Voidwalker Dhomah

The Normandorian Chronicle: Chapter Two: Void Walker - The Sprout of Magic Written by Kyrenn, base ideas inspired by Isirack The deep abysmal lore of the depths of the Void was not told in the early chapters of the Normandorian Chronicle. Little was this place explained, as were not the heavens, of their allures, of their darkness. But this... This is not about the heavens. This is the tale of the Void beneath the Elder Tree; not of its origin, but of the way its consummate darkness and corruption sprouted the seed of magic, the guild of the arcane: the Collegium Arcanus of Normandor. “These seeds were tainted by both light and dark magic and would yearn to be in the heavens, but also, in the Void.” As told in The Beginning, the Elder Tree would sprout its roots and extend its shoots to the bowels of the infinite Void, and the reaches of the ever-longing heavens themselves. Morphing into a city itself, the tree grew to accommodate a multitude of races, from humans, to dark Elves, to high Elves to Dwarves. Only a few were wary of the depths that lurked beneath their home, as the Void was “hidden” to the knowledge of those who had no business with it. Nobody should have had business with it. Prior to the tree becoming the glorious city as it stands today, the High Council and leaders held a hearing among themselves. For the good of the city, and her people, the entrances to the Void were to be sealed for the rest of time, never allowing entrance, except to those who were... granted the gift of access. But this is another chronicle entirely. Deep in a southern root of the tree lay the blacksmith’s shop, housing a private office to a half-blood Elf-human named Kyrenn. He’d begun to become important around the city as a councilman, and was up to his pointy ears in parchments and ink, writing documents to officials, treaties to war clans, and every once in a while, a hopeful letter home to his parents. Warmly embraced by his work, Kyrenn was never one to stop halfway through. “I’ll sleep when it’s done,” he always said. Until one night. The night was surprisingly quieter than others, as the previous night was the grand opening of the city as the capital of Malinor. This meant more work for him, but at least it was peaceful work. Although, this was okay; he was happy to be able to accomplish what was impossible the night before, given all the ruckus of the parties. As he wrote, he began to notice that his heart was beating irregularly slow, and its beat had become much, much louder, and lower in pitch; like the slow drum of a massive creature. He clenched his chest in instinctual reaction, shocked and wide-eyed. Everyone had already turned in for the night, exhausted from the day and the days before, preparing to open the city. A thought ran rampant through his mind, that something was wrong with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to awake anyone for help, hoping it would pass. Slouched into his chair, he watched the dim flicker of a candle as he held his chest, breathing slowly, listening, as the beat got louder and louder. Soon, it filled the room and walls. He couldn’t even hear himself speak. He frantically shot around the room in attempts to find some sort of medicinal herb to calm him down; surely he was going insane. The sound muted. His heart beat subsided, returning to normal, though slightly raised due to his panic. He collapsed back into his chair, frightened, as to what he just experienced. Confused, he wondered if anyone else heard what was going on. Perhaps it wasn’t his heart, he thought. Perhaps it was a prank. He dismissed the thought of a prank; he would have heard if someone was in the shop. Kyrenn knew something greater was at work here. Who it was wasn’t the question in his mind, but what. After resting for a few moments, he attempted to bring himself back out of the chair, a bit rickety and in shock. Shortly after standing, it started again. Thump, after thump, after thump. The walls, he thought... No... The sound was much too deep to be coming from something like that. He clenched his chest again, realising.. It wasn’t his heart. The sound wasn’t even coming from the same room. It was coming from underneath him. Still in shock, and not thinking straight, he dashed out of his office and made his way into the underbelly of the city, below the base, and between the roots, to the birthplace of the tree and the ancient temple where Bravepaw cast the seed into the Void. As he slowly made his way down the stairs, the beat got louder and louder, guiding him to a small tunnel behind the temple, into a stripped and unused mine. He struck a torch as the darkness enveloped him, and slowly moved toward the beat, which grew even louder, and heavier with every step. He wondered if anyone else could hear it, and why nobody was down in these caverns, doing the same thing. Was he losing himself, as he had feared? As he walked through the cavern, following the sound, he came across a wall of solid wood encased in stone. The tree’s mighty root had broken through the mud and stone here, patching a Void hole as it descended itself into the infinity. The sound muted yet again. Kyrenn sighed, turning around, dismissing the entire situation as insanity, shaking his head at himself. A loud, screeching crunch startled him into a corner of the cavern has he walked away, forcing him to drop his torch, which swiftly extinguished its flame and rolled away. The light leading out of the cavern was gone. Kyrenn looked about the darkness, fearing the worst, until he saw a glimmer in the cavern, far off, as the beat encumbered his mind yet again, stronger and louder than it was any previous time. It called for him. He was drawn to it. Using his hands to feel his way, he slowly navigated to the damp cavern, being careful not to trip or get cut on any of the sharp stones. He knew he’d never make it out if he was injured and alone in this place, but somehow he felt safe as he stumbled toward the glow. As he got closer, he noticed that the root blocking the path before had displaced itself, forming a ramp into the Void itself. But the Void was glimmering. He began inching himself down the huge branch, for some reason, not worried about the thick black depth below him, only going toward the glow. It began to move, slowly. He noticed the light was moving, and began moving faster, attempting to keep up with it. Through twists and turns, it lead him, lighting his way, challenging him ever faster to keep up, without falling to his doom. Unfortunately, he got too complacent, and tripped over a small dip in the root, plummeting into the depths of blackness. But he awoke. To his surprise and gratitude, he landed on another branch. Feeling the same dip in the wood, he realized he had landed on the same branch he tripped on, only deeper in the blackness. It was so dark, he only knew he was on a branch because of the bark texture underneath his feet. He was in dismay, knowing he had reached his doom. But why did the tree move again to catch him? The roots began to move again, unveiling a bright, warm, inviting aura of magic before him. Whips of vines and twists of branches formed beautiful helical designs around this massive, beating heart of light. As it pulsed, Kyrenn realised what he was looking at. What he was hearing. It wasn’t his own heart, nor a beast of the caverns. He was staring directly into the heart of the Elder Tree itself. The beat of the heart was in sync with his. With every beat of the heart of the tree, his heart pounded with it. Had it always been this way, or was the tree in line with his spirit just this occasion? Whatever it was, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The coils of wood and bark retracted and extended like a large spinning gyro around this emanating core of light, which was so bright, he could see all the roots and branches for miles until they faded into the blackness. The root he stood on slowly wrapped and coiled under his feet, extending a pathway to the heart as the gyro of roots slowly came to a smooth halt, forming an arch over the heart. The light pulsed slower and slower, dimming to let Kyrenn see its pure white stone-like flesh. He reached forward, the pulse stopped. Kyrenn snapped his hand back, wondering if he should do what he was about to do. The heart had lead him all this way, what did it want? It pulsed with light again, briefly, as if inviting him again. He slowly released tension from his body, reaching forward as his fingers unwrapped and extended to touch the heart, becoming warmer as they began to glow. The heart flared brightly as he felt the loving touch of the stony heart, and his vision became pure white. Flexing his fingers, feeling the warmth of the sand on his skin, he awoke from a deep slumber as he stretched and yawned as the early morning sun beat on his face. He snapped to attention, instantly awake, peering at the miles of sand and hot desert sun before him. Now he was worried. Fearing being drugged and robbed, he patted himself down, wondering what was going on and where exactly he was. As he went over himself, looking about, he noticed a peculiar white stone half-buried in the sand a few feet from him as he flashed back to his experience from the night before. “Was it a dream?” He wondered to himself. The stone in the sand was unlike anything else near him, or anything else he’d ever seen in a desert in his life. It was as pure white as the heart of the tree he saw the previous night. He woke up in the middle of a desert, after falling into the Void, feeling invigorated and in perfect health. As he stood up, he noticed something in the shadow of his figure; his sand-speckled hands were glowing as lifted his body. He stood erect and put them to the sun, not seeing the same glow. It was too faint, but it grew brighter in the shadows. Something happened that night, and he knew the stone had something to do with it. Feeling hopeless, he searched around himself in every direction to see if he could find out even remotely where he was. He peered at the stone, sighing, beginning to tear a piece of his tunic. Fashioning a make-shift sling out of his tunic, he wrapped it around the large, heavy stone, and slung it over his shoulder. He saw a small brown dot at the edge of the horizon, which he began to walk toward, hoping it would lead him to someone that could tell him where he had awoken. And so he walked. Eventually, he arrived at the small wooden building, finding it empty and barren as the rest of the sandy wasteland he’d woken up in that morning. Let down and in disarray, he slumped onto a log and sighed, looking around, noticing something that may have just saved his life. The sand in the area had been dug out in massive quantities, leaving a barren scar of stone beneath it. This was great news for him; he made that scar. During the early days of the city, an expedition was embarked on a mission to gather sand for the city’s building project. Due directly south was home, and he was happy and proud of his massive scar in the land, as it had saved his life. Many days passed as Kyrenn lugged this massive, heavy stone to his home in Normandor. He had to take frequent breaks, severely increasing his travel and camping time, having to conserve energy to hunt to keep alive. Finally, as he stride through Elandriel and push through the brush of the border, he had the bridge in sight. Home at last, he thought. He shouted at the gate for a guardsman’s assistance. Sentinel Isirack jumped at the sound of the councilman’s voice, immediately throwing the gates open and dashing to the end of the bridge, to help the man the city thought they’d lost forever. The Sentinel shouted at the councilman, happy to see him. Isirack offered to carry the sack for Kyrenn, but was stopped, as he explained that it was not to be touched, wary of its effect on any other members of the city. He heaved it into a room and locked it in a chest in the back of his office, as he explained to High Commander Ithil of what events had transpired. Ithil explained to Kyrenn that he was indeed gone much longer than just one night. Months longer. Kyrenn had been gone for over a year. Arrangements were made by the high council and leaders to re-seat him in his power after months of investigations, assuring the councilman’s honesty. The stone went unknown to everyone but Kyrenn himself, and the High Commander. It sat dormant in this chest for months, until an event similar to the initial finding of the heart took place. The stone began to glow in the dead of night, in the chest in Kyrenn’s office, and began to beat softly, waking him from slumber in his home. This time, experienced, he knew exactly where to go. Or, so he thought. He used the back entrance to his office to get into the city faster, but as he opened the door exiting the office, he noticed beams of light pouring from the chest the stone was placed in all those months ago. It had awoken. The lock on the chest was shattered, and the chest sprang open as Kyrenn neared it, bursting the chest into splinters around the room, whizzing around him as he approached it. He knelt down to a knee, and placed both of his hands on the stone, this time, keeping conscious as the power flowed through him like electricity. A bright yellow-white aura took him over as he lift the stone. His body and eyes glowed brightly, his rough grey hair stood on end, glowing golden as the rest of his body. Swirls like that of the roots guarding the heart spun him into a cocoon of energy, fluctuating in colour, slowly fading from a bright golden aura, to a deep, black and purple mist of power. The aura exploded, flexing the walls and splintering the floors. The aura faded with the stone, as Kyrenn returned to normal, dropping the yet heavier stone into the wooden floor, causing a large thump and a rather unsightly dent to compliment the rest of the shattered room. As he stood there aloof, unsure of what had transpired, he felt a level of satisfaction deep within himself as a message left by the stone ran through his mind. It was to share. Share not his possessions, but his experience, his wisdom, and the heart of the tree itself, and the knowledge it holds. But the stone did not grant him new knowledge, or new abilities. It instead augmented the power he already possessed in himself, and a brought his consciousness into an ascended state of reason, allowing him to master his own spirit. His only mission now was to teach what he had learned through his life. He knew that this had to stay separate from his job as a councilman, thus donning the unknown identity of the hidden Magus by the name of Dhomah, master of the school. The Collegium Arcanus of Normandor The College of the Arcane Arts Not a guild of magic, as some may think, the Collegium Arcanus of Normandor is dedicated to sharing the knowledge and wisdom of the tree with its most dedicated inhabitants and most experienced spellweavers, along with those who wish to learn from the beginning. All of the college’s magicks are derived from the heart of the Elder Tree itself, separating it from other schools and guilds of magic. Only those with the divine gift of the tree may learn from it, but it is not we who control who it will choose. All citizens of Normandor may attend the college. All may share in the bask of knowledge that is the Elder Tree, and all may learn from its glory and wisdom. But those who wish to learn its secrets of the Void, must be true to themselves, as well as the City and her people.

This is amazing <3

For those wondering about NPCs, there was apparently some exploit that was discovered that could have dramatically affected the in-game economy (for the worse, unfortunately) and they're being disabled until they're "fixed." There were a lot of things wrong with NPCs as they were released, and disabling them while all the kinks are worked out is a lot better a decision than letting the players use the exploits while they're there. That said, magic is coming. It's a big pugin and it'll cause a lot of balance issues if it's not worked out perfectly. It's also creating tons of controversy within the RP community, so give it time. I like the shops, and the price is fair. The way Showcase works is that you pay a flat price to set up a shop for a particular item, and you can restock it indefinitely without paying again. I'd hold off on making them though, as they're still very buggy. A guy in my town set up a shop with a few hundred bread and it vanished the next time he logged in, and lost all of it. Keep an eye on the forums and news and I'm sure it'll all get straightened out.

We invite our human allies with open arms, wide smiles, and pointy ears. Looking forward to see some of you at the grand opening!

The High Council of Normandor is looking forward to new citizens, visitors, and traders. All of our friends are invited to the opening. See you there! [P.S. Enjoy the lore! We actually put some time into it!]

Monk's name? Aerlam Manus Their personality? Aerlam, as a boy, was always the kid wanting to help everybody. Since the day he could walk, he made it his job every day to help the people around where he lived, never staying in one place too long. A bit of a nomad, he roams from place to place, helping who he can, when he can, lending the caring hand that's always needed. Becoming old, he's preparing to settle down in this new land, Asulon, hoping he can spend his final days as a Monk of the Wilven Sanctuary, helping those who, like him, have experienced what it is to be weary and tired from travel, and afraid of new surroundings. Aerlam is always very calm, and relaxed. Never biased toward anything, as a proper monk, he is good at offering a middle-ground solution to problems and always happy to help with them, if he can. He enjoys cooking for guests and having company during cold nights to speak with him about the new land that he lives in. Who were the Celestial Triumvirate?: The three deities of warship discovered by Wilven upon his arrival at the ruins. Lord Tariel of the Stars, Lord Keldrith, of the Sun, and Lady Rellenia of the Moon. A lost traveler comes to the sanctuary and asks, "Monk, where am I? and how might I find my way?" Aerlam, speaking to another of the monks of the sanctuary, wiggles his ears a bit. "One moment, if you will. It seems we have another traveler." He turns around, facing the traveler, smiling brightly through his fluffy grey beard. "This is the Wilven Sanctuary of Asulon." he says proudly. "From here, you can reach any of the four kingdoms by following the signs posted on the pillars." Aerlam smiles, "But you seem a bit tired," he says, looking at the travelers slouched posture. "Perhaps you might come have a rest in my home? I can provide you will food as well, if you please. We can speak about the land and we can swap stories, and I can provide you with information of the lands that you travel. Always nice to have someone to talk to." Skin:

We're having a massive influx of new recruits coming and going, so it's becoming a bit hard to manage all the applications at the moment. Future events are going to generate a lot of traffic and we'll be happy to have so many prospective recruits. Just hang in there; our recruiter is mighty busy!

Why replace Craftbook? It was working fine how it was and now permissions for several things are broken. I can't even read bookshelves anymore. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" is how I feel.

Welcome to the Normandor Guard, prospective recruits. The job is dangerous, but the pay is good and it gets you a bed. You'll be outfitted, trained, and respected among the city as a protector of the great tree. I am a high council member, and oversee the operations of the guard. Prove yourself and you may get rewarded.