Search the Community

=The Story of Izzex= Long ago, a powerful wizard named Izzex visited our realm. His silken robes shimmering with magic, his eyes alight with wonder and curiosity at the pureness of the land. For Vailor, my child, was a far different place long ago. The ruins did not stand, the trees were not felled, the stone was not mined. Fish leapt through the rivers and animals played within the forests, carefree and peacefully. But this wizard was not of our world, and he had seen much. He knew this land would one day be settled, that one day, it would see strife. So Izzex sat upon a stone and thought long and hard, resting his chin upon his wizened knuckles. How could he stop the inevitable? How could he prevent such terrible things to befall a land so beautiful? As he sat there upon this stone, the sun smiled down upon him from above, bathing the forest in its golden light. As the forest basked in this blessing from above, it seemed to come alive before Izzex’s very eyes and ears. The trees began to whistle, the birds began to chirp, the brooks began to babble, creating a symphony of sound Izzex had not heard in millennia. With tears in his eyes at such beauty, an idea sparked in his head. This land did not need a sword, staff, nor shield to protect it from that which may destroy it. It simply needed that which he had overlooked in the past. With a grin upon his face and a goal within his breast, he rose from his stone and set to complete his quest. He started with the forests, carving out and crafting that which he would enchant with the power to protect this land for eternity. Izzex thought to himself, as to what he should make. Hearing the chirping song of the birds; he made a harp, hearing the hard working thrum of the woodpeckers upon bark for food; he made a drum, hearing the whimsical melody of the breeze through the trees; he made a flute. With these instruments in stow, he spread them out from his form and raised his hands, imbuing unimaginable power into each so that one day they might be used to protect that which they were made from. To the harp, he wove in its strings the song of newly hatched chicks, birth of one’s will. To the drum, he sewed into its fibres the song of the woodpecker’s resolve and drive, to achieve what must be done for its family . To the flute. he carved into its form the song of the wind, freedom and litheness. But this was not enough, three instruments alone could not save the world. So he set out with his instruments, stowing them away in the forests of Vailor, unbeknownst to him that one day these would be home to the children of Malin. Izzex traveled this beautiful land, observing the sculpted land of majesty with awe. To the highest and coldest mountains of the North, he found inspiration in the strong waves, smashing up against the frozen bluffs. One day as he was walking along one of these bluffs he noticed a cave hidden away amongst the ice and snow. Stepping inside he found within glittering gems and veins of rare ores of all different colors decorating the walls. With a flourish of his wrists he pulled the ores and gems from the walls, sending out serpents of flame to melt the ores and gems circling his form. Drawing the molten metals together, he thrust his arms forward, cooling his creation with a blast of wind. Izzex cradled his craft in his hands, spreading them apart before smashing them together, creating a cacophony of sound within the cavern. The wizard had created cymbals, for the land and sea work best when unified. Satisfied with this instrument, the wizard pressed enchantments of great power into the metals so that those that might hear them be as strong as the crashing waves and sturdy as the frozen bluffs. The wizard’s quest continued as he went south to the harsh deserts of Vailor, encountering a creature he had never met before. A massive beast that looked like the cross between a spider and a scorpion, or a scaddernack as the uruks call it, rose out of the sands, its colossal claws snapping; trying to devour Izzex! Its many legs and large frame were no match for the wizard though; Izzex barraged the great beast with torrential elemental spells until finally, it fell. Its massive stinger resting in the dust beside him. Curiosity struck the wizard and he set to work, removing the conical tip of the scaddernack’s stinger and carving it out into a horn. He gazed upon the fallen scaddernack and raised the horn above his head, taking in the beast features, remembering its temperament and ferocity in combat. With these in mind, he poured his magic into the horn. For all who would hear it would be driven into a state of fervor comparable to the scaddernack. Izzex left the horn amongst the remains of the once ferocious beast, for no beast but the desert itself would keep it safe. Finally, Izzex’s quest was almost over. He had made his way from the eastern deserts in the southern highlands. A furious blizzard seemed to ravage the tundra, never letting up, never breaking for the poor wizard who trekked through. Izzex made his way up to the highest point of one of massive mountain range in the south, he beheld the great expanse and felt his breast overwhelm, letting loose a bellow simply to hear his voice echo across the landscape. Izzex thought, what exactly could he create here in such an expansive place where only the wind and ice toiled? His final idea struck him and once again he raised his hands, calling to the ice and wind to help him fulfill his task. Ice circled the wizard, bending his fingers as he manipulated it into new shape and form, hardening the ice until it was a opaque and would never melt. The wizard had created his final instrument, a horn made from the very ice of the mountains. Mimicking the strong winds of the blizzard, to the horn he bestowed the thundering roar of the mountain storms. Stowing the horn away in a cave that wound its way deep within the mountain, Izzex had finally completed his quest. The wizard departed as quickly as he came and was never seen again. Now the Descendents have finally arrived on Vailor, centuries after the coming of the wizard Izzex. His relics of power lay hidden across the land, waiting for their time to be used. Will they be used to for great good or great evil, only the Creator knows. The Relics Maehr'sae Lurene Telonni Horen's Call The Devil of the Sands The Roaring Blizzard OOC Note: All instruments are cymbals of each race's respective traits and cultures. The magic 'decayed' and causes ill effects when used more then once per ingame year(prolonged exposure) because this keeps the balanced when not used for war or events. The instruments are meant to be used in events where the enemy is strong enough that the descendents would NEED magical or divine help to defeat it. Using them for a battle would surely turn the tide, but the way massive pvp fights are right now, it wouldn't be worth it :P. So its best just to save them for massive PvE evens. The legend itself could be stored within a book somewhere, I wrote it as a bedtime story from an old man to his grandson. So it could be something well known just never really taken into consideration.