cybernx
Blackwater Pirate
Posts: 382
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Post by cybernx on Aug 26, 2013 19:40:32 GMT
:::122 Years ago:::
In a cave some wear in a far flung forest on the farthest constant Nikbo and Nebo share a pig over a roasted pit while in the back a few kilotons ramble away with picks and Chisels carving away at the gold in the rocks face. Beside Nebo lies a Scythe larger than most men.
"Say Grandpa, why do you carry around a scythe when you can just do that" Looking over his shoulder he stares at the skeletons one of witch has broken his pic and resulted to using another third rib for a chisel to mine the soft mineral.
"Well child, often times I find i cant cast anymore or worse there are no bodies around and i must make one. For my magic is most useful on the dead that still move."
"Ay, I understand. But in that case wouldn't it behoove you to have your corpses with all their parts still attached?"
"Well child, I never thought about that, and i do tend to have more half corpses than I would like." Nebo then stands talll and looks around, caressing several Stalagmites before he finaly stops, Yanking on one with all his might he frees it from the caves hold and give it a few swings then smiles
"Take the Scythe dear child, It is yours, Use it well"
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cybernx
Blackwater Pirate
Posts: 382
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Post by cybernx on Aug 28, 2013 13:05:14 GMT
(OCC: I will edit this particular post from time to time with more legends and history about the Golant race, Basically anything that could be found with a Knowledge check will go in this post.)
THE LEGEND OF CREATION "The legend passed by my peoples and told around campfires says that the Great Gold Wyrm Alexstio and his life partner Mirthor, a Elder Silver Dragon fought with a vastly more powerful Great Black Wyrm and narrowly defeated him but not with out Alexstio being mortally wounded beyond all hope of healing magic. So in one last embrace the pair made love and in the middle of the copulation Alexstio died, but not before his seed was planted. Several months later the Taint of the Black Wyrm and the death of her mate reared it ugly head when instead of laying one large silvery egg she laid 6 smaller slate grey eggs and when the eggs finally hatched 2 years later the Golants were born." _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
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cybernx
Blackwater Pirate
Posts: 382
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Post by cybernx on Aug 28, 2013 20:22:15 GMT
:::173 Years ago:::
Nikbo sits at a table inside of a roughly made cabin deep in some unknown wood. The weather outside is as usual dark and stormy, it always seems to be this far north. In the corner of the relatively small and spartan cabin a fire keeps things warm as Nikbo stirs some bone-meal into his Goats leg soup, he looks around the cabin seeing the small bed and Conquest set sitting on a table in the corner. How he longed for some one to play with but he could not risk it. the villagers would have him slain should they find him here. Just as a Clap of thunder arises out side a large shadow cast over his window.
"Impossible, there is no moon tonight....." He rushes for the club he keeps in the corner and ready him self at the door
:::POUND:::........:::POUND:::.....:::POUND::: "Trueborn"
The figure knocking at the door speaks of his hearatage, and judging by the height of the sound and depth of the voice, they are defiantly not villagers.
Placing the club by his side he opens the door to see that it is in fact his Grandfather.
Coming in and dripping water every wear Nebo drops his belongings and pats him self by the fire, makeing him self rather at home before wheeling around and diveing right into the reason he came. "Nikbo, my life is in danger, I have been cursed and do not know if i will be able to remove it in time. So i come to you in order that you may know your true history and the destiny that surrounds you and your life, for it is a great one that you must fulfill in order for our people to survive."
Nebo produces from his rucksack a sealed leather envelope with the golden foot print of a dragon emboldened on the front of it.
"The prophesy is known only to me and your Great Grandmother. the Orical who predicted it lays at the bottom of a very deep pit. But before she died I made sure she put it to paper for you. When you are ready, open this envelope and read the prophesy, but read quickly for the paper and envelope will burn shortly after the seal is broken."
Nebo, shutters around some more trying to get warm and rutting to himself.
"Our people are not the descendants of two Dragons, but rather one, Mirthor a Adult Gold Dragon is your true Great Grandmother, and she still lives to this day. Your Great Grandfather however passed almost a decade ago, He was a Stone Giant and a old one at that. The part of the legend about Mirthor and her mate fighting a Black Wrym is true, but that wyrm killed her mate and mortally wounded her, Your Great Grandfather found her and nursed her back to health, falling in love in the process. Even more, there are other descendants, the ospring of Golants and other Dragon kind, even one known case of a Ruanth, he was the Child of a Golant and a Rune Giant."
As he finished his hurried words Nebo bowed over in pain clutching his chest.
"I must go, It is not safe to be around me." And with those last words he rushed back into the night.
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cybernx
Blackwater Pirate
Posts: 382
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Post by cybernx on Sept 1, 2013 0:30:43 GMT
:::170 Years Ago:::
It was a stormy night yet again. The old cabin was showing its age as leaks had apeard and the wind now rattled the shingles. Nikbo was resting by the fire eating some Lamb he had stolen from a local farmer, not that the farmer could do much with out his head to stop him.
<DRIP>
Another leak apeared, Nikbo chose to ignore it for now.
<DRIP><DRIP>
It was getting Faster
<DRIP><DRIP><DRIP><DRIP>
Finally reaching a level of annoyance Nikbo got up to solve the leak Grabbing a bucket to put under it a envelope falls in the puddle, It was the Praphasy that his grandfather gave him.
"Huh, I had forgotten about tis."
Ripping the Envelope open a great black cloud springs forth and the raging sounds of the storm outside vanish, All light is extinguished and even the very air in his lungs seems to stop movement. A eerie voice emanates from no wear and everywhere at the same time.
"Far to the west lies a desert for beside it the sea steals from every-man, it is here that ye shall learn and grow. Far to the sea a land awaits for it is here Ye will find a home to be king."
The sounds repeat and fade before the envelope smokes into nothing.
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