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Ainvar the Red Viper
The cowardly mage sat in the back of his cell and hurriedly pulled
his cloak around himself. He nervously glanced at the dark, cowled figure
in the corner, and invluntarily shivered. His elven captors had dragged the
completely motionless drow male and deposited him roughly in the corner,
then left. At first the mage thought he was dead, another victim of the
mighty gryphons that his enemy used as guardians, but upon closer
inspection he realized the dark elf was merely in a very deep sleep, his
heartrate so low as to be almost imperceptible.
After what seemed like hours, his companion in captivity began to
move. Shivering with cold, the mage crouched back into the shadows and
waited. Slowly, the elf rose to a sitting position and looked about himself.
Despite being in a prison cell, he surveyed the scene as if he were the
master of the situation. After a full minute of studying the details of
the prison, he finally fixed his scrutinizing gaze on the mage. To his
horror, the mage saw that the dark elf's eyes were pure, blood red, and
glowed with the light of those who can see in the pitchest black. After
another minute of staring directly at the hapless mage, the figure spoke.
"Are we in the Castle of Saedron?"
Summoning up all his courage, the mage nodded.
"Then those accursed light elves must have captured me in my sleep,"
muttered the drow, though he seemed more annoyed than afraid.
"W-w-who are you?" asked the mage.
"My name is Ainvar. Have you heard of me?" When seeing the mage
shake his head, Ainvar added, "Well, soon the whole of the world, from the
Spine of the World to the depths of the Mirin'nir, will know and fear my name.
I am the first dark druid since the days of Remor Kelvin, and I will make
myself known soon..."
The bewildered mage merely nodded.
"I shall tell you my story, to pass the time...
Many years ago, I was found by the ranger Sting and, due to my
intelligence and affinity with nature, brought to study with the great
druid Lefaydom. After a few weeks of rapid learning, I was ready to pass
my first test, to advance from initiate to druid. However, the first test
involved sitting in a cage with a venomous viper, and convincing it not to
bite. I was a rapid student in many ways, but my great fear of snakes
overcame me, and when the viper was released into my cage, I panicked.
Sensing my fear, it immediately bit me. Lefaydom cured my poison, of
course, but I was delirious for weeks. I lay in my bed thinking of how I
hated the world, how I hated the viper, how I hated the druid, and, above
all, how I hated my cowardice. Then my Lady Kirha came to me in my
delirium. If I gave my soul to her, she promised to grant me one wish.
And so I wished for the one thing I lacked: Courage in the face of death.
The next night, I snuck out into the woods and found that venomous viper,
and five more like it. I also found 6 wild boars, and 6 ravens. With my
newfound powers I charmed them all into my service, and raided the druid
camp. That night was the most glorious night of my life. I ordered my
newfound friends to kill every last initiate, every last druid, even the
brownies that worked to feed us while we studied. Only Lefaydom survived
my onslaught, and he was badly wounded. Dripping blood, I fled out into
the dark woods, to finish my training as a druid on my own.
Later, when I was already a great arch-druid in my own right, I began
to fulfill my promise to my Lady. I became a dark priest so evil that
even the other Darkfriends tremble to say my name...
And soon, soon, my friend, I will bend the wills of the strongest
beings that exist to my own will, and, coupled with my dark magic, I will
rip to shreds not only Lefaydom and Sting, but every creature who opposes
me. Oh yes, they will know the name of Ainvar the Red Viper, Head Priest
of the Darkfriends!"
The mage looked at the zealous druid, and shivered. Somehow, he
believed his every extravagant promise.
"And now," spoke Ainvar, "it is time to leave this miserable prison."
The mage lifted his head expectantly, waiting to be freed. With two
words, Ainvar created a great scimitar made of flames out of thin air.
"But first, I must cover my tracks. You don't really think I would tell
you my deepest shame and let you live, do you?"
The mage slowly realized what was happening and tried to scurry, like
a rat, out of Ainvar's way, but at another command from the mouth of the
druid the plants rose up to entangle him and the mage could not move. As
if toying with him, Ainvar uttered the words "desecrate," covering the
mage with an evil mist. Then, with a single slice from his wicked
scimitar, he beheaded the mage. Licking the blood off his hands
and laughing insanely, Ainvar briefly faded from view, reappearing on the
other side of the prison door. Moments later, the screams of the High
Lord of Saedron could be heard echoing through the forest as he was torn
to shreds by his own trusted gryphons and the tottering zombies of his
former guards.
The Beginning of the End...
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Amon was born in the great city of Karak-Kadrin. He was Son to the ruler of the Dwarves the Mighty
warrior King Sigmar himself. When Amon was of age like all other dwarves he was sent into the world
to find himself to become a man. King Sigmar gave Amon money, weapons and armor to help him on his
journey. While he was walking towards the city of Manetheren he was captured by the Darkfriends and
was turned to the side of evil the darkfriends renamed him to Hades. He was sent by the darkfiriends
to do unspeakable acts to the people of Manetheren and one day was ordered by the darkfriends Leader
Lyzen to enter Karak-kadrin and destroy the peaceful gully dwarves for their sanctuary potion. He went
into the city unwillingly and was attacked by his past friends they, no longer recognized him as their
prince, they saw him as a bearer of Darkness and tried to fight him off. They tried to keep him from
entering the city but these guards were no match for his might and the strength of his berserking rage.
As he went further and further into the city he came face to face with his former mentor, the great
Thorgar Bonebreaker. Thorgar saw the evil that became of Amon and attacked him on site, hollering "Evil
has no place in our village. Die Darkfriend!." He fled from his former mentor knowing that Thorgar could
easily break him in two and when he finally returned from his life threatening journey to speak with
Lyzen, he was spat upon by the darkfriends as a Failure. Lyzen told him that he saw his potential and
would give him another chance, a chance to redeem himself and help free Bal'azamon himself. While he
was preparing for his 2nd quest to become a true member of the darkfriends he was discovered by the
Amyrlin Seat and was to be brought to her at once. While he was with the Amyrlin Seat Gevila, she showed
him his true self and the path of the Crusades. Gevila made him remember his past name and his past
all together. He returned home 12years after setting off on his journey and Sigmar's long lost son was
finally found. The dwarves of karak-kadrin rejoiced for days with a festival. After the festival all
was good and well inside the Dwarven City but outside total war had broken out between the Darkfriends
and the White tower. He ran to Tar Valon as soon as he heard of the outbreak of war and joined the White
Tower as a Warder. His skills, weapons, and armor that only he could use made him an advantage over most
enemies. He quickly rose in rank within the White Tower until he was under Balwin the Master of Combat.
He even gained the rank as Warder for the Amyrlin herself. Later that year, the Amyrlin was assassinated
and many ajah's and warders alike, blamed him for not protecting her well enough to save her. He then
resigned his position as a warder for the Tower and sought new adventure. He then rose in strength even
more and found the Black Tower itself. He found himself at the feet of the M'hael, the leader of the
Black Tower, he was known as Gustha at the time. Gustha took a shine to his ways and accepted him under
the clan. These two men became great friends and even better warriors, but again tragedy struck Amon and
his clan-mates. The Black Tower fell in strength and he had to flee the sinking ship. He then sought out
after the new Amyrlin Eden by name and rejoined the White Tower under her leadership. Amon rose to the
highest rank of the clan and Became Master of Combat. Until the Lords striped the world of Power and
clans. Soon after this Amon was born again under the same tides as before and joined the White Tower and
fought aside the new Amyrlin, Rashima. He follows the leaders as they come and go like all good warders
till this day forth until he is called by his Dwarven citizen for leadership and is corinated.
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Impoverished since birth, I was a scrawny elf and was raised on a farm
with my mother and father. My life was simple, shielded from the complicated
things in life. On my seventh birthday, I received fourteen gold coins with
which I decided I would purchase a tattoo. As any rebellious youth would, I
did it without his parents' consent. I offered to purchase a new cow for the
family as an excuse and quickly dashed towards New Manetheren.
I had only been to the city once before, at the age of three. Even
though everything was in fact garish, I was mesmerized by how grotesque
everything was. I meandered around the city, completely lost, yet enjoying the
bustle of it all. Quickly, a man grabbed my arm.
' Are you new around here? '
I stuttered ' Uhhh... '
After making a fool of myself, I glanced over him, realizing he was
the town guide. He handed me a map to the Golem Tower and told me to get a
move on. I examined the map and quickly blurted out.
' Golem Tower? '
He had faded in with the rest of the crowd. I unfolded the map and
followed the directions. I encountered an enormous tower, filled with
strange men, men like I had never seen before. Their skin were made of cloth
and paper. All around me, other young people were destroying the dummies. A
white robed lady, glowing in a holy aura, informed me that it was a training
ground. Her name was Nova. She looked me over and puzzled.
' What field of adventuring are you studying in? '
' Adventuring? I'm just trying to get a tattoo! '
She pondered for a moment, then continued
' Oh, return to the center of New Manetheren and head to the south.
Talk to the old man.'
I followed her instructions and curiously staggered towards the large
temple. A large man guarded the entrance, covered in tattoos. I walked by
him, staring at his body art. He wielded no weapon, which was peculiar for a
sentinel.
' So you wish to become a monk? '
' Monk? Nova told me to come to you so I can buy a tattoo. I hope
fourteen gold coins will cover the cost. '
He grabbed my wrist and began to etch a black weasel climbing a
willow branch. Its beauty was unsurpassed by anything I had seen before. I
gave him the fourteen coins, but he declined.
' I will see you again, my student. '
I returned to my parents' farm much later then expected. The sky was
dark and the cottage seemed to glow with warmth in the spring evening. I
covered my wrist with the sleeve of my patched shirt, and opened the door.
The entire inside of the house had recently been set ablaze. My parents'
charred corpses had been beheaded. A goblin, presumably left behind from
whoever attacked the farm, leaped at me. Almost instantly, I sent my battle
hardened fist through his chest, killing him.
I cried as expected and returned to the only other person I knew, the elderly
monk in the temple.
After offically becoming a spring monk, my elven adeptness to magic
lead me to the ways of the Order Cleric. I became known as the Scarred
Martyr to the defenseless, putting myself in danger to save the weak. My
devoutness to Nevron is directly related to the unresolved slaughter of my
parents.
I am Anastasius D'Khan, the Scarred Martyr. Give me justice.
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When tens of thousands of Aiel warriors crossed over into the world, to punish
the King for his great sin, Anetjon was born. One of the Maidens of the Spear
fell in love with a noble of the land, Cairhien. This was extremely odd
considering the feelings between the two people. The Maiden became pregnant,
and when she had the baby, she refused to keep it, not wanting to give up her
spear and life as a warrior. As she was about to bring it to another so that it
could be raised, the King's army descended upon the Aiel. The father, a noble of
the land, tried to speak the general out of attacking, fearing that his lover and
his son would be killed. Even with his position, he could not convince the general
to stop the attack. Herindha, the Maiden, and Anetjon's mother, told Jeram,
Anetjon's father, to take the baby to a safe place, that she could not abandon her
people. Jeram said that he would not abandon her to the army. When it came time
for the Aiel to march on to meet the Cairhien, Jeram took the baby to a small
village nearby to be raised by a farmer and his wife. The largest battle that the
world had seen in a thousand years took place in the next few days. Instead of just
the Aiel clan, Taardad fighting the Cairhien, four Aiel clans faced all the
nations united at the walls of the city Tar Valon. After days of gruesome fighting,
the Aiel turned around and left. Most called this a retreat, the Aiel fleeing,
the nations victorious, but in truth, King Laman was dead, and punished. The
battle done, the farming couple went to find Herindha and Jeram to return the infant.
What they found were a pair of Shienarians burying two bodies. "Have you seen a
couple went to find Herindha and Jeram to return the infant. What they found were
a pair of Shienarians burying two bodies. "Have you seen a Cairhienin noble and a
Maiden of the Spear together? Lord Jeram and Herindha are their names." Puzzled,
the Shienarians looked at them. "We just finished burrying a Cairhienin and a
Maiden, it was probably them." Nodding, the old farmer returned with the baby and
raised him as his own. Never knowing the difference, Anetjon grew up. He was
short, from his father, yet had flame-red hair, and blue eyes, from his mother.
When Anetjon was barely old enough to be called a man, he left home, without
telling anyone. He took some clothes, some water, dried meat, and cheese. He set
off to see the great city of Tar Valon, a legendary place from a gleeman's tale.
Traveling north, he had to sleep on a soft bed of pine needles, or in a barn more
often than not, he finally reached Tar Valon in about a month. Being from a small
farming village, Anetjon had never before seen a town, much less a city, and Tar
Valon was the largest, most beautiful city in the world. Shining walls encased
towers that seemed to be gigantic flowers blooming to the cloudless sky. With the
more of the daylight behind him than ahead, he peered towards the far side. A
large shape, silhoutted by the setting sun stood there. A building to marvel all
others. A him than ahead, he peered towards the far side. A large shape,
silhoutted by the setting sun stood there. A building to marvel all others. A
building that could hold all the people he had ever seen in his life and then
some, he wagered. A woman walked up to him, dressed in brown wool. She had a
streak of gray in her hair, but Anetjon could not put an age to her. "The White
Tower itself, it is the most magnificent building in the world, yes?" The woman
had a heavy accent in her voice that he could not recognize. "It is home of Aes
Sedai, my home. I am Jehanni Sedai of the Brown Ajah, what brings you to Tar
Valon? You do have odd features, no? Short, like a Cairhienin, yet...if you were
taller you would be the exact image of an Aielman, yes?" Anetjon stared at her,
mouth gaping. An Aes Sedai! Wielders of the One Power, who were said could do
magical wonders never thought possible. Some stories had called them evil witches,
in service of the evil Lord of the Night, the Dark One. Others said they were
only a small step below the Creator himself, but all agreed they were women who
could make anyone do anything they wanted. "I am...I am Anetjon Dehta'Kahr..I
came to see the city, I have never seen a city. Tar Valon was the closest from
what I could tell from my ol' man's map, and from what people passing by said,
was also the grandest." "Well, Tar Valon was buil...." the Aes Sedai continued
to talk on, but Anetjon felt very cornered and scared for a moment. He started
remembering all the tales of the evil witches, who manipulted and served the
Dark One. He had to get away, he just had to. He felt a need greater than any
other. He reached out to something that could help him. Molten fire hotter than
the sun, ice cold snow colder than anything else, filled him, and the Aes Sedai
lifted into the air, her face filled with horror. Anetjon, had no idea what was
going on and started to run. A large man, that Anetjon thought was a guard,
yelled at him to stop running. He clubed Anetjon with the handle of his sword,
and grabbed onto his arm. That moment, three women, whom Anetjon thought to be
Aes Sedai ran towards him. "He can channel! Stop him! For the love of Light,
stop that man!" He was filled with joy, and pain, fire and ice. The three Aes
Sedai went flying through the air, the guard fled realizing what was happening.
"He is too strong, we must link!" Molten lava, an avalanche torrenting his soul,
the Aes Sedai stopped in mid air, as if encased somehow, a cage no one can see.
Anetjon ran and ran and ran, away from the setting sun, away from the city of the
witches, that wanted to do the Light alone knew what to him. He ran to the great
mountains called the Spine of the World, and pressed on. Crossing the mountains,
he found a group of Aiel warriors. "A wetlander, kill him!" screamed the Aiel,
veiling their faces. The fire filled him, hot enough to burn his soul, and ice
consumed him, cold enough to freeze his mind. The Aiel stopped short in a dead
run, and so did the spear that was flying at him. "He can channel," commented an
Aiel, in an extremely calm voice. "Perhaps he is He Who Comes With the Dawn?"
said another. "Perhaps." "Release us, and we will take you to the Chiefs." And
so did Anetjon set out to meet the Aiel Chiefs, and so did he complete the
prophecies of Rhuidean, and become the Car'a'carn, the Chief of Chiefs.
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Hundred of years ago a sacrifice was made, of a young woman who had
the power to control magic. The day she died the sky turned dark, clouds
covered all, and a lightning dance appeared in the sky. Stories are told that
her body died but her soul escaped the torture, that she was confined to be
immortal, to be without a body. The stories also say that she someday will
be reborn, like the new breed of dragons in the winter nights caring their
eggs, she is taking care of her new body. Dark mages know this and they are
preparing for the day, watching every woman that is going to give birth,
looking for a sign everyday a child born. Watching the stars, moons and
planets, they have come to a date, an exact moment when all the power of the
universe will be held in a rain of stars between three planets. That night
the child will be born with the power, an essence of that woman that died for
crimes she didn't commit. Who to blame for her death, who to blame for the
crimes, who is responsible for who? No one can tell, only guess and tell
stories of what could happened if she awakens with the hunger of revenge.
Two-hundreds twenty-four years later…
It all began on a dark night, when a dark man waits with a dark
purpose. A moment when the fabric of reality of the world were being
manipulated by some strange force of unknown power beyond belief. When the
stars start making some strange dance in the sky. At that night a woman was
selected, to have the child of pure power, a child that would have the power
to control the forces of magic. Outside the house that man waits with a
goal, waiting for that woman to give birth to a creature with the essence of
the universe, with the power to control the legends, reality itself. At that
moment when the sky filled with clouds dark as an evil soul that woman
started feeling the contractions of that baby coming. The sounds of the
woman's screams were heard over the street, as she give birth to a beautiful
baby elven girl. At that moment, the celebration started at that house, and the
man started approaching the house, summoning some black energies from the air
around him, and as he got near enough he send a ball of fire toward the
house. As the fireball hit the walls the house exploded, everybody inside
the house died with the exception of the newborn child that was already in
the hands of that man.
Seven years later…
On a small island a young girl practices her magic with freedom, no one
bothers her, no one speaks to her, only her master. A man of about two hundred
year, of a dark soft skin almost as silk, with long white hair, young
of appearance, his eyes like golden moons. He is always dressed in white
robes and holding in his left hand a strange staff. He always watched her
daughter practice what he has taught her.
"Concentrate more, focus yourself on your target" the girl heard in her mind
her master said.
And as she did, forcing her mind to focus, not to think in anything but her
target, she manage to create flaming arrows of fire from her fingertips and
throwing them to some sacks a few yards away they explode leaving behind
dust and destruction.
"Good, very good indeed my child" her master said loudly this time with his
own voice.
As the girl looked back her eyes started glowing with a pale green light,
and a strange power started flowing from the ground and in a blink of an eye
she was inside the old man's house. Her powers were growing minute by minute
stronger and the force in her was immense and great. Once inside the house a
small woman dresses in black and white cloths was serving the food and
looking to the bowl which was still on the fire.
"Come, come, dinner is serve and eat it all if you want to be a strong
woman" said the small woman to her.
It was the first time the girl saw this woman, and heard her voice. That
woman seemed just another illusion from her master, or then again could be
another servant of the big house. There were more than a hundred servants
working everyday, but they seemed to disappear once in a while and new would
come to replace them. It was mysterious but she never asked what was going
on, why ask that was not hurting her in anyway, and things happen because of
a destiny, she could not change that. Days would pass and the same things
would happen each day a new person serving the food or cleaning the rooms or
just taking out the garbage, the only thing that was changing was the way
she thought of life and the power she was holding inside her. Life was
becoming harder for her the spells were more complicated and for the most
she was starting to question why thing happened, why she was here, or why she
didn't have a name. But an answer never came to her ears or mind, it was
just another shadow she didn't create, one she could not destroy with a
touch of light.
One day her master summoned her to his temple, which was an underground
room of the house. The walls were made of marble, of a blood red color,
which gave the room a look of darkness, candles were in every corner. In the
center of the room was a small altar that was made of wood and in the
altar were the remains of what seemed to be a beast or monster. Her master
was floating in the center of a star marked on the floor.
"Come closer my child, I won't harm you, trust me" he said with a gentle
voice.
The girl started walking toward him, but as she was approaching him his
face, hands and body started to crumble and decay. It seemed to her like
another of his illusions but this time was real, a ghost-like form appeared
after all the body of the master was only dust.
"Master, master? Where are you master? I am not in the mood for jokes or
another stupid lesson" said the girl without a name.
"I am not playing my child. I have summoned you to show you what was hidden
from you since the day you born" the ghost started talking.
His voice was a mere sound without comprehension for the servants who were
hearing through the walls, but for the girl it was as gentle and sweat as it
has always been. At that moment, words of flame started to appear in the air,
like a dance, a melody of the light. Every word with it's own meaning and
purpose, as each word appeared it charged toward her taking the form of a
flaming arrow penetrating her. Wounds never appeared and pain never came to
her, but knowledge and wisdom were in her though, running wild filling every
dark space.
"Now my child I can rest in peace, destruction will come to the world. But
you, you will be one of the fighters that will save the remaining survivors
of the final battle. And when the creator comes, you will be at his side" as
he said that the ghost disappeared in a flash of light leaving the room in a
dark emptiness.
Ten years later…
"Welcome to New Manetheren City, how can we serve you?" the gate guard
asked.
"I seek Delkin, the Master of Ceremonies." Said Angelica.
The girl was dressed in black and gray robes and was holding a strange
staff. Her hair fell over her shoulders, white as pearl and her skin a
dark-gray, she was charming to see. Her eyes were glowing with a green
light and a strange energy seemed to flow in contrast to her. She was a drow
elf with the soul and spirit of a white angel. Her name was Angelica
Riverwind, named that way because of stories from the legendary warrior of
the Riverwind family.
"He is in the Black Tower…lady?" the guard said.
"Riverwind, Angelica Riverwind." She interrupted.
"Lady Riverwind, he is at this moment in the tower if you like I could have
one of my men to escort you" he replied.
"No, it is fine, I will find my way" Angelica said.
"Then go ahead. Step carefully, recently a band of thieves is in town robbing
and attacking" the guard said.
"Do not worry, I have my ways to deal with that kind of people" she
responded.
As she said this she started walking through the gate. To the north was a
small shop of maps and beyond it, the fabled Black Tower stretches up
ominously, looming over the city like a great stone guardian. Its shadow
tears a jagged scar across the market far to the east. The place was full of
towns-people making their way from tent to tent, buying or selling things or
just looking around. When she finally reached the entrance of the tower a
young and handsome mage was standing there, who did not even glance at her a
second time after he saw her eyes and look. She entered the Atrium and
started to climb the latter until she arrived to the third floor, the
Ceremonial Room where the stars where watched every move. There, without
saying a word, she started a prayer, ghost started to appear from everywhere
and shadow covered every light, the room was darker than ever, then an a
crackling sound a swarm of clouds appeared and in a flash of light all
disappeared. The ceremony has finished and she was ready to start her new
life. The first thing to do was fill her knowledge with all the books of all
the libraries of the city. A few days later she started making friends
within the fighters and casters of the city learning their culture and way
of behaving.
It was a new life, a new beginning, a new dream, one dream of salvation or
destruction, of life or death. She was only a servant or a warrior, why was
she chosen since birth to be the carrier of this soul, or why her soul was
almost destroyed decades ago, a mystery, another question to ask. But
something was for sure, she was like an angel sent from the heaven by the
Lords of Light to bring order to the world. And until darkness and light
melts away, and peace and war combine forces, then and only then the end
will become.
For all the prayers that heard the gods, for every soul given in sacrifice
for them there shall be redemption and a day of liberation where the souls
will be free and there shall be no more pain. Until that day there will be
warriors who will fight with magic and swords the evil and darkness of the
light. And the day will come and we will be free.
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Stories
Page 2
A MUD based on Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series. With roleplaying encouraged through
guilds, clans, clanwars, holywars and throne wars. Experience the Wheel of Time world in a
whole new way: in an Age ravaged by the Last Battle. The time lace has been broken, the barrier
between dream and reality shattered. Weaves. Clans. Crafting. Huge World. Free Online Role Playing Game or commonly called RPG. The most unique Free Online RPG set in the Wheel of Time world.
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