Writings for the New Ones

Have you got a game, book or movie you'd like to make a story out of? Want to expand on a story or plot that stopped? Have an original idea for a story that you want to post somewhere? Here's where to do it. Basically an RPG where one player controls ALL characters in the story.

Writings for the New Ones

Postby C S » Fri Jul 10, 2015 3:06 pm

The scholarly body of Brodudika was asked to undertake a most unusual request from the city-state's benefactor only a few weeks after the nation was founded.

In his time away he discovered a great amount of young elementals that, surprisingly, displayed sapience. Before this discovery, elementals of this nature were exceedingly rare on Aster. Born in the aftermath of the seal that put an end to the anxieties of a world-wide disaster, this first group offers a unique opportunity for mages to peer into the intricacies of life taking the form of aspects of our world. They have yet to grow as old and elusive as the fabled beings that exist to this day, and they have yet to develop the powers that would make them so dangerous to contend with.

However, by mandate of the benefactor, study of these beings comes second to their rights as mentally and emotionally aware creatures. It is a distinction that many in the magical field have yet to truly come to terms with; these bodies made from the non-living, coursing with mana, are indeed living creatures just like any other animal and, after recent events, sapient being.

As Brodudika was founded on principles of the advancement of knowledge and defense of the defenseless, the elementals were housed in secrecy from most, except for the benefactor's scholars. They were not to study the city's newest inhabitants, though the temptation surely must have been palpable for them. The purpose of the scholars underneath the benefactor's request was that of teachers. Their work to establish a program to integrate the elementals into the world of man and elf would go on to be known as The Brodudika Volumes.

These writings for the new ones aimed to encapsulate the knowledge of the benefactor, knowledge that the scholars who recorded his words inside that auditorium would have balked at had the speaker not been one who treaded with gods and their ancient followers. He spoke of the origins of the world we live on as learned from one of the fabled ones all the way to his account of what transpired in Tyrbenetus that led to the demonic forces being swept from the land.

After these first volumes were created, the benefactor set into motion an effort to record Aster's history from that point forward, to teach the future the things that should not be forgotten. One such tale is the following,

"False Form, Truest Spirit"

I have set foot in many great studies and libraries in what I admit is a short time by the standards of most. It is a byproduct of spending time with a dragon that finds peace within the covers of old tomes that speak of things that came before him. At the time, my readings of Aster's folklore was an accidental thing. Unlike Septimus, my reading was not to put my head into the river of time in the hopes of seeing the things upstream. I was merely partaking in the habits of my friend until he felt it time to peruse another archive. Perhaps one day he will read my words with the same rapt attention.

It is for him as well as the young ones that I share what I know of one of Aster's greatest heroes.

Known as "The Changeling" by the earliest of Aster's sapients, Tzeentch was and still is one of the oldest beings I have ever encountered. Her story spans that of innumerable years, era after era, before the first fall of Eredar up until his second. I have reason to believe she is older than the first accounts created by the primeval races upon the walls of caves. She belonged to the eldest class of elemental which did not become one with the world they were born on, remaining in her raw magical form for what may have been eons since her kin first appeared on Leyuna.

I refer to her as a female only for the fact that the last form I saw her in before the battle against Eredar and his army was that of an old human lady. My time with Tzeentch lasted as long as those hours on the eve of war. I did not consider it then but her deceptive form told nothing about who she truly was, yet revealed to all her truest character. She could have been anything; gender and form was meaningless to her. Still, a small old woman was her chosen appearance. To have great power will command fear. To have the discipline and humility to sheath that power will command respect. I have nothing but respect for that elemental.

It was because of her, I was not destroyed by the influence of the ley lines that were used to bind the fallen deity. It was because of her, there was an army to face Eredar at all. On her lonesome, Tzeentch traveled Aster recruiting all who were willing to lend a blade to battle all because she witnessed the first fall, when Eredar was imprisoned for his great crimes against the living. Tzeentch would not see that fate visit Aster a second time, in an age where the seven were so distant from this world. She even did battle with a demon to save a select few from all manner of misdeeds the fiend intended to unleash upon them.

She would prove herself to be far more powerful than I gave her credit for on that battlefield. What magnitude of might she faced that demon with must have paled in comparison to the power I witnessed through Eredar's black smoke. A serpent of light; enormous and exuding an aura that could not be overtaken by the Master of Shadow's efforts. At the time I wielded the Lance of the Justicar, a holy weapon that carried the Dawnmother's light and guided the soldiers who fought at my side. Just as I led the way for them, Tzeentch led the way for so many others. She was the standard that I had to live up to. She was as much of an example for me as Inarius was on Tyrbenetus.

She taught me by that battle's end that there was no price too great to pay if it meant safeguarding the future. Tzeentch, of such age and power, was gone when Eredar's night was done and the sun shined over that torn and wasted arena. I did not witness what ended her life. Few accounts exist as to what happened in those moments before Lady Moria descended from heaven and restrained her brother, and those few are steeped in such metaphor and vagueness by the awed mortals that I find them useless in finding a definite answer.

I have but a few words of her's to carry with me, the memory of that old lady, and the serpent that held the whole of her power for all to bear witness to. Together, along with what I have read and the actions I have seen, I conclude that Tzeentch is one of the purest souls to have ever graced Leyuna, and one of its greatest heroes.

We go boldly into the future not just in the memory of the divine, but to honor the brave fallen who gifted us the coming days with their lives. Brodudika is my present to their legacy. When the day comes that a threat of such forbidding enormity arises again, the resistance will begin within these walls.

We will hang the banner of "The Changeling" with all the others, not as a metaphor for the variability of the world around us, but as a symbol of courage. Let us never forget all the heroes who perished fighting for their great causes. Let them all be honored underneath one emblem, let the many faces of Tzeentch put a face to them all.
"Saturn was NOT a Single Lady." - Unknown
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Bae Fish
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