Lexxum_Vordic
11-28-07, 12:15 PM
Prologue
1 Month Ago--
It was an antique sort of a room, a true relic of another age. Rich in a Althanas history, furnishings from all around the globe rested in the room. Tapestries hung on the each wall of the room from every corner of the world. The blues from Raiaera, earth tones from Fallien, various tapestries from Dheathain, Antioch, Alerar, and finally all the many wondrous lands of Corone. Each major region of Althanas was represented by a piece of tapestry hanging on the wall, as well as various paintings. Paintings that illuminated various stages of Althanas' history also hung in the wall. Indeed, this was the Master Bedroom of the old house.
It was Victorian in nature by classic Althanas standards. Powerful columns held the building up, and many triangular arches could be seen at various portions of the old house. The thing resembled a fortress more than a large house boasting several wings facing every corner of the compass. The central structure was located at the epicenter of the property. It resembled a perfectly geometrically designed rhomboid. Brick for brick, the property rested solidly at several hundred yards across. Across three or four miles of solid building. On either end.
Currently, the sun set overhead. Stars twinkled from above and lit the world of Althanas with their surreal light, illuminating the darkness ever so subtly with their wisdom. A winter's wind passed through the air causing the trees and leaves on the property to shiver ever so slightly. Leaves fell to the ground signaling the start of Winter. The winds traveled all the way from the arctic North-lands of the world, Salvar and Berevar. By the blessings of the Thaynes.
The old house was made of brick and mortar and rumored to be valued at billions of gold pieces. Once used to house refugees escaping the ancient Demon War, the property had history. It also was rumored to be haunted, but none could verify that rumor. Plants and shrubbery of every classification decorated the landscape. Trees imported from Scara Brae's Liviol Sanctum grew in a garden somewhere on the property. Every tree imaginable was on the lot.
In the Master Bedroom, a scene was laid before the eyes of history. A great man, Canabus Myers faced his death bed. He was old now, and had a life filled with many great stories. He laid in the single King's sized bed. A canopy and curtain covering the bed in every direction. On the West side of the bed, the curtain was open. There were several people in the room besides the sick man in the room. One was clearly a doctor. Two were an estranged son and daughter, one was a younger Brother. The other was Sir Myers' right hand man. A fellow calling himself Baxter Crane.
All of these people bore the features of classic Coronian decent. The old man's Brother was a fellow named Ellis Myers. The individuals in the room were named Ellis, Rogers (The estranged son), Maggy (The estranged daughter), and the other was Doctor Maxalin. Kenners Maxalin. From a hospital in Underwood. The township was nearby to Underwood and Canabus was the ranking noble in this area. With him, passed a legacy. His children were busy with tasks of their own thanks to the Corone Civil War. The land was left without a proper lord.
Baxter Crane was a man with shaggy hair. He stood at an elegant height, well over six heads. His posture was perfect. His back was straight and his shoulders were broad. He owned a rather lean physique clearly not the physique of a warrior. But one who would preferably avoid a fight. It was clear why he wasn't named the successor of Lord Myers' vast fortune. Crane currently sat next to the bed. Tears flowed from his eyes freely as he wiped away at them futilely. He currently held Lord Canabus' hands in his own, clasped with a sturdy grip. The old man had startling blue eyes even at his old age, they were filled with vigor. Crane's own brown eyes were a sight to behold as well. Clearly, there was a mixed heritage in the room of various prime Coronian families and heritage. A painting of a stately Elderly woman hung afore the crown of the large, intricate bed. Clearly this was the old noble's wife. Her lack of physical presence suggested that she'd already waited judgment in the Anti-Firmanent.
"Lord Myers, please rest, you must conserve your strength." Crane said in a low voice so as not to startle the old man further. Even in his death bed, the old man looked upon the future with courage.
The old man talked in a low, barely audible whisper. His strength was fading fast and he was soon for the Anti-Firmanent. "Now now my friend, Cane. Naye. My son." His words came out with a struggle as his body was quickly decaying and decomposing on itself. He was fighting the cancer. For which there was currently no known cure. The old man expected to die of the sword, not sick and useless in some bed. "The enemy lurks in the commonwealth. I bid you, contact Akhanatin Ra, he is an old friend. By now his House of Sora venture has grown prosperous. Seek out the House of Sora...please...it is my last command..." And the old man passed to the next world dying of old age. The scent of death filled the room and strangely, the room seemed to grow just a little bit darker.
************************************************** ***************
Lodge Bladestorm. Present Day. The sounds of combat filled Dyne Corona's ears as he stood and observed. The Monks of Ai'bron trained the warriors of the House of Sora quite carefully. Dyne Corona was training with them. He was currently using wooden melee batons against another student and dressed in a combat gi. A simple uniform really, but one that got the point across. Though the current leader of Lodge Bladestorm, Dyne Corona still saw himself as just another member and refused to deviate from his training and activities of fighting. He was a soldier first.
He'd joined the House of Sora it seemed, like many lifetimes ago. He'd been through many situations because of the House of Sora and like it or not, he was a part of the group's destiny. Dyne quickly found out that the members of the House of Sora were all good people. Good people tied together by a common set of causes. The master trainer of the Dojo in Lodge Bladestorm was a man named Cullex Simstein. An Akashiman warrior. His strangely slanted eyes and rounded facial features were a testament to his heritage.
The warriors all around Dyne trained in various sparring techniques. He was refining his lessons. Forging his skill with the wooden sword so that one day he might become a master swordsman. For now he was building the house necessary for that journey. After all, he'd recently been named Patriarch of Lodge Bladestorm, he had to work doubly hard to become a skilled warrior.
His brothers and sisters in the House of Sora were depending on his ability to function as both warrior and leader. As the fighting continued for hours on end, something happened. The doors to the Dojo were suddenly flung open and a quartet of well dressed strangers entered the training room. The leader of the group took the front of clearly military unit. "Master Simstein, I am here to look for Alberdyne Cormyr." The man proclaimed suddenly.
1 Month Ago--
It was an antique sort of a room, a true relic of another age. Rich in a Althanas history, furnishings from all around the globe rested in the room. Tapestries hung on the each wall of the room from every corner of the world. The blues from Raiaera, earth tones from Fallien, various tapestries from Dheathain, Antioch, Alerar, and finally all the many wondrous lands of Corone. Each major region of Althanas was represented by a piece of tapestry hanging on the wall, as well as various paintings. Paintings that illuminated various stages of Althanas' history also hung in the wall. Indeed, this was the Master Bedroom of the old house.
It was Victorian in nature by classic Althanas standards. Powerful columns held the building up, and many triangular arches could be seen at various portions of the old house. The thing resembled a fortress more than a large house boasting several wings facing every corner of the compass. The central structure was located at the epicenter of the property. It resembled a perfectly geometrically designed rhomboid. Brick for brick, the property rested solidly at several hundred yards across. Across three or four miles of solid building. On either end.
Currently, the sun set overhead. Stars twinkled from above and lit the world of Althanas with their surreal light, illuminating the darkness ever so subtly with their wisdom. A winter's wind passed through the air causing the trees and leaves on the property to shiver ever so slightly. Leaves fell to the ground signaling the start of Winter. The winds traveled all the way from the arctic North-lands of the world, Salvar and Berevar. By the blessings of the Thaynes.
The old house was made of brick and mortar and rumored to be valued at billions of gold pieces. Once used to house refugees escaping the ancient Demon War, the property had history. It also was rumored to be haunted, but none could verify that rumor. Plants and shrubbery of every classification decorated the landscape. Trees imported from Scara Brae's Liviol Sanctum grew in a garden somewhere on the property. Every tree imaginable was on the lot.
In the Master Bedroom, a scene was laid before the eyes of history. A great man, Canabus Myers faced his death bed. He was old now, and had a life filled with many great stories. He laid in the single King's sized bed. A canopy and curtain covering the bed in every direction. On the West side of the bed, the curtain was open. There were several people in the room besides the sick man in the room. One was clearly a doctor. Two were an estranged son and daughter, one was a younger Brother. The other was Sir Myers' right hand man. A fellow calling himself Baxter Crane.
All of these people bore the features of classic Coronian decent. The old man's Brother was a fellow named Ellis Myers. The individuals in the room were named Ellis, Rogers (The estranged son), Maggy (The estranged daughter), and the other was Doctor Maxalin. Kenners Maxalin. From a hospital in Underwood. The township was nearby to Underwood and Canabus was the ranking noble in this area. With him, passed a legacy. His children were busy with tasks of their own thanks to the Corone Civil War. The land was left without a proper lord.
Baxter Crane was a man with shaggy hair. He stood at an elegant height, well over six heads. His posture was perfect. His back was straight and his shoulders were broad. He owned a rather lean physique clearly not the physique of a warrior. But one who would preferably avoid a fight. It was clear why he wasn't named the successor of Lord Myers' vast fortune. Crane currently sat next to the bed. Tears flowed from his eyes freely as he wiped away at them futilely. He currently held Lord Canabus' hands in his own, clasped with a sturdy grip. The old man had startling blue eyes even at his old age, they were filled with vigor. Crane's own brown eyes were a sight to behold as well. Clearly, there was a mixed heritage in the room of various prime Coronian families and heritage. A painting of a stately Elderly woman hung afore the crown of the large, intricate bed. Clearly this was the old noble's wife. Her lack of physical presence suggested that she'd already waited judgment in the Anti-Firmanent.
"Lord Myers, please rest, you must conserve your strength." Crane said in a low voice so as not to startle the old man further. Even in his death bed, the old man looked upon the future with courage.
The old man talked in a low, barely audible whisper. His strength was fading fast and he was soon for the Anti-Firmanent. "Now now my friend, Cane. Naye. My son." His words came out with a struggle as his body was quickly decaying and decomposing on itself. He was fighting the cancer. For which there was currently no known cure. The old man expected to die of the sword, not sick and useless in some bed. "The enemy lurks in the commonwealth. I bid you, contact Akhanatin Ra, he is an old friend. By now his House of Sora venture has grown prosperous. Seek out the House of Sora...please...it is my last command..." And the old man passed to the next world dying of old age. The scent of death filled the room and strangely, the room seemed to grow just a little bit darker.
************************************************** ***************
Lodge Bladestorm. Present Day. The sounds of combat filled Dyne Corona's ears as he stood and observed. The Monks of Ai'bron trained the warriors of the House of Sora quite carefully. Dyne Corona was training with them. He was currently using wooden melee batons against another student and dressed in a combat gi. A simple uniform really, but one that got the point across. Though the current leader of Lodge Bladestorm, Dyne Corona still saw himself as just another member and refused to deviate from his training and activities of fighting. He was a soldier first.
He'd joined the House of Sora it seemed, like many lifetimes ago. He'd been through many situations because of the House of Sora and like it or not, he was a part of the group's destiny. Dyne quickly found out that the members of the House of Sora were all good people. Good people tied together by a common set of causes. The master trainer of the Dojo in Lodge Bladestorm was a man named Cullex Simstein. An Akashiman warrior. His strangely slanted eyes and rounded facial features were a testament to his heritage.
The warriors all around Dyne trained in various sparring techniques. He was refining his lessons. Forging his skill with the wooden sword so that one day he might become a master swordsman. For now he was building the house necessary for that journey. After all, he'd recently been named Patriarch of Lodge Bladestorm, he had to work doubly hard to become a skilled warrior.
His brothers and sisters in the House of Sora were depending on his ability to function as both warrior and leader. As the fighting continued for hours on end, something happened. The doors to the Dojo were suddenly flung open and a quartet of well dressed strangers entered the training room. The leader of the group took the front of clearly military unit. "Master Simstein, I am here to look for Alberdyne Cormyr." The man proclaimed suddenly.