THE LINEAGE : Part II
In the same time as the first united group of men wandered the world, created in the image of the maker with one goal in their head, to conquer the known world, so did the dark elves came. They searched for and wide for a place far from humans. Constant battles and wars made them weary of the humans and the destruction that follows their footsteps.
When they came to sea, it awoke in them a strange feeling. A feeling of wander. And so time went by, a the elves found a way to teleport to this island. It was a always a mystery to them, what is on this island, what can they use and is there a possible way to live. They appeared in the east, near the great mushrooms. And it was decided to use them as houses. They had everything what they searched for.
The mushrooms became the first recorded colony on this island.
The housing problem was taken care of. One problem finished, another one appeared.
In other worlds they need power. A large amount of power. This island was new to them, it was much harder to find resources. Until one day, by accident, a place of power was found.
Deep beneath the hills and mountains, in the darkness, where old things sleep, the crystals shinned with their light and power.
The elves, a strong and stubborn lot, dug and dug until the crystals were on the surface.
Their quest was a success. Around those fountains of power majestic cities grew. Trade was blossoming. First ships sat sail, but even that wasn't enough to satisfy the hunger for power.
They went deeper than never before, down to the lowest levels, and there found something more ancient that the fountains of power. A lost civilization.
One brave man, a tall, dark-skinned half-elf, slowly went down the large corridors. Around him decay of all kind, traces of a long abandoned hall with arched roofs. Small statues lay destroyed in a million little pieces, strange figures look at him with terrible eyes. Stone walls, three times thicker than wall he say, shinned with a gold-reddish glow. High above his head a large skeleton-dragon decorated the stone arch.
Somehow he entered the large hall and found something even more shocking. The main hall, it looked like that to him, was untouched. In the middle of the room, erected on a strange wide dragon-like shrine, on strangely carved wizard bust, stood a group of highly decorated priest masks. Each had a different set of marking, they were a site to behold.
He moved closer to shire, his gaze set on the middle mask, the mask of Tailen. The mask was two times larger than the other masks. His hands shake, sweat slowly oozes down his face, his breath is hard, his heart irregular. Arms stretched in front of him, he moves even closer to the mask.
Complex inlays light they cough, shined like diamonds on hilts of swords and like silver on necklaces. It is a site to behold.
With all his courage he grabbed the mask, the light stopped. Dark shadows danced across the room, everything moved around him. The center, where he stood, was the only safe place in the whole room.
Who knows how long did it last, seconds, minutes or hours- it looked like a eternity to him. He wasn't wrong.
When the stillness of the room returned, he lifted the mask above his head. Small rays of light fell onto the mask.
What was never to be seen again, now, stood in broad daylight- like the day it was made.
Massive crystal slabs appeared in the middle of room, strange runs engraved on the surface shinned with a bright-green light. Ans on those slabs something even more shocking than the rooms or the mask.
Two reliefs appeared suddenly. The first relief had a man-like thing on its surface. The man moved forward. But now he wished he hadn't. That man-like thing was truly a man- tall, skeletal, with long arms that the four elements around them. The thing had armor-the dragon-scale as they called- that differently shinned from the crystal background.
At that very moment he knew what the thing was- something long forgotten in the sands of time- the Dragon-lord.
Underneath the Dragon-lord a group of kneeling people was depicted. Offerings were everywhere around him.
The second relief depicted a group of Dragon-lords wearing the same type of masks that the adorned the shrine. Above them hoovered a opened tome filled with strange and unknown symbols.
Skeletons everywhere around them.
The elves continued to dig through the ruins and in the process something appeared for the first time in a millennia- fully preserved skeletons of the first born dragons of Skelos. Excitement filled the excavation site. The epics didn't lie.
Time passed by, what is a few years in the lives of Elves? Nothing. Now the ruins were above ground and on the tallest tower a beacon was lit.
The river of time continued to flow and with it appeared the unpreventable wind of change. Across the sea, ships appeared, the first group of people appeared on the island. With little effort they captured the ruins.
Soon after above the dragon boneyard a magnificent crystal palace was erected. It was the biggest palace of its time.
In front of the palace an open temple was built. In honor of their gods- guardian gods. Strange symbols from the book were carved under the careful gaze of the arch-priest. At first everything seamed the same, until, the visions started. Everyone that entered the temple had visions that couldn't be explained so easily.
Only after the arch-priest had his own visions, he found a way how to open the book.
Blood flows, a stream, a river, a sea of blood. Everything needed blood. The book demanded more blood and blood it had. Sacrifices were made daily.
The gods are merciless and greedy. They want more. They want battles.
The field of Pelinore…
Humans began to fall back and regroup…
Banners waving in the dust-filled air… the field was crowned with banners…
On one side stood the banners of the Black Hand of Harpaocor, the Red Hand of Boflulor, the Red Skull of Xosnurg, the Horned Skull of Etral, the Shadow Tower of Xentar, the Twin Towers of Fuspana and the Red Bull of Bewhuize…
On the other side of the field, the banners could be seen of the Black Hawk of Cesweaque, the White Stag of Jacheiqua and the Green Lion of Hoswuoburg…
Moral was low… the enemy had the upper hand…
At the end of the pass the valiant group of knights was re-forming…
They readied themselves for one final charge…
The wizard of the first order used their magic to destroy the enemy army…
After the battle of Garetharn, let it be known that, I, King Dagorad won a decisive battle against my enemy King Aelthan.
Let it also be known that King Aelthan fled the field.
A great king that Aelthan.
His bannermen have deserted him.
The Bards shall sing about his courage for ages to come.
Some compare him General Lonthan.
The "greatest" general that ever lived.