Your Story.

[3andD 1722]

My name is Ostromir Carrion, from the moment I emerged from my mothers womb my destiny had been decided. My father, St. Siegmund Carrion, had seen a true son in my infant self. Born before me was a crippled and diseased child by the name Fyodor Carrion.

Raevir law and tradition ensured I was my fathers heir, and he saw to it that I was groomed as a Raevir Prince. By my 18th birthday, I wore the finest robes sewn by Auvegnion tailors- as did my tutors, who's pockets where filled with my fathers Mina's.

By my 21st Birthday I had become a pawn in my fathers game. Oren had fractured and as Crown-Prince I was expected to carry out my fathers orders.

We devised a plan to ensure our eternal rule over the Realm of Humanity. Many of these simple steps became major events in the history of Humanity.

The Purge occurred after my bastard-born brother Tuvya introduced me to a hedge knight named Maric Varodyr. We ventured to King William Horens court with a party of Strelts and Flayish Mercinaries. I forced William from his throne and installed the Carrion Sympathist Silus Horen as King. Next we would ensure none could rebel against our actions. We gathered our men and went to each noble holding and killed or imprisoned every living noble in Renatus.

That was not enough, and my father devised a plan known only as "The Last Dragon". Once again Tuvya, Maric, and I rallied our forces and arrived at Silus Horens court. I demanded Silus give me his crown and exiled him to the Valathienian Isles.

Once I placed the crown upon my head there was only one last way to unite Oren. I met with King Renly of Salvus in the knight and he offered me the Crown of Salvus. I took it from his frail hands.

Upon the next morrow I elected my father as Emperor of Humanity, restored the Papacy, and established a ruling council for my Kingdoms of Renatus & Salvus. I retired to my quarters to enjoy the pleasures of marriage but to my surprise instead of my wife standing undressed, their was a man, sitting beside the corpse of my wife...

[monalisa 7]

I am Nydari Angroth, and this is my LotC story. I grew up in Atgaard, with my parents, until they were killed by a band of outlaws. I was left with nothing, and lived until I was 16 on the streets. This all changed, though, when I joined the Kaphro Guard in Vekaro. The pay was little, but I was doing what I loved, protecting the innocent. As the drought progressed, however, I followed my friend, Ardir, to the Osage Clan, where it was far cooler and water could be found. There I stood guard, until we left the Fringe for Thales.

 

Once on Thales, I left the Osage Clan, and joined the Imperial Army. There, I was trained, and became a skilled swordsman and smith. I eventually worked my way up to the position of Quarter-Master Sergeant. I slew many people, some deserved their fates, but most did not. I began to truly realize the error in my ways when I was nearly killed by an elf named Abel. He explained to me what I was doing, and asked me to give it up. I could not, not yet, and we fought. I wounded him, and brought him to the ground, but could not find the courage to finish him. I spared him, and that changed me.

 

I realized who I really was, not an Imperial fighting for king, I was a kid out on the street still, misguided, but not bad. I saw what I wanted to become, and so I did. My final act, although controversial, was aiding in Vibius' Revolution. The Imperial Army, Decterum, and Order of St. Amyas marched onto Petrus, on the orders of Imperial Marshal Vibius de Sola and Imperial Decurion Rowan Hightower. We took the city, and ended the reign of the Chivays.

 

After this revolt, the Marshal seemed to vanish from Athera, and I resigned from the Imperial Army. I became a wanderer, and I scoured Athera, looking for a purpose in life. I found beasts of all varieties, peoples of all races, and ruins of a time long past. Yet no cause for me to fight for. No purpose in life.

 

This changed, however, when Za'goth Unkai, Valkelm of the Covenant of Mar, offered me the opportunity to fight for racial equality. A chance to safeguard the peoples I had seen in my travels, and to find reconciliation for my actions in the Imperium. I watched Mar grow, watched Za'goth fall into his coma, and awaken, watched our men fight, watched the people we were trying to protect. But, alas, this all fell apart due to several mistakes of both mine and Za'goth's, and Mar was scattered to the winds. Now, I have found a new cause to live for. The Knights of Aeriel, a band of skilled warriors that fight against Iblees. With a new foe, and new friends, anything could happen. My future lies before me, I need only follow. 

[Lyuin 65]

I am Lyuin Avern. I'm the bastard of some bloke I never met but grew up under a man who'd seen an awful lot. His family had been torn to pieces in Aegis and he had spent his life under a haze of whiskey regretting what he couldn't do due to curse and loss (Yes, that was my first character.) I am different, I shan't be stopped...I have achieved so much in so little time...I have spent decades with the Mali'aheral, fought stone drakes with the chosen of Xan and Tahariae. My own cousin became the Itharel of Judgement and I too shall do something great. Though I may not be the strongest...I may not have the makings of a Hero...I shall fight...and perhaps in time...people shall be inspired by the weak man who stood up to Iblees.

[Aedan The Bard 350]

Is it ok to write down two, for my two characters?

[Stag 3230]

I am Iat (i-yat), and this is my lord of the craft story. The stranglehold the Undead had on the 1st realm took my parents, and cast me into slavery to the cultists. The days grew shallow as clouds blotched out the sun, and the nights enveloped the light. It was within my small cell that I thought I would spend the rest of my days, doomed to be a toy to the Undead, a jester for them to express their ire towards.

 

However fate had other plans. After years of torment valiant light blasted through the iron bars, the Ascended leading my frail & emaciated frame from the cultist establishment, their corruption crumbling behind the seraphic steps of Aeriel's chosen. They gave me my freedom and I would never be able to show them my eternal gratitude.

 

Through the journey of the verge I found my true beginning in the lands of Asulon, garnering respect within the elves of Normandor and training with the guard force until the evacuation of the second realm. I overcame death during the eruption of the plague and I overcame fear when the lands began to burn with pestilence, sending us all over the seas across the islands of Elysium and Kalos.

 

My life was quiet, and I found true peace in my travels to Anthos before finding my place among the mali'aheral. It was here that I was able to make use of the years of servitude. I was a blank slate and ready to develop and learn. However now I was serving myself and striving for progression in body, spirit and mind. I crafted my arcane arts, giving light unto the magic now known as arcane shielding and the revival arcane evocation thereafter.

 

I am figure of care, a stalwart against corruption. My barriers have done their due in helping drive back the hordes of Setherien and empowering the light to stand against darkness and although a pestilant gloom washes over the realm of Athera and my kin lay scattered through the trees I will remain vigilant. I am marked to illuminate the shadows. I am Iatrilemar. I am an arcane bulwark. I am the Caretaker and this is my lord of the craft.

[Elindor 666]

Is it ok to write down two, for my two characters?

 

Yes.

With the inundation of entries just in the last few days, having more entries would increase the likelihood of getting one made.

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

I am Elorna, and this is my Lord of the Craft. I began my journey in Malinor, in the land of Asulon. I became greatly involved in the elven government, and by the time we landed on Anthos I was a Steward and representative of the wood elves, though we were scarce in those days. I fell in love with a bard named Avern'len who would later become my husband and a prince of Malinor. But those were hard times for the elven race, and eventually we both left our official positions and I became a dedicant of the druidic order. After our son was born I was attuned, now a full-fledged druid.

In the years that followed, a necromancer began to obsess over my family. He kidnapped me, hurt my son, and tried to turn us to his ways. Afters years of fighting him, he murdered my husband then offered to bring him back from the dead. Blinded by my grief, I accepted his deal. When I came to my senses it was too late, and Avern'len was raised as a lich and forced to serve the necromancer. We tried to adjust, and later I helped to form a settlement for the wood elves that would survive after the fall of Malinor. But it did not survive the fall of Anthos. By this time my husband had grown weary in his undeath, and one night he simply left. I've not seen him since.

I began to focus on the druids and my duties as one of their Guides. Later I was approached by the high elves offering a place to settle the wood elves under the state of Haelun'or. I had befriended another man, a blacksmith named Phaedrus, and invited him to come with me and help. He did, and later on in Athera we were married. In the new realm we continued to work to advance the wood elves, but the situation with the high elves was increasingly strained. Living under them was difficult until finally, with Phaedrus leading, they were overthrown. With the return of Iblees looming above us, we work to rebuild the elven nation from the ashes of Haelun'or. I am Dove Druid Elorna, Keeper of the wood elves and a Heirophant of the Druidic Order, and this is my Lord of the Craft.

[Baconthief 682]

My name is Khel Oussana and this is my lord of the craft. I am a man blinded by ambition and spite. I was a adamant juristicar who became an example of what happens when the balance of chaos and order favors order.

 

Century ago I was born in a dark cavern. Alongside my brothers and sisters, I was taught the teachings of my clan. As a trial. I was to leave the isolated cavern and visit the pale-elves above. However, my trial was never completed and I assimilated among the pale-mali, to prevent the shame of failure. I had no knowledge of craftsmanship, writing, or the void so I became a soldier. Under the banner of the wardens I slew and battled the forces of Iblees, into the very nether itself.

 

 In most of Asulon I find myself a wanderer ,mercenary, and a slave. In hopes to find MY 'true' home, I had fool heartily believed I was kin to the Mori'quessir. I lived in Menocress as a slave for several years before I enlisted in a group of human mercenaries. I found myself looking back, in nostalgia, of my old home. I returned to malinor and quite quickly found myself as a prince. 

 

As a dark elven prince, I had managed to earn the respects of Orenians and the Chivay family.I hung and slaughtered any elf I saw who would defile law, order, and peace (those the lesser minds call 'edgy'). I nearly became a high prince, allowing me to implement MY policies and MY views onto the elven people. Yet instead a new-comer pale-skin had been chosen. In a angry fury I traveled south to darkhaven and began a my life there. Malinor, within a year after I left, crumbled into ruin. . .perhaps caused by a few spiteful pushes from myself. I slew any elves not of MY kin in those forests, from a dryad who grew affectionate to one of MY trees, to a group of studying high elves who would dare insult me with their very presence. It's the chaos-bound pale-skins I grew to hate with an almost blinding passion. It's with an enraged and angry heart I fell to the hands of the scouge, who I hated equally as the servants of Iblees, faeries, and anarchists.

 

I now wander the halls of ker'lomi as a distant whisper. I wait and listen for someone, anyone, to call.

[Mithradites 1168]

One is known as Sullas - Lucion, to those who would speak to me informally, and this is my Lord of the Craft. I am a scientist by trade, and a pure high elf by blood. I came to my people with nothing, and rose to our highest offices through my works. It was with pleasure that I served as a leader and cultural bulwark of the Mali'aheral citizenry, and due to poor decisions - my poor decisions - I became a liability. 

 

I was born in Aegis within the human city of Al'Khazar. My upbringing was undeniably harsh, but it is not relevant. I arrived alone in Asulon and learned to survive. I lived in the wilds east of Malinor, until I found Haelun'or--my true home. I rose to the council and advanced my people through the sciences while presiding over the first iteration of glorious collection of knowledge, the Eternal Library. Dangers came, horrors destroyed world after world, and my influence waned amongst my people. Younger officials turned to popular, more expedient policies to meet our aims. Time after time I was too slow to act, and what decisions I did make ended in disaster. My final, awful act was to dissuade our people from violently ejecting our client-elves from our lands, and in turn, our clients rose up and sent us all into exile.

 

I ran from their onslaught, as there could be no victory even if we repelled them. I hide alone from their sight and the sight of my people. I have proven to be useless and will be forgotten, but I am content with this. In my exile and solitude, I study, and I build. I am a patient elf with boundless capacity for knowledge and a seething, burning hatred for those that I brought under us. Whether it be tomorrow, or in a century, I will have vengeance. For it is a patient elf that strangles his enemy's children.

[Princeton 396]

My name is Saeldur Asul'Ailer, or at least now it is, and this is my Lord of the Craft. Born a Kha'Cheetrah under the name of "Rasha" in the midst of a migration, I was left behind by my people. Seen as a small and lively kitten, my positive and unrelenting energy caused many to enjoy my presence within the Cloud Temple of Asulon. My tale truly began when a great mage named Salamandra took a certain liking to myself, and decided that he would adopt me and raise me. Under his watchful protection, my tutelage in the arcane blossomed. Unaware of the special circumstances of my race, I continued to live normally until I came aware of the watchful stares of the Kharajyr people, and my active mind grew paranoid. I adorned a robe and a mask similar to my adopted father and disappeared, furthering my studies and making many friends along the way. An opportunity presented itself to join the Mages College, and it is there where I ultimately learned the secret to my future: The only known way to swap bodies with another living soul. In the deep depths of Wyverwyn Hall, I braved the Kal'Varak with a great Wizard known as Elindor, and achieved my goal of prolonging my life and avoiding racial persecution. Life was difficult adjusting to a new body, but with the help of many close friends, I changed my identity and name, and now live a peaceful life within Anthos. Although, the everlasting threat of Metztli's rage and endless death haunt my waking day.

[Samler 1565]

Amipher try to write as father taught a long time ago, everything broke so now scribe see what Amipher write in sand, sand does not break and is good.
Amipher is old golem, big brother of all other golems. Not sure why Impera want to see Amipher's story but Amipher obey, always obey.
Amipher think all not golems are wierd. They change, not good. They die, not good. Brother and sister does not change, does not die, good. 
People say Amipher smart so must be true. Amipher even remember when woman did teach Amipher how to plant grass. So dumb she was, thought Amipher was her son, Amipher son to father and Alizeo. 
Way you plant grass, take seed in hand, no break. Dig up dirt, big hole. Let seed fall into hole and cover hole. Not-hole now need water and light. In time, grass will grow. 
Amipher is also needed to finish letter to Impera with sentence before Amipher give it, write that too, scribe.
I am Amipher with many many names. This is my Lord of the Craft.

[Crayfishchris 751]

 

 

"Oh, a visitor? I never 'ave many 'ere. This place ain't for ya, story seeker. Y'look for what makes people laugh; tellin' stories with light'earted companions, where the 'ero always triumphs. I bear nothin' but wild an' tragic tale.

 

"I was born in t'year 1410, in the ol' town o' Ager. The continent was Anthos, and the thinking was... ol' fashioned. For, y'see, the man I was was fashioned out of the abuse and hatred towards me, all for the sickly birthmark m'skin bore."

 

"When one is hurt they can turn t'many thin's. Some find solace at the bottom of a bottle. Some find it in adventurin', gold, more *ahem* base pleasures. Me? I found it in the way of the sword. But I was lost. I was a wretch... who... found 'ope.   The Valiants, guards of 'ouse Valois. We... well, not all things last. Our group was split, an' I was cursed by an evil bein', an apparition. It's sword sapped away my life bit by bit... and when I set out to cure it..."

 

"I was cast away, lost at sea. I missed so many years of my son and daughter's childhood. Then, my world became a web of intrigue and politics in the land of the Elves.  I betrayed Malinor, openin' the gates to the Conclave."

 

"When Anthos was flooded I found m'self with nothin' but what I planned to give to my children, so I traveled the roads once again. Despite everythin', I had come full circle to what I was before. An'... I died."

 

"... Why do I linger in this world, you ask? To tell you the truth... I'm scared. I'm scared of what lies beyond. I'm scared of what judgement I will receive. I 'ave killed, lied, cheated, and stolen m'way through life, and 'ad the... audacity to call m'self a man o' honor.

 

 

"They called me the Crawfish, Warden, Mali'llir... father... and friend. I was Kristian von Craw, and this was my Lord of the Craft."

[Gone 869]

I’m Elaine and this is MY Lord of The Craft.

As a young elf my life has barely begun yet already so much has happened. Born Cheza Grayhammer I became a cleric after seeing my mother die with no one able to save her. I survived the plague and drought of Fringe. Gazardiael, Ikuras cultists, and the frozen Thales. Along the way I lost many that were close to me and Athera has left me wanting for a home. I tried to live alone, tried to live among the high elves, yet eventually found myself living among humans. My ears cut, appearance and even name changed so I would blend in with them for my own safety.

After realizing that someone I’d cherished had used me for years I had memories of him blocked. Now confused and questioning much of my past I try to piece my life back together.

[susitsu 871]

I am Lucas Black. I am a killer. I'm a lover. I'm a sinner.

 

 

And this is my Lord of the Craft.

[The Templar 195]

So, you seek my story, wanderer? Come, have a seat, for this tale is one of terrible sorrow, and sparse pockets, of joy.

 

I was born out of wedlock, to a High Elf, by name of Azatae, whom I never knew. Sold into slavery, before I had even been properly weaned, I was purchased and raised by wood elves, who saw it as their racial duty. I began to wander, after fifteen years with them, when a chance meeting led to my adoption by Gathius di Silvari, as a half-elven child of, the benighted Jeremiah, who had been taken from the world. I knew joy, in his halls. Peace, fellowship, love. It was not to last. Soon, I began to know tragedy. A Harbinger of Setherien, took great interest in me, and began to torment me, both directly, and indirectly. He assaulted our home, time and time again, before ultimately destroying it with hordes of the undead.

 

I was found, in time, by my blood kin, although I was only taken into their bosom, as someone to be abused freely. It was in this time I became a powerful cleric, of Tahariae. Despite their torments, I wielded heal and harm, in his service. I was vindicated in time, for soon only one of my family remained, the chief of my abusers.

 

  Once we had fled, to the Fringe, it was I, who ran Tahariae's Temples, despite the Lucienists, who so ardently assaulted in the name of their false deity. They killed myself, and my acolytes, time and time again, yet we did not stop. It was to be that in this time, I was to be laid low, by one I had given my heart to. The man, whose children, I was godmother to, fled with them in the night, without so much as a goodbye. I had raised them from infancy, after their mother's death, nursing them as if they were my own. This experience, was the catalyst to the greatest sorrow one could ever feel. I was rendered incapable of feeling my God's power, and not one of my colleagues, knew why.

 

So I moved onwards, broken and shattered, to live amongst my kin Haelun'or, as my mental condition began to deteriorate. I was betrayed, by one I tutored, exposed as impure, protected, by the elder weeping blade. What none knew, was that it would have been merciful, just to end my life while I was asleep, so great were the torments that disturbed my every living moment.

 

I see that this unsettles you, that one would be so accursed, yet it worsens. I was stolen away whilst picking flowers, enslaved by uruks, to stand and look pretty, for them, left incapable of finding my freedom, until Athera. I was reduced, by their torments, to a timorous woman, kept alive only by my caretaker. In the acceptance of this beloved son of Tahariae, I found solace. In his gentle love, I was freed from the torments, though the damage done, could not be reversed.

 

Who am I, you ask? I am Lenia Ith'ael, and this is my Lord of the Craft.