Dungeon Dilettante
Posts: 1
Joined: Tuesday, 23rd February 2016, 09:24
Tuesday, 23rd February 2016, 09:28
Once upon a time
Once upon a time, there was peace in the world.
It was not a perfect peace. Men fought one another for power and for possessions, as they always do. Wars were won and lost, kingdoms rose and fell -- but the scars men made upon the earth healed in time, and life went on. The world did not seethe with horror, back then.
Certainly, there were whispers of it. Troglodytes uttered fiery curses upon the magic academies; gloompriests rebuked them and pined for the day when the Shadowed would pluck out the flame-tongues of troglodyte and wizard alike. Nemelex's name was heard in the prayers of fortune-tellers; the Black Torch of Yredelemnul was sealed away annually in an elaborate ceremony honoring the Forces of Light.
But the games, the prayers, and the curses were just that -- games, prayers, and curses -- nothing more. Our destinies remained our own; the gods never frayed the fabric of the world to suit a worshipper. There were tales told of a place far away, a place where the gods reigned and worked their terrible miracles with impunity -- but that place was not here.
All of that changed when the ORB was taken from that place.
It was not a perfect peace. Men fought one another for power and for possessions, as they always do. Wars were won and lost, kingdoms rose and fell -- but the scars men made upon the earth healed in time, and life went on. The world did not seethe with horror, back then.
Certainly, there were whispers of it. Troglodytes uttered fiery curses upon the magic academies; gloompriests rebuked them and pined for the day when the Shadowed would pluck out the flame-tongues of troglodyte and wizard alike. Nemelex's name was heard in the prayers of fortune-tellers; the Black Torch of Yredelemnul was sealed away annually in an elaborate ceremony honoring the Forces of Light.
But the games, the prayers, and the curses were just that -- games, prayers, and curses -- nothing more. Our destinies remained our own; the gods never frayed the fabric of the world to suit a worshipper. There were tales told of a place far away, a place where the gods reigned and worked their terrible miracles with impunity -- but that place was not here.
All of that changed when the ORB was taken from that place.
