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 Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories

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PostSubject: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   15th September 2007, 11:06

The beggining of Lightwarriors

"A long time ago in the Island of Portania, a small merchants island in the Tagide Sea, a series of frightful events took place.

Pirates and diabolical creatures united amongst themselves trying to invade the entire island, spreading death and mayhem along their evil path of destruction and thievery.

When finally the invasion came to an end, a small group of survivors from Mercator, a small village to the south, gathered to find all survivors and try to re-organize the island.

For several years, they struggled to bring joy and wealth back to the island. When they finally accomplished their goal, their minds drifted away from the despair they previously felt to a small but ever growing longing for vengeance. It was then that the island's leader, a brave warrior and skilled merchant by the name of Ferno Light, ordered for a guild to be gathered among warriors and merchants to travel throughout Euron, fighting the forces of evil, as well as teach and put to good use all their skills learned over the years.

That guild would be given the name Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship. Rifts Marines was given the leadership, and when he and his loyal friends, Lorg, Nuno, Talakir, Legolas and Holy, left their island seeking vengeance they hoped for a better world, free of evil. Their destination was Colania, and their goal was to fight darkness and to meet new partners willing to walk the same path. "

Last edited by on 17th October 2007, 04:12; edited 2 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   12th October 2007, 04:22

Rifts Marines

"Rifts Marines born in the Island of Portania, a merchant island in the Tagides Sea.
Rifts grow up following the father (Great Druid of Portania) to Deeper Wood, a place where humans and elves live together and is easy to see druids with rangers teaching their knowledge to newcomers and some habitants of other towns of Portania. Rifts it was one of them, there he learned how to be a ranger, training day by day...
Until the unexpected....

Attack to Portania … come
Rifts had only 9 years, and it was preparing the bag to go to Deeper Wood, when he heard screams coming from outside of the house:
“Pirates .... Pirates”, “We go die.... Evil is coming to us...”
Rifts run to advise mother, she become really scared... Go to the window, take a look... and say:
“Oh *crying* my dear son... what he do now?.... Your father is in the city with Ferno. He can’t help us...” *Looks like crazy*
The screams continue outside of the house, and is possible to hear that some combats are happening. Rifts mother quicky put him in a little hide trapfloor, where normally is the place to put some sacks... Some minutes pass and Rifts heard someone smashing the door, and...:
“Don’t kill me.. Don’t kill.....argh *scream of pain*”
Next the silent appear.....
In that day lots of people died, most of the houses are destroyed and all the products, food and weapons have been stolen...
With the end of the invasion a small group of survivors from Mercator, a small village to the south, gathered to find all survivors and try to re-organize the island.

When they finally accomplished their goal, their minds drifted away from the despair they previously felt to a small but ever growing longing for vengeance. It was then that the island's leader, Ferno Light, ordered for a guild to be gathered among warriors and merchants to travel throughout the world of Euron, fighting the forces of evil, as well as teach and put to good use all their skills learned over the years. That guild would be given the name Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship. Rifts Marines was given the leadership (he have now 21 years... And the last 5 years he passed training in the Barracks of Relboa).
Lightwarrios destination was Colania, and their goal was to fight darkness and to meet new partners willing to walk the same path.

After some years of working in their goals Lightwarriors bought their first house in the white city of Astoria. And Rifts still continue leading LW. Some of the initial members disappear, new ones appear... But Lightwarriors continue alive.
Rifts grow up with LW, and LW grow up with Rifts... Together they passed good times, and in some briefly moments bad times too, but never forgot their goals.
After some time LW constructed a second house in Southern Lands, near Port Kalan. There they created the first Crafting School of Lightwarriors, one of the “dreams” of Ferno...

Again... One catastrophe appear in the live of Rifts. An huge earthquake, destroyed Euron. The LW houses disappear, some of the members died, the lands don't are the same... but Rifts survive, very weak and wounded he appear near in the Great Desert...
He looks confused... he will have to learn all again? How will be the future now? Who knows...?"
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   12th October 2007, 04:25

Valistar Aluvatar

"The rumors had reached the town of Talenor, a metropolis located on the distant shores, beyond the Great Sea. Sailors from the sea brought with them stories about the western skies being ablaze, lightning thundering in the night, and mountains torn asunder. They told about hell itself, ascending to the surface… the day of reckoning was near! These rumors spread like wildfire among the citizens, and even though many people did not take it for more than the stories of drunken sailors, it enshrouded the community in a gloomy atmosphere. Could this be true…?

Shady figures walked the streets… monotonously the church bell rang its sad ring… the crescent moon dispatched beams of cold light through the scattered clouds. They were all summoned. In the cover of night the High Council gathered. Underneath arcs of massive stone pillars, in the flickering of candle light they met, with only one point on the agenda. The rumors from the sea! Some of the elders of the wizard’s conclave claimed to have foreseen this. This matter could not be repudiated. In the majestic halls of the temple the discussion began. It was long and intense, and first as dawn rose a solution had been made.
Three emissaries were to journey to these lands to investigate this alleged pandemonium…

The firstborn son of Ahriman Aluvatar, a member of the High Council, was to be one of those emissaries. Valistar Aluvatar, descendant of a long line of holy warriors, had this task laid upon him. He was one of the three that was deemed most fit for the task. He was devoted to his God, almost zealous, and his skills with a sword were above average. Unlike his paladin father he was more devoted to the temple than to his sword. He was one of the highest ranking clerics of the order, and his skills would come in handy when they embarked on a mission like the one that lay ahead. A mission that was appointed to him and a mission he accepted it without hesitation. He wanted to make, not only his father, but also his order proud of him.

The two companions that were appointed were Gabriel Lysander, a fellow cleric of the order, and Cervantes Mourngrym, a very dedicated paladin and friend of Ahriman. Cervantes was to lead the expedition, being the oldest and most experienced. Furthermore a paladin who had shown his valor again and again when the situation looked grim.

The very same night they all met in secrecy in the docks of Talenor. A boat had been arranged for them. After spending all day preparing for the long journey across the Great Sea, they were now ready. Late at night, under a clear sky, the Rising Phoenix set sails and headed west…

For two weeks they sailed, completely under the mercy of the elements. For two weeks they sailed toward distant shores. But as they sailed across the sea Valistar became increasingly uncomfortable. He started to have nightmares. He could not put his finger on what was happening, but he felt increasingly lost…abandoned. Eventually he realized what was happening… his God! The further he came from home the more distant his God seemed. Realizing this fact Valistar descended into despair and fear. Would his God really leave him if he traveled to far away from home…? But sure enough, he was fading!

The sea was benevolent… or so it seemed. On the 17th day a cloudburst erupted. Dark clouds gathered, lighting flashed across the skies. A ferocious storm arose, blowing the ship across the waves with intensive wrath. It seemed endless. The passengers struggled for their lives, struggled to stay on board. But alas, near a shore the ship crashed into several pointy cliffs, protruding from the water… Cervantes was cast overboard! Massive amounts of water flooded the wrecked ship. Valistar and Gabriel clung to their lives.
The Rising Phoenix was nothing but wreckage, a watery tomb. The captain, the cooks, the servants… no one was to see, all gone! Only the yelling between Valistar and Gabriel penetrated to deafening roars of the storm. A miracle had to happen…
…but no miracle happened. All faded into darkness. Cold pitch black darkness! Valistar descended into the abyss. Like a nightmare, falling through darkness. Weightless, just falling…

But suddenly he saw a beam of light within all this darkness. The beam started to glow intense, now forming an orb. It started to increase in size, glowing brighter and brighter. After a while he found himself completely enshrouded in piecing white light. No more darkness, only pure white light and to his great surprise the light started to speak. It talked to him… just like his old God used to do. It spoke in a noble yet stern voice. It addressed itself as Praion. The voice filled him with joy and happiness. He felt warm and secure. The light told him to embrace the light… to embrace the light of Praion.

“Step into the light!”

He woke up, and the strong rays of the sun penetrated his eyes. The voice still ringing in his head:

“Embrace the light of Praion, step into the light!”

The sun shone merciless from a clear sky, and it brought warmth to his cold body. With great effort he stood up and saw a vast desert, stretching all the way to the horizon. All he could see was barren desert. Sand as far he could see, but wait… Gabriel! A little distance away Gabriel lay on the shore. He was alive;… he had made it too. Valistar woke him up, and when their eyes met they knew that the same thing had happened to both of them. Praion had spoken to them… There they were, standing side by side, gazing across a vast desert… But that did not discourage them. They had found new faith; they now knew that they had a guardian angle. So they set off with what little provision that had drifted ashore…

For three days they wandered under the burning desert sun. On the forth day the water supplies ran out, and the food was scarce. But their hope remained, there was no despair… and on the evening of the forth day, to the north, they saw something that looked like a city. A city in the desert! At first they just thought that it was yet another fata morgana, so they just kept walking… but then He started to speak again. Praion spoke to them, now louder and clearer than before:

“Eyes can be deceitful, do not be fooled, the path is obvious!”

They agreed that it had been weird that both of them had seen the same mirage, so they decided to head north.

Accompanied by the morning sun they reached the gates of the desert city, Tellasos.
They headed for the city’s temple right away, and to they dismay it was almost nothing but ruins, desecrated! Once inside they saw hundreds of injured and sick people… nothing but misery and agony. The clerics in the temple welcomed them and beckoned them to help. Valistar and Gabriel accepted without hesitation. They did all they could to help out, and they discovered that the more people who recovered, the more skilled they became in healing.
Praion began to bless them with his powers… and they accepted it, since their old God apparently had no influence here. But strange it was that Praion’s entity felt exactly like the one of their old God! Yet they were not the same… or were they?

A dark and clear night Valistar walked in the once mighty halls of the temple, looking at the stars. He tried to scrutinize all the constellations, were there any message written in them? When Praion spoke he often spoke in riddles, had he written something in the stars? A sign or an omen perhaps…? But his reflections were abruptly ended by noise from the supply room. No one cooked at that time of night, so he approached with caution. He was armed with nothing but his ceremonial dagger but he decided not to summon the other clerics yet. It was probably nothing.
The entire place was guarded. He assumed that it was a fellow cleric that was hungry, but when he slowly opened the door he saw a stranger. The stranger sensed his presence immediately and prepared to launch an attack… but stopped. The stranger asked Valistar not to call upon the guards, he asked for a chance to explain. After introducing himself as Rifts, he took Valistar outside the temple where a group of ten children were standing, clearly on the brink of starvation. When Valistar realized Rifts’ motives he could only feel sympathy. He had tried to obtain food to the homeless children… He was also impressed that Rifts had managed to sneak inside the temple in spite of all the guards. He knew then, that underneath his exterior Rifts was a man of good heart. After they had provided the children with food and shelter they began to talk.

Rifts told Valistar everything that had happened, a long sequence of events that eventually lead to a massive earthquake… an earthquake that had devoured all the lands of Euron. He told him how he managed to survive only because he fled into the desert. Rifts had survived the life in the desert, and in the city of Tellaso, because of his skills in sneaking, robbing and deceiving. It didn’t take long before Valistar and Rifts became very good friends, and Valistar invited Rifts to join him and the other clerics in order to help all the people who were suffering from the Quake. He accepted, and it didn’t take long before Rifts had changed his way of life again. He explained that the way of the rouge hadn’t always been his way of life… he did it out of necessity, in order to survive. He spoke of earlier times… of the light-warriors. But many years had passed since those days of glory. Yet he yearned to go back and rebuild all that was lost… and so did Valistar after hearing Rifts’ stories.

One of the following nights Valistar had a strange dream. In the dream meteors were thundering down from the skies, grinding the mountains to dust. The earth itself opened and spat out burning red liquid that set ablaze everything in came in contact with. But all of a sudden it came to a stop. The meteor shower seized, the earth closed up, and clear white clouds appeared in the sky above. The skies descended and covered all the lands in a white pure substance. Many suns crossed the sky, but when the cloud finally ascended again all the land were fertile, all the mountains had reformed, and clear fresh water floated everywhere. Then Praion spoke:

“The elements have yet again been united, listen, they sound like a madrigal. But something is missing, the lines are incomplete, words are left out, the words of people. Embrace the light, let it take you there… let it help you complete the poet, the poet of the elements.”

Then he woke up, feeling a strong urge to journey to these fertile new lands, to help rebuild it, to unite people under the banner of Praion… oh yes, he understood what the dream meant. It was time for him to continue his journey… and Praion would be his guide.

The following morning he discovered that also Rifts had this newfound urge to go back and rebuilt what once was lost. So they decided to leave on that very same day. Gabriel however was seemingly unaffected, so he decided that he would stay and serve the citizens of Tellaso under the guidance of Praion. Valistar and Gabriel departed with optimism for the future. With this new deity they now had found a purpose in these new lands. However they had to walk two different paths. And Valistar’s path would lead him deeper into Euron… together with his new friend, Rifts. And so they ventured off…

After several days of rigorous journey they came to the heart of Euron. All though only years had passed since the Quake, Euron was inhabited by a large amount of people already. The land was fertile, and the mountains stood mighty as ever. People had reclaimed Euron once again, and everything was blooming. Rifts explained that most of the land looked as it did before. Therefore he took Valistar to a ruin inside a city. The city had almost been rebuild and looked proud and majestic. Astoria was the name, the White City.
The ruin did absolutely nothing to adorn this mighty city, but for some reason or another no one could tear it down. It seemed like the earth it was build on was sanctified. As if the ruin served a purpose, a purpose that wasn’t completed. He explained that it was once the guild of the light-warriors, and that it had to be rebuilt again. Valistar knew why it couldn’t be removed… it was meant to be rebuilt!

Inside the ruins Rifts found a book he showed it to Valistar. Only a few pages were intact but he asked him to read it. It was written by a man called Galandir. A part of it said:

I have foreseen it. Praion is silent, he doesn’t speak to me anymore…something is terrible wrong!
I fear that the day of reckoning is upon us! Woe betide those who will fall under this darkness… have we all been struggling in vain? Is our purpose annihilation? If the Gods turn silent of us then what else is there to expect…? Regardless, I will carry my soul in my hands for Praion the Almighty all the way to the end. He has shown me the light… I have embraced the light! He has united good people under his glory. People who see valor, honesty and pride as virtues… he has though us to walk down the path of forgiveness…Hails to you, Praion my lord. Hails to you for showing me the light…

Rifts told about Galandir, and what kind of man he was. What achievements he had accomplished, and what kind of function he had within the light-warriors. He finished off by saying:

“Now I want you to carry on his legacy.”

Hence forth Valistar had obtained the same position within the light-warriors that Galandir had, before he passed away during the quake. The Minister of Defense. A position Valistar accepted with honor since he had a feeling that he and this Galandir had a lot in common. His now had a new purpose in his life: To help rebuilt the light warriors, to return it to its former glory, and to unite people in the name of Praion.

Valistar sought out Gabriel, his old friend, and informed him about everything that had happened. Gabriel then headed to Talenor to tell the High Council everything that had passed with the land of Euron, but Gabriel chose to come back to Tellaso. Praion had been calling him back to his new home…

Many winters have now passed… the lands are returning to its former state. The cities have been re-erected, the fields are fertile as ever, and society is yet again blooming. Since Valistar arrived to Euron he has served Praion well, and in return He has blessed him with still increasing powers. Powers to heal and help people in need… He has guided him steadily through life. Now the lands have been restored, people have established themselves, and few are in need of Valistar’s healing powers, granted by Praion. But a new danger is imminent… tension is rising between several fractions. War could sweep the lands soon, and since the light-warriors has been rebuilt, Praion has chosen Valistar to serve a new function… the function that also was appointed to him by Rifts. Praion had been rewarding Valistar for his devotion and just heart. Now he would have a new function to serve. Yes, the lands had been restored but now evil tried to take over the lands! Praion told Valistar to really start to function as a minister of defense, to train and study warfare, and to educate other people of good heart. Once again an army must arise under the banner of Praion! An army to smite evil, to protect the weak and innocent, and to uphold peace and justice! Valistar would have to put aside his clergy studies for a while, and become a true warrior of Praion. A warrior that could unite people and lead them against the evil that tried to claim these lands. Many people have now joined ranks with the light-warriors’ army, but they will need a leader that truly is the extension of Praion’s will."
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   12th October 2007, 04:28

Auelmndar Juenrae

"It had been at least 3000 years since the land of Evermeet had had any strife to speak of. Oh on occasion badits or pirates would venture into the wood, only to be driven back by minimal force.

Auelmndar's thirst for knowledge was great, and his curiousity and talks with the Elders worried him. He could sense the urgency and fear in their voices when they spoke of the forgotten times. His questions were generally directed towards the knowledge of the black archane magic that only lingered in the far off lands across the great sea, but they would share little about such things. In the back of his mind he knew they knew more about it than they were telling him, but who was he to question the hierocracy. To question them further would mean disgrace. It would be like questioning the great Corellon Larethian himself, and being exposed to this ecclesiastical rule at an early age had tought him respect on such matters of the faith.

In their years of peace, their powerful magic had all been but forgotten. They used only simple magic to perform the necessary things of day to day life. All was peacefull and the kin lived in harmony with those around them.

Then it happened, they had forgotten the old ways, and they were ravaged by the enemy that they had learned to tolerate. Why the orcs had decided to try and take control over the forest is only speculative now. For most of the aggressors were eventually suppressed, and those that weren't disappeared. Of course things would never be the same again in Evermeet, most of the Elders had been slain, and many of the kin had died, including women and children. A new breed of warriors now emerged.

The once peaceful kin, now were bent on the destruction of those that had come and slain their loved ones. Armies were formed, the defenses were fortified, and the magic had returned. The old allies of before had been rekindled, and war had returned where it once was before, in the minds of the generals, and in the hearts of the stricken."
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   12th October 2007, 04:30

Garg Eowerramar

Garg born in a village of peasants,it was known to be a peacefull and beautifull place.
His life ,pure and quiet,was rythmed by the work of seasons.His destiny was to succed his father and to carry on his heritage.
But the twisted life hastened it to a terrible fate.
He was just a young man when the plague came, as an invisible tide and swept off the peasants.The village became a place of suffering, the deads filled the houses and their bodies rooted.
The disease took him and, his body twisted and burned in agony, he fought with despair against an inevitable end.
But he survived,and weak,as a warrior after a battle ,he wandered in the village,now a forsaken place.He was grieved by the death of his familly and his friends,few have survived ,as Taron Lyonson his half-brother in law or Mobius,and Eowomendel the orphan elf.

He fled into the forest, unable to bear the sight of so much deads.Alone and lost, weping, starving, to the brink of death, he came to an old temple, and falled uncouscious before it.
Its occupants saw him and sheltered him.For several days they took care of him,blessing him by the mighty light of their god,Deneb.He recovered his old strength,but was always afflicted by the fate of his village.The deads haunted him nights and days.
But the sacred sancturay helped him and he found while meditating and praying the rest of his scarred soul.
He learned how to love Deneb, the protector of the merchants, the one who bring justice and balance to the world.He owed to him a new life, a new place ,a new familly and a new father.

But fate caught him up again,and a new loss was to come.The bad omen took the black shape of a great and terryfing beast looming from the skyline,spreading great wings ,diving to the temple of Deneb,wind wirling and whistling around him and his nostrils flaring.A black dragon.
The priestes were killed and their master faced the monster alone.A fight began, and the priest showed up the mighty light of Deneb.
He appeared as a star lost into a deep night, but the hammer,bringer of justice,shattered against the power of the cunny and evil beast.
He was killed and from the temple remained ruins and smokes.The dragon left the doomed sanctuary, an evil joy shining from his bulging eyes.
But Garg survived and again he grieved this tragedy.Despair took him and he wept.He had suffered too much and decided to lost himself into the forest.
He found a clearing and fall down asleep with the will to never awake.Then in dream, a great blue hooded man with a gliterring hammer drawn on his chest spoke to him, it was Deneb.

“My son,the death of those you’re fond of will not be without meaning.You survived against the darkness to bring up again my name ,for your hate and anger will be courage and force.Do not despair,grieves will meet you again,for it’s your fate,and you will find the will to stand it.Follow my words and i will never forsake you,i will always stay by you ,as in the fair moments as in the dark ones.Raise up,my son and go northward to fernor,the great city of merchants.Find the holy light that will lead your path in Euron ,for it awaits you in these lands”

Thus Garg ,the morning awoke ,he did as Dened bid him and went northward to Fernor.Since this day his heart longed for one thing ,avenged the priest killed by the black dragon and never this desire left him .
In Fernor the great city of merchants, he met his old friends,Taron,Mobius and Eowomendel.His joy was immense and he swore to them friendship and loyaulty forever.
They shared great adventures together,collecting golds and glory. No one of them tried to betray each other,they proved to be a honorable and faithfull fellowship .
Garg reaveled himself to be a great fighter,showing courage and agility on the field of battle ,never fleing before the ennemies,but using the way of the weapons as the last answer to bring up peace and order.

He learnt too with passion and devotion the art of crafting and made great armors.His inspiration which fed his talent came from his love of Deneb,for he never forgot to respect and whorship his name.He always followed his rules he learned in the temple of old.

One day he heard about a great fellowship of crafters and warriors called the Light Warrrior.They were led by a great man known as Rifts Marines.
He found him and they became friends,for Garg saw in his man a good and trusty fellow,and soon when he met the menbers of this guild he felt himself among a new familly.
Thus Rift went with him to Astoria ,the White City ,where lied the great house of the lightwarrior
.At the main gate stood as guards,two huge and noble white dragons.When Garg saw them fear and anger rose in him,the terrible memorie of the black dragon came back and he reached the hilt of his sword.But one of the light warrior ,who journeyed with him , Milia,known as a wise and powerfull sorcerer, told him with a soft voice that not all the dragon were evil , and some of them followed the enlight path of truth and justice.Thus Garg removed his hand from the hilt and went to Astoria .There in this pure city he met the light that he longed for so long and a new life started for him.

He became a lightwarrior and asked to his brother in law Taron to join him,and Taron joined the lightwarrior too.He asked to Eowomendel to join him,but he followed a differents paths that lead to darker place,and the heart of Garg was trouble .

Garg then swore to never fail his new friends,his heart was light now that he found a new familly and he was resolute to never lost it once more time.

But Garg didn’t find the Black Dragon,noone could help him,and he decided to wander alone in wild place,where it is told that dragons lied.
He went into a dark cave ,a gloomy place that few will dare to venture ,he prayed his god ,Deneb ,to give him courage and strength.

There inside he saw ,lost in the deep darkness of the cave ,a great dragon,his bulged mass lying down with his wings unfolded.Garg recognised the beast that he was looking for.Then he swayed up his sword and loudly called help from Deneb.The dragon woke up and challenged the warrior.
Then they fought together;the sword of Garg sparkling each time it hitted with fury the scales .The cave shimmered from the sound of the battle and at last Garg killed the beast.
Joy rose in him at the sight of his ennemie lying down,vengence was done.But when he hold up and flammed his torch he saw clearly that his mind cheated him.The dragon was not the black one,it was a blue one .
He went out the cave and journeyed backward to Astoria.When will he met this black dragon,when in dream will it stops to haunt him?
He prayed Deneb each day that he could met it ,that he could make justice.
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   12th October 2007, 04:32

Scai Militas

"The darkness was lying as a black carpet covering the land. A scream traveled out from a house into the empty streets of Dala. It was the sound of a new born child. By the last breath of her mother’s the little girl took her first. She was carefully cleaned and wrapped in a piece of grey cloth as her mother’s face was covert by a carpet and her body taken away.
Her father held her tight in his arms looking at her,, hating her for her mother’s death but loving her for being his last piece he had left of his love.

Scai looked up at her father with her golden eyes holding her little doll tight. His face was serious, his dark worried eyes almost hidden in the deep folds of his skin. He was distend not noticing her watching him. She stood up on her small feet, still holding her doll. Its legs were black of dirt because she always dragged it after her.
His eyes turned at her with a bitter-sweet impression, taking her up in his arms, running his hand through her black ruffled hair, trying to straighten it a bit. “My little child….” He paused a bit watching her getting comfortable “…. You see… tomorrow you will be 10… and they will take you away… and I won’t allow that“ he looked into the dying fire. Feeling the emptiness of loosing his little girl, getting to him “…why who take me?” looked up at her daddy feeling sad because he was sad.
“… my girl… little Scai… we are a kind of people that serve others and getting nothing in return…” his voice got a bit upset in the end. “But now go to bed and rest I will get you later” he nodded and pushed her down from the chair. Scai ran over to the corner of the little dirty house and dumped down on some pillows, the dust surrounded her. She took a grey carpet (once white) around her and closed her eyes slowly slipping into a sweet dream world.

“Scai?!” A hard shake forced her to open her eyes. Half closed she looked up at a hooded man, his face was hidden in the dark. A fear ran through her body, scared she crumpled up against the wall “dear, it’s me” She calmed down as she recognized her father’s deep hoarse voice. He pulled a hood over her head as well and took her in his arms “keep it on” his voice was very serious and she nodded holding the hood on place with her hands.
Her father opened a thick wooden door. The smell of ale and the overwhelming warmth met them.. A big bearded man stood lent up against the table, he gazed at them and nodded slowly to her father. He returned the nod and put Scai on the desk. They mumbled something shortly, then the stranger nodded and made a sign for them to follow. She bumped down on the floor and took her father’s hand, following along.
They rushed inside a secret passage and the stranger closed the door after them. “Be quit girl…” She sobbed a bit and then curled close together in her fathers arms feeling a bit tired. She slowly felt asleep as they walked on.

A yelling ripped her out of her dreams. A pain ran through her back as she hits the ground. Choked she jumped up slightly shaking. Her father was getting held down to the ground by a Guard of Dala, another was watching her. He smirked “come here, little girl…” But Scai couldn’t move. She just looked at the guard with her scared eyes, and then at her father. Tears began to run down her face and she shook even more. The guard watched her with a cold gaze. “Come here!” she didn’t move. He drew his sword, it shone in the pale moonlight. She tumbled a bit back watching his blade with fear. “RUN, MY CHILD!” Her father’s voice shook. The guard kicked him so he crumpled with a hard breath. She fell down on her knees trying to tell them not to hurt him... but her lips wouldn’t move. “Come her, Child” the guard voice was serious and threatening “or you father will pay” he pointed with his sword. She shook wildly trying to move, but she was stuck with fear. He raised his blade.
A Childs scream filled with sorrow and fear came over her lips as the blade stroke. Her father fell lifeless to the ground. She looked at him feeling dizzy and sick then she fainted, falling to the cold ground with a little bump.

She woke up later in a dark room...she looked around... In the corners and up against the wall were sitting small groups of children at her own age. she looked down feeling a strong sadness running over her, not knowing why it was there.. not remember anything except her own name…. Her back was hurting terribly as well.
A bell rang. The children all lined up whit a empty look on there faces. A girl a bit older then Scai took her arm and made her stand beside her. She leaned a bit down whispering to her as foot steps on the hall outside came closer “this bell rings when ever a buyer comes” Scai looked up slightly tilting her head “a buyer?” the girl nodded and looked at her whit sadden eyes “you know what we are.. don’t you little girl?” Scai looked over at the door as it opened whit a confused look. “… we are slaves.. we are to be sold and to work.. then die”
The buyer had just stepped in he looked at the children, asked them to turn, to show there teeth, like if he was buying horses and not a human beings. He stopped in front of Scai, She lowered her eyes. “ .. hm… a pretty one… is she one of your new ones?” a man nodded and motioned Scai to turn and show her teeth as well.
“I will take her”
Another man took Scai’s arm and dragged her out of the cellar. As the door closed behind her, the other children when back in there corners, not seeming to care about what just happen.

She was showed to a big house a cross the street.
In many ears she worked they. Scai slept in a small room with the other slaves and early in the morning as bell rang and they all went to work.
Her eyes meet in those work hours with another slaves... a guy called Zack.. as they grew up together in this house… they became close friends.. then lovers.. hidden from there lord they kisses and held each other speaking off the day they would get free together….
A night she was waiting for him on there normal spot… but he didn’t show – neither did he the next day … her heart filled with worries.
The days passed by like a strange dream.. she didn’t sense nothing and it was like every face reminded her off him…
Had he bin sold? … or had he managed to escape?
In her distend condition she didn’t care that she was asked to clean off the execution block.. she didn’t care who the axe was going to fall upon… as the hour came where a poor soul was brought to the place.. she was sitting alone crumbled together in the small cellar that had become her home. Suddenly another slave shouted Zacks name. Scai ran to the small window.. pushed people aside.. her eyes meet his a short moment.. then the axe stroke… with gasp she feel to the ground…

The next night in a weird condition off numbness and sorrow she sneaked out from the cell.. out from the house..
Every free given slaved carried a tattoo.. to show there freedom. A friends off Zack who had fleet him self long ago .. worked with that now.. giving tattoos to fleeing slaves.. secretly of course.
It didn’t hurt to get it… or if it did with those old rusty tools she didn’t notice… it was all so distend.. not real..
With her tattoo on her leg… she escaped.. she left the only live she had known…
Her first days in Euron seemed like a distend fog in her mind… but slowly she got on her feet.. always she would carry scars for her past.. for her lose. But she would live.. she would live that freedom and happiness that all she had cared for never would come to see…"
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   12th October 2007, 04:33

Sessin Mezurai's

"He doesnt know where he from originally, but he does no this, even though Ardon and him were both at the same orphanage Sess wasn't an orphan, he was left behind by his family. He lived at the orphanage for a few years until one night as Sessin walked around in the main room in the orphanage a bully attacked him and pushed him against a wall, Sessin got scared, and then started to panic as the bully hit him repeatedly. Sessin turned grabbed the bully's throat and pulled the bully face first into the wall, and then struck him in the head.Sess looked down at the blood all over the ground, and a evil grin showed on his face, as he stood looking a worker of the orphanage opened the door and saw Sess over the dead body. The worker drew his sword and Sessin ran for the door, the worker lunged for Sess's chest and Sess slid under the worker and ran toward to woods. The worker chased him yelling for him to stop or die. Sess picked up a stone and stumbled a bit and fell over, as he went down he rolled over to throw the stone but the worker was right on top of him but the sword bouced of the stone that Sess picked up and the blade fell out of the workers hand. Sessin then kicked the worker in his "jewels" and the worker fell forward onto the sword he dropped.
After that incident he ran into the vastness of the forest seeking refuge from people and civilization, for 11years he wondered through the forest trying to fill the void let in his heart, and soul. Until one day he saw another person . . .a women .. he was scared, nervous, and excitied. He followed her and found Euron..."
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   12th October 2007, 04:35

Ardon Kale

"Ardon Kale lived in an Orphanage During all of his childhood, He learned the basic teachings of praion through his time with the Nuns at the Orphanage.
As a Young child it was often that Knights would bring war orphans To the place he called home It was here that he learned of his calling in life, apparently Ardon himself was brought to this very orphanage by a Paladin of Praion Whom it was susspected was the childs father none knew this mans name as he wore His helm the whole time. he said nothing save "Ardon Kale".The sisters knew this man to be a servant of Praion by the Heraldry oN his Armor and the Pendant he wore, which he also left to the child.
Ardon Grew up to be a Fine Young Man Studying the finest the sisters library had to offer
Romance novels, History,Poetry,Theology,Stratedgy and all of the marvels that were Art.
Upon reaching the age of 14 Ardon Knew his time at the orpghanage was up, so he ran away one night and headed for the biggest town he could find.
Once on the road he came upon a caravan of Traveling Paladins He Presented himself as Ardon Kale and said that he would not yield untill they let him into their order.
They of course laughed at this but kept him arround due to his Reckless and often humorous nature. he worked as a stable boy and into the ranks of squire, eventually working his way to a Prestiegous title. Paladin Of Praion. After this he set out in search of his destiny."
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   12th October 2007, 10:02

Isang Melitacae

"A drought had passed threw the land. The leaves on the trees seemed to be lifeless and you could feel the pain within their bark. The herbs had all but withered food was scarce. Even the animals that once roamed the forest had moved on.

On a dark night the Elders of my village gathered to discuss a resolution. Some wanted to go to the cities, perhaps finding food, bringing it back for the rest of the village. However, the oldest Elder would not hear of it. No one was allowed near the city. The forest would provide. The city hid dangers that could be brought back to the village. An argument broke out and one of the Elders, Ivellios, a ranger with strong abilities and a will to match, decided to take those that would follow him to the city for food with or without the permission of the other Elders. Many elves followed him. Upon leaving the village the oldest Elder declared them no longer a part of the village. My mother was but a young adult at the time and she to left with the group. Little did she know that she had in fact saddened the heart of an elf that would always love her, the oldest elder, my Father.

It was many years before they came back to a land, replenished. The animals had returned the trees came once more back to life and the herbs tickled their roots. However, my Father refused to allow them back into the village. Once again the Elders gathered. Most disagreed with my Father but as he was the eldest felt were afraid to rebuke him.

It wasn’t until he saw my Mother, carefully sharpening her greatsword with smooth strokes that his heart softened. Her hair fell gently along her shoulders as the gentle breeze wisped it into curls. Her face soft and her eyes shone like that of which he had never seen before. She had not only grown older but more beautiful than he had remembered. There would be no way that she would want an old fool such as he. He had to find a way to honorably allow them back into the village without it seeming like he had changed his mind.

A meeting was arranged for them to meet outside of the village. Ivellios argued that they would always be a part of the village. They had brought back with them food and skills of that no one had seen before. My Mother had become quite proficient in making weapons. My Father used his authority to have his one true love and an arrangement was made that my mother would bond with him. At first, she refused wanting no part it. She wanted to travel, to choose the elf she would love, not have it chosen for her. She had only come home long enough to see the forest again, to breathe in its freshness. Something she had missed.

My Father gave her time to accept the decision courted her and treated her as none other. The others in the village bowed to her as if she was a queen and soon she found my Father had bewitched her heart as well. The two shared the ceremony of bonding never to be apart. What my Father had not realized that threw his decision, his family would now be arranged with the son of the eldest Elder. That meant that I being the oldest would be given to the son of Ivellios due to the fact that he was the eldest from the group that had left the village all those years before.

I was horrified when I learned of this. I was close to becoming an adult. No final decisions could be made until then although there would be no choice. There had to be a way that I would not be forced to agree to this arrangement.

“Mother you can not allow this to happen! I don’t want to be given to an elf that I do not love that will treat me like I am his queen only because he feels he must. I want an elf that will love me for who I am not for what I stand for, one that knows nothing about me and will travel the land with me. Then take me in his arms and hold me comforting me like a warm blanket. Please Mother, you cannot allow this to happen!” I had begged pleaded with her to release me, tears streaming down my face. I knew that Father would never allow it, but as his mate, she could. I knew that if she agreed I would probably be exiled, but I didn't care. “Your stories told of wonderous places, beautiful forests in new lands. I want to see all that. I want to be able to do what you did!”

She had looked at me with envy, remembering something from long past but still hid deep within her heart. “Isang, my dear Isang!" She sighed deeply, "How can I make you understand. I should never have told you those stories. I saw you listening to every word. It made my heart sing to see the joy and wanderlust in your heart like it was once in mine. That is why I used to tell you the stories of my adventures and why I stopped telling you as well. I knew that you would never be allowed to leave this village. You know that the decision could change, but it probably will not. Your Father is getting very old and Ivellios knows how much your Father loves you. Although it is honor and duty that in the end will probably bind him to allowing the arrangement to happen.”

“Mother, please, help me! I will leave tonight. Hide my tracks! The moon will not shine this eve! Let me leave! Let me allow my heart to lead me to new lands, new adventures and maybe love that will last and eternity!” Looking into her eyes I thought I saw a spark I had not seen since the last story she told me.

“Isang, you must think about what you are asking me. You are asking me to allow my daughter to go off into the night like a thief. The thief will tear your Father’s heart right out of his chest, not to mention my own. You speak of traveling and love like you know what you will find, but you do not. There are many dangers that lurk out there waiting for you. You are still very young. Your inexperience to life... well… it could take your life. How do you know that what you seek is not here in this village?”

Horrified at her response, I stormed out of the room running deeper into the woods. How could her eyes say one thing and her words say something else? I slumped down beneath a tree the wind whispering to me of an elf that didn’t exist and a land I felt I would never find. My vision blurry I could barely view my Mother as she approached late in the day, a pack in her hand and tears in her eyes.

“Come with me!” she had murmured. I didn’t know where we were going so I just followed her leading me deeper and deeper into a part of the forest I was never allowed to enter. No words were spoken as deeper and thicker the woods became. The silence had eeriness to it, yet, my heart seemed to fill with excitement every step we took. We had walked all night and into the next day when she led me out into a meadow. The sound of water could be heard crashing upon a shoreline somewhere off in the distance

Handing me the pack she pulled me close to her. “Remember that your Father and I love you and we always will. However from this day forward you will not be allowed to come back. For if you do, I can guarantee Ivellios will claim you for his son. Not that his son is such a bad male, for I know that he can offer you all that you seek, but I can see in your eyes a lust for something so much more.” She pointed west. “If you stay in that direction you will come to a great body of water. There will be boats there. Pick the one you want to follow and then let your heart lead you to the dream you wish to find.” Then she turned and started back.

She was setting me free. I looked into the pack to find her greatsword, food and gold. My eyes opened wide as I gazed upon the mighty sword she had hung proudly above the mantel of the fireplace.

“Mother!” I called to her, “Thank you!”

A soft smile crossed her face as she heard my words. She would always be there for me understanding my heart. I felt my feet grow wings and my heart fill as I ran towards the sound of the sea and into a new world and a new life that would lead me into unknown territory.

It was many years later that I returned after receiving word from my sister Amida that my Father was dieing. Mother and Amida had secretly arranged for me to get back into the village so that I could see him one more time.

Gazing upon him laying there lifeless, tears rolled down my cheeks. I gently brushed his face with the back of my hand. It was then that I had realized that even though he loved me he had not agreed with my decision. He opened his eyes to look at me. A chill ran threw my body as he slapped my hand away with what little strength he had left turning his head refusing to look at me again. Horror filled my eyes. I had not truely realized the consequences of my actions until then. My Father had been a rock to me as I grew up although he seemed stubborn to most. Within his heart was a gentleness that he shared with few. He had always shared that gentleness with me, until now. Mother took my hand and led me back out of the village covering my tracks as once more I left the village. This time I would never return but I would never forget the forest that I loved growing up as I ran swiftly and quietly. This time taking a different boat to a place called Euron."
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Number of posts : 523
Age : 37
Registration date : 2006-11-22

PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   28th May 2008, 04:48

The Great War Planned
"This was after Rifts went home."

The Matron eased back into her chair in deep thought. Every now and then she would rap on the table with her fingers. “Next time put his body where they can not find him.” she blurted out finally. Before the last word was barely out of her mouth, she struck the male warrior beside her. He fell down on one knee visibly shaken. A small trickle of blood seeped out of his nose. “Yes Matron.” He told her in a soft yet deep voice. “Now gather your generals. The task will be harder now thanks to your blundering mistakes.” She drew back to hit him once again only to find him wincing in anticipation. She smiled and stopped just short and rubbed the side of his cheek. “I know you will not let me down this time.” she said in an unusual seducing tone. “Of course not.” he said.

In Astoria the shouts of battle cries rang out through the land like a never ending gong. “Kill them all! Don’t leave any standing!” he said in great hatred. “The House of Alushri shall pay for their foolishness.”

Steel struck the core of the raiding party, and when the air cleared, hundreds of the dark skinned elves lay dead. Many good Light Warriors suffered as well under the command of the steadfast leader of the light. The attacks grew more and more frequent; however the end result was always the same, victory for the followers of the light. House Alushri suffered many defeats under the command of Matron Namariyu Alushri, and her anger burned for the Light Warriors and their unwavering leader.

Last edited by Rifts Marines on 28th May 2008, 04:54; edited 1 time in total
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Age : 37
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PostSubject: Re: Lightwarriors Guild of Craftmanship - Stories   28th May 2008, 04:52

The Fall of a War Torn Leader

The news of The Great War and it’s toils that the battles had had in Astoria reached Portania at last. Portania was the homeland of Rifts the Great, the name given to Rifts Marines by his long time friend and now leader of what was left of the rag tag group of warriors of the light. In it’s glory days that proud group had been called the Light Warriors. It had been sometime since the tall and ruggedly handsome founder of the Light Warriors had actually thought about Astoria, but this news tore at him inside, and he anguished almost like he was in pain.

The next day Rifts awoke to an unusually bright and serene morning. The last few weeks had been cold and gloomy during this changing of seasons, but today was different. Rifts was different, as his gaze caught the sight of his long sword, the one that hung over his fireplace. The sun bounced off it’s polished blade, and he stared at it uneasily for an eternity until he kicked the chair out from underneath him. “Light Warriors are for life”, he murmured under his breath, “besides who knows what that pale skinned elf has gotten my comrades into”. Then he smiled and smirked as his thoughts wandered to a time of old that he had tried to forget.

“You disappoint me old friend” the elf said with a look that would cut through any stare. “How can you make him” he said sarcastically” a higher rank than me? I have been with you longer than that human, and…… Oh forget it!” Auelmndar stormed out of Rifts office like he running away from one of the demons of the dark caverns of Apolas. Apolas was the last place a sane minded adventurer would want to travel.

“This is madness.” He said as he snapped to his senses. “I’ve got to help that ill-tempered self-centered know it all tree climber.” He glanced again at the long sword that gleamed like lightening from it’s perch. A strong and steady hand grasped the steel from it’s resting place, and he cut the air with it like he was striking a troll from The Dark Woods. He was a calm yet towering human with a commanding presence that many did not quite understand at times, but that most could not resist, and the swinging of that sword was effortless to him. He sheathed the sword and smiled. “Today we fight, we fight until death, and the Light Warriors live forever.”
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