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The Hound

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About The Hound

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    Patron Saint of Corrupted Youth

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    Student

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  1. Hey, as a non native speaker myself I’m glad to help.
  2. You're welcome! If you've got any questions, concerns, comments please feel free to send a message! Happy to help fellow writers!
  3. Your article about Nymphs is good.

    1. Naralia

      Naralia

      Thanks! I wasn't sure I did it right so I'm glad for the feedback.

    2. The Hound

      The Hound

      It looks good in my opinion.

  4. Valucre Discord downsize

    Thanks for sharing this, ‘Los. It’ll help me with organizing the Nymeria chat better
  5. Valucre Discord downsize

    Hey, it’s not like Valchat aggregated at lot of needless stress, work, and bullshit to you guys or anything. Oh. Fu— (Excuse me, gotta keep with the filter) Fluffernutter. Wait. It did! :o Ah well! If y’all think this is the right move, it probably is.
  6. What's going on with Red..

    Not good with words. But here for you.
  7. Nymerian Mage Corps

    The Mage Corps. Composed of the best and brightest magic users in Nymeria, as well as their research assistants, The Mage Corps. is the military’s third and smallest division. It’s main purpose is to serve as a supplementary force to the Land Invasion League and the Deepwatch, providing powerful support through their varied magic techniques. Despite officially being a part of the military, the Mage Corps. devotes the majority of it’s time to research and experimentation, to an incredible and possibly irresponsible degree. On one hand, the near constant time spent advancing magical, and to a degree, scientific progress has led to an unprecedented amount of innovation in a relatively short time span. On the other hand, the Corps. has become infamous for its attempts to spare as few of it’s members for use by the League or Deepwatch as possible, notably utilizing “lotteries” or “battle royales” to decide which Regiments are to be sent while the rest continue their work. Not only that, the Mage Corps. Is single-handedly responsible for the most accidental injuries of young Nymerians in the city’s entire history, due to it’s tendency to bribe students at the Academic Triumvirate with promises of acceptance into its halls once they turn of age. In spite of the reasonable derision felt by the Corps. on account of their less than responsible actions, there is no denying that the positive aspects outweigh the negative ones, providing a steady stream of arcane invention that keeps Nymeria’s power on the rise. The Hierarchy The Mage Corps. operates in a manner almost completely divorced from the rest of Nymeria’s other major institutions, to the chagrin of those who prefer uniformity and professionalism. While still retaining the basic loyalty to the King of the Deep and the King in the Waves that other groups do, the Mage Corps. utilizes a command structure they refer to as an, “Advantageous Anarcho-Democracy”. At it’s core, the Mage Corps. operates as a democracy, with the Mage General acting as the commander-in-chief, the Lord Magus acting as the Mage General’s second, with multiple officers operating below the Magus. Where it differs is in how one is elected into power. The Mage Corps. encourages change and diversity, and as a result, no position barring that of the Mage General’s is safe from being usurped. With the only rules being a guaranteed week long grace period in office, an agreement that politics come second to study, and no enacting grievous bodily harm upon each other, government within the Corps. is wild free-for-all where even the most cruel and cunning would-be-leaders are just as vulnerable as everybody else. From the outside, this makes the Corps. look like a den of chaos and insanity. And it is. But like many of the Mage Corps.’ quirks, they somehow make it work to their advantage. Mage General The leader of the Mage Corps., and the only individual safe from the ever-shifting nature of the other positions. The Mage General generally acts as more of a supervisor than anything, making sure the Corps. stays productive through it’s constant power plays, and stepping in whenever things get out of hand. Lord Magus Second to the Mage General. They serve as a more traditional leader, making decisions on funding, research focus, military duty, and others while the Mage General monitors them, intervening only when the Magus’ actions are in need of approval or dismissal. Officer High-ranking members of the Mage Corps. Officers are the leaders of the five departments of the Corps. They control the actions of their respective departments while vying for the favor/position of the Lord Magus. The Mages The bulk of the Mage Corps. Nymeria’s most talented magic-users are assigned a meaningless Regiment upon joining the Corps., immediately afterwards seeking out the department that best suits their area of expertise. Research Assistants The new arrivals. Every mage has to have one. While they’re too busy crafting new spells or testing devices on unassuming Triumvirate students, the trusty Research Assistants are the ones who perform all the leg work. They record all the data, gather the materials, clean up afterwards, and overall carry out every menial task that the Mages would rather not. Every mage has one. Every mage once was one. Does this mean they get any degree of respect? Not at all. Rumor has it that the Research Assistants have their own miniature governing body, but no former Assistant has ever admitted to such a thing. Whether this is due to ignorance or embarrassment is unclear. The Departments The Mage Corps. is divided into five departments, each dedicated to a specific area of research. The Department of Biomagic The D.B.M. focuses its research on the melding of Nymerian Bioscience and it’s multiple different disciplines of magic, dabbling in the creation of stranger and more powerful creatures. The Department of Arcane-Tecture The D.A.T. focuses its research on the infusing of magic and construction, producing buildings and structures capable of all manner of reality-bending feats. The Department of Artificing The D.A.A. focuses its research on the storing and augmenting of magic through the use of artifacts. The Department of Arcane Combat The D.A.C. focuses its research on the melding of magic and martial arts, whether armed or unarmed. The Department of Metamagical Study The D.M.S. is the most straightforward of the departments, focused on researching magic in it’s pure form, creating new spells and rituals for the different magical disciplines. The Student Interns of the Mage Corps. As any hands-on form of researcher would surely tell those around him despite no one having asked, it is imperative that those in their field have access to living and breathing test subjects to truly understand how their creations would work on the general public. As practically no hands-on form of researcher outside of Nymeria would ever speak aloud lest they have their right to practice revoked, or be murdered by the nearest lynch mob, the easiest and most cost-efficient way to get these test subjects is by bribing children who don’t know any better. Hence the Mage Corps.’ internship program. In exchange for near guaranteed admission when they become of age, students at the Academic Triumvirate spend their evenings as the glorified test dummies for an entire division of ethics-light mages. Precautions are of course put in place. Interns always wear helmets and padding, and are generally kept away from anything that could potentially kill or cripple them. To the Corps.’ credit, there has never been a death of a child in their care since the beginning of the program. There have however been thousands upon thousands of injuries, earning the Mage Corps. campus the nickname of “Childhood’s End”. It is even argued whether there is any educational value to the internship whatsoever. Many former interns went on to become great influencers within the Corps., while also being responsible for some of it’s most famous mistakes and controversies. In the end, the internship program is an institution that has and will surely continue to stand strong. Unlike all the interns who have suffered broken legs. The Research Assistants of the Mage Corps. Every mage was once a Research Assistant. Every Research Assistant will one day become a mage. One would think that this collective experience would breed at the very least a minimal degree of respect for the Assistants. Such an assumption would be wildly incorrect. For somewhat inexplicable reasons, Assistants who have after their two year residency ascended to becoming true mages in all circumstances find themselves either dismissive of or completely oblivious to what they experienced during those years of their lives. And oh, what an experience it is. The official duties of The Mage Corps.’ Research Assistants is to act as an personal aide and scribe for the mage or mages they are assigned to, recording data, providing materials for experiments, and other similar actions. In reality, though, an Assistant’s job is to bend to every whim of the mages while hoping that there isn’t a short supply of interns when they inevitably make someone mad. Research Assistants are the unappreciated backbone that keeps The Mage Corps. Functioning. With the mages so hyperfocused on their own work, it is up to the Assistants to cook meals, clean the building, serve as liaisons between the Corps. and the rest of Nymeria’s military branches whenever the current leadership is too engrossed with internal politics or research, and every other imaginable task under the sun, all while risking hazing and intern substitution whenever they’re not doing anything specifically to the benefit of the mages’ experiments. Though proof is scarce, it is widely believed that the Research Assistants have formed a semi-covert shadow government within the deeper levels of the Corps in an attempt to better coordinate their ranks to keep everything stable. Draft-Dodging of The Mage Corps. Despite popular opinion, The Mage Corps. is a legitimate branch of the Nymerian Military, one whose purpose is to provide it’s powerful spellcasters to the regiments of the Land Invasion League and the Deepwatch whenever they require extra firepower. Alas, this official purpose has long since been thrown to the wayside, with the members and leadership of the Mage Corps. more interested in furthering arcane discovery than wasting their time laying waste to Nymeria’s enemies. Of course, in the end the choice is not theirs to make, and to refuse to honor the wishes of their Kings and his generals would be treasonous. So, to remedy this situation as best as they could, it was decided that when required, they would of course spare some of their ranks. What was interesting was how they decided which regiments would be unlucky enough to be sent off. The most common ways were to have a lottery, where each regiment had their number placed in a bowl, and whichever number was drawn went to war, or to have the regiments nominate a champion to fight against each other, with the losers being sent to war. The method itself was always bound to change, but the basis in luck or skill would be consistent. In the past the Corps. has held quiz bowls, races, tug-o-wars-, eating contests, and more. In the end, though, the losers always honor their commitment, while the winners laugh at the poor suckers who have to leave all their work behind. By: @TheWilySpookster
  8. Sleep had never come easy to the King on the Waves, but surrounded by the familiar scents of the Head Healer’s hut and comforted by the warm, ever-present memories of his time spent with Juni the man found himself finally answering sleep’s seductive calls. It had been rumored for years that after the death of his wife, the King on the Waves had never quite found himself sleeping soundly… But the few who knew him well would’ve been able to amend the statement so it accurately fit the man. After the death of his wife Rxychra’s heart had shattered, and for a while sleep never came. Erratic, impulsive, and taciturn, the Black King had become a maddened blade for a while. And it was only with his family at his side, and Juni’s constant ministrations that he had found himself once more. Unwilling to leave his side throughout the months of his rehabilitation and keeping a watchful eye over his mental health Juni was the one constant presence in his life after the death of his wife, filling the void she had left to the best of her abilities. In many ways, it was her presence that had restored him from the madness that came from losing his mate. She became his sheath. Losing grip of himself in the sweetness of slumber, Rxychra found himself far away from his current reality and drawn back into the deepest parts of his mind. No matter how many years had passed, in his dreams Rxychra could still hear her voice and feel her touch. He could still taste the strawberry-and-honey flavor of her lips, and feel the weight of her head resting on his chest as they slept soundly beneath the sunlight. With her laughter as the soundtrack of his dreams, Rxychra’s memories of the perfect afternoons he had spent beneath sunlight with his beloved Queen played in his mind as a small patch of sunlight that warded off the torrential rain that surrounded the two. In these dreams, Rxychra felt whole. He felt strong, confident, and happy. Almost as if the events that had left to the sinking of Nymerius never happened. But even now, Rxychra was aware of what was dream and what was reality… Because all dreams came to an end. Twitching in annoyance, Rxychra fought his way out of what felt like the drunken stupor of sleep as he felt something tug at a wayward strand of his hair… Which was swiftly followed by a caressing of his nose, nimble fingers against the curve of his lips as soft as a lover’s caress, and a poke to his chin. Quelling the annoyance that had nearly roused from his sleep, the king attempted to relax once more as he felt a hand twirl the same strand of hair that had been tugged at earlier. For a moment, he felt the sleep tug at the edges of his consciousness once more, urging him to relax as the sweet susurrus of slumber seduced him once more… And then he felt something drop right atop of him, wrapping its’ arms around his neck. Instantly Rxychra’s eyes snapped open, an alarmed expression playing on his usually serene face even as his body, honed by years of conflict, sprung to action. Tensing, the Nymerian’s hand went for one of the knives he kept at his side as he was met by… Hugs, kisses, and adoration. For a moment, Rxychra was intensely confused as he shook the last kernels of sleep from his eyes and saw… Juni. His Juni. Wrapping his arms around her waist, the King did something that had been hardly heard in years: He laughed as he pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing her chest against his before touching his forehead to hers and pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. “Hello, Juni.” He said quietly in his deep, melodious voice as his body relaxed against hers and he got his first good look at her after a long, long time. Rubbing his hands against her arms, the king offered her a small but sincere smile that touched even his usual cold silver eyes. Gently putting some distance between their bodies, the king sat her in his lap and looked her up and down. A decade had passed, but not a lot seemed to change with Juni. Not the way her eyes looked at him, nor the way she fit in his arms, or her scent. Distractedly Rxychra’s fingers traced the lattice-like framework of tattoos that decorated her left arm, especially meaningful for the reason she had placed them there. “I am h-” "Shcxay!" Snapping his head up at the name of his nephew, the King eyes widened slightly as he realized that their intimate moment was being watched by one of his nephews. Shcxay. Xaprychor’s son, and a promising youth on his own was nothing like the Black King remembered him. Gifted in magic and physical combat alike, the young man’s Land Invasion Legion outfit had been changed by the silvery armor of the Nymerian Mage Corps, further adorned by what appeared to be the official symbols of the Grand Inquisitor. Gone was the look of boyhood and ambition that had been Shcxay’s standard, replaced by the serious eyes of a man who knew duty, strength, and pain. Feeling the same smile he had flashed Juni tug its’ way back on his lips as pride swelled in his chest… Only to be replaced by a swelling rage that ached to claw its’ way out of his chest as the smiled died away in his face, replaced by the blank mask the Black King had been known for as he placed Juni gently on the floor beside himself. Pushing himself to his feet, Rxychra walked toward his nephew, raising a hand to brush the boy’s cheek gently before kissing his forehead. “Shcxay. My nephew.” Rxychra said quietly, his silver eyes darkened by the anger that prefaced his serene expression as the water around the king began to heat up, causing the man’s hair to billow behind him. “Tell me who did this to you. Tell me, and I shall slay them where they stand. I shall rip them apart with my own hands, I swear it on Myra.” Rxychra said, breath deepening before he pulled his nephew into a gentle hug for a moment before yet another arrival rocked his train of thought. "Surely as all waves return to the seas from which they came, our King in the Waves has returned. Hail, and welcome home! Turning his head toward the new arrival, the man fought the anger that had been building in his chest, sparing a glance at Juni as he attempted to temper the indignation he had begun to feel within on his nephew’s behalf. Focusing on the voice that had called out to him, rousing the man beneath the beast once more as his brother’s other bastard came clear in his view. Urukehu did not look like a son of Xaprychor. Taller than the average Nymerian and boasting of bright red hair and turquoise eyes, there was something about him that seemed… Certain. About everything he did. Or so was the memory of his nephew from so long ago. Standing before him, there was something that appeared solid in the young man’s eyes now. Adult. Flashing the young man a smile, Rxychra nodded toward him and moved his right arm from hugging Shcxay to patting the other young man’s shoulder. “Always so formal, Urukehu.” Rxychra chided him with no real heat, separating himself from his nephews and flashing them both a smile before heading back toward Juni and sitting himself beside her. Wrapping his left arm around her, he pulled his closest friend back toward him and felt her presence quell the rage within him. Closing his eyes, Rxychra took a deep breath. And another. And one more. Like so many years ago, when the loss of his wife had cut him deep in his soul, Juni’s presence provided him solace. “You should know better than to refer to me as King in private. Here, I am your uncle, Rxychra.” Sharing a glance with Juni, the man offered her a small mischievous smile as he lifted the woman and sat her atop of his shoulder, wrapping an arm around her legs and slinging his pack over his shoulder as he stood. Moving as if the Healer weighed no more than his pack, the Black King looked at his nephews and rushed out of the tent, sparing them both a glance over his shoulder. “Schxay, Urukehu. Let’s go back to the Throne of the Oceans… I’ve a feeling that if we keep our lot waiting, they will get a tad bit cranky with me. Juni can tend to you when we’re in the Keep once more.” He called from over his shoulder, flashing his nephews a toothy grin as he began to swim toward the alabaster walls of the inner city. Nymeria, in its’ days in the land, had been a sight to behold. Built by his ancestors from a small gathering of tents into heavily fortified city, surrounded by the marble-like fortifications of the Wall of the Ancients. Raised by his ancestors, and built upon the bones of fallen Nymerian Soldiers, the wall served as a final resting place for those who once served and pledged their souls to serve one final time. Increasing his speed as he swam toward the city, the King put distance between his relations and himself, halting a couple feet from the citadel’s entrance. “Juni… I am glad I got to see you alone. If only for a few moments. It has been much too long…” Rxychra said quietly, turning his silver eyes toward the woman sitting on his shoulders and offering her a small smile as he looked upon his kingdom and felt uncharacteristically… Nervous about entering. With a deep breath, Rxychra looked back toward the gate and forced his face to become neutral once more, as had become expected from the man both feared and revered as the Black King of Nymerius. “It has been ten years since I had gotten a night of peace… But with you at my side once more, I feel almost at peace my dear friend.” He forced the words out in a strangled whisper as he approached the citadel’s gates. “Who goes there!” A thunderous voice called out to him as he approached the old gate of Firdana. Raising his free hand, Rxychra’s eyes sought out the man atop of the wall and stared at him. For a moment, everything stood still as suspicion, followed by surprise, fear, and finally excitement flashed through the soldier’s face as he finally recognized the King on the Waves. In hushed tones, he heard the soldier whisper words of excitement amongst his peers, who began to glance at him from atop the wall. Swiftly, he heard the chains pull at the entrance gates allowing Rxychra and his companion entrance to the inner sanctum of the citadel. Without delay, the Nymerian stepped through his beloved city’s gate and was bombarded by a wave of emotion he had not expected. Nostalgia burned bright in his chest as he looked around at the city he had grown up in. Fierce pride, so strong that it threatened to tear through his chest flooded his being as he saw rows upon rows of men and women whom he had trained with, fought beside, and shed enemy blood with met him at the entrance, pounding their various weapons against the ground and crying out to their King who had returned to them once more… And as ever, words failed him. Raising his free hand Rxychra met their cries with a bestial roar of his own, expressing his pride and joy at having returned to them once more. One by one, the soldiers of the Deepwatch dropped to one knee as their King approached them. “Sons and daughters of Nymeria… Brothers and sisters. I am home.” Rxychra called out to them, the end of his phrase lost in the maelstrom of voices that greeted him as he addressed his soldiers. Raising his hand once more, the king bade them to quiet down as he walked forward. “I am back. Spread the word, and let us rejoice in a way that none but us Nymerians know how to!” He called out to them, motioning for them to stand as he clapped a few soldiers on the shoulders as he made his way through the gathering crowd. Sparing a glance at the shimmering blue building before him, Rxychra forgot about propriety as he began to swim forward once more. Swiftly, the faces of those he had left behind in doing his duty played through his mind. Xaprychor, Rahab, Kharibdys, Urukehu, Schxay, Eilwen, N’ataeya, Q’myha’myha, Ultix, Ulrix, Urzix, and his Juni… They all had awaited his return. And at last… At last… Rxychra Alrandwe di Firdana, the Black King, The King on the Waves… Rxychra, the broken man who had left them. He was home. And he would keep his family waiting no more. @Aleksei@TheWilySpookster@Al Sa-her
  9. Hail and well met

    If you have any questions or need any help, let me know!
  10. Hail and well met

    Welcome to Val, Podge! Hope you find this to be a good home for you!
  11. [Ravenspire] Finally.

    Life was hardly what one expected. In the scenario he had pictured in his mind prior to approaching Raveena, he had calculated a few different reactions: Outrage from the man who had been described as “prideful and cocky” in his files; violence, perhaps from either the woman he was protecting (which he had faced as the most likely scenario; shock at seeing him for the first time since the events that had led him to put distance between the both of them. Rowan had been ready for all of those instances, and he had come up with exit strategies for all of the above… As Raveena glanced at him pulling her body ever so slightly toward his as he wrapped his arm around her, he for a moment forgot about his cover as his eyes met hers… And realized that her reactions had been such because she had not recognized who he was. He was unsurprised that his attempt at an introduction had been ignored. It was only right. The man was an Emperor, and what sort of royalty shook hands with commoners. Meeting the man’s crimson orbs with his own, Sebastian offered him a deliberately salacious wink and held the smirk on his lips. Feeling equal parts amused, disappointed, and perhaps even… jealous, the man begrudgingly recognized to himself. Pushing the emotions he felt bubbling inside of him aside, Rowan-- No, Sebastian, nodded politely and offered smiles toward the Emperor he was feigning being introduced to. Relieved that she had managed to regain her stride, and roll with the proverbial punches rather than throwing them herself, the man found himself impressed with how quickly she had accepted a total stranger’s story. Feeling herself pull away from himself, the man momentarily worried about her parting to violence once more but quickly dismissed the thought. Willing himself to stay in the coiled, relaxed position Sebastian naturally bore, the man watched as Raveena began to circle the Emperor and his woman… But a shift of motion in the Emperor’s escort for the night’s do caused his eyes to shift targets. He watched as she placed a hand against a supple hip and lowered his left hand, waiting to see how she reacted to Raveena. Yes, he had calculated the most likely outcomes for the night… However, the chimera had failed to account for a few different factors as he had sauntered over, which made him seriously question whether he had underestimated the potency of the alcoholic beverages, or if he was merely losing his edge. Attempting to maintain his facade as he listened to Raveena’s long-winded prattling, Rowan felt the corner of his lips twitch as she deliberately insulted the foppish man that stood before him. Not for the first time in the last few months, the man who had been guarding her felt a certain… Fondness over the woman as she let the man know in no uncertain terms who she was in what he had began to describe as ‘True Raveena Manner.’ Taking a long pull of his drink, the man hid the chuckle caused by he felt about her statement about the “particularly handsome gentleman” with a polite cough. Once again attempting to clear his mind, the Spider forced himself to think about the things he had missed: Firstly, even though he had assumed that the Emperor of the Datsuzoku clan had not come unprepared for conflict, he had failed to realize that in a mirror of Raveena’s unwitting actions, he carried his protection as close to himself as possible. And that brought him to the second cause for his consternation: The woman who stood beside Koji was an unknown factor. Dismissed at first because she appeared to be nothing more than yet another part of the harem that had been noted in his files about the young man, Rowan found himself deeply disturbed by the familiar gleam in her eyes. He had seen that in people readying themselves for impending violence. By the gods, he had seen that gleam in his own eyes while glancing in mirrors. This woman was an unknown quantity, and therefore it was safe to assume that she was a threat until assessed otherwise. Readying his Derringer, he moved his eyes toward Raveena and felt himself cringe inwardly. Third… She had not recognized him, despite the fact he had not changed his appearance in any significant a manner. Sure, he had covered his scar up and let his hair loose, but he hadn’t been away for so long that she should’ve forgotten what he looked like… And that told him something important. Either she had drank too much, or as per expected her abilities were dampened enough in Kadia that she could not tell who he was… Which explained why she seemed so at ease in his presence. Long-winded although she might have been, Rowan could admire the well placed ‘non-threats’ that the woman he had pledged himself to protect had placed. He knew that she had the knowledge to deliver them, but if it came to a physical confrontation… He still found himself doubting that her bellicose disposition would match who she presented herself as. Fighting back the urge to fiercely grin as the woman who had caught his eye asserted her dominance over the Emperor who had so boldly laid claim to favor garnered by the petite woman not so long ago. She may have believed that she had been bluffing, but after the Himmelfestung Affair, he had found himself agreeing with her. He was more than ready, more than willing to tear Koji apart for the way he had looked at Raveena… And the way that the so-called Emperor had deigned to address her had caused more than a few impulses to eliminate him already. None of which had to do with the insect DNA in his body. With a deep breath, the chimera felt his eyes leave Celine once more as the scent of wild gardenias that accompanied Raveena strengthened. Turning orange eyes to meet the woman’s own, he pressed his face against her soft skin and offered her a slow, sensuous smile. Wrapping an arm around her once more, Sebastian kissed the inside of her wrist and squeezed her gently, twirling her before letting her go on her way with a nod and a wink to respond to her own. Turning his back toward her, he chuckled mischievously to himself and focused on the pair that stood before him, staring at the man as he began to speak in his soft, cultured voice and smiled at his charge. It had seemed to him that little Raveena had hit her mark, managing to find her way beneath the arrogant man’s skin. Smug amusement filled his mind, only to be felled by the words the man formulated while thinking he was just another nameless face in the masses. “Be with you in a moment, Rae-Rae.” He purred after in a jovial tone her as he heard her walk off. Crossing his arms, the chimera decided he had enough. Stumbling forward as if to feign drunkenness the man approached the Emperor and his date, all trace of the carefully constructed effete facade draining from his face and replaced by the cold, calculating look of Rowan Knight. Flashing his teeth at the man, Rowan nodded his head in acknowledgment of his words and pulled himself up, standing at his full height as the rictus of a smile lit up his features. This was no longer a professional matter. To the man, it had just become a point of pride. Resisting the urge to free his Derringer from his sleeve, Rowan stared at Koji’s face for a minute and nodded coldly. "I'll make sure to pass word to Raven that you'll request a visit soon enough, Koji." Rowan said in a quiet, contemptuous tone as he looked down at the man with his eerily glowing orange eyes as the Terran accent he had put in place for the night slipped and allowed the traces of his true heritage to creep in. "As for insolence... It'd behoove you to remember that she's not beholden to you. And I am not your servant either. But while we’re on that subject, mate… The guy she mentioned? That would happily tear you apart for looking at her the wrong way? He does not take it any more kindly when some ridiculous sod decides to speak of her in the wrong manner… And he’s never far from her side." He said quietly, taking a step back as he slipped the mask of Sebastian Krauss once more. Turning his back toward the duo, Rowan looked at the man over his shoulder and offered him yet another saucy wink, accompanied by a smirk. “It sure was an honor meeting the two of you, but this is a wedding! Have fun, enjoy yourselves, and try the food! It’s simply divine. Bye-Bye now.” He said in his well-practiced Terran accent as he began to walk away, following the faint trail of wild gardenias that led him precisely where he had wanted to go… And it hadn’t led him very far. Standing not even half a room away from where he had contacted him, Raveena seemed entranced by someone or something. Following her line of sight, Rowan arched an eyebrow as the couple that were hosting the night’s do kissed. Feeling a slow burning smirk on his lips, Rowan approached his charge quietly. “Now now, Rae-Rae… Don’t you know that voyeurism isn’t precisely appreciated!” He chided her lightly in mock-horror as his hand sought out hers, pulling her gently to himself. Wrapping an arm around her delicate waist, Rowan placed her hand at his shoulder and winked at her before pulling them both toward the dance floor. During his years as an undercover asset, the man had picked out a myriad of skills he had nary a reason to display… But dancing, however. Dancing was something he had found quite useful during his years in the battlefield. Nothing disarmed one’s target as well and lent credibility to a persona as well as knowing the way across the ballroom. Settling in a slow waltz, he pulled her body against his and leaned down, caressing the skin of her neck once again with his lips before resting them by her ear. “All in all, little Raveena, you did quite well with your speech, I think, although there is something to be said about brevity being the soul of wit.” The man whispered as his feet moved to the ballad’s rhythm, slowly changing from the god awful Terran accent he had donned for the evening back into his usual tone. Dipping her gently, the man pulled her back up and against himself before continuing. “But the frustrating thing with you, lass, is that it’s always one step forward and two back with you. How do you trust a complete stranger whom you did not recognize? As a matter of fact, how did you not recognize me. Bloody hell, woman, I barely disguised myself.” He scolded her lightly, although his voice held no censure or heat. “Also… Particularly handsome gentleman, hm?” He said as he pulled back, touching his forehead to hers as he swayed to and fro. Offering her a small, but sincere smile the chimera watched her as she processed the information he had just given her, hoping to God that she had finally understood who he was as they continued to dance the night away. @Deus Ex Aizen@Al Sa-her@Aleksei
  12. Nymerian Timeline

    The Awakening and the Fall of the Elder God (3 Years before the Fall of the Elder God): As the decades passed and Nymerians fell to their new purpose, the illusion of purpose that had overtaken them was solidly cemented within their heads. Once proud, honorable and warlike, the Nymerian Empire devolved into something much more brutal. Devoid of the concept of mercy for their enemies the soldiers killed and died in the name of their King and dedicated each victory to their God, fueling the rumors that had began to form about the haunted seas and the army that appeared from time to time in their “ghost ships”. Even as time passed and his nation prospered, the Black King of Nymerius felt uneasiness battle with the fierce devotion he found for his God. Deep inside of his soul, a part of him felt that this all was… Wrong. Unnatural. Voicing his concerns to his wife and only confidant, he found that she also had felt… Tainted. And yet they carried on as if nothing was happening around them. Now at the age of 299, the King of Nymerius found the trouble that had been storming within him only began to grow as their God, naming himself Ssalz'trax, appeared at the edge of one of the surrounding trenches and demanded sacrifices. Horrified and awed the King felt reluctant to comply with their monstrous God’s edict, only doing so when urged by the other clan leaders. Now entirely unsettled by how his people accepted the demands for sacrifice with such ease, Rxychra’s mind began to fight against the spell that so long ago had taken root within it. Questioning the God’s demands to his inner Council, the king earned more than one surprised stare even as they attempted to protest. Settling for a sacrifice of thirteen, Rxychra gathered the most recent criminals within the Nymerian Empire and headed towards the edge of the trench, escorted by the other twelve council members, his wife, and the royal family. Bringing forth the thirteen prisoners, the King of Nymerius called forth the Elder God and presented him what he had asked for with a hard, inscrutable expression on his face. Taking note of that, the Elder God lowered its’ monstrous face to meet the King’s noting the disgust in his eyes with particular curiosity. The voice that had once sounded melodious in Rxychra’s head for nearly 300 years now had returned to its’ demonic double timbre as Ssalz’trax called him forward and asked if he still served. Bowing his head, the King dropped to one knee and forced himself to say he still did as he felt his people’s stirring behind him. With one glance at his wife, the man forced himself to look the creature in the eyes and swore his allegiance once more… And for a moment, all seemed well until the horror before him wrapped a tentacle around him and lifted him up. Softly, the god’s voice seemed to batter inside of his head as it taunted the King and bade him to watch what the cost of a lie to his Master was. Swiftly, Ssalz’trax dispatched the Thirteen chosen sacrifices, and announced that he was not satisfied with their offering. Dread grew inside of Rxychra’s heart as he began to suspect what was to come next, but even as he struggled the tentacles of the creature that had for so long masqueraded as their God tightened around him. It was only then that his wife cried out, stepping forward and brandishing the trident she had chosen as her weapon and demanding that Nymerius’ king be released. With a resounding cackle, the Elder God’s tentacles shot forward, pulling apart the light cloth swatches that had covered the redhead's body and declaring her to be a worthy sacrifice. Wrapping its’ tentacles around each of her wrists and legs, Ssalz’trax displayed her bare form as a fifth appendage began to travel around her body, followed by a sixth. Her screams cut through the silent waters as the monster defiled her, only matched by the agonizing screams of her mate. Struggling with renewed vigor, Rxychra managed to pull free the hook sword he carried at his side, severing the tentacle that held him prisoner. With a cry of defiance, the king lifted his blade and began to swiftly move toward his wife. For a moment, the Elder God allowed the King to think that he could save his mate, save the woman who had ruled at his side and provided a light in his heart… And as the Black King of Nymerius approached her, Ssalz’trax tightened his razor-like appendages around her arms and legs and pulled them apart, bathing the Nymerian King in a mist of golden blood as his beloved’s body floated toward the floor. Without thinking, the Nymerian King wrapped his arms around her torso, holding it gently as he fell onto his knees at the bottom of the trenches. He watched her as she struggled to speak, silver eyes never leaving her golden ones even as the fire in them faded away, leaving a dull husk. He hadn’t needed to hear her in order to understand what she said. The meaning was clear. It was… Goodbye. For a moment, the world seemed to stop around the King of Nymerius as the price of his failures came crashing atop of him. He had failed to save his father. Failed to protect his people. Failed to… Failed Myra. For a moment, grief threatened to overwhelm and swallow him. Black King indeed; no matter how much he fought it, he always seemed to snuff out the light around him. Dimly, he heard the cries of his family and the clan leaders who had aided in his rule, but it all seemed meaningless as the voice of his beloved caressed his ears, taunting him with what now was beyond his reach until the end of his days. The precipice of grief that had begun to swallow him was interrupted once more by the cackles of the Elder God, now audible to all of those around him as he warned them of what the cost of betrayal was, and how sweet the Queen had been... And just like that, the pit of grief, the overwhelming darkness that managed to consume the King was cut away, replaced with an anger unlike that which Rxychra had ever felt before. Gently placing the body of his wife on the ground the Black King reached for her fallen trident and his hook, turning his eyes toward the Elder God and letting out a primal, bestial roar of pure hatred. It was at that moment that once again, the very grounds at the bottom of the ocean began to shake and an aura of seafoam green light surrounded him. His screams reverberated through the sunken capital of Firdana, echoed by thousands upon thousands of screams as the spirits guarding the Wall of the Ancients answered their current King’s call. Feeling the power of generations upon generations of Nymerians crying out for revenge, the king jumped forward and stabbed the trident with surprising force, driving it beneath the Elder God’s chin. The creature’s roar echoed through the surroundings, high pitched in both surprise and pain. Staring down the Nymerian King with black hatred, the Elder God wrapped one of its’ tentacles around the trident and the king’s wrist, stabbing through the man’s armpit with another of its sharp appendages. Although the pain registered, a lance of lucidity through his storming anger, it no longer mattered. With his free arm, the King began to hack at the Elder God’s flesh. His life no longer mattered; the monster had seen to that. All that was left was the task at hand. With yet another roar of challenge, Rxychra felt a surge of magic course through him, releasing a bolt of electricity into the creature. With a hissing, rasping noise, Ssalz’trax shot two of his tentacles forward, impaling them cleanly through Rxychra’s stomach. The battlefield quieted as the sickening sound of tearing flesh was heard, and the King was separated from his arm and began to fall. Closing his eyes the Black King of Nymerius began to plummet toward the ocean floor, with thoughts of being reunited with his wife once more. Faintly, he heard the cries of his brother and his sister, and a small part of him felt a pang of regret at causing his family yet more grief. Watching their elder brother die was all it took. Almost at once, the three remaining siblings shot forward and rushed to their brother’s aid. Wrapping his arms around his brother, Xaprychor’s face was a mix of rage and horror as he assessed the damage inflicted by the Elder God while Rahab and Kharybdis danced forward, fending off the God’s attacks with their weapons. Laying his brother down gently by the remains of his wife, Xaprychor turned his face toward the Elder God and summoned his own magical abilities, bringing out his own whip-blade and swinging it forward, unleashing a highly-pressurized airwave that cut through the beast’s thick hide. With a cry that echoed the pain his brother had felt before, the second son of the Alrandwe Clan rushed forward with his brother and sister in tow… And that seemed to snap the remaining clan leaders back into reality. Almost at once, the twelve men let out cries of grief at the loss of their king, of anger at the loss of the queen, and of challenged as they joined the royal siblings in battle. While the battle raged, light engulfed Rxychra as he came out of his long sleep, surprised to see his wife sitting at his side with a sad smile painted on her features. With golden eyes meeting silver ones once more, she bade the king to sit up and speak to her. Blearily, Rxychra sat up and felt no small amount of alarm as he saw the sun above his head; He recognized this place. It was the garden where he had proposed to her… And it was then that the remembered. She was dead, and he had failed her. With a trembling hand, the Black King of Nymerius brushed her cheek lightly and bowed his head, apologizing for failing to save her. Shaking his hand off, Myra glared at him and assured he hadn’t failed her… At least not yet. Urging him to wake up she stated that the only way he would fail her would be dying before he freed his people. Placing a kiss against his lips the Queen of Nymerius bade him to live a long life and urged him to join the living, and to move forward without living in the past. Gasping, Rxychra sat up and was greeted with the sight of his family and fellow clan leaders fighting alongside each other. Attempting to push himself up with his left arm, the king looked down and grimaced as he realized how badly he was wounded… But with his mate’s words ringing in his ear, the Black King of Nymerius pushed himself to his feet once more and let out a bestial roar of challenge, causing his siblings and clan leaders to look at the man whom they had thought dead with astonished eyes. Slowly, Rxychra stepped forward and stared down the bleeding, hulking figure of the Elder God with serene silver eyes. Raising his hook, Rxychra called forward the power of his ancestors, feeling the touch of Y’zralthra and all of the other Kings and Queens of the Alrandwe Clan as he leaped forward and swung his hook with all the strength he could muster. Bolstered by the strength of his ancestors, the dreams of his people, and the love for his wife that guided his every move, Rxychra unleashed a wave of pure magical energy that parted the very seas, bifurcating the Elder God and ending its’ grip upon his people. Exhausted the King of Nymerius stood before the fallen God, unwilling to bend his knees before the fallen monster once even as he was ushered to unconsciousness by his wife’s melodious laughter. A week passed until Nymeria’s King return to consciousness, thanks to the combined effort of his Tidecaller Vyhax, and his best friend and personal healer Juni. Although his physical wounds had began to heal, Rxychra was not the same man; Once full of fire, the Black King of Nymerius was now a shadow of the man he had been. For a while Rxychra pondered ending his own life in order to meet his wife, but decided against it upon remembering the last words she had spoken to him in his dream. Cognizant of the fact he could not bear the burden alone, Rxychra summoned the other Twelve Clans to his hospital bed and presented a plan that would change Nymerius to its very core: Calling upon his powers as king, Rxychra dissolved the monarchy model that had ruled Nymerius since its’ beginning and established a diarchy, naming his brother Xaprychor King in the Deep, and himself King on the Waves. Encouraged by his brother and Vyhax, the Tidecaller, Rxychra allowed himself to be fitted with a left arm made out of the bones of the Elder God. No longer bound by the monster’s geas, the now Underwater civilization of Nymeria began to move toward healing their community’s wounds once more. For Rxychra, however, that meant putting distance between himself and his wife’s final resting place. Gathering the clan leaders and his newly crowned counterpart, Xaprychor, the King in the Deep declared his intentions to travel and gather the new lay of their land. Met with resistance from his brother as well as the fellow clan members, Rxychra remained adamant in his position. With one last decree, the Black King suggested that they change the capital’s name to Nymeria, in remembrance of the world they had come from. With nothing but the weapon he had been presented by his brother, the net that reminded him the weight of his rule, and his wife’s necklace around his neck, Rxychra departed from the newly named Nymeria. For the next 20 years, the Kingdom of Nymerius struggled to find its’ pulse once more. Realizing their new in-land limitations, Xaprychor set his mind to solve that problem in case they ever needed to defend themselves against land-dwellers. After many cases of trial and error, the King in the Deep innovated land warfare by the creation of the Land Invasion Suits. The period after the downfall of the Elder God was described as an era of cultural growth and enlightenment, adapting old traditions and creating new ones. Meanwhile, the King on the Waves traveled from place to place in search of a balm for his wounded soul, losing himself in battle, romantic trysts, and temporary solutions to a problem that plagued him. Checking in with Nymeria every once in awhile, the Black King found himself back to his home after nearly three decades. Greeted home with open arms, Rxychra asked his brother to summon the other twelve clan leaders for a meeting of the Thirteen Clans. Surrounded by his advisor and his fellow King, Rxychra related to them all of the things he had seen, from the areas of corruption that still reeked of the Elder God’s aura to the quiet, peaceful Carchaeran Kingdom where he had met the Goddess of the Sharks. Plagued for months by the voice of the Elder God in his dreams, he had found out that their foe’s vengeance was yet to come. Quietly, the King on the Waves ordered the immediate evacuation of the Thirteen Clans and their soldiers into the citadel. He had a plan, and although it was far from the best course of action, it was the only one they had left. Swiftly, a great many deal of things began to happen; As swiftly as they could, the Thirteen Great Families sent out their army to command the mandatory inhabitation of the citadel located within the Wall of the Ancients while Rxychra gathered the Mage Corps and spread them around the citadel the wall. Standing at the very center of the Throne of the Oceans, Rxychra knelt and sunk his weapon upon the ground. It was then that the familiar slick, terrible voice of the Elder God began to invade their minds once more, tauntingly congratulating them on their win against him… And warning that the cost of their arrogance would be their destruction. As sudden as it had come once so many centuries ago, the tremors that had broken the continent of Nymerius began once more. Fervently and with the picture of his wife in mind Rxychra began to pray to the fallen of Nymerius. Almost at once, the voices of the warriors past began to answer him, appearing on top of the Wall of the Ancients even as the shadow of the Elder God appeared before them. A dome of blue light surrounded the citadel as Ssalz’trax’s fist moved to strike them. With a barrage of blue sparks, the fist struck the barrier and a score of ghosts came out… Headed by King Razilon. Raising his arms, Rxychra’s father surrounded by his ancestors let out a mighty bellow and jumped at the Elder God. Sparing a glance at his son, the King and his ancestors struck at the Elder God, pushing him back as the capital that had once been called Firdana disappeared, leaving nothing but a shadow in its’ stead.
  13. Nymerian Timeline

    The Breaking (270 Years before the Fall of the Elder God): Over the course of the next few weeks, the Royal Family grieved as they could. For Rxychra and Kharybdis, that meant time spent training with the soldiers until neither of them could anymore, followed by drinking in order to forget their feelings. At the end of the night, Rxychra sought solace in the arms of his wife while his brother found it in a myriad of trysts. Xaprychor lost himself in his studies, detaching from his emotion as well as he could while Rahab served as a study of contrast, keeping a strong face in front of her people but grieving privately.The worst of all, however, was Razilon. Faced with the loss of his mate, the King’s mental health began to deteriorate to the point where it started affecting his physical well being. Steadily losing weight and talking to himself, the king shut himself out in seclusion and began to blame his family’s absence for their mother’s passing. Fearing for his own life after the loss of his mate, the King began to lose his ability to sleep soundly throughout the night anywhere but at the Temple of the Elder Gods. In his dreams the King began to hear the voice that had spoken to him more clearly, offering him power to protect his kingdom in exchange for servitude. Razilon listened fearfully, revering the ‘benevolent god’ who had come along to offer them another chance at survival. Concerned by the King’s words, the head of the Toa Clan sent word to the other members of the Thirteen Great Clans and summoned the eldest son of the Alrandwe, Rxychra, as well. Troubled by the report related to them by the Toa Clan, the clan leaders and the Prince of Nymerius considered their options. Appealing on behalf of his father, Rxychra argued on behalf of speaking sense to their King and attempting to bring him back to sanity. Mollified, but not wholly convinced by the youth’s argument, the Thirteen Clans cast their votes on the matter: They would allow the Prince to try and reach his father, but they would not let him go alone. Finding that agreeable the Prince and the other twelve headed toward the Temple of the Gods, feeling more uneasy with each step.. What greeted the Thirteen that day would be a sight that would forevermore be burned into their memories: The once alabaster columns of the temple seemed tarnished and the sickly-sweet smell of decay filled their nostrils as they stepped into the temple. Greeted by the sight of what appeared to be drowned, rotting corpses and oppressive silence where there used to be prayer and song, the Thirteen Men reached for their weapons and created a circle, covering each other’s backs. With dread filling him, Rxychra commanded the other twelve to search for survivors as he approached the doorway to the Temple of the Gods. Pushing the door open, Rxychra was greeted by the man who had once been King Razilon. Pale and bloated, the man’s body emanated an eerie, glowing green light even as he sunk his knife in another of the Priest’s body. Shouting for his father and demanding that he stopped this madness, the Prince stepped forward with grief on his face as he watched the once benevolent man kill another of his people. Hearing his father’s voice call it a necessary sacrifice, the young man trembled as another set of eyes glowed on his forehead. The words of his father echoed in his ears as the smell of decay seemed to overtake the room, battering his senses. It was then that he heard another voice laughing, a demonic double timbre that chilled him to his very bones. Rasping, the voice said it accepted the King’s sacrifice, and it would provide power to it’s new servants. Outside of the temple, the city had begun to fall into chaos as tremors began to afflict the island with increasing strength as the skies themselves began to weep for the Kingdom of Nymerius. As the now Mad King Razilon began to speak, the chilling laughter of the ‘Benevolent God’ became louder, audible to those in the peripheries of the city. Agonized, the Prince of Nymerius closed his eyes and heard the cries of his people surrounding the Temple. With tears welling beneath his eyelids, the Prince of Nymerius stepped forward and felt the weight of a King’s mantle for the first time: In a desperate attempt to end the turmoil, Rxychra lifted his arm and slashed his wrist toward his father’s head, separating it from his body. A chorus of gasps came from behind him, and as Rxychra turned around with his father’s blood still splattered on his face and tears tracking down his eyes, he watched as the other twelve clan leaders fell to one knee and proclaimed him their new King. Days passed since the death of Razilon, and for a moment everything seemed to return to normal. Crowned as the new King of Nymerius, but commonly referred to as the Black King by the people who heard whispers of what he had to endure and believed him to be ‘darkened’ by his patricide, Rxychra’s once fiery personality became tempered by a somberness that was only lightened by the constant presence of his wife, Queen Myra. For twelve days, it seemed like their lives would return to normal… Until the moon rose with a green hue on that twelfth night. As quickly as they had ceased, the tremors overtook Nymeria once more, breaking apart the land and causing parts of it to drift. Firdana, however, and its’ citizens… They were slated to suffer for much longer. “You are mine, as accorded” the voice of the Elder God resonated through the city as it began to sink. That night, later referred to as the Breaking, was the death of Nymerius and its’ rebirth. Dragged to the bottom of the Ocean by the unseen force that had shattered their lands, the people of Nymeria felt a flurry of emotions that ranged from confusion, to fear, to sadness, to anger as the air left their lungs and water filled them… And finally, they felt nothing anymore but bliss. And strength. They knew that their God had ‘saved’ them, and as promised, strengthened them. Still at his throne, Rxychra’s once blue eyes changed to silver and his hair reflected the blue hues of the ocean. A smile came to his face as he felt his connection to the ocean, to the Elder God-- no, the One True God. Yes, the bottom of the ocean is where they people belonged… And God help those who disturbed his kingdom. During the course of the next 267 years, the Sunken Kingdom flourished and adapted itself to life at the bottom of the sea. Constructing and expanding the original capital within the trenches and surrounding areas, the already strong militaristic presence was further augmented by the alterations the God they now had been bound to made within them. Fighting at the behest of the nightmare that had doomed their nation and believing him to be their salvation, the Nymerians lived under the blissful guise of self-reliance all the while the chains that bound them squeezed them ever so much more tightly by the day. The people were enslaved and unaware of the fact Rxychra and the Royal Family led their people into an era of martial prowess, eliminating the enemies of their society’s ‘Savior’.
  14. Nymerian Timeline

    The Rise of the Royal Four (300 Years before the Fall of the Elder God): Raised in a prospering kingdom of warriors and artists alike, King Razilon ruled for his first thirty years as a man who equally indulged in the arts and the arts of warfare. Deeply religious, the King spent hours in the Temple of the Elder Gods praying for the prosperity of his people and for the strength to carry the mantle of king. It was there that he met a young priestess initiate named Mhyande. After months of courting and flirting, the King asked for her hand in marriage. From their love, the King and the Queen of Nymerius brought to life four children. Their eldest Rxychra, was a child full of fire and promise who seemed to excel as well in and out of the battlefield. Charismatic and kind, the heir to the Azure Throne was well liked by his people and dedicated to serve as best as he could. Their second oldest, Xaprychor, was a boy whose curiosity and ingenuity seemed to surpass any Nymerian seen in years. Even at a young age the boy found his passion in books and his experiments, becoming a warrior whose predominant gift was his mind. Kharybdis, however, was another story: Cool and collected where his brothers were full of passion and fire, it was said that their third child had been born with a weapon in hand. As the years passed and Rxychra and Kharybdis grew, the two found that they favored each other’s company in the battlefield and became frequent sparring partners. Their last child, however, came as a surprise: The first daughter to be born to the royal family in generations, Rahab was a child of duality-- Fierce and unstoppable toward those who would oppose her, and soft and kind and loving toward those who won a place in her heart. For a time, peace seemed to rule in Nymerius. Raised in the relative ease of their time, the four Royal Siblings treasured their time with each other and their parents, growing close and creating the bond that someday would be the salvation of their people… And as time passed, Razilon grew more and more firm in his belief that the peace they experienced was to be credited by the presence of the Elder Gods in his life. More and more the King’s personal belief began to affect his judgment, leading to a series of decrees that demanded sacrifices upon the name of the Elder Gods and the instilling of religion upon their culture. Met with resistance from the other Clan Leaders as well as his family the king still insisted upon the rightfulness of his decrees, causing a rift between the King and his subjects. At the tender age of 18, Rxychra’s life changed for the first time: Through his childhood friend and healer trainee Juni, the Nymerian Prince met a woman unlike any he had ever wooed: Fair skinned and with a mane of burning red hair that matched her personality the odd, golden eyed woman named Myra seemed to cause the entire world shift before him. Suddenly and inexplicably the Nymerian Prince found himself entirely smitten by the woman, finding that all other women faded from view when she entered a room. Even more inexplicably, the fiery woman who had so thoroughly taken his heart has trusted him with her heart in return. After two years and a merry chase, Rxychra wed his heart’s own and proclaimed her a Princess of Nymeria. On the day of Rxychra’s 25th birthday the unthinkable happened: After years of peace with their neighboring nations, a contingent of black-armored soldiers unlike any they had seen brought war upon Nymerius again. Feeling the call to arms deep in his bones, Rxychra and his siblings took it upon themselves to rally the Nymerian armies and fight off the invaders. It was then that Razilon gathered the Thirteen Clan Leaders, berating them for not listening to him and blaming the war that had been brought to their lands on their lack of faith. For weeks the King sequestered himself to his chambers and the Temple of the Elder Gods, speaking no words to anyone about the dreams he had began to receive or the fact that when he spoke to the Gods, a voice now answered him. For the next five years the Royal Siblings waged a fierce, bloody war against the enemies of Nymerius… Who had unbeknownst to them infiltrated the Firdanan Capital. Returning home in victory and glory, the children of Razilon were met with a capital in mourning: In an attempt on the King’s life, the would be assassins aimed at the target but missed their mark, resulting in the death of Queen Mhyande. Lost in grief, the Nymerians found had won the war, but had been wounded in permanent ways. The day of her death by declaration of the Lorekeepers was henceforth known as the Day of Remembrance, where people could grieve the losses that this war caused them.
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