Large and powerful, the Yeaken are a beast of burden to be reckoned with. While very domesticated, the Yeaken have dangerous wild cousins.
Ka’tshar are very similar to ants with one exception. They are about 6" long.
In a time when magic was more plentiful and times more disturbed with war, these items were created to protect those in power but ultimately used for assassination attempts. A King had five chokers commissioned for his family in time of great need. He paid handsomely for these chokers as they were to keep his family safe if war was brought to their doorstep.One of which was used on the King and his own family.
“To what extent in war when killing the enemy is not enough? When the way you kill is considered for the better, yet seems wrong and bound to threaten the souls of those responsible with damnation? When you kill your enemy but use their spirits to infiltrate their old homes only to kill more of their kin. There is a saying, treat your friends and family with love, but treat your enemy with compassion.
What is left sacred, when humans can murder our kin and parade around in our homes looking like us? For that, let the mountains fall on their spirits and deny them passage to the Hidden Valley I tell you, there is no compassion in what they do. This is not war, it is mass murder. The Gods will cry before this is finished.”
Maugmura - General Elite of the Fifth Column of Stone
Have you or anyone you know ever been accused of a crime you didn’t commit? Been sent to the Hangman knowing you were innocent? Have you ever welcomed the noose to prove it?
A young warrior turned warlord with a heart to satify his people’s needs. Yet every golden hero has an obsidian heart waiting to be released.
The Demon gates are all hidden from prying eyes, either under mountains or lost within their vast chasms. In fortresses hidden by magic, or guarded by the unknowing. A single key, if found, will open only a specific gate. However, directions to the gates location are inscribed on each key in a demonic script. Only those loyal to Caedmon, or can understand the ancient written language of the Demon’s are able to read it.
The gates are massive stone doorways standing roughly thirty feet in height and twenty feet wide and made of black granite or onyx, with scenes of a demonic horde flooding through the gate as a wave through a cistern. Horrific images of murder and unspeakable acts toward the mortal races also adorn the doors.
The peaceful sounds of mid afternoon were brutaly interupted by the swears and jeers of a fight erupting on the edge of the market near an alleyway. Seeing three armored humans fighting a young boy, the fight seems a bit unfair. Not seeing anyone rushing to the aid of the elf and with no watch in sight, the elf doesn’t seem to have a chance. Cries of thief echo from the lips of the three humans.
Born of honor. Raised with trust. Died with murder. Reborn with vengence. Mourning a great loss, and grim in his determination to see that loss is repaired. Mourngrymn walks a lonely road of vengence.
A city lost in time. A city in ruins. Knowledge was they key staple in the city until mortals believed they were smarter than the Gods.
Blackrose Academy was built as a center for anyone wanting to learn. It houses some of the most intelligent and brilliant minds of its time. People would come from all around to study magic, languages, warfare and tactics, among other things. But that has changed.
An Amber Rose is a very unique flower that only grows every five years. It is amber is color and seems to radiate with a sheen of energy. It’s properties are sought after by anyone who knows of the rare flower.
In the far reaches of a long-lost wilderness, there stands a forgotten town inhabited only by children. Though they appear normal enough, their eyes burn with madness, and they speak in a foreign, archaic tongue. Nearly a millenia ago, a powerful spell had gone awry, or maybe it had succeeded - in any case, it ended up blessing, or cursing, an entire generation of children with agelessness. However, as the centuries passed, the children's parents grew old and died, the buildings of the town crumbled to earth, and even the civilization itself faded into history, becoming lost to time. All that remained were the children, driven mad by the psychological toll of living for hundreds of years beyond their age. In time, most children died, killed off by fighting amongst themselves, while many others were driven to suicide. Only a small handful remain, and they are a strange people indeed.