power of the Lord of Flames and the Lord of Winds to govern the splendor of the sapphire and of the ruby, and hence, splendor to the alexandrite through great power. Yet creatures where they needed to be sent away from the stones of others to remove blemish, were added to the splendor of the Trine, and some, to be judged for an additional hundred or a thousand cert, depending on how long they lived in their life.

Lord of Flames

The Lord of flames peered in the infinite expanse of flame, of pit, of flesh, of blood, and of stone with rejoice for his land, and looked toward the next connecting plane from an orb gifted by the ageless ones and saw the plane of the Alexandrite, the plane of balance, Pergatorio. "Lo! There is no magic in that plane! How sad! How can flame and pit be kept if there is no magic to govern the land? If the plane of alexandrite has such little splendor, why not gift it one of my greatest demons as offering? If I did, the demon would surely implode on itself and gift it an infinite well of magic to draw from! So I shall call for it from one of my many pits, the power of Magus himself." So the Lord of Flames peered into one of his largest pits, and saw the great beast that lay before, created long ago on the time before times, almost at the same time that the Lord of Flames himself had been created by the ageless ones, was Magus. A demon with a crocodile-like mouth, with more teeth than one could count to any meaning, eyes slitted into a thin and determined stare, great arms that spread from ocean to oceans, with enough magus to supplant the plane of ruby for many eons. Yet this was the time not for Magus to pour its might out onto a saturated land, but onto the unsaturated land. Magus looked up at its Lord with inquisitiveness. "Go forth my minion. Gift them the magus that all would need in order to create splendor in the plane of lands, for it is connected, and with us." With that, the Lord of Flames held his arm out sending the demon on its way. To where it came bursting out of the ground, a giant explosion of such a beast bursting forward to gift its presense. The demon roared and slashed into the side of a mountain. The mountains paling in comparison to the size of such a demon. Yet as soon as Magus existed, magus energy poured out from its body, oozing and dispersing in many directions, as if it were an abundance of air in a vacuum, it dispersed in all directions, and evenly throughout the plane of lands. The demon of Magus died, and stood still, a hollowed remain of what it once was, and could be seen in the plane of lands to this day. Yet it did not stop there. "See those that wander, judgeless, and yet do not suffer. To bring on the red splendor, we must share it with them so that they may one day be judged correctly by me." So he brought on hoards of demons, pouring them out of his pit and into the plane of lands. There they dispersed, terrorized, and maimed those they found. Some of which took a liking to their raw splendorous power, desiring some of it themselves. To which this brought a pleasing glance from the Lord of Flames, for it increased the splendor of the ruby. One of the many demons created by the Lord of Flames, a Magus Demon Demons move as if unencumbered, even with guts spilling outward Everything seemed splendorous to the Lord of Flames, yet not perfect, for in his own domain existed those that did not wish the flame and the pit. He saw them, and sought pity upon the poor wretched souls that decreased the splendor. "Perhaps you are better suited to be judged again, for perhaps you are not demon, but merely unpossessed. Unpossessed demons I name you. So I gift you another opportunity, to come back, and be judged truly for a lifetime of 100 cert." So the Lord of Flames created the unpossessed demon to the plane of Alexandrite, Pergatorio, existing separate from others who were there, yet bound by the same rules to be judged again. So as this increased the pity of the Lord of Flames and his empathy, so did the splendor of the ruby increase in its glory. Unpossessed demon, long in nose, horned, roughly 10-12 feet tall. Incredibly strong.

Lord of Winds

Lo, the Lord of Winds peered towards the plane of Lands and saw that it had become red, tilting to the left. Whereas this did not please the Lord of Winds, him knowing the plane of Lands must be kept in perfect balance. With all such meddlings coming from the Lord of Flames, the Lord of Winds was taken to respond. "Lord of Flames, I know you can hear me for we are connected. Look what has been done to the plane of Lands, Pergatorio, the alexandrite, as some may call it. It has grown red with fire, and with it, the splendor of your plane. I am here to do the same, to achieve splendor of blue, and therefore, a splendor to the alexandrite, the plane of lands. What say you to this?" The Lord of Flames peered through and could hear the Lord of Winds perfectly, seeing the alexandrite, tilted to the left, and engulfed in flame and torment that gave the ruby great splendor to the ageless one. He stood tall above an endless plane of fire and pits and proudly spoke. "Lord of Winds, I see that the alexandrite has tilted to the left, and so I beseech you, allow it to tilt a bit to the right, and you pour your great splendor into the alexandrite, so that it may be balanced. Yet so it become balanced to favor blue by even a fraction of a moment, I will respond back with my own machinations tenfold to increase splendor to the ruby." The Lord of Flames looked down on creatures which none knew, and even to this day, remained unknown, knowing he had a host of creations who he loved, and knew would increase the splendor of the ruby for the ageless one to awe. "Very well," said the Lord of Winds. He saw what the Lord of Flames had done, and created demons of numerous amount, not wanting to create something that could overpower it so easily, decided as follows: "I will make creatures more powerful than your demons, but fewer in number, so that they will not overpower and irradicate the demons, but merely trap them and scatter them across the world. Behold and see my creations, I summon my Totemas, my angels, and spirits that have not yet come to pass." As it was spoken by the Lord of Winds, so it was created. There he created machinations known as the Totema. A large, gargantuan beast who towered over the average demon, standing at over 20 foot tall in human measurement. It was covered in an armor of divinity. The people of the Alexandrite who had come from other planes, but had not remembered it, peered upon their saviors geared in armor of divinity, and magical cannons to stave the demons. Totemas created by the Lord of Winds The angels, summoned by the Lord of Winds There one by one, demons fought the Totema. The Totema began destroying the demons one by one, seeing them die, while nary a Totema even budged at the demon's attempt to stop them. The lord of flames began seeing his demons returning to his realm, and in his dismay, peered back to the plane of lands. Quick to anger, the flame engulfing in his realm, he spoke sternly to the Lord of Winds: "Look what you have done to the alexandrite! It has tilted too far to the right. I can see it turning blue as we speak! You stated you would establish balance, and not tilt it in your favor. I have given you such warning, your Totemas and angels are too much for my demons. So I will bestow upon them infinite life. To come, reborn anew, to the plane of lands to keep balance. I will then create other creatures! These you have never seen!" Out of the pit came a new fell beast. They were dragons, of major horde, some of lightning, some of fire, some of blizzard, and some of water. "We must keep balance. The dragons will stave off your angels and maintain balance. My demons, in great number, will stave off your totema, for they can no longer be killed. But do with them as you see fit with your Totemas and angels, for allow there to be perfect balance between us both." The Lord of Winds agreed. He peered into the plane of Alexandrite, the plane of lands, Pergatorio and saw Totemas not killing the demons, as they would simply be reborn only ten days later, simply creating caverns with their mighty cannons and trapping their essence in these newly built caverns to remain underground, to where it was controlled, and would allow those courageous enough to see these creatures for themselves. Yet as the demons and their destruction dissapated, the dragons remained free, yet satiated in their mountains, their rivers, their lands, their icy plains, and their oceans. Thus both stared at this moment, and wished that each increased the splendor of the Alexandrite. So both of them, at the same time, created gods for worship that would govern different areas of the land. Of far too many to count. Yet a few were notable gods, for they were too important to ignore. May-she-i, Goddess of Magus, while Magus had died long ago, May-she-i announces the ebb and flow of it. Let it not be absorbed, but recycled back into the land for the benefit and loss of the people of the Alexandrite, and so May-she-i promised. May-she-i was known not as one created by the Lord of Flames or the Lord of Winds, but rather together, holding hands together, and making a god of pure balance. So the Lord of Flames and the Lord of Winds peered down at their creation, and was happy, and created splendor not just for the alexandrite, but for their own planes of sapphire and ruby. Yet in the moments, more were made. The Lord of Flames wanted one that could control the shadow, the absense of light as it were. So he created Curr, the death bringer, the Reaper, Arcanus. So the god roamed, connected to all things dark, with ability to grant such ability to others who He saw fit. "Go forth, I have granted you more power than any of my demons, and more power than those that walk the plane." The Lord of Flames was not done however, for he made many more Gods fitting of equal power of that of Curr. God of Blood, Sanguis. "Go Sanguis. You are the owner of life essence in these poor souls wandering the Plane of Lands. So you shall guide them along, knowing they are all beholden to you." In many other ages, for thousands of cert to the common people of Alexandrite, many more Gods were made by the Lord of Flames, and given great power, yet too many to count, and too many to name, yet each having their own name, according to their ability. In these same days, so did the Lord of Winds react. He created his own gods, fitting to the splendor of the sapphire. He began by creating a God of Light, Dilutus. "I see that the Lord of Flames has created a shadow, and where he hides, you prevail. You will shine, and make visible to all that you are great, and that without you, nothing would stir, and the ebb and flow of magus would cease, that they come beholden to you, knowing your greatness. Go forth my creation, and be amongst the people in the plane of Lands, as the one of light." The Lord of Winds looked forward, and saw what the Lord of Flames had made, and decided to present the people a boon. He plucked one of his many spirits that surrounded and praised the Lord of Winds, and out of the randomness lay one spirit that shined greatly. "You will not be a god. But you will be needed. You will be presented great power, and through the afflictions created by the Lord of Flames, you come with a way to remove it. You shall be known as Shirra, the Magus whisperer, the one who creates the stones that heal. The one who enchants the waters with boundless energy, and creator of stones of boon. Shirra stone you shall call them. Many will rejoice in your creation. So I send you forth to live and die amongst the people of Lands, in Pergatorio." While Shirra herself was not a god, she possessed great power. For in her power, she travelled. She travelled on all corners of the land, going to lakes of worship scattered and enchanted them. "Take my stones of Shirra people of Niseb. See that I have made these pools scattered. See that you can take my stones, and enchant them, and remove affliction with them. May everyone who enters these lands possess three, no more, and no less. Allow them to cure the afflicted where needed, and worry not." So while the gods continued to live, Shirra died, in accordance with the law of Alexandrite, 733C, week of 12, ● (Aan) to be judged after 100 cert to go to either the Lord of Winds or the Lord of Flame. They both looked, and knew Shirra had done her task and then more, creating splendorous magic while she stayed, and came back into the embrace of the Lord of Winds, to go down in history and never be forgotten by those who dwell in the plane of lands. Just as the Lord of Flames had done, so had the Lord of Winds, making his own gods, boundless in number, some unknown to those resting in the plane of alexandrite, and others known. So many they were, that the gods were countless, and too many to name. It was in exact number to the amount the Lord of Flames had done, to the exact number, to the exact attention given. Both the Lord of Winds peered, and the Lord of Flames stared into the plane of alexandrite, and saw that it had become balanced. Perfectly blue, and perfectly red, complimenting each the ruby and the sapphire, and all was good to them, and the ageless ones. Through their quarreling which seemed only a moment, thousands of cert passed in the plane of lands, the plane of alexandrite, Purgatorio, The Land of Niseb in the common tongue.

The Land of Purgatorio, Plane of Alexandrite, Niseb

None knew the Lord of Winds or the Lord of Flames, for they were far too foul, and equally far too great for souls bound to this plane to understand. They knew not of The Trine, or the ageless ones. They simply knew they came unto this plane, under uncertain grounds, uncertain past, only to be reborn in this plane in between, to be judged by both, yet unknown to any. Magic, might, beasts, dragons, animals, Totema, Gods, and demons saturated the land, and expansive, none could discover all of it in the time they would need to be there, being either one hundred cert, or one thousand mattered enough to experience it all. A spirit who was a baby in his plane, separate, and unknown to any during his time, for he had only existed but a moment. They had only lived and died in this quick and fleeting moment, only to be sent back. Yet this had not happened once, not twice, not three times, but 14 times to live and die in the same circularity. Considering the recycled nature, this spirit was sent to the Lord of Flame and the Lord of Winds who stared into the weak and dim spirit, weak from its journey across 14 unremarkable lives: "I know not what to do with this dimly lit spirit, it has barely lived." said the Lord of Winds. "I know not what to do with this spirit, it is far too weak to be in my plane." said the Lord of Flames. So, just as countless others they have sent, they send this one dimly lit spirit to the plane of Alexandrite to be judged for their 100 cert. Aarkmonkchule they called him, in rememberance of the many lives he could not live. So as he was born, he knew his name was Aarkmonkchule, in a world destined for only 100 cert, to come in the blink of an ageless one, and to die, or so what was desired by the Lord of Winds and Flame. Yet something was special about this dimly lit spirit. For it had been amongst the edge of planes for a long time. He had existed more on the edge of his plane then in the plane itself, absorbing the infinite knowledge of the ageless ones. While he yet did not know what the ageless ones were, or that they were nameless, he had gained great knowledge in their presence with not a single need of a word spoken. Aarkmonkchule quickly, during his first 35 cert, in the age of bountiful dragons, of lack of kingdom, 1580C, to the common time inside the Alexandrite plane, saw the immense power of magus around him. He was enamored with it, and knew to control it greater than others — due to his presence more with ageless ones than in his own plane. He smiled as the ebb and flow moved with him, creating great fires, water, thunder, and blizzard, Curr magics beckoned to his call, and even the magic Dilutus, light magics, which normally would be incompatible with knowing anything of Curr. The people of Niseb peered to Aarkmonkchule, and named him great. "Aarkmonkchule! Our leader, commands the power of Gods, and beautiful, bountiful, decisive leader!" said the people. Aarkmonkchule, having never lived on the planes for but a moment, enjoyed this attention, and seeked it further. He was seen as a messiah, one who teaches bountiful manipulation of magus to the delight of people, one who bends the power of Gods to his will without restriction, which only increased his worship. May-she-i, the goddess of Magus, saw the ebb and flow around Aarkmonkchule, and was fascinated. For she had never seen such an ebb before. The currents began to pick up of magic into torrents, as more and more believed in Aarkmonkchule's power, only allowing more of the Magus pour into the vessel of Aarkmonkchule. Like a hurricane, it absorbed the energy around it by its mere presence, and commanded great power. Yet as Aarkmonkchule's power grew, people only worshipped him more due to his ability. Yet as people worshipped him more, only grew his overall power at honing magus. So created an endless cycle that would continue till he absorbed all the magus in the land, being finite, and evenly dispersed. Yet as Aarkmonkchule had aged further, approaching his 100 cert limit on the plane, he was instructed to go by May-she-i. "You must return back, to be judged. You have achieved much and become a bright and grandiose spirit. The Gods will rejoice at your coming back so bright. Alas, it is time for you to go. You have shown enough of your deeds to be judged properly." A twinge of fear struck over May-she-i, for Aarkmonkchule had become so great, that May-she-i no longer controlled the flow of magus as she once did. Yet she was uncertain as to whether or not Aarkmonkchule knew that. Yet in the fell moment to send him back, she took her hand into his. "Come, Aarkmonkchule." Where Aarkmonkchule reeled back and in the moment of touching the God, knew she had no power. Aarkmonkchule cackled and glared directly at May-she-i, powerless in the midst of all Magus she used to control. "No. The people have grown to liking me here. I wish not to leave or to be judged, for I am now one of you. I am a God, and you cannot control me, or keep me from those admiring me and making me stronger. I am Aarkmonkchule! A new God, not created at the beginning of times, but created on his own volition, out of his own hands, I am not beholden to you!" The other gods stared back and feared, for indeed, Aarkmonkchule had grown too strong to be dragged to be judged by the Lord of Winds and Fire. Yet as the horrible sin had happened, a being that would last longer than 100 cert, not for 200 cert, or 1000 cert, but over eight-thousand cert creating a great many evil to the people. Yet none could stop him, for he had all the magus necessary to challenge even Gods, and become one of them. He was largely ignored for the eight-thousand cert he had existed by the Lords of Wind and Flame. For they only cared for the splendor, and regardless of Aarkmonkchule commanding great power, the splendor did not decrease.


2232C: "What news brings us this morning?" said the Human King of Ucca Madan, Jesaphen, Middle Province. "We have a problem." said his servant, bowing in politeness. The servant led him outward to peer upon what was seen outside the city. There was a fissure in the grassy plain that had burned from lava overflowing. The land had long seen geysers and fissures, which ripped the landscape over hundreds of cert. "You show me this trifle—what, another fissure scarring the lands of my fathers? Certainly, gods of Fire would protect us. Dekraan would protect us." Dekraan, archmage of fire, fled the land long ago and had not been seen. The servants and advisors of the king looked on with great concern, as the fissures were counted, and witnessed that the number of both fissure and geyser was becoming exponential. Yet behind them existed a huge city that needed to be tended to and even greater farmland that had been claimed by settlers, some of which had already been consumed by the flaming fissures. Despite warnings over hundreds of cert, people had grown settled and happy in the grassy plains of the Dardeth Valley and seldom desired to move, for they had been passed down for over 1000 cert, and the lands were fertile and beautiful, and hot waters were used to bathe, a rarity in any land. "We cannot find Dekraan, Lord Jesaphen; he has not been seen since two cert. We cannot rely on him. The people are too content upon lands that do not welcome them. We must seek the counsel of others, perhaps someone of divine authority." The servant looked worried. The weight of the city was felt upon his shoulders, heart sinking into the floor with the thought of lands who do not care, swallowing citizen and adventurer whole in the pit and flame, should nothing happen. "Very well, bring me a totema who would give council," said Jesaphen, who looked outward to the city and retired back to his castle. The totema were indeed divine, but often only cared about matters that threatened the plane itself. Yet the aspect of the loss of an entire city would warrant the consultation of the great Totemas. The king awaited a Totema to grant him audience, for even Kings were subject to the order of Totema. When a Totema arrived in the city, it waited outside motionless for the king to arrive. The king quickly traveled with his court to plead with the Totema. "O' Totema. We humbly request that you bring us solution. Witness the land of my fathers, and my father's fathers, and the citizen's fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters who play in marred grass. Witness how it is scarred and full of flame. We fear there might be great Gods who do not care for us and wish to swallow the city in pits and flames. What ought we do?" The King bowed before the Totema, who towered above him motionless, holding its divine cannon of Rune. It spoke in a tongue that none would understand, though followers of Totema could. Each follower wore a flowing red cape, which surrounded their body and clothed them with the cape alone. It moved unnaturally, as if each cape were alive with magic. One disciple spoke as they whispered amongst one another, looking down to the king, who was on his knees in the grass. "The Totema would like to feel the ground to find the source of this blight." The king quickly granted it; almost frantic with knowing what danger he and his citizens were in, he sweated on the grass outside of the city. The Totema, upon hearing the grant and being as motionless as a statue, moved with deliberate and resolute movements, pressing a huge armored hand into the ground. It leaned motionless, touching the ground with its hand, pressing with great strength, digging claws into the ground. It spoke again in a deep and bellowing language that none knew but the disciples in flowing red capes. "You stand upon a great blight, Jesaphen, son of Adaben. Ucca Madan, your lineage, and your precious city will fall. The flame will burst out soon, and when it does, not only will your city be engulfed by the flaming pit, but the Human Totema Temple, Laga, the laga lake, most of the flatland, Dardeth Valley, and even the Chaos Valley will be consumed in the pit and flame, should nothing happen." The king looked horrified, his crown almost falling upon the grass as he leaned and pleaded for a solution. The court and servants, with their flags and banners adorning family lineage, felt as if they were carrying flags of dead history in that moment. "What must we do? Surely something can be done. Do Totema do naught but claim the death of mortals?" The totema lifted its body and stood still again, saying nothing. The disciples in flowing red capes looked at one another and began speaking to each other in a foreign tongue. "We command The Tegumentum," said one of the disciples. "T-, Tegumentum? What is that?" said the King, now in disarray in clothing and hair, scrambling to keep his crown on his head. "Tegumentum is a cover. Our totema would be willing to move the land and hopefully stave off the fiery death. For more is at stake here than just your precious lineage or city, King Jesaphen." There stood the King and his court, not knowing exactly what would be at risk, but somehow they knew in that moment the necessity. They trusted the totema implicitly, for they were not known to lie or embellish. "What exactly will you do, followers of Totema?" "You must trust us, King. You may not like the result, but should we not, your lineage, the crown, your servants, the farms, your livelihood, and the lives of thousands will end if you decline our remedy." The court was terrified of what would become of their beautiful land of geysers and grass, with occasional fiery fissures and bubbling heated pools. They spoke amongst themselves and came up with a proposition: "Should we accept, we would be assured nothing would happen to our city? As in, none of the city would be destroyed?" King Jesaphen pleaded, and the court nodded in agreement after debate. "Not a single wall will fall. Though the land around you would change indefinitely from our Tegumentum," They discussed further, for what felt like many multa in the grassland in contemplation and debate. It was said in the story that it rained, yet even aristocrats would stay there that day in the rain, for even they knew what was threatened. They looked back at the totema, and King Jesaphen spoke: "Very well. We accept your Tegumentum under the condition that the city not be harmed." In that moment, the disciples communicated the terms to the Totema in his language. They could only hope they spoke exactly as the terms stated to the Totema, for if even a single word were phrased incorrectly, it could cause the destruction of their city in that moment. The totema then slowly moved from its statue-like state, turning to the disciple and walking past. It moved in a machine-like motion as it walked forward resolutely. It then suddenly paused in the rain as the court and disciples followed. It placed its huge hand down onto the ground, dropping its cannon to its side, thousands of pounds on its own. It then gripped the ground with its other hand and whispered an incomprehensible set of words, to which the disciple stood by dusting the dirt and grass stuck to the Totema's armor. A sudden jerking was felt coming from the ground, with the aristocrats and king alike falling to the ground. Though the disciples managed to stand, anticipating the quake and anchoring themselves to the ground with the use of their free-flowing capes. Suddenly a huge spire appeared in front of them all, made of the ground they stood on and with many layers indicating how deep in the plane it came from. It was erected above, piercing the sky and almost touching the clouds above. The aristocracy, the court, and the king were on the floor, wide-eyed, witnessing the huge spire that appeared in front of them, the grassland obliterated by the thick pillar of rock. It took only a few moments, and after the land settled, people could see the fissures begin to decrease, though not disappear. "What is this spire, disciples?" asked Jesaphen, who stood and looked to them, who finished their work, assisting the Totema in keeping it clean. "Our Totema created a cavern deep in the plane. You would not see it, nor are you intended to. The lava of the great pit of flame has been given room to consume further rock and land underground. This will stave off the flame for 10 cert, after which we must come back and issue another Tegumentum. This will need to be done till the fire stops spreading." The King looked at the huge spire, thinking perhaps the land would bear three or so more of these spires. "Issue us your blood pact to our Totema, to where They will return to move the flame further below. This will happen indefinitely until the flame has stopped. You, your son, and your son's son, your entire lineage will be met into this pact and must not be resisted, should your lineage be slain the day it is resisted, for you threaten far more to deny us than your precious lineage." There the king was issued a knife made of Rune, inscribed in Toteman with the writing "Foedus," or pact in the common tongue. The King begrudgingly thought that in his hands were the decisions that would have to be made by his lineage and his son, who were but babes still. He held his hand out and cut his hand, exposing his royal blood, placing it over a wax parchment, and the desciple in turn prescribed it with his own worship. The scroll was rolled up, the knife put away, and the Totema and the disciples left the land of Dardeth Valley, Ucca Madan. Just as it had been said before, in 10 cert, upon the day, 2242C, Week of 40, ⯀ (Lan) did the totema return and added another spire. The spire was erected next to the first, and there was a quake just as before, and the geysers and fissures decreased, just as it was promised. Yet it did not stop there, for there were not one, two, or three spires but over 325 spires that needed to be moved out of the ground. It grew so much that the city itself had to be raised. It rose to heights that had never been thought of before. Yet the air lay fresh even at the heights, and the rocks that surrounded the city were warm to the touch, staving off the great flame that would consume most of the Middle Province. And on the 326th visit, on 5502C, Week of 40,  ⯀ (Lan) did the Totema arrive, witnessing that the flame had stopped growing and the work and pact were completed. The Totema never returned, and sometime half-way through the long, several thousand-cert pact, did those that settled in these lands call it something new. The Highlands it was called, for it was higher in elevation than any other land yet free of snow. Every 10 cert on the week of 40, Lan ended up celebrating the great Totema, who moved the land and saved the province 325 times over. So did the sons and daughters rejoice. Though their land had become scarred and unrecognizable, they were seen as necessary sacrifices to save the land. But just as the Totema had promised, not a single wall was harmed in Ucca Madan in the creation of the Highlands, and every king honored the pact that was given by the Totema. So each king who came after Jesaphen, son of Adaben, kept the pact of the Totema, even at the ruin of the land around them. Their names are honored in the following lineage according to censuses of olde: Adaben, Jesaphen, Galdor, Varian, Eldric, Aleron, Caelan, Valerius, Corwin, Hadrian, Lucius, Caspian, Leopold, Thaddeus, Baldwin, Emeric, Magnus, Aric, Percival, Oswin, Alaric I, Reginald, Cormac, Lysander, Eldwin, Alistair, Gideon, Archibald, Ulric, Orion, Caradoc, Cedric, Alaric II, Evander, Leander, Alaric III, Roderick, Godfrey, Alaric IV, Benedict, Malcolm, Alaric V, Baldwin, Edric, Maximus, Alaric VI, Frederick, Alaric VII, Hadrian, Julian, Alaric VIII, Tristan, Alaric IX, Casimir, Alaric X, Lancelot, Alaric XI, Cormac, Alaric XII, Percival, Alaric XIII, Reynard, Alaric XIV, Gideon, Alaric XV, Reginald, to the current Alaric XVI, the final king to honor the Totema's desire in the Highlands as of 5492C. Though not listed, each begat many sons and daughters, some of whom were members of the court, others as kings, and some yet leaving the lineage entirely to go on separate paths. Yet this not showing the full family lineages that had spread among the lineage of kings; did each king have to enter into a pact for over 3260 cert.

An Ageless One, Possessor to the Plane of Onyx

One of the ageless ones picked up a plane that came from the loop of nothingness, perfectly circular and infinite. There they picked up a plane of pure blackness, a gem of onyx, with so many blemishes that one could only perceive blackness. There the ageless one looked in wonder, and desired no avatars to hold the black plane. For it was perfectly black, and to the ageless one, required no glow. Yet at the same moment peering to The Trine, splendorous and wonderful, that it might give The Trine perfect contrast. So with a silver wire, just as the others had done, connected it into The Trine, to where beings of blackness, manifestations that had no life and no form stepped in. It appeared as a demon in the ruby plane of The Trine. Passing by, gargantuan, mighty, and beyond the comprehension of the Lord of Flames. The Lord of Flames stopped this essence: "What are you? I have not created you. Where did you come from, demon?" For the black essence had taken on many forms depending on the plane it resided in. It took the form of a mighty demon that floated like magic, legless, 6 arms, a skull for a head with horns that reached high into the red sky, eyeless, giant bat wings coming out of its back and possessing enough magic to end the plane of ruby right there. "I come from the plane of nothingness. Not of the circularity, but of a piece of it, so be it my plane has become blackness, and there is nothing to consume. Yet Gods such as yourselves desire to make bright their plane, but why?" "It pleases the ageless ones. They wish to see splendor in their gems." So the black essence peered at the Lord of Flames, realizing it had seen more than the Lord of Flames himself. "You brighten your stone, but mine is to make nothingness. My stone would be far darker if it took yours." The Lord of Flames recognized its threat, and knew it could not allow this demon any further in The Trine. "You go elsewhere demon. This is The Trine, the brightest, and most beautiful to the ageless ones. You are simply a foreigner, and I cast you out." As the Lord of Flames said, as with any arch-god, so it shall be. With the might of ageless ones, forced the essence of blackness out. Yet as it intended to lock it in its onyx to never be connected to The Trine again, it resisted and flew into the Plane of Lands, the Alexandrite. So there it blew forth out of a portal. It flew high in the sky where the people of the land could see for miles and the black manifestation maintained its form of a demon that none had yet seen. The giant demon saw all, and saw that the people have been kept prisoner, to allow the Gods to finally decide, in order for their planes to maintain their splendor, and found it disgusting. "I am Armagheddon. Soulless and Mighty. I come from the plane of blackness, not of the Lord of Flame, or any of The Trine. I answer to no master, and I seek to increase the splendor of that which is of blackness. I find The Trine pitiful. It is far too bright that none can see, and my ageless one cannot bear. Yet I see all of you, stuck in this plane. To be judged later on by Gods you yet not know. Planal existence is merely a fleeting comfort. It only exists to bring comfort to Gods who remain ambivalent at their creation. Hence existence of beings willing to challenge the Gods. Those who are willing to conscript Gods to answer for their misdeeds. Only through destruction of this plane can justice happen in countless nameless planes. What value are you now, God?" Armagheddon as depicted in legends of old. As soon as Armagheddon spoke its words, its ultimate desire to make the blackness and nothingness spread, to put it back from whence it came. Immediately it stood in the middle of a beautiful forest, above for many to see, only to have it in one fell swoop of an arm wielding a sword of energy, decimated half of the forest that could be seen as far as the eye could witness. The people of Niseb looked in terror, for they had not seen a demon this large, or this terrible before. And yet as they screamed further, the demon took its second arm, wielding an identical sword of energy, cast it at the opposite end of its body. The other half of the forest decimated into a desert, scarring all the way from the ocean to the side of the mountain, to where nothing grows there to this day. "What is this devilry you have concocted Lord of Flames?" asked the Lord of Winds. The Lord of Winds having witnessed that it came from the side of the ruby. "This is none of my creation, it came through my plane and exited to the Alexandrite." explained the Lord of Flames. The alexandrite to the ageless ones began to grow dimmer. The ageless ones feared its expungement. With that, the Lord of Winds asked no more questions. For without quick action, none would survive, and the splendor of The Trine would end. He had sent his totemas and angels, all of them, in order to stop this new devilry. Armagheddon began fighting the many beams of energy that poured at it from the will of the Lord of Winds. Yet as it took such immense power, it simply waved it away with a bit of pain, slashing at dozens of totema falling and leaving their divine rune armor in the sands. The people knew not that Totema were mortal. All who challenged them saw quick demise, even in troupe counting in the hundreds willing to challenge them. Yet this one demon who showed to them, not of The Trine, was enough to decimate many in a few fell swoops of his blades of energy. "I need help, lest we lose The Trine forever." said the Lord of Winds to the Lord of Flames. The Lord of Flames looked at his hoards of demons and realized to himself: "Lo! I possess a great demon, specialized in locking away other demons. Behold my Cincinno Daemonium!" So the Lord of Flames created a great lock-shaped demon, mixed with chains possessing chain links as thick as the tallest of trees, that it would trap this demon forever. Yet on his own, was not enough. Attempts to wrap Armagheddon in the chains of Cincinno Daemonium required stillness. The Lord of Winds had seen this, and commanded the Totema to hold Armagheddon still for but a moment, so that the chains could cover him fully. The totema listened obediently, and all at once, used their powerful beams of energy to stave Armagheddon. Armagheddon, surprised at this energy, wanted to respond with enough energy to destroy the Totema tenfold, yet as it raised its arm to annihilate them, it was halted by Cincinno Daemonium, the lock of greatest demonic strength, and chains that could rival the silver threads of The Trine. Armagheddon had lost its power, locked, forever, for eternity, back to the circularity from whence it came, and disconnected from The Trine. The Trine re-established its usual splendor, yet it left a permanent blemish upon the Alexandrite for all to see. Nothing could be done from it however, be it from God, people, or creature, the scar of Armagheddon were permanent, and everlasting. This area, to the common tongue, is called Al Nuraga, to where the crater of the battle could be seen to this day, never to fade and for all to see. The people, seeing the ruins of totema, peered at the splendorous armor left by them in the battle. They had never seen anything like it before, and wished dearly to possess it. For no other had seen metals so divine, and even in darkness, would glow. Adventurers, craftsmen, smiths, jewelers, and artisans came to Al Nuraga, to create rune items, to which would never degrade, and would never break down. To this day some may find those wielding such divinity, known forever as Rune, the divine armor.

The Fading of Aarkmonkchule

The people witnessed Armagheddon, and all those who were around it, from settlers of Al-Nuraga City, Mystonia, the Gensho Forest, and even areas of Gatin could witness what had happened. The people looked to their gods for answers, seeing such a terrible demon appear, and all totema, the angels, and Cincinno Daemonium drag Armagheddon back to the pit. They saw how their beautiful forest was no more, and that all was left was ungrowable unquenchable desolate land. The Al-Nuraga forest became Al-Nuraga desert in only two strikes of Armagheddon. While some would pray to gods as they could not understand such strife; others turned to Aarkmonkchule for answers. Aarkmonkchule, having nothing to do with Armagheddon, wielding more magus than the entire plane of lands combined, had been bestowed a great amount of responsibility. While the magus ebbed and flowed around Aarkmonkchule like a hurricane, its eye being Aarkmonkchule himself; he had seen the demon Armagheddon, and knew it would come, yet had done nothing at the time of its coming. The people were furious, and began to rebel against Aarkmonkchule. Aarkmonkchule had stood to fight to keep his magus, and while he possessed so much, his followers began to leave. Aarkmonkchule, without his followers, could not maintain the level of power he had grown accustomed to. One by one, over hundreds of cert, he lost favor. Less and less began praying to him, and less began to pay notice. Just as gods fade when not worshipped, so did Aarkmonkchule. Aarkmonkchule could see his very body decay over the cert. He could not stave off eventual death, as he had prolonged his life into an unnatural level to the point his bones needed to dissolve. Aarkmonkchule vested the remaining portion of his energy, and rid himself of his body to maintain existence. Aarkmonkchule is said to remain alive only through spirit, and never to return again, yet still is said to not have made his way to the Lord of Winds and the Lord of Flames. May-she-i looked upon Aarkmonkchule with great disdain for what he had done over 8000 cert ago, yet even she herself would not give Aarkmonkchule notice, for she felt far more punishment to allow him to remain in the plane where he had held so much power, and left with none of it, to wander, and to never be revered again. There Aarkmonkchule witnessed those who he could have helped, and enemies succeed, with no power to do anything on his own. "No. You stay here Aarkmonkchule. You have no bones to crack any longer. No longer can you torment your patrons. No longer can you give peace to those who wish for you. You exist only to serve a lesson, a shadow of your former glory, to stay here in this plane, with no satisfaction, but to remain and watch it fade into the nothingness that it came from. So say I, May-she-i, that I allow nobody more power than I to where I cannot drag them to the Lord of Flames or the Lord of Winds. Wander Aarkmonkchule, for this is all you receive after all you have done." said May-she-i to the wandering, dimly lit spirit just as he had once came, but this time to remain, and never receive another chance. Aarkmonkchule looked with dismay with no power to do anything on his own, and only relied on the remaining followers. While he lost almost all his power, still had ability to influence those of his plain who still followed him. Yet with less than 1% of his power remaining, still possessed great power. Some say who wander the plains that have spoken to Aarkmonkchule, yet few pay him such notice. Aarkmonkchule remained without grave and bodyless due to his long age, dissapearing into dust, where the only thing that remained was the Aarkmonkchule Castle, now called Aarkmonkchule Ruins. It was his stronghold, held in high prosperity and trade, and floating towers with gleaming power. Yet as Aarkmonkchule faded, it fell into disrepair, yet the existence still remained apart of the land.

Glaciesa is born, the bite of cold

Deep in the ruins of Chaos falls came a wyrm of great dread. It came in providence and glory through the Lord of Flames. "You are of great and mighty ice, and in great and terrible creativity in being able to spread the splendor of my plane through your ice: I am deeply indebted. I command you exit my plane, and spread the glory of my plane out into the Alexandrite. Bring them the biting cold, so that they may experience it, and bring upon a shine to the Alexandrite that none yet have seen." So the Lord of Flames summoned Glaciesa, a great and powerful wyrm of death and ice. The wyrm had long slitted eyes with teal and wonderous scales that appeared more of an opal than of scales. It contained beautiful silver razor hair from the top of the head, braided down into 6 ponytails, 3 on each side of her head. Claws were as large as a claymore, a giant spiny frill of a sail on her back in which sailors would envy with its glory and silver-like sheen, a tail as long as a church building, and rows and rows of teeth that crossed one another in unison, two horns that went backward from her head extending and curving upward to meet the sky. There she took off from Chaos Falls, and flew over the mountains, peering upon endless grassland as far as her eye could see. She peered downward and settled in a grassy plane which had been named Chaos Valley of the time, later to be known as Misty Falls. There she rested and slaughtered those with biting breath who entered the plains. With her magic, had summoned spirits who would wander the worlds, confused where the way out was due to the mist of the biting cold. Over time, it became an icy desolation due to her presense, much of the grass had died, and the trees had turned as hard as stone, and not a leaf was seen, though visibility was quite limited due to the oppressive cold. She quickly grew bored after only a few cert, having destroyed and left the grassy plain in desolation, now a wasteland where nothing grew or moved. She moved onto the other side of the Middle Province, out to find a great artifact which she did not understand, but reveled in the biting cold. (The biting cold dissapated from the icy desolation of Chaos Valley, and eventually became Misty Falls, now a perpetual mist where spirits still lie in confusion through the mist unable to find their way out for as long as the mist remains) There, in the Icy Plains, she found an icy core which made around it great cold, akin to her own body. She loved it, and felt the biting cold so splendorous that she coveted it. She absorbed it, and made it more powerful with her shield-like chest, spreading the bite out from the eastern side of the Gensho Forest in the west, and eastward to the Tara Lake, rendering the area in deep biting deathly cold where none would walk. Yet adventurers of great renown knew of this dragon, and grew tired of her presense. Some worshipped her, as being ultimately beautiful, and though she brought endless cold and death, did she bring about great beauty, and power of renown to rival Shirra herself. So did a set of great adventurers through journeys of their own, established great power. They had trained in the ways of Shirra, defeated demons of great grandeur, and seeked glory which would be unimaginable to many, for their treasure was limitless, and was not enough to satisfy them in their adventuring. Hotalth, a great warrior and longbow ranger, had learned his craft in the Gensho Forest and had traveled the world seeking glory, and found it and then some. Yet even in his older age, he would see that the glory were not enough for him, though his ability were seemingly limitless, decimating even the most powerful of demon. Second was Urien, an animal sapien and great assassin, who had become infamous in the underworld for killing kings of olde; Regicisor was his nickname among those knowledgable in the underworld. He had successfully escaped Totema and guard alike, but quickly grew bored of his position, having established great wealth and power, owning some of the largest homes in Niseb. Finally, came the often forgotten Vaho, a forest imp and a grand longbow ranger who followed the party, though not as famous as the others, had ultimately gave great bravery in his desire to be as powerful and as famous as Urien and Hotalth. Urien and Hotalth agreed, allowing him along for he had skills of great scouting ability way above Urien and Hotalth. There they traveled into the icy plains where Glaciesa resided, living on top of the ice core which contained an infinite cold which none could move. Nothing would live, but Glaciesa coveted it with great love. Only once an eon would Glaciesa move away from the death of the Ice Core, simply to go out and collect food to eat, and return to rest another eon, leaving the area she inhabited a desolation. There the adventurers took their chance upon one of these short moments. They trapped Glaciesa along the eastern side of the Icy Plains, and a fierce battle began. Glaciesa, in her cunning, knew that she would fall, lest she fly elsewhere, avoiding such great adventurers. She knew the adventurers likely would chase her to the ends of the Ice Core, deeming it unsafe. She peered off and with great vision, witnessed the Peak of Mystonia, where she fled her precious Ice Core, suspecting a trap, flew to the icy tip overlooking a large gulf. The adventurers saw where she fled, and saw the increased ice along the peak after searching, and eventually found her on a ridge near the peak. There Glaciesa made her last stand, attempting to fell stubborn adventurers, doing everything she could to bring the biting death upon them. Yet it were not enough in her weakened state and without her precious Ice Core; the adventurers felled her and took teeth of Glaciesa to show their victory and saviors of the land. There in song and book their story faded, for none wrote of them any longer, and none are alive to remember it, save for perhaps a few passed along through oral tradition.

The Rise of Flammatus

In the loss of Aarkmonkchule, it became apparent to the lordes of Flame and Wind. They peered into the center of the Trine, the Alexandrite, in its splendor lossing by the very premise of Aarkmonkchule falling. They saw, and they acknowledged to eachother. The Lord of Winds peered upon the Lord of Flames. "Brother, I come to you witnessing what Aarkmonkchule has done, and we cannot judge him." "Speak, brother." stated the Lord of Flames, concerned with his demons as much as the conversation at the time. "We cannot judge him, and so he will stay in the Plane of Lands forever. Yet, I recognize this torrent, the torrent that Aarkmonkchule created. Witness, that in fact the hurricane has ended with his rule, and that the magus does not flow evenly across the plane, does this not decrease the splendor of the Alexendrite?" The Lord of Flames looked and peered for a moment and acknowledged with sheer fact. "Indeed, I see the plane fading in its splendor, which decreases the splendor of both our planes. What shall we do, brother? We combat many, not out of dismay for one another, but for balancing the Alexandrite, and The Trine as it may be. What shall we do in Aarkmonkchule's absense?" The Lord of Winds peered toward the Alexandrite, and so did the Lord of Flames, and for many ages, they peered in thought, independent of one another's thoughts. At 9610C, they peered at one another, knowing the answer at the same moment as those who recognized it stated to one another: "We must create a deity independent of our planes." "Allow him to create the hurricane among the plane." Stated the Lord of Flames, peering into the Alexandrite losing its splendor for the Ageless One. "I agree, and we must give him the ability to bring splendor to the Alexandrite along with the hurricane." So said the Lord of Winds, peering into the Alexandrite for its loss. And so both looked at eachother with devotion and resolution. "We build a diety, independent of the Plane of Winds, and the Plane of Flames, beyond these two, but a builder between the two, that they do not become corrupt with power, but with benevolence, and with a hurricane managing the Magus of Worlds. That there be no pocket independent of magus, for the magus brings motion, and work, and power, to all, and benevolence, those of death and of life, a leader who can bring balance to the Trine, to the Plane of the Ruby, and the Plane of the Sapphire. We bring unto the world, a Lord of Flame, and a Lord of Winds, we name them as follows: 'Flammatus'." So as the Gods proclaimed, so did the reality exist, existed Flammatus in the Plane of the Alexandrite, who peered upon his surroundings, not understaning their existence. "So I am, and so I shall. I know what I must do, so it is created, so shall things be." said Flammatus, who peered upon the plane of the Alexandrite, with a wave of their hand, swayed the magus to flow around them, in a torrent. Yet none knew of their existence, was independent of what would be. For Flammatus existed simply to allow Magus to continue in the plane, and to remove pockets, that Magus flowed freely, for the splendor of the Alexandrite, the splendor of the Ruby, the splendor of the Sapphire; finally the splendor of the Trine. Flammatus wandered, having ability to command the magus around them in a hurricane, those followed toward them naturally. None knew who they were, let alone identifying characteristics; only that Aarkmonkchule fell, and the hurricane continued with the ability of Flammatus; they followed. There Flammatus, in the place of their followers looked at those in Niseb, the Alexandrite, the middle of the Trine, stated: "I bring the balance. I bring that which allows the magus to flow, energy that the people desire. This is energy that, without it, many would die. But I am here, allowance of Magus, dictator of none, I come, and I build a castle with the benevolence of the people, I build a castle of the Middle; the Middle of the lands, Niseb itself." So did Flammatus erect a castle of great strength, not at the level of Aarkmonkchule's Castle, but rather, a smaller one, yet still grandiose to match one of their stature, created an endless moat around it. The moat itself was so deep that it was endless in the firmament. Those who would fall in the moat would no longer exist, only to become judged by the Lord of Winds and Flame, that they built their castle. The Castle, built in Middle Province of Niseb, the plane of the Alexandrite, plane of Lands, right in the center, did it exist. So did much trade happen within the walls of Castle Niseb where Flammatus lie to this very day.

Flammatus' Quest

"I paint my canvas how I will." 9610C: There it was, by the single stroke, as it was, as it would be, and as it would become, as all ageless ones do, existed Flammatus. "The hurricane must continue, if only to bring splendor to The Trine. Aarkmonkchule is dead, and so you must live." For that is what it was, nothing more and nothing less, to simply bring splendor to The Trine to the Ageless Ones. They treasured it for being finite and different from them. "I am what I will be," spoke Flammatus, peering upon the land in front of him, gifted with the power of gods by the Ageless One. He walked along a grassy expanse for days and found the grass green. He could still feel the energy of life around him. The air exuded an aether in which the plants would sustain themselves and grow. The grass blew in the wind, and the birds wafted in it and remained afloat above him. He peered down and witnessed a snake with a mouse in its mouth. He could see the aether surrounding the insides of the mouse and, from the mouse, to the belly of the snake. He peered to the northwest and traveled that way. He could see the aether fled that direction and sought to investigate. He found himself among narrow passageways, where if he moved to the left, he would fall off a cliff into cold, salty waters, and if he fell off the right, he would fall down the cliff into another giant lake. He looked at the grass and witnessed how it had eroded. The birds no longer chirped, and the wildlife had left this desolation. The wind did not flow, and the wildlife had fled. Holding his hand out, he attempted to feel for the aether, which had fled. The wind had stopped flowing, though the air remained. He walked forward and found himself in a small village along the Argonian Plains: Shen, as it was called then, as it would be called to this day. There he witnessed the people living in squalor and sought to question the people as he witnessed their faces caked in mud and bellies swollen from hunger. "The magus left this plain long ago. We plan on moving west to hopefully find more of the magus you see. We're due another shipment of grain, hopefully from the east, or maybe by caravan from the west! You wouldn't happen to have food, would you? We have asked the other neighboring villages, and their woes are the same! Will our gods not answer us?" Flammatus looked down and knew what went wrong. The aether was absorbed and used by mages, which caused the aether to dissipate and hide in rocks and the ground. "If only it could be recycled to where it could replenish itself," thought Flammatus. "I should be able to heal them, but I do not yet know how," cried Flammatus in thought. There he lay by a tree and meditated, searching for answers on how to allow the aether, or, in the common tongue, the magus, to flow. As he meditated, he could feel the remnants of the aether under him and slowly allowed it to rise above the ground. The tree he lay under began to grow budding leaves and fruits. Looking up at the tree, it welcomed the aether and absorbed it. The branches gulped at the aether like a pack of dogs in the middle of the desert, lapping at puddles. "More," cried the tree, now shading Flammatus and bringing comfort. Villagers had forgotten what the trees looked like with leaves, save for the elves frequenting and favoring the forest. A child pulled at Flammatus' red silken robe. The child looked up with glimmering eyes of green, peering up at wet and budded leaves. "The tree! It is green! Who are you?" "I am what I will be," said Flammatus, interrupted by the child, now getting up to walk away from the small crowd that saw to marvel at the tree of budded leaves. In his meditation, he could hear the sound of planes. On the left, he could hear the distant cries of demons, of licking flames lapping at cliffs. He could hear the echoes of the pit and ash, the dragon, and the clattering of chains. On the right, he could hear a gale, the wings flapping and moving about perpetually in flight; bells that rang in a harmonious carillon, which were so beautiful, they had to be made of gold. Jeweled harps of beautiful blue metal and wires of silver rang in arpeggios. "Come to us and learn how to make the hurricane." Two loud voices spoke to him under the tree of budding leaves in that moment. He traveled to find the ones that spoke to him, listening close to the echo of the planes. He found himself walking near water, feet wet, and dead shells attempting to pierce at him aggressively. The water was starved of aether, and the fish had long since left. He collected what little magus he could in the surrounding area and walked on the water. "The voice is that way," he thought internally, hearing the carillon of gold in front of him. He walked for days, resting on top of the water and walking forward, feeling the horizon of the water and the sky fade together. The night caused a swirl of stars and twinkling light, the waters an obsidian black, twinkling from the stars of flowering jewels. The expanse spun around him, which would disorient and destroy even the best of navigators on boats, yet Flammatus walked, listening to the sound of the carillon of gold as a guide, waves disappearing under his feet. The night dissipated, and he found himself among clouds, beginning to fall through a bright and windy sky, wet and comforting clouds gliding around his skin. He looked up to the sky as he fell endlessly, hopeless in his movement as he fell. "Become an owl, so that you may control your movement," cried the voice speaking to him through gentle whispers. There he turned into an owl with golden eyes and wings of copper and ash. He extended the wings, and the wind carried him along. In front of him was the presence, which spoke as he glided along the wind and cloud. "You come here, Flammatus, and certainly, you heard the song and carillon to bring you here. Those who go this way are certain to die, but not you, Flammatus. You are destined to hear the cries of the planes and cross them, to learn the creation of the hurricane," said the voice in a gentle yet powerful tremor in front of him and all around. "Who are you? What is the hurricane?" "I go by many mortal names, but it is not important. You are one of us, Flammatus. You have been brought into the Alexandrite, where you appeared, to bring splendor to it. You witnessed the trees, the people, how they rest in squalor, and bellies swollen from hunger. You have seen how the grass has become dirt and the trees nary a single leaf. The aether is trapped in the rock and must be brought back through the land so that the people survive and bring splendor through the pattern of The Trine. You must allow the movement of aether around you to create a hurricane of aether. This is your destiny, Flammatus. To the mortals, they will feel a gentle breeze, and the birds will feel the wind lifting them, and the creature and wood feasting from it, and the people will rejoice at your presence." "How do I bring about the hurricane?" asked Flammatus in his owl form, gently flowing. "You must learn the ways of wisdom and order. However, this would only be half of the pieces. The other half you will find from my colleague, the Lord of Flames." "The Lord of Flames is your colleague? Then you must be..." "The Lord of Winds. Yes, and to mortals: The Giver to Hosts, The Provider, The Almighty, Tsid-kenu, Ruler of Angels, and Elohim. Though you, you will be a mover of aether. 'The Mover,' they will call you. You must begin by reading the repository of gods." There, the skies opened into a library. "The Bibliotheca Deorum," it was called. Those who could witness it would observe over a billion volumes in its countless tiers. Flammatus, as an owl, peered at the titles of each volume. "The Chronicles of Celestial Realms; The Dieties and Doings; Epic Sagas of the Immortals; Wisdom of the Pantheon; Myths and Legends Among Humans; The Anthology of Creation," read Flammatus silently. "You will read each of these and memorize each book, every page, every punctuation, comma, dot, and notation. Then and only then will you have the knowledge of the gods. You need not worry about the time it would take to read in here, for in here, the planes around you are timeless. One eon in here is a fly's patter of its wings there." The books were cleanly ordered in their tiers, some ordered in time, some ordered in name, and some ordered by their number. Flammatus, as an owl, peered through each tome with haste, memorizing each and every passage and carefully placing each book back in its original position. After many eons had passed, Flammatus had not aged a day, save for his visage, which grew intense with wisdom. He peered to the Lord of Winds and proclaimed, "Alas, I have finished your Bibliotheca Deorum, and I know the knowledge of gods. I have placed them each in their respective places, learning order and wisdom. I am ready to return and learn the second half of my quest." There the Lord of Winds peered upon the books and the tiers among book cases as tall as mountains and saw that all had been put back. "Ah, but your test is just beginning, and you have not yet learned order, Flammatus." "Then I must order each page in its original position, then?" questioned Flammatus to The Lord of Winds. In that moment, the pages flew out of each book, flying out and making piles of paper as deep and expansive as oceans. Flammatus peered in awe and realized his test before The Lord of Winds spoke. "You order these pages back in their original position and place them in the exact spot they once were. Should you miss a single book, nay, a single page out of place, and you will be stuck here till the Alexandrite fades." With the test given to Flammatus, The Lord of Winds disappeared in front of him. Just as requested, he remembered every paper, every page, every sentence, every word, every notation, and every punctuation. Upon a single observation, he would know what book it came from and what page it was on, though it wasn't always labeled by page number. He then took each page, placing them in the order he remembered. With completed tomes, he placed every book in its place, learning the importance of order, for without order, knowledge was impossible. Tome after tome was recompiled and placed in their respective tiers in the way he remembered and knew what order it came in. Many more eons passed as he spent his time ordering each book and page, and his talons had become caliced with experience carrying the books. "You completed the Bibliotheca Deorum, but are you sure it is in order?" Flammatus, in his owl form, peered upon the books he had been staring at for eons and looked back. "Yes, I am certain." "Should the order be off by a single page, you will be stuck here forever." Flammatus knew the consequence, for he had read the knowledge of gods and knew the tomes were in perfect order. In that moment, he found himself as a demi-god on the grassy plane of the Alexandrite. He immediately peered to the northeast, hearing the sounds of grinding rock and chain in the distance, where the other voice guided him. He then moved northeast, gliding along the aether for days. He made his way into Chaos Falls, surrounded by bushes of flesh, stone blades, and cliffs of bone. The demons dare not touch him, for he was of something other, beyond the power of demons alone. He walked freely, one of the only ones to step foot into Chaos Falls in this way. The demons moved and heeded around him. The skeletons of the bone fields stayed their blades of bone and steel. He looked forward into the dark expanse and into the oppressive darkness. There, the darkness consumed him, like a moonless night without starlight, on the ground with black ash. He used the sound of the chains and grinding rocks to find his way, and he found himself in front of two towering demons blocking a red double door with door mallets as large as buildings riveted to the door and several black beams of heavy obsidian pillars blocking the way. There stood Grulok, the arch-demon of ears; there also stood Marzath, the arch-demon of eyes. The demon on the left of the gate opened many eyes among its head, hundreds of feet tall, arms crossed, blocking the way. It spoke loudly and with a booming voice, similar to the sound of warhorns: "Ah, behold, Grulok. I saw this one traveling toward us for days. Look at this puny god who dares approach our gates," spoke the arch-protector Demon of Eyes, Marzath. Its huge eyes peered down at the tiny god Flammatus, piercing through his soul with an oppressive energy that would paralyze mortals. The other on the right, of no eyes but of many ears covering its head, arms crossed similar to the other Demon, used hand signs with many arms, of which Flammatus could understand from his knowledge: "Marzath, you have got to be kidding me. This insignificant deity thinks he can just waltz through the Chaos Gate? I could hear his pathetic breathing from miles away." said the arch-protector Demon of Ears, Grulok, through hand signals. Marzath took a huge fist to slam down onto Flammatus, only for it to be repelled in a well of energy far beyond what he had seen. He felt the weight of the world upon the small demi-god. The demi-god stared back, piercing into the gaze of Marzath, who turned away and covered its eyes with its arms. The gaze was so piercing that it was staring at the sun itself. The weight of the Alexandrite was upon him, and no gaze was more powerful than his, including the arch-demon of eyes, Marzath. "We will not open the gate for you, puny God. You may have a gaze that pierces eyes like a pike, but you cannot defeat us. What might you have if all you have are your eyes to see?" The arch-demon of ears, Grulok, signed frantically to Flammatus, the blackness turning to a white and blinding flash, and the sudden burn of a thousand suns surrounded him. There was no respite; even closing the eyes and shutting the face off with arms pierced his eyes with an overwhelming light. Though he was blind and burning, he could hear the distant chains and grinding of rocks beyond the gate and began walking forward. His flesh became engulfed in the flame of suns, his head buzzing with the light so bright that it burned his face. "None pass us. We are the guardians of the Chaos Gate. You go no further, pathetic tiny God." signed the arch-demon of ears, each sign of his hand oppressive in the blaze of suns. He walked through the spell and screamed with a mouth that held the wind, which held the wings of every bird and the gale of every mountain upon him. The yell was so loud that it caused the demon to cover its ears in pain. The spell dissipated around Flammatus. "You let me through, demons, lest you watch your plane fall." He spoke and signed, both demons writhing and unable to speak, attempting to consume Flammatus in an infinite shadow. "Disappear, Flammatus, the Mover." The demons chanted to create blackness around him. Yet as the blackness surrounded him, he walked in and through the darkness. The darkness itself was afraid to consume him, recognizing the intense power that moved him. The darkness feared Flammatus and fled in his presence. "Impossible! Nobody crosses past the arch-demons!" The demons wailed, screamed, and signed, groping and clawing, unable to touch Flammatus as he moved the immovable obsidian pillars that blocked the gate from opening. Each pillar, on its own, weighed thousands of tons. "Why can't we touch you, pathetic god?" Flammatus removed the final pillar, placing it neatly in a row alongside the door. "Because I am the mover of this plane. I am here to bring the hurricane so that all may live and that the torrent makes a gentle breeze. Mere demons cannot touch me." He walked silently forward into the entryway to the Plane of Flames, the demons prying and groping to stop him, unable to stop The Mover even with the resistance of mountains. There he found himself in the pit of rock and ash, an oppressive flame that even he could hardly stand. He looked forward and walked among burning coals, flames, and cinders peppering his flesh as he walked forward, barefoot and with naught but his red robe. "Past my demons; you did, Flammatus. My companion has told me about you and has found you wise and orderly. I have witnessed you for eons." There was the presence of the Lord of Flames among him. Gazing over with ferocious eyes, ready to consume him whole, Flammatus spoke resolutely: "I am not yet ready to create the hurricane. I must learn more. What is the other half of my quest?" "You already know about your quest. You stand upon it. You are to create a vast forest worthy of the flames of my plane. It must breach the expanses as far as a god's eye can see among a flat plane. The forest will be so wide that mortals who walk through it will never see the end. Even if they walked in a straight line, their children, or their children's children, would even reach half of the distance of this forest, even if they walked their whole lives. You are to build this forest, not of the ashes I have created but of the ashes of demons, whom you will befriend. The trees will not grow lest you use the compost of your companions. Then and only then will you know the ferocity through flame and the patience of gods." He knew he stood in a portion of the realm that was absent of time and that if an eon passed, a single fly's patter of its wing would wave. There, to learn the ways of ferocity and patience, he was transformed into a bear by the Lord of Flames. He was in an empty field of ash and rock, where nothing would grow, and so did demons follow him in curiosity. The demons spoke from many ages, curious about his strife and the lack of time in his presence. "This God is just lonely, orchestrating cosmic dances of magical energy. Certainly, we could be of help." "Through the God of Movers, we consult him and watch him grow his forest. Imagine the aethereal gratitude we would receive!" "Certainly the God of Movers could learn a thing or two about navigating the currents of this plane." "This God is profound. We could learn the embrace of the ebb and flow of this one." "The bear of the forest is a collaborator in magical realms. The God of Movers might appreciate our presence." The demons were intoxicated by his infinite well of energy; the demons fed off him and brought him companionship in return. Though he would never age as a bear, he would have his fur thicken from the ferocity of the flame and the age of an eon passing. When his demon friends died, he wept at first, but knew this was the way of mortals, ending as trees that wafted by flames. He buried his friends, not once, not twice, but millions of times, the trees growing naturally around him, building a forest so large that the plane of flames would feast on the energy of demons for eons. He looked to his forest made from the endless ages of friends that would follow him, an entire relation of birth, life, and death felt as a single tick of a clock, one after the other. He slept in caves and along flames, unbothered but weeping. The forests fed on his emotions and grew beautiful in front of the Lord of Flames. The expanse was so wide that the Lord of Flames could not see the end, melding into the flame-ridden horizon. Flammatus lay quiet, ferocious, and patient, knowing the names of each and every demon he befriended and helped, long since dead to never return, but only to come back as beautiful trees to be fed to the flame. Such was the life of gods that after the death of all living things, the trees became flames and then ash, bringing an eon of effort into mounds of ash and cinders. "You have completed your task, Flammatus. Yet you weep not for your friends. I expected weeping in this moment of destruction," said the Lord of Flames to Flammatus, who looked up at him as a bear. Flammatus spoke to the Lord of Flames: "Gods cannot have mortal friends, not truly. They lived full lives and died in satisfaction or a yearning for living limited lives, then ended. Yet the gods must witness their bodies become consumed with the flame, maggots, fungi, and decay, becoming soil ripe for growth. There we witness our friends become buds, and then trees, and then fuel for the flame, and then ash for the pit. This is to know the ferocity of the flame and the patience of witnessing life come and go freely without intervention." Alas, Flammatus was returned to the Alexandrite, in what is known as the Middle Province. Immediately, he could feel the lack of the aether. Though, by looking forward and moving resolutely, the hurricane of aether began. The hurricane followed him wherever he went, though, to any, only felt as a breeze, but to Flammatus, a torrent, a gale unchained. The aether left the rocks and soil and immediately cast itself against the fields and the cliffs, soaring up into the sky and lifting the wings of birds. The plants returned, the food grew, the worms chewed through dirt, and the wildlife rejoiced. Over time, Flammatus was recognized as The Bringer of Movement. "I bring the balance. I bring that which allows the magus to flow—energy that the people desire. This is energy; without it, many would die. But I am here, allowance of Magus, dictator of none; I come, and I build a castle with the benevolence of the people; I build a castle of the Middle; the Middle of the lands, Niseb itself." Flammatus looked in the center of the Middle Province and, to give equal distribution of the aether's torrent to all parts of Niseb, created a castle where many would rest. The castle was high up in the air, with towers piercing the sky, which would be seen by many. He erected a floating crystalline structure along the middle, where he resides to this day, to help bring about the torrent. Flammatus enforced the movement and brought splendor to the Alexandrite, and to that, the Trine. The splendor was returned, which brought satisfaction to the Ageless Ones, knowing the planes were finite and precious.

The History of Niir-ahn, Bard of Elves

9502C: The elves and forest imps had been in quite a bit of strife across the forests of Niseb of all the provinces, none of which more prominent than in the Gensho Forest, Middle Province. There lay the usual chattel slavery that had occured of the elves for over a thousand cert. Arguments of their subjugation was that they were barbaranistic, no different from the rabble of bandits that littered the land. Elves looked upon them with disdain, and the forest imps looked back with the same. "Give them something of value. Let them be in their squalor by leaving them alone, or send them boundless privilege by having them live among us as servants?" said the Magistrate of the Elven lands, gazing down upon crowds of forest imp being collected by the hundreds. Others agreed with contemplation, as it was natural to them, and they saw the squalor that the forest imps lived. Each forest imp, out of desire to show the subjugation, always wore wooden masks over their faces to cover their suffering. This was a tradition that started thousands of cert ago in retaliation against the subjugation when it first appeared. Elves, over long periods of time, forgot the face of forest imps. They never knew them, and even the eldest of elves died off long ago to tell of it. All that was left were the forest imps who would never remove their mask. No elve desired for them to remove it either, for while they possessed these masks separating, they feared their ears, frighteningly similar to that of an elve. The elves didn't want to imagine the horror behind the mask, preferring them faceless creatures of the wood. The elves would always look at the legs, indicating whether it had goat-like legs or not, instantly knowing whether or not it was an elve or a forest imp. One day, deep in Empaiga, south of the city of Elves, lay a single poor forest imp by the name of Niir-ahn. He was small in comparison to the others, seen as not strong enough to go over a mountain, something the forest imps prided on in their ability of climbing, jumping, and running. Niir-ahn decided to leave his hut made of reeds and mud, surrounded by other forest imp each in garb fitting for the wood. His mask stayed on, like every other forest imp, even without elve or outsiders around. For it had become so apart of their culture, taking off your mask was taboo. So strong was their conviction, that the people from all across the land forgot what their faces looked like. Niir-ahn moved to the edge of the forest to collect berries he knew grew during this season, and as he was gathering with a basket, came unconcious. He fell onto the ground and the wood, lying on dead leaves and shrub. Berries surrounded him as a troupe of elves collected him. There they went on a treck to the Elven village with Niir-ahn in tow. Niir-ahn woke up only to find out he had become a slave, put into servitude to the elves, to begin his new unchosen life in Elven village. Because of his demeanor, he was seen as light skinned, and in perfect health, seen as young, and spry to the slaveowners. At no choice to himself, Niir-ahn was taken to the Elven king, Duinaden. Duinaden desired Niir-ahn for his ability of making great song of his people, and being far more receptive compared to other forest imps. There Duinaden gave Niir-ahn a lavish lifestyle. While the elves saw pity upon the forest imps, they were ultimately slaves, some taken care of with great care, and others were disciplined ruthlessly by cruel masters. Over many cert, Niir-ahn kept company to the King, and created a great freindship that would be felt throughout the Gensho Forest. Elve and Imp knew both were happy in their company. Yet at all this time, yet not a single day came when the mask was removed. Certainly in private Niir-ahn would remove his mask, but only brief, and only to bathe. None knew what they looked like, even in the presense of elves, and no elve would ever attempt to remove the mask out of curiosity. Yet the friendship grew so great, that Duinaden decided to ask out of frankness and friendship to Niir-ahn: "Niir-ahn, my servant, the bard of this lordship, I must ask you a question of private, and do as you see fit with this information. Over the cert I'de dare not ask, nor do I feel comfortable asking now. However, as the time had passed, you have seen my face by every day into the night, and throughout many suns and moons. You know what I look like, yet I only know what you look like based on the unique symbol of your mask. So I must ask, what do your people look like? Is there even a face behind the wooden mask anymore?" Niir-ahn saw this normally as blasphemy spoken by any, let alone a king of such import. He wanted to answer with dismay and disgust, but he thought about it for a while, and for many cert, considered it. Duinaden did not ask again, for he knew the contemplation behind such a question, and simply lay silent till the answer was given. He did not ask another question, or ask him to sing any such song, and after two long cert, Niir-ahn was ready with an answer. "Your lordship I must say, I was so flabbergasted by your question that it has left us in silence for a long time to my people. You know what this mask means to me and my people, and the removal of the mask is an indication of ignorance of history. Our group has had many strife for many cert, and some whisper it happened prior to entering this plane. So ye ask me, a lowly one, to remove my mask so that you may peer at my face? I grant this, but only for this time, and to never appear again, or to be mentioned in passing." Duinaden peered over with a wide set of eyes, and with no servant, no lords, no merchants, and no guards, Niir-ahn revealed himself to Duinaden and Duinaden alone. Duinaden held great desire, and dismay, horror, and anticipation at the same time. For none had seen them for thousands of cert, and all who were alive had forgotten, and dared not ask. Yet here it was at this moment, that Niir-ahn did reveal his face. Underneath lied a visage no different than that of the elves. Squinted eyes, slitted from one side to the other, cleanly preened brows and a thin nose, strong and full lips, a chin that was cut into a diamond shape, and prominent cheek bones, exactly as the elves, for they were of the same plane, and therefore subject to the very things elves did. Duinaden cast away his face, for he could not stand what he saw. He expected something of a beast, or something with fur, just like fawn-like legs the forest imps possessed. Yet they did not look any different, they looked just like him. A wash of guilt fell over his heart and sank into the ground, his eyes darting around afraid to look back at the face of Niir-ahn, who looked just like them. Yet Niir-ahn stood there and said nothing, but all could be felt in that room. Niir-ahn, having regretted his decision and Duinaden having gone silent, quickly put his mask back on so that he did not need to peer any longer at his visage. Many cert passed after that day, and every day the king would go by thinking about the haunting face, for it was too alike to consider them lesser, of pity, or of slaves. They were just like them. Duinaden peered among the great number of forest imps that lay in servitude of the Elves, and through great admiration, not pity, did he decide to free them. No longer were the elves allowed to put them in servitude, or see them through pity, but as respect, coming from the same plane that the elves did. As of 9543C, the 15th week, ⯀ (Lan), the elves had freed the forest imp from their shackles, and allowed them their freedom. Some of them fled, others stayed, and others questioned the reason, and none would know it, other than Duinaden himself and Niir'ahn, who dissapeared in the forests of Gensho, and died long ago.


The Time Before Times: "Lo! There is no magic in that plane. How sad! How can flame and pit be kept if there is no magic to govern the land?..." said the Lord of Flames, peering into one of the largest pits of ash in his plane of flame and rock. There lay Magus, a demon known for a seemingly infinite well of energy that billions of creatures would sustain themselves for eons to come -- lay dormant in wait for a command. Magus, a huge armored behemoth large enough to cross the expanses between mountains. The pauldrons over his shoulder were made of stone, with spines pouring out from the pauldrons with hundreds of demons stabbed through them, indicating the superiority of Magus over the demons around it. It peered up toward the Lord of Flames, who summoned it, slowly stirring awake, long slitted eyes slightly expanding out to peer upon the God of Gods. It lifted itself, covered in the chains that kept it in the pit. It possessed a crocodile-like mouth, wide and gigantic, and blue energy pouring from the seams of its armor. "Yes, you.  You must go out into the plane of the Alexandrite, Magus. Bring them an infinite well of energy to tap into. It will flow out of your body and disperse, so that the creature, the wood, the crawling things, and my demons, who yet do not live there but will, can bask in your glory. Yet I know your presence will be brief. The land you appear in will be like a desert without water. It has no magicks to speak of. Yet beneath each plate of armor you possess is enough magic to create splendorous wonders for eons to come for all who inhabit this magicless land. The creatures of this land need you to increase the splendor of my plane. So I cast you on your final quest, Magus, bringer of energy." So did Magus feel the weight of chains fall off its gargantuan body, lifting upward and peering at a mirror-like portal above it, so that should Magus only stand, it would appear in the plane of the Alexandrite. Magus, smiling with great intent and freedom, lifted his body above the pit of flame and ash and poured out with arms as thick as the widest rivers of the land. It pressed its huge armored hand up against the edge of a yet unnamed mountain, later known as the Eastern Magan Plains, and lifted itself above the portal, peering upon an endless and bleak grassland. Yet just as Magus experienced this new and foreign landscape, it felt its energy waning from its body. Just as the Lord of Flames fortold, the magus began pouring out of his body and spreading outward like gas in a vacuum. Its very life force poured out like rivers in the air; it screamed to keep its power, reaching out with its right arm to pull back the rivers of energy that poured from it. Yet it were too late for Magus, for as soon as its arm left the plane of flame, the power of its infinite well of energy became unsustainable. The energy poured out from between each plate of armor, out of the slitted eyes, and out of a gaping mouth, screaming. The magic covered the grassy plain, and the energy and boundless things felt like a new wave of life. They were like creatures that knew not the quenching drink of water but, in this one moment, covered and bathed in it. "It could be manipulated. We moved it and created solid forms with it: fire, water, lightning, ice, earth, and winds. This, I tell you, adventurers. It is all around us. We can summon forth and even change forms with it. We conjure great strength with it. The sacrifice of Magus was done many eons ago, of which all living creatures are forever thankful." said the Abbot of Sharin, Western Province, 3427C. So Magus's prophecy was fulfilled according to the Lord of Flames. Yet none were to witness it; the remains were there. Scholars of the world would come to the Western Province at the ends of the Daga River to peer upon the husk of a demon that remains there to this day. It were huge, larger than the mountains that surrounded it. Spikes of earth, and a hollow form of the demon remain. Yet some who theorized, that perhaps Magus could still be alive, yet having not enough of the essence of magus (the energy) to move. There, and for thousands of cert did various theories form around Magus and its origins. "Clearly, it comes from the place of demons. This demon is far more powerful than any demon witnessed before. As to when it died, it died long ago. It was likely defeated by our strong totema. This can be confirmed through the hole in its back." Jemead-bo, Warrior scholar, 3297C. "It is no demon, but a God. No demon possesses so much power. Yet all its power is sapped. It exploded out of its back, arms, and head." Kooh, Magi of 8 feathers, collegiate and studier of the Western Province, 3320C "It was conjured by old majicks we yet do not know; it could come back or wake up; it is dormant now." Uugh-ratan, Icanim Demonologist, 4432C. "The demon had so much magus that it created the mountains! It turned the western province into a desolation! As to what killed it, the noxious fumes of western province covered it and choked it." Sisley, Elve and scribe of the Western Province, 3227C. Yet as many theories came across, some correct, some not, and some breached a species superiority over others, the story of Magus was postulated into legend and were only understood by the most studied of Western Province Demonological frameworks. 10854C: "I know what lies in there. So many are afraid to come to it and see it awake, yet I know it will not." said Uren, studied Scholar of Magus, learned in many universities by human and icanim alike. He knew that there was no way that Magus would awaken, and any creatures that existed feeding off the magus would easily be subdued by manipulating the magus inside the body. Yet Uren's goal was far more grandiose. Uren traveled to Magus and made home inside the body of Magus. Though they were covered in monsters and demon adept in magus alike, they were easy to subdue. The demons and monsters responded to Uren immediately upon entering their magus-saturated domain and ran at Uren and company. Yet, with hired adventurers, he fled and fought his way up the chest cavity.  At the top, there appeared to be an untouched and still-beating heart of Magus. Uren had written many hypotheses about a conjoined core of magus energy and felt that it would still be there. Yet what he imagined, being a crystal or an artifact, turned out to be the heart of the body of Magus itself. He looked in awe and smirked, sending his guards to protect him from monsters, and managed to harness enough magus to command the creatures that fed on Magus' body for centuries. There, he knew that he could harness more power than any other magus in history and dreamed of possessing powers even beyond those of Shirra herself. Even godlike beings such as Flammatus would likely have difficulty preventing the power of Uren, should he harness the power of Magus itself. He began his study and holed himself away, and some were to say that, as of 10904C, to the day, continues to study the heart of Magus and control the world with the power of Magus itself.

Inierm Ganjuricts -- The Insane Asylum

Inierm Ganjuricts was a scholar of great pride and renown. He attended the school of Mystonia, and went on pilgrimage to Vuuhkrai in an insessant desire to discover further alchemical wonders in the world. This was confirmed in Inierm's own diary, long since confiscated. 10884C, 22, Jan: "Perhaps through the use of further sulfur, mercury, and salt in the body of these things, we could provide a matrix to which the mercury can act. We have ourselves fixed the energies of water and earth, and in its current theory, through our alchemical reagents, we can establish the soul of the Thing. Since if the fire and the air possess consciousness in its former, the phenomenology could only further be applied by person, to person. So in, in terms of lead: it may not even be possible with the given powers of magicks. Yet, the ingenuity of humans have shown pervasive, from the pen I use to write on this parchment, to the books of absorbtion, likely discovered by the great ingenuity of the human." (Inierm Ganjuricts diary, page 227) Indeed, through the great deal of work and study of Inierm Ganjuricts, it was apparent that a great mind was given to him upon being born naturally in Niseb. 10900C, 10, Ban: "The books presented even in Vuuhkrai have shown little progress. I have spent already 13 cert and find little of value. I had originally believed that turning led into gold was impossible with our current knowledge, yet as I continue research, while I find nothing to find yet, perhaps the knowledge could be provided. I have heard from various priests about the powers of unknown magicks that no priest would ever delve into. Even the alchemists avoid the topic entire, the might of Curr Magicks is often a field to avoid for risk of corrupting themselves. Yet I feel this is a belief of superstition, not of any validity in fact or knowledge..." (Inierm Ganjuricts diary, page 430) Inierm's desires were strong. He had spent many cert pouring over book after book, attempting experiments, and even looking thrice over to find anything he may have missed. Indeed, at some point, he would have been considered one of the foremost researchers in the field of alchemy. Yet as he studied, he found barrier after barrier of unknown knowledge, often blocked by followers of Lles and May-She-I. "Do not seek this knowledge, Inierm. I mean it. You do not know what you seek. My expertise is in the magicks of olde, and there are common reasons why we do not seek them further." unknown Magi, likely a deacon of May-She-I. This was just one interaction as he sought knowledge within the expansive libraries of Vuuhkrai. At first, he accepted and peered down at books that possessed knowledge of alchemy, only to find another barrier in his way. Always one of the church, one who would stop him, one who would impede the research. One day he managed to find a piece of knowledge and great alchemical genius that could be found in an old burned book of Curr. Though he could not make gold, he was able to find that there was a separation of the fundamental particles of the world around him through this book. It had been hidden from him and locked away in the back cellar of a library—a key stolen from the shopkeeper. As he learned from this book (down to the title, this book has been lost to time and all known copies destroyed), he smiled seeing results in his experiment and, with that, was convinced that those who had knowledge of Curr magicks no doubt could potentially provide the knowledge he sought. "Stick to your books, alchemist. Great danger will befall you should you fall down this path." sternly told by the deacons of Lles. Unimpressed by the threats of the church, he made a pilgrimage to the west to make his way to the Curr Ruins west of the Gragoran to learn the unknown magicks of Curr. It is believed that, at this time, his mind left him somewhere during that time. Then came a fateful day when he learned that he would need a natural born as a reagent. Many wouldn't follow, and even Inierm normally wouldn't, yet the Inierm who had great success in his lifetime was no more, and the mind of Inierm had been corrupted for many cert. Inierm went to the neighboring town of Eben and located a local natural born by the name of Asan, homeless as far as he could see, only to find he was the child of Jasurr, a local elven smith of great wealth. When it was eventually discovered what Inierm had done, he was taken to a court to answer for his crimes. Yet as they questioned him on the trial, they found he had continuously talked with himself. The judge would attempt to gain the attention of Inierm Ganjuricts to little or no avail. So according to his sentence, he would live his life out in the Insane Asylum of Vuuhkrai, afflicted with a great illness of the mind that healers could not resolve. Inierm was intended to rot in the Insane Asylum. Inierm Ganjurict's entry as of 10902C, 5, Aan (Could also be Ban, as an A and a B are in the same spot): "Don't you want the knowledge, Inierm? Certainly I do. I've worked a great deal. But then why did they keep you here, away from your books? They are just making sure we do not hurt ourselves, you see. Don't you know, they wish to strip you of your knowledge? No. I cannot believe this. You killed them. No, you did. I cannot believe you would hold me to killing them when you did! I am not the one who saw blood that went as far as your forearm my dear Inierm. The guard were no less than pleased to see a mere 12 cert elven child. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You did this. Now we are stuck here, together. Shut up, shut up..." Inierm Ganjurict's entry as of 10902C, 5, Jan: "Look, they took another book away. Do you see? I told you. This place is huge; you could take it for yourself. Do you see these dotards wobbling as they walk? They are barely alive. Look at your fingers; just with your fingers, you can. No, not again. Not again. Maybe, if we're nice, we could get more books and learn the effects of alchemy; they will see the bars become shards of gold, just as we've done before. You need me. I don't need you. Fuck you. Oh, cmon. You are so naive. How could you have gotten as far as you have without me? You don't think that. Certainly not; I'm sorry..." This passage focused on various alchemical experiments made by Inierm in the past. Inierm Ganjurict's entry as of 10904C, 7, Aan: "They know you killed him. No, they don't. They thought he died of poison; how could they know I got a hold of poison? They know of the cake, you fool. But you have the keys now. Now you are the keyholder. Maybe some others can help you, and when they do, you get them too. Easy. One at a time, don't get too excited, Inierm. In due time." And so in the modern age, he used the insane asylum captives as his avatars to do his bidding, and almost all inmates died. His existence was not known to have done this, save for adventurers of the modern age to stop him.

How Time Works

C is indication of a Cert. A cert is like a year, but does not equal to a year. There are 44 weeks to a cert. A week is 5 days. A day is 30 multa. A multa is the equivalent of an hour, but an multa does not represent an hour in earth time. 15 multa is about 10 hours. 1.5 multa to an hour. Which means an hour is .6667 multa. There are 30 multas in a day. Sunrise begins at 2 multa. Afternoon is at 10 multa. Sunset is at 17 multa. A night begins at 17 multa. It proceeds through 30 multa and begins from 1-2 multa. A day in Niseb is only 20 hours. People generally go to sleep around 22 multa. People wake up at 2 multa. People stay awake for roughly 13.33334 hours. People are asleep 6.66667 hours. A cert is 183.33333 days Each day of the week is as follows: Aan (represented by a solid circle) ● Gan (represented by an empty circle) ○ Ban (represented by a solid triangle) ▲ Jan (represented by an empty triangle) ∆ Lan (represented by a solid square) ⯀

The Timeline

The time before times: The nothing is looped to create countless planes. The beginning. The creation of the plane of lands, the Alexandrite. Plane of the ruby and plane of the sapphire was also created from the nothing. Creation of The Trine. The creation of the waters, the rivers. Creation of the beasts and the crawling things of the land. Magus is born and died. 0C: Age of the connection to The Trine: Universe, the plane of Opal: Animal Sapien, Warrior, Human. Gier, Plane of tanzanite: Magi Quaol, Plane of tourmalene: Elve, Forest Imp Semra, Plane of citrine: Birdkhan, Icanim 20C: Hell, Plane of ruby: Unpossessed Demon and the Demons come to the world. Dragons come to the world. 210C: Creation of angels and totema 210C: Creation of other gods to assist Lord of Winds and Lord of Flames including May-she-i, Curr, Lles (Dilitus). 220C: Creation of Chaos Falls with assistance of Totema to build the mountain and the gate. 240C: Toteman gates erected across the land. 300C: Sealing way of the demons through the totema. 402C, week of 22, ▲ (Ban): Aarkmonkchule is born. 483C: Aarkmonkchule becomes powerful enough to challenge the dieties with magus. 502C, week of 22, ▲ (Ban): Aarkmonkchule denies death. May-she-i is incapable of stopping the might of Aarkmonkchule for he had more magus than her. 633C, week of 12, ● (Aan): Shirra is born. 654C, Week of 15, ▲ (Ban): Shirra floats the lands in the southern province, creates an area of space and the permanent transport. 655C, week of 9, ∆ (Jan): Shirra finishes enchanting all 3 lakes with her Magic. 660C: Shirra finalizes the creation of the spires of Mystonia to help with navigation and movement of Magus. 733C, week of 12, ● (Aan): Shirra passes to the plane of sapphire out of acceptance of her fate in Shirra Mountains, Magus crystal erected in her honor above. 2232C, Week or 40, ⯀ (Lan): Pact of the Tegumentum to the the Human King of Ucca Madan, Jesaphen. 5502C, Week of 40, ⯀ (Lan): Pact of the Tegumentum ends with the lineage of Ucca Madan, Alaric XVI. 8402C: Armagheddon comes. 8416C: Aarkmonkchule is faded. 8425C: The last Mace of God appears in Al-Nuraga 9420C: Glaciesa comes from Chaos Falls gate and settles. 9502C, week of 43, ∆ (Jan): War enacted with Tacht Island. Niir-ahn's story begins. 9543C, week of 12, ○ (Gan): War of Tacht Island ongoing, though created separation of Tacht. 9610C: Flammatus rises and calls the world Niseb. 10412C: Trainers Arena is built 10854C: Uren of the Magus enters in quest to harness the power of Magus. 10904C: Modern day