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Iblis Faust didn't make a habit of answering the calls of random summoners; but he had made an exception in this case. For one thing, the one calling him seemed to be exceptionally powerful; meaning he could pay a hefty price for whatever he desired. The most interesting thing however, was that this stranger knew certain things about him; certain names, and the right way to say them. Contrary to popular belief, there was no way to compel him to appear by speaking his name three times or some other nonsense, but this did make the summoner stand out. His interest sufficiently piqued, he arrived at the meeting place to find a strange sight before him. He had arrived on what looked like a dilapidated stage at the center of a similarly rundown stadium. Around him were hundreds, no, at least a thousand men and women, all clad in white robes and kneeling, facing the stage. Grinning, he looked around, clapping slowly as he did so. "You've put on quite a show," though he did not yell, his voice seemed to fill the whole stadium as he spoke, "I'm quite curious to know what you desire." @amenities
The evening sun's ever reaching light laid upon the span of the Moonwood giving it a beautiful view of it's lush wilds, and it's great people: the Fae, or for better lack of knowledge Fairies. However within the lush wilds remains a roaring river, filled with sharp rocks and dangerous currents that lead out to the ocean. The river itself is big, maybe not the size to add to the map but just big enough to be avoided by careful travelers and merchants should they stray from main roads. The rivers wicked push is followed by many twists and turns, however, a divide created another smaller stream, still as fast as ever. This divide if not the main river lead to many deaths as treasure hunters and explorers trying to reach an all but forgotten place of old. No one knew it's true name, no one knew if any inhabitants still lived there, but tales spanned of an old kingdom hidden beyond the river that once held great power. Whatever happened to it left it but a fairytale amongst children, who's parents grew up with the same tale. Many searched for it and for many years the old kingdom remained a mystery. Only one map was found in an old ruins of Terrenus and the bidder sold it for a high price, skeptical if the fools who bought it would disappear. No one's ever made through that river. And even if they did there was said to be a demon lurking within the kingdom, but archeologists, explorers, and cartographers of all kinds searched for it despite the warnings. And where were they now? The divided river traveled to a large lake, hidden by tall trees and thick brush and at it's end were a cave. Within it, a massive cavern housed a huddled bunch of houses, all leading to a large temple. Above, tree branches covered an open top of the cage, but sunlight still shone through allowing the area illumination. Many birds chirps above, this place perfect for their homes as predators can't catch them. The old kingdom did in fact exist, but much of it was either drowned or crumbled to rubble. The old streets were but cracked stone with much of the flora covered, old buildings either falling apart or barely intact were invaded by vines and weeds. Beyond this sorry state was a large temple, a hundred stairs crawling to it's entrance, and inside through the dark halls is a room. Skeletons of humans and unknown creatures littered it's entirety, a smooth black granite sarcophagus in the center. A purple hue, much like a slow fog, surrounded the sarcophagus as runes at the bottom glowed brilliantly. But they faded in color before disappearing entirely leaving a simple carving. The entire object moved, vibrating just lightly before shaking, slowly the lid cracked and then exploded outward. From it quickly raised a large body of black, the dust and fading purple hue helping its obscurity. A beast of a roar escaped the dust as it cleared up, revealing a tall humanoid wolf. Followed by it's roar, it weild two silver longswords, and followed by it's roar it leapt from the sarcophagus. The beast looked about, it's rage as it looked more around the he entire room. It breathed heavily, and dropping the swords it began to step forward inspecting the surroundings. Confusion began to take root, there was no battle, no one around to hear it's war cry, nothing that would spark a fight. It walked out of the room and into the long dark halls, and as it walked it stepped into a large puddle. It knelt down above it, looking at its own features. Rain Dark was a prophet of the Old Ones, old gods they worshipped and even fought alongside. Prophets weren't meant for combat though, they were shepard's that lead others into their religion, that were much like rulers in a way but still followed orders under the one sovereign. Rain Dark however was different, as he was built more as a warrior than anything. As much of a prophet he was, he led many to war and every time they won. Almost every time. In his own reflection of the puddle, Rain Dark saw the grievous wounds from combat were gone, while he didn't feel it, he was certainly healed to a bare extent. Scars spanned his torso, neck, and arms, no doubt leading up his shoulders and across his back. Bit blocking parts of his chest were rusted chains, heavy and tight, he remembered the reason why they were on but kept them instead of tossing them away, an old tale for another day. The wolf looked lower, remembering the brass plated leather leggings he wore but beared no footwear. He didn't need any boots, too uncomfortable. The prophet then looked into his own eyes, pitch black the orbs were but his irises were a glowing blue. The prophet then continued his way until outside the temple, shocked to see his home, the very thing he fought for ruined and shambled. The realization struck him hard, he wasn't simply pushed into that tomb to knock off his balance, purposefully he was put under some spell. And if correct that the town below was nothing but ruins, skeletons of the once proud people present, even the armor and weapons rusted and missing chunks of their once glorious blades missing. Rain Dark knew he'd been put to rest, had he not, he would have ended like the others. A fluster of emotions swelled, anger, sorrow, grief, and confusion all clouded his mind. How long was the once proud prophet asleep for? We're the humans, orcs, and dwarves gone as well? Rain Dark collapsed to one knee and slammed a fist into the stone beneath, a solid crunch gave way as the ground cracked under the force. Tears began to build as Rain Dark knew the lives that were in his grasp were all gone. Whoever did this were long gone, and whoever did this couldn't pay which only angered him even more but nothing could be done about it. The damage was done, long ago it seems. He stood, wiping away tears looking at everything from above in the cavern. He could still see a time when everyone was walking these streets, where the water was once were massive bridges and a city below. Lupus Sanctauii. A dominant city in its day that rivaled the dwarves advanced smithing and architecture, their might rivaled the orcs, and their numbers silently threatened the oh-so-weak humans. However the day came when an old enemy since the beginning. The Liminias Empire. When Lycarias were brought to the world there came Lycanthropy, which affected the race itself as well, much like rabies. But another race came to be, when Liminias arrived they felt threatened that Lycarias were successful in the world, whereas their violent acts inflicted to their banishment underground by the Old Ones. Since then, they loathed the Lycarias and promised a day when Liminias would wipe out Lycarias. And they held it up well. Rain Dark breathed slowly, trying to get his composure before he could do anything else. After minutes of standing, he walked back into the temple and traveled down a fleet of stairs. The more he looked the more decrepit and ruined the place was. It must have been a hundred years at least, but that never explained the lake in the cave. There are many explanations that could solve that problem, the old bridges that led out were either destroyed or submerged in the lake, and beyond that there was a dim light of a hole. He could only assume that was the entrance to the cave, all the way across the lake. Sighing, Rain Dark reached a circular door at the end of a hall. The door was a solid silver and rusted brown, rust however ruled it's once smooth surface and in its center a shape of a wolf's skull, no bigger than a hand. He was glad the vault was still closed, only he had the key to it around the neck. If anyone was here and they stole whatever was inside Rain Dark would have hunted them down. Eventually. He made his way back up to the main rooms and began to wonder about, investigating the entire temple in its ruin.