An excerpt from the ever popular and well read guide. A book that has been read by millions across the nation, its tales of days past never disappoints.
Humans originally came from an entirely different continent by the name of Ahriman*. This was a deadly place to live. Ahriman sat directly on an enormous fault line, which caused almost constant earthquakes. They rocked the country, and its estimated that millions were dying.
So they did the only thing they could do in a situation like this. They ran away. They built enormous ships and gathered people aboard them. And they left.
They never looked back. To those on the small group of vessels, it was better to die on the ocean fighting for your life than to perish while cowering and hiding.
They spent two and a half years at sea. The oceans were dark and dangerous, filled with ruthless denizens of a little known world. The humans encountered one such beast during their first months at sea; they were barraged by a massive sea serpent, which they called The Lynch Eel. During the attacks, two ships were sunk and three more were damaged. That in itself was only one of the beasts that lurked in the watery depths...
However, despite there being several sightings of other strange and wicked creatures in the water, the group of refugees was not attacked again. The crowd was not free of misfortune though. Sickness struck at the worst of times throughout the journey. The lack of nutritious food weakened the people among the ships, and a simple, seemingly harmless illness would spread like a wild fire in dry grass.
Over the course of 13 months, the infected grew to outnumber the able, and the tainted ones were placed on a boat to die. The rest of the fleet left them, and any who couldn't bear to leave the occupants, behind.
The survivors of the plague were few; there were only 796* passengers left out of the several thousand that had begun the journey. Out of the 796, there were 386 women and 410 men.
The last of the humans were giving up hope. The population that the corruption had left behind (whether out of mercy or as a form of torture, they did not know) were deeply depressed. The minuscule amount of food left wouldn't support them for long, and there was no land in sight. They were miserable. Most saw living as a lost cause, and as many 15 people committed suicide together.
Yet the ones who held desperately to their faith cried out to the
Luck Goddess, Pasuri, begging for a miracle. And she mercifully granted them their need.
Two weeks later, as the people gave up on having their desire granted, they caught sight of land. At first, the lookouts thought they were hallucinating, and that the foggy shape in the distance was the beginning of The Madness. But as the landmass solidified and grew on the horizon, they realized that their dream had come true, and their prayers had been answered.
Songs were sung and people made merry and danced. The thought of a close to the ghastly migration thrilled the passengers. There was great rejoicing, and they knew that within a matter of time, they would be standing in their new home.
It took several more hours to actually land on what they had thought to be an island, but as the size of it grew and grew, they found to be a continent. Many grew impatient and weary at the distance that they were crossing so slowly. They were near to their destination, yet so far.
As they neared the shore, the water became crystal clear, and bright reefs shone below them, where exotic fish swam in schools. The caps of the waves were small and frothy; the water was an almost unnatural shade of blue. The survivors were enchanted by the tranquil beauty of the bay. Even in the calmest of water, the open sea hadn't compared to this. The scene was like a painting; snow capped mountains loomed in the distance, white sand merged with turquoise water, and rolling emerald hills sat several feet back from the shore.
The stunned refugees stepped onto the soft sand, and were silent. They had been at sea so long, that they had forgotten what it felt like to stand on dry land. They felt an incredible sense of pride and joy that they had been the ones to live, to survive the journey. At the same time, they felt an overwhelming loss as they recalled all of their loved ones who had been lost on the way here. Tears pricked in their eyes. Their family should be here too, witnessing this beautiful scenery and feeling the cool grains of sand on their toes. But they weren't... And they never would be.
Every person bowed their heads in memory of their lost friends and family. Not a single soul hadn't been affected by the sickness. Everyone had lost someone dear to them. A young man with snowy skin and icy eyes raised his voice in a prayer for the spirits of the dead and begged the Gods to give them good fortune in the after life. He finished with a thanks that those left had survived the harsh trip. All were silent in a moment of reverence to their immortal Gods.
Albert Finch Senior called out while standing from a crouch," Let us make camp on the beach. We can send a small expedition into the hills to look for a more suitable place to stay."
The crowd murmured in agreement, and the men stepped forward to join the exploring team. They left in a hurry, not only wanting to explore their new abode, but to hunt for meat. Meat was a delicacy that they hadn't enjoyed for years, and they hoped to catch some venison to feed the hungry masses. They set off into the hills, hoping to make their wives proud with the prizes they brought back from their search.
With sighs, women boarded the distasteful ship and began unloading valuables and blankets onto the shore. They made haste while putting together the camp, and the few men who had been chosen to guard the ladies watched them with a fierce sense of duty and need to protect them. After all, the women had made it this far, and the men wouldn't let any force on land or sea harm a hair on their heads.
Those left behind began to come out of their forlorn stupor, and many women began to sing. They sang louder and with more vigor with every minute that passed, until every soul on the beach, men included, were filling the air with the sound of their raised voices. Ladies danced with each other, and young maidens teased the guardsmen with winks and sly grins. A bonfire was started in the center of the camp, and golden-yellow embers filled the air. They swirled lazily in the late afternoon sky, and spiraled in couples.
This cheerful attitude continued for several hours, and throughout all of them, the expedition team did not return. As stars awoke from their daytime slumber, wives began to worry for their husbands. The singing continued, but it took on a lilting tone filled with anxiety. Some of the guards began to tell stories, hoping to distract the ladies from their uneasiness.
That was when they heard it; the sounds of horses galloping in the distance. Confusion and fear darkened the hearts of the group gathered on the beach. None of the men who had gone on the expedition had a horse.
Hazy shapes of emerged from misty clouds that had settled on the hills. They approached quickly; with every second they grew in size and clarity. The guards pulled out dull blades and stood in front of he maidens.
"Put your weapons away humans." A voice boomed across the bay.
The women pulled into a tight circle, pushing the youngest in the middle. They looked around suspiciously for the source of the words. The guardsmen lifted their swords higher, ready to attack anything that moved.
"PUT YOUR BLADES DOWN AND KNEEL TO THE EMPRESS!" The voice roared the words, and the sand vibrated. The sentinels reluctantly dropped their blades.
The voice did not speak again, and the people turned their attention to the figures stepping onto the beach.
Five of the humanoids rode on horses, and the rest walked around them.
They were unlike anything the haggard travelers had ever seen. The horses they rode upon were not horses at all, but enormous six-legged creatures that resembled bears. The animals had short fur spotted in whites and reds, except for the largest of the beasts. It's pelt was black ink, without one imperfection.
The creatures had obsidian eyes that glittered with intelligence; it unnerved the humans.
The riders of those bizarre beasts disconcerted the group more than the massive animals. The human-like entities were mesmerizing; they were statuesque and had sloping, delicate looking bodies. Their petite hands and feet were seemed almost disproportionate when compared to their height , and wore simple armor with bows and arrows strung across their back. Their faces were diverse, but captivating in their own way. Not a blemish marked their cheeks; not a scar marked their bodies. Each of them had large pointed ears. The others who traveled on foot wore simple clothing that looked like they were made out of plants.
Behind the newcomers, the exploring team stepped out of the shadows. Albert Finch Sr. was in the lead, and the others followed close behind him. They whispered amongst themselves and cast dark looks towards the riders. Several of them were supporting a stupendous deer-like creature with a large antlers and fangs jutting out of its mouth. It had a bloody hole in its side, where it had probably been shot.
Albert raised his voice to the humans,"Everything is fine, my friends. There is nothing to be afraid of."
The travelers glanced at each other uneasily.
Young Tic Lawrence shouted,"These are the elves! They rule this place and want us to-"
With a wave of her hand, the elve seated on the black creature cut him off. Her clothes were quiet in their grandeur, and her sleeves slid back to reveal swirling crimson birthmarks on her wrists. Her face was hidden by a pale green veil, and honey blonde hair spilled out of the back. She spoke calmly and quietly; yet her voice held unimaginable strength and power that commanded your attention.
"I am the Empress Marigold; I am the ruler of this land. Tis my nation, The Empire of Sylvonna. I feel that in order to let you stay here, I must know if you intend to do harm... I do not sense a darkness in your hearts, but if you hurt a subject of mine, I will not hesitate to put you back on that boat and send you to sea before you can even blink." Her voice became harsh with her last words.
Simon Nee, one of the other men who assisted Albert in decision making, spoke to the his fellow humans.
"My people, we have nothing to fear. These elves just want us to follow their laws that have been in place for centuries. They are not forcing us to go to war or the like. The Empress-," He gestured to her respectfully with a nod of his head,"-just wants us to know that there is already a power in this land. We will obey her commands..."
He gave a pointed stare at the rest of the men gathered behind him, then looked onto the women with slightly more gentle eyes, as if he was pleading them to obey the laws of these strange people.
Ahriman means bad spirit.
I did research and you actually only need about five hundred people to have a large enough gene pool to carry on the human race. Interesting!
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In the end, after much squabbling and pushes from Albert Sr. and Simon (and others who refused to board the wretched ship that they had traveled on), the group of refugees decided to abide by the laws. The elves allowed them to stay, albeit under close observation. A small feast was had that night. It was a bizarre sight, with strange creatures and a pack of ragamuffin travelers celebrating next to one another.
Humans flourished in the land, and good relations were formed with the faerie, halflings, orcs, the occasional dragon, and elves alike. They became accustomed to the odd beasts that inhabited the Empire, and all was well for many years.
Then everything changed. Humans began to resent the elves and the rules they were forced to follow. They began to prepare for a war. The Empress foresaw many years of battles and thousands of human deaths; she tried to soothe the growing tension by speaking with them, but it was to no avail.
A war ensued for many years, and elves tried to harm as few people as possible. There seemed to be no end in sight, and the body count was rising.
Out of nowhere, a hero came along; a hero by the Albert Finch Junior. He was the son of the original Albert Finch, who had been one of the primary leaders during the Great Journey over the Ocean, and had struck a bargain with dwarves that had made his family incredibly rich. His name was well known to humans, and Albert Senior remained active in the affairs of his race as long as he lived.
This onslaught was something that Albert Jr. knew his father would never have supported. His father had been a peaceful man who only fought if the need was dire. So Albert began to speak out against the conflict. His well known family name greatly assisted his anti-hostility rallies,and, over the course of three years, the bloodshed ceased. The pacifism movement had called for peace, and it had all begun with Albert Finch Jr.
The Empress was impressed by his morals (for a human at least) and invited him to the Elven Isles. There, he was treated as an honored guest. Albert was permitted to enter the palace and even the Library of Generations, which held the written history of every moment in Sylvonna.
He was shocked by the elves kindness, and claimed that his actions were "just the right thing to do".
The Empress came to know him as a friend, and after several months of him residing in the Isles, she bestowed upon him a gift for ending the violence that had consumed their country for seven years.
She gave him magic and strength, to protect the peace he had brought for as long as he lived. Not only was this bestowed upon him, but she conjured an enchantment that would include the entire human race. Every time the life of A Guardian of the Peace (later simplified to Guardian) ended, a new Guardian was born. They were each blessed with different powers, a talent specifically tailored to meet the challenges they would face.
Empress Marigold marked him with eyes of differing colors to signify his blessing. Violet, to represent a higher self, fulfillment, and vitality. Coral, to represent courage, balance, and energy.
From that moment on, a Guardian was present in every generation. Unbeknownst to the public, they were trained in the palace, honing in their abilities and awaiting their conflict. For most, their lives were uneventful, with no major battles or beasts to defeat. For a selected few, they had extreme conflicts come up, and brutal battles occurred.
The Guardians, in their own way, had an advantage over the Sovereign Elves; the elves ability to use spells to manipulate and control (though most of the righteous ones refused to even think of using those enchantments) didn't create much trust amongst humans. However, a Guardian being of the same race as a multitude of the subjects made them more willing to listen. It built a loyalty amongst the people; they felt as if they had a say so in their government. This was how life continued for many years; Guardians became diplomatic delegates for their race.
Over thirty-thousands years, the Emperors and Empresses came and went, with a Guardian close at hand. A Guardian of the Peace became more of a political figure, no longer seen as the mighty protector they were originally created to be. For a certain Empress, this greatly distressed her. She felt as if the true purpose of the Guardians had been forgotten; they were being used only to smooth over the occasional squabble a human had with the law. This infuriated the Queen.
After the death of the current Guardian, she did something that shocked the Sovereign Elves. She hid the Guardian. The birth of the next "Protector" was not announced, and the celebration that humans typically held, was cancelled. The country was in a state of confusion. Complaints flooded the Isles, along with infuriated visitors coming to rant about the money they had lost on party decorations.
However, despite the unrest, the Guardian was not exposed. Instead, they were raised far from prying eyes, and were taught the ways of ancient times. As this "Mystery Guardian" reached adulthood, they were integrated into society bit by bit, visiting the populated city-bridge connecting the exclusive Isles and Masstropolis East. It was there that the Guardian fell in love with a beautiful fiery-haired young woman who had migrated from a northern village looking for opportunities. Her pale skin and bright blue eyes instantly drew him in, and he knew that it was meant to be.
Several months later, after a speedy marriage ceremony, he and his bride moved far from the disapproving eyes that had raised him to be a "perfect child". They began a new life in busy Masstropolis West, where they hoped to disappear amongst the multitude of people, orcs, and halflings. They moved to Level 3 , where they would neither be rich nor poor, but live an average existence.
Unfortunately, their appearance made the pair stand out, and caught the attention of a Rebel group, and the Guardian, his identity unbeknownst to the gunman, and his existence, destined for good, came to an abrupt and untimely end.
In his wake Guardian Thomas left behind a wife and daughter- and another Guardian of the Peace.