Hello Everyone Lord Baldrith here! This is an awesome story written by Apollox Evanheart, spoken in a weary and distressed voice. It’s been a while since I did one! Hope you enjoy!
The Darkness of Knight by Apollox Evanheart
Music: Akiam Piano by Snabisch
I am but a man
A warrior trapped inside this armor
A Noble Knight by evening
But my voices are not getting calmer
A fire burns inside
A feeling I have to prove myself
If I didnt fight for loyalty and respect
Id probably fight in the depths of hell
This rage has a gripping hold
I keep on falling
The ale drowns the voices
That keeps on calling
The end to this all
Seems to be a mystery
Another day of sunrise
Is another day of misery
I use to care
I use to have a heart
I use to be full of laughter
Now the happiness has grown dark
How could something so big
Be so empty
A void like a plague
I need no sympathy
Another day I suit up
Another day I’m scorned
I have battle scars on my body
Like I’ve laid in a thousand thorns
I have a job to do
I have a plan
A warrior trapped inside this armor
I am but a man.
Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the next chapter of this wonderful saga by Elgarion De’Kahli. It is entitled
The Second Era
The Age of the Warring Cities Begins… On Moonandai, the 9th of Apru, the Month of the Farmer, the Life-Giving Season of Sprengh, in the Lingering Night A New Era Began
Background music is by Smartsound.
In the turbulent Second Era of New Britannia, the Warlords of all the kingdoms ravaged the lands, causing mayhem throughout the recently resettled world above their former cavernous homes. This age was a darkened time starved for a uniting strength; the Titans had yet to spread their blessings of love, courage and truth, and the peoples were lost without the mysterious guidance of The Oracle which, in time, would steer many to their elusive destinies. As the scales weighed heavily towards Chaos, it became a lost world–a world without Virtue, and it was the era in which The Obsidian Eye was born.
To what purpose the book stole into the meager farm boy’s hands, the young one did not know, or perhaps simply did not remember. One’s fate oft is written without the practicalities of reason. What was, is. What is, will be, and what will be, is foretold. Some say the boy stole the libram, but many theologians argue fate handed him this bounty, for no other choice was offered to him. One cannot deny their destiny. So by that right, the book was always his. This volume of small metallic pages contained the words of Sariah the Blind. The message bestowed clarity where there was confusion. The boy’s path was aligned to his true course. As he grew, so did his focus and resolve. With each passing year, the boy became the man, and the man became a scholar, a grand sorcerer, and then, Master to the Obsidian Cabal. He was to become, The Obsidian Eye.
In this time of utter turmoil, the world was ripe for conquest. The Warlords would never guess what would befall them. As they were distracted by their greed and territorial squabbles, the power of the Obsidian Eye thrived unabated. His reach stretched across the lands as dark sorcerers bowed into his service. His army was forming, and the world would soon know its conquerer and Master.
The Prophecy of the Obsidian Eye
The world is fallen; fallen into chaos.
Men reached up in anger and shattered the sky.
Its blackness falls to earth like a rain of dark glass;
The ordered customs and rows of society are shattered.
All men stumble
in the blinding light of a blood red dawn.
Sightless who will not see.
Deaf to the truth they will not hear.
Mewing and wailing of and for themselves.
They kill with discordant and untamed shouts
The melodic order of their better selves.
Yet from the Obsidians’ fall shall arise
Seen only by the ordered Eye
The blade which shall render order in their midst;
Silence the voices who screech outside the ordered tune;
Darken the eyes of unwelcome vision;
And bring one vision, one voice, one song
To a world reborn in perfect twilight.
Supreme and ordered once more in its flawlessness.
Of one thought and purpose born and died.
Until only the night remains.
Hello everyone! Here’s what we have for you in this week’s edition of Update of the Avatar! I’m going it alone this week, Asclepius has computer troubles, wish him luck on a speedy recover of technology!
The Making of Shores of Malice – Part 2
Shooter Jennings’ In-Game Worldwide Premier of New Album “Countach”
Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with another wonderful story from Elgarion De’Kahli. It is entitled
The First Era: The Age of Survival
Background music is by Smartsound
On Moonandai, the 2nd of Janus, the Month of Daedalus, the Chilling Season of Wentru, in the Waking Dawn A New Era Began
As the tearing winds of the great storm lessened, a decade had passed before the choking ash had finally settled into a smothering blanket upon the once bountiful lands of New Britannia. The world was torn asunder. The fall of the moon shards forced the desperate survivors of the great Cataclysm to seek shelter, oft into the treacherous underworld beneath their former homes. In rushed refuge, most took nothing save their families and what meager belongings were gathered in frantic haste and which could be carried easily into these darkened mazes below. The fortunate brought sources of light, but even as those eventually expired, the torchbearers were left as helpless as the many who took no light into the blackness; ultimately, all were unprepared for what would become of them. Befuddled wizards, once powerful and adept in the ancient incantations of their forefathers, now spoke in stutters as they attempted to recite even a most novice of spells… light. When the spell singers took to the depths, they burdened themselves with tomes and spell books, most of which, in the coming years were simply cast away into the campfires for mere warmth as their runic inscribed pages became valueless with the waning magic in the world.
As the years slipped by, the survivors hid from the death above, yet countless refugees met the dealer’s scythe in other ways. Whether it be illness from the damp, despair of the darkness, or the horrors of the deep, many looked upon death’s embrace as a release from that detestable existence. So many societies formed from these times. Former enemies became companions as they worked together to survive, and hatred often ensued from former friends which now had reason to compete for resources. In some caverns, inspiring leaders emerged who rallied their underworlds to greatness and prosperity. Other communities languished, only surviving in the most meager sense, barely reaching what some have called The First Dawn or The Day of Life–when the ash clouds first parted and the nourishing light of the sun once again cast its warmth upon the dying lands.
In the following decades, some more hesitant than others, these underworld communities emerged to take in the light. They found their former world in ruin. The greatest of cities had crumbled under the Shard Fall, and most of the lands were unrecognizable. Handfuls of these under-dwellers remained beneath in the sheltering dark, finding the life in the caverns preferable to the ones of their surface dwelling forefathers. Most began to rebuild in the realms above. Settlements became villages which became towns… and towns, cities. Although nothing shone in comparison to the heavenly spires of stone from before The Fall, grand cities did come to evolve, and with them, would-be kings or warlords arose to power. For as the lands above healed, resources were still scarce. As the peoples spread their ambitious wings, their borders grew then eventually overlapped. It wasn’t long before these warlords took to arms to defend their claims.
Also of note during this age, it was commonly believed the Titans fled to New Britannia, taking shelter from a calamity which beset their home in another world. Albeit there are many rumors and beliefs as to the true origin of the Titans, this one dominant theory heralds an overwhelming realization: The Fall was not just of this world, but of many. As the moon shards fell upon the lands of New Britannia, other worlds also endured the horrors of their own apocalypse. Could this be true of the Titans? That they were mere survivors of another world’s end? Countless texts and authors have penned many stories of the worlds from beyond the Rift. What transpired upon each… only the Outlanders know of this. With the return of the Avatars, knowledge of the Falls of many worlds is now only just becoming known.
Within this age, as the last dab of ink was inscribed upon the text, Lamentation of the Fall, by Sariah the Blind, a history of these trying times was forever recorded for the generations to come. Many a scholar has attempted the interpretation, but almost all came to the same realization. She wrote of a bright truth. This truth could be seen as the survivors looked upon their past in reflection, and as they recounted their years beneath in the maddening darkness below. Whatever might have caused The Fall was behind them. What they had endured had changed them. And now, what lay ahead was their time of redemption.