Lasha

[Solstæce]

*********************************************

The first memory is always the most vivid: a piercing brightness first, then such an incredible experience of sound and colour…completely indescribable. Familiarity follows: voices become distinguishable, touch becomes comforting. Eyes don't work properly yet, so there's nothing to a face, but silhouettes begin to bear meaning, some more welcome than others. Awareness of breathing follows: the feeble rise and fall of the chest, the sensation of air trickling meekly over lips. Consciousness asserts itself early, far earlier than the motor skills necessary to convey it, and existence occurs in a short-lived state of biological limbo before you can gather enough sense for an exploratory jerk, which invariably returns a strong and infinitely welcome feeling of still being in your own body.

With time, the world will resolve itself properly; but not once, for one moment of your new life, will you be without the feeling that something terrible has happened, and you were very much a part of it.

This is how I came into the world."

*********************************************


UN as we witness thy grace
Bear us our meager hearts
Give unto us our fruits of work
And tolerate our hate and injustice
For they are the wandering paths
To the gates of Truth.

PRÆR OF UN

“November 18
Sunset
Northern coast, Salvar

Reached the coast and have discovered a whaling tribe. Scouted area, no sign of any landmarks so far, however did find ritualistically slaughtered saeal corpses. Friendly contact seeming unlikely.”



Speak free, for I am all-hearing:
But may your words
Remain honourable and just.
Tread fearless, for I am all-seeing:
And shall guide your soul
To we’er it wander.
Gaze with love, for I am beautiful:
And you in turn
Shall return to me.
Listen with care, for I am wise:
I am come from GÆA herself
With the Gift of Truth.

BOOK OF ÆVE

“November 22
Noon
Salvar

Initial contact not well received: a handful of Tradespeakers in the tribe were my best hope, however not receptive. Had to move my camp farther away; I am beginning to think they believe me to be the daemon said to foretell winter storms, and I cannot blame them. The wind is increasing noticeably. Going to try and reinforce my tent.”


ÆVE is cometh.

“November 25
Morning
Salvar

Total white-out. Can’t leave shelter. Hoping storm does not last as long as the legends say.”


Bright limbo shall fade
The world shall resolve itself

“November 28
Day
Salvar

Though I saw the sun today. Probably not.”


Cold shall yield to warmth
Weariness shall yield to strength
And the way ahead shall be clear

"December 1
Midnight
Salvar

Great news! 'December is Salvar's coldest month' according to calendar."


For ÆVE is cometh
And unto ÆVE we surrender

“December 15
Noon
Salvar

Food gone.”


All is faith, faith is truth
ÆVE is cometh.

PRAYER OF ÆVE

“I don’t fucking care
Night?
Tent

Wind is blowing tent away. Pissed I am going to die in this miserable country. Æve are you listening???"



TWENTY and ONE steps is the plinth of UN
TWENTY and ONE years was the life of ÆVE
TWENTY and ONE millennia shall be the dominion of GÆA
The path to Hævæn shall not be taken
In ignorance of the Trær's glory.
In the beginning they were One
And now as One they are Three
GÆA, Queen of Queens
Mother of Truth, which is all
UN, Gatekeeper and Forgiver
Born of Truth, which is all
ÆVE, Wandering Saviour
Born of GÆA, sister to Truth
Who shall light the Solstæce fires
And lead us into glory.

THE TRÆR'S SERMON



"Something is outside"




And so ends our prologue, thus beginning the contemporary history of Lhaxæan Ædinsolstæce. It is night, and Coronè is quiet. Of course, Lasha, as he will come to be known, cannot possibly know this. He cannot know that he had been dropped, unconscious, on a Coronèan doorstep minutes before. That he spent the past five-and-a-half weeks, comatose, aboard a freighter chartered from the coast of Salvar. Nor could he possibly know how he came to be found by an ore caravan, buried in the narrow mountain pass, unrecognizable. Ignorant of the miracle that enabled his survival, and of the effects these lost weeks have had on the destiny of an entire civilization, Lasha sleeps. His darkness is soon to end, however, and he will awaken to the terrified screams of an eight-year-old child as the sun, the beautiful, magnificent sun pours over his gaunt and withered body.

No. He does not know. But perhaps someday.

[Solstæce]

((Right, like to avoid mixing RP and OOC posts, so I split’em up, see? Basically I got this idea for Lasha, and during the course of trying to write a history, my head was already filling with possible backstory, way too juicy to waste on Registration. So, what I present to you is the above scenario, with a story and a character that will develop over time (so I can earn fat loots instead of just “Approved”). The first passage I have envisioned as the introduction to a memoir, one that Lasha sits down to write following the conclusion of his exploits. I have no idea if this has been done here before, but I feel as though a third-person narrative coupled with occasional first-person, future-scient memories could be a pretty sweet way to tell a story. We’ll see how that goes, onto the facts.))


LHAXÆAN ÆDINSOLSTÆCE

Name: Lhaxæan Ædinsolstæce (“lac-shen eh-din-sol-stehs”).
Age: Roughly 30
Race: Appears Human
Hair Color: Black, worn shaggy
Eye Color: Green
Height: 6’
Weight: 190 (160 at the time of his deposition in Coronè)
Personality: Mild with a hidden intensity. Prone to be introspective.

Occupation: Historian.

Misc.: Lasha’s family has roots to an ancient, goddess-worshipping civilization, and consequently has spent most of his adolescence and adulthood immersed in studying the Træra, as they have come to be known in the common tongue. He is likely the only extant Træran scholar, and with a vested personal interest in his own heritage, has already added volumes of fact, myth, and conjecture to history’s archive. Lasha, however, is anything but a College-tied scholar: Indiana Jones he is not, but he is an accomplished hunter and navigator with well-developed survival skills. An exceptionally quick mind enables Lasha to swiftly adapt in order to give himself an advantage before using his strong build, natural athleticism, and acquired skills to assure his continued existence. Perhaps handsome at one point, this latest near-death experience has certainly taken its toll on his appearance. For now.


Weapons & Equipment:

An ancient spearhead, far and away the prize of Lasha’a artefacts. Forged of a unique alloy and weathered under extreme conditions (and countless ribcages), the spearhead speaks volumes of the metal-working knowledge of the Træran civilization. Many myths associated with Træran metal-working have left Lasha very curious as to what other properties might be imbued within the weapon, however as of the present he has yet to discover any, and the spearhead remains roughly the same strength as steel. Coupled with a fire-hardened stave made of Raiaeran Oak, the spear is Lasha’a primary weapon. Above Average.

Five steel throwing knives, roughly 7” and well-balanced. Nothing special. Average.

Gauntlets, studded. Right-hand flexible leather with some steel plating; designed to maximize throwing potential. Left hand hardened leather with full steel reinforcement, studded; for blocking and crushing.


Clothes:

- Black cotton shirt, long-sleeve, worn against the skin.
- Hard, yet flexible leather vest protects Lasha’s vitals from glancing blows, worn above the shirt.
- Long underwear, wool, leather plating over major muscles.
- Cotton trousers, midnight blue, worn baggy and tied up at the waist
- Cloak, midnight blue, hooded, worn around the shoulders, capable of veiling Lasha on a moonless night. Filled with many pockets for many hidden things.
- Boots, leather, well-hardened and well-worn with many years of life yet.
- Headband, black, silk, used to keep Lasha’s hair from falling in his eyes.


Conclusion:

Lasha is ordinary, or so he has always believed. Nothing in his abilities would suggest otherwise; he is a fit, skilled, motivated homo sapiens in his prime with plenty of experience taking care of himself. However, as he will soon discover, there is something very curious about his presence that night, what we call the Winter Solstice, where his memory ends. Solstice, a word with a very curious history mysteriously intertwined with the legacy of a forgotten people, and ultimately a young man's destiny. No: Lasha is ordinary.

But we will see.

[Witchblade]

This is RoG, not any of the role-playing zones on althanas. Therefore, you only get approved... not any 'fat loots' as you call it. If you want experience/gp for what you wrote above, it has to be done in a role-playing forum and then submitted for judging. Also, it needs to be at least ten posts long or 10,000 words in order to receive a judgement.

Spearhead - level zero characters are only allowed to start with metals of steel strength and lower. Therefore if you want some fancy metal for the artefact, that's fine, but over the years it has downgraded to the strengh of steel. he shaft may be made of Oak.

Make those changes and I'll look at it again.

[Solstæce]

...I know, I'm not new here. All I meant was that I'm planning on using all this backstory as Quest-fodder as opposed to simply leaving it in the RoG to rot. Also, I'm happy to keep the oaken staff, but I was hoping for something a little bit stronger than steel for the spearhead, seeing as how I have no skills, magic, or legitimate armour. Anyways, I've changed it to an alloy as strong as steel but with some unique properties (which Lasha has not discovered yet).

[Witchblade]

Well, if you're not new here then you should know steel or metals equaling the strength of steel is as high as a level zero character can go.

Approverized!