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  1. #1
    Althanian

    EXP: 1,484, Level: 1
    Level completed: 75%, EXP required for next Level: 516
    Level completed: 75%,
    EXP required for next Level: 516


    Preston's Avatar

    GP
    1,496

    Name
    Preston Fletcher
    Age
    27
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    Adventurer's Crown 2021 - Tournament Prompt

    Somewhere in the Southeast Alerar Wastelands

    A trio of representatives for the major Guilds of Alerar walked down a long, thin hallway, the flickering orange glow of their torches lighting their way. The walls of the ruins they had come to investigate were caked over with ancient dust that had been unperturbed for centuries. It was only by chance that the ruins themselves had been discovered days prior. In the time since, a great curiosity had been found at the heart of the buried construct. As they rounded a corner the torchlight was rendered ineffective as the glow of a wide beam of magical light filled the room from within what looked like a very shallow well. Perfectly placed perpendicular to the magic energy was what looked like a white sword with a golden glint along its surface, seemingly stabbed half-way through the energy but without the other half showing on the other side. Additionally, around the sword, was carefully arranged blocks of the same unknown metal with unintelligible runes.

    “What a curious find. I can feel the old magic radiating…” the statement slipped through the air from a pair of thin, gray lips as if an observation about a hundred year old elven vintage. The dark elven speaker, Cazri, savored the waft, twirling her hand and sniffing deeply. The magic played across the back of her palette, dancing like bursts of unexpected ecstasy. Despite being an Aleraran and not known for magical potency, the woman was almost tasting the thaumaturgic laden air. The dark elf held out a hand towards the emanating light, feeling the warmth and closed her eyes. “You can feel the touch of the old world on this one. It’s fascinating.”

    A disapproving huff came from a stout dwarf nearby. He sidled up to the dark elf woman and clenched his sausage-like fingers around his heavy warhammer. Over the lip of the recently discovered and meticulously exhumed ruins he peered, staring at what looked like a bright orb of light pierced by a sword. Slowly he shifted the dragonscale plate over his dehlar scale armor. It was thoroughly unimpressive to Sabal, the Royal Engineer for King Edar’axa. Tendrils of light extended like veins, rhythmically expanding and contracting as if there was a pulse coming from the epicenter. “I don’t know,” he said with a deep, Salvic accent, “this seems like a problem to me. Cazri, why are you looking like you’re in a trance?”

    The female dark elf opened her silver eyes and looked over to her dwarven engineer companion. She quickly straightened her purple robe and adjusted the multiple belts at her waist, which held her components and alchemical potions. “You know full well we Aleraran’s don’t dabble in magic. This is the most pure magic I’ve ever been near though in all my years as an alchemist for the nation, even as a Master Alchemist. You would do well to pay it some reverence Sabal.”

    The dwarf huffed again more dramatically and tapped the heavy head of his delyn warhammer towards the third expert present; he puffed heavily on a newly lit cigar on the edge of mouth. Jivvin was an odd looking dark elf, possibly with the most reclusive genes possible at birth. He was almost five foot tall, but looked as frail as possible, his skin was pale and his eyes were a pale yellow. On his back he wore a vapor conversion kit, which allowed him to breath through his gas mask the air he was accustomed to at the factories as a child. Both of his arms were also amputated and replaced by magitech constructs made of delyn. He was still tinkering with a shard of red crystal when he was called on.

    “I don’t know,” Jivvin said with a subtle, raspy tone through the thick leather mask. His voice was rough and sounded distant, as if he was barely paying attention to the situation. “This looks like old world magic, and maybe… a demon gate?”

    There was an audible gasp from Cazri and Sabal. Both of them awkwardly looked away from Jivvin and the portal. Alerar was not typically a place where magic was commonplace. It was, at best, a tool exploited to create new technological advances. While the Raiarean elves worked with bardic music, the Aleraran elves worked their own song through the beat of a hammer on heated ore. However, after taking shaving samples of the white metal runes around the sword, it was determined that the material of the weapon as well as the runes lined around it were something altogether new.

    A demon gate had been discovered within the realm of Alerar, and its existence would come as a shock to the world. All three of the Guild representatives slowly began to conjure up their own ideas as to how this new discovery could be used. Jivvin tapped his Delyn half-plate and adjusted the leather at the sides, wondering if he could transform this new white-gold metal into something to power new magitech weapons, armor, or airships. Cazri thought about how to harness the magical power of the gate itself, and investigating the runes to discover long forgotten magic. Sabal, the ever pragmatic dwarf, worried about the demons in Haidia using the portal to create a second Demon War - simply longing for the entire fiasco to disappear.
    ((prompt))
    It has been three weeks since the landscape was discovered and reported. Of the three main guilds in Alerar there had been only minimal presence with the archaeological team that went into the wasteland area initially. Now the area is crawling with Aleraran military, Guild members, and citizens who are supporting them. As soon as they had discovered the ruins, demon related activity increased in the Tular Plains - they feel the power of the demon gate and are marching to see it. Additionally, as a response, the dwarves and elves of Alerar are on the move to secure the site. This is also a very large magical power source, so it can be sensed by those with affinity towards such artifacts or magic as a whole.

    It was determined that the sword is related to the First King of Alerar (Elrohir Fararil) who had won back the lands ending the Demon War in Alerar. Some of the brightest minds had been dispatched. Jivvin - Chief Artificer, Cazri - Master Alchemist, and Sabal as the Royal Engineer were most available to assist and high enough ranking within their respective guilds.

  2. #2
    Althanian

    EXP: 1,484, Level: 1
    Level completed: 75%, EXP required for next Level: 516
    Level completed: 75%,
    EXP required for next Level: 516


    Preston's Avatar

    GP
    1,496

    Name
    Preston Fletcher
    Age
    27
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Round 2 Prompt

    The country of Alerar has been turned upside down by the emergence of the Demon Gate. While it was first thought as a mere inconvenience to be studied, a thing of cultural significance to the demons of the Tular Plains, now it has become a nightmare. Demons of Haiadia are spilling forth into Alerar, swarming the open countryside and the Khufein plains as they advance towards the isolated cities of the region. Mere shock-troops and scouting parties have advanced so far from the ruins, but surely more is to come as the portal remains.

    In response, the Southern Border of Alerar has been encroached upon, and being overrun, by the Tular Plains demon population. These far more humanoid demons, having lived on the surface of Althanas for decades, can feel the calling of their Infernal brethren. They take up whatever arms they can find and march towards the plains, unorganized and fanatic commoners, but en mass number upwards of tens of thousands.

    From the North, the dwarven armies emerged as well. They are not only acting in defense of their mountain fortresses, but actively marching into the open flatlands of Alerar. Slowly they advance towards the gate in an organized force.

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