WuHanXianShi14

Axios History Index This thread will serve as the megathread in which all lore containing Axios map lore and history will be listed. This is to serve as a resource for people to draw from. Primarily for two purposes. 1) Anyone who wishes to write lore. The threads listed below will serve as a reference for you to go off of to ensure the lore you write matches this map’s canon history, and thus will make the lore you write eligible for acceptance. 2) Any ET wishing to make a dedicated event line involving can use the threads below to draw names, locations and what-have-you to put into their events. This thread is open for anyone to view. However, bare in mind that very little of the history below is commonly known in RP. So, please do not suddenly roleplay that your characters have gained a complete understanding of world history! That said, enjoy the Axios megathread. History Lore Full Ancient History of Axios (TIMELINE) Malin’s Kingdom Origins of the Wood Elves Origins of the Dark Elves Origins of the High Elves The Hou-Zi, Ancient Ape-folk of Axios Kingdom of Masur (Human) Deity Lore Excerpt on Azdromoth Taynei'Hiylu - The Druidic Dragon Guild Lore Nephilim - Dragonkin of Azdromoth Artifact/Creature Lore Meldamiriel - Ent Lore The Golden Pools Location Lore Hidden Ruins of Magara'lin Misc. Lore Ikurnamon - Elven Ironwood Please keep checking this thread regularly, as it will continue to be updated as new lore is posted!

Note: This lore for Malin’s ancient kingdom has already been made canon through the acceptance of the recent wood and dark elven history posts. All I’m doing here is writing a post dedicated to it (as opposed to it being a footnote in subrace lore posts). This is not a lore submission because nothing here hasn’t already been accepted, it’s just being explained in more detail. Malin’s Kingdom - The First Elven State "Malin, may your forests be a sanctuary of peace and your children long lived.” Many believe that elven history begins in the city of Laurelin, of Aegis. While it is true that modern elven history begins with High Prince Native, Laurelin and the founding of the Princedom of Malinor, ancient elven history goes much farther back. Before the Princedom, before Haelun’or, Laureh’lin and the Dominion, before even the distinction between wood, high and dark elf, there was an ancient, forgotten kingdom. A kingdom ruled by Malin himself, while he still walked the world. This Kingdom was Malinor, the first Malinor, and the place where elven history began. Origins The story of the Kingdom of Malinor (Kingdom of Malinor being the ancient state ruled by Malin, and Princedom of Malinor being its successor state, founded by High Prince Native millenia later) begins after the first war with Iblees. The Elves had just been cursed with infertility by the archdaemon, but been blessed with long life by an unknown divine. Malin, forefather of the elves, knew he had to create a land for his people to live in peace. Aegis at this time was mostly wartorn, and the children of his brothers- Horen, Krug and Urguan, were equally cursed with such unsavoury traits like greed and bloodlust. Always being one for caution, Malin chose the path of isolation from his brothers and their children. Malin led his elven people across the sea, where he would found and rule his new state. The isles of Axios, the lands which had one been a fierce battleground against iblees, became Malin’s kingdom. He had chosen this land to become the home of his kin after the children of his brother Krug became too warlike to coexist with, and Urguan’s spawn too greedy to live among. Malin set to building his kingdom. He wished for his realm to be one where the elves lived in harmony with nature. Malin was close to the Aspects, the aenguls of the wild, and even convened with them from time to time. He wished to pass on the values the Aspects taught him to his children. Thus, his kingdom took shape. He gave the Kingdom no name, yet his children christened it Malinor. Marvelous cities which would have been alien to the eyes of men and dwarves, great halls hidden deep in the thickest forests, homes which weaved their ways seamlessly into the trees, built perfectly to co-exist with the wild, not replacing it, but becoming a part of it. The greatest settlement of Malinor was on the isle of Malin itself, an island named by the forefathers’ children as well. The city built upon this center isle of Axios was more magnificent than any other, High Prince Native recalled this city as ‘Tavule’ centuries later, but it likely had a true name lost to time. It was there Malin’s throne lay, in the trunk of the eldest elder tree. It was there he ruled his people from. All elves were one during this time. They were fair of skin, but usually dark of hair. Their height was middling, though some could be shorter or taller than the rest. Malin himself was fair-haired, his eyes ever-changing, those closest to him claimed their colour changed depending on his mood. Regardless, the forefather himself was special, but the elves as a whole were more or less homogenous, all the same lithe, sharp-eared beings of long-life who dwelled in their halls and homes so flawlessly woven into nature. The druids also played a significant role in Malin’s realm. The order was older now and had learned much since the great war with iblees. They held great respect for Malin, as the elven forefather was known to receive visions and convene from the Aspects from time to time. While Malin himself was not drui, he too held the Aspects’ wisdom. The druids were welcomed in Malin’s kingdom with open arms as mentors and teachers, ensuring the elves knew how to live in harmony with nature. Malinor prospered for centuries, enduring wars with the other races, and going through various other hardships. Despite its troubles, the Kingdom lived on, under the guidance of the immortal forefather of the elves. People Elves made up the kingdom of Malinor. There were no subraces during this time, no distinction between mali’ame, mali’aheral and mali’ker. All were simply Mali. Those who lived by the seaside may have had darker skin, and those who lived in the mountains may have been paler, but in the eyes of all, including Malin himself, an elf was an elf. The defining characteristic of the Kingdom of Malin was that it represented the era of elven history before the great split. It was the first true elven nation and the only one to ever truly claim to unify the elves, not just as a political entity, but as a cultural one. Given that this kingdom was ruled by Malin himself, it is often remarked upon by elves of the modern day that the forefather was the only one who could keep his people together, and that elfkind shall remain separated until he returns. It also gives context behind the popular mantra: “We know no king but Malin, Malin is our only king.” Government As its name would suggest, the Kingdom of Malinor was a monarchy. One ruled by Malin, the first (and many consider only) king of the elves. However, Malin had a council of leaders who would advise him and run different facets of the kingdom, be it commerce, military, politics, et cetera. Since he considered all elves his children, those on his council were titled Princes and Princesses, even though the positions were not heriditary and in theory, any elf was eligible for the role. This was the system of government that Native would later emulate in his successor state, the Princedom of Malinor in Aegis, millenia later. Native however, would take the title of High Prince instead of king, believing humbly that Malin should be the only one to take that title. Religion No religion truly dominated the ancient Kingdom of Malin, although almost all of the faiths and doctrines carried by modern elves today had their beginnings in the Kingdom. Malin himself was said to follow the Aspect’s teachings. Not as a religion perhaps, but as a lifestyle born of the love for his forests, and a fondness for druids, who had fostered the Green Spirit Taynei’hiylu, a dragon that had been like a daughter to him. Other faiths were prominent across ancient Malinor. The Aengul Aerial was universally beloved by all elves, seen as a saviour and believed by many to have been the one to have blessed their race with long lifespans. One of Malin’s Council, Princess Veluluai, was said to have created a cult following for the worship of shamanistic spirits among her followers after travelling through the lands of the ancient orcs and bringing the faith there back to the elven homeland. While Aerial and the Aspects seemed to be the more popular choices, many elves just simply chose not to worship, as was their right to do so. Religion did not feature very prominently in the lives of the ancient elves, who were ruled very secularly by Malin and his high council of Princes. Dissolution The downfall of the Kingdom of Malin came through a series of slow steps. The first and most significant was the dissapearance of Malin himself. It is unknown whether Malin died or simply went missing, but overnight, the forefather of the elves was gone. Ancient Malinor was at a loss, as no one other individual had ever ruled them, and without him the High Council of Princes fell into disarray, no central authority to guide them. Out of this sudden instability came the schisms of the elven race. It was around this time that individuals such as Larihei, Veluluai and Irrin Sirame ended up taking the fate of their people into their own hands. They would become the progenitors of the high elves, dark elves and wood elves, respectively. The high elves would form a new society, seeing the crumbling of Malinor is weak. The golden pools they bathed in turned their skin paler and their hair silver, and their mantra of purity would develop shortly after. They concentrated in the west regions of Axios and built towering silver spires where old Malinorian forest cities once lay. The dark elves fate was bound to Veluluai, whose actions led her and her followers to be cursed by an old, primordial being. She would later seek blessing from the moon spirit Luara, who turned her and her people’s skin dark as ash. Now seen as pariahs by the rest of elfkind, they would retreat to the isle of Ceru in south-east Axios where they dug into the mountains and formed their underground nation of Magara’lin. The wood elves were the last of the old elves (un-mutated) to schism, and the last to hold on to the crumbling Kingdom of Malinor. They saw the other two elves as spitting upon Malin’s memory, and thus abandoned them. They retreated into the deep forests and formed many nomadic Seeds. Their new primal, wild lifestyle lended them to a fierce worship of the Aspects, fiercer than any elf had worshipped the two gods of nature during the days when elfkind was one. Thus with Malin gone, elfkind split into three, and each holding its own culture and territories, the ancient kingdom of Malinor was officially no more. The three subraces of elf would continue to live on Axios, at times working with one another, at times fighting amongst one another. It would be another few millenia until each elven nation would migrate en masse back to Aegis, where they would come to settle in the city of Laurelin and form the new Malinor, the Princedom of Malinor, under High Prince Native.

I like it. It isn't an issue to me if its similar to things like the spirit realm in Shamanism or what have you. Bare in mind, this is for a completely different playerbase, and while in function intercession magic and shamanism may be different, the players that they'll affect and the way they're RP'd out (especially culturally) will be entirely different. Don't shoot down lore just because its similar to something else. Especially because it'll be a new unique experience for the players getting it. (I can understand not wanting to give the Orcs or Elves more special magics, but the humans have really never gotten anything). Lore-wise I like the narrative. The human's main blessing is that they get access to the seven skies. Think abstractly. This doesn't just have to mean they go there when they die. It could mean they can literally call upon the blessings of the seven skies to brighten their mortal lives. (And also still go there when they die) All in all, I think it makes sense. I support this lore, good luck, +1 I would say because the human playerbase would want something which has more relevant ties to their cultural lore, which the spirits do not have. I really believe this lore should be accepted. The very reason I joined the lore team was to help implement lore pieces like this which can be relevant to the main cultures of main playerbases and have a solid effect on day-to-day RP (as opposed to being relevant in a one-a-year PVE event). We as a team should be willing to bend and adapt our perception of canon lore a bit to give large playerbases like Oren (and the elves, hence why I re-wrote wood elf lore) some lore recognition.

Already added everyone who requested their clan be added by the time you wrote this post lol

Yeah, that was the point haha. I wanted to just give them cameos, a bit of a shoutout, i.e "yeah, they existed!" Giving them any significant important role in dark elf history would have been validating one dark elf faction and invalidating another, hence why I kept their presence small. If you and the other darkie leaders can agree on events that happened in your clan history, you can write a submission, or I can add it in briefly in this lore. All the power to you.

That's not really fair lol. I'll add your clan in with the rest if you like, but I'm not excluding everyone else because you don't want anyone to be there. I'm just going to add in your clan (Taloha?) in the single sentence everyone elses' clan is mentioned in. The part that mentions the bloodlines were formed during this time.

You may take off your tinfoil hat. As I offered to Lego, I will add in your group to the history. As it stands, the only presence modern day clans have in the OP is "they were formed around this time, and existed". Also, my thoughts echo Swgr's.

Giving current clans a cameo in ancient history adds a nice touch imo. Makes ancient lore more relevant in day to day RP, which is my main goal. If you'd like, I can add your family into this lore.

Looks good to me, only thing I can think of right now is that if this was before the subrace schism, then Malin would still be alive and walking in his own Kingdom. Other than that, these Ent creatures should fit in with elven lore nicely

Lol that's not really a fair question to ask you may as well ask that of any new culture or race and on that principal deny all lore of that nature since it doesn't exist on our map before it was conceived as an idea. I'm probably going to get some ET builders to make the ruins for me. If they're needed. I doubt most players will care that much about the houzi "coming out of nowhere". It's an unavoidable thing for anyone writing new race lore

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vyuUcTewmBI The Hou-Zi Ancient Empires of Axios The Hou-Zi are a primate people native to the archipelago of Axios. Their historic territory comprises the isles of Malin, Tahn and Asul. The Hou-Zi once had an empire that spanned the entire continent during ancient times, but have crumbled and become a sparse people. Nowadays, they make their reclusive dwellings within the jungles of the isle of Asul, the ancient heartland of their people. They live by the creed of their Immortal Monkey King, Hou-Shen. Origins The Hou-Zi were an uplifted race. Once a species of monkeys like any other, they were a primitive animal incapable of fire, tools, architecture, or anything of the sort. Just like any regular primate. A Hou-Zi, pre-uplifting Fate smiled down upon this primate species however, as Metzli was looking for worthy candidates. This was a time before Metzli had created the Kharajyr race which would ultimately become her chosen servants. The Daemon was still experimenting with the creation of a mortal race which would serve her, and trying to figure out how to go about it. Finally, she resolved to first experiment by taking an already existing bestial race and granting it intelligence. Metzli turned to the fauna of the land. She spent seven years and seven days scouring the world, the various continents, until she came upon what would become Axios in the present day. The jungles in the isle of Asul were filled with thousands of creatures, many intelligent, many fierce, but none suited Metzli’s needs. None until she came upon the primates. The primal ancestors of the Hou-zi. These monkeys pleased her. They were clever, they were quick, they knew how to hunt in a group, and above all else, they resembled the descendent races, with two legs, two arms and two eyes full of life. She could work with this. So Metzli got to work. She approached a primate. This monkey was the alpha, the leader of the pack. He had twelve monkey wives, and no other monkey dared eat before him when it was time to feast. Metzli unlocked this monkey’s mind, opening it to sentience. To the idea of the future, of the past, of fire, of the stars. The monkey would become Hou-Shen, the Monkey King. Metzli would perform all manner of lost arts and powerful magics on Hou-Shen in the coming days. Transforming his soul, his mind and his body. The Monkey King would soon live up to his title, growing strong, lean arms and legs much like the races of men and elves. Metzli gave Hou-Shen a crown of jade, and instructed him to go and be the prophet of his people. However, Metzli warned, Hou-Shen was to be the vessel of her will. For as long as her newly created people- the Hou-Zi- obeyed her will, she would shower them with prosperity. Metzli did this not out of vanity, but with the cold mind of a scientist testing her hypothesis on sentience. Hou-Shen did as Metzli commanded, unlocking the gift of sentience on all the monkeys in the jungle of Asul with power granted to him by the Daemon themselves. Soon, the Hou-Zi race was fully born, and their history began. History Jing-Taiyun, jewel of the Hou-Zi empire, in its prime The Hou-zi expanded and evolved their culture at an astonishing rate. Within two years they were forging their own steel. Within four, they had built their first palaces out of stone and jade. Guiding the Hou-zi through this entire process was Hou-Shen, teaching his subjects the wisdom imparted on him by Metzli herself. Expansion and Golden Age By the 50th year, Jing-Taiyun, the capital and center of Hou-zi civilization had been built. With their newfound sentience, the Hou-Zi developed a complex society. Hou-Shen and his sons- Hou-Wang, Hou-Da, and Hou-Xiao formed the top tier of society, ruling from the Jade-Monkey throne in Jing-Taiyun. Underneath them served the Ruling Council of Chi. The Ruling Council was made up of twelve Hou-Zi lords who governed over a respective territory of Hou-Zi land, which had expanded to encompass the entire ancient jungle of Asul. Hou-Zi society lived stably for a while, but this was not to last. The Hou-Zi people were growing used to their luxuries and wished for more. So, Hou-Shen meditated upon the Jade-Monkey throne and meditated long and hard for the correct path to take his people on. In his meditation, Metzli approached and spoke to him. The Daemon ordered the monkey king to expand beyond the jungle. To claim wealth, fame and glory in her name. The Hou-Zi would rise like the morning sun and become the master race, they would bring in wealth and riches from their defeated enemies. And thus, the Hou-Zi conquest of ancient Axios began. A Hou-Zi warrior of the Fei-Zhu tribe, scouting out new lands for conquest. The First Great War of Malin The Hou-Zi would ultimately fight all their great wars with one other race: The elves. At the time of the first great expansion of the Hou-Zi, the First Kingdom of Ancient Malinor was the dominant power in Axios. It was a well established kingdom led by the forefather of the elves himself, Malin, and had a heavy presence on all three major isles. The native territory and first city of the Hou-Zi before the first great war. The rest of the Isle of Axios were under control of the Kingdom of Malin. Malin and his council had caught wind of these hyper-intelligent primate people, who had only gained intelligence around half a century or so ago, not a very long time by elven standards. The King of the Elves had not devoted much energy into developing ties with the Hou-Zi at first, but soon, seeing their rapid development and advancement saw the need. However, all the elven emissaries and ambassadors he sent to Jing-Taiyun to meet Hou-Shen had been turned away, sent home without being granted an audience. This made Malin weary, and be began preparing his people for war. Which, consequentially, was exactly what the Hou-Zi were doing as well. War began two years later. Height of the first great conquest, with territories of the Hou-Zi empire shown in red. The Hou-Zi would hold this territory for around 150 years before ultimately being pushed back. The Hou-zi poured out of the jungles around Jing-Taiyun and began their conquest of the isle of Asul. The elves were ultimately taken by surprise, and could only offer piecemeal resistance as the Hou-zi army blazed through many small towns and villages. Malin reacted quickly, and sent a large detachment of his Sentinel warriors to fortify the walled city of Asul’onn, the center of elven influence on the isle of Asul. The Monkey King Hou-Shen himself led his armies west to Asul’onn, and demanded the surrender of the city. The Sentinel commander garrisoned inside refused, and the siege began. The battle of Asul’onn was a fierce one, with the elves putting up a savage resistance, their druids performing great feats to keep the monkey-men at bay. However, it ultimately took 70 days for the city to fall, the walls crumbling due to strange, dragon-shaped gunpowder rockets engineered by the Hou-Zi, which tore through the city walls, allowing them to pour in and slaughter the elves inside with their superior weaponry. With the fall of Asul’onn, the Kingdom of Malinor no longer had any holdings on the isle of Asul, and Malin had any remaining forces on the island pull back to the mainland of Tahn. The Hou-Zi would continue to expand their territory after that. The isle of Ceru was the next target. The Hou-Zi won a decisive victory at the battle of the southern peak, where an army at the command of the elven lord Uradras was defeated by a force of Hou-Zi led by the eternal king’s first son, Hou-Wang. Hou-Wang would lead his armies northwards to siege the city of Andria. The Kingdom of Malin would score their first decisive victory of the war here by repelling the invaders and slaughtering most of Hou-Wang’s army. The Hou-Zi retreated to nurse their wounds, and would never conquer northern Ceru, albeit gaining control of the south. The expansion continued as the Hou-Zi armies would push their way into the heartland of Malinor, the isle of Tahn. Bathed in blood and baring ornate armour and enchanted weapons of Jade, they conquered the westernmost coastal city of Cerulin, rapidly expanding eastward, despite fierce resistance from the elves. The first phase of the conquest was finally put to a halt at the siege of Naeri’onn, a city in central Tahn. It is said that Malin himself led the defense of Naeri’onn, with his most trusted advisors and generals by his side: Irrin Sirame, Veluluai, Uradras, Larihei. The siege was a decisive victory for the elves, a three-pronged assault which ended up slaughtering the entire Hou-Zi detachment to a man. Both the Hou-Zi and the elves had been exhausted of men and resources, and thus Malin and Hou-Shen met in a peace council. It was agreed that the Hou-Zi empire would keep all territories it had conquered during the war, but would halt any further advance. For awhile, it seemed the war had finally ended. During this period of interlude peace, which lasted for around a century, the Hou-Zi greatly developed their influence in their newly conquered territories. Cities like Dansui and Gao-shan were erected on the isles of Tahn and Ceru, ran by Hou-Shen’s sons, Hou-Da and Hou-Xiao respectively. The Hou-Zi rebuilt the infrastructure of the area, and regions which had once been predominantly elven soon came to have Hou-Zi majorities. Conquered cities like Asul’onn and Cerulin became tributary states, having a mandatory quota of riches and wealth to deliver to the Hou-Zi empire every year, the cities themselves remained elven in population, but ruled by a Hou-Zi elite. This tenuous peace lasted for awhile. Malin was no fool, and realized that the monkey king Hou-Shen was intent on conquering all of Axios and wiping the Kingdom of Malinor off the face of the political map. Both the Hou-Zi Empire and Malinor had been rebuilding their armies. War seemed inevitable, and indeed reignited after the 100 year ceasefire. However, Hou-Shen’s attempt to annex all of Malinor would lead to his ultimate downfall. The Hou-Zi Empire’s plan to win the war quickly was to strike at the city of Malinor (named after the Kingdom) which was situated on the isle of Malin itself. Malinor City was the beating heart of the empire, as well as the home of Malin and all his key advisors. The City’s fall would throw the rest of Malinor into chaos and ensure Hou-Zi domination in all of Axios. The battle for Malinor City was long and bloody, and ravaged the entire isle of Malin. It pitted the best of both species against one another. The immortal monkey king Hou-Shen led the Hou-Zi offense personally, with all three of his sons at his side. The Elven Forefather Malin headed the fierce defense of the city named for him, with his chief advisors fighting alongside him. Stories vary, but the end result is all the same: Hou-Shen fell in battle. Some say that he was poisoned by a brave elven slave he had indentured in his service. Some say he was shot through the heart by Irrin Sirame. Some say he died against Malin himself in single combat, impaled through the chest by the elven forefather’s legendary falchion, blessed by the Aspects. The death of Hou-Shen dealt a fatal morale blow to the Hou-Zi army. The loss of the king they thought was immortal sapped many monkey-men’s will to fight. In dismay out of loss of their father, the three sons of Hou-Shen called for a retreat. Much of the Hou-Zi army was cut down by the vengeful elves, while the three sons escaped. Many Hou-Zi prisoners were taken, and many were subject to subject to horrific torture at the hands of the Elves, who for so long had been tormented by Hou-Zi kind. The momentum of the war did a full 180 after that. Malin ordered the complete reconquest of all lands formerly taken by the Hou-Zi empire. The elves stormed western Tahn first, liberating the city of Cerulin and committing a cold genocide on all Hou-Zi who had settled in the region during the 100 year peace. Women, children, and elderly were all massacred with the intent to fully exterminate the Hou-Zi presence on what was seen as rightful elven land. The reconquista continued in all other lands of the Hou-Zi, the elves retook the entirety of southern Ceru, doing much as they had done on Tahn, slaughtering any and all Hou-Zi they found living in the region. The isle of Asul became the last holdout of the once great Hou-Zi empire. The city of Asul’onn, which had been under the Hou-Zi yoke for 150 years, was liberated by an elven army led by Irrin Sirame. The Hou-Zi elite which had run the city were publicly executed in front of a throng of cheering mali. The Hou-Zi which did not flee were systematically slaughtered. The remaining Hou-Zi flooded into Jing-Taiyun. The first, and now last city of the monkey-men, deep in the heart of the Asul Jungle, one great capital of the now crumbled empire. Hou-Wang, Hou-Da, and Hou-Xiao, the three sons of the deceased immortal king, prepared a last desperate defense of their historic heartland. But, as it seemed, the Hou-Zi had only lived through the beginning of their terrors. A primordial deity known as “The Poison” had been watching the war closely. The Poison was an old god, unspoken of and unknown to most peoples and cultures. He was a nameless deity whose only purpose was to facilitate the collapse of civilizations well past their time. The Poison had seen the rapid crumbling of the Hou-Zi empire, and like an algorithm, set to work. Red mist seeped into the great jade halls and golden palaces of Jing-Taiyun, causing the grand spires and statues to collapse in a truly apocalyptic event. This killed the Hou-Zi spirit, and put the final nail in the coffin, they saw it as Dragur, their creator, come down to punish them for their failure. The Hou-Zi scattered into the deep Asul jungle, hoping beyond hope that this vengeful god would not follow them, or that the elves of Malin would not slaughter them to the last monkey. When Malin and his armies arrived in Jing-Taiyun, they found nothing but a ruin, an abandoned city. Seeing no battle to fight, they went home. Malinor and all its former territories had been restored. As far as the elves were concerned, the Hou-Zi would never be a trouble to them again. They were wrong. The Second Great War/The Grand Elven Alliance Distribution of territory across Axios before the second great war with the elves. As it so happened, Metzli had been watching her creations progress with a cold, calculated curiosity. She had been recording all her observations, seeing their war with Malin, their expansion, and collapsed. However, one thing bothered the daemon. She saw the total destruction of Hou-Zi civilization at the hands of the old god “Poison” to be irritating meddling, an artificial factor thrown into her experiment. She considered it her duty to undo the damage the Poison had done and let the Hou-Zi either rise, or fall, of their own merit. Metzli had captured the soul of Hou-Shen, the immortal monkey king, upon his death at the hands of the elves during the first great conquest. She had not intended on bringing him back to life, but now it had become necessary in order to finish his project. She regenerated a new body for Hou-Shen, one of pure, royal white fur, golden eyes, and a scarlet tail. Hou-Shen was reborn, and sent back to his people. The Hou-Zi people had lived scattered for around a century, surviving like the primal animals they had once been, off of nuts and bugs. Their cities had been destroyed and they had lost the rest of their empire in a devastating war. Never did they expect to recover. Yet, everything changed when their immortal king returned. Hou-Wang, Hou-Da, and Hou-Xiao, who had led the exodus of their people into the deep forests, were beyond delighted to see their father return. Hou-Shen was the beacon of hope for their people, and he would soon become the driving force which would rebuild their civilization. Through sheer force of will and effort, the immortal king Hou-Shen oversaw the reconstruction of Jing-Taiyun. The once mighty capital was made mighty once more. Through years of effort, it's jade spires and golden parapets were made gleaming and strong. The Hou-Zi worked like madmen to repair their capital city, and soon it was done. With the return of Hou-Shen came the return of the ambition of the Hou-Zi people. During the century in which the Hou-Zi had been forced to survive as savages in the deep jungle, the elven race had fractured. First the high elves, who had built their silver cities over old settlements such as Cerulin and Naeri’onn. Second the dark elves, led by a moon spirit deep into the mountains of the isle of Ceru. Finally, the wood elves, who had made their exodus into the deep forests across all Axios, forming their tribal Seeds. The stage was perfectly set, the elven race was divided and resentful of one another. Malin himself had disappeared. Hou-Shen knew that now was the time to strike if he ever wished to fulfill his lifelong dream, to conquer all of Axios and make the Hou-Zi the dominant peoples of the realm. And so, once more, the Hou-Zi spent years rebuilding their population, their army, their technology. They created more dragon-rockets capable of blasting through stone walls, weaponry emblazoned with jade, and armour of world-class durability, yet ornate enough to be divine art. Once more, the Hou-Zi poured out of the jungles of Asul, and much like before, they experienced initial success. Their first target was the territory of the high elves. Smaller high-elven outposts and towns fell quickly to the Hou-Zi, and the monkey men quickly annexed most mali’aheral territory. Next were the forests of the wood elves. The tribal mali’ame put up fierce resistance, but many Seeds were forced to retreat from their ancestral hunting grounds. The Dark Elves were the last, refusing to meet the Hou-Zi in open battle, and retreating deep into their cavern city. The Hou-Zi conquered the entire surface of the isle of Ceru, proceeding to starve out the mali’ker, who were trapped inside their underground home. Yet, despite being fractured, the elves had evolved in their own right, and the tide of war soon turned. The Mali’aheral held out in their provisional capital of Naeri’onn. They had consolidated all their power into this one city. The high elves were very advanced, and through powerful arcane magics they pushed back the Hou-Zi. Voidal wards protected their cities, while elemental atronachs fought fiercely on behalf of their silver masters, slaughtering Hou-Zi. The Mali’ker were a resourceful people. The Hou-Zi had hoped to starve the dark elves out by trapping them in their cavern city. But as it turned out, the dark elves were entirely self sufficient beneath the surface. Impatient, the Hou-Zi attempted to storm the underground city of Magara’lin, their fatal mistake. Channeling the power of the shamanistic spirits, Veluluai, matriarch of dark elves, led the mali’ker to a great victory. The ker were a race born of night, and they knew how to fight in the darkness of their caves more than the Hou-Zi ever could. The Mali’ame were made up of nomadic tribes called Seeds. They had no cities, no strongholds. The Hou-Zi army was built around capturing centres of power, which the ‘ame had none. It was made for large pitched battles and sieges. The Mali’ame refused to fight on the Hou-Zi’s terms. The Wood elves were masters of their deep forest and excellent guerilla fighters, their marksman picking off Hou-Zi soldiers from 100 meters, and their Naelu’ir druids commanding the wilds around them to swallow the monkey men into the earth. The Hou-Zi were finally forced to retreat from mali’ame lands. How each elven subrace came to fight the Hou-Zi to a standstill came from the fact that the initial subjugation of all three subraces came when the Hou-Zi army was united into one body. After all three had been defeated, the Hou-Zi had to split their army in three to maintain conquered lands. This made for smaller targets for the various elven peoples to fight. The final defeat of the Hou-Zi came from the simple principle: Nothing unites rivals faster than a common foe. Leaders from each three elven subrace met on the isle of Malin. Attending was the high elven Larihei, the dark elven Veluluai, and Taynei’Hiylu, the dragaar patron of the wood elves. They formed a grand alliance, uniting elf-kind for the first time since Malin in order to deal with the Hou-Zi threat. King Hou-Shen knew that the end was drawing near. With the elven races united, it was now all or nothing. He had to gain a decisive victory or lose his chance at having an empire forever. The gathered his army and marched onto the isle of Malin, where a coalition force of all elves had gathered. Over the long abandoned ancient capital of Malinor, elf and Hou-zi kind fought a battle of fates once more. In the end, victory came to the elves for simple reasons. The Hou-zi, with their dragon cannons and ornate weaponry simply were not enough to overcome the combined powers of the elven army. Swarms of savage beasts and cannibalistic plants commanded at the behest of ‘ame druids, torrents of hostile weather called upon by ‘ker shamans, and arcane lightning raining from the sky at the behest of ‘aheral mages. Each of Hou-Shen’s three sons were slain during the battle. Traditional elven accountings claimed that Veluluai slew Hou-Wang in single combat, as Larihei slew Hou-Da and Taynei’Hiylu tracked down and hunted Hou-Xiao. There is no proof that this particular telling is the truth. Nevertheless, Hou-Shen fled the battle in grief, and his army was entirely routed once more. Hou-Shen retreated back to Jing-Taiyun and consolidated what little remained of his army, preparing to make a final stand. Yet, in the face of destruction, the Hou-Zi people were shown an act of miraculous mercy. The council of the grand elven alliance, made up from the leaders of each elven subrace, offered Hou-Shen an ultimatum. His people would be allowed to continue living, and his capital, Jing-Taiyun, would not be destroyed. However, the Hou-Zi would never again leave the jungles of Asul, or build any settlements beyond Jing-Taiyun itself. In shame, Hou-Shen agreed. The official surrender of the Hou-Zi people was signed. The Jade Wars/Stagnation and Destruction The final territory of the Hou-Zi empire, holding the same borders with which it began. It would endure in this form for another 500 years before its final collapse. Hou-Shen abided by the terms of his surrender, and for the next five hundred years, he ruled his slowly stagnating Hou-Zi jungle empire. During the Hou-Zi golden age, and the first great conquest, the Hou-Zi had controlled nearly half of Axios. They had the resources of all their vast territories to exploit, and conquered cities and peoples in their empire to draw tribute from. As a result, wealth flowed steadily into the Empire, and the noble families of the ruling Council of Chi (the direct advisors of Hou-Shen) all had opportunities to grow rich. Hou-Zi culture was built around wealth. Society in Jing-Taiyun had always been a chaotic game of noble families perpetually seeking to one-up one another in displays of opulence and hedonism. They did this by displaying massive amounts of precious items such as precious metals, holding huge banquets, or performing great ceremonies to Hou-Shen, their immortal king. A Hou-Zi mercenary, employed by a Hou-Zi noble. Rich Hou-Zi often got into arms with one another over wealth, fame, and power during the dying days of Hou-Zi civilization. But, the Hou-Zi empire now was hardly an empire at all, controlling only Jing-Taiyun and the jungle on the isle of Asul, its ancestral heartland. As a result, much fewer raw resources were available to the Hou-Zi, and no more wealth was flowing in through tribute. Richness of all kinds became a limited, dwindling resource. Now, instead of seeking to out-do one another, the noble families of Jing-Taiyun began fighting one another for possessions. These conflicts, ranging from minor to major, were known as the Jade Wars. They were named thus as Jade was the symbol of the Hou-Zi people, associated with royalty, power, and status. It was by far the most valuable commodity and extended, violent conflicts would often erupt between Hou-Zi houses over small pieces of it. Immortal King Hou-Shen tried his best to put an end to the various Jade conflicts, but in truth, he now held little power, his de-facto authority had eroded away after the two devastating losses to the elven nations. Power was divided by the Council of Chi, who were fractured and divided into bitter rivalries. Thus, this continued for another 500 years. Hou-Shen helpless to stop the incredibly slow and painful corruption of his society, as productivity ground to a halt and the Hou-Zi population, already halved by war, slowly eroded away further as bit by bit, Hou-Zi died in petty conflicts between nearsighted nobles focused on consolidating wealth and influence. Jing-Taiyun slowly fell apart. Entire districts of the once great jungle capital were left abandoned as the noble families which had stewarded them were wiped out in one jade war or another. Gold rusted, buildings began to crumble. Enter the Poison once more. The old god began working his influence once more. This time in a far slower, subtler way. Temples began to crack at the foundations, great halls collapsed. Sickness and plagues began spreading like wildfire across Jing-Taiyun. Hou-Shen, with the weight of nearly a thousand years of defeat on his shoulders, finally had enough. One day, he simply walked into the thick of the jungle, and was never seen again. The disappearance of their god-king was a wake-up call to the squabbling, warring noble factions of the Hou-Zi. The jade wars had come to a fall stop now, as plague had rendered all factions incapable of fighting. Jing-Taiyun had become a ruin, the Hou-Zi suddenly realized what had happened to them. As such, there was only one option left to them. The Hou-Zi abandoned Jing-Taiyun, and just as they had done after their first collapse after their first great conquest, they scattered into the Asul forests. The old God poison would finally finish his work, sinking Jing-Taiyun into the earth, leaving only barely traceable ruins where a grand city had once been. Metzli had been watching all these events unfold. Initially she had felt rage that the old god had been interfering in the affairs of her creation once more. But, her rage subsided after she came to realize her creations had been a failure. She resolved to abandon the Hou-Zi to their fate, to learn from their mistakes. Metzli’s next creation would be proper servants for her cause. She would go on to make the Kharajyr. The Hou-Zi civilization had collapsed entirely once more. But the Hou-Zi had hope. They believed that Hou-Shen, their immortal lord, would return to them once more. That he would rebuild the great city of Jing-Taiyun and lead them into a third great war with the elves, one they would finally win. But, Hou-Shen never returned. Up until the modern era, the Hou-Zi never rose again. Physical Appearance The Hou-Zi are a monkey people. So, they resemble humanoid, sentient primates. Much like the Kharajyr, they too come in several sub-species. Some typical Hou-Zi, a Fei-Zi (Left) and Laobai-Zi (Right) ((Credit to Triplewing)) Laobai-Zhu The Laobai-Zi (literally: common folk) are the most common of Hou-Zi subraces. They were found all over the empire. They had fur usually in shades of brown and came in all shapes and sizes. Laobai-Zi are the more versatile and adaptable of the Hou-zi. the Laobai-Zu are said to be the line of Hou-Zi directly descended from the god-king's firstborn- Hou-Wang. Laobai-Zhu are the shortest lived of the Hou-Zi, reaching a lifespan of 80 to 100 years. Fei-Zhu The Fei-Zi resemble baboons, being by far the most colourful of the Hou-Zi species and said to descend from Hou-Shen's second son, Hou-Da. Fei-Zi are known for their multicoloured fur which can be blue, red, hues of yellow, or gold. Their faces are usually a contrast to their fur, a red-furred Fei-Zi would have a yellow face, for example. Fei-Zi are the smallest but most nimble of the Hou-Zi, being lithe in body, and around 5’ to 6’ feet in height. Fei-Zhu enjoy slight longevity, living a lifespan of 150 to 250 years. Hei-Zhu The Hei-Zi (black ones) most closely remember silverback gorillas, and are considered to have originated through the seed of Hou-Xiao, third son of Hou-Shen. Members of the Hei-Zi are most always black of fur and the burliest, strongest of the Hou-Zi subraces. They range from 6’5 to 7’ feet tall. Hei-Zhu are the longest lived of the Hou-Zi, experiencing a lifespan of 250 to 300 years. Culture The Hou-Zi developed a rich culture during their centuries as a dominant power in ancient Axios. Ancient Times The Hou-Zi were a culture that valued wealth above all else. Known for great materialism and hedonism, the Hou-Zi lavished in great displays of richness. The nobles and lordlings of the empire often made huge displays and ceremonies to show off their fortunes. Of all the symbols of wealth in the Empire, jade was the most important of them all. A jade cabbage. Naturally, all this wealth was possible due to the steady flow of tribute coming in from the conquered provinces of the Hou-Zi empire. This wealth also allowed Hou-Zi princelings to continuously out-do one another in architecture. Magnificent spires and palaces were erected in the various Hou-Zi cities. Typical Hou-Zi architecture during the golden age. Ancient Hou-Zi culture was lavish and rich beyond belief. At its heart was competition. The poor Hou-Zi would aspire to be rich and do whatever it took to get there, the rich Hou-zi would stop at nothing to display their wealth. Hou-Zi society was a constant chaotic hodgepodge of poor monkeys seeking to rise up, and rich monkeys constantly one-upping one another in a fierce competition to be the most famous, hedonist Hou-Zi in the empire. Music Bards and minstrels held great respect in old Hou-Zi culture. The Hou-Zi believed music was the purest form of communication, as it was fueled by emotion alone, and therefore came purely from the soul. Hou-Zi music tended to be slower and more somber, with melodies twisting and turning in alien ways. An Erhu, a popular Hou-Zi instrument Sport Gongfu, among other martial arts, were the most popular sport in Hou-Zi culture, and drew the greatest crowds. With a history so deeply tied to war and conquest, it's no surprise that the Hou-Zi’s national sport involved the development of martial prowess. Martial arts like Gongfu were extremely popular, and practiced extensively. Gongfu tournaments drew in crowds of tens of thousands, with noble houses backing certain athletes who would train for years on end. Noble houses sponsoring a winning martial artist would by proxy get popularity and fame, something sought after highly in Hou-Zi society. Modern Era Naturally, with their empire and great cities destroyed and most of their race killed off, Hou-Zi culture now is drastically different. A Hou-Zi village in the common era, built to be secluded. Hou-Zi now live a meager life of survival. They are mainly subsistence hunters and fishermen, living in thatched-roof huts and mud housing. The Hou-Zi seclude themselves for practical purposes, and pockets of Hou-Zi rarely see one another. When they do, they often trade simple goods. Some Hou-Zi still carry around pieces of the old empire with them. Trinkets of jewellery, or old weapons. These are highly sought after, and often traded from Hou-Zi tribe to tribe, especially any jade remaining among their people. Religion The Daemon Metzli was naturally the highest deity of the Hou-Zi. However, she was not their main diety. Metzli was known as the Awakener in the Hou-zi’s own tongue, for her role in bestowing sentience to the people. The Awakener was not actively worshipped, however, except when paying tribute to her through the spoils of the great empire. The Awakener played a background, omnipresent role in the Hou-Zi faith. However, it is Hou-Shen who captured the hearts, minds and faith of the Hou-Zi people. Hou-Shen was their immortal god, who lived generation upon generation as other Hou-Zi were born, lived and died. He seemed unkillable in battle and incorruptible as a ruler. He was worshipped as a living god among his people. A shrine to Hou-Shen, with his first son Hou-Wang presiding in front of him. Most of what little luxuries remain in Hou-Zi society go to decorating these shrines. Upon Hou-Shen’s disappearance, he went from being an actively worshipped living god to a mythical figure of legend. After the final abandonment of Jing-Taiyun, he had become a god like any other, frequently prayed to, but never truly there. Prayers in the last days of high Hou-Zi civilization often called for the return of Hou-Shen, the Monkey King, the god of their kin. In modern post-downfall Hou-Zi society, the remaining members of the species still cling to the memory of Hou-Shen. They believe he is prophesied to return some day, and bring his people back to glory. Shrines of his likeness are erected in every Hou-Zi mud village in the jungles of Asul. Modern depiction of Metzli in Hou-Zi society, shown as a wrathful dragon. Modern Hou-Shen revile Metzli, his title changed from the Awakener to the Doombringer. Any memory of Dragur creating the Hou-Zi has been wiped from the memories of the remaining members, and only resentment and anger of their civilization’s destruction remains. Dragur is a satanic figure in modern Hou-Zi faith. Language (Obviously, it’s mandarin chinese, albeit phonetically made to be a bit more english-speaker friendly and not a direct translation) The Hou-Zi language is lost to time. Any examples of it in written form were washed away by the wrath of Dragur during the purging of Hou-Zi civilization. Furthermore, the old Hou-Zi character system has been abandoned for a simplified phonetic system with letters adopted from the common tongue, which was picked up through sparse interaction with the descendant races. What is known of the Hou-Zi language to outsiders is only a smattering of words and phrases, listed below: Miscellaneous Nǐ hǎo - Hello. Nǐ hǎo ma - Are you well? Hóu - Monkey, cultural connotation: The Chosen Race Rén - People, person Huángdì - King Nǚwáng - Queen Shén - God Yù - Jade Zhǔ - Tribe, people group Cáifù - Wealth (Tā hěn cáifù: He’s wealthy, high in society) Xiōngdì - Comrade Zhànzhēng - War Shènglì - Victory Bùzhǎng - Minister (Title given to those on the Council of Chi) Place Names Jīng-Tàiyáng - Golden Sun Gāoshān - High-Mountain Dànsuǐ - Clear-water Phrases xiǎo dòng bù bǔ, dà dòng chī kǔ - A small flame is soon quenched (Destroy your enemy while he is small) Kōngxuéláifēng, wèibì wú yīn - Every why has it’s wherefore (Nothing is to be feared, only understood) Shuǐ néng zài zhōu, yì néng fù zhōu. - Water will just as surely sink a ship as it will keep it afloat. (What can help can also harm) Kě hóuzi dìguó rěnshòu wànnián! - May the Hou-Zi empire endure 10,000 years! Huángdì hóu-Shén wànsuì! - Long live God-king Hou-Shen! Yù shì hóu de xǐyuè - Jade is the joy of the Hou-Zi. Yīnjīng wèile shèng wángzǐ Ha'rambe chūlái - May we display our genitalia in memory of holy prince Ha’rambe. Modern Habitat The Hou-Zi live in areas they can survive without being noticed. This includes harsh mountain ranges, where they survive as hunters and herders, or dense forests. Currently, the only major pocket of remaining Hou-Zi is in the jungles of Asul, where the orcish race resides. However, small populations may still exist in the Giant’s Spine mountain range, or the forests of the wood elves. These would be remnants of older Hou-Zi populations who were never found, and therefore never driven out by the elven people after the collapse of the first Hou-Zi empire. Possible places where Hou-Zi still exist. Asul is the only confirmed area. ((OOC)) Why am I resubmitting this lore? 1) To get another 50 rep 2) Give ET some material to work off of (And historial background to give context to their events!) 3) Provide more depth to elven lore. This is the biggest reason for me. Most elven ancient history that exists right now involves elves interacting with other elves, culturally, war, etc. I want a foreign, alien threat for the elves to have fought, which we can tie into elven history events in the future. It adds depth and makes elven history feel a bit more rich and grander. I plan to write a FFFFFUCKTON of lore and stories about the various wars and battles fought between the Hou-Zi and the elves, from both the perspectives of the elves and the monkey men DISCLAIMERS: Anything and Everything in this lore is open to change in order to fit current Axios history Canon I’m aiming for this to be an ET/Event based race, with no real plans to turn it into a common player-played race. I would like the Hou-Zi to become a more unique and relatable antagonist to the playerbase, as there’s more room to interact with an alien but tragic people seeking to reclaim their glory, as opposed to a big evil dragon. Comparing these monkeys to easterner farfolk culture is like comparing 12th century Scandinavia to Renaissance Italy because they're both "western white people stuff", be culturally sensitive! Don't make me change who created them again...pleeeeeeeeease, I already had to rewrite that **** like 5 times because of LTs and various other people telling me [so and so daemon/deity wouldn't have created monkey people!!!] just let it be metzli. reeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Hey BTW I stayed up till 6AM to write this I may have a problem

It's one of Swgr's 'old gods' called The Poison. I don't know too much about it, I just added it in as the cause of dark elf insanity since Swgr suggested it to me as a good fit. I would recommend approaching him for more information

Vetoed out by other LT members who essentially told me 'pools are dumb'

#AllElvesMatter

((This lore has no bearing on how current dark elves are supposed to RP their characters, but instead serve as a foundation to draw upon for those whose RP heavily depends upon having a culture to sustain them. Additionally, only the main event of each chapter is essential, all other details are open to change and adapt as future lore filters in from other people)) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YzWlxbg34Y HISTORY OF THE KER “Our cousins speak of us like plague rats, yet they know nothing of us, of our struggle. The high elves, who indulge in their silver, their spires, their arcane hedonism. The wood elves, who fled to the deep woods, debasing themselves to be little more than savages. The other elven races embrace their nature. Why shouldn’t we? Why must we, the ashen kin, the pariah folk, fight against what we truly are?” ~Primarch Azul Chapter 1 - Iblees’ War Chapter 2 - Veluluai’s Mandate Chapter 3 - Curse and Exile of the Pariah Folk Chapter 4 - The Respite of Luara Chapter 5 - The Era of Magara’lin Chapter 6 - Azul’s Ambition Chapter 7 - The Final Schism Chapter 1 - Iblee’s War The history of the mali’ker, like all elves, begins in a fiery war which consumed the known world. In ancient times, while the four brothers were young, the archdaemon Iblees rose to power and sought to bend the mortal realm to his desire. The elves were a distinct race at this time, lithe and pointy eared, but it would be a long time before they developed any characteristic sub-racial features or even the infertility and long life they were known for today. During the great war, the elves were merely the sons and daughters of Malin, and had the features to prove it. As the war progressed, Iblees attacked on all fronts, isolating the four brothers. Malin and his children were pushed back to a few strongholds on what would become the isles of Axios. Slowly the war turned back into the favour of the elves. Taynei’Hiylu, the green dragon and ward of Malin pushed away much of the archdaemons’ blighted undead army. But Taynei was soon sealed away to prevent any risk of the dragaar being corrupted and turned against the forces of the living. It was at this crucial turning point that Veluluai stepped up. She was one of Malin’s original children, fair of skin, hair and eyes a shimmering green. She held a mystic beauty to her which was only matched by her wisdom. Her counsel and strategizing was crucial to the elves final victory over Iblees on ancient Axios, allowing them to rejoin their kin and finish the Archdaemon for good. Although, at a cost. “Malin, I curse you with sterility, you and your kin shall forever lack the children they need. May your forest halls forever be silent, and your hearts heavy with sadness.” The elves had not undergone drastic physical change like the dwarves or the orcs had, but Iblees’ final curse had hit them hard. In the years after the war, many a mother lamented, even took their own life due to having to look into the eyes of their stillborn child. Sorrow ran rampant among the newly long-lived, but infertile elves. However, Malin, forefather of the elves, pushed on. The war had cost him an extrodinary pupil, a dragaar he had considered his daughter. It had cost him the lives of many of his people. But he would bring his kin into a golden age. The elves- now a long-lived yet infertile people, were his to lead. In this newfound era of peace, on the lands which would become Axios, he would build his kingdom. Chapter 2 - Veluluai’s Mandate The isles of Axios, the lands which had one been a fierce battleground against iblees, became Malin’s kingdom. He had chosen this land to become the home of his kin after the children of his brother Krug became too warlike to coexist with, and Urguan’s spawn too greedy to live among. Malin set to building his kingdom. Marvelous cities which would have been alien to the eyes of men and dwarves, great halls hidden deep in the thickest forests, homes which weaved their ways seamlessly into the trees, built perfectly to co-exist with the wild, not replacing it, but becoming a part of it. The greatest settlement of Malinor was on the isle of Malin itself, an island named by the forefathers’ children as well. The city built upon this center isle of Axios was more magnificent than any other, though its name has been lost to time. It was there Malin’s throne lay, in the trunk of the eldest elder tree. It was there he ruled his people from. As Malin’s kingdom grew, he became very aware of the fact that he had to take steps to prevent another great war. Enter Veluluai. Veluluai was one of Malins’ most trusted daughters. Her wisdom and counsel had already been established as immeasurably helpful during the war with Iblees. So, Malin gave her a mandate: To form an elite order of elven scholars, to gather up as much knowledge of as many gods and immortals as possible. To learn any knowledge which might prevent another malicious deity from trying to take over the world. Proud of her new duty, Veluluai set to her task with a passion. She formed the scholarly order known as the Maehr’uhier and recruited the wisest elves of old Malinor to join her. Among them was the love of her life, Uradras, who had been a warrior during the Ibleesian war, and their son, the young Azul. Veluluai and the Maehr travelled far and wide, pursuing all manners of leads and evidence involving gods and immortals. It was during her time upon the isles of Krug’s sons that she came into contact with the shamanistic spirits. Veluluai became enamoured with their power, seeing them as more primal and relatable than other deities commonly worshipped by the elves, such as the Aspects. Veluluai studied the spirits immensely with her guild, and although she saw their cruel side, it was this relatability which drew her to convert to shamanistic worship. Eventually, her acolytes followed suit. Veluluai eventually moved on. She had accumulated much knowledge of many powerful beings by now. Xan, Tahariae, Apophet, Dragur, Malchiadaiel, and of course the Spirits. Tomes upon tomes of research which she intended on bringing back to Axios to present to her father Malin. But, on a lone isle on the way home, she heard whispers of something older. Nameless, ancient deities never worshipped or spoken of. Veluluai followed the whispers. In many ways it was a wild goose chase. She sailed down the coast of the ancient isle of Asul until she found what she was looking for. A dense jungle. While it was within Malin’s domain, the harsh nature of this jungle made it so no elf wished to colonize it, and so it remained primal and wild. Veluluai ventured inside with her guild in tow, hoping to find evidence of this ancient, unspoken of god. Chapter 3 - Curse and Exile "We had heard a crashing against the rocks the night before, during the storm. So once the weather calmed, we ventured out to investigate. We found them there, their ship a mess of flotsam, themselves ragged and strewn across the rocky beach. We approached to help them, but then they rose... there was something in their eyes.. something I cannot describe. It gave me the chills. They drew what weapons they had and attacked us. Eleyas and Maia w-were...were cut down. We ran. They chased after us, stormed into our defenseless city where we'd lived for centuries, killed everyone they saw. Some of them didn't have weapons... they just picked up sharp rocks and...and bashed at our skulls." ~A survivor’s account of Veluluai’s insanity driven attack on Vallei’onn Ruins, the massive, rotting carcass of a once great empire. Veluluai clawed her way into the heart of the Asul jungle to find the husk of an ancient city. It appeared once to have been made of gold, but was now rusted and rotten. Its’ once gleaming, twisting spires and statues now crumbled and fallen. She was amazed, as the architecture was certainly not elven, yet also afraid, as she could sense disease and decay in the air. Nevertheless, she pushed on with her followers behind her, into the heart of what had once been a grand palace. Standing in the decay of the great hall, something incredible happened. Red mist engulfed Veluluai and her order. They collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain and clutching their heads as if their souls were being torn from their bodies. When the mist faded away, all of them ran like startled cats, they ran not out of free will, but as if an ancient, deific presence was compelling them to. Veluluai and her people were shaken beyond belief, and quickly boarded their ships to sail back to Tahn and return to Malin, but gradually the true nature of what had happened to them began to set in. It was as if their minds were no longer their own, as if they had gone insane. It came in lapses, but the oarsman of Veluluai’s ship lost control of his head, steering into shoals and running the vessel aground. They survived, and found they had crashed nearby a coastal town within Malinor. The nature of Veluluai and her followers had changed, the very core of their inhibitions. No longer were they creatures driven by reason and logic, but now by emotion and anger. The Maehr scholars raided and pillaged the coastal town, killing many innocents. They did this not for any logical reason, or any material gain, purely out of the anger and confusion which had been cursed into their hearts. Of course, word reached Malin of what the time was an unheard of amount of violence between elves. He was devastated, first at the needless loss of life, and second at the fact it had been Veluluai who had done it. She had, after all, been a favoured daughter of his. Be that as it may, Malin still had to take swift action, yet he could not bring himself to execute one of his original daughters, even if it would be the safest option. Malin exiled Veluluai and all her followers to roam the icy isle of Ceru, never to return to the mainland or dwell among the rest of elf-kind again. Chapter 4 - Luara’s Respite Veluluai and her people landed upon the isle of Ceru. Not acclimatized to the icy peaks and rigid pines of the isle, they quickly began to starve and freeze. They formed rudimentary camps and did what they could to survive, eating pinecones and twigs. Veluluai grew desperate. It was already hard for her to control her mind, the curse of the unnamed god she had encountered deep in the Asul jungle had halted her inhibitions. Sometimes she saw some of her people freezing by a campfire, and simply felt the desire to kill them, and she couldn’t think of any reason why that would be wrong. Her mind would reel after, when her morals returned to her. Unable to take it anymore, she made a pilgrimage high into the mountains. At midnight, with a full moon above her, she collapsed to her knees on the highest peak. She broke into tears and prayed fiercely to the Shamanistic spirits who she had grown so close to. She prayed for strength. She prayed for her family. Her love, the mighty Uradras and their gentle son Azul. Above all, she prayed for her sanity. No spirit answered her, none but one. Luara, the reflection of the moon, shimmered to life before Veluluai in the form of a great white wolf. Luna beamed down upon the great beasts’ mane as she presented herself before the weeping mortal. Luara spoke to Veluluai, softly, like a mother. She told the elf that she could restore her sanity, and that of her people. But, there would be a price. With spirits, there was always a price. Veluluai eagerly agreed, not wishing to spend one more moment living with her mind torn. Luara ascended back to the moon, and a beam of Luna’s high gently filtered down unto Veluluai. Her skin began to turn ashen, her eyes, one a beautiful shimmering green, became a dark gleaming red. She looked down upon her now blackened grey body with horror, this was the price Luara had demanded. Veluluai returned from the mountains, back to her people, who now all also bore the ashen skin that she did. They were shocked and horrified, worse still were the eyes of Azul and Uradras, who would follow Veluluai to the end, but now seemed horrified at their sudden ashen transformation, horrified at themselves, and what Veluluai had done to make them this way. Veluluai steeled herself and explained the pact she had made. Veluluai pointed to the full moon above them. Their sanity would remain stable while Luara’s presence presided over them. In return, their skin had been made dark, to fit the night in which Luara thrived, as nothing should be pale and lovely as the moon, but the moon itself. The Dark Elven race had been born. Chapter 5 - Era of the Magara’lin With the blessing of Luara’s moonlight having restored Veluluai’s sanity, the wisdom and intelligence she had displayed before her curse resurfaced. She knew that her people were no longer creatures of the light. On top of that, the isle of Ceru was a cold, inhospitable place. There were hot springs and heated caverns inside the mountains, so Veluluai ordered the dark elves to dig. And dig they did, over the next several years they excavated great expanses of tunnels and caverns. In these, they built their homes, and inside them they thrived. Great cities were built, carved into cliff-faces and great cavern openings. These cities were decorated with shrines to many spirits, most to Luara of the moon. Most cities had a place where light filtered in from the surface, a place where dark elves could go to catch moonlight. Veluluai named her new budding underground kingdom Magaralin. Land of Caverns. Several clans formed during this time. Prominent families who would find themselves in roles of government and leadership in Veluluai’s new kingdom. Among these were the Oussana, the Des’nox, the Ravexi, Klaren, Zanexes, Taloha, Shadeleaf, Nightheart and Ipos. The dark elven population grew over time. From the hundred or so of Veluluai’s original followers to thousands. Elven infertility got in the way, but time and persistence beats all. Veluluai was of course the leader of the new Dark Elven nation. Her title was High Matriarch and she had a council of three lower Patriarchs beneath her to give her counsel. Among them was her lover Uradras, who was the strong arm of Magara'lin, forming the masked Vindicators to keep peace in the cavern streets, and Azul, the gentle bookish son who imparted his knowledge to his mother, just like Veluluai had done for Malin. Culture in Magaralin revolved around the spirits, Luara paramount over all, and a new form of faith which had developed- Ancestral veneration. The practice was born from various family clans and spread to the rest of the dark elves. The theory was that even with Luara’s blessings, the mali’ker were not entirely free of insanity. Their ancestors, however, had been. The dark elves began leaving offerings and seeking the guidance of their ancestors, hoping the ghosts of their family members who had lived before the burden of the curse would guide them. After all, who better to guide your actions than your own family? Your own family from a time before they were cursed. Even with ancestral guidance, Luara was still the paramount deity of the dark elves. It was her that Veluluai had made her pact with, after all. The mali’ker practiced regular sacrifices to her. Sacrifices were made to her regularly, livestock, blood, among other things. Spirits are prideful beings by nature, and the lengths the mali’ker went through to satisfy her pleased Luara greatly. Of all cultural practices among the Dark Elves of ancient Magaralin, the Kervira was the most important. Once a year, on the night of a full moon, the mali’ker would all make a pilgrimage from their cavern homes, up into the surface to the mountain peaks, where special moon temples had been built. There, the mali’ker prayed fervently to Luara and basked in the moonlight, letting the blessing of the moon keep their sanity intact, as prolonged contact without lunas’ touch would render them insane as the old gods curse had sentenced. With the guidance of their ancestors, and Luara’s moonlight blessing, the dark elves had begun to fully overcome their curse and had developed a prosperous lives for themselves in the cavern expanses and grand underground cities of Magaralin. But, this was not to last. Chapter 6 - Azul’s Ambition https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vt5Mxm7BPhM “Who are you to claim what is best for us? You, whose actions have brought us nothing but misery. You are why we were forsaken by Malin. You are why we must spend our lives appeasing a tyrannical spirit. YOU, mother, are why we must hide in caves while our cousins forge their own destiny.” “My son, you speak as if I willingly sought out our curse. As if I had any other option than to seek the blessing of the moon mother. I beg you to see sense, our temporal urges are not our nature. They are a burden laid upon us by a malicious god. I implore you, child, do not pursue this dark path. Come back to us.” ~Exchange between Veluluai and Azul As the culture of the the dark elves, Veluluai and Magara’lin slowly set into a comfortable rhythm, one mali’ker slowly became more jaded and bitter over time. Azul, the firstborn son of Veluluai and one who sat on the council of Patriarchs, ruled by his mother. Azul was a studious man, he, unlike many dark elves at the time, had been present when the old god Poison had inflicted the curse of insanity. He had watched his own skin turn dark. Azul had been on diplomatic missions to the various cities of the Mali’thilln high elves, and the deep forest tribal Seeds of the wood elves. Neither of the other two subraces were the old original children of Malin he remembered. He began to see things differently. Why were the dark elves the pariah folk? The exiles? Were the rest of elf-kind not as mutated as they? Were their mindsets no less changed? The wood elves enjoyed their forests and the high elves their silver spires. If the other descendents of Malin could embrace their true nature, why must the dark elves abstain? Why must the mali’ker serve a prideful shamanistic spirit to keep their most basic inhibitions at bay, when they should be embraced? Azul knew that to publicly swear off the moon’s sedating light and to scorn Luara would be political suicide, so he was cautious. He created a conclave, a small group of likeminded mali’ker, and slowly this group grew, right under the nose of Veluluai. Perhaps out of vanity, he named this secret faction the Azulites. He prepared to strike, but tactfully, for he loved his mother and wished no harm upon her. The two met on the peak of the highest mountain in Ceru, on the night of a full moon, under the shelter of a temple to Luara. They met not as political opponents, but as mother and son. They spoke of small things, of Azul's childhood, of their lives before the curse. They teased Uradras, their father and husband respectively, for how buffoonish and stoney he was. Then, the conversation turned to ideology. Veluluai was no fool and knew what had been brewing in her son's mind. The debate began gently, then escalated, emotions flared, not even the calming light of the moon could dampen the passions of the two mali'ker. Towards the end, Veluluai's anger bled away, and instead she simply began pleading. Pleading for her son to forget all this, to see how foolish it would be to embrace insanity, embrace the curse. Azul, looking into his mothers eyes and seeing her sorrow, seemed to agree. The pair calmed down. Azul poured them both a glass of vine and proposed a toast to their family. They drank, Veluluai choked, and fell to the floor, unmoving. Azul had tried to maintain a composed, stoic gaze, to no avail. He fell to his knees and wept before the body of her mother, wept until the moon was nearly gone, and the sun had almost risen. He had not wanted this, but he saw no other way. He loved his mother, more than anything else, but duty came before love, and it was his duty to free his people. The violence began shortly afterwards. The Azulites saw their chance and would make guerilla attacks on populated areas and cities in Magara’lin. They would burn down taverns, farms, and kill civilians. The Azulites fought with savage insanity, as they lived deep underground and avoided the moon, Luara’s blessing no longer was there to preserve their sanity. Above all targets, the Azulites would storm and burn down as many shrines and temples to Luara as possible, her priestesses horribly mutilated then killed. Uradras was crushed by the death of the love of his life, and was distraught at the actions of his own son, but he had no choice but to fight back. He formed the holy order of the Div'cruan, a gold-masked elite wing of the Vindicators whose job was to root out Azulites and sympathizers. They did their job brutally, capturing and burning anyone they suspected to be an Azulite cultist, in the name of Luara and the Ancestors who guided them. The war had truly become a contest of wills between two men. A father and a son, but the former was very clear on the status of that relationship. Azul had once been his pride and joy, but Azul had taken his lover, he was guilty of matricide. He was no less corrupt than a ghoul or a lich. As far as Uradras was concerned, he had no son. And so the schism war continued. Uradras against Azul, Vindicator against Azulite. During this time, the culture and traditions of Magara'lin came to a standstill. Veluluai had very much been the cultural mother of the ker, and everyone was simply too busy either fighting or surviving to offer much to Luara or their ancestors. Slowly, the fighting turned in the favour of Uradras and the mali'ker who believed in order, sanity, and the blessing of Luara. The Vindicators were simply better armed than their Azulite counterparts. The Azulites were burdened with the growing curse of insanity which came from their voluntary isolation from moonlight, this made them more disorganized, savage. It was Azul himself who managed to maintain any semblance of order in his cult. Yet, on the last year of the war, Azul was captured, a covert Div'cruan operation finally managed to pin down his location and take him alive. He was draped his chains and taken to the Magara'lin throne room, presented to his father. Uradras, who had always been a stone-hearted warrior since the days of Malin, looked upon his son. He saw savage, wild eyes staring back at him. Yet, in that moment, he felt something he rarely had in the past, sympathy. Yet, Azul had torn apart the mali'ker at their foundations. Punishment was necessary, but it was not in his hands. It was in Luaras', whose patronage Azul had fought so hard to free himself from. Uradras took his son onto the same mountain top where Veluluai had been killed. It was once again a night of a full moon. There, with his son before him in chains, he bellowed to the sky, pleaded for the moon mother to descend down upon him as she had with Veluluai so long ago. And she did. Luara, the great white wolf appeared before father and son. She knew why they were here, she had been watching the war. Uradras implored the moon spirit to deal justice upon his son, but not to kill him, as he could not bare to lose the last of his family. Luara promptly agreed. But, like always with spirits, there was to be a price. Tentatively, Uradras accepted this. Azul screamed, struggling against his chains as the moonlight burned into his skin, his pupils dissolved and his eyes became a solid, monstrous red. He then fell to all fours, panting and growling, like a feral wolf. The moon spirit spoke, gently, but with a malicious chill. "I have given him the insanity he so fiercely fought for. His mind is gone from him entirely. From now until the end of time, he will be like a savage beast, free from the sentience I so graciously helped your people preserve. You wished him to live, and I will ensure he does so, until the end of time. He shall never die, and he will never sleep again. Let this be the fate of those who break my pact." Uradras' heart was shattered, for this was a fate worse than death for his son. Yet he knew he could not argue with a spirit. He dragged his son deep into the Magara'lin caverns, deeper than anyone had ever gone. He chained him there, watching Azul howl and struggle like a dog. It is said Azul is still there in the modern age, tragically immortal. Unable to think, unable to sleep, unable to die, struggling against his chains. The rest of the cultists had fled. After all, they operated on embracing their curse of insanity, and without Azul to guide them, order broke down. It became easier for the Vindicators, guided by Luara and the whispers of their Ancestors, to track down and burn the remains of the Azulite army. Chapter 7 - The Final Schism The war came to no true end, but instead a slow, painful decline. Being unable to hide and having lost most of their organization, the Azulites fled from the caves and back out onto the surface, where no Mali’ker had lived in centuries. They knew that the order-loving Luara worshipping elves and their vindicator warriors would not pursue them there. The Azulites scattered across the four corners of the world, creating a large diaspora. The result was many dark elves in many different nations, often self assured, cocky, and to varying degrees, insane. Even to this day, the descendents of Azulite dark elves remain across many settlements across the various continents the main races have settled in. Meanwhile, many dark elves remained in Magara’lin. They held true to Luara and the ancestors, but with their Matriarch Veluluai dead, a void had been left in their way of life. It had been her who had led the Kervira on every full moon, and her who had been the heart of government. Uradras called upon a conclave. The clans of the mali’ker and the remaining primarchs met in a council. There, the Des’nox, Oussana, Ravexi and Zanexes among other families and dignitaries came to an decision: Without Veluluai to guide them, Magara’lin was no longer sustainable. After sending out envoys, the dark elves got word out that the mali’ame of the deep Seeds had recently migrated and formed a new city on the island Malin himself had been born on- Aegis. They decided that it was time to finally make the great exodus out of the cavern expanses under the isle of Ceru. It was time to rejoin the rest of their kin. The mali’ker were a stable, sane people now, their internal troubles were behind them. Azul had been right about one thing, all the elves were equally mutated now. No longer should the dark elves be the pariah folk. It was a harsh journey, and the great fleet the mali’ker built was hit with rough waves, but they made it onto the shores of Aegis and found the fledgling city of Laurelin. The mali’ame, weary of their own recent civil war, welcome the dark elves with open arms. And that was the end of it. Over time, the dark elves intermingled and interbred with the wood elves, creating more of a cultural melting pot. It would be a few decades before they started to purify their bloodlines. Until then, they began to forget their ways, losing themselves in the common lifestyle of Laurelin. Luara, the moon spirit, seemed not to mind that her people had forgotten her. Or did she? Many a dark elf would have insane tendencies over the years to come. Many, but far from all. An era had certainly passed, and some believed it would never return. But, like the waning and waxing of the moon, nothing is truly gone forever. CREDITS Concept, supplementary lore, main plot outline: Swgrclan Dakirennis Smawton Writer: LeoWarrior14

Glory to Waldenia...

yes

((It has been my longstanding goal to make all elves lactose intolerant and I decided to take everyone else down with me)) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBecM3CQVD8 Iblees, the Archdaemon, is well known in all societies of Axios. He is the grand antagonist, the one who put the iconic curses on the four main races of the realm- Men, Dwarves, Elves, and Orcs. Iblees was known to want to meddle in all aspects of the descendant races’ lives, and in many aspects he succeeded. Short lifespan, greed, infertility and bloodlust permeated and dramatically changed the society of each race. However, unbeknownst to us all, Iblees had cast subtler, unnoticed hexes upon our people before his demise… The Dietary Curses of Iblees What mortal being can live without food? Wars are fought over it, from the means to grow it, to frivolous things such as spices to enhance it. Food controls the world in many ways. In the archdemon's eyes, it was an excellent way to hamper the growth of his longtime enemies. So, during the course of the first great war, Iblees set about formulating and chaining the various peoples of the realm to his dietary laws. The Elves “Malin, you whose people cherish their goats and their cows, who delight in milk of the udder and your many fragrant cheeses… May your bowels constrict at their consumption, may your stomaches turn, and your skin grow sickly. Never again shall your people enjoy the delights of the dairy.” Malin’s people had long been fervent enjoyers of the fruits of other animals udders. Milk was a staple at elvish dinner tables, and old Malinor boasted a variety of cheeses, what is today known by Auverngian titles such as brie, gouda and camembert was once known by ancient elven names lost to time. Iblees’ dietary laws hit the elves hard, as all of malin’s children found themselves quite lactose intolerant. A hole had been cut in a major part of the elven diet. However, as the elven subraces diverged, each elven people found themselves building up a tolerance for various dairy products, while developing weaknesses to others. Wood Elves The Mali’ame are perhaps the worse off, with no real tolerance for any dairy product. However, the curse effects them more mildly as a whole. Wood elves can consume milk and cheese, but will surely find themselves hit with waves of heavy nausea, constipation and vomiting should they eat any more than a small amount. Dark Elves The Mali’ker are a hardy people, and therefore eat hardy foods. Over time, their stomachs have built up a slight tolerance to heavier cheeses such as cheddar, and gouda. However, softer cheeses like boursin make them seriously ill. Milk is still a major weakness for mali’ker. High Elves The Mali’aheral enjoy more delicate foods like tea and cakes. As milk gradually became a staple again in high elven diet, the race grew slightly more tolerant of it, although guzzling large amounts of milk will still make a high elf seriously ill. However, High Elves have no tolerance for hardier cheeses, the likes of which the dark elves enjoy. The Dwarves “Urguan, I see all, and I observe your people delighting in the joys of the water. May your brothers in the mountains never again enjoy the kingly crabs of saltwater, may your skin swell and turn to rash as you consume the crisp shrimp of your cavern pools.” Shellfish had been a delicacy among the dwedmar before the war with iblees. Their kin dwelt mainly in the mountains in-land, but some coastal settlements existed. This made seafood an accessible, but rare food item in most of the dwarven kingdom, and therefore one highly coveted. Of all seafood, shellfish was the most highly coveted. It’s popularity began when Urguani ministers fed them to Khorvad cultists as a torture method, thinking lobsters to be cruel and unusual. However, seeing that the Khorvadites infact really enjoyed the grilled lobster, shellfish quickly became a must-have throughout Urguan. Iblees however, nearly put an end to that. Mountain Dwarves Historically, mountain dwarves have been more likely to live by the sea. Stubborn creatures, they were determined to overcome their shellfish curse. Crabs were the most common catch among mountain dwarven fishermen, and as such they ate and ate, enduring allergies and rashes and the occasional death until they could more or less enjoy crab meat again with only minor skin itches. Cave Dwarves Much like their mountain cousins, cave dwarves were stubborn and sought to overcome their curse. The most readily available shellfish to them was a special species of shrimp which swam in underground caverns in which the cave dwarves dwelled. Consuming them gave the cave dwarves swollen skin and constipation, and still does, but they learned to conquer it without dying. Eventually. Forest Dwarves Probably the worst off of the dwarven races, forest dwarves were not as fiercely stubborn in the face of curses like their cousins, and as such never incorporated shellfish into their diet. There is no shellfish which they can really tolerate, and they develop fatal swollen skin if they consume it. The Orcs “Krug, fiercest of the brothers. Your kin have adapted well to the jungles, harvesting the almonds and cashews which bare fruit on your trees. I curse you to never again consume such harvests. May the touch of hazelnut blister your skin, and may cacao close your throat.” Deserts and jungles were the primary home of the ancient orcs. As such, farming was not something which could be done easily. Nuts, however, were easy to cultivate, especially as many species were indigenous to the orcish jungles. Cashews, almonds, hazelnuts and so forth became staples of orcish culture. With iblees’ curse, the orcs became intolerant of nuts. In major cases, consumption of them would constrict their throats and make them suffocate to death. Rashes and vomiting were common in lesser cases. As such, the orcs turned to hunting as their main food source. Uruks Uruks are the worst off of the orcish races, being able to consume no nut without getting seriously ill. Uruks have tough stomachs and can usually keep down even rotten meat, but nuts they cannot handle. There is always a chance they will suffocate if they eat them. Goblins Goblins seem to be able to eat cashews. The reason for this is unknown. Ancient goblins seemed to take this as a point of pride, believing themselves stronger than iblees’ curse. Ologs Ologs have stomachs of stone. Iblees curse seems to barely affect them, as they can guzzle down mounds upon mounds of nuts without ever breaking a sweat, with one exception. Peanuts. Peanuts seem to be absolutely fatal to ologs, and consuming even the tiniest fraction of one will kill it outright. The Humans “Last and youngest of the brothers, Horen. Your cities stink of butcher shops and pig pens, but no more. May the flesh of your livestock turn your stomachs, may the skin of poultry blister your skin, and pork ruin your innards.” Iblees seemed to have been out of strength by the time he performed the human’s dietary curse, as the race seemed to have been hit the lightest. The curse of meat on the human race seemed to effect each sub-race differently, as each was capable of consuming some meats completely fine, while others not so much. Heartlanders The heartlanders long practiced animal husbandry. Cows, chickens and sheep were the most common, and therefore they had no real issue consuming these. Wild animals, however, cause heartlandic humans to turn seriously ill, causing vomiting and even heart failure. These include the meats of buffalo, wild pheasants, and wild boar. Curiously, deer, elk and caribou meat seem to be fine. Highlanders The hardy men from the frontier have no trouble consuming hardy foods, meats included. The wild animals they hunt they eat without much problem, as well as the more winter-friendly domesticated livestock they hold, such as goats and sheep. Highlanders, however, seem to have trouble with duck meat, veal, and some mutton. Farfolk Farfolk is a diverse blanket term for many human peoples, but by in large, the most commonly stomached meats of farfolk-kind are lamb and beef. For some reason, pork is intolerable to the stomachs of farfolk, which is why it has been labeled as “haram” in many farfolk cultures such as the Qalasheen.

Please do not comment unless you are the nation leader of either faction.

Fair enough

(Fucks sake LOTC don't censor the swear words I'm sure the kiddies can handle it) The Story of Croaker Chapter One A young boy of twelve skipped through the bazaar. He was a twiggy thing, with pale blue eyes and skin several levels paler than the common folk around him. His clothing was threadbare, barely a step up from a potato sack. Nevertheless, the boy wore a smile on his lips as he navigated the series of colourful tents and stalls which towered over him in the city of Jedih. The bazaar sold all manner of wonders. Dark-skinned merchants wrung their hands and bartered furiously with customers, selling spices, fruits, weaponry and exotic animals in cages. Multi-coloured lamps were strung from stall to stall, casting a colourful illumination below. The denizens of the bazaar gave the boy sour looks as he skipped by, no doubt thinking him to be a street urchin or beggar at best, and a pickpocket at worst. The boy did not mind, and made his way straight to a short stall selling a variety of sweets. The stall-keeper, like the others, narrowed his eyes at the child, but his expression brightened when the little thing fished two silver pennies out of his patchwork pockets. He put a sweetroll in a paper bag and handed it to the boy, who slapped the coins on the counter and dashed away happily with his prize. The sun had begun to set as the boy made his way home, clutching the packaged sweet like a treasure. He intended to share it with his mother, such luxuries were rare for either of them. The coins to buy them with had been a gift, a present bestowed on him by a girl at the whorehouse who had been tipped extra by a client. Most of the women at the whorehouse knew him and were fond of him as a little nephew, for they were all colleagues of the boy’s mother. The boy turned into an alleyway, and heard a coarse voice shout from behind him. “Hey, Bastard!” He froze, then turned. Three older children, perhaps two or three years above him stood at the end of the alleyway where he’d entered from. It was too dark to make out their faces, but he could see their sneers. Ahmad, Farid and Hassan. The boy clutched the sweet tighter to his chest and bolted down the alley. “STOP!” “GET BACK HERE, WHORESON.” A chase ensued, the boy lept over crates and ducked under bars, he twisted through the winding urban alleyways with the three older children in hot pursuit. The boy took a sharp left turn and clambered over a wooden fence, hoping he could lose them by taking an unusual route. He ran further, then skidded to a stop, realizing in horror he had led himself to a dead end. The three bullies finally caught up, wheezing and panting, their faces red with exertion and fury. “What did we tell you before, bastard boy?” Ahmad growled, his raven-black eyes glinting maliciously as he approached the child, clenching his fist. “Didn’t we tell you running ain’t gonna do you no good?” The boy pressed himself against the wall, shivering with fear. He knew it was the truth, but what was he supposed to do? Let himself be brutalized? These three children had no reason to treat him this way, they were as poor as he, barely a step up from street urchins. They were no less dirty and their clothing no further from being potato sacks. Perhaps they preyed on him because they knew their fathers, and he did not. Perhaps beating up a bastard, the only thing lower than them, gave them solace in their own place in life. Farid and Hassan gripped each of the boy’s arms and pinned him tightly to the wall, while Ahmad swung his fist into his spleen. The boy jerked violently on impact and let out a pained whimper. This continued for awhile, Ahmad laying several more harsh blows upon the child’s abdomen before instructing the other two to let go. The boy fell, collapsing to the ground and curling up into fetal position, sobbing. “Worthless lil’ s-hit.” Ahmad launched a kick at the boy’s rib. The boy croaked. “What was that?” Ahmad grinned, looking at his dark skinned cohorts. “What’d I just hear? I think that’s your new name! Croaker croaker!” He looked back down at the boy. “What’s your name?” “Al..Alexandros.” He replied feebly. Another kick, harder this time. The boy choked another sob. “Your name is Croaker. You understand?!” Willing to do anything to make it stop, Croaker nodded. “You better fackin’ remember it, bastard.” Ahmad picked up the packaged sweet which had fallen into the dusty road. He unwrapped it and peeled it apart, sharing it with Farid and Hassan as they lumbered away, grinning and chanting to themselves. Croaker Croaker better run You’ll be croaking when we’re done Croaker Croaker gonna cry? We’re gon’ piss in your w-hore mom’s eye. Croaker lay there, curled up in the dust and weeping. He should have known this would happen. Of course those three would know he’d been given the two pennies. He was lucky they didn’t catch him on the way to the bazaar. As he slowly ran out of tears, he began to wonder. If he had known his father, if he wasn’t a bastard boy, surely this wouldn’t happen to him. But, who was his father? “He had brown skin, but not dark like the people here. Fairer, like toffee.” Croaker’s mother dabbed a wet cloth gently on her son’s lip, wiping away the dried blood. She was fair-skinned and raven haired, with emerald eyes. Not unheard of, even in this southern land of Qalasheen, as women were sometimes taken in raids and sold off to brothels. Croaker’s mother was one such woman, taken at a young age. “His eyes were beautiful. Blue as the sky. He said he got them from his father, and now they belong to you.” She poked her son’s nose and smiled gently, which elicited a tired smile in turn from the boy. It was true, Croaker’s eyes were a striking shade of light blue. “But what was he like?” He implored to his mother, blue eyes pleading for more information. She maintained her gentle smile and scooped her fingers into a wooden canister, applying a herbal salve to the blooming bruises on the boy’s bare chest. He grimaced and flinched, causing the shoddy cot he sat on to creak. “He was gentle, and quiet. He didn’t say much, he seemed sad. There was a stone in his heart, weighing it down.” She finished applying the remedy and gently placed her hands on the boy’s chest, guiding him into lying down, then pulling a tattered blanket up to his shoulders. Croaker could feel the sleepiness seep into him, but kept his eyes half-open to squeeze in a few more questions before bedtime. “What was his name?” His mother smiled sadly at him and shook his head. “I never learned it, sweet boy. He was..” She faltered. “He was just a client.” Of course. She was, after all, a w-hore. He knew it, she knew it. She then turned about and fell into the sleeping roll only a few feet away from his. They shared the same one-room low ceilinged hut. She blew out the candle, engulfing them both in dark. “Good night, Alexandros.” Three months had passed, and once again one of the working girls at the whorehouse had given him a gift. Three silver pennies. Evidently a particular patron of the brothel had been extra generous that day. Croaker made his way to the Jedih bazaar, taking wayward alleys and hidden paths. It had been months since he had seen the sneering faces of Ahmad and his two minions, and he had learned to keep well away. The towering stalls, exotic goods and dazzling lights of the bazaar were just as they always were. The thrum of bartering pervaded in every corner and nook of the market. Croaker made his way to a thick-bearded merchant whose stall was lined with an array of weaponry. “I’d like a knife please.” The boy spoke with practiced confidence, forcing himself to look up in the man’s eye. The merchant looked down at the young ragamuffin, questioning the ethics of selling a weapon to one such as this. “Do you have coin?” The man asked, his accent a thick dialect from Abu-Khourn. He eyed Croaker suspiciously, watching the boy circle about his stall and admiringly eye his wares. “Yes sir.” Croaker scurried back over to the merchant and held out his three silver pennies in both palms. The merchant scowled fiercely. “Is that all? That will not buy you a moldy platter of pita, boy. Stop wasting my time.” he waved his hand in a sharp shooing motion. Croaker obediently padded off, looking properly dejected, but he secretly wore a smirk. He had pilfered not one, but two steel blades from the merchant’s stall while he circled around. When the world sees you as nothing but a beggar, a bastard and a thief, you learn to be very good at being all three. He walked home, going down the main road. It felt alien to him by now, as he had become so used to skulking down alleyways and hidden passages to avoid attracting unwanted attention. He had dismantled the hilt of one knife and fit it inside his boot, an old sailor’s trick he’d learned from watching the docks. The other he had hidden tightly up his sleeve. He saw a shadow following him, and pushed on, turning into the same alleyway he had three months earlier. “Hey, Croaker!” He had been expecting that harsh call-out, but it still sent a wave of nausea and fear through him. Croaker planted his feet firmly in the ground and steeled himself. Today he would not run. He did not turn around, even as Ahmad, Farid and Hassan approached him from behind with a wicked grin. “I heard one of your ma’s w-hore friends gave you her w-hore money, Croaker.” Ahmad emphasized the name, knowing it to be the insult it was. “What did you buy for us today, Croaker?” “I didn’t buy shite for you, Ahmad.” Ahmad faltered for a moment, taken aback by the boy’s unexpected defiance. “You should fuckin’ know better by now you filthy whoreson!” He roared, his temper flaring as he violently gripped onto Croaker’s collar. Croaker gasped violently, the air knocked out of him as Ahmad threw him against the wall. “Tell me your name.” “Alexandros.” A violent punch to the gut. Tears sprung into Croaker’s eyes. Fear overtook him. He gasped for breath. “Wrong answer, whoreson. Tell me your name.” Ahmad’s breath was hot and seething against his skin. Croaker squeezed his eyes shut, and in that moment, he was no longer afraid. Fear was a weak sensation being swept over by something much stronger. Fear leads to anger. Ahmad screamed. Croaker’s boot had connected with his groin in a hard kick. But it was no ordinary boot, it was the boot he had hidden his first knife in. Ahmad staggered back, gasping for breath, a growing crimson stain spread between his legs as his wound bled profusely. Croaker finally had control of himself once more, and slipped his other knife down his sleeve, into his palm. Farid and Hassan paled, their eyes widened in fear. “He’s got a shiv! Run!” They were experienced street brawlers. They knew that to fight a boy with a stabbing stick was a death sentence. Ahmad was left alone, having crumbled to his knees, bleeding. Croaker stood over the older boy, his eyes cold and distant, devoid of joy. Anger leads to hate. “What’s your name?” Ahmad forced himself to look up at Croaker, a pained glare of suffering in his hazy eyes. “F-f-uck you!” “Wrong answer.” Another kick, straight into Ahmad’s rib. This one quite possibly punctured the boy’s lung. Ahmad croaked. “What’s your name?” Ahmad no longer replied. He’d gone very still, his breathing sharp and erratic. “I like my name.” Croaker said, coolly presiding over the dying boy. “I like Croaker. I like making people like you croak. Thank you Ahmad. I like this name you have given me. Can I keep it?” Ahmad did not answer. Figuring he never would, Croaker walked off. As Croaker made his way out of the alley, he began thinking to himself. Had he done a bad thing? Much as he tried to see it that way, no. Ahmad was a monster. Ahmad had beaten all joy out of his life. Ahmad deserved to die. “Hey, boy!” Croaker froze. The voice that had just spoke had spoken with authority, it was an adult’s voice. He saw two Janissaries approaching, scimitars dangling at their belts and wearing armour of lamellar. He felt a sinking dread in his stomach, these were the city guard. “Boy, we heard screaming. What in allah’s name happened here?” It must have been his unlucky day, because the Janissaries almost never cared to investigate what they knew was just some lowly street urchin being knifed in an alley. Croaker’s clothing was specked with blood. There was a knife in his palm. Even if he managed to hide it, they’d search him and find the knife in his boot. The guards would know, and justice was harsh in Jedih. He would be hanged. So, he bolted, straight down the adjacent street. “HALT! Damned rat, stop!” The Janissaries gave chase, but their armour weighed them down. Croaker ran and ran, he did not stop. He ran until he reached the city gates and ran some more. He would not be safe in Jedih anymore. Tears welled in his eyes, he wouldn’t see his mother again. Not for a long awhile. He wouldn’t be able to say goodbye, what would she think had happened to him? It was monstrous what he was doing to her. She was a slave, she lived a hard, suffering life. He was her only joy and he was abandoning her. He ran and ran until the city was in the distance, only the deserts of the Alnorid surrounding him now. He stopped at an oasis, collapsing in the grass and splashing water from the pond onto his face. He sniffled and began to lay out a plan. His name was not Alexandros anymore. It was Croaker. He could not steal for a living, not for moral reasons. It just wasn’t stable enough. He was a worthless bastard street rat, with no education or trade. What could he do? He could fight. Of course. He could fight, or at least, he could learn how to do so properly. As a younger boy he had heard of grand mercenary companies up north. Sellswords who would save entire villages outside of Wett or Novo Horos. He could be like them. So Croaker took off his shirt and turned it into a sack. He filled the flask he thankfully had with water from the oasis, and filled his new sack with the figs growing on the oasis tree. Then he began trekking through the desert, making his way north. Chapter Two Soon