A Breif History Of Are Rorrim (will be expanded over time)

The Year Is After Era 1865, it has long been overdue since I wrote in this novel. Mother would have killed me if she realised I had never actually wrote in it at all, but still thats a debate for another time.

My name is Walther Sigmund Krausberg the VI, or simply Wally to my comrades. This story will tell a tale that has only been heard of by many a legend. Perhaps only few know of this time, but with the patience and desire to understand more, they will realise how their young lives began.

Now, without further delay, let the tale begin that will help set a stone in this world filled with facinating history.

Chapter 1: The First Era


Ancient tablets can only describe that the First Era was known as Are Rorrim, in the language of the ancients this translates to "Mirror Era", for some unknown reason, it simply was named thus.
According to historic relics alone we can only judge how that Era ended and how this one began.

The First Era: Mirror Era, a rise and fall.
The earliest transcribed text was a tapestry found in After Era 1154 when a pious knight named Garnet Fraudland discovered what he beleived to be a symbol of zeal, or rather, had mistaken for one. Anyone could easily mistake such an ancient artifact as a tapestry due to its mysterious nature, however, we at the scholary have always decphiered the truth of these things.
The recording dates back to what is known as the founding, it states that according to the tablet, the great gods known as Eriun and Faeia shaped the universe with their own two hands, a wife and husband of immortal love, sharing this love with the cosmos as they forged the stars, planets, and suns.
However, after a long period of time, to further express their love, they created, life, and amoung these endless stars one by one they each granted unto them a series of species to govern them.
Ours was the Vaelian, a race described as eight foot tall humanoids with no hair, silver skin, and deep metalic silver eyes. These creatures would rule the planet and begin to shape it as they were born to do so.
As time passed, new life began to bloom, to the joy of the Vaelian, the flowing streams, the soft silken grass, the very air began to breathe as their planet was now blooming with joyful life.
This was a time of peace, and a time of prosperity for all things natural. Unfortunatley, peace has a way of lasting only for so long, and thus it did with the Vaelian aswell.

The First Contact:
According to tapestry, the First contact occured nearly three hundred years later when a race of guardians from another planet, known as the Alterion arrived to this one, Aearth. According to them, they had long since prospered on their lands, and were willing to share this prosperity with the Vaelian.
The two races, Alterion and Vaelian worked as one to found an even bigger planet, but something unusual befell the Alterion, they called it, the plague. It seemed to be a mysterious illness that caused their kinsmen to be driven insane, and yet the Vaelian, had suffered not a single loss, nor a single victim.
Things began to look suspicious, and the Alterion in their jelousy left the Vaelian for dead with an uncompleated work, they had mistakenly beleived that the Vaelian were responsible for this illness and had no interest in seeing the Alterion on the planet.
Eventually, the two lovers supposedly visited the planet of Aearth to find out what was going wrong. It was discovered that they had grown furious of the Alterion who had been traveling from planet to planet due to the failure of their own work out of some mysteriously formed jelousy.
Due to this, the Alterion who had left their work on the planet of Aearth were forcefully called back by the two gods, angered by the fact they were now forced to live on the planet with the Vaelian, a mysterious illness befell them, called rage.

The Period Of Storms:
In unnatural hatred and jelousy for the Vaelian who remained peaceful and even tried to make contact with the Alterion who had been forced to settle with them, the Alterion decided they would compleate their work in a more neferius manner.
Setting to a silent but effective operation, they began constructing something they were not intended to make, death. This essense would eventually spread like a plague across the entire galaxy, as the Alterion silently used this as what they beleived to be revenge against the Vaelian for their poison or so they beleived.
Enraged beyond comparison the gods returned to Aearth demanding an explination, without any other question the Alterion blamed the Vaelian for their own neferius work, the Vaelian, confused, and in denial, made a claim they would never do such a thing, they had only ever been loyal to their gods, why would they ever betray their ideals?
Soon the uneasy argument ended in a victory for the Alterion's deceptive work, and thus sucessful, the Vaelian were punished, by being given mortality, an essense that would literally kill them over time.
Enraged by the Alterion for their devious revenge when they had done nothing wrong, it was sad but true that the two races eventually began prepairing another invention the gods had not planned, Weapons.
In their fury, the two forces, one of jelousy, the other of revenge, prepaired to meet on the middle of the planet, when the most unnatural thing occured. The entire planet was encased in a towering storm, and for some reason, the gods could not witness what was occuring on the planet, nor even see it.

Are Rorrim Fatalis:
The two forces, bewildered by the events, began an all out war that lasted fivethousand years, before during the last event, a towering monstrocity was constructed by the Alterion, aswell as the Vaelian, both weapons intended to compleatly eradicate the other race.
Then, as the two weapons were fired, a beem shot into the very stratos and beyond , as the two essenses collided with unnatural fury, the devistating energy created a vortex of unstable power as it began to manifest into a living essense, known as Anarchy.

The Swarmite Invasion:
Anarchy by appearence had no true form, it was an endless creep of biological metal that constantly mutated the land around it, in fear of the gods wrath, both sides decided to unite against the foe and attempted to stop and destroy it, unfortunatley for them, neither side could truley stop Anarchy, and thus they were doomed, or so they had beleived.
The creature began to Absorb both races into its genetic and twisted essense, before altering their appearence, and shaping them into horridly warped versions of themselves. These monsterous recreations would attempt to compleatly consume the world of Aearth, and in a desperate, but effective attempt, the two races gathered in a temple, all that remained pure of this world of Aearth, as they prayed, and their prayers, though small, finally lifted the veil of storms from the sky.

The begining of the After Era:
The two races, who had long since faught each other finally realised how dangerous fighting had become, and as their prayers were answered, the two gods finally arrived to investigate the damage, horrified by the result, they immediatly set to work in "containing" this threat, untill eventually, Anarchy was hurled into a bright bursting solar flame, ripping its horrid essense into nothingness.
The gods beleived that that would be the end, but they were sadly mistaken, for it was far, far from the begining.
The two races celebrated by rebuilding the world together, united, but sadly, the gods were not impressed with what had occured, and thus decided that a new race of keepers would be needed, a third, race.
The Vaelian and The Alterion pondered what their fate would be, as they continued to work tirelessly to rebuild what they had destroyed , before a new race arrived on the planet, a race known as, The Keepers, a dangerously dutiful race who had no tolerance for either side.
As the two were almost instantly driven into slavery by this new third faction, the three factions finally compleated their work, the Keepers then demanded that both races for their arrogant mistakes of the past left the world immediatly, saddened but realising that the Keepers were correct, the races followed orders to the latter, and thus, only their tapestries exist now.

The Keepers Accention:
In the earliest period, the Keepers were long at peace, or rather, Tyranical Order over the planet, while the previous two races had been simple and life giving, the Keepers were far more dominative, even brutal enough to instill death on the inbalances of the planet, forcing it into a shape they desired it to be. However, something rather unexpected occured that would compleatly surprise the Keepers.

The Swarmite Return:
The monsterous Anarchy, supposedly presumed dead, began to consume the world below the Keepers, untill they were compleatly surrounded. These powerful guardians knew nothing of fear, but were not exactly as bright as the previous two who had reigned before them, and thus, in their swift desire to elminate the force of darkness they used their most powerful weapon to destroy it, how foolish they were.

The Evolution Of Anarchy:
As a result of their power, proud and joyful they beleived they had sucseeded, only to discover they had given Anarchy a physical form, a floating eye, surrounded by eight sharp tentacles made of solid metal, almost looking like a floating star with a horridly monsterous eye in the center.
This beast quickly began to infest the keepers home, and prevented them from escape as they began to become quickly warped by its horridly ruinous powers.

The Last Keeper:
The tapestries only record one keeping of the events before the birth of our races, which is that of a single keeper, named only as Pious, who charged valliantly into the heart of Anarchy itself, and in desperation, managed to shatter the viciously haunting eye of Anarchy, causing the monsteorus beast to suffer a huge blow.
According to legend, as a price of his work, Pious was consumed by his power of righteous energy, and wiped out the corruption at its root, save only a small peice, leaving Anarchy nearly compleatly dorment.
This according to the tapestry is also how the power of zeal was born, though according to some sources such as the Order Of The Holy Flame archives, that is not so.

Chapter 2: The After Era


The earliest recording of the After Era is After Era 204, where a young man named Ingvar The Conqueror, a vicious Greenkin warlord, discovered his history.

The Legend Of Ingvar: The warlord who changed the world.
According to the Greenkin archives, this young fellow called Ingvar was supposedly a potential warrior amoung the many growing clans. He was unrivaled in power, and in dominion, he had land, people, and prosperity. He was idolised, worshipped, even given godhood according to some tapestries, mostly of Greenkin's who want a hero to look up to.
However, their words are certainly far from a farce, after all, if it was not for his true achievement, this world would remain compleatly chaotic, and the tapestries written would never have reached the eyes of those reading them.

Ingvar, Conqueror or Diplomat?:
The Greenkin race was initially the dominant of all combat races during the earliest of the After Era period's, they had long discovered the use of a forge before any other race, they had discovered how to manipulate fire, how to build hut's, how to barter resorces for benefits. All this however did not change the fac that Ingvar had been apart of all this.
You see, during the very first periods, the Greenkin were nothing more than savage, unorganised tribes that massacured each other at will for survival. However, for the first time in their history, a young Greenkin was born who's mind did not think the same way, some beleive that it was due to the fall of the Keeper's, others beleive that it was simply an unnatural change in the system, perhaps inspired by Anarchy.
Ingvar was a young fellow, but clever, it was thanks to him that the forge was discovered when in a pool of lava close to a spring of ores he discovered it was possible for Ore to change, although he also got nicknamed Ingvar One Arm for a reason aswell.
due to his discovery, he lured Greenkin tribes to him and thus, became not only a conqueror of tribes but able to unite them, no Greenkin tribe had ever opposed Ingvar's, also known as the Ironhand Tribe, due to Ingvars final name, Ingvar Ironhand.

The Discovery Of The Elves:
During Ingvar's mid years of rulership, he was greeted by an unknown race from the north, a race known as the Elves, according to them, these fair creatures had never faught a war before, and creatures like the greenkin were constantly invading their lands, at first, Ingvar turned down their pointless requests due to having interests of his own, untill he saw the beautiful leader of their race, a woman named Celestia.

Ingvar the Lover:
Celestia's capitvating beauty would entrance Ingvar as he was driven under a spell of unusual propulsion, she was fair, kind to his race, and hers alike, and willing to sacrifice everything for her species. Her beauty while captivating was not the key reason he lost the spirit of war within him, but the kindness she showed and compassion to other creatures. With this, a different kind of fire burned in his veins, a fervor to help her no matter what, and thus he began his quest, and crusade, with his kinsmen, into the Elven lands.
It was here that Ingvar discovered the source of the problem, a wild and savage creature called the Human, nomadic and barbaric, similar to how Ingvar's race had once been, although far less civil and far far less advanced, these creatures had a firey tribal passion for war, it was somewhat, inspiring, to Ingvar.
The elves had been his origional allies and thus he planned to forfill his duty to them, however, something unexpected happened.

Kalia the Maiden Warrior:
Ingvar had been fighting against these beasts for several years now as he realised they were percistant and unwilling to be driven away, in his cunning he decided he would fight the leader, the head of this beast would surley be the easiest way to sever it apart.
However, to his surprise, the leader, was a woman, a barbaric woman of savage beauty, and firey passion, her half naked appendages didnt really seem to bother Ingvar, it was her willpower, and determination that surprised him most, according to legends, he demanded her name, and she replied only one word, Kalia. He drew his barbaric axe and gazed at his foe with a passion he had not felt in years, his Greenkin spirit of war was long returning to him and this ferally wild woman was the reason for his drive, as she drew her short wooden spear, with no more than a stone head attached to it. The two began battle, it was clear that Ingvar was not only better in experience but equipment than his foe, but she surpised him with savage cunning and brutally strong character. Eventually the battle ended in her defeat, but unlike many before her, Ingvar spaired her and her tribe, in exchange that she would swear a vow of loyalty to him.
To his surprise, she refused, unwilling to allow Ingvar the pleasure of a victory over her she was no prize and thus she left with her own freedom, Ingvar attempted to stop her but realising that he too used to be a free greenkin realised that he would be denying her any respect.

Ingvar's Peril and Fatal Choice:
Ingvar was now trapped between two women, this species of creature, woman, had always been a threat to him, but now more than ever, two creatures each of a different version of beauty, and each of a different kind of inspiration, he needed to choose which would be his bride, and which he would loyally ally himself to at the price of betraying the other.
In his confusion the beautiful Celestia met him once again, he spoke to hear of the woman warlord Kalia, who Celestia with sadness in her eyes stated she once knew. She blamed herself for the result that had become between Kalia's race and her own, as it was thanks to the elves declaring the human lands their own that Kalia was enraged. Understanding now who was the true criminal Ingvar decided that he would side himself with neither side and attempt to establish peace between both races instead.
He demanded to a human that Kalia would meet him in the wilderness and so the human rushed in fear from the Greenkin warlord and his vicious appearence, the Ironhand tribe warriors and Elven guardians though few there were, gathered as one , Celestia, Invgar, and Kalia met in one place and at one time.

The Matyrdom That Inspired Everyone:
Ingvar realised that neither side was getting anywhere, Kalia refused to leave, Celestia and her race had no where to go, and Ingvar was not going to leave untill one side had won.
As the debates continued, humans, elves and greenkin alike would grow weary of one another, distrusting of even their allies, the elves pondered if it was possible to end this battle by defeating both leaders of the other two sides.
Kalia and Ingvar reluctantly agreed to a fight to the death, the winner would leave, the defeated, would perish.
The combat initally went in the favour of Ingvar before Kalia would almost fatally wound him, impaling the greenkin in his remaining arm crippling it, however, despite his wounds, Ingvar knocked her senseless with his metalic hand and prepaired to finish her, lifting his blade with a possessed and firey passion he swung down, to find Celestia rush infront of her enemy, Kalia, to be impaled in her place.
The faint smile of the elven woman remained as tears dripped from each eye, as she finally fell dead in an instant.
There was silence, before the cries of elves roared out in sorrow and rage at the greenkins barbaric fury. A confused Kalia would tremble with misunderstanding as she cried over the body of her fallen enemy, and Ingvar, glaring at the bloody axe that had slain her, trembled with fear.
Kalia looked to the humans, and with a firey rage of tears in her eyes, she demanded they throw away their weapons immediatly. Ingvar, dropping to his knees, looked at the floor with his metalic hand , weeping tears into the solid iron as he pondered what he had done.
Kalia, walked to him, and comforted the Greenkin as best she could, as he demanded a second time she repay him with her service as a tribute to the elven leader who had died to save her.
Kalia, submitted to her husband and thus, humans, elves and greenkin were finally at peace, Ingvar had gone to a land he did not know, to witness a woman die for his enemy, his enemy became his friend, and unknowingly, he had compleatly changed the opinions of the three races, as he and his wife Kalia Ironhand would together create the first large city , named after the great woman that inspired them both, Celestia.

Chapter 3: The Birth Of Evil

Often one has to see the darker side of history aswell as the light to truley understand what they have become.

Mordred Loreson: the man who became a monster:
Nearly an age ago, even to modern day, the man known as Mordred Loreson still lives, known to be the oldest recorded human in the history of time. Born in After Era 41, the only legal doctrines of this man are from the CCCP files, after all, he is still currently the head of the entire CCCP. Unfortunatley this gives a onesided viewpoint however given that I have always been resorceful, I shall provide you with the full story, including the parts the CCCP will refuse to tell you.

The Savage Man:
All we can base our evidence on is the facts, Mordred Loreson's life must have began as no more than a simple savage, although, according to an ancient cave inscription supposedly written by Mordred himself that statment hits the nail quite well.
Mordred's life according to the inscriptions began as a hunter, a man who slew beasts and fed off their raw innards in the most savage of wilderness. He hailed from hellfrost isle, an icey plane of the most vicious cold, it is said those who lived or live there never walk into society as happy or joyful men. Yet Mordred becomes the living incarnate of how wrong that truley is.

The Mysterious Story:
According to the inscriptions, Mordred supposedly found an ancient relic, a crystal, possibly of one of the three guardian races, or perhaps a fragment of Anarchy. The truth is, it was none of the above, in the earliest recording of the After Era ever through inscriptive drawings, it states that the object simply fell from the heavens, under mysteroius circumstances.
Now according to a true recording three hundred years after Mordred was born, it states the man was seen obsessivly clinging to it, never letting glow. The object has been described in a diagram as a violet crystal glowing with a pulsating light of purple energy. It is highly possible this object may have something to do with the mysterious formation of The Warping Essense but no true evidence has come to back up this claim.
From this point onwards, proper evidence is given regarding this mans story from both the CCCP view and the supposedly true view of another witness that claims to have seen it first hand.

The CCCP View:
The story goes that Mordred is almost concidered a taboo to CCCP, simply speaking his name alone is a curse as they beleive he may come to slay them on sight, given his neferious personality that probably isnt far from the truth either. However, the tale states that he eventually dragged a mysterious stone to a human town growing in the area named Grudgemoor. This supposedly dank and horrid town was the only place of civilsation for half a continent within hellfrost isle. Now this is where the two views differ, according to the CCCP view, Mordreds arrival was a symbol of hope and change, he immediatly began to take the town for his own supposedly righteous ideal which caused the town to prosper.
Later on however, a supposed villian named only as Jared, a man Mordred supposedly knew came to challange his power for the town, in a disasterous yet "necicary" conflict, the entire town was destroyed save the keep, although in the end, Mordred Loreson prevailed and ultimatley slew this "villian" who supposedly challanged his right to the city, at the price of the city he loved, a prize "stolen" from him, by this man.

The "Witness" View:
Now according to the Witness, the truth is stated in a very similar way, up to the point of Mordreds supposed Heroism and righteous ideals, which seem to tell a very, very different tale.
According to the witness, Mordreds arrival was a dark sign, this "half naked" man wearing only a Loincloth for protection was carrying a now black stone which he apparently claimed to be precious, he then demanded to speak with the mayor of the town, Rupert Blogsworth who reluctantly gave him a home and his supposed "companion" or the rock, a home in the keeps basement.
Another witness statement, exactly threehundred years later states that Rupert was literally kicked out of the town, although no one knows how the human survived this long, it can only be assumed he must have developed some "alternative method" of immortal life. None the less, the subject of this chapter is Mordred, who later "conquered" the town of Grudgemoor for several years, supposedly using mysteriously unnatural powers which forcefully allowed him to subjicate the population.
In another doctrine another hundred and twenty years later, thus taking us to After Era 761, the record states a man named Jared did indeed come to visit, however, he claimed he intended to end Mordred for a reason of vengance. According to myth, it even states Jared "may" have been Mordred's brother, although there are no actual refferences of proof to thus.
According to the same statement, the two engaged in an all out climactic battle, untill Mordred viciously ripped out the heart of his opponent and left his withering corpse to rot in the snow, it is beleive'd Jared may have been an Aesir, however according to the timeline, Aesir did not exist untill a more recent age, thus this is quite probably impossible.

Mordreds Ambition, The True Evil?:
According to the later tapestry of After Era 1344, Mordred Loreson had risen to formidable status amoung gentry and peasants alike, infact, his name was so well known the entire world even now knows and fears it. Mordred began his work in the early After Era 1400 where he initiated his "plan for change" in the black rose. One by one, the ministers of the rose joined in and accepted his new ideal in exchange for a condition, he would allow them to govern the nation of the black rose while remaining loyal to his idealism. Mordred rather cunningly agreed, for it was already part of his long term plan, to gradually subjicate all the nations of potential value.
His plan then moved swiftly from nation to nation as the Golden Fist joined his ranks after signing a deal with them involving the swift and efficent advertisement of their merchandise. His next target became more difficult, as he entered the palace of the Turqoise Tulip, he encountered an old, friend, none other than mister Rupert Blogsworth, now known as Maximillian under his new alias. He had founded the Turqoise Tulip to defend Jel'aman at a highly summed price, yet Mordred, cunningly swayed the sultan of Jel'aman into giving the Turqoise Tulip over to Mordred in exchange for a lower fee of work, although they had made one of the largest mistakes ever at the time, they had no idea what they were about to get mixed up in.

The Final Nation, Crimsonia:
As Mordred smugly continued onwards towards Crimsonia, something rather surpising halted his advance, civil war was about to begin, as a precaution in After Era 1453 two years before the civil war began.
Mordred saw potential in a small band known as the Royal Corsairs, one of the least popular to win in the big war, yet a potentially growing power, and thus, he offered them his hand of friendship. They kindly turned him down at first, but after, subtle persuasion, were given a second chance and finally reached a conclusion and as the war began in After Era 1455, the Royal Corsairs were compleatly surprised at the amount of assistance they gained.
Not only did Mordred provide them with highly efficent equipment, but items on a mass production scale, helping them greatly in the many victories to come, eventually, only one real power stood between them and total victory, the largest rival faction, the Crimsonian Liberation Front, a group of militants funded by heavy amounts of wealth by none other than Maximillian.

The War Of Wealth:
Mordred, enraged by that arrogant old man and his desire to gain a profit from the conflict decided he would cunningly eliminate the compeition, Mordred personally went to visit Maximillian, the two men met in a chataeu outside the battlefield.
Mordred offered Maximillian a chance to surrender, but rather unpolitley refusing, Maximillian decided it was a waste of his time, and so Mordred used his deception to challange Maximillian to a duel of minds.
The two noble's placed a staggering bet, the winner would have to pull out all of their resorces and money into helping their faction, Maximillian agreed to these terms on the condition it was never mentioned in public and so Mordred allowed this.
However, Mordred challanged him to a game Maxmillian was all to familiar with, knowing the old man's weak willpower against a challange he set a game of chess between them, as Mordred played the white, Maximillian played the black.
The game lasted three days of conflict of which the decising battle was due to take place a day afterwards and to the victor went the spoils, cunningly outwitting his foe, Mordred secured a victory and not only humilated Maximillian but forced him to sign a withdrawal paper intensionally making him honor his word.
Mordred then publically announced that Maximillian was pulling out of the combat, and offered the Liberation Front a chance to surrender, they were confused by his propaganda and arrogantly chose to fight.
This would be a day Mordred gleefully remembered to be the red star day, for its name was almost as bloody as the amount of lives lost.
As a tribute to this day, the Crimson Star was formed from the Royal Corsairs and the last of his nations, was conquered.

Victory and the Foundation of the CCCP:
In After Era 1479, Mordred united the remaining leaders of the four groups, namley the most important of these peoples, he had used them for what he had needed them for and thus they had lost their usefulness. On this day the doors of that room were closed, on this day, the doors were soundproof, because no one who entered that room save Mordred, returned.
The only account of this comes from a waiter who managed to write in his diary the horrific noises he heard from behind the not so soundproof walls of a madman laughing away as he slaughtered them all ruthlessly.
Unchallanged, Mordred was now ruler of the entire four nation's and thus in his next act he annonunced to all four nations that he would combine them into the Client Controll Cooperate Pact, an armarda of overwhelming numbers cheered on their benevolant dictator as the CCCP was formed.
Mordred left each nation under the rulership of puppet leaders, four of them who would carry out his will blindly like mindless pawns to their ruling king.
To this day, Mordred remains the true leader of the CCCP, never has anyone truley discovered the fate of his, council, nor would anyone who did try to stop him, after all, it was his evil that has lead to the foundation of a prospering continent.

Present Day Activities:
Mordred Loreson still remains the benevolant dictator of the entire CCCP, recently forming the fiveth group known only as the White Blossum elite, he has declared global war on all opposing factions, some concider him mad, others concider him a political genious, but I, personally, concider him a man, who became a monster.

Chapter 4: The Holy Flame

Many mysteries in this world have a tale to tell, often people think of these tales as nothing more than myths, but that is why I, Walther Sigmund Krausberg the VI, otherwise known simply as, Wally, seek to proove such mysteries are actually histories.
For a long time it eluded my research as I peered through every archive I could across the globe to find it, but finally, I have discovered enough information about this mysterious order and their origions to provide a reasonably efficent historical article regarding thus.
Without delays, I now show unto you what I have come to discover of The Holy Flame.

A Mythical Faith: simply a faith? or perhaps a reality:
The only recorded information comes directly from the several biblical texts from the many versions of this faith, however, according to the archive of the Librarium of Scholary, this particular bible, the Quaran Of Flame, supposedly tells the compleate truth of this sacred idealism. According to the Librarium this is supposedly a true archive of accounts closer than any before.
Perhaps there is more to this faith than simply meets the eye, or beleif so it may be, but none the less, I shall share with you my knowladge of this ideal from what I have gathered from it.

The Legend Of Hasan:
Hasan, supposedly the founder of the Holy Flame, even the entire Order so to speak, was a young man of the early twenties when his name was written in the tablets of faith. According to his myth, he was a simpleton, a commoner with only a single yet simple perpous, charity. He had no money of his own, nor home, nor food, and thus wished to provide other peoples with what he could not have himself.
While from a logical point of view that would probably mean to say he was unlikley to ever have lived for so long concidering his lack of essential primary needs, however, there is a statement in the story that explains thus.
Hasan was in dire need of food and water for himself, but always provided others with what he had none of, thus he drove himself to the edge of his life, however, just before the last flicker of life faded from him, his eyes flickered open to see a flame, a flame of the brightest white in the middle of the desert.

"And So The Flame Spoke":
According to the legend, the flame had a voice of deep mascaline tone, telling Hasan he did not yet have to give up, there would be much more for him to achieve, far more for him to work for such as charity far above simply providing people with what they lacked and thus it spoke.
"Heed my words Hasan, grasp this flame before your eyes, and you shall never need to sleep, eat, or drink again, but in return, forever you will be bound to the needs of the weak."
According to the text , it states Hasan would reach out and carry the flame with both hands, thus becoming next to godlike, as he felt new streingth reborn in his soul, the man rose from the very flame that engulfed him renewed with a burning passion to aid the weak.
From this point onwards the usual dribble mentions how righteous his deeds were, going about and helping the innocent, however the interesting part comes to the thirteenth verse where it explains his first act of murder.

"Hasan Would Have To Kill":
Hasan never realised this but according to the text "he was eternally bound to the wish of the weak, no matter how cruel it was." thus Hasan oneday came across an old man, seeking power, Hasan knew nothing of power, for he had never had to provide power to someone before, and thus he was stuck in confusion, the old man claimed that he would have to kill the local sultan, and explained that the man was a cruel and harsh ruler and that his people were suffering due to the Tyrant. According to legends, Hasan obayed the mans request for power and the request to kill the Sultan, he traveled that night into the palace of the man he was supposed to kill and took the mans kris, then, something interesting happened.
Hasan froze, according to the legend, he had been compelled to do charity, not murder, and for some reason, even though he tried to drive the dagger into the man he could not bring himself to.
Hasan threw aside the dagger as the man woke in startled shock, Hasan spoke to the sultan that night and asked him why he was ruling the land so harshly, the Sultan replied "I know not who spoke this to you brother, but I have always thaught of the interests of my people before myself." Hasan then realised that it was not the desire to murder that had prevented him to kill this man, but the fact that he too was weak, a ruler who placed his servants life before himself, this felt all to familiar to Hasan and so he asked the Sultan "Do you know of an old man who lives outside the city."
The Sultan snarled and supposedly enraged he stated as firmly as a thousand suns "Yes, that man is evil, always has he tried to overthrow me, always has he tried to destroy the good in this world, for he is a man who desires only to do wrong." According to text, Hasan then left the city in search of the old man, the old man had turned out to be a trickster, a sorceror, who knew of Hasan's great weakness to aid the weak.

The Confrontation:
The Sorceror spoke to Hasan, temptingly, offering him power, profit and pleasure in exchange for his own accention, Hasan turned to the Sorceror and stated that he would play no part in the mans evil and neferius scheme.
According to text, the Sorceror then broke out in a rage of fury and sent powerful magical energy at Hasan, terrified but determined, the young man of chiviliry drove onwards through the field of magic, protected by according to the text, a flame of the purest gold as he proceeded closer.
Hasan drew his kris, supposedly his hand was encased of a third flame, a flame of pure red, as he drove it down towards the Sorceror, and stabbed the man lethally in the chest, the sorceror let out a horrid scream as he warped and mutated into a monsterous being before melting away into ash.
Hasan, terrified of what he had just done, ran away, with the Kris still in hand for fear that it may be found.

Repentance:
Hasan did not understand, why had the flame saved him, why had it protected him, and why did it give him streingth to kill an evil man?, the legends say the three flames immediatly appeared before him as appirations, each one of white, gold and red.
The Flames stated to Hasan, that he had not commited an act of wrong, but to feel afraid to hurt evil was a sin.
Hasan begged them, for a way to clense his evils, and so they gave him one, they cast down untoo him, a series of texts, supposedly the book that I now carry with me, the Quaran Of Flame, stating that he would be made to follow the words of the three flames for eternity, and pass down the knowladge from generation to generation.
Hasan agree'd and asked only for their names in question due to his confusion of their gift, and thus each flame stated its name.
"I am Hayat" said the golden flame with its soft female voice, "The Flame Of Purity."
"I am Iman!" boomed the red flame with a powerful male voice, "The Flame Of Fervor!"
"And I am Salam" spoke the white flame with its deep male voice "The Flame Of Determination."
Noting these names, Hasan bowed to his three superiours and turned to begin the foundation of the Order Of The Flame.

The Truth Behind The Legend:
According to the texts of After Era 468, there was infact a Hasan, and thus if he has come to be immortal, there must still be a man, perhaps under a different guise or appearence, although under this statment, it states he was still chivilrous but not quite as kind giving as spoken, however, due to many uncanny biblical fanatics, I'm going to avoid blaspheming their faith before the only thing thats left on this archive is a stain of blood or five.

The Truth Behind The Holy Flame:
In After Era 1233, A man named Palegius Marius discovered that the colour of fire could be changed through the use of different metalic substances, it is not impossible to assume that Hasan may or may not have been halusinating when he saw these flames, or simply saw a manipulation of fire cleverly used by magisters, but regardless, it appears that he did infact see all three proclaimed flames in their colours based on this evidence.

The Holy Flame, Myth Or Fact?:
It appears there are elements to describe it could have been a well done magisters trick and also a biblical fact, but there are some scientific refferences that describe no real evidence against the possibility of divine beings, after all, gods have existed before, thus it is possible these are simply a form of gods, perhaps even the remains of the three races that have long since left Aearth.

Chapter 5: Illuminati Cultists

The Shining Illuminate, they have always been quite public about their achievements, as arrogant nobility, rarley do they ever think through their actions before performing something highly dangerous.
However, as this is designed to inform of all things, including mad cults, I see it important to let people know the truth thus, I shall do my best to inform you of the facts in their madness.
However, due to the sheer incomprihenceable amount of flaws, the only way I found my work was thanks to my traveling companion, Sir Arthur Livingboroguh Siderburnsstein the V, most of the time i just call him Indy and very rarley ask about how he aquires these items.
None the less, the subject is the Cult known only as The Shining Illuminate, thus I will explain as best I can.

The Concept Of Magic: chaotic essense made material:
The very first time Magic was used has never truley been recorded, too many tapestries each state a different opinion, although there is a time that magic was most used, during the After Era of 799, when magic was first concidered en-masse.
Magic has never truley been a specialty of mine, often I regard it as an endlessly complex essense with no real explination, but according to the tapestry, Magic was at this time especially concidered a popular thing amoung certain groups, nobles to be exact. These nobles began to rally under one another, and enjoyed each others luxory, company and power.
However, they were certainly not devoid of one goal in their lives, ambition, almost every noble, weather he or she came from a background of fine or smaller credebility would always desire a higher potential. Magic was almost like a new toy for these tireless adult aged children who had no care or concept for the world around them and new developing technology.

Power In The Hands Of Children:
I dread to think of how nobles were in contrast to how they are, but tapestries long record how endlessly abusive their use of magic was. Throughout the hundred years of its fame they were using it more addictivly than any drug found on the planet and the more addictive it became, the more and more enticed in its power they became in turn. They were easily able to escape the addiction but they didnt want to, they never did, why get rid of power when you can have it endlessly, thus it became an insasiable craving for magic.
Noble families used it for all sorts of reasons, to play tricks on each other or start extremely complex parties by using magic to impress the guests, it was an orgy of the worst kind, an orgy of mindless ants using their new found powers to play with the hottest kind of flame, with Hasan's legend being the only exception, the saying goes "play with fire and get burned."
I beleive at this point my knowladge of their magical power ends, but is further increased when I tell you the interesting tale I found of a particlar noble and his family.

Guy De Grace, A Genious Of Science:
In After Era 1340 when the First Age of Steam had passed a hundred years, the nobles had slowly begun to lessen their ambitious interests in magic and found a new toy to play with, motorised vehicles.
Even though my face palms at the thaught of what they used to do in those things it matters not, regardless, their possition was rapidly becoming more and more well known, untill a young bystander stood out amoung all nobles before him.
The De Grace family was already known for its creativity, its genious of magical engineering and despite them being a noble family, even I have some admiration for the trick the Guy De Grace pulled off in his blind stupidity.
According to myth, Guy was young, handsome and definatly one of the ladies men, however, Guy had no interest in women, he had no interest in men, he was simply interested in power like many other nobles around him.
Guy was clever, always the cunning member of any party and he began something that still lives as a change to nobility to this day, The Shining Illuminate.

The Formation Of The Illuminate:
Guy was cunningly able to sway nobles into a more and more corruptive way of thinking, using the power of jelousy, he turned that power into a weapon, and from that weapon he created an order, an ideal and a very long game of chess between every noble in the world, he sent the nobles into compleate chaos in only a matter of words and his silver tounge did wonders to sway them unto his side in every matter.
While keeping his enemies at bay he kept his allies at heart, he knew who he could and couldnt trust, manipulating the weaker nobles became an easy task, turning them into mindless drones, before using the strong to keep each other fighting for power away from his own pillar of power.
Guy eventually decided that the Illuminate should only allow the greatest to survive, the one who won the game would be the ultimate noble and no one would ever challange their place of power.

The Discovery Of Anarchy:
Guy and his band of deceptive assasins left on an exploration trip one day to find greater power amoung themselves, one of Guy's close comrades discovered a shard of metal with organic properties. To Guy's gleeful discovery, he had unknowingly found the only surviving fragment of Anarchy and so he selfishly took it. None of the other nobles understood why he was so happy about the existance of such a lifeless peice of metal, but he knew exactly what it was for, Guy was historically efficent at finding out the truth and used the legend to make a new reality.
Guy quickly left with the promise of returning with a masterpeice capable of godhood and thus it was he did exactly that, all of his allies waited blindly as he stepped into the very temple that had been the Keepers last stand.

Anarchy Reborn Thrice, The Birth Of Daemoniacs:
Guy immediatly set to work, in After Era 1356 when he sucsessfully began the application of magic and zeal as one, he had acheieved the most foul and yet powerful of all essenses, he had combined faith with magic, using the power of technology, becoming a hybrid of all three.
His minions came into the doorway as he greated them gleefully, now a twisted and horrific recreation of himself, only one historic refference tells exactly what he had done.
Guy shut the doors of the temple, locking his comrades into the room, as he spread out what appeared to be two wings on his back, his left, a warped and horrific daemonic wing that appeared to be mutated by the warping powers of Anarchy and Magic, aswell as the rest of that half of his body for that matter. On his right however, he produced an angelic wing of divine propultion, using what little remained of his humanity to appear almost heavenly, combined with the power of zeal and technology, it made him look almost like an angel and devil at the same time.
As he turned to his former friends, he announced that he would now become the God Of Lunacy and as a result, he sent a wave of purley chaotic energy across the room, warping his peers into mutated deformed creatures, known only as Daemoniacs to this present day.
Some were striken with Horror, others driven mad with glee or fear, some were simply excited about this new concept, and then, he turned on them.
As they began to settle with their power, one by one he began to destroy them, as a handful of cowards fled, the remaining ones rather stupidly drew weapons and attempted to overthrow the god.
However, it was hopeless, he flayed them alive in a graphical dance of horror and destruction before laughing manically at the bloody ruin he had created, it was over, and he had won, no longer did he need to challange anyone for power, he had become immortal and attained everything he could have wanted.

The Fall Of The Lunatic God:
As his madness consumed him, he began to cackle into the sky, but then, he felt a strange feeling form across the middle of his forehead, a crack, in his very skin, a beeming, glowing crack, of rainbow like colour, began to work its way down the center of his body, as he began to scream and murmur in a horridly deformed way before his very own power overwhelmed his frail body. The Lunatic God was literally destroyed by his own power, his frail mortal body could not handle the sheer endless essense that surrounded it, and thus it consumed itself, eventually causing him to split in half and explode into two fragments of light and darkness.
That should have been the end, that should have been where it was left for dead, but sadly, it was not to be.

Marc Le Grand:
Another ambitiously strong Noble, named Marc De Soirse rose from the ashes of his former superiours reign. Unlike Guy, Marc was far less cunning and far more ambitious, however, unlike Guy, Marc also had alot more tolerance for power.
He knew exactly what he wanted, but hadnt concidered very carefully how he would aquire it.
Marc was far less potential in cunning than his previous successor, but that would soon change thanks to a certain, gift he discovered in the temple twenty years after the event occured.

Le Grand Masque:
Marc wanted to learn how to be far more cunning than he was capable of being, and thus he looked for his formers corpse, finding only two things, two peices of what appeared to be a Mask. Marc didnt have a clue what they were for, but when he put them both, at the same time, onto his face, they began to Leech onto it, almos tmutating into it, horridly sticking to his face, one side white, one side black.
From the inside of the mask, only two glowing eyes appeared a red one on the black side and a blue one one on the white, on the black side a bloody red aura resonated, while on the white, a gentle blue one, they almos looked like energy turned into strands of Marc's former hair. Although according to some sources, this glow was actually violet and surrounded the entire mask instead, regardless, it appears that the mask played a key part in his change, because ever since he put it on, an entire change of his mind occured.
Marc pracitcally became an entirley different person and he enjoyed every moment of it.

The Masquarade, The Plan Of The Masque:
It was the cunning plan that this new figurehead, would host a massive welcoming party for his guests, under the guise of a magical ball with no gravity, guests were required to bring a mask to the ball, to disguise themselves under many deceptive guises. Marc knew that his one couldnt be removed, and thus, he became known as The God Of Many Faces, Masque.
In his deceptive dance, he would visit each guest, and travel to them into his private chaimbers where in their blind drunkness he would literally harvest their face into his mask, each time, the hunger became more and more vampiric as he felt an unsasiable toll of hunger for it.
Marc, who had once been no more than a Human had now become a monsterous beast, and the more and more he succame to his inner monster, the more it devoured away his humanity, and him.

The Final Dance:
During his final stage, in Early After Era 1540, long after the reign of The Lunatic God, The God Of Many Faces was begining to feel the vampiric hunger rip him apart, literally. Finally, during his final attempt to steal a face, he took away the face of his last victim, as the hunger literally devoured him, however, his mask has ever since been left hidden and both him and his predeccesor have been concidered gods of The Shining Illuminate Since.

Chapter 6: Part 1: Holy War

This chapter will reprisent one of the most memorably long wars in the entire history of the After Era lasting all the way from After Era 821 till After Era 1221 known as the fourhundred year war.
This event was actually a rather interesting asset to the archives as it explains one of the most peity reasons to go to war becoming one of the largest drives to last a century.
This all began with Don Juliano Jerando, a man of great prestige and status, who served as a templar hospitaler of the Holy Flame.

Don Jerando: the man who made wars last:
Born in After Era 803 Juliano Jerando began his life as a humbled heir to the land owner Don Vega Jerando, a well respected nobleman who owned a towering amount of land in the continent of Gerandos.
Don Vega Jerando raised his son to be a respected man, and a highly understanding person of the people who followed him willingly. Juliano was of the nobility though despite many nobles around him he had almost no interest at all in the concept of magic. Juliano Jerando was always a man of pious faith from his youngest days, questioning his father if there was a higher power watching over them, pondering, if he could ever get to meet that higher power.
As a result, Juliano was constantly praying every day to meet a force that would come from the very heavens to speak with him, but none ever came, none ever listened or so he beleived.
As time passed on his father grew older, and Juliano became more and more obsessed with the idea of meeting this higher power, inside he beleived in his heart of hearts that there was something destined for him, something he could do to make the heavens open.

The Calling:
In the historic texts its states in After Era 819 his father passed away from an illness, leaving his entire inheritance to his only son, Juliano, he greived greatly for the loss of his father, but due to his acceptance he slowly allowed his passing to continue, Juliano became the target of wealthy rivals and magic had grown to a peak of high interest, thus many a noble would visit him and try to tempt him into the use of magic.
But the arrogant faith driven Don would refuse them all, and one by one, he began to see just how maddened they were, every noble that had visited him was almost possessed by this new hobby of theirs and it began to worry him greatly.
He then realised what he needed to do, perhaps this was a sign from the three flames, or simply an opertunity, but either way, Juliano took it in his hands to purify the entire continent of Gerandos for a righteous cause.
He searched day and night for the cause that he would fight for, something greater, something he believed to be good in his heart, and when he had searched to the greatest of his effort, he was finally blessed.
The flame of Fervor visited him, according to the text, he was supposed to have seen a vision of a great victory in the name of the Holy Flame, but in exchange, he would have to carry the burdain of war on his shoulders for the rest of his life, and his children, and theirs after him.
Juliano supposedly pondered on his option, then, willingly he accepted this and thus was gifted with the righteous standard of the Holy Flame, a challace surrounded by the three flames. Appeased by what he had been given, he would carry this banner and return home to begin the work of the heavens.

Juliano, Figurehead And Prophet:
Carrying the banner from town to town he spoke of his righteous crusade against the impurity that was magic, he wished to clense it from the nobility and restore their pride and honor, he only desired to bring them back to the grasp of reality, while at the same time, praying that the faith of the Holy Flame might convert them from this evil that tainted their souls.
At first, the weakest of them felt the wrong they had done and began to give up the addiction one by one, for this new faith that would inspire a more passive joy rather than activly dragging them further into obsession. However, things came to a rapid halt when he reached the town of Desparda where he encountered his first hostile threat.
Rather unwelcomed, nobles of this area seemed to now be aware of the fast traveling gossip and had made a firm decision to stand against this new faith. They would have no part in Juliano's new ideal as it was begining to ruin their "fun" as they described it, Juliano silently mocked their fun through the art of prayer, speaking of how corruption can only lead to dispair, some were begining to be swayed by the words but as a desperate act of cowerdance others refused to allow him the pleasure of winning. Thus, the first shot was fired, as an innocent pilgrim was slain by a noblemans hand, an angered and enraged Juliano demanded a reason with aggressive Ferver in his heart. However, the noble simply replied "they are but peasants" and mocked Juliano's faith, he was deeply upset by the actions of the vicious man and in rage drove himself forwards with steed valliantly riding towards the man, the man attempted to stop him but to no avail as he impaled the flag of the flame through the noble's corrupt heart, driving it swiftly from his body as he spat on the floor at the mans evil.
Roaring out a battle cry in the name of the Holy Flame, he rallied many more nobles to his cause and peasants alike, as slowly, his small pilgrimmage became a massive crusade.

The War Begins:
In After Era 821 on the 31st Day, the last of that year, Don Juliano marched to the corrupt city of Cellara, a nation almost compleatly engulfed in nobility, the city gates were opened to Juliano and his men as they traveled freely through them, they would attempt to pacify this city without violence as Juliano demanded to speak with the leader in charge.
A noble, known only as Jaques Moris would meet him on steed as the two glared each other in the eye, Juliano demanded the immediate withdrawal of magic from the city as he was rather unpolitley laughed at by Jaques. Instead of complying, the cunning noble began to sidestep the conversation by debating exactly what it was Juliano was fighting for and why, to what point would a former noble of such high status refuse magic when every other noble was following it, encircling Juliano was a vulture to a corpse, he continued to mock the man with endless gossip untill Juliano sighed and unseathed his sword.
Jaques immediatly stopped and politley invited Juliano and his most trusted consorts to the local Chateu De Moris, willingly, Juliano followed to discuss negociations for peace, however, as the doors were closed, he and his comrades were surprised, as Jaques immediatly ordered their execution.
The room lit up with candles of flame as swordsmen drew weapons and surrounded the men, Juliano angrily demanded the reason for this deception, Jaques simply stated that his revolutionary madness was simply too much of a problem for nobility and thus removing him would become a benefit to both Jaques status and the rest of nobility.
Enraged by this, Juliano vowed that Jaques would not see this years end, as his swordsmen faught hard and viciously against the body guards. The cowardly noble ran into his bedroom as an enraged Juliano charged through the room to discover the cruelty he had been performing on young midwives, his rage grew ever faster, begging him for mercy, Jaques pleaded with the man to spair his life, Juliano now realised what the burdain of war was going to become and so as an act of mercy, he seethed his blade at the pathetic man.
However, Jaques cunningly unseathed a dagger, and as Juliano turned, he stabbed directly for the mans head, but a well prepaired Juliano simply sighed and muttered words of quiet prayer before unseathing his sword again and viciously decapitating the man behind him.
The bell literally rang on that hour, it was new year, the year was now After Era 822, yet he was certainly not having a "happy" new year and thus his resolution for this year would be to clense people like Jaques, offering each of them mercy even if they would show him none in turn, however, if they should reject mercy, they would feel the same fate as this deceptive noble.

The Continent In Flames:
Juliano traveled from villiage to town, from city to nation and from there, to reach the entire continent with victory after victory for his men. Nobles were falling swiftly and his crusade was going well, all seemed to be working as the flame had intended for Juliano, however, something unexpected happened.
Juliano fell heavily ill one day after a long and great battle, known as the battle of Sante Marssa, no one truley knew what happened or why, but he became heavily unwell with fevor and rapidly left fighting alltogether.
Confused by their leaders mysteirous illness, the crusade immediatly began looking for someone who would carry on the work of Juliano in his absense, they had but only one person, an old noble named Reichard Von Oberstein the III. He was not nearly as efficent as his former and heavily lacked the inspiration that his leader gave, but one thing he was capable of, was achieving victory. Reichard was always ahead of the competition in terms of combat, knowing exactly what they would do and how they would do it, as a noble himself, he already knew most of his enemies tactics and thus victories continued to flow. However, his leadership was becoming more and more tyrant like and unlike Juliano who was more forgiving, Reichard was far far more vicious and willing to kill those of impurity than his counterpart. For this reason, he was eventually ordered to meet his ill master for honest concideration of his posstion and status, but as Reichard arrived in After Era 874 he saw the most unusual thing. A young adult who appeared the spitting image of his former leader, gasping with shock he bowed immediatly to this young boy and asked for the forgivness of Juliano.

Chapter 6: Part 2: Saints and Matyr's


Heir To Juliano, Don Fiargo Jerando:
Confused, the boy pondered why Reichard would bow, but respected it and in turn bowed to him, Reichard was now confused, perhaps old age had made the man too hard or senile but either way he slowly came to realisation of who he was speaking to.
The boy introduced himself as Don Fiargo Jerando, the heir of Juliano and expressed that sadly his father had passed away only two years ago. Reichard was struck by both fear and confusion at the same time, he did not know what to do without a leader but saw that a leader had to be placed, and thus he looked to young Fiargo and asked him if he would replace his father. Fiargo expressed he had no experience in combat, but Reichard simply stated he could be taught, terrified but still young, the boy stated he was a heavy doubter of fighting, Reichard again reassured him that it was the best interest of his father and thus must be the best interest of the son.
Fiargo sighed and pondered, could he fill the towering boots his father had created and continue this righteous purgery?, He worried for a moment before bowing his head, lifting it he stated that he would accept the possition that his father had left. Reborn was the banner of the Flame and the carrier who was destined to wield it, yet despite this, he never truley filled his fathers shoes aswell as he had hoped.

The Archon's, Chosen Of The Flame:
During a long an hard reign of warfare, Fiargo suffered equal amounts of victories and defeats due to his lacking compitance, Reichard tolerated his pessimism but many felt he never truley fitted his fathers place. Juliano was far more inspiring and alot less negative when defeated, however, refusing to give in to the words of the peergroup, Don Jerando II worked very hard to replace his father and even when defeated, slowly he began to taste more and more of what victory felt like.
The power of victory was a thrilling sensasion to Fiargo and ambitiously, he decided he would take on the most difficult challange of all, the city of Venus, a grand fortress where the largest of the noble families now recided, House Le Caustes.
The forces of the crusade gathered outside the towering city as they glared up at the battlements, at first, the sight alone was so intimidating it was quite difficult to grasp how hard this fight would be. Yet determined by zeal, Fiargo and his men began their assault, Reichard warned Fiargo this was a daring move and a chance of failure could easily happen at any time given the sheer size of the formidable bastion of power. However, reckless yet willing, Fiargo beleived this would be his test, a chance to do something to impress Reichard and his father before him, and so in his righteous zeal, he prayed, he prayed for a chance, for a power to defeat this foe against even the most impossible odds.
His prayer, was answered, the flame of purity came to visit him before the battle would begin, he and his followers gazed in awe as the flame spoke, it offered him a chance, a chance to accend into something greater, something of true purity, though at the price of humanity. Willingly, he accepted this price and thus he and the entire crusade became, the Archon, a race reborn from their human form, transformed into the most pure of species, of heart, and of ferver.
This power amazed him, Fiargo felt new streingth, Reichard felt far younger than before and with their rage combined, the two men and their army charged at the gates of this formidable fortress.

Sainthood:
Casualties mounted high, and both sides lost many forces, however, a rather unfortunate twist of events occured when Reichard was heavily injured by a volley of arrows, to the shock of Fiargo, he rushed into the fray of arrows and supposedly took seventeen arrows directly in the spine.
Normally, this would have killed a man, but determined, Fiargo desperatley prayed to save his mentor who had been so loyal and kind to him, using the power of his own zeal, he forced his very lifeforce into Reichard as he gazed at his mentor for one final time and smiled, before falling to the floor as a corpse.
Reichard was once again left in charge of a now chaotically lead army, and decided there would only be one choice, to conquer the town and purify it rather than retreat. Now he had outlived two masters, but he would loyally fight on for their names.
After a long and vicious fight, the battle resulted in a heavy won victory, but mysteriously, the Le Caustes family could not be found, it appeared they had deviously escaped the fray in the chaos of the battle. None the less, as a pillar of victory in this city, Reichard revealed the death of young Fiargo as his people were greatly greiving, however, as a memorial to his work, Reichard built a statue in the center of the city of Venus in name of the now sainted Fiargo Jerando, Saint Fiargo, Maytr of Sacrifice.
The work was far from over, but this battle had changed alot and inspired alot more, the fire in the veins of the now faith driven zealots would burn ever onwards as they continued down the path of purity.

The Second Heir, The Female Don:
In After Era 1191 Reichard and his zealots drove ever further into conquering the entire nation, he payed homage to the country of Gerandos to pay respects to his former master. As a result, he went to visit the Jerando manor to encounter a poor peasant girl still cleaning the dusty place, he pondered, and gazed upon her, his withered old eyes saw something in her soft face, the proud face of his first master, Don Juliano Jerando, he asked, if not demanded her name, she replied, Crysabelle Jerando, a simple peasant girl whos family had long lost their prestige amoung the noblility. While she sounded pessimistic, her eyes burned with the fire of a Jerando, she was the true embodiment of her fathers Ferver and determination, she seemed more than willing when Reichard offered her a chance to join the crusade against nobility, not only that, she rushed into the manor, and took out her fathers old armour, wearing it in a perfect fit.
She was almost like a female rebirth of her decendant, however, so many years had passed, how her family survived was beyond him, but he had only assumed she was a distant reletive of the mothers side. It mattered not, she carried the spirit of a firey woman willing to fight for her ferver and her freedom, once again, the Jerando family would rise for the last time.

The Last Crusade:
Crysabelle was unquestioned in her combat, she slew entire regiments alone and even more when in a company, her victories were exactly like that of her great grandfather's, her morale was constantly burning and her violent flame brightly rocketed from one end of the continent to another untill finally the infamous Le Caustes family returned with an army of unnaturally formidable size, lead by Gino Caustes the II they formed an almost formidable force capable of challanging the very crusade that Don Jerando III lead.
The two forces met in After Era 1220 on an unknown plain soon to be given the nickname, Caustes hill, the two forces prepaired an all out assault when suddenly, Gino Caustes the II halted his soldiers and immediatly ordered them to lift a white flag.
Confused, Crysabelle played his game for the time being and went to meet him in the very center of the field where both flags would be placed, there she would ask him for answers and there he would give them to her. Gino Caustes expressed that his family had become rogue, that they had left the idea of the magic nobility long behind and that many nobles had now come to see the truth, this army behind him was an army offering surrender and he was part of it. Confused, but willing to beleive him, she accepted that he was not here to fight and the two armies rallied around the mass of land, as she spoke with him that night.
Gino expressed that he saw through the nobility like she did, he wanted to beleive that there were other ways than magic to rally nobles to their cause, but on mentioning these words, Crysabelle realised that he was simply a noble, speaking of peasants rights and clearly knew nothing of what she meant to fight for or why. Leaving Gino she stated she would continue on her righteous crusade to purify the nation and only when the entire nation was pure would she cease. However, Gino, unwilling to give up on her, forced a kiss, a kiss that would both bless and taint her lips with tradgedy in the future.
Without a second thaught she slapped him across the face and immediatly left the field, going to meet with her ally, Reichard, she concluded that these men were simply agents of corruption and ordered that they would leave this corrupted force to its fate, this was to be her only mistake.

The Final Hour:
After that event, for several months she would continue untill After Era 1221 where she reached the final stand, the last true bastion of nobility, Labella Grande, a national city that reprisented the final stand of the corrupt nobility against the crusade.
She sighed, to the floor below her was the soft grass soon to be run red with the blood of the faithful, to the sky above her would be a blue sky soon to be darkened by clouds that would taint the land. She looked to the city infront of her as she sighed again, in her eyes, now burned the image of the man who kissed her and deep inside she realised that she had cut off her only chance for peace.
It burned her soul, and tainted her ferver but strong she remained as possible it could be, with sword in hand and banner raised high she roared out to her people
"Today I shall sing the song of woe
for freedom at the price of loss
Nights sky will come and snuff the land
our darkest hour, is upon us

Those of you who feel fear and tremble
heed my words and fear no more
today we will share a burdain together
today, we become heroes of war."

This hym was recorded in the historic archives due to to its inspiring speach, that would lead ten hundred thousand lives into chaos and dispair, a truley epic moment that was worthy of the praise of the gods, yet the curse of their tainted stupidity.
None the less, the battle commenced and both sides took a toll heavier than bodycounts can reach, the seige lasted all the way untill the 31st day, when the final battle was about to commence, the seige of the palace.
However, to her shock, the one who had been fighting her all this time was none other than Gino Caustes, the man who had claimed her and tried to sway her. Her soul felt ill just seeing him again and on the side of the enemy, it enraged her, however, Gino was no coward, he faught her like a man of honour, as the two clashed blades feircely, the battle reached a climax when Gino was disarmed, she raised her blade high before she froze. Her eyes gazed upon his, as she felt weak inside, something of an inner emotion controlled her soul, almost mastering her mind as she felt her very willpower wavering, she could not kill him, just like Juliano long before her, this man was still a man worthy of redemption and thus she begged him to surrender.
Arrogantly he smirked, and realised her weakness, he refused to allow a surrender to happen, he forced her, she would have to choose who she favoured more, her faith, or her heart and using this against her, Gino prayed upon her weakness untill eventually she fell onto both knees in a state of helpless sorrow.
Picking up her sword, Gino offered her a chance to end it, a chance to see it dissappear, she closed her eyes, she had lost and now she would die, if it was not for a brave old fool that intervened at the most awkward time possible.
Refusing to see a third master die before him, Reichard rushed infront of Gino as his blade rammed clean through the old Archons chest, the man winced and grinned, stating how Gino had lost, and that the Jerando would never truley surrender to him, he and his kind were nothing more than the embodiment of corruption. Her eyes widened to see her mentor fall before her, he was proud to die as the light in his golden eyes faded for the last time, he smiled at her with the smile of a proud old fool, before colapsing to the floor.
In her rage, she lifted Gino's blade and made a vow that he would not see the next year rise, as the two continued to fight, Gino taunted her, mocking her, she couldnt kill him or so he beleived.
Yet when she disarmed him a second time, she glared into his eyes with the rage of fury, he mocked her stating that her master had died for nothing, since she could not bring herself to killing the one she loved. She roared out a furious howl of anger before ramming the rapier dead through the cowards skull, twisting it inside his brain before lunging it again into his chest.
His eyes widened, as he fell backwards, compleatly dead, she fell forwards and as she did, the bells rang, a new year had risen, yet she was not smileing, yet mourning for the loss of her trainer.
Suddenly, a group of noble guardsmen arrived, as she lifted her sword into the sky, there was no reinfrocements for a near mile and she was left to fight them alone. She smiled one last time and thanked her master for all he had done, to restore her family and their legacy and charged into the fray, one last time.
That was the final hour, where she would die in battle, yet died not invane, as the Jerando family tree had been sliced from its root, an entire nation was finally liberated of corruption as a whole, Gerandos was now free, forever.

Chapter 7: Cultures And Differences, Part 1

This chapter will once again be providing entirley informal information rather than basis of gossip or legends. To be simple, there are many cultures in this mythical world thus I cannot even begin to imagine how many I shall have to write about, for now I shall narrow it down to the major five and their ideals, this will of corse, include each sub-branch of those that have any at all.

Cultures: some sane, some mad, some simply not worth mentioning:
While there are some cultures I simply cannot bring myself to mentioning I shall simply begin with the largest to the smallest, that way if I do by chance mention these "other" cultures it should simply be a coincidence in my writing. This however is of modern and present history thus no historical facts will be presented, simply facts based on how the modern situation is for each factor.

The Largest Faction, The CCCP:
For now I shall begin with the cultures of the CCCP and how their lifestyles normally revolve, thus I shall have explained the most bothersome in size but equally the easiest one to grasp of them all.
The CCCP, have five subcultures, the four nations and the elite branch, these five make a star which unites the groups together, often each ones opinion is almost compleatly differing of the others, rather interestingly, the only thing many CCCP citizens share amoung each other is a lack of morale.

Crimsonia, The Nation Of Pessimists:
The followers of the Crimson Star are often regarded as a low class culture, their entire culture is divided into two classes, the lesser class and the greater class.
The lesser class are otherwise known as the working man, the commoner, and the conscript, no more than simple peasantry, from what I have personally witnessed their lifestyle is attrocious, for example, in the nation of Crimsonia, those who live outside the towering factory cities rarley ever survive very long in the humid wastelands surrounding them. These wastelands are created by a lack of hygine, or care for toxic polution and stretch for entire miles across the cities, eventually leaving on the border edges of the great forest that surrounds Crimsonia. To the misfortune of the lesser class, every lesser class citizen must live in this horridly toxic enviroment, catching all forms of buboic plagues and other horridly undescribeable illnesses such as leperacy or cancerous diseases. These people live in constantly pessimistic lives with almost no housing at all, some of them literally have to live in the toxic waste, resulting quite often in death and while these underpaid, overworked farmhands survive in this fatally grusome enviroment, another group, the greater class, mock them from within the cities.
The greater class are born into nobility, very very rarley is this otherwise, only the most hard working of all CCCP citizens can even hope to buy a home within the walls of the machine cities, within the city however, the tale is not quite far from the same, the toxic waste from within creates an endlessly poisonous gas cloud which surrounds the lower city, while the higher parts are used for living quaters, if the wealthy are fortunate enough, they can buy a home in the higher parts away from the fumes themselves, but this is rarley so.
The cities are surrounded by toweringly long fortress walls made out of thick layers of solid metal, drenched to the teeth in defencive weaponry such as cannons, machineguns, and other forms of long range emplacements attached to the battlements. At a first glance it is truley something impressive, however the people that live behind them do not seem to agree, for within the cities morale is still low, even after inventing such a grand design of such powerful propultion, some cities stretching tens of thousands of feet high and thousands more in width, they still feel underachieved.
This is due to the fact that the entire Crimson Star has no rights of its own, they are ruled, a slave race to the superiour nation of the Hauslands, where their superiours live in gleeful pleasure while these people suffer in horrid pain.
On a military side of life, Crimsonia is a proud civilsation, despite its endlessly forlorn emotions, they constantly use propaganda and across every city you see there will be towering banners of the Crimsonian star with men or daring women charging across trenchlands of evil into freedom, or simply death to the well trained eye. However, they are the most neccicary of the miltary forces of the entire CCCP, given that their numbers are the largest of all five groups combined, their overwhelming masses combined with their genious of powerful inventions such as their towering battle barges and even infamous Crimsonian Dreadnaught, the pride of the CCCP navy, can crumble an entire enemy army with an armarda of power, thus this is why the CCCP still conciders them a formidable ally and uses them to their fullest extent, as a tool.

Jel'aman, The Home Of The Strategists:
Despite its name the Turqoise Tulip is often underestimated for its softness and lacking willpower to fight in combat, the citizens of their small nation while the second smallest in the entire CCCP are the wisest of knowladge, the fastest of travel, and the most clever of strategy.
Unlike Crimsonia for example, Jel'aman has three classes, the commoners, the soldiers and the monarchy, naturally, they work as a chain rather than a seperate group, due to the small numbers of their citizens, they have to work together for mutual survival.
The Aqua Sands of Jel'aman are what strike the eye are interesting, a desertland of pure aqua, not only does it compleatly confuse the eye, but its almost fatal to those without a travel guide, fortunatley, I have Indy, that much secures me the reason I am here to tell you what I have discovered. This oasis could never truley be survived on for more than a few days, if not a day to the very weak traveler, due to the sheer blistering heat and apsoleutly terrifying cold at night, at one point I was almost convinced my ear was going to melt off in daylight or freeze off in night.
However, surpisingly, the denziens of Jel'aman are so well trained to this enviroment they practically learn to travel across it another way, no one truley understands what this way is according to them but it involves hiking through the sand itself, or to be exact from what I saw of a demonstration, burrowing under the sand.
Surpisingly, the sand is only liquid on the top, below the entire sand is so dried out that entire tunnelways have been constructed, the commoners and soldiers use these to travel swiftly between the camp sights outside, I was able to glimpse at one of these camps but only at the safest time, the afternoon, you see, during the noon the winds begin to cool but have not fully reached the coldest point thus they cannot freeze you. However, stay in them to long and you'll soon become a block of ice followed by a molten pile of water the day after, thus I traveled there for two hours exactly, then spent my night under the ground, which was to say the least, rather discomforting.
However, to these sand dwellers there is no problem in discomfort, their almost compleatly used to this enviroment and unlike the Crimsonian's rarley ever seem to show a problem with it. They still amaze me at how they can possibly endure such harsh enviroments and still remain vaguley optimistic about it, but still, this is the peoples of Jel'aman im speaking of, and their wisedom seems to be the source of their optimism, many of them seem to be Aesir, or Greenkin, or Human, rarley do I see many elves amoung this group or any other race for that matter.
I was told by a soldier general I would not be allowed to visit the palace, but form his description it sounds like a rather interesting place, it is modeled out of the very desert itself into the form of a series of onion shaped roofs surrounded by this cultures theme'd veils, it is said to be the only place one can stand on the outside during day and night.
While I was asking away my usual dribble I asked the soldier what kind of weaponry his nation favours, interestingly he showed me a live demonstration rather willingly, as several lightly armoured tanks formed in the underground tunnels with huge cones attached to them, he supposedly called these "drills" he stated that they seem to favour stealth combat above the other groups, and also have a propelled air device known as a helicopter capable of literally vanishing into mid air. I have to say, Jel'aman unlike Crimsonia was a huge experience, and when I finally left by boat for my next destination, I said farewell to the soldier in charge by leaving him my appriciation and a box of iced cream from the land of Kingdon-Caxony.

Chapter 7: Cultures And Differences, Part 2


The Seikoto Cluster, Isle's of Pride:
Unlike my journey at Jel'aman I found myself in yet another mess when Indy was forced to shoot a tropical beast for me, although he didnt seem heavily opposed to the idea, infact, he seemed joyfully happy with this place, it was a jungle, just the kind of place he intended to be for his holiday or so he called it. None the less, Indy was more than willing to help me through this series of beast infested jungle's, quite often leaving a trail of dead beasts behind us, his pet ape seemed happy aswell, plenty of Banana's I suppose.
None the less, we traversed day and night untill one day we heard the most unusual noise, the sound of booming roaring battlecries, Indy was alerted at first but then we finally came across the Golden Fist, the next of our intended targets, I must say, It was almost amazing to spot them, they seemed to have sliced an entire pathway through the jungle, rather than traversing it, they did seem quite reckless at first, although I didnt really pay much attention back then.
I was amazed to see the feirce glare in these armoured warriors eye's, it was a glare of determination, of power, of pride, they were unwilling to yield to anyhting that came infront of them, even if it meant their own deaths, it was almost like seeing a compleate mirror of the Crimsonian people, yet they lacked the cunning or stealth of the people of Jel'aman, these Sekoto people were very proud, stubborn in many ways.
I managed to come into contact with a local platoon lord, he apparently was addressed as the Tsun-Hai Marshal, a rank of high status, according to their heirarchy, there are many classes of system, although this one seemed highly familar to the people of Jel'aman, there was the commoner, otherwise known as the peasant, then there was the soldier class, otherwise known as the fighter, then there was the lord class, otherwise known as the leader.
They seemed to have a compleatly strict method of things, it was almost impossible to speak to the soldiers, thus I tried another method and followed the road onwards to the nearest villiage, there I saw an eyeopener indeed, it was not just any villiage, it was a warrior villiage.
The entire people had a high sense of dicipline, every day they would practice their "martial arts" a training system of strict routeen and dicpline designed to train the body in different ways, according to them there are three arts that they follow, the first is the Jun-Hao, an art of extreme physical dicipline designed to compleatly eradicate spiritual impurities by forcing all the "laziness" or "corruption" out of the body. The second, was the Ki-Dun-Do, a mental training that followed immediatly after Jun-Hao to force the body into a state of relaxed mental agility, keeping the reflexes extremely high while at the same time, compleatly relaxing the muscles in the body, to prepair it for the final martial art, known as Hao-Ling-Su, a technique where the person in question simply screams out a battle cry of endless rage for as long as possible, while enduring the most physical beating ive ever had to witness a person take.
Racially, I saw many humans, greenkin and forgeborne, the forgeborne seem to be concidered a servant race and dont seem to care too heavily for their punishment, then again, I have yet to know a forgeborne that truley cared about anything other than service.
The other thing I noticed was how advanced they were in comparison to the other two, it was amazing to see how their soldiers faught, they seemed to use solar energy pannels draped across their bodies to create powerful solar shields which deflected strikes that would have torn a man clean in two, especially given that the weapons used were also powered by solar energy. This made me realise the reason they had cut paths through the Jungle, to allow the light to seep through although thats what it appeared, it also seemed their vehicles and ships were powered in a similar fassion, they had specialised in very effective weaponry, at a huge price however, numerical inferiority, one thing I had noticed from the start is that there were so few of these people yet what they lacked in number they made up for in being argueably the greatest in morale, dicipline and combat of the CCCP fighters. I would dread to think of the fool who would be stupid enough to challange such great warriors in single combat, none the less, it gave me a great sense of pride simply watching them fight and beat living sense out of each other.
Sadly, it was my time to leave and thus by one of their solar powered boats I headed to my final destination, the Hauslands, the home of the infamous Black Rose, the leaders of the CCCP second only to the White Blossum elite.

The Hauslands, Organised, Too Organised:
I felt an almost eeire naucism, this was not my first time to the Hauslands but that was when I was far far younger and the recent ministry wasnt in charge, one thing you notice about the Hauslands the moment you arrive is the eeire sense of clenliness, everything, is clean, even Indy didnt feel compleatly comfortable around this place.
We bid farewell to our boat and took by car to take a tour of the city, fortunatley, the driver wasnt so bad, although his sense of perfection was rather irritating. He explained that there are no classes in the Hauslands as everyone in them are born directly into nobililty, there is simply a different class of nobility, if I wished to call it that at least.
You only noticed two races in every villiage you passed, Humans and Elves, occasionally, there was a Forgeborn, but you never saw anything that was classed as a half breed, and the man explained perfectly why, because anyone that is concidered a half breed in the Hauslands would be shot on sight. However, if you were human like me and Indy, there was literally nothing to worry about at all, given that Humans were concidered welcome guests in their homeland.
I was given a sense of slightly dull boredom in the Hauslands, one thing you notice for miles and miles on end is plain, plains of grass, rather uneventful, with some occasional fields, and the odd town passing us by, these were no where near as complex as the Crimsonian towns, they were rather simple in design, rather like a pre age of steam town, simple stone wall surrounding a gothic theme'd series of houses, with the occasional motor car passing by or carridge, it was almost as if they lived in a slight regress, although that was simply my mistake, when I arrived in the larger towns, I realised why.
Everyone showed a smile, everyone, the soldiers walked in perfect formations, lead by officers of the ministry, or the five courts, you see one thing that I always remembered about the Hauslands was the leadership, there are two leading noble groups, the first is the ministry of houses, a group of nobles banding together to form a government, however, this government is only a simple democracy that is still dominated by the dictator above the CCCP, yet able to lead the Black Rose freely in exchange.
This confusing system becomes even more complex when you think of the five courts, each court combines to make the Court Of The Hauslands, but each one is divided into a possition of power over the Hauslands, they are as follows, War, Diplomacy, Law, Purity and Prosperity. These five make the entire Hauslands what it is and why it is so organised for that matter, while the Ministry simply reinforces these polecies between themselves and debates what is best for each individual town rather than the entire Hauslands.
Thus there is a very cunningly disguised racial inequality, that while it appears to be the same in truth is simply another version of Crimsonia with less pessimism and more racial purity. One thing I noticed is their technology is quite advanced, it seems as if they have "adpted" rather than used the ideas of their other allies and combined them into one formidable army, creating a deadly but effective military, the second largest of the four nations, they use that numerical superiority, combined with puritan dicipline, combined with wisedom and strategy and their own racial perfection to create a deadly inquisition of modern culture.
I was personally glad to leave, their very lifestyle was so complex for me and Indy we could barley breathe without being concidered hostile invaders, still, given that we were Humans we had nothing to truley worry about, finally we reached a nearby port town and took a boat into neutral territory, this concluded my journey of the CCCP nations, I had seen the poverty of Crimsonia, the optimism of Jel'aman, the Dicipline of the Seikoto and the unnatural perfectionism of the Hauslands and im pretty sure Indy was as glad to leave the last part of this journey as I was.

Chapter 7: Cultures And Differences, Part 3


The Shining Illuminate, A Culture Of Madness:
Of all the things I have seen never as complex have they been untill I saw the Shining Illuminate, you'd think they had compleatly been stripped of sanity, it almost seemed that way given the way they stylised their livleyhoods. Their sickening homeland of Grande-Imperia was to say the least one of the most bizzare places ive ever been in my entire life.
Indy and I traveled to the neutral zone of Fransera where we would travel by Illuminati Carridge to the great city of madness, Cain-Du-Avoc, I could swear that I even saw fear in my companions eyes, then again, who could blame him, the entire place was so complex it would drive anyone into madness.
The city as such is not even a city, its a maze!, from every turn and twisting writhing inch of land you saw was almost alive, the very flaw occasionally creeked open as our carridge would become swallowed by fetidly deformed mouthes forming and devouring us as we were transported into the Shining Mansion itself, a towering hundred foot tall, by twohundred foot long palace of chaotic energy.
It was a nightmare to even walk, the very ground seemed to move, I stepped on the very marble as I could almost feel it eating my foot, or licking it to say the very least, shapes, warped statues of humanoid form appeared from the very marble with horrid decrepit faces, it was like entering a compleatly defiled cathederal. The swimming pool which stretched upon miles upon miles was filled to the teeth, well, when I say teeth i mean literally speaking than anything else, with nobility, you could see them partying away as if it meant nothing, Daemoniacs, Humans, many other races all joining into this massive orgy of madness with not a care in the world, it was only when I looked deeply enough into their eyes I noticed how little sanity remained in them.
Arriving in the mansion it was as if I had entered a new world, it looked big on the outside alone but once I went inside it was a giant ball room, a ballroom where men and women flew in dance, spinning away as the very walls opened and shut, I could swear from time to time that the walls would literally "devour" a person and no one would give a care in the world.
I tried to speak with one of them but he seemed so drunk and disorderly it was impossible to get any valued information out of him, so I decided to meet with the current Host in charge of the party. The only thing I understood was the Hierarchy of this madness, according to the system, there is the gentry, the nobility, the royalty and the host, each time a party is formed the host invites all of the guests he or she can find and challanges them silently. This challange is used in the form of a deception, dancing, having fun, getting drunk, or dreary with obsession with magic, either way, the point of it is to destroy the competition and take over the manor, by the time the night is over, there would probably be five or six young fools dead each time, but this was the capital, goodness knows how many imbaciles were horridly killed in this place a day.
The point of their culture is inheritance, to a noble of the shining illuminate, killing the other means aquiring their inheritance and the more you have, the higher a possition of power you have, untill eventually your the last one standing, its almost like a game of trickery, ultimatley, the most cunning noble will eventually become the only noble left.
However, they should never be underestimated, behind all this madness, was an eeire tranquil status, almost like they had planned everything out, knew exactly what to do and it wasnt exactly composed of a simple killing spree either. Often nobles will rally together, to form great hunts or large parties of gentry regiments to attack local towns or corrupt them into the illuminates idealism, interestingly, they never seemed to express hatred towards each other, or perhaps that was my lack of eyesight given that it was after all, all about deception.
None the less, that place was a madhouse, the very moment I stepped foot inside there I realised how much I missed the sane world, it was not long before a carridge arrived and me and Indy would leave for our next destination, thankfully we would be rid of this insanity and hopefully never have to set eyes on it again.
Thus it is my conclusion that The Shining Illuminate is nothing more than a culture of compleate madness, never again do I desire to set my eyes upon something so unnaturally insane. The wondering mazes of rooms, the fact that the moment I stepped inside the building I instantly lost controll of my feet and floated towards a gaping mouth in the roof, the very concept of getting addicted to magic, I pray never again to see that place for the rest of my happily miserable days as a boring old man.
The further we left, the more I saw how badly the land had been ravaged, the fields were almost mutated in horrid ways, the very windows of mansions glowed with eeire multi coloured lights exiting each building, the very sky flickered with lights of vibrant colours, sometimes it appeared almost angelic, others it almost looked compleatly defiled and demonic.
Finally, we arrived at the port city of Crusois where Indy and I almost embraced each other thanking the gods we had left that madness, finally, we continued onwards onto one of the Shining Illuminate boats, it was then I realised that the technology of these people was somewhat lacking in comparison to the CCCP for example, they seemed to live in the first age of steam, still using gunpowder technology instead of modernising. Perhaps they had been imprisoned in this state, or perhaps the fact that they cared more for magic than anything else was probably the true reason, given the choice the latter is more logical, despite their entire culture having almost no logic at all.
We finally set sail for our next intended desitnation as we traveled to the free nation of Gerandos a far more welcoming sight.

Chapter 7: Cultures And Differences, Part 4


Gerandos, Home Of The Flame:
Leaving the madness behind we set off onto the plains of Rolande, a long but rather dull neutral zone with no truley spectacular features, Rolande is rather noteable for its farms, it had alot of them, too many of them, I began to wonder if the entire of Rolande was made of farms.
None the less, finally passing that small nation we crossed over into the borders of New-Caxony, a nation founded by explorers from the nation of Kingdon-Caxony, however, not to be mistaken for the same place, it was rather well built for that matter. Long roadways, bridges, traveling through stonewalled towns, it was quite a tranquil trip, to the depression of Indy who seemed more than ready to kill something.
Finally we left New-Caxony and onwards into the borderlands of Gerandos, now the thing that strikes an eye opener in this place is how different it is from Grande-Imperia, you almost see a compleate mirror, I think even Indy was awe inspired for a time. The very air felt peaceful, I have to say, ive never truley felt at tranquility as much as I have in that land, it was a dramatic difference that had changed me at this point, but I enjoyed it, the heavenly grass alone was enough to bring a tear to the eye.
To a newcommer, this would almost feel like dying and heading to a place of the most pure tranquility, nothing was disturbing, it was all to gentle and calm for such things, above us, the bright golden sun gleamed down while the grass below us was lit up by its warming kiss, you could see how soft this place was just by observing nature working its best.
Finally, we arrived at the city of Venus, now long changed since the Caustes lived there, the statue of Saint Fiargo still remained to this day and it was quite an eye opener.
You got the impression the moment that you entered this place that there was little racial hatred, although it seemed intolerant of corruption, there was peace, the culture seemed to be adapting everyone else into their religious nation willingly allowing them inside, they had after all no shortage of space.
One thing I noticed was that class was almost devoid in this place, you didnt truley get higher and lower ranks, simply different ranks of the same commoner, even the military treated everyone else with a great amount of respect and kindness.
I spoke with one of the clergymen to understand their cultures motives and way, and thus he spoke to me, he told me that the entire of Gerandos was a nation of religion, spiritually following the three flames always, yet they would also be a nation of peace, respect and even try to be a nation of equal opertunity for all. It seemed like a rather large farce given the way he preached it to be, but I could tell there was a great deal of truth in his words, I had seen it first hand, perhaps nations truley could become united under one banner.
He told me that the culture consisted of several routeen's that were followed as a penetance to the flame, the first, was prayer, every morning they would pray to the three flames for things of good to happen in the world, then, they would spend the rest of the morning aiding others, you always noticed that help was a call away, Indy felt a little uncomfortable at the tranquility, it wasnt really his idea of fun given that his trigger finger was itchy for the hunt.
We took entrence into one of the local chapels to speak with the orders military, and thus using this we assesed their military streingth, unfortunatley it seemed they had one huge flaw in their peace, underpowered technology, these people's equipment was so old in combat terms that they'd probably be no match at all for some of the more superiour technologically powerful groups in this world, however, I had underestimated their full potency as they showed me first hand what the power of zeal is capable of in terms of power.
I was amazed at the result, a man who had been injured in battle could be healed of even the most fatal wound, with effort and prayer, however, you noticed the huge physical strain and mental toll it took upon the wielder to concentrate so heavily on healing their comrade, it was unusual to say the least, but interesting to watch. You could feel the very tranquility of zeal resonating through the room as the healing was occuring and it, opened my very mind to something I had never truley concidered before, can spiritual faiths truley be material, part of this was what inspired me to write this archive in the first place.
Sadly, our peaceful trip was soon to end as we bid our hosts farewell, Indy, though irritated by the lack of combat, seemed a tad more inspired than usual, I suppose this is the effect the tranquility had on him rather than myself, as we headed onwards, our next stop would be the port city of Ophela-Lacusto. Finally, aboard the nearest boat, a slightly underteched but efficent wooden boat we traveled a very very long distance across the sea to the nation of Celestia, where we would head to our next destination, the island home of NORD.
The trip had been inspiring, but it had been more than worth it, as we waved a final farewell to this place, I concluded that long after I wrote this archive, I would settle and live there for the rest of my days, no doubt Indy had another area in mind if he wanted to settle at all, but for now, I waved a final farewell and shead a small tear, it was sad to see it go, but it was neccicary to continue our long Journey.

Chapter 7: Cultures And Differences, Part 5


The Dark Zone, The Silent HQ:
I would warn you that entering a NORD area is harder than trying to find your way through the desert of Kaime without a map, it was a living nightmare to get there, but I suppose it was worth the effort in the end, none the less, our tale begins where the last one ended.
We arrived in Celestia, we paused a moment to spend some time with the Celestian Front, a small minor faction in this effort who ruled the tiny nation of Celestia, and its City. Beleive me when I say it is not easy to pass from Celestia into the borderlands, but once you manage to evade most patrolls you eventually find yourselves in the cold land of Cyrena, a cold grassland yet more than inhabitable, although the breeze is certainly not welcoming, far to chilling and uncomfortable, we headed south from that point onwards by horse untill we reached the deep forestland of Kermig, its not the most welcoming place, but Indy was more excited than a wild Vulcar, we proceeded into these unwelcoming woods with my bodyguard carrying several dead beasts over his shoulders, I could tell he was almost overjoyed about being here, the look of smugness mixed with pride gleemed from that pair of sideburns.
We headed onwards onto the next more dangerous part of the area where we met some of the most feirce wild beasts, Indy even struggled at one point against the infamously rare Gargantuan Krockadon, a giant reptilian beast which practically ate him, whole, to his fortune, he blew it apart from the inside and gleefully tore out a tooth claiming he'd add that to his collection, no idea what he meant by that but I wouldnt ask either.
Finally we spotted what we were looking for, the unusually highly advanced camp known only as Freezone Three, there are only three areas you can access the NORD homeland from and this to our fortune was one of them.
In all my life I have never sworn so much at the concept of using that blasted contraption, their infamous gyrobeem jet, using a laser technology, the aeroplane would fly along a beemline which would tenfold its speed velocity. I almost felt my head impale to the seat I sat in as it flew, the speed was purley unnatural and sheerly made out of the most powerful technology known to humanoid kind. Still, it was certainly impressive, we literally made our trip in a matter of minuates, by the time we had landed only a whole ten minuates had passed, crossing three nations before we arrived in the jungle of Kitsudei, otherwise known as The Dark Zone, this is because while in this zone, the technology of the NORD agents creates a stealth field preventing anyone knowing of their existance in the area, well that isnt going to last forever, especially after people get their hands on this archive.
Although even if they did, the sheer number of invisible defences would tear you apart before you managed to enter, NORD HQ is more tightly sealed than the vaults of Derkov and thats saying something. Arriving in The Dark Zone, I was given an opertunity to tour NORD Military Command, although not the secretive training areas, for obvious reasons, I accepted the offer and was taken to a swift moving car, they called it a Jeep apparently or as the woman said an "F-A-V" or Fast Assault Vehicle.
We traveled through the deep jungle terrain in a rather uncomforting way, those vehicles are not built for pleasure that much I was certain about, however, they were to say the least, as fast as they were stated to be.
We finally arrived at the Military Headquaters before I was able to ask the Officer for a guided tour on how their culture works, they didnt necicarily have a culture she replied, simply a collection of miltary specialists. You see, NORD is not a civilisation like the other groups, rather a simple organisation, it has no civilians, only one home land which has been converted into a giant military base, NORD does not enjoy leaking things like this to the outside public and id probably be dead by the time this archive is realised, but they do work for the public, so it seems a tad ironic.
According to them, their values if you will are to serve, to serve at a price, but to aid in the stability of things, unlike the other factions they are more silent and regard direct combat as an option only for heavy duty operations. Rarley do they ever perform such missions and the largest majority of their forces appear only when such missions are active, NORD however specialises in finding the best of the best, you will notice that every soldier in NORD is extremely well trained, though I didnt see any Klovis, Archons or Daemoniacs, I noticed alot of Aesir and I mean alot. These people seem to be unbeleiveably physically adapted, they seemed even more diciplined than the Seikoto in their method, at least the Seikoto actually had breaks, it seemed that NORD agents worked through extreme survival corses, much to the pleasure of Indy who was even given a chance to try one out. Despite silently mocking NORD as a group of panzies he approved highly of their training, mostly because it was his idea of training, survival of the fittest, between man and beast, according to NORD training regeme, the earliest recruits have to endure the worst kind of survival hell possibile before they are emitted, or killed in the process, only the greatest will make it through by teamwork, but mostly working alone, NORD seems to specialise in isolating their people from society and often each other.
The technology was extremely advanced, the dicipline was so high I could barley even move a milimetre before being suspected of suspicious activity, you had to be extremely careful in NORD since even the slightest attempt to do something suspicious resulted in an instant fatality.
Well, it was a harsh experience but a worthy one, Indy having had the best time of his life sadly was not able to join NORD as we had to continue, but he stated that perhaps in future he would like to become a drill sergant for their army, notably because I saw the glee on his face at the concept of beating the newcommers senseless untill they did something correct.
Still, we packed our bags and climbed aboard our next Gyrobeem jet as we prepaired for yet another uncomfortable takeoff, to the final destination, as I left NORD HQ, I personally felt that I had nothing to loose from leaving, it was a military headquaters like any other, there was nothing truley that special about it, although the survival training was to Indy's pleasure, I simply didnt find much interesting at all, still, there was hope in our trip to the final destination, the Azure Isle and thus I held my head high pondering what I would find there and how the people would be in comparison to the cultures I had met before now.
It was going to be a long journey, as we arrived in Free Zone One, we climbed out and made our way by horse across the borderland of Borsha, currently under a huge assault by the five armies combined, we had to hurry before the largest of the military groups arrived and so we did, finally reaching the port city of Grundir we prepaired to travel by boat and finally, leaving the combat zone, we headed onwards to our final voyage.

Chapter 7: Cultures And Differences, Part 6


The Azure Templar, And The Three Branches:
We took our trip by boat quite seriously, notably because it was cold, and the further we went, the colder it became, untill it was so cold that we ended up having to stay inside, Indy did not approve, I, did not approve, hopefully the trip would be worth this effort we had to make to get here.
To say the least, it was confusing, when we finally arrived at the port of Irekurg we immediatly set out in the apsoleutly ferocious blizzards of Azure Isle, you could die in blizzards like that simply by sleeping in them, fortunatley, we had come heavily prepaired for such an incident. Indy braught his famous warming tent, impressivly, it kept is warm, even in the ferally wild blizzards, we slept at peace that night, however, as morning arrived, we discovered we had to shovel ourselves out of the tent due to the fact that at least two inches of snow had piled ontop of it, to say the least, it was not comforting. Next our journey got even more complicated as we found that the snow from yesterday was infact very light, to put it bluntly, one wrong step and you found yourself in six inches of snow which was next to fatal at the temperature, fortunatley we never encountered this and that is why we are still alive to tell the tale.
Finally we arrived at the surpisingly untouched winter town known as Skyfrost Villiage, although I found it a tad large for a villiage I suppose I could see why it was named thus.

The Darkbane, Religious Fanatics With Big Guns:
Dont underestimate what you see in the Templar, behind the rabble that is the mercinary their entire culture is divided into three, groups, each group is lead by the Tetriach of that group and his or her vice tetriachs, they run on a very complex hierarchy despite the fact that their divided into three units, these Tetriachs unite all three groups into one, which ive come to realise is by force, not choice.
You see, the first of these three groups are what you might call the more zealious fanatic veriation of the Order Of The Holy Flame, well rather, they're not even chivilrious, their known as the Darkbane, a group of religious fanatics that serve "The Righteous One" a spiritual god who supposedly brings zeal to them by acts of divine fury, unlike the Order Of The Holy Flame who beleive in healing and pacifying, these puritans beleive in forceful change and fanatic conquest over all beings untill everyone worships their ideal, personally, not my cup of tea.
Still, as a culture, you notice nothing irregular about them, they seem piously well trained, perhaps even too well trained and interestingly, they always carry technology aswell, they state that the righteous one does not restrict their use of technology as the entire point of the righteous one's conquest is to conquer all beings and ultimatley rule them under the tyrant hand of judgement. I could go on of the many preachings I heard yelled down my ear all day but id rather not, after all, this isnt just about the Darkbane but the other two aswell, however, notably, the military of the Darkbane was efficently huger than the others, entire leigons of mercinaries gathered to join them, to summerise, these were simply cannonfodder in the Darkbanes righteous conquest for fanatic controll over all beings, do gooder heroes who foolishly beleived they were being lead into a cause of honor or glory, in truth, they were simply being lead to their deaths for this "righteous one" they keep praying so madly to.

The Shadowbranch, Stealthy, Always Behind You:
Its highly disturbing to move on from the Darkbane society when you think of the other two groups, immediatly I was encountered by the most unusual person, a man wearing a compleatly stylish suit known as a Tuxedo, he apparently claimed to be a member of the Shadowbranch, offering me a tour of their work, unfortunatley, I, a gullible old man followed him not to realise he had deceived me compleatly, you see the Shadowbranch to the common eye are almost a mirror image of organsation NORD, very stealthy and subtle, yet they do have one principle difference in their code, they do, not, kill which striked me as odd concidering the amount of equipment they had and the sheer destructive firepower they were capable of. I noticed the Shadowbranch was numerically inferior to the Darkbane by a long shot, it was no more than an office building, perhaps three, within their massive underground complex, Azure HQ, a maze of industrial buildings stretching for miles deep. I came to realise that the Shadowbranch were very secretive, despite being shown a guided tour, it was as if I was going through a ballroom that had no decorations on it at all, or at least I couldnt see them even if I tried, I realised that the technology they had was immesurably impressive, for example, one device known as the teleportation engine was demonstrated infront of me, its a divice the Shadowbranch use to swiftly move from one point to another through the use of "cell conversion."
The teleportation engine wasnt the only thing that interested me though, they had devices very similar to every other nation I had seen before, it was as if they had scavanged the best peices of technology from each group and made great peices of equipment origionally from cliches, ironic, yet interesting.
Indy was compleatly dumbstruck to say the least, I think it was far too much for his combat hardened mind to take in, but I beleive he grasped some of it, such as the big fancy guns and the shiny peices of impressive "kit" they called them.
When we finally left the tour we realised we had only seen so little of the Shadowbranch, perhaps it was due to their secrecy of nature, or perhaps they simply didnt want us to see alot at all.

The Lightslayers, Known For Their Cruelty:
The third tour was rather unkind to me, I felt rather like I was going to vomit, I think even Indy was somewhat distort from what he saw, the Lightslayers acolytes were horridly warped by the powers of the warping essense, however, it seemed they were almost the less party going version of the shining illuminate, while they had no gods, they were simply sadistic, cruel, almost sickening to behold the acts that took place there. Survival was another thing that interested me, unlike the other two that had some minor value on how many men lived, the Lightslayers took a surpisingly high value on how many soldiers survived, perhaps it was due to them being the middle group of the three in numerical superiourity, higher than the Shadowbranch, but lower, than the Darkbane, or perhaps it was out of a desire to impress their leaders, regardless, they saw survival as neccicary and notably the training was brutal.
You could see bloodstains everywhere you went, uncleaned toxins spilled across the floor as you saw the occasional tamer handling some kind of mutated beast as the result of magical tampering, it was somewhat saddening to see the creatures, it definatly disturbed Indy who seemed more interested in the natural things of nature.
When we continued, we noticed that they took a high interest in magic more than anything, their technology was somewhat dangerous too, toxic poisons they called "biochemicals" and weapons of warfare capable of causing mass civilian casualties but also crippling military streingth. They speak of survival, but in truth, they probably wouldnt hesitate to end most of the population if it wasnt for the other two sub factions interveneing.

Silver Company, Regiment Of Hope:
As we finally left the Lightslayers, we beleived it to be the end, yet there was still a special division we had not yet met, according to legend, some names were mentioned, Karlous, Remnai, Keyna, Malrik, Selinara, Abidas, so many many more, it stated that these names had gone to fight in the border war, between the CCCP and The Azure Templar, in a hope to defeat the great and infamous Mordred Loreson himself, well I wish them luck, ive heard of having a death wish but they clearly have a very, very, large, death wish.
They were nicknamed the Silver Company, veterains from all three branches sent on an exploration to literally hunt mordred and the white blossum elite, I have no idea how well they have progressed, but we can only hope they have done something, come to think of it, I havent heard much about that General Lazarus fellow on the news latley, still, he was a bit of an uptight pompus, ah forget it, writing such vulgar insults in an archive isnt even worth the effort.

Homebound, Finally, Journies End:
It had been a long road from Crimsonia to Azure Isle and stupidly enough, the two were practically next door, thus I should have simply gone the normal way, oh well, it was fun, now I shall return to my homeland of Kingdon-Caxony, where I shall devour every last crumpet and drink every last cup of ginger tea I can get my hands on, and im entirley sure Indy will do the same, he does seem a little home sick, still, im sure his magesty King Arnold Pompadome Ulrich the III, otherwise known as King Arny, will be missing us both greatly and awaiting his long overdue report from intelegence headquaters, still, im sure he can wait a little bit longer, while me and Indy share some ginger tea together on the trip home.
Perhaps a few weeks accidentally lost in New-Caxony, accidently encountering two fine New-Caxonian women and accidently discovering a New-Caxony manor we could accidently live in for the rest of our accidental lives.
Perhaps, that is, perhaps...