Through the endless eternal eons of time, all true things throughout history become forgotten, twisted, lost, or they are used to fulfill the desires of wandering souls seeking their place, their purpose, their elusive meaning. Avara was a world no...
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Vorden examined the hundreds of kennels as he walked. There were a myriad of elemental beasts in various stages of disarray occupying the cells. Hundreds of short, stout, stone elementals worked and walked swift and silent. They were short, blocky and made of rock. Their eyes were dull and their hands were deft. The surface of their bodies were different shades of curved stone. They wore simple, stiff tunics and their feet were flat and bare on the barren finished floor. They industriously worked, moving from cell to cell, mopping blood, cleaning tools, and scrubbing walls. They polished, washed, and stored dregs. The little stone men did a thousand small things, wordlessly. As Vorden walked, they parted, folding their hands across their chest and lowering their heads in a silent obedient servitude.
They were called Crags. They were the perfect acquiescent hand, unique from all other elementals. Once their dreg was extracted they remained alive and beholden to that which possessed it, unlike any other creature which would wither away. They didn't eat, they didn't sleep, they were rock made flesh. They obeyed most commands, however, they would not harm themselves nor others. They would not defend themselves from destruction nor destroy any form of life. If their body was destroyed, they could be regenerated with the power of their dreg. They were docile, lame, their faces were frozen in a frown, and they never spoke, only to comply to commands, or refuse. It had been this way before time immemorable.
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Each kennel had a drain placed in the center of the small cells. Blood slowly trickled from them running slowly downward. An assortment of tubes ran from them as the rolling hum of their breath echoed through the corridor. Many beasts had portions of their exterior cut back, exposing a glowing dreg. The dreg was said to hold the soft, secret, soul of the beast. It was what Runikars, dreg forgers, harvested from the elementals to imbue power into weaponry, armory, and even objects. Elemental dregs were the core foundation of power within Diageonvaeyn, and the ancestors of the Vaeyns were masters of hunting, harvesting, and the process of imbuing them into such objects. Ark'stones were that of legend and most considered a mere myth.
