Monday, April 18, 2011

Eecho's View of War

Eecho the Death Priest approaches the holy shrine atop the mount of balance. Setting down a few empty bottles of poison, he sighs. Kneeling down he begins his prayer. First taking a tiny dagger he offers a few drops of blood as a holy sacrifice for Calypso and Melek.
"Dearest Mother Calypso, sweet Queen of Chaos...I have done as you have requested. I have spoken what you have asked me to say. My lover, my god Melek, god of death and an end to life that they may be reborn into chaos...soon your offering will pile as high as the sky. I am Discord and War. Let it begin now."
Eecho pulls out a whip bound with the holy thorns of Calypso and whips it into his skin again and again. Finally he cries out collapsing into unconsciousness to be held by his sweet goddess once again.

Welcome to the Torgan Empire!

No one talks of Torgan origins. Those who know keep silent whispering words that it is better to keep the past in the past. The Torgan Empire is made up of two countries. Taure Ru is a country known for its beauty and untamed spirit. Black Isle (Spirit Dancers) is a land of order and dark decadence. We are a dark medieval fantasy role play sim. The lands grow wild in some parts and others portray a dark decadence of those with a chaotic or darker disposition. From knights to assassins, queens to dancers we offer a variety of roles for those who role play here. Taure Ru is led by the dual Kings Grotch "Zig" Qarnac and Eecho Rotaru.

To join in role play, combat or become a citizen here you should submit a character card and have it approved prior to participating in any combat or larger role plays. Submit character cards to Eecho Rotaru, Freya Kirax, Grotch Qarnac or Lexie Lukas.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

The Confrontation

Eecho Rotaru looks out from the decaying castle over the forest. "Mother Goddess of the earth we walk on, what has happened? My body is exhausted from a night of wrestling, facing the witch and her Baba Yaga goddess." Eecho releases an exhausted sigh, looks on his dirty clothing and descends the stairs to the scribery table to journal what has just happened lest he fall asleep and lose some of these memories.

Eecho begins to write:
Upon receiving the witch's curse, I felt my body age, shrink, and be filled with the pains of the elderly. My mind turned against me, memories lost. My tongue rambled on about nothing. I knew I must find a way free of this curse, before it took the rest of me and I lie in the earth's deep embrace.

I immediately dispatched certain loyal fae to find where the woman was staying. Thankfully after a day spent searching, they located an old rotting shack where she was residing. Upon hearing the news, I gathered some herbs and stones, creating a small charm bag to protect me from any spells against my mind. I asked one of our healers for a treatment, that I may regain at least a small portion of vigor, as I suspected this encounter may end badly-for her or me I did not know. The elf Lexie, herself not wholly unfamiliar with dark arts spoke to me of various things she may try, and ways she might keep my youth bound, so I knew what to look for. With a prayer and a bit of sorrow, I departed to her shack, not knowing if I would return.

I arrived as she was stoking an outdoor fire of some meat. She laughed at my state and made a mockery of my appearance, but this time I would not allow her in my mind, though I felt her try to push in. "I have come to honor my part of our deal." I spoke to her with enough venom to kill a lesser race. She smiled as if she were expecting this and invited me in. As soon as I entered her residence, a coldness filled the room hiding the smell of rot and decay, probably the product of one of her nefarious spells. "So", she cackled, "You have come to give me a place in your court?" I replied, "If it is your wish, I will have a place for you in our clan, provided you release me from this spell." She went to gather her ingredients and that was when I saw it in her cabinet. The hourglass, Lexie had spoken of. She had told me that many witches use it to hold a persons youth, or to twist their age.

I ran at the witch and grabbed the hourglass hitting her on the head with it. She reared up and called upon her dark goddess Baba Yaga. The shadows in the room began to swirl around me. I heard the sound of laughter, screams, and cries all at once. She tugged at the hourglass, but I held fast, though I could feel my strength fading. She changed her tactic and instead of pulling, she pushed me backwards. I fell feeling my hip break upon the fall.

She immediately cast a circle round about my old shriveled body. My heart was pounding and I thought that perhaps she would have me die within its bounds. I dug my hands into the soil of Aryador taking in its rich smell not knowing if this would be my body's last sensation. Then I saw it. The small hourglass we both had dropped, had fallen within the circle. I grabbed it and busted it with the butt of my dagger, the sands whipping around wildly. Then I felt body restoring to my young upright body, healing all the pains and breaks that racked it. Flooded with energy, I invoked the elements. I chanted the words to draw the winds and the rain and it howled and beat upon the house. I called up vines to bind her, quickly they gagged her mouth and held her firm. I fled home and quickly asked my advisor to dispatch those who are trained in such things, to "take care" of the situation. So I must sleep now. The worst is over I hope. I have my youthful body back, and full control of my mind and body.

The Curse of the Hedgewitch

Well my sins have found me out. I might as well tell the story here lest any of my elven brethren make a similar mistake. I have a confession to make. I caused the war that destroyed our forests. I am responsible for my father's death. I now bear the curse for my pride and sins.

While still living in the beautiful forests of my homeland with my father,I kept hearing from the people of my beauty and how I would make a fantastic successor to my father someday. The idea went to my head, I must admit. I visited a local hedgewitch who maintained a little cottage in our lands. She smelled of patchouli and mint. I asked her for a potion or spell that would speed my ascent to the throne. I was thinking maybe my father would take ill or senile and I would take my rightful place. The witch asked what I intended to pay. I offered her gold and jewels. She wanted none of that but asked only for an esteemed position in my court when I take throne. I eagerly agreed thinking she wanted a title and little more. She cast a circle with me in it. She spoke some words in a language I did not understand and chanted her spell. She gave me a vile potion to drink, and in my greed I did what I was told, and promptly drank.

I woke up the next morning in my bed. I was awakened to screams, as the orc hoardes had invaded and were burning the forest. In the coming months of battle, my father was found dead, a dagger through his heart. I gathered what was left our our Aborean Clan and fled to the forests of Aryador, hoping to rebuild....until yesterday.

The old witch showed up at my door, congratulating me on my leadership to the throne. She asked for her payment. I promptly refused. I did not ask for the destruction of our forests, or the death of my father and family. But upon my refusal, I suffered her curse. I am shamed by it and my sins. That I would be the first of my kind to look their feel its pangs in body and mind. That I might be a living reminder to never cross a witch again. I see her now...she is staying in the forest... watching offering herbs and remedies to those who will pay. While my heart hardens, and my beauty has faded...I sit in the foyer and weep for my sins...and my pride.

The Falling of the Hive

The Elven Goddess, Angharradh, looked down to see her moon elf, Lord the Clan of Aborea fall in battle. Her hopes were on him to raise up the banner of the Forest Clan Aborea in Aryador, shining its light. Now he lay dead. But she had a plan that would rid some of the plague of hate in Aryador and raise up new elves and forest folk for a better cause than evil.

Unbeknownst to him, Angharradh softened the Unseelie Eecho's heart through the Somata fruit of Taure Emata. The more he ate, the more happy and loving he became. Finally after a feast of Somata with the Hive, having even invited Kaelen the drow, they professed their caring for one another. One fae even said, "We care even for the drow elf, Kaelen." All heartily assented. The evil Goddess of the Hive was outraged. She appeared before those that were present and cursed them thusly, "You love the elves so much? Then why don't you become like those sickening creatures!" And so some were turned into elves. She turned to Eecho and thrust an arrow into his heart and watched him gasp for breath. She leaned in and whispered, "This is the end of the Hive....and of you Eecho of the Unseelie." She deserted the Hive never to retrun and all the plants inside it dried up and turned to dust. Angharradh came to Eecho as he was breathing his last, and offered to take his spirit, and place it in the fallen moon elf....but only if he release most of his memories of being a fae, and he embrace those of the elf. Eecho, greedy for life, agreed. At that moment, the moon elf awakened restored...with new fae and elves former Hive members added to the already existing Clan of Aborea. Thus ends the saga of the Hive and the Unseelie Court in Aryador, and begins a new dawn of the Clan of Aborea.

Eecho's Journal Entry

17 June

We have made it to the famed forests of Aryador earlier in the week. We were attacked along the way and lost a few more members of our clan. As the Fates would have it, I have come across some fae folk of some clan that suffered a tragedy, including the loss of their king who enjoyed the same name as I. Those fae folk have joined our clan, and while some seems angry and grieving...I am sure they will come around, after the pain subsides.

I feel like I am floundering here. I miss my father. There will never be another king like Lord Elpaph, in the Aborean Clan or elsewhere! If only we had been better prepared when the hoardes attacked our forest...then he would have never been killed, I never would have had to lead, and we would not have needed to move to these forests. But enough of the sadness.

We cut down from the dead trees, and gather stones to build a habitation. For now we have taken up residence in a small tower surrounded by swamp. Many are gathering berries, fruits, and herbs for food and salves.

I pray the Triple Goddess will bless our works here.

Eecho Rotaru
Chieften of the Aborean Clan of Aryador

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

An elder Djinn struggles with change...

Taure Emata had been sealed off from the rest of the world for as long as Eruadan could remember. The previous Ashera had lived a long time, indeed, and instilled a distrust of others into His people. The outside world had needless wars and was filled with races unworthy of the knowledge the Djinn kept guarded deep within their dark caverns. The Ashera had allowed very few who found their way through the desert to find sanctuary within the hidden green paradise. Some who did find their way often wrote of the Djinn garden, believing it to be the long-lost Eden, though the Djinn would smirk at the inklings of other religions.

Raised under such a xenophobic belief system, Eruadan found it difficult to know how to deal with the young Ashera Kielan's progressive ruling style. Their world had been opened up to embrace the strengths of other races when, in the past, they would have seen others as valuable for enslavement. Eruadan would not deny the usefulness of the others, but the elder warriors of centuries past taught their fighters to be wary of the advancements of others for there was much for the Djinn to protect. In some cases, there was much for a single Djinn to lose.

Eruadan knew better than to cross the Ashera. An example had been made before and all young Djinn learned early on of the curses that a spiteful Ashera would cast upon a disloyal subject. The tale of the renounced Air Djinn haunted Eruadan and ever-reminded him to stay true to his Warrior's Oath and uphold the Ashera's Will without question. As an elder, he would serve as counsel to the young Ashera, but he remained mindful of his position. Advise, but never command. Guide, but never lead. Caution, but never lecture. Always follow the Nomos (Ashera's Will).

The old Ashera locked the Djinn away from the rest of the world and the new Ashera retrieved the key. Erudan asks himself which Ashera is right. Though it is difficult to ignore ones upbringing and the teachings of old, the warrior is sworn to the Nomos. Though he is leery of those who come from beyond the sands and waters of Taura Emata, he will do as he is commanded and step outside the cave.