Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Dwarvelf - "Tales inspired from disputes between Elves and Dwarves!"

A dwarf and an elf. Sounds like an old myth when they are mentioned together. We all know the two races from their very depth features, specalities, forms, styles, lore, appearences and almost EVERYTHING!

However, there is something I find quite important but sadly kinda remained behind-the-scene compared to all important events and such an incredibly-astoundingly incredible strong lore. I thought I would kick this off as my own showdown and give it a chance to see if I can manage to deal to create tolkien-quality also not threating any part of Tolkien material. I will completely go through the line of Tolkien created and will be preserving all the rights I have while respecting the immense creation. None of the tales I will be writing is any fiction of Tolkien and by no means are related with him except that it is HIS lore I am inspring completely.

Brace yourselves!

Monday, February 17, 2014

Marva - Blue Prophet


They are known with their distinct appearences, vibrant voices that are most appealing to even most headstrong leaders and their unknown mystic side to the living. But nothing else is exactly certain about them.

It is rumored they are NOT living at all, however that is proved wrong once in an arguable way. (See: Tale of Raven) 

What else is rumored, one of the several meeting points they have is bound to be in Eldgrad, the ancient stronghold of Torvahal Paladins located somewhere inside the mountains of Orobrun. Where was served as home to many fanatics and devilry, lastly to Pilgrims of Ager.

However, none of the rumors could be proven so far. Prophets still hold their secrecy well enough.

Marva, though, is one of the few prophets in the history to show herself often to the living, that is how she could actually be given a title to recall with, "Blue Prophet". Usually a true prophet only appears in the times of need and peril wherever that be, which caused people to think they have unusual knowledge in ways of travelling within long distances and perhaps within the time too.

A true prophet is identified by his mind-bending ability. An unique way of magic comes from times of Nobu Illusionists in Ode Kingdoms. That is how Marva got her reputation grown quite slightly compared to others. During the conflicts of Brothers, when Marva was needed to consult on and needed to prove she is a true prophet in front of the King's court. She chose to bend the King of Ininmor's mind to think of joys he pleased at most, something a prophet never does,  then the King Korran declared Marva considerably an allied Prophet to his people and told them to respect her in all royal ways by person.

After that day, she became as close as possible to living but not exceeding any rule in the Antique codex of Moorn, the Master Prophet. She is mentioned in countless history books by infamous authors and poets, and usually described as such;

The first volume of "Aeslt" sequel, written hundreds of years ago by Gorin;

"Even though days of blight were upon us, we were feeling slightly well when she was close and weaving her thin hand to the people. We didn't need to see any glimpse from her, she just needed to speak and weave her hand just like that. Though, I feel considerably lucky compared to other ones because I actually had seen a part of her face with all her glory for a moment and strangely, I remember none of that glorious memory. 

All I remember is her Gray steel-like cloak, her star-blue cape, her warm aura which fires the very heart of anyone near her with a great sensation. "

Marva cannot be seen through last hundred years though, it is said she was occasionally got into view of Watchers of the Orb in the same silhouette except now with a silver circlet on top of her long cape following her same still and thin body from bottom to top. No wonder where next she is headed to and for what purpose.

As the Olds say; "Never think about the Blue Prophet, you don't want her crawling your mind."

Friday, February 14, 2014

Griffle the Fuzzy Sailor and Regarding to Red Navy

Navy of Redhold was always well known with its power and wealth during the recent ages. Often proved its loyalty to Southern Kingdom in times of war and massacre while proving their worth even more by time. The captains of Redhold are fierce, strong and men capable of taking any risk worth to. The crews are over-experienced with the manners of the seas and unexpected encounters, which makes them an absolute choice for every Captain. It is by tradition to not sail with same crew over and over for every captain after all.

A celebration is usually in order before any Captain sails away, where he also chooses his crew and declares his voyage with joy and brave words that encourages every one in celebration ceremony to step up and join with this Captain of Honor on his adventures. Then comes the phase of invincible Redhold poets. 

When the Captain steps down concluding his declaration, it then gets all silent for a moment. First a mourn, then a second and a third. Then starts the Hail to the Captain. Entire town becomes as one, joining to the Hail. There is no voice, no sound...only the legendary poet of Hail being sang all together, to greet the Captain who will soon to take the voyage.  

To the brave captain,
Who will soon take the voyage,
To the sea and beyond,
Knowing may not return,
*Lesser Silence*
To the brave sailors,
Who will accompany the brave one,
His galleon they will follow,
Knowing may not return,
*Lesser Silence*
To the sea,
Who will lead them through,
His ship and his crew,
With thy captain brave,
*Lesser Silence*
Redhold will hail...
For thy captain,
For the crew,
Until they depart to the seas,
Knowing may not return,
*Lesser Silence*
Hail to thy galleon! 
Hail to thy departers!
Hail to thy REDHOLD!

*Fades away  slowly with a continous mourn until the ship is lost sight*

That is how Griffle set sail to one of the greatest Wars Redhold was ever called for. Under the command of Redhold Marshall Barg Falcon, with his Captain Toran Grizz he was sailing to their fate. An Agatha, it was. Three thousand galleon was sailing to reinforce the tunnel of Thorn. And they had arrived.

The sight was terrible, eye-blinding. From Griffle's Journal luckily founded in excavations, records eighty-seven days of the journey, the last page which was written after the event by Griffle himself;

"We had arrived. And, we all wished we hadn't. I couldn't look around of my now-stunned soul but I could feel what everyone was feeling that time, I could hear their cries of fear, I could smell their tense that was freezing their veins...it was a total eclipse. We were immobilized by the sight of terror and chaos we were brought to face against, all that monstrosity and all that abomination. 

They were everywhere, the army stationed around the Tunnel was already scattered around. But there was still a huge resistance, a huge army of Southern and Western kingdoms were fighting side by side to deflect one of the greatest terrors of the last few centuries. Then, all in an instant, we heard an army of horns all sounding at same time. At first, we glanced upon the tunnel and beyond in fear what else to come out but it was still hounds of terror was pouring from within the tunnel wave after wave. We were all almost dead of fear, entire Agatha were cut silent all in an instant. But then...

We turned our faces towards the second wave of horns blown nowhere near to tunnel, it was sounding from the cliff above where the armies of Western and Southern kingdoms could be overlooked, and also us.

We were speechless...there was nothing more to say. We began to grab a bit of courage back with the sight of...an entire army of Glurhooms. With the every banner appearing, we were feeling our courage growing even more and more. And it was then.

We were instantly forced to hear a voice of someone we really needed to hear. Fearless captains of all, a legend now. He was calling for us, he was summoning us to step forward and to join forces. He was cheering at us, screaming loud...and even louder. 

It was Agor Fellsea. We were done. We knew what to do...

Agatha was starting to sound again with the orders, the clitchy song comes out while pulling off the flags was like a music. We had found our courage and bravery all again. Glurhooms were also agreed with us, it seemed like. They were cheering at us joyfully with the moving of Old Gale, the Marshall's ship. 

What a sight. All the shore we will be landing was filled with armies of corpses. They were shapeless creatures crafted out of this world. Nothing about them was predictable, we didn't know how to fight against them. And this had costed us almost everything."

Redhold always remembered this day and always will. Redhold will never forget the Seven Necromancers and the chaos, ruin and destructing they brought to our lands, the armies of Glurhoom and the alliance of Southern and Western Kingdoms, which was named later by "Alliance of the Tunnel" in the Book of Sailors by poet Radon and Griffle, Fuzzy Sailor.

Now, Griffle is sailing alone on the seas under no banner. He is not the same Griffle with what he was before the war. Those who are seeing him on the seas, may help him. As Redhold needs to make him live...

Words of Terrance, Captain of the Galder of Redhold. After returning.

"I owe him and I know world owes him too. Pay the debt and honor the Hail. For thy future of Redhold, unbind his tongue for flame!"

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Kradus: Chronicles of Old Bone - Intro

Ah...been a while dust of the battlefields slipped over my body, lad. As the time passed, so my memory followed along. I don't remember what I promised to not reveal and I have already forgotten more of things I shouldn't have let fade out, but who knows...

Perhaps I am now an old man or perhaps my mouth is just too dry. Words won't come out even if I want them to.

Hmm, no...why not. Yes! I remember a thing but I assure you, my friend, it ain't any deep foul secret of Calradia or anything that might fancy you. However, you may prove me wrong after all, maybe? 

I must warn you though, things you are going to hear will freeze the every tiny bit of blood in your very body, eventually your veins get dry and you...fade away like my memories.

*With a confused look, young lad begins to accompany this now-old drunken pot*

Open your ears large and listen me now, my lad. 

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Concept art of Evelyn

Evelyn the torn-apart magician, crown-breaker, life stealer and the Artifacter. 

by Başak Tinli.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

A Thug's Pure Son: Vol.I

There are many adventurers around, there always was. It is a dirty manner anyone can handle to their own capability, like Cale. Who used to be a son of Poacher living under unbearable conditions, who used to have been tortured for smallest mistakes he was making, unfortunate boy. However, by no means it was anyone's fault. Everyone, after all has a pure and dark side, it is just the balance between this two side decides on one's destiny. Even his father once was a man with a pure heart.

He used to live a decent life, perhaps a bit jerky but still, no hard would ever come from him. He had a decent job where he was making his money from as a trade-dealer and he was always entrusted on any matter more than anyone. Even though, his early and so dramatical losses in his life grown him as a true man and shaped his life from scratch. 

Then as every man would, he found his equal soul that would come only once in an one man's life and he didn't let it shift through his hands. He held it and claimed it with all the desire and admiration he could gather within himself. Her name was Aren, only daughter of a rich governor who gave out his darling without any question to this young, handsome and successful man who helped carrying his burdens often.

And, they were married all in an instant and lived happily and peacefully for twenty-two years. Well, if you don't count the War of Mercenaries and a few accidents here and there, they were happy as ever. Until this one day when the Akal's magic poured through the rivers while Aren was bathing inside. It all happened in an instant. First caught her legs, then slowly began surronding around her naked thin and firm body. Until Aren's resistance was broken and lost herself completely to this unseen spell of Silver Mage. Then she disappeared and never came back.

Now-old and desperate trade-dealer, Maner was sitting aside his bed. Holding their baby inside his arms, trying to accept the fact she will never return.

Then everything in Maner's life was torn apart completely. His business was no more, as was his life. He couldn't bear this once-beautiful and meaningful village to him anymore. As he was leaving, he left this heirloom of his family which was coming from one generation to other back with the baby just in front of the doors his life passed away. And he was gone too. That old baby was left to dead until luckily a random merchant founded the baby and raised him as he was his own. While he was growing to a man and now with his new family of Pieceloghers', rumors began to spread around about a newly-founded thug party terrorizing the surronding area. Ulros' wife begged him to move somewhere else and leave everything behind just for the threat but Ulros didn't listen her, as he was no coward. He took his three sons with himself and went to fortify the fences. He thought, as his three sons: Elmo, Kuyor and Cale thought, it would suffice but it didn't. A few days later, Senn was heard screaming from the river she went to take water. When the family reached her, it was too late. She was gone. Then, a few minutes later, loud voices began to be heard from home back. They all hurried in an instant and was faced with this new thug party whose rumors were spreading around. Seemingly, they found this lone home, away from any crowd area quite easy to rape and loot. But they didn't expect to see so much male power and specially the Cale himself. It was a great shock for one of the thugs but his display didn't even lose a bit from his wicked image.