Tvayumat
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Feb 2, 2003
- Posts
- 163
The land of Alhannya, a realm ruled by Humans and Elves. Magic is rarely understood and even more rarely used, accepted in larger cities but feared in smaller towns. Ruled for generations by the Gerethos royal family. Two kinds of magic users exist in Alhannya; Wizards, whose power comes from study and knowledge of the intricacies of magic, and drawing carefully from the different types of energy sources, and the far more rare Sorcerers, whose power comes from a raw connection to magic itself, able to direct raw magical energy with mere thought.
Our story begins with an elven woman, pregnant with half-elven twins. The father, unimportant, her history, equally so. The woman was travelling through the wilderness on her way to an also unimportant location when her group was set upon by bandits. A battle ensued, most were killed, the woman was mortally wounded but successfully fled to a nearby village, where she died. The children were born several minutes post-mortem.
A small village, Hillsfoot was ruled almost exclusively by fear and superstition, and so the children were reviled from the moment of their conception. A boy and a girl. Let us speak of the girl first.
The girl was the more independent of the twins, gifted with mild magical ability, she realized early on just how stifled she was by the ignorant villagers who kept her nearly enslaved. She left the village at a young age to begin her life's journey, her story shall be told more fully later...
The boy was a powerful sorcerer, more gifted than any born in a thousand years, but he was also quite vulnerable. He ate up everything the villagers fed him, he believed he was evil by nature, he must live a life of suffering and servitude to make up for his birth, it was then that he met Elehanndra, an elven slave girl.
He had never met anyone so beautiful, anyone so wonderful in his life, he loved her intensely from the moment their eyes met. She showed him true beauty, and he began to see more and more that the world truly was a wonderful place, as long as she was in it, but this is not her story.
She was killed, beaten to death by her master for daring to love. The boy was 18 at this point, and witnessed the entire affair. It is said that one must fear a Wizard most when he is calm, as an angry Wizard cannot fight, it is also said that an angry Sorcerer is more dangerous than a thousand calm Wizards.
The blast unleashed that day was visible for miles in every direction, a blast of pure, unbridled insanity. His mind snapped, the world became nothing to him, good became evil, light became dark, air turned to smoke. He hated himself, but he hated everyone else more, for what they had done, the boy became a monolith of hatred.
And so a column of pure energy, uncontrolled, erased Hillsfoot. A plain stood where once there was a small village, perfectly flat and steaming. In the center of the carnage hunkered a single figure, deformed by his own magic, his flesh twisted and burned, his eyes boiled in their sockets, he was a monstrosity, and so he fled.
He fled into the mountains, he fled to the caves. There he lived in freakish misery, stewing, growing more powerful and more twisted with each day. He fed on the raw flesh of animals and people he caught, seeing now though a conscious effort of magic.
It was there that his sister located him, and, through guile rather than strength, bested him. Then his training began, she taught him how to wield his gift, how to use it with surgical precision rather than brute force. Over several years he mastered the art of using his immense power in the most delicate of ways, and his hatred drove him on.
He became a master of the art of mind-manipulation, he could create illusions so real people would even FEEL them, he became intensely powerful. But never the independent one, he attached himself to his sister, always listening and accepting what was told to him.
The dark days began then, as the two began a campaign against the royal family, twisting men into slaves for their army of darkness, fueled by their hatred and greed.
Alhannya is now ruled by the royal House Darksteel, the self-appointed family name of the two.
Name: Erok Darksteel
Race: Half-elf
Sex: Male
H: 6'3"
W: 235 lbs
Hair: none
Description: Deformed and twisted, he covers his entire body in black, with knee-high riding boots and flared cuff gloves, not an inch of flesh shows. He wears a dark cloak and hood, and a mask of steel. The mask itself is magical, is has no decoration of any kind, it is merely a blank oval of black metal, with no eye slits, but it grants him vision, not just of physical things, but of the minds of those around him. He is large and muscular, and very capable with the sword that hangs at his hip. His power over other's minds is nearly absolute, with the ability to control weaker minds directly, and influence stronger minds with illusion. Not to downplay his direct power, he still wields immense raw magical strength.
((Firegirl976 will post info for the sister next and we will begin, if you wish to join, PM me with your character description etc. and I will approve it. This thread can go anywhere, so use your imagination.))
Our story begins with an elven woman, pregnant with half-elven twins. The father, unimportant, her history, equally so. The woman was travelling through the wilderness on her way to an also unimportant location when her group was set upon by bandits. A battle ensued, most were killed, the woman was mortally wounded but successfully fled to a nearby village, where she died. The children were born several minutes post-mortem.
A small village, Hillsfoot was ruled almost exclusively by fear and superstition, and so the children were reviled from the moment of their conception. A boy and a girl. Let us speak of the girl first.
The girl was the more independent of the twins, gifted with mild magical ability, she realized early on just how stifled she was by the ignorant villagers who kept her nearly enslaved. She left the village at a young age to begin her life's journey, her story shall be told more fully later...
The boy was a powerful sorcerer, more gifted than any born in a thousand years, but he was also quite vulnerable. He ate up everything the villagers fed him, he believed he was evil by nature, he must live a life of suffering and servitude to make up for his birth, it was then that he met Elehanndra, an elven slave girl.
He had never met anyone so beautiful, anyone so wonderful in his life, he loved her intensely from the moment their eyes met. She showed him true beauty, and he began to see more and more that the world truly was a wonderful place, as long as she was in it, but this is not her story.
She was killed, beaten to death by her master for daring to love. The boy was 18 at this point, and witnessed the entire affair. It is said that one must fear a Wizard most when he is calm, as an angry Wizard cannot fight, it is also said that an angry Sorcerer is more dangerous than a thousand calm Wizards.
The blast unleashed that day was visible for miles in every direction, a blast of pure, unbridled insanity. His mind snapped, the world became nothing to him, good became evil, light became dark, air turned to smoke. He hated himself, but he hated everyone else more, for what they had done, the boy became a monolith of hatred.
And so a column of pure energy, uncontrolled, erased Hillsfoot. A plain stood where once there was a small village, perfectly flat and steaming. In the center of the carnage hunkered a single figure, deformed by his own magic, his flesh twisted and burned, his eyes boiled in their sockets, he was a monstrosity, and so he fled.
He fled into the mountains, he fled to the caves. There he lived in freakish misery, stewing, growing more powerful and more twisted with each day. He fed on the raw flesh of animals and people he caught, seeing now though a conscious effort of magic.
It was there that his sister located him, and, through guile rather than strength, bested him. Then his training began, she taught him how to wield his gift, how to use it with surgical precision rather than brute force. Over several years he mastered the art of using his immense power in the most delicate of ways, and his hatred drove him on.
He became a master of the art of mind-manipulation, he could create illusions so real people would even FEEL them, he became intensely powerful. But never the independent one, he attached himself to his sister, always listening and accepting what was told to him.
The dark days began then, as the two began a campaign against the royal family, twisting men into slaves for their army of darkness, fueled by their hatred and greed.
Alhannya is now ruled by the royal House Darksteel, the self-appointed family name of the two.
Name: Erok Darksteel
Race: Half-elf
Sex: Male
H: 6'3"
W: 235 lbs
Hair: none
Description: Deformed and twisted, he covers his entire body in black, with knee-high riding boots and flared cuff gloves, not an inch of flesh shows. He wears a dark cloak and hood, and a mask of steel. The mask itself is magical, is has no decoration of any kind, it is merely a blank oval of black metal, with no eye slits, but it grants him vision, not just of physical things, but of the minds of those around him. He is large and muscular, and very capable with the sword that hangs at his hip. His power over other's minds is nearly absolute, with the ability to control weaker minds directly, and influence stronger minds with illusion. Not to downplay his direct power, he still wields immense raw magical strength.
((Firegirl976 will post info for the sister next and we will begin, if you wish to join, PM me with your character description etc. and I will approve it. This thread can go anywhere, so use your imagination.))
i am from the uk and only know of stone so she is 8 stone)
