Youngling's Training Camp

Ralakor made his way towards the center of the field. News of his arrival traveled faster then his party could walk and by the time he arrived at the main center a massive crowd had gathered even though it was well into the night. Seeing the problem already, Ralakor raised his hand upwards, and before him rose the very ground, creating a layer of stairs to a large platform that had been created just in font of the large central fireplace, a few warriors had to scramble out of the way or be carried up with the ground as well. Reaching the top of the newly created platform, Ralakor looked out towards his audience. There where over a hundred faces before him, mostly of young men and women, but a few older faces where mixed in as well. 

All of a sudden this crowd of the living changed. Instead of curious faces lay instead hundreds of dead. Their organs and limbs dismembered and ripped to pieces. No ground could be seen, only blood and gore. The very sky black with scarab constructs. Looking down he saw that instead of standing on the raised platform of earth, he was standing on a pile of corpses dozens deep. All killed by his blade. His hand. As suddenly it had appeared, the memories faded, for they were memories. He remembered that day in particular, the beast drank deeply that day. 

Again he could see the quizzing crowd, the flashback had only come on for a second, so they did not know. Raising his hand out once more pointing it to the sky, green wisps extending from it. Creating a vision in the sky of the days of old.

"We are the people of Belrow." Began Ralakor, his voice projected into the minds of the crowd. A map of their lands appearing above.
"We are not from your time. The stars tell us that over twenty five thousand years have passed since last we walked on the earth. We where once like you,"
The vision in the sky changed, turning into a landscape of a fertile land, with a great river running down the middle, surrounded by black stone buildings, people living and working around the river, laughing, playing.
"Yet we were greedy, and jealous of our neighboring lands. So we made war on them, the first major war the world had ever seen."
The picture changed once more, now showing a map of the earth, the continents slightly different. The borders of Belrow expanding across the lands.
"Although we won at first, soon, we were outnumbered as the enemy banded together to destroy us."
The borders began to shrink once more, growing smaller then what they originally were. 
"When finally, all we had left where a core amount of cities. Which where besieged day and night by our enemies. They did not want peace, they wanted retribution for what we had done. Hundreds of thousands of my people died in those cities, from starvation to artillery." 
Now it showed a network of crypts and burial chambers. 
"So many died that the places we buried our dead, soon were larger then the lands of the living. It was during this time that we dug so deep we awoke a creature made of energy that contained unimaginable power and knowledge, the very laws of the earth bent around it. We revered it as a god, it was our savior."
The crypts dissipated and was replaced by a vast creature, cloaked in black shadows no features could be made out.
"We gave it a body, made of the same material as our buildings. In return it had promised us immortality, and a way to defeat our enemies once and for all. In our arrogance, we took the gift. We could no longer die, blades could not kill us, and our bodies slowly reshaped, limbs reattaching themselves. But it was a trap."
The image changed once more, now of the legions of undead, marching towards a waiting army, and began to slaughter them all, uncaring and unflinching. 
"We no longer had control of our bodies, they were all being controlled by the the beast that we thought was our god. We where forced to slaughter whole families, women and children, none could escape. "
More scenes of death began to appear, flashing quickly past. Burning cities, bodies being ripped in two. It settled finally on a massive battlefield, thousands and thousands of dead, many sticking out of the ground, impaled on spikes.
"We had no control, we where forced to watch as we killed all living life in the world. It was then, when the creature was sated, full on the souls of the dead we had reaped for its hunger that his control over us weakened. Only slightly, but enough for the strongest of us to break free. We surprised the beast, its mind and body slow after so much death." 
The field of corpses changed to seven beings surrounding a vast monstrous creature, half buried in corpses. Their arms outstretched they blasted the creature with blinding light. "We could not kill it, for it was not mortal. But we where able to break its body into pieces. Its being still inside these shards of metal. It was only then did my people regain control of our bodies. Many of my people could not handle all that they have done, many went mad. It was only then did I realized just how close we were to losing our souls of our people once and for all. So I created the Arch in our capital."
The green wisps swirling to form a great archway. 
"Here I placed the souls of my people, where they would be free of their minds and what they had done. Their bodies, began to decay. So it was decided that we would take a long sleep, preserve our bodies and awaken once there was life in the world again. So that we could undo what we where forced to do."
The archway morphed into a massive cavern, thousands of thousands of bodies lined its walls, all unmoving.
"We have now returned and we see that once again, our mistake has reared its head. Our nation is in ruins. Almost our entire civilization lies beneath the ground, buried by thousands of years of earth and sand. So I shall give you a warning from the dead to the living. Their are somethings that are forbidden for a reason. Things that should be hidden and never found. Those that look for that which should never be found. Will suffer the consequences for their actions. For the rest of their lives." 
At that the image above dissipated and Ralakor looked again down at the crowd that had watched his telling.
"To help you understand this, our magicians and soldiers will show you the ways of our people. So that, if the day comes, someone will be able to stop the beast."

Koren quietly approached the camp, having drunken two potions to dull his sound and hide is appearance. He reached into his pack, as soon as he reached the center, and drew his rapier. All of a sudden, a dark overcast came to the area, and the winds began to howl. Soon, a figure was rising from seemingly nothing in the center. As Koren began phasing back to reality, as his potion wore off, he grew. Not long after there was a towering giant among them, with a booming voice. "Tidings humans! I the great Koren, Master alchemist, titan immortal do declare! Im completely full of it." returning to a normal voice, with a bit of a squeak as the voice stabilized. "I jest. I'm just an alchemist, with a pennant for mischief. However I was told to tell you my greatest triumph in battle, so I shall."
Koren wasn't the type to fight fair, he just wasn't strong enough to do so, and honor had a price he wasn't willing to pay. Typically, when backed in a corner and forced to fight Koren will drink a Giant's transformation potion, becoming a Giant himself. He had other potions to transform into, dragons for example, but always felt more comfortable as a giant. Even as one, tended to be more peaceful and easy going.
"There was a time once, long ago where I did have to fight, for my friends were dying, my family killed. As a budding alchemist I had some potions lying around, but none too helpful. In the end I was only ever able to save one villager other than myself. The problem was, I could never use magic. And, well, I couldn't rely on might. It was a dark day, a group of psychotic adventurers and their legion of soldiers were conquering nearby territory. Of them all I could recall were a sullen necromancer, possibly undead himself, an assassin of some species Ive never seen before, five soldiers in full armor, an evil wizard, a ghastly undead dragon, a hoard of zombies and at least a dozen phantoms. I learned in our battle, that the assassin was psychic, much to my dismay. He was quite talented.
So as it happened I heard rumors of this shambling army wiping out villages on its way towards mine. As the village began a militia, and tried hiring mercenaries to combat them, I was busy making a catalyst, a weapon. By the time the army had arrived, my village had made a wall to protect us, keeping them out for a siege that lasted nearly two weeks. On the day that they broke through, the zombies came first, shuffling in the streets, attacking at random... Nearly three days passed of attacks and flooding the streets with violence, my weapon was complete. I named it Fujin, for through my soul, I was now able to use magic, and my magic controlled the winds. I unleashed my front door, calling zombies to me, falling ill when I see my neighbors were now under the ranks of the dead. With a slash I conjured wind to decapitate the zombies right there. I then created a mighty twister, filled with thunder, calling the other undead over from the rooftops I would jump down, destroy a zombie, and vault back on the roof, in a typical hit and run fashion. Eventually I tired of this and just swept them away with the winds, battering them against the houses and ground, wiping out the horde. Then they sent the Calvary. Ghosts started swarming me, unbeknownst to them that since my sword resonated with my soul, it had the capacity to affect souls.
My new found winds did nothing to stop the phantoms, so I had to do it the old fashioned way. Stabbing each ghost, I destroyed them one by one. At this point I could hardly stand. After drinking a restorative potion, or at least I thought it was a restoration potion, I began to grow, crushing the house I was sitting on top of. To my surprise, my clothes, and weapon grew too! I did feel a bit better, however this attracted the attention of the main group, who were for the most part just sitting back, letting their minions do their work. They sent the soldiers first, but I stomped on them, and that seemed to do the trick. The necromancer came, and re resurrected all the zombies and the soldiers. I tried stomping on them as they gnawed at my ankles, but they wouldn't die. So I grabbed the necromancer, and crushed him in my grip. The wizard was watching, and used lightning to sever my arm, but it was too late, as I had already killed the necromancer. One after another the zombies fell. The wizard then buffed the assassin, and sent him to execute me, as my new found size wasn't really an issue. Bleeding out, and losing consciousness, I wielded my Fujin, knocking the assassin off of his feet and skewering him, throwing him at the wizard, knocking him down. The wizard gave the assassin a potion, healing him however, and gave him a barrier against my wind attack. as I tried, albeit more slowly as time wore on, to hit the assassin, he seemed to always know where the blow was going to come from. I was growing tireless and ended up running away. The assassin followed me to nearby woods, climbed up some trees and managed to stab me in the back, near my heart. The wound was small however. after that I began shrinking back to size, the assassin believing he won the battle savored for a moment his victory, and began to leave. Using the power of wind, I launched my rapier Fujin at the assassin, cleanly hitting his heart. I reached for another potion, but couldnt in time and passed out. Later on another villager came to thank me for fighting, and administered the ACTUALLY restorative potion, helping me regain consciousness. Unfortunately, I had lost my arm, and needed a different type of potion for that. As we returned home we found the village was absolutely torched, and we had no home to go to. Honestly, that's how I ended up here. the two of us journeyed far and wide, and we ended up creating a store by the phoenix lake temple and western woods. Now, the government has called upon me to be a fighter, and this is the type of fighter I am" Slowly, after that, Koren reduced down to his normal size, and threw his hands in the air "How about that! Now what?" he yelled with a smile.

Edward walked into the mounted mages training area humming absently. Since Reuna had elected to share a story he decided he would as well. He had flip flopped on which story to share. Should he share something from his personal history? Or something from Gauldin's history? He had finally decided to share the tale of The King's War. Time wars were very confusing and he didn't think the mages would have the patience to listen to the whole thing. He waited until a group of mages had gather around him and then he begun the tale.

“I do not know how much you all know of Gauldin. The most common way I have heard my country described though is a land of wine, royalty, and magic. Magic pervades almost every aspect of life within Gauldin. We use it to keep us cool in the summer, warm in the winter, to cook our food, to power our airships, and so much more. It was not always this way though. Four hundred and eighty seven years ago Gauldin was a land ruled by superstition. The people of Gauldin saw magic and magic users as something to be feared and mistrusted.”

“The issue with superstition is that it is born of ignorance. When you are ignorant of something there is no defence against it. So when The Cursed King Kal'Thurum and his horde of undead came to Gauldin her people were defenseless. Villages burned, cities fell, and the streets rain red with the blood of the innocent. The old King of Gauldin was stuck on a pike and paraded through the streets of Travere. Kal'Thurum declared himself king and he began his reign. In our histories the twenty years before he was cast down are known as the age of the necromancer.”

“Kal'Thurum had many apprentices and the most powerful of them was a woman. Her name was Ky'Yar and she was said to be as beautiful as the new moon. A moon with pale skin, raven hair, and perfect features.... Uh that sounds like my wife. Er sorry, she was said to be as cruel as her master and ambitious. Too ambitious apparently for Kal'Thurum likings for he decided to have her killed. The Necromancer King did not want to lose his power, so he plotted to use her life force to become a lich. Ky'Yar learned of his plans and fled from Travere in fear of her life. When Kal'Thurum leanred of this he sent his Blighted knights in pursuit. They were said to be the souls of each warrior he had personally killed. They rode steads the colour of blood, their forms hidden behind armour died a deep rusted red.”

“Ky'Yar was skilled and powerful, but on the run she was vulnerable. The Blight Knights chased her to the cliffs of Deuil Gris. There she was struck through with a spear and sent tumbling to her death, or so those cursed spirits thought. Ky'Yar barely survived and was found by a blacksmith name Delcroix. The young man did not recognize the woman as being one of the tyrants who ruled over him. He saw only a beautiful woman who required help. He brought her to his home and tended to her. Nursing her back to health with the help of the local healer. As such stories go Delcroix found himself falling in love with Ky'Yar. To her own surprise the woman slowly found she reciprocated. They lived in peace and love under the tyrants rule for a long year.”

“As such stories go eventually this good thing came to an end. Kal'Thurum found that his apprentice survived he came to the village and destroyed it. Ky'Yar managed to save herself and Delcroix. She feared that her new beaux would hate her now that he knew who she was. She was wrong, though there was now hate in Delcroix's heart it was all directed toward Kal'Thurum. Together they made a vow to see him fall. They faced many trial and tribulations and had many adventures that deserve their own story. I will not share them all now, instead I want to focus on the end of their last adventure together. ”

“The life blood of Gauldin these days is a special crystal known as Cieltherium. It is a potent magical catalyst and battery, that can store a spell charge for far longer than any other substance. This is how we power our airships and or many magical technologies. Few people know exactly where it came from, but we do know it was discovered by Delcroix and Ky'Yar. This was the weapon they realized they could use to defeat Kal'Thurum. Using her magic and his black smithing skills they forged an artifact. This artifact took the form of a crown with a single piece of pure Cieltherium at the centre. Once it was finished all that was left was empowering it. Unfortunately Ky'Yar lacked the power to do so without giving her life. Delcroix resolved that they would find another way, a different method of empowering the weapon. Ky'Yar agreed, after all she had just given birth.”

Echoes pauses for a moment, a great sadness washing over him as he remembers what happens next.

“Well Delcroix slept Ky'Yar gave her life to the crown. She left him a note explaining why. Explaining that she knew he and their child would never be safe well Kal'Thurum lived. That she knew that there was no other way to power the artifact fully. That this was their one and only chance to secure a world where their child could live in peace and safety. She told him that her spirit would stay in the crown and protect him and their children and their children's children for all time. With the crown of wings Delcroix cast down Kal'Thurum. He took the last name Travere after the city he freed and he never remarried. His bloodline though still rules to this day. I have told you this story to make something clear. War is a terrible thing. It will demand sacrifice both from you and from the people you love. The point of this was to inspire you, but there is no inspiration to be found in war. War is a test of resolve, of courage, and of your humanity. Always remember what war may cost you.”

With that Echoes leaves to find his wife. He has a sudden desire to hold her.