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TheDragonsRoost

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  1. For those that opened this forum post, expecting to read something good from me, don’t expect this story to have a sad ending. This story tells the ending of Jarsek Myrsta, the last of the Myrsta bloodline left alive to a curse that plagued them for centuries. From his beginnings as a soldier left in a war-torn world to the gruesome end that he faced in Haelunor, he lived from 1530 to 1703. There would be no grave to mark for him save for a lone sword that he came across some years ago, a blade that shined like fire in the sunlight.

    His gravestone was his blade, which he dubbed “Phoenix Blade,” and it would remain in Atlas forever more, to be hidden in the world and never to be found.

     

    Jarsek’s killer was someone that his grandson had close ties to, but no one would be remiss of the old soldier whose blood was cursed from the moment of his birth. Let us delve into the story of “The Darkest End” and see how Jarsek spent his last moments...

     

    ~(+)=~=(+)~

    Some stories end with a dark note, but this story wasn’t one of them. It began when Jarsek was knocked out by Eros after fighting with a elfess, armed with nothing more than magic and a wand. He fell into the nightmare world once again where he saw his beloved grandson fight a daemon with the strange magic he had seen previously. The daemon was faster than his grandson, but Karren had tried to cast spells faster with the chance of burning up his cursed spirit which made Jarsek cry at the sight of how hard his grandson fought to stay alive. He screamed at the daemon as if he was beginning to succumb to the darkness within as the restraint was unlocked in this world, allowing him access to the magic within him. Jarsek would be casting spells towards the daemon to try and save his grandson, but each spell ended up fizzling as in life, he didn’t know much about magic at all.

    The daemon was winning against them both, and the struggle was enough to erupt Jarsek in a painful screeching that reverberated into the physical world as a ear-piercing scream. He wasn’t able to wake up from the nightmare since he was slipped a concentrated nightsap pill while unconscious, but he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to save his grandson, but what he did not realize was that his powers did not extend into the real world and only existed in this hellworld. This was when the daemon seized Karren and began to siphon his very soul away to the point that not even the aenguls could revive him.

    Upon seeing his grandson be seized and his essence siphoned away, he’d cry out to the daemon to take him instead. He wanted to sacrifice his very life for his grandson as he knew that the doors to the real world would be forever closed to him.

    The daemon agreed and feasted on his soul, erasing every trace of Jarsek from the world. Karren would cry out in pain as he saw his grandfather give up his life for him, but in the physical world, he died from massive injuries to his eyes and loss of blood...


    Illiran would feel as if he had succeeded in eliminating the Myrsta bloodline, which made him smile a bit. He suffered through that brat Karren and his impurity as well as killing off his grandfather with ease, but something else felt off about the whole ordeal. It seemed too easy to eliminate two members of a whole bloodline, but this would not perplex him as he wished to relish in his ill-gotten victory.

     

    Gywnevere, though while present, didn’t understand why that he had died. She also didn’t know why that she shed a tear for the fallen mali, but somehow, she knew that he had sacrificed himself to save someone he loved as a family. It would be one of either many or few good moments when someone died that she knew.

    Eros didn’t care in the slightest for the death of the mali as he considered him a mali’ata.

     

    Though Jarsek was dead, it did not mean that someone else would take up the mantle of learning about the darkness within the heart. Someone unknowing of the power of the Dark Heart, the Cursed Soul, the Fractured Mind and who would play his part to begin with a broken heart...

  2. Previous Stories:

    Part 1: 

    Part 2: 

    Part 3: 

    We have reached Part 4 in this series, ending the first arc in the “Key to Oblivion” stories. Thank you for reading the storyline so far and I hope you enjoy “The Darkness Within,” the final story of the first arc.

    ~(+)=~=(+)~

    Some stories don’t get to end with a joyous note. Others have far more twisted ends to them while the people are left with a sobering fact of life. We all can die and never come back.

     

    This was especially true to Karren Myrsta when his throat was slit back in the Druid Grove by Nivndil some years ago. He had left the world while the September Prince still roamed the land, terrorizing the population and leaving him with the sense of powerlessness that drove him to begging for death. Now, he resided in a world that offered no quarter with demons wishing to end his pathetic life so that he may never exist again. When his grandfather “dreamed” of seeing him as he was now, in the middle of transitioning into a beast of corruption and wielding dangerous magical power, he did not wish for him to see how far he had fallen and how close he was to turning into a being of pure hatred-tortured relentlessly by those that resided within the hellworld of The Pit. It was the one thing that he had wished to never lose-the good memories of him, tainted forever by how far that he had become-and the one thing that forced him to cling to dear life within this hellscape.

     

    To Jarsek, however, the sight of his grandson being a figure of pure heart and how he became something frightening was enough to break his very heart-shatter his core into millions of pieces. Ascended could not help him with this kind of problem as it affected him deeply to the point of wanting to die, but there was another force deeper within that fought to keep him alive. There was no other way for him to stay alive, broken as he was, besides taking up the darkness within his very being and letting it run free within him. Surging like wildfire and feeling cold to the touch, Jarsek would begin to learn about this driving force of Creation and even attempt to understand it through how it would react to certain situations, but however, something felt like it was being prevented from unleashing itself fully into his body, acting like a powerful restraint that would appear to be indestructible.

     

    Not a single clue on how to release that preventive restraint, Jarsek had only one option left to him at the time: begin to learn about the darkness within. This would motivate him into something that would either drive him into insanity or elevate him into power, depending on how fate had willed it. He wanted to know what this darkness was inside of him to the point of asking critical questions that would prove to be even more complex to answer as they simple to ask.

    “What is this feeling? Where did it come from? Is this part of our curse?” would three of the many questions that would plague his mind for years to come until he either gained a satisfactory answer or not. Critical questions that would endlessly plague him to the point that they would be burned forever to his core, questioning everything.

     

    Unbeknownst to even most High Elves, curiosity can be a powerful motivator for either the good or the bad choices made every second of every day, but Jarsek was the most afflicted in this case. Intelligent and witty, he would try his best to understand how this feeling within him worked and what it was truly...

     

    ~(+)=~=(+)~

    While Jarsek had this feeling within him, something else was brewing in a currently unknown continent known as Arcas. Something that was not always so simple as the lands were brimming with life and suppressing that which was attuned to the darkness, keeping it in perpetual slumber. At least, for now...

  3. Previous Stories:

    https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/179359-the-dream-part-1/

    https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/179386-cursed-bloodline-part-2/

    ~(+)=~=(+)~

    It doesn’t end. Ozais and Jarsek went into the town of Belvitz to find all the residents asleep, but strangely enough, Jarsek wasn’t feeling the darkness within him surge through his veins as it did the last time he was in the presence of his master. Even as his true name was called out, something lingered deep within his soul-eating away piece by piece of his ethereal light. He didn’t feel like something invaded his soul or was growing inside of it, but it felt hollow-empty from within. He didn’t wish to seek out the help of the Ascended, who might help him understand why his soul felt hollow inside, or seek any kind of magical attention due to the fact that Jarsek didn’t understand what was happening to him.

     

    Then he felt his mind slip, replaced with a dark hollowness that seemed to entrance him. Jarsek kept muttering how cold it felt, even though it wasn’t horribly cold in the town of Belvitz. This coldness radiated deep within his soul and if he was touched, his skin would’ve felt cold to the touch. It wasn’t any magic that affected him, unless you counted what has happened to him thus far. From the dream to the bloodline curse awakening deep within him, Jarsek has had an adventure that most people would try to back out of once they realized where the story was going.

     

    Unfortunately, Jarsek was not the type to back out and as a consequence, he would suffer great torment and pain from within.

     

    Merely half an hour passed before he regained his senses by Ozais slapping some sense back into him, but it was not without its cost. The bloodline curse took hold within his soul and then would spread to his body, slowly beginning to break it down and further exhaust the young high elf. Little did Jarsek know that some parts of his dream weren’t just symptoms of depression, but of something else. Something else that if awakened, would change Jarsek’s life forever. If people cared to notice his eyes, they could tell that the ambition had been reignited, but not in the way they would’ve expected.

     

    His eyes were carrying the Blighted Fire, a darkened flame that burned two types of colors: Black and Purple. The blighted fire wouldn’t mean much in the present time, but no one could predict what it would mean in the future....

     

    A hollowed soul...

     

    A blighted fire, reignited...

     

    The pain of rememberance...

     

    Death of one they loved...

     

    A will, shattered by false hopes and dreams, turning to ill...

     

    Something was brewing deep within the high elf that would continue to fester until it either broke him or forced him to commit acts of impurity and murder. A hunger was beginning to take form within his soul that not even he could fight alone-a hunger that would become lethal. This was something else....

     

    Something that can blight even the sharpest of sight and quench the fire within. There was an evil within that wanted free.....

  4. Name : Jarsek Myrsta
    Age : 172
    Gender : Male
    Combat Experience : Kadarsi Mamluk, soldier during the September Prince battle at Kadarsi on the descendants side.
    Is Sutica your Homeland? If not then where : No, Haelun’or and Kadarsi Caliphate.

    =======
    OOC
    =======

    IGN : TheDragonsRoost
    Discord : TheDragonsRoost#0516
     

  5. Previous story:

    ~(+)=~=(+)~

    I felt the darkness take hold when I stared into the eyes of my master Ozais, along with the insanity that strangely flowed into my inner darkness-fueling it. It felt replenishing for me to feel my blood grow cold with my darkness flowing through after decades of burying it deep within. The pain and suffering I went through.... I finally understood why I was a good soldier....

     

    The Myrsta bloodline always had some kind of darkness within them, awaiting to be awakened. From their inception, each of those within the clan-either man or woman-felt their darkness be dormant within and the urge to try to coax it awake. Some of the Myrsta bloodline-like Karren prior to his death-had a greater urge to awake and sate their inner darkness while others-like Jarsek-did not have such powerful urges. It doesn’t take much for their darkness to be coaxed to the surface, however, because darkness can come in varying forms.

     

    From wishing to know or experience dark magic to even the simplest task of killing those either innocent or otherwise, those within the Myrsta clan can coax their darkness out to the surface, but with a severe cost of losing part of themselves to their dark depths. No magic can undo this, sadly, because it is a firm belief of those within the Myrsta bloodline that those who carry Myrsta blood-even changing their name would not work-within their veins are cursed to feel their inner darkness take hold and make them suffer in varying ways, though no one is sure just how many ways this darkness can make the person suffer.

     

    Shades cannot shade those within the Myrsta bloodline due to this belief, but it doesn’t mean that they aren’t susceptible to the dark thought. When Karren was still alive and wishing to be shaded by an old friend of his, the shade felt the darkness of their family curse and threatened to not shade the boy and his “split personality” if he continued to seek being shaded. What the shade did not realize at the time was that a single act of denying Karren that which he wished to have fueled his darkness even more, even to the point of fracturing the boy’s mind.

     

    When Ozais, Jarsek’s master, looked into his eyes, he found the darkness take root within his mind-fueled by the Graven’s Eye and coaxed into being. It turned him into a soldier of darkness, making him a Dark Phoenix. To those who are not aware, a Dark Phoenix is the physical form of a Myrsta fallen into darkness-never to be returned to the light. Madness and in the presence of a dark creature made Jarsek’s darkness truly come alive and nearly wipe away the man’s personality that he worked hard to create, but even the family curse could not completely change the person they once were. They couldn’t be returned to the light by any magical means, of course, but there are always pathways back to the light if needed.

     

    Though Jarsek now felt his curse take root, that did not alleviate his nightmares about his grandson.

     

    When Jarsek was shot and knocked out in Sutica, he was sent back into that hellworld of a nightmare. This time, there was endless screaming along with the ever-burning fire and brimstone accompanying the sight of the black armored figure. It was also different in the fact that the armored figure was turning to face him directly.

     

    The figure seemed to have black eyes within his helmet and at his side, the figure had a sheathed greatsword with some kind of magical symbols on the scabbard. Symbols that Jarsek did not understand. He looked to be the same height as Jarsek, but the black eyes within the helmet seemed to be soulless, unlike his master’s eyes. The figure would begin to speak in a gravelly voice to Jarsek...

     

    “Grandfather?” The figure would ask with a sad tone. “How can you be here?”

     

    “Karren? Is that you underneath all that armor?” Jarsek would ask his grandson, almost pleased to see him once again.

     

    “Yes, but you need to leave grandfather.” Karren would say with a small undertone of urgency. “If you stay here, you won’t be able to get back.”

     

    “Back?” Jarsek would ask Karren, confused as to what he means.

     

    “To Atlas. You aren’t done, not yet.” Karren replied, sounding a little joyous to see his grandfather. “Though I wish I could hug you, you need to wake up.”

     

    “Where are you, my grandson?” Jarsek would ask, shedding tears of both joy and sorrow.

     

    “Somewhere that only the dead can survive. Barely.” Karren would reply as he would withdraw his sword in preparation of a fight. “Now go!”

    Jarsek would want to reply with saying how much he loved him and how badly he wished he was there to save his poor grandson from the darkness, but it was when he heard his true name that he felt the chains of life begin to force him awake and suffer through the pain of being shot in the arm. His anger took root as he remembered where his grandson had been this time and that made his inner darkness grow even more within. He was not going to allow himself to fall into that darkness again....

     

    He woke up in his room-hours later-as he didn’t sleep easily last night. He would have a long day ahead of him, but there was a lingering question in his head.

     

    Where would the dead survive barely and how can I get back there?

  6. The dream happened again. Jarsek wasn’t sure as to why he had the dreams of his dead grandson Karren, but something felt strange down to his core. Each dream was the same every time he closed his eyes and let his exhaustion take over from the day’s events. These dreams fueled him every day, but the fuel was mortal and it ate away at his soul little by little as if they affected him on a much deeper scale than what any magic could do to him. To those he considered friends, he looked tired more and more with each passing day. His once-glowing ambition that burned within his steel gaze had grown dimmer and colder as his essence was being affected by this strange coldness he felt within. Within the privacy of his home, he had grown sad and his intense feeling of depression had begun to ravage through his veins-sometimes even attracting attention from the outside.

     

    Though no one could understand just how sad he truly was. How badly his grandson’s death-that happened years ago-affected him and how he bottled it up. This dream that kept cropping up in Jarsek’s nighttime slumber was not helping to please him, but it made him even sadder. The dream, from what Jarsek could remember, was what he wrote in a journal before he departed to Haelun’or:
     

    Spoiler

     lake_of_fire.jpg

    Art not made by me. Credit goes to original author.


    A dream of fire and brimstone. Jarsek would appear in a giant place full of fire and lava, full of creatures that he did not easily recognize and was scared of. To this warrior high elf, he wasn’t sure why that he dreamed of the place that Iblees would call home, but nonetheless he would try to force himself to wake up to no avail. He felt like the world was too hellish for his steel-like determination, but something kept urging him to try to survive the hellish world around him. With no other chance, Jarsek would try to follow the urge as if it was his only guide in this hell he found himself in. It would continue to go through the fire and brimstone landscape until he would wake up, drenched in sweat. The high elf would, each time before he would wake up, see a black armoured figure with the strength of a hundred men with some kind of spectral black aura. A pure black aura, blacker than any dark magic he knew.

     

    Spoiler

     

    3cc2a6b8fc40104ecd77b882982197d6.jpg

    Art not made by me. Credit goes to original author.

     

    The dream, Jarsek would come to realize, was an omen. A powerful dark omen that would change his world forever...

  7. MC Name: TheDragonsRoost

    Character's Name: Jarsek Myrsta

    Character's Age: 172

     

    Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

             High Elf

     

    Transformed form:

             Graven

     

    Creator's MC Name:

             Nafari

     

    Creator's RP Name:

             Thalanil Avern

     

    Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

             

    Gravens are beings that rise from the dead, but are created by unlawful or violent deaths that was singularly devoted to an ideal or work.

     

    Unlike ghosts, they are able to manifest semi-corporeally, but remain unable to complete their tasks. All gravens are different than each other as they lived different lives and the graven (depending on how they lived) would be almost exactly as they were in life-would it be a soldier, peacekeeper, gravedigger, or even a warden. Until completion of their task (if they are able to complete it), they are unable to do anything else. They are also unable to be in direct contact of sunlight as well can be hurt by any mortal blade (steel and such can still hurt them without the need of gold or silver), which makes Gravens different than most apparition types of dark creatures. Like all apparitions, they haunt the place of their death until it is broken and given the ability to roam freely.

    If they are hurt by any kind of weapon, the energy that sustains them would be dissipated and causing them pain-even to the point of death-but they can regenerate the lost energy by performing their task that they want to complete as their task rejuvenates and replenishes the afflicted graven. That same energy (if not replenished) causes the graven to temporarily lose their ability to manifest corporeally until they begin on doing their task.

     

     

    Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

             No

     

    Do you agree to keep the MT updated on the status of your magic app by using the Magic List Errors topic?:

             Sure

     

    Are you aware that if this creature's lore is undergoing an activity trial and that trial fails, you will no longer be able to play this creature and will be forced to either revert the character back to its normal form (if it was a transformative type) or stop playing the character entirely (if it is an entirely new creature)?:

             Aye

     

    Do you consent to accepting what may happen to this character?:

             Of course

     

    Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

             Nope

  8. Previous story “The World Timeline [ET Story]”: 

    =========={(++)}==========

    “Energy. Mana. Amber. It’s all the same, but under a different name. No magic that is known to those in Atlas is destructive but yet offers creation. At least, not yet...”

    Some stories don’t end the way you expect it to. From those that offer salvation of the aeguls to those the crave eternal torment of the archdaemons, there is no greater battle than good versus evil. Yet, even though the battle is fought for millennia from the beginning of known Time, we always forget that there is no true evil or true good. Ascended are not truly pure of soul as they wish us to perceive them as and those who wield dark magic are not truly psychotic as many are led to believe. Most of those that wield the powers of the ether do not understand the true consequences of magic and nor would they.

     

    At least not at the beginning.

     

    Each one of those who wield magic are never able to scratch the true depths of light or dark and are forced to understand little. Until it begins to manifest in its own magics. Shades are merely a drop in the ocean compared to those forces that truly allow casters to do magic beyond the normal capabilities of a descendant. Necromancers are people who see no boundary between the forces of life and death, but are weak in power, even at their greatest of heights. True dark magic is never achieved by simply tapping into the soul and casting spells that remind all of their mortality, but it is when you have suffered through the very depths of pain and torment that even a daemon’s torture would seem like child’s play.

     

    That is the power that is behind the magic of darkness. The true forces of Oblivion itself.

     

    Born of suffering, of torment, and of pure rage, those that have been through Hell and back can feel their rage grow into a pure destructive force to where even those that walk in the Mindspace would be unable to quell such craving of destruction. The light within their souls becomes no more and transforms into a Black Soul, forcing no more joy or happiness to arise and only the pure dark emotions to exist. No sane person would ever wield this kind of power and survive intact, but even those driven into a pure frenzy of bloodlust, of carnage on a unheard of scale would appear to be normal folk until they let their true banners fly. Masters of concealment and trickery-while being true psychopathic monsters-those that wield this power are forever barred from the Seven Skies and those within the very depths of Hell would writhe in fear of those tormented by such dark feelings. Pure shadows of their former selves-daemonic in nature-they can never truly return to their old lives and for those that suffer in their presence, they are faced with the true face of those possessed by the very dark emotions our souls filter through. Darkened beyond the blackest of nights and eyes that become purest black, those that are faced against such a creature are never intact again....

     

    If they are lucky to escape with their lives.

     

    All of existence should tremble in fear of these that succumbed to their pain and rage, but even they are not gods. Merely creatures that live forever-that are bound to their darkest of natures and are quick to respond violently to those who dare to cross their paths.

     

    Death lives among those who notice not its presence, but its cold grasp.

     

    ==============={(++)}===============

    OOC: This isn’t an ET Story and holds no relevance to the previous story, but it is worth mentioning why I created this story. I’ve always been fascinated with dark magic (yes, it’s true) in any fictional story and roleplay server. Even on LotC, it is true that OOC’ly I am fascinated by the concept of Shade Magic, Striga, Necromancy, and even Liches (hence why they are mentioned here in the story), but this fascination is what drives me to create stories with not-yet-existing magics that have truly dark origins and have some kind of tie into those that wield it. Even the concept of Oblivion itself isn’t like my previous illiterations of it, but I strive to make it something that is powerful in its own right and yet offers itself checks and balances. Of course it can be said that I’m a “mega-nerd” for magic, but all I can say is that they aren’t wrong. I do love magic and the endless possibilities it offers to help further a story along (though only in the fantasy genre).

     

    Anyways, I do still plan to write up this magic for LotC (while my own rp version of Oblivion is not going to be on LotC since the lore wouldn’t be usable on this server) and make it possible for all to enjoy than just me. I hope you enjoyed this story “Wrath of the Darkness” and I wish you a good day!
    -TheDragonsRoost

  9. OUT OF CHARACTER

     

    Minecraft Account: TheDragonsRoost

    Discord Name: TheDragonsRoost#0516

     

    IN CHARACTER

    Name: Jarsek Myrsta

    Age: 167

    Gender: Male

    Are you a citizen of the Silver Enclave of Haelun’or: No

    Do you swear to live and die to safeguard maehr’sae hiylun’ehya: Yes

    Do you swear to protect the sovereignty of the Silver Enclave of Haelun’or: Yes

  10. 15 hours ago, Treaty said:

    Just reiterating, the ET does not support this nor would we. Idk why ET is in the title. This just sounds like a Skyrim lore knock off, and it breaks a lot of server lore. 

    Already stated in the OOC part of the story.

     

    12 hours ago, Lockezi said:

    Lockzei thinks of such events and wishes he could be as skilled as said Archdruid, the ‘ker frowning. ?

    Why you noob everything? :(

  11. 8 hours ago, LeoRabbit99 said:

    Man, as I said you really should run these post by me first.

    I forgot about that.

     

    49 minutes ago, PosidonX7 said:

    An event character like this already exists in LoTC. While this may seem like a good idea, it is already being used. Besides, you’d need permission from the ET Director and the LT to go through with this. I suggest making an ET application if you wanna get involved in events like this. It is all relative anyways. ? @Vindicant

    What event character if I might ask? Not to mention that this is merely a story that could have future reference to any eventline I do upon becoming ET. I always love to add suspense and some kind of mystery of what I do in the future to my works.

     

    12 hours ago, Slothtastic said:

    Dude seriously stop. You can’t do **** like this lmao. You ain’t ET, and have no endorsements by any of them. Besides, this seriously seems like some Thanos **** so no

    Thanos has dat infinity gauntlet, not seven artefacts. Also, the Artefacts of the Divine storyline is a starter to any future events that has ties with it (if there be any). I get that people would also hate on me for posting huge events and stuff, but this is small to me ?

  12. 1 hour ago, ScreamingDingo said:

    this was all good until you said this is a player eventline with the implication of running it and not being endorsed by any legitimate source

    No, just the guardian of the Artefact is going to be played. Besides, there will be several parts of the story before the eventline begins.

    First: Infinity Ring (Time Artefact)

    Second: Ring of Nature (Life Artefact)

    Third: Ring of Ether (Death Artefact)

    Fourth: Staff of Wild (Fire Artefact)

    Fifth: Amulet of Light (Energy Artefact)

    Sixth: Sword of Solar (Celestial Artefact)

    Seventh: Scales of Balance (Balance Artefact)

    “The World’s Timeline” is the story of the first artefact and the other stories will be about the other artefacts. Each artefact in the eventline will be useful in the next event in the story, but I’m not giving any spoilers. You’ll have to read up on them more when each story comes out.

  13. “Time is a tricky yet unstable force of nature. No mortal creature or immortal creature can understand the rules of this force and because of this, the Kha lost their powers to manipulate it and even future attempts to relearn this art are thwarted by the forces beyond mortal understanding. Those who call themselves Skygods, but I have another name for them. The Elder Gods.”

     

    When the world of mortals was made back on Aegis, it created what was known as a World Timeline. It was an intangible force of nature that all Chronomancers could access to gain information of the past, present, and future, granting them the knowledge and power to reshape history to their very whims. This did not come without its cost, though as the world of mortals had invoked the powers of the Elder Gods and they began to lose their connection to the Timeline. No one from the mortal world was allowed to change history with the knowledge gained from the future or even to have the power to alter it.

     

    That is until a certain object came into being.

     

    It was the very thing that the Elder Gods used to alter the Timeline and create a fixed point in Time. No mortal or immortal could understand it or even feel its power, but I could. Those same Elder Gods created me to guard their precious artefact for millennia and while I did, I gained information.

     

    Information that could bring this world to its knees.

     

    They gave me the knowledge to understand history and guard against it being altered. I know the Laws of Time and all the loopholes they presented, but however, I was not granted the knowledge to see how to break free of this eternal bond. I knew about the Prince and his goal to bring this world to its knees, but I could not change history. I could not tell the Descendants that they were fated to win against such a force or just how dangerous the Prince was. I could not alter the present by telling them that they were to face a threat that if not extinguished, would lead to disaster.

     

    I could not even side with them and change the future by erasing the Prince from Time. Like the druids, I was to remain neutral and do nothing.

     

    That was the law laid out to me by the Elder Gods.

     

    Now, I grow mad by this bond to the World Timeline. My mind slowly ebbs away to the Timeline and I can't escape it. My body, though immortal and never ages, is in torment and endlessly breaking down my physical strength. My very soul is siphoned away into the Timeline, never to be reclaimed.

     

    I want to be free.

     

    ~(+)=(+)~

    OOC: This is a part of a story for an eventline that has dire consequences for all who are involved. It is not endorsed by the LT, ET, Admin, GM, or World Dev Teams whatsoever as this is provides a base for the storyline “Artefacts of the Divine” that I plan to write up. There will be seven artefacts in total.

  14. There was not much to be done. Death had claimed the Prince of September after the battle of Caras Eldar, but this faithful person’s job was nearing its end. The internal struggle had taken its toll on Dreycon to the point that his exhaustion began to show its true toll on his body, or shall we say that he had perished by the very forces of nature that granted him a boon to the Prince.

     

    “You wish to do this?” Dreycon heard in his mind mere moments before his death happened. “For if you do, your soul will not be taken to the Seven Skies. You will never be able to return to this mortal world.”

     

    “I do. Take me.” Dreycon replied in his mind. This signaled something within Dreycon as if his soul was being taken from his body, siphoned away as the sword cleaved his head from his body. His murderer was granted a reprieve in the form of knowing his last words to hopefully bring her peace as she helped him depart the world of Atlas and into the Unknown.

    To Dreycon, he soon woke up inside of a tree in the middle of a lake with a ring of ice around it. This was his new chapter in his life and this was The Reaper’s Claim….
     

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