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The time of the Dark One has passed, ended by the heroism of Raducan, now renowned as both damnor and savior of this new age. However, there is a new threat looming over Sylfe. The Dark One left his taint on the lifestream, the magical force that connects all living things and blankets the entirety of Sylfe.

The lattice has fallen into the hands of the deranged sorceror Merun Al'Caar, who believes he is a God. Using this absolute power over the inhabitants of Sylfe, he has solidified humanity's dominance over the races of the Old Age. Under the misguidance of his "Triune Church," mankind and a few converts from elder races are converting the lands into what they see as "paradise" while paving the way for Merun's transcension of his human body.

In the sky, the Grim Moon looms over the lands, a sign of the Convergence, a sign of the coming end of times. Just what role the denizens of Sylfe will play in this coming end is yet unclear.
In the ravaged world of Ehvin, an ancient malevolence is once again stirring. The Maelstrom, an unnatural storm born from warring energies left behind by Ehvin's cataclysmic past is beginning to make itself manifest again. In the shadow of Ehvin's rifts, the Epimandu, vile creatures with even viler intentions are beginning to rouse from their sleep.

The Reven are growing restless and they are putting out the call for even more Spark bearers, creatures born with a natural affinity for magic. The Reven are beings of great power, but this power came at a price, they could not leave the rifts unless they found their bonded partners who can only be individuals carrying sparks. These Reven are the polar opposite of the Epimandu, they are as much a cause for the Maelstrom as they are a solution for it.

The Grim Moon also casts its shadow over Ehvin and the Convergence is doing nothing to aid in the quelling of the unnatural tempest. The tides are changing and chaos is on the horizon.
Ëthan was once a land of divine beauty, where the cycle of nature was gracefully long, and each season could take more than two decades. Ruled by the Ayalla, special beings chosen among the mortals, the harmony of this seasons lasted through millenia, and could run forever... if it wasn't the sin of selfishness. The fear of death, the eminence of oblivion, can be too much, even for the divine entities. This is the dark point, when even the best intentions, dreams and feelings, can be corrupted. Even the power of love...

After centuries under the power of an endless Winter, mortals are reuniting to fight back the tyranny; a strugle between eternity and mortality. Could they cultivate generosity enough to fight the egotism, or are they just trying to fulfill their own desire? Who is the new avatar of order...or chaos?

This is a roleplay by Kyrion. Visit the OOC at: Ëthan: The Ayalla War


 

 Dealings in the Council of Avalhein

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Malkuthe Highwind
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Malkuthe Highwind


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Join date : 2009-06-29

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PostSubject: Dealings in the Council of Avalhein   Dealings in the Council of Avalhein I_icon_minitimeFri May 28, 2010 6:55 am

Dealings in the Council of Avalhein...

Chapter 1

A sliver of the golden ball shone above the horizon, barely enough to illuminate the landscape. The first rays of the sun’s light already streaked across the grassy plains of Malleithen, reflecting on the golden paved streets of the city in the distance. Buildings that stood on foundations of solid gold glinted in the early morning light and they cast a brazen glow upon the surrounding flatlands.

The streets were just beginning to bustle. Ceree slowly began streaming into the alleyways, their half-elven, half-draconic quadripedal bodies flowed along the streets gracefully. An atmosphere of hushed conversation hung over the paths that crisscrossed the golden city. “I can’t even sleep without fearing that something will carry me off in the dark.” said one of the Ceree passing by, the four thin appendages surrounding her head with feathers on their ends were raised in agitation.

“Sister, your alerons, put them down.” said the other Ceree’s companion.

One Ceree stood out above the rest, she wore a cloak that covered her back and the cowl was drawn over her head. She heard whispers around her and she listened attentively. “If only he wasn’t stirring, it would be much more comfortable walking in these streets especially now that those blasted hawkers don’t plague them…” said one storm gray Ceree beside her. She was elbowed forcefully off her way and she considered lashing out with her alerons, but the other had the look of nobility and harming a noble was more trouble than it was worth.

“It do be true sister. It do be true. Do no get me to start on those accursed pink-skins.” Said the noble’s companion in the accents of one well immersed in the guild of foreign ties. Even that one elbowed past the Ceree under the cowl and she glowered indignantly.

The one under the cowl gave a start when she found herself in front of a massive golden pedestal in a massive square. The sun was well over the horizon now and it illuminated the statue above the plinth. “This is a statue of the first purple Ceree, Malkknrre. He currently leads the Avalhein council. You would do well to remember his name, children.” The elderly voice drifted across the buzz of conversation to the hooded Ceree.

The old female smiled at her as she passed, leading a group of ecstatic youngsters behind her. One of those, a blue Ceree with bulging green eyes looked at her with innocent playfulness and tugged at her cloak. The hooded one looked at her fondly and the pulled her cloak from the child’s grasp and then shooing her towards the other youngsters.

She took the entire square into her gaze and she stalked over to a large building with a glittering dome made from colored glass. She walked up the steps, along with elves among others. Individuals of other races streamed up from the apartments set for them.

As she strode into the building, her world spun and a vivid memory surfaced in her mind. ”A nick was all it took…” She shook her head wildly to clear it, but the memory lingered.

She flowed into one of the rooms along the corridor. She knew it well enough. Once inside she dropped her cloak and the inhabitant of the room gave a visible start.

“Councilwoman Geirrha?” said the other Ceree in amazement. “But, you’ve been gone for fifteen years, why return now?”

“Elder Mal’ham Kimaha, that is not for you to know. What is this I hear of someone stirring?” The Ceree named Geirrha asked with cocern painted on her face.

“Geirrha, the Dark One is writhing free of his prison.” said Kimaha, and she looked around, as though feeling eyes watching her.

“Really, now?” said Geirrha pleasantly.

”A nick was all it took to draw blood…”
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