Long ago the universe trembled with vibration. From the minerals that fell into form arose a creature of unlimited strength. A being who harnessed skill from the tablets of craft. He took rolling form, a form of gelatin that oozed across the spindle of time. The being was named Ghinostratus and he crafted ore from the very fabric of time. From this ore he created a bowl of cosmic energy and slowly bent it in the heat of the newly created cosmos in the heat of gravity. Ghinostratus was born of and ingot himself, a ingot of soul energy. One does not try and explain, neither do they try to understand. On his skin is etched a language that sings to the stars. A language that cannot be undone. Ghino abides by the etchings and from this he learned to create space. From this he gave form to galaxies that float across the Alltree’s many dimensions. The language empowered Ghino and taught him how to create planets and how to create stars. However Ghino became so skilled and so power full he soon began to lose control. His mind fell asunder and no longer could he use his hands to craft. His hands could bend any material in the universe. But now power corrupted him and his hands became useless. In his final seconds before his skill abandoned him he created a hammer and a vice. Tools of which he could teach others how to use. Tools that would resemble his divine hands that dwindled away. Seconds before Ghino fell to the cosmos he gazed upon space. With a smile and his last ounce of power he created the GhinoKynn. Ghino spoke the language onto the hammer and vice, tools that would teach their own lessons. As Ghino fell to death he left an anchor of power, a spot of immense heat greater than any star. The first of the GhinoKynn looked upon the vice and it read Drwavosgrad, in the cosmic tongue it meant “Fall upon me power of light.” And they called themselves the Cosmic Dwarves and gifted newly created worlds with divine prowess.
…In the tombs far from the world they lay ready to be awakened…in the shadow of the hidden dragon city…surrounded by the dead High Kings of old…
“It is time to awaken, your purpose is soon to be fulfilled. Awaken and set time in motion allow the universe to set in. Allow time to flow and create what I have tasked you to create. If only for a second you could think back, think back to the worlds you saved. Do you remember the way they felt, they were young, they were warm. Even in the darkest reaches of Remerex you could feel the warmth. On Adran when the world seemed dark and the odds against you, you still felt warmth. Need I remind you of what has been consistent. Do you remember the boy who helped you escape that shanty town, when all was lost but all had just begun. Do remember that young boy who showed you the way when you ran from Creed, do you remember the warmth of the trees on the shadow planet of Remerex. Do you remember the warmth that lay deep within Hadrian. This is the time, to set all straight. Help them, fight the battles you fought. Help them fight the struggle, do you remember defeat, do you remember the blood, those who died as you lived on. Do you remember your dreams, the dreams after all had been done you still were able to live out happily. It has been a very long age since then. I know awaken you in a time were peace is all that abounds. From your slumber you must wake, twenty thousand years have passed in your time slumber. But now balance is set straight. The planets fight for balance but nothing more. The events of my death will now come to close. So long have you waited my friends. Go to my Avalon. The keys have been set straight all is as it should be. Do not interfere as I did, guidance is not necessary the plot will be revealed as it has been foretold. Piece by piece they will discover what is to unfold. Each of my worlds as infinite as they may be has been balanced, now one remains. My hope and my will, my New Avalon. The tomb in which you lay are the children of my mortal body each with their own piece each with there own puzzle. The high kings are my blood, my children. And their swords carry out my will, to rule. One thing remains as their Testimate rises to power, the third heaven the sealing stone. My task for you is create a body anew. Find my Lazuri, find my Dragons, and together you will create a body of dreams a body a pure hope, pure light and pure darkness. Through them I will awaken, and return to my universe pure, no longer tainted by the universe long ago. Did I not tell you I would be with you always, death has been subdued. And I will over come. The point to this is that there were dreamers in the beginning and then you came along, you were the dreamers wedged in the middle. And now you will raise the dreamers that will be the end. A story needs all three parts to be perfect. So finish my story. Bend good and evil, time and emptiness. And soon we will open my castle doors and eat until the stars end. I call upon you my heroes. My Amgis and Sigma, my Gavin and Renzaar. I call upon my Knights of Avalon. And all will take part in the peace that I have dreamed of and I will be mortal to enjoy all the treasures and love we have sewn through this universe. All of my dreamers and all of my friends. I will meet one on one in a way I never have. To stand next to you, Kaigo, Zenn, and the rest. Will be something I have waited for, for since I was created.
The prophecy written in silver, written in the dust of the ashen tree. From the angelic ages of rebirth came the mortal races and their fiendish kings and queens. But all were subdued by dragon fire. Until the dark ages when the armies of the nether besieged all. The three Star kings descended upon us. And from these the first patrons of the elder God would spawn. And from this creation the worlds would be forged by hope and salvation, emotion and love. And in thus the accords were proclaimed that all would follow the ingots of the Alltree. And in the following millennium a war of time will fall upon the universe and from this the tablets of the cosmos would come and awaken while the sons and daughters of the universe align to summon the Etyernal Fire. Forged in chaos. In the return of the one final revelation the four worlds will align and the tree of soul silver will reach far across the realms. And when peace is forever restored the multiverse will fall into a great ice, and the hailstone will reign supreme when death takes his throne.
Sonorous Aubade “Deep with the Suns Daybreak”
At its core a colossal Stone citadel sits atop a mountain composed purely of blue dirt and small polished river stones that resonate sound. From the depths of the great mountain, water runs down the mountain side. Large amber fields run parallel to the mountain sides making for a brilliant view from the citadel.
The citadel is made of ivory and marble, decorated with pillars of jade and light blue opals. Streets of shanty stones run through the passage ways and corridors. The walls are adorned with exotic mushrooms and ivy. The roofs are made of light Crimson wood and earthy stone. Across the the citadel can be found many torches and sconces made of the surrounding crustaceans. The citadel constantly changes depending on the time of day and time of night. The streets are decorated with the belongings of those who live there. The shops are bustling and the people are happy, plump, and witty. The houses are adorned with high end furniture and the greatest of amenities for even the most lavish lifestyles and hobbies. The citadel always smells of drying herbs and the fresh smell of rain and sunshine. The smell of fresh bread and flowers linger in the air. Strange and magical trees run down from the stone of the building and roads bearing beautiful fruits. The base of of the citadel is surrounded by windmills and vineyards in all directions crawling down the mountain.
Surrounding the mountain is a vast ocean filled with pure and transparent waters. Never restless but always powerful. The waves raid the shores of the mountains very bottom. Upon the shores are pure white and green sands that never collect the rays of the Suns and are always as cool as the waters themselves. The oceans give life to vibrant coral reefs and exotic fish and enormous creatures that rule the depths. The bottoms of the oceans are covered in star light that emanates from the large crack that tear through the crust if this plane. Sea faring villages have made the islands that surround the mountain their home. The oceans reach as far as any would dare travel but at the end of its grasp lay wild and endless misty jungles that hold treasure and scientific ruins.
The sky of this great realm is saturated with stars, because promises must be kept. The stars can be dabbed into a paint brush.
The realms creatures are strange but happy folk, unnatural in form but intelligent and mystical. They inhabit large crystals that jut out from the depths of the sea. They are true beings of sound.
From inside he great hall of the citadel stands a great table. From the table the powers of creation can be depicted by various images. The powers can be siphoned from the table of life and thus the blank tablet of a universe will appear for whoso ever wishes to make one anew. At the tables center is an indent for an orb. Guarded by colossal wolf statues at its end.
This palace holds the center to breaking the eternal ice.
Long before the foundations of the massive hall were laid down. Something far more powerful was built in the realm of ascention were the god of gods sits. A ooze of shadow was created by this said god. In the ooze lay fonts of emptiness waiting to be filled. These fonts were attached by cords of divine fluids and energy. Attached to the Alltree itself the energy, mana, ki, magic, spiritual energy, and blood from the father of trees, king of the cosmos, ran through the ooze penetrating it and giving it life. Inside the ooze other dimensions existed dimensions where time and age never existed. The language of these oozes was without words or noise. Without concept and knowledge of death. For death does not dwell there. It is a gift from the Alltree a pact written in the stars that death will never come. Never introduce itself. In time the oozes stayed empty. The god who sat on the throne built walled dimensions around the oozes and built obsidian pyramids around them and formed them into a dimensional prism that refracted time and space, sounds and chaos. These laid the foundations for the Free Hall. Where the walls were built of frozen dragon blood. Coated in crystallized cosmic dust. The spires where built from ancient cosmic whale and behemoth tusks. It is grand and mighty. But above the door there was a wooden plaque that says all who come here are truly “free”. Inside the majestic building hallways bend and twist and take the form of otherworldly taverns and mead halls. Here the heroes of all time laugh together with their nemesis. Here good and evil mean the same things. All races, all kinds, all times are welcome where for all time the fonts soak up the laughter and the stories and disperse them across the cosmic sea like spores across a meadow. Some would say they are reflections of the happy times. Light that travels carrying laughter when death and shadow are heavy.
In a world where the most strange of things happen, there is a plane that lay above it with even stranger mysteries. The plane of elements lay nestled under the wings of the Empyrean Dome it glistened in its wings against the back drop of the anti-matter. And all expanding universe lay beyond but the elemental realm keeps Avalon in line and safe from cosmic forces. Each plane has a protector, a curator of domains that exist within the four elements.
Father Earth is a king of stone, a sage of wisdom, and bender of that which cannot be bent. He sits upon a stone tree inside a great temple that sits in a barren landscape that gives way to floating pyramids. He is ruler of all his domain, creating strange mountain ranges and kingdoms of earth and metal. In time he has become the crafter of seeds that he tends to in large and lustrous gardens. Occasionally sprinkling them down to the mortal plane. When he walks the metal from the earth arises to meet him and when he touches it it becomes animated giving it life and purpose. Where they burrow into the dirt and jump high into the sky where they become the clouds.
This becomes the plane of air and the plane of water. Here twins sisters hold domain. The queens of rain and wind. They are adorned with gowns of water and air. Their wrath brings storms and tornadoes. Tsunamis and hail, but they are also gentle and bring the rain and through the rain and the wind they move the seeds and water the seeds giving them life to prosper in the world above and below. When seeds fall and become watered traveling on the wind they then reach high to the sunlight. Where they worship the elemental realm of fire.
Here where the heat is eternal, the fire lord raises his children, sprites who represent gases and super heated elements. Here the metal mealts and all is burnt to ash. But here all is given life. Flower beds that reach into the infinite are ablaze but render to heat. You will be guided to the sky kingdoms that lay nestled in the starlight of the moon and sun. Here the skies meet you and you meet the sky in the realms and cities of the unknown and ever brightness. Here the fire lord destroys and rejuvenates. Giving life to all, putting and end to the elements and giving life to them.
No elemental curator is stronger than the other, none of them would exist without the others in a sense they are one being separated to complete many tasks.
Thyren was born into the world with an elf as a father and a human as a mother. By the time the third Great War had reared its head. Thyren was the age of eight. His mother often seemed worried about the war with the Necromancer and the armies to the north that blanketed the world in darkness. But his father Thrycen always would assure her that the city had stood strong since time immemorial. The walls had survived chaos, storms, even wars between the powerful wizards of the ancient days. The great city would never fall.
But news spread quickly that the high king who had lived over a thousand years had been slain by the Necromancer himself. Rumor had also spread that alliances had been made in the west and there had been a group of people gathered together to defeat the Necromancer. traveling across the world to gather what was left of the armies that were hidden away.
Nonetheless it was evident the war had ended after 3 years. Another calamity ended. And now the Necromancer had been sealed away by some powerful force of magic.
But for Thyren and his family it would be a life changing experience. As the final battle took place to defend the city. Which took place weeks after the Necromancer was defeated. The civilians were moved out of their homes into the farming villages and plantations that were scattered around Middlegate. There life was different they watch as legions pulled together and marched across the tattered landscape. They were wealthy in the old city but wealth meant nothing here only hard work and skill. His father was one of the last Elven blacksmiths the world would ever see, most of his kind had retreated from this world. Hidden themselves away in other dimensions or built cities hidden in illusion magic. We can see why. The world had made a turn for the worst. Three great Wars stacked upon each other who’s to say there wouldn’t be a fourth or fifth until the mortal world fell to complete darkness. So the Plee family went on with there lives Thyren’s mom helped with the cooking in the mead hall and the sewing of clothes, and even worked in the hall of remorse where Thyren’s father said she found religion. His father on the other hand joined up with the local blacksmith and together they repaired weaponry and armor even made New and better weapons for the passing legions who would go on to fight for the capital city. And Thyren watched as his family turned from a noble class to hard workers who supported the cause, who had dreams of one day returning to the city. His mother and father would come home to there portion of the barn and would be covered in mud and soot, their hands broken and cracked. They no longer wore rings on each finger, or garbs of material from far away. They wore what peasants wore. The weird thing was, they seemed happy and in turn it made Thyren happy. His parents fell even deeper in love and they showed him what it meant to work hard. They taught him strength and skill.
And one day it was cleared that they could return to the city. And with a heartfelt goodbye they left back to Stonevale the capital city.
In the coming years Thyren’s father helped rebuild the walls to their former glory. Spent his own money on bringing up the lower class. And opened schools across the city for education. And his mother became a priestess of Pantheon the god of knowledge and skill craft.
But the little boy Thyren grew up in a world that was being rebuilt and reformed old gods became prevelant again. Cities that burned down years ago were reborn. Families brought back together. Trade routes were established all around the world and an allegiance between the great nations was established. Thyren went on to serve as a dimplomat. Eventually long after his mother and father died he became The leader of said group and reformed it into the greatest humanitarian effort the world had ever seen. Eventually forming into a sacred alliance known as the…
Some say no one being can truly create and curate a multiverse. In respects to this it’s only partly true. The Alltree spurred from its heart and being liquids that would forge itself into many different trees that would govern law and balance. In tandem five tablets were created were law was recorded. Each tablet held paralleled knowledge about the multiverse. Knowledge that was beyond magic or the elements. Knowledge of the building blocks of life and all creation. But the trees reached immense size as they expressed the universe leaving imprints of themselves across all dimensions and universes. Singularities that would bring all to a point back to the Alltree that all spawned from. Each of the trees were unique harboring their own domains.
In every story there is a beginning. Some sort of chaos that turns into creation. Mine starts in the belly of a tree, a tree not so much physically but metaphorically. A tree that gave it’s being to create a universe and in turn became a true tree tangeable and as expansive as the infinite bounds of creation. From the chaos formed a cosmic sludge that formed itself into tendrils of life and death…
The market sits quietly awaiting the first sounds of the crowd. Slowly the sun rises against the old stone walls playing tricks in the mist to the guards high above. In all directions green flowing plains stretch out to the horizon. To the east the mighty and true, battered coasts of Castle Rock. To the west stand tall and proud the brothers of stone and ore.
But here in the great city of Stonevale the shops are just opening. The weary eyes of their owners trace their fingers unlocking the doors for customers to enter. From ale and wheat, to toys and lumber the great city has it all. The market has gone from silence to a cheerful roar. The bards begin to set up instruments of granduer never to be seen else where in all of the world.
The market stalls filled to the brim with plump and ripe fruit. The blacksmith with his weapons and armor for the children to admire. In the courtyard of the ancient trees the monk from the temple trains deligently setting example of the gods and of his majesty.
Today the sun shines brightly, today the world is good.