Haruchai
As you wish.
- Joined
- Sep 27, 2011
- Location
- United States (CST)
Faerun, a world steeped in history and magic. Once ruled by the most powerful of mythical beasts, the dragons, things have changed over the centuries. The dragons, beings unequaled in their eldritch might, were hunted to near extinction by the humans. Burrowing deep underground, the legendary beasts fell into slumber. Humans, in their near infinite adaptability, developed technology to take the place of the magic that had been taken from the world when the dragons all but disappeared. Of course, there were other races of magic; the elves and the Fae being the most prominent, though even their eldritch powers begane to wane without the presence of the dragons.
The technology of the humans grew, making them the most dominant species in the world, and their haughtiness grew with them. Elves and Fae were enslaved, viewed as relics from the past and denied the most basic of rights. This led to many withdrawing themselves from the world of men and retreating back into their own worlds, leaving Faerun to the humans.
Until the Sundering.
A cataclysmic event that some say was brought about by the Old Gods, and that some merely view as a natural disaster. Whatever the cause the Sundering left the face of Faerun changed forever, a great Chasm rent in the world. Weather patterns changed, geography changed, and most importantly, the dragons were awakened from their slumber. The fallout from the Sundering left the world with another unpredicted result; the technology of the humans, that had vaulted them to dominance, was rendered useless and null. Though small bits of working technology can still be found, and is highly prized, the Sundering was nearly perfect in setting Faerun back centuries.
Humans, fearful of losing the status they had worked so hard to achieve, have fallen back to their old ways and declared war upon all those of magical and mythical origin, hoping to once more enslave those races and take their magic for their own. This has led to open hostility between the dragons and the humans, though both sides have their detractors who simply wish for peace.
The most outspoken of the dragons, an ancient and extremely powerful wyrm that is known only as Deathwing, has sent spies into the human civilizations. Most of his ilk are adept shapeshifters, able to assume human form, and so he plans to bring down the humans from within their own ranks.
Kirturok walked along the streets of waterdeep, the huge port city along the Sword Coast of Faerun. Outfitted in his armor that gleamed dully in the sun, Rok had removed his helm to bask in the sun, his destrier, Dante, prancing a little beneath him. He bore no weapons that anyone could see, yet the aura of confidence and purpose that shrouded him, as well as the steed he was mounted on, forced people to move out of his way. The man had heard of employment in this city, caravan masters and Guilds always looking for reliable hired hands. Rok had little use for those types though and headed for the tower of the Magister.
The Magister was rumored to be the one behind the Order of the Silver Flame; those responsible for hunting the dragons that were coming back to plague the world. Rok wanted to do his part of course and had enlisted when the Magister's recruiters had come to Rok's hometown. Kirturok was no greenhorn when it came to combat and had served the forces of Waterdeep before in various conflicts. It had not been that long ago, and yet Rok felt the tug to serve again and found himself here.
The wall around the Magister's Tower only had two entrances, huge gates on both the north and south ends. Rok approached from the north and the guards stopped him and asked his business.
"I wish to see the Council, and offer my services as a Dragonhunter for the Silver Flame." he informed them. Normally such a boast might have been met with raucous laughter, but the looks of the man before them and the way he carried himself... it could be felt that laughing at him might result in more than the loss of one's tongue. A shared glance and the gates were opened and Kirturok entered.
Soon he was met by an Elder Knight, and the man made sure that Rok's steed was stabled and he was ushered inside. There he was eventually brought before the Head Magisters, a husband and wife that rules over the Order with an iron fist.
The technology of the humans grew, making them the most dominant species in the world, and their haughtiness grew with them. Elves and Fae were enslaved, viewed as relics from the past and denied the most basic of rights. This led to many withdrawing themselves from the world of men and retreating back into their own worlds, leaving Faerun to the humans.
Until the Sundering.
A cataclysmic event that some say was brought about by the Old Gods, and that some merely view as a natural disaster. Whatever the cause the Sundering left the face of Faerun changed forever, a great Chasm rent in the world. Weather patterns changed, geography changed, and most importantly, the dragons were awakened from their slumber. The fallout from the Sundering left the world with another unpredicted result; the technology of the humans, that had vaulted them to dominance, was rendered useless and null. Though small bits of working technology can still be found, and is highly prized, the Sundering was nearly perfect in setting Faerun back centuries.
Humans, fearful of losing the status they had worked so hard to achieve, have fallen back to their old ways and declared war upon all those of magical and mythical origin, hoping to once more enslave those races and take their magic for their own. This has led to open hostility between the dragons and the humans, though both sides have their detractors who simply wish for peace.
The most outspoken of the dragons, an ancient and extremely powerful wyrm that is known only as Deathwing, has sent spies into the human civilizations. Most of his ilk are adept shapeshifters, able to assume human form, and so he plans to bring down the humans from within their own ranks.
----------
Kirturok walked along the streets of waterdeep, the huge port city along the Sword Coast of Faerun. Outfitted in his armor that gleamed dully in the sun, Rok had removed his helm to bask in the sun, his destrier, Dante, prancing a little beneath him. He bore no weapons that anyone could see, yet the aura of confidence and purpose that shrouded him, as well as the steed he was mounted on, forced people to move out of his way. The man had heard of employment in this city, caravan masters and Guilds always looking for reliable hired hands. Rok had little use for those types though and headed for the tower of the Magister.
The Magister was rumored to be the one behind the Order of the Silver Flame; those responsible for hunting the dragons that were coming back to plague the world. Rok wanted to do his part of course and had enlisted when the Magister's recruiters had come to Rok's hometown. Kirturok was no greenhorn when it came to combat and had served the forces of Waterdeep before in various conflicts. It had not been that long ago, and yet Rok felt the tug to serve again and found himself here.
The wall around the Magister's Tower only had two entrances, huge gates on both the north and south ends. Rok approached from the north and the guards stopped him and asked his business.
"I wish to see the Council, and offer my services as a Dragonhunter for the Silver Flame." he informed them. Normally such a boast might have been met with raucous laughter, but the looks of the man before them and the way he carried himself... it could be felt that laughing at him might result in more than the loss of one's tongue. A shared glance and the gates were opened and Kirturok entered.
Soon he was met by an Elder Knight, and the man made sure that Rok's steed was stabled and he was ushered inside. There he was eventually brought before the Head Magisters, a husband and wife that rules over the Order with an iron fist.