squakhawk 7945 Popular Post Share Posted March 13, 2023 THE BIRTH OF THE MOUNTAIN Creation of Dragur The desolate and windswept lands of Aegis were left unfinished, with dull lumps of louring stone covering the continent en masse; touched by the deities who came before the mortal realm. Upon this decrepit world, the Daemon of Knowledge wandered on foot, teetering at the thought of his envisioned creations. As time passed, Dragur’s brooding left him in front of this untouched stone, one avoided by many of his brothers and sisters. It was a glorious mountain that overshadowed all others, covered in flakes of snow that illuminated the night sky. Dragur saw eminence in the mountain and fashioned it to be his first. He began carving into the stone like one would paint on a canvas, crafting overlapping scales that shimmered in the moonlight. With every night that passed, the mountain continued to change, before it could no longer be called a simple lump of stone. Talons that were overbearing, and wise eyes that were in lifeless sequence. Dragur knew that his first born would be the one to challenge his intellect, that of the sagacious deity of knowledge. The Dragon-God was filled with a pride unmatched by all of his other brothers and sisters. From his fingertips, powerful and lively energies permeated and scattered over the carved scales. An unfettered soul began to warp and give shape to something more powerful, to be suited for his magnificent creation. Eventually, this unmatched soul and all energies of life plunged itself into the would-be body of the firstborn. It gave colour to the dull creation, causing the master sculpture to become vibrant. Slowly, the mountain began to move, causing seismic waves to overpower the nearby land. Dragur did not know he could feel awe, but excitement invigorated this simple movement of stone. Azdromoth opened his eyes for the very first time, staring at the world from above all others. He grasped the nearby mountains with his formidable claws and took in all the depth of beauty that surrounded him. With stretched, beating wings, the firstborn took flight. Dragur could only watch, like a father gazing at his child's first steps. The nights were filled with knowledgeable conversations, as Dragur taught his most favoured son about the winding roots and the clouds that covered the skies. The breadth of the world was edified by the Dragon-God, who did not withhold insight from the Archdragaar about the nature of creation. However, the cunning Azdromoth coveted the wisdom of those aside from his divine father. Azdromoth made flight across the world, his journey for knowledge being paramount to his worldly desires. Dragur eventually fashioned more bristling souls to cover the world that would become brothers and sisters of the Archdragaar, however, none could compare to his might. The dragon-king filled his lexicon with ancient knowledge gathered from his flight, sprawled across the pages in a runic tongue of high draconic. He was the chiefest of his siblings in size and knowledge and wore the love of his divine father and siblings as a shawl upon his winding neck. THE PACT OF HOREN The First War As the lands of Aegis were filled by the children of the blessed four, the sons and daughters of Dragur made agreements with the covenant of man. For that reason, the votary of man began to raise banners with symbols of great dragons. Azdromoth, too, was interested in the world of man; they created mechanisms that had different purposes and decorated their homes with curious beauty. The ingenuity and resilience of descendants intrigued him the most. However, outside of learning about them, he did not incline to make any specific pact or deal. In the corners of the continent, a war between the gods brewed. Azdromoth loved the descendant races and the knowledge they held, and saw the Archdaemon as a foe who wished to trample on the beauty of mortals. He did not wish to see the end of man, and so asked of his brothers and sisters to protect them. The Archdaemon, Iblees, saw a great opportunity when it came to the Dragon-God. He craved for the creations of Dragur, that of his blessed children. The dragonkin were perfect souls; absolute weapons that would shift the tides of war. In order to gain this advantage, Iblees went for the Daemon himself. Upon the summit of a bubbling volcano, Azdromoth came like a storm of thunder, hoping to save his divine father. Iblees’s estranged energies of ruin trickled out from the peak of the volcano, and chained the body of the Archdragaar. It began to poison his beautiful scales, darkening them to match the Deceiver. A pained roar escaped the mouth of the corrupted dragon-king, his mind becoming warped by tools of evil, chaos and despair. The bright radiance of his eyes were now matched by darkness, though it kept a hold of his brilliance and wisdom. Dragur and his children did not understand the weight of the tragedy that had just unfolded, one that would embody ruin. Corrupted, the ashen wings of the Archdrakaar cast darkness to Aegis. Yet, his brothers and sisters did not believe so - the spoken murals of this heresy would be something they would observe themselves firsthand. They loved their eldest brother, who once nurtured them, and lead them across the world to find knowledge and warmth. As they set their sights upon the Archdrakaar, his brothers and sisters attempted to plead for him to return to sanity. However, Azdromoth did not listen - and he went beyond their expectations. His large, sharpened talons grasped around the scaled neck of another dragaar, and his snout - burly and strong - feasted down upon his flesh. The Archdrakaar subsided to an act of cannibalism before all who watched, his teeth ripping away scales and meat, swallowed by a lust of blood. And so they knew, that their brother had embraced corruption - and that it was too late. As the Titan feasted on the corpse of his younger brother, the other dragaar made flight and fled the gruesome scene. This was the beginning of countless acts of fratricide as The Archdrakaar embraced corruption not with fear, but with great pleasure- the first atrocity. During the ravaging war, the undead horde of Iblees marched across hills and ravines. Azdromoth shielded the machinations of evil, blotting the sun with his great flaring wings. Iblees continued to poison the heart of Dragur’s creation, twisting them into malformed creatures. It was at this point that the Daemon of Knowledge, Dragur, set his eyes upon his fallen sons. He was filled with grief and pain, one that caused mountains to shake from his rageful tears. The flight of the Archdrakaar brought horror across Aegis, whilst those of the covenant of man felt betrayed by the corrupted dragon-king. For wherever he went, death would surely follow. As the war raged on, Azdromoth used his wisdom to remain a cunning strategist, and an eventual commander of the Archdaemon. His dark flames spewed like viscera, engulfing whole armies until they became nothing but piles of soot. The brevity of his corruption eventually became clear. Eshtael stared at the rising smoke that began to cover portions of the continent, and the Aengul of Balance eventually made her stand. As she descended into the mortal world, it did not take long for her to come across the Archdrakaar. The dragon-king could be seen from an island’s stretch, one who held mountains to support his own weight. He shielded sunlight for the ensuing horde of undead, whilst spewing burgeon flames that melted craters into the earth. As chains of pure white formed link by link, she cast them upon Azdromoth during his confident slaughter. His talons shredded the ground, creating what would become ravines and caves, as mortal men flew around as lifeless bodies. In pursuit of the godly fight, the Archdrakaar took flight into the air, causing darkness to engulf the battlefield. The soldiers of the blessed four stared, perturbed by the mystical nature of the dragon-king. Azdromoth fell, wrangled by chains of blinding white. His dishevelled body collapsed, being dragged away by the Aengul of Balance to somewhere mortal men could not find him, to be imprisoned under Khaz’Bokkdwedohin for all of eternity, or what was assumed to be. For the ongoing war, the Titan was no more, as many more of his corrupted siblings fell soon after. EI - FA - ETH - GUR - KATHIV - LOR - KUGH - AZ - DRA - DRO - NAHL - NURZ ZAH - NUBR - TY - URN - VO - VAH - WARD - ZA - YUR - YARA - UZ - TAMN - TA THE RETURN OF THE TITAN Herald of the Return In the centuries that would follow, mortals found themselves at the grasp of Athera, lands withheld by the slumbering titan. History now stood as whispers and campfire tales, written as epics sold as novelty. The descendants were voracious creatures, who were ignorant of the ancient past that befell them. Most only looked onward, and did not stare back. They continued to make the same mistakes of their forefathers, emboldened by the curse of Iblees. One such mortal found himself in the depths of a ravenous mountainside, winding rivulets of water and cave openings foretold to hold treasures and jewels. The greed of the dwarf known as Sordrin Starbreaker, who cared only for a means to find power, brought him into the heart of this ominous caveside. Yet, he did not know what lay ahead. A series of expeditions occurred, bringing those legionary dwarves and miners further into the veins of the cavern. The ruckus of their pickaxe echoed into the twisted mind of the malformed king, who lay trapped behind the innovations of Eshtael. Soon enough, the aberrant evil of the serpent whispered into the caves, with promises honied by an unmatched calmness. The dwarven party eventually lay in front of the sealed gates at the end of the labyrinth, covered in runes laid perfectly by the Lady of Balance. It permeated a blinding white that did not mirror the dull cave. Sordrin, the weak-willed dwarf, spread his bloodied palm over the runes that held the Titan. As the light shattered before them, the dwarven labyrinth began to quake. The dwarves present could only stare in terror at the commander of Iblees, cloistered in chains of white, broke free of his imprisonment. Azdromoth tore out of the mountain, causing the crust of the continent to wallow and shake in agony. The flight of the Archdrakaar was almost immediate, now returned of his lost strength, no longer restricted by aengulic energies. Though free of his immortal shackles, the body of the Archdrakaar was marred with history of the first war; festering wounds from the Aengul who cast him down. In order to hide his nature, the dragon-king cast energies almost palpable to the Archdaemon of Ruin, slowly contorting his corrupted scales into one that mirrored the descendants he wished to abuse. The dwarven party came out free under the sequestered mountainside, filled with relief, yet now carrying guilt of the destruction they wrought. It was too late for them, as the shadow of Azdromoth returned into the cusps of the mortal world. His return was announced by a tower fashioned in his image, one named in a guttural tongue bespoken by dragons. The citadel of Tor’Azdraeth was home to his mortal guise, where he used the knowledge of his father Dragur to design new sons and daughters, those who would be called nephilim. “The citadel of Tor’Azdraeth was to be the site of the Lord’s return.” THE WAR OF THE INFERI Invasion of Arcas Though having returned to the mortal world, the Titan lay in secret for many generations. His knowing eyes stared at all mortal wars that befell each continent, and he mocked the cycle of their fleeing. For each time they migrated to another land, he used his most trusted sons, the nephilim, as loyal agents to whisper conflict into the heart of descendants. Azdromoth remained enigmatic, for even his coveted sons and daughters did not understand his true nature. The Archdrakaar was a prominent general, for though he did not appear, the sons and daughters of the Titan moved with his banners. They spoke sultry words of his greatness to the nations of Arcas; murals, statues, shrines and settlements were perverted into his cause, as descendants would soon join in to become scions of the dragon-king. The Azdrazi mantled him with many prideful titles; the Great Titan, the King of Dragons, the First-born of Dragur, the Heir of Knowledge. Azdromoth was dragonkin at heart, for his ego remained above all else. In his truth, the mortal world should be a throne for his creative purposes, something that he pursued at the coming of Arcas. After all, he saw it as his birth-right. Finally, the Lord Azdromoth appeared in his mortal form. He found that the kindred of Horen had forsaken the brothers and sisters of Azdromoth, as they viewed Xan as more favourable to their cause. However, his gaze settled onto towering walls of white, covered in banners that spoke of purity; the Silver State of Haelun’or. Iblees was known for manipulating and domineering others, and the Archdrakaar unknowingly followed in his footsteps. He came first as a disembodied voice in flames, whispering of their greatness and that of their pure nature. The nephilim invaded the country, warping their disguises much like their father to appear as high-elves. With each intricate step, those of the high-elven state began to cherish Azdromoth, but he only saw them as tools. He did not hold empathy for them for their pointless decadence and paranoia. At the culmination of the inferi invasion, Azdromoth settled his final card; the vow of protection. It warped the minds of the fearful elves with a glimmer of hope, to outlast all others. Azdromoth used his dark sorceries to cast great flames over the country that guarded the high-elves from all ungodly invasions. The Azdrazi became an active presence across Arcas, with the world at some point forming an alliance to defeat Azdromoth, only for it to promptly collapse after their numerous defeats. However, the Archdrakaar did nothing - he only watched begrudgingly as he was helpless to Aengudaemons who had no place within what he viewed as his own realm. A mockery of what he wanted, a tease of what he could not have.. Shortly after the events of the Inferi Crisis in the midst of the Second War, Azdromoth sought to take advantage of the distraction by venturing outward. Still frustrated of being denied his birthright, his brilliant gaze had shifted from acquiring deific status, to making him deific among descendants. Confidence surged as pride got the best of the Archdrakaar who saw himself the most powerful creature upon the mortal realm. Undoubtedly, he was. He left the descendants who migrated to Almaris, The Titan venturing to his ancient seat of Tor Azdraeth in Axios. Inhabited by stray druids, he burnt them to cinders and twisted the nature which had overgrown his keep. His castle secured, Azdromoth shifted his attention to those who would keep his empire. While his Azdrazi and Heralds were formidable in comparison to descendants, they were fickle when it came to the greater host of enemies that lay across the world. Still stricken with the body of a descendant, they could not rule the swathe of the plane which he had sought to conquer. He could not build a general- but he could find them. The stray drakes and dragons still yet lived across the realm, either in deep slumber or in lives like animals. Unbefitting of their stature, Azdromoth sought to dominate and puppet those who could not lead lives of their own. His first targets were Elden and Satar, the wraith-drakes who lacked purpose. Gatekeepers of The Abyss, the two sitting in idle for centuries whilst Mordring’s absence within its gaping depths left them lonely. A mere look into The Archdrakaar’s eyes had caused the younger magma-drake Elden to cower, whilst her elder Satar defied him. Twisting around his titanic form, the smaller drake spewed flame at scales that did not burn- claws crashed against armor that did not waiver. A will of hatred that was unbroken. Satar had tried to break himself upon Azdromoth as Mordring’s gaze proved to be merely illusory. The Wraithdrakes submitted wholly before The Archdrakaar and his might, joining his flight and leaving the Abyss’ edge. With two generals secured, Azdromoth had sought to find a third- one more powerful yet. The Cloudbreaker of Almaris, a wayward dragon bordering on insanity from the corruption that had surrounded it, had caught The Archdrakaar’s eye. He tested his Nephilim, offering them a potent seed dubbed The Gift of Service. Offering greater mind and body to the Cloudbreaker, who had accepted it from the An-Gho in desperate fear. Despite this, The Cloudbreaker was slain by the Great Worm of Ixris, causing the Titan to enter a quiet, subtle rage. Even upon this plane, twisted forces continued to defy him- drakes and dragons would suit, yet more is what he needed. A setback, but one undeserved. The Archdrakaar spread his titanic wings, in search of more generals to add to his service- chief among them, the wayward Dragaar, and the sleeping Drakaar. By any means necessary, would they be taken. Azdromoth sat upon his throne of brimstone, staring down at the vast lava pools that gorged from the earth. The earth he saw as his birth-right, one that he would claim with utmost force if needed. In his brooding, the smokes ahead began to warp in shape. This caused the Archdrakaar to ruminate over a forgotten brother. He sent those Azdrazi that still cherished him, to journey out to the unknown - to find the lost one. THE AZDRAZI Children of the Firstborn Like his own father above, Azdromoth had sought to fulfill the footsteps of his now broken creator. The power to manipulate souls had damned Dragur to his fate, yet Azdromoth stood in defiance of what was anathema. The Archdrakaar had spent years in trial as he attempted to perfect what the Dragon-God had done before him. He experimented with the descendants of Horen and Malin, making a covenant with them that they would be elevated to a state unseen by the likes of the world. The first Azdrazi were created, men reborn with the potent blood of the first dragon, and given life anew by the radiance of his flame. Poets, philosophers, knights, and generals, Azdromoth had sought an array for those who would become his most loyal servants. The first of them, Eresar sin Nathemas. An elven philosopher wise beyond his years, who would eventually become the closest companion the Archdrakaar would have. The Archdrakaar could not battle with the fickle hearts of the descendants, too weak to truly become one of his own blood. A flawed creation that still coveted the tendencies of man, they did not wholly accept their father the Titan. However, Azdromoth still loved them as his own. Fiercely loyal and reborn in his image, The Nephilim would ceaselessly seek to further their pact with Horen and see their father's will executed. The Nephilim even themselves counselled upon how they could further Azdromoth’s will, and created a spawn of their own. Twisted with magic and branded in his name, Heralds of Azdromoth were fanatical descendants meant to devote their existence to The Archdrakaar, shown by the tattoos which would cover the entirety of their body, imbued with his magic. The first of them was a daughter of Horenic descent named Amelia. Azdromoth bound these heralds to him, expanding their power and manipulation over flame. Battle-brethren of Azdromoth, Heralds would prove to be his most pious worshippers with zeal only converts bore. The path of Asioth was born through centuries of conversation between Azdromoth and his own firstborn, creating the foundations of the faith. The Divine Aurelects and The Fifteen Parables would serve as not quite a religion, but a way of life for Azdrazi and their Heralds to devote themselves to Azdromoth and the world he would build. After the creation of Heralds, Azdromoth continued in his effort to be seen rightfully as a god. Within the ranks of his Azdrazi, the eyes were born. The Inquisitor Eternal, The Second Eye - Speaking sweetly to his creations, the first Nephilim were uncertain of the true extent of Azdromoth’s corruption. The Inquisitor Eternal was the first to know of The Archdrakaar’s true nature, and thus, was the one to question each action further beyond. Despite this, The Inquisitor questioned not to undermine him, but to solidify his vision. The An-Gho, The Third Eye - The speaker and eyes of Azdromoth, The An-Gho is a prophet who seeks to speak when he is absent, and lead when he may need. With a third eye, directly of the Archdrakaar, implanted unto their being, The An-Gho serves as a devout and fanatical follower of The Titan. To inspire The Nephilim and their heralds, and to receive his visions and speak what the flames may tell. Forever bound to his fate, the children and servants of The Archdrakaar would be fiercely loyal, until the sundering of Azdromoth, or the world. THE PRESENT DAY The King Who Never Was Azdromoth sits in rancorous brooding within Tor Azdraeth as he contemplates his next move, subtly terrorised by frustration and irritation. He seeks to further build his court and his empire, but is weary of repeated defeat. It seemed that everything The Archdrakaar touched was met with ruin, as if it were his destiny to. Compelled to fight fate and his destiny, The Titan continues to struggle against his corruption and denial of affirmation. A god in all but the formalities, Azdromoth seeks to further press his claim to the material by controlling descendant-kind in an hour most needed by Aengudaemons who dare not tread a step upon the plane. Whether by love or by fear, he knows the hearts of mortals stir in sight of conflict or control. Further empowering his Azdrazi, and domineering further Dragonkin to solidify his legacy as heir of Dragur, Azdromoth is in a prime position to solidify a legacy as worthy of Dragur’s heirship, or a ruinous creature of Iblees’ corruption. ‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ THE PURPOSE Explanation Azdromoth has been a prominent lore-figure throughout the history of the server. As the father of the Azdrazi, and the one deemed Archdrakaar, his purpose in the server eludes a goal: to become something that is closest to a god. Throughout the rich development in roleplay, Azdromoth has become a world-antagonist that is hated by most; he is shunned by the descendants, and the Aengudaemons of LOTC. In order to covet power, Azdromoth has - through numerous events - used player interactions to spread his influence, and to gather artefacts and powerful agents in order to claim the material realm. He wishes for the mortal world to be untapped by the deities, both out of envy and desire. The Archdrakaar is a god in all rights, but he lacks the foundations of his own realm, and does not embody a concept like his divine father. Azdromoth is dubbed the King Who Never Was, for he has all characteristics of a king, but others do not see it so. He is a ruinous emperor touched by the hand of Iblees, that continues to poison his brilliant mind. The Archdrakaar is not there to bring unneeded chaos or death amongst descendants, for he cannot parade as god without those to follow him. An unending ego that cannot be satisfied by normal needs. Akin to King Midas, despite his efforts, everything Azdromoth seems to touch is ruined. He struggles against his fate fruitlessly, as he delves further into the fate set out for him by Iblees. He does not seek to be cured of his painful ailment, nor does he wish to see his divine father return. Azdromoth wishes to be the only dragon-god, and though his love for Dragur does not end, he does not seek his return. In truth, the mind of Azdromoth has been warped to such an extent that it has amplified his desire for being at the top of the food-chain, even if it means betraying the all-father Dragur. For if he could not inherit Dragur’s legacy as his first creation, he will forge one greater for himself. At the current moment, Azdromoth does not find much worth in his beloved children, the Azdrazi, for they are too weak of a creation to battle those who seek to cling to his throne. For that reason, a lot of the current roleplay encompassing the Archdrakaar is seeking for greater weapons to use in battle. He is a strategist, plotting how to secure his legacy in a realm with countless foes. In the end, Azdromoth has a clear goal in mind. His fear of losing power over his own fate is something that has willed him to begin taking drastic measures, and as an opportunist, he uses the downfall of Aengudaemons and their presence upon the mortal plane to flaunt his darkened scales once again. Credit to: Werew0lf - Writer Squakhawk - Writer 37 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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