Saii

A matter of timing After a fast interrogation, the Centaurs who held Salia broke with tradition and, rather than kill the Satyr, placed him in a nearby tree for safekeeping. He had a perfect view of the battlefield, though he was unable to take part, which seemed to him a step up from execution. He still didn't understand why the Centaur assassins had turned themselves over to Folis and now fought alongside him, but was thoroughly glad they had. He watched the battlefield, drinking in sights, sounds and smells for the song he would sing once the battle was past. The Dreagoni, Dwarves and Wizards held ground directly in front of the Kamara pass, forming deep ranks to absorb the impact of the Ogre-led first charge of Selain's forces. At the two bridges, Centaurs had finished their preparations and stood, grim faced to wait and see whether their Satyr allies would make it across the bridge before 500 Orchan could get there first and ruin Folis' plan. To the East, there was still no sign of Aluwen's Elves. In the South gathered the armies of Selain, moving now to finish this war before a lack of food (and Selain's drugs) could weaken them.

The voices grew clearer. "...take you to see Seiro." The name clicked in Stalium's mind. Seiro was a name that had trickled down between the Centaur refugees. He was a particularly powerful Orchan lieutenant in Selain's army, and had taken apart the powerful Hersal tribe with a combination of brilliant tactics and superior intelligence gathering. While Seiro himself wasn't known for being particularly vicious, his troops were renowned for their brutality. They wouldn't be kind to the runaway Centaur, and would certainly extract the whereabouts of the caravan. Stalium couldn't allow that, they wouldn't be close enough to the docks yet to escape. He came to a decision... He would have to kill the Centaur, possibly at the cost of his own life, if the others were to make it to the ships.

Ahead of him, in the near dark rose an enormous dark shape, crowned with yellow, flickering lights. The lights outlined a wooded hill, sloping gently into the sky. He could smell the earthy, salty odour of Orchans all around, and stopped for a moment to bind his feet with cloth, to deaden the sound of his hooves on the loose earth. He was worried for his quarry, whose own smell was now just a few dozen yards ahead. He had not seen the ribbon of a warrior or the purple of a master hunter as they passed him, so they would have little expertise in staying quiet now they were in the thick of it. He thanked Centau for the poor smell of half-humans, some of whom stood mere feet away as he passed with the bare rustle of a mouse. The centaur he pursued however was not so lucky. Ahead of him he heard raised, gruff voices and the muffled tones of a Centaur talking back. He crept nearer, but couldn't see what was going on.

All of a sudden they caught up with him as he tried to recover enough to bring his weapon to bear, and their swords met his throat. For a moment, nobody moved. The first Centaur, his face mottled by the red marks of torture, looked at him shamefaced. "We're sorry Folis, Selain has our families." Folis looked at them in astonishment, dumbfounded. No-one else had had time to move. He could see the muscles rippling in their arms with crystal clarity as they tensed to strike. "-Stop, my children-" The voice came from Folis' mouth but it was not him. Both would-be assassins grew still as it spoke, their muscles relaxing involuntarily. "-This one is my own, you shall not touch him-" Every Centaur, without quite knowing why, stepped back from Folis and lowered their weapons. "-He shall lead you all to victory over Mortos... To revenge-" The Centaurs whispered vengeance under their breath, and Folis' assailants with them. "-The enemy come-"

He should have given up early on in the chase, let the idiot run on into the great unknown and returned to his post. But Stalium was, as much as his charge, running. The torque weighed heavily on his neck. He had responsiblity for the entire tribe resting on him, a task and a binding chain on his life that no Centaur should feel. The old princes perhaps would have handled it with more equanimity, with composure and discipline, but Stalium was frightened. He was used to command, to ruling a tribe of loose-fitting clans stretched across the plains, with minimal allegiance or dependance on him. But what he ruled over now was all that was left, and they needed discipline - a leader who could take on that burden without hesitation or fear. So he ran, supposedly in pursuit, but equally, in denial of his responsibilities.

The two Centaurs looked at each other and the people standing around, clearly gauging something. "You are Folis?" He nodded. "Yes now answer my question." They didn't reply, but stood still for a moment, tensed. Folis grew impatient. "Who are you? What are your..." Both of them sprang at once. Drawing short-swords from under their cloaks, they lunged together at Folis' unprotected chest, drawing a thin smear of blood as he threw himself out of the way, and following him with a determined look in their eyes.

The second of the two bowed slightly before replying. He looked tired and haggard, his fur tousled and unkempt. His eyes shifted from side to side, haunted and sunken. "We are spies working for Glydoc. We heard this runt mentioning a Centaur named Folis, and got him away from the people interrogating him as he was about to reveal details of your military movements." Folis frowned. "You've come to the right place, I am Folis. But how did you get away from the force at the gates with a traitor in your custody?"

Narus The Centaur was quick, very quick. Stalium gasped as his aging lungs hauled in barely enough air to feed his limbs. He was no longer able to shout, and instead concentrated on keeping up. They ran for hours, through the evening and into a dark and cloudy night. The long grass began to whip at Stalium's sweat-drenched haunches, and he lost sight of his target altogether, finding his way by the smell they left in the air.

In front of him Folis was having a little more success, cuffing the less aware of his charges before they began to wander. Far to the East, Geldit bellowed loudly, but his mere presence was enough to keep stragglers in line. Stalium had chosen him specifically because of this invaluable trait. Marum was having a great deal more trouble at the front of the caravan, as the most rowdy and undisciplined types always seemed to congregate there, but was just about keeping order with his soft, calming language, backed up by vicious reprisals to anyone who stepped out of line. Stalium began to trot back to his charges, but noticed a single Centaur who had broken from the group and was charging past a little way from him. He sighed and ran in pursuit after the retreating figure.

A bare five feet of clear ground lay between the two barriers, and it was through this that a Centaur sentry spotted two figures moving towards them. Folis was quickly informed as he inspected the banks of the river to check for ambush spots, and he trotted over to the bridge, bemused. In front of him was an unlikely scene. Two worn-out looking Centaurs were carrying between them the unconscious body of Salia, who was gagged and bound. It looked as though he had put up a struggle. One of the new arrivals spoke as several defenders gathered round to watch. "Are you Folis?" Folis glared at them suspiciously. "Who are you?"

Folis reached the first bridge, which already sagged slightly as supports were removed and discarded in what amounted to a massive game of pick-up-sticks, and crossed over to the area around the second bridge to check on its defences. It would be difficult. The bridge was wide and the bank not far enough away, so the enemy would be able to both march across en masse and have supporting archer fire, something he couldn't counter as only the bare 200 Centaur carried bows, most of which were broken or had no arrows left. Across the centre of the bridge, two large vegetable carts were rolled into place to provide at least some protection from the onslaught, and any rocks to be found were piled inside to make them heavier. Any spare pieces of dry cloth - some ripped from the bodies of the dead - were laid just beneath the carts, and the wheels were removed. It was a pathetic attempt at a barrier but what Folis needed above all else was to find some time for his allies to the North.

Beneath his feet he could feel the waving of the long grass, tickling his legs and reminding him of his itch... To run... To change... To begin anew in a different place... He could see the horizon stretching forever in front of him... Just waiting to be caught and released as a child would a firefly. He trotted a few paces towards that ever-present promise, then with an effort of will turned around to check where everyone was. They continued to trek Westward, perhaps half a mile away from where he stood. This was ever the curse of the Centaur, inherited from their mad old God Even as he watched a dozen mares and their foals broke from the caravan, galloping as though they were trying to escape. Behind them ran a black-ribboned warrior, calling them back fruitlessly. Stalium shook his head in sorrow. They weren't running through fear, but because they couldn't quite overcome their instincts any more. They wouldn't be the last to run.

K I've done a quick cut and paste exercise and come up with this, which is the B.G.A timeline with supporting material. Issues raised include: *Gnomes need a proper background (probly but not necessarily based on what I've got down from various sources) *Dreagoni history needs sorting, when did Iringold spawn em for example (A quick thought, if I got rid of Dreagon and instead we had Iringold, could he have hidden, then later reappeared as Glydoc to 'adopt' his own race?) *Satyr's destruction needs to be done. --------------------------------- 1st Age Stories & Events: The Age of Power (B.G.A = Before Great Agreement) Approx. 6,000 B.G.A Creation of the World (Unknown) <Elven Legend> Their legends speak of six Gods, different in form as in thought, who for time without end had debated existence and reason. Endless conversations resolved only in an agreement that their first purpose should be creation - the making of a world in which to ground their theories and test assumptions. They began in harmony, placing the ground beneath and the sky above, giving boundaries to the perception of all who would live there. They created inert plant and active animal, to provide the concept of time both moving and still. They created Sea, Sun and Moon, to balance the smallness of things with a greatness of concept. Hume was first to depart from this great unity she and the others had shared. She grew tired of trees and animals, feeling that something lacked from this green and verdant land. She began to experiment. Stones and metals were crushed, mixed and heated to create new and immovable hybrids. Hume found after constant experiment a concept she regarded as an improvement over the vague stillness of root and branch. Dvar was the second of the Gods to follow this route, though he was more careful in his experiments. His love of permanence was linked inextricably to a respect for the early creations it came from, and he worked hard to make everything worthy of that beauty. His work in metal and stone was vastly more intricate than the efforts of Hume, which is reflected in the craft of his race. Dvar too eventually turned away from the early creations of tree and animal. As the excellence and sturdiness of his work improved he became increasingly obsessed with it; unwilling to participate in sterile debates with the other Gods. He and his race became ever more immured in the comfort of their own creations and homes. Aluwen was the most stubborn God. She and her race never took to the ways of Hume and Dvar, and she instead became enamoured with nature in all its brevity. She gave her race long life so they might study it the better, and dedicated her time to watching the first of the God's creations. Dreagon dreamt very differently from the others. He came to believe that permanence was desirable, but only because it allowed him to watch his own tribe - his own mind - more closely. Dreagon found within himself fascinations others sought in the world around them, and these were the strengths of the soul. Satyr like Centau was a true believer in change, though her belief did not translate itself into such madness as his. She instead found sound to be a far greater source of plurality, and cherished the beauty of music. Like Aluwen, she loved the leaves and animals, and so sought to complement them with beautiful sounds. Centau hated all suggestion of permanence, and found the attempts of Hume and Dvar to create it incomprehensible. Instead he sought endlessly for change, believing it his only means of finding solution to the endless nothingness he came from. Centau roamed the world he and the other Gods had created, running endlessly and glorying in endless mutation. There was one more God, and he disagreed from the start with creation. Mortos fought against the other five, tearing down sky and earth even as it came into being. He was horrified by life and death, change and permanence, and wished it all away. For time beyond comprehension he fought the others, destroying their thoughts and feeding their fears. Approx. 5,500 B.G.A Dragons created (Kayliana) <Dreagoni Legend ?> In the beginning, the great goddess Aluwen cherished all life as she does now. The world had always been a beautiful place, but Aluwen felt something was missing. Thus it was that she created the first sentient being to roam Eternal-Lands, the Dragon. This Dragon was a gorgeous creature, shaped by Aluwen with large majestic wings and a graceful body. The Dragon was mainly white, but was touched by every color in varying ways. Reds, blues, greens, purples, oranges...Aluwen blessed her with the name Tiral, which means "All Colors". From Tiral, three children were born. The first was the son Kerzhrikahr, whose name means "Colorless One", for Kerzhrikahr was born Black. So it was that Tiral, the All-Mother, decided that it would be Black Dragons who would rule over her descendants, for Kerzhrikar was kind and knowledgeable of all creatures. The second child was a daughter, colored a molten gold. Her name was Trishnisa, which means "Of the Sun", for the light glinting off her scales was both beautiful and blinding. The third child was another son by the name Iringold, who went on to spawn the race of the Draegoni. Having always been creatures of Order, the Dragons soon formed a Grand Dragon Council. The Council was formed in order to provide justice and knowledge to every Dragon who was able and willing to attend. A beautiful palace of marble was constructed and dedicated to the All-Mother, Tiral, who looked upon her children’s work and was pleased. Tiral was gifted with Eternal life, though she remained hidden, watching her beloved children as they learned of the world and the creatures in it. As the three began to understand and to further reason, other races began to emerge. Approx. 5,450 B.G.A Elves created (Saii, Kayliana) <Elven legend> Aluwen gave her second race long life so they might study the God's earlyest works the better. As her race began to crave independence, their gathering wisdom and the influence of Aluwen gave them a deep love of everything that lives. They over all the other races give most thanks to their God, appreciating the great beauty of the world they have been given. Approx. 5,300 B.G.A Dwarves created (Saii, Kayliana) <Elven Legend> Dwarves were to follow, the sons of Dvar, with tough, sturdy bodies and a love of the darkness and gems from the earth. Over time Dvar and his race became ever more immured in the comfort of their own creations and homes. As the race of Dwarves gained their own voice, and took to the eating of flesh, they became isolationists and master craftsmen. Approx. 5,200 B.G.A Humans created (Saii, Kayliana) <Dreagoni Legend> Hume created the fourth race of Humanity, a people not blessed with long lives but given the ability to choose whatever may fancy them, and gifted with a wonderful imagination. Her race were the first to fashion buildings from the deaths of other creatures, cutting down trees to fashion new more permanent things. They began to kill animals and use their furs, and began to eat to sustain themselves. No longer did they live and die as their god willed, but survived beyond her design, drawing on the goodness of the God's other creations to replenish themselves. They became ever more independent of their mistress, but kept their love of buildings and permanence. 5,200 – 5,000 B.G.A Other races created (Saii, Kayliana, Arafin, Sam 3773) <Elven Legend> Through the next two centuries Gnomes, Centaurs, Satyr and Orcs also joined the ranks of the races. Gnomes: Little is known of their background, though rumours persist. Some say they represented a split in Dvar's mind caused by his guilt over withdrawing from the other Gods. Others believe that they are the offspring of Dwarves and Humans - a dreadful mixing of essences that if true, could explain the God's later self-imposed exile. Centaurs: The race of Centau was forced to constantly move; they were birthed and killed daily under the weight of Centau's need. They were the only race to ever truly rebel against their God, influenced by the serenity of the Elves and betraying a doubt in Centau's own mind, by beginning to eat and live longer lives. Deprived of his race, and obsessed with his need for constant change, Centau fell from grace, losing his sanity and racing like a beast through the plains and wastes of the world. Though the other Gods tried to console him, Centau was deaf to their words, and his final fate would be a dark one. Satyr: Her race became wonderful musicians, and lived deep in the forests where their music, and their nature, could remain undisturbed. Orcs: Created by Mortos in his great anger to blight the lives of the other races and bark defiance at his fellow Gods. Though he made them less intelligent than the others, he also made them strong and vicious. 4,750 – 4,600 B.G.A The Dragon Wars (Kayliana) <Elven, Human and Dreagoni legend> As the first race, the Dragons felt inclined to teach their young followers what they knew. Due to their sharp claws, however, they were only able to put their knowledge into writing in curved or straight groves in the rock, which would soon erode away. The Elves, who were always very bright, learned quickly how to use parchment and ink to record lessons so that anyone might read them. The scrolls were later deemed the Scrolls of Knowledge and were kept in the Grand Palace of Tiral for the use of any who wished to read them. At this time there was peace, and much to be gained from the other races. However, the short-lived Humans soon became jealous of the Dragons knowledge, their beauty, their power, their long-life, and plotted to destroy that which they could not have. Under the reign of Kshirtan the Black, descendant of Kerzhrikahr, the plot was put into action. A Human, remembered by the Dragons as only the Betrayer, led a band into the Grand Palace and attacked Kshirtan with a specially made sword and stole the Scrolls of Knowledge. This sword was later named the Serpent sword, for it was the first sword to pierce the hide of a Dragon. Kshirtan was mortally wounded upon the steps of the Palace, and made his way to the throne room where he later died. Enraged, the Dragons led a retaliation upon the Humans. The Elves sided with their Draconic teachers, and the Dwarves sided with the Humans. For the first time in the history of the Eternal-Lands there was war. Many creatures of each race were slain, and soon there were no longer enough who were capable of battle. The four races separated and left one another alone, harboring secret hatreds and distrusts until no one even remembered quite why they despised the other races. The Dragons, hunted down one by one, soon began to fear for their future and approached the Elves for help. Using their knowledge of the earth and their crafting skills, the Elves fashioned beautiful pendants of pure silver in the shape of Dragons themselves. There was a condition, however. In order to ensure their future, the Dragons would have to give up their bodies and keep their souls in the silver pendants until the time it would be safe for them to return. Many Dragons feared this eternity in a silver prison, and vanished off to die alone or to be slain by their enemies. But many others willingly left their bodies and entered the silver pendants into a hibernation where they would stay until it was safe again for Dragons to roam the Eternal-Lands once more. One of these Dragons was Kayliana the Black, granddaughter to the Betrayed Kshirtan and the heir to the throne. It was with a heavy heart she gave up her Draconic form and allowed her soul into the pendant to await a future time. Approx. 4,500 B.G.A Orchans begin to exist. Mortos banished to underworld. (Saii) <Dwarven Legend> The Orcs were Mortos' own race, and reflected his dreadful hatred, yet in time, even some of them came to disagree with him, breeding with Hume's people and begetting the Orchans, a confused and unwelcome mix of Human and Orc. This travesty, the mixing of one God's essence with another, turned the other Gods against their hate-filled brethren, and they punished Mortos with fearful fury, casting him down beneath the earth to rot with his deviancies. There he remains to this day, and his domain is that of Hell. He sits upon the Ebony Throne and forever plots against this world. 4,000 – 1,000 B.G.A Mortos slowly corrupts the gods (Saii) <Orchan Legend> Early in his imprisonment, Mortos discovered a way to reach the free gods in the world above, invading their dreams and insinuating himself into their subconscious. Subtly, he brought a new campaign to destroy their psyches and bend them to his will. He began with Centau, the easiest of the three - one who had already been driven to madness. Mortos came first into Centau's dreams, where the constant running and tearing, death and renewal of Centau's mindscape proved easy to manipulate. Mortos broke Centau, inflicting horrific images and thoughts on that already tattered soul until the once great God finally threw himself into the seas, screaming and thrashing as he sank to unknowable depths. Though immortal, Centau has since passed out of sight and mind, and is thought to remain beneath the waves, where storms reflect the raging mania of his thoughts. Mortos' second target was Dvar, lord of the Dwarves. Mortos found Dvar's destruction a harder task, and worked to lead him away from his kin with dreams of great works of craft. Through the God's precise, mathematical mind Mortos promised ever greater feats that could be made, if only Dvar had peace from the world. Over time, Dvar withdrew from the bustle of life, moving underground to find the silence he needed to make his great creations. In time, he stopped speaking entirely to his kin. Items wrought by Dvar's great skill can still be found in the deep, singing quietly to themselves. The third of Mortos' targets was Dreagon (?), whose straightforward mind was easy to cloud, but impossible to break. Dreagon's dreams were simple, unambiguous clashes of honour and cowardice, and Mortos fed from the latter. Dreagon's own despair was ironically lessened by this, which strengthened his mind both awake and asleep. He soon grew aware enough to notice and expel Mortos, yet the Ebony Throne's influence was noticeable - Dreagon's courage and power in war became offset by a lessening of his goodness. He changed his name to Glydoc and became neutral to the affairs of the world. Fourth was Hume, the innovator. She was canny, even in her dreams, and provided far more of a challenge than the first of Mortos' victims. Yet over centuries, Mortos had an effect even on her, emphasising her distrust of Glydoc's new, pitiless nature into an intense hatred of his love of war (and hence, destruction). This was however all Mortos could accomplish, and she discovered his presence in her mind, expelling him. With the passing of time her name has become Elandria, and she is beloved by all for her permanence and peaceful nature - though feared for her enigmatic ways. Next Mortos tried to invade the mind of Satyr, projecting dark images of Hume destroying her forests to try and make her disbelieve any warnings. He was too late. Hume had already told Satyr and so she cast him out almost immediately. She and Elandria, despite their differences, have remained firm friends since. Her love for the life of our world has remained undimmed, and we call her Gaia, life bringer. Last came Aluwen, the greatest of the six old gods and with Satyr, the one who led the others to cast him into his prison. Mortos, barred from her walled dreams, had to take an altogether different approach against his greatest enemy. Approx. 3,600 B.G.A Mount Polan erupts (Aira) <Elven Legend> A crack of thunder rang about the eastern shores of Doonray. They sky was dark, lit only by the volcano of Mount Polan, named after King Polan of the village himself, the land of that village to be known as Grubani. Swirling clouds of ash and smoke rose from the depths of the earth and into the sky, hovering in the horizon, giving warning to the villagers below. An icy tingling crept into the spines of the villagers. Now screams could be heard from Women, some forcibly pulling their children down the cobblestone streets to the outer gates of the village. Another great roar of thunder broke out as the volcano released its fury and shot into the sky. The smell of sulfur was everywhere as lava rained down upon the helpless village. Thatched roofs were lit aflame, burning with relentless passion. Still more screams rose into the heated air, only to be drowned by coughing and hacking. Smoke was snaking through the streets, poisonous fumes stabbing the lungs of the helpless villagers.... It wasn’t until 7 years later had a team of elvish explorers discovered the cave, hidden deep in the mists and forests, of the volcano where cries of pain and the blood curdling rip of flesh could be heard from the entrance. One of the elves doubled back, running for his life, as the others peered in only to be snatched from their boots and taken in to join the damned souls already captured. The gods thought it best to keep Mount Polan hidden away, but even still, the horrible cries of pain and suffering can still be heard, if you listen hard enough, ringing through the forests surrounding the now settled Grubani Peninsula. But once you hear those cries, you take off running. For if you’re taken, the horrible cries will become your own as you suffer what many before you have suffered, as you’re skewered on a metal pole and your flesh is being stripped from your bones by dull, metal spikes spinning round n’ round your body. Round n’ round n’ round… n’ round…" 400 – 50 B.G.A Mortos teaches Unolas & Selain (Saii) <Orchan Legend> After failing to destroy the three greatest of his captors, Mortos had to find another way of securing his freedom. His knowledge of the limits of his prison had grown yet further over centuries of effort invading the minds of the five, and he was not long in coming with a second attempt to destroy our world. His chance came with an Elf, perhaps the most brilliant child of that race to have walked these lands. Unolas was, by many of his kin's standards, a heretic, delving too deeply into areas of the world long avoided. In some ways he was more Dwarven than Elvish in his outlook, craving peace for his experiments with the nature of the Gods' work, and he gave less regard to the beauty of Aluwen's nature. He was more interested in how and why we came to be, and in the possibility of gaining those powers the Gods clearly possessed. Mortos worked hard to help Unolas in his quest, and over the course of three centuries, the two of them met in dreams that became more vivid and lengthy as time went by. The two became friends (insofar as Mortos is able to befriend anyone), and they learned much from one another, with Unolas writing down their nightly conversations and his daily experiments in a series of massive books. Twelve thick tomes of knowledge and lore were accumulated, as Unolas' gifted mind leapt the intellectual chasms that divide God and mortal. Finally, one fine spring day, Unolas stood on the shores of the Second Continent, and pronounced the forms of the essences to a congregation of his Elven kin from every corner of the lands. He demonstrated each essence in turn, drawing gasps of astonishment as he manifested both creation and destruction around him for several hours, before retiring to his bed, exhausted. *** Mortos had not been idle in the daylight hours, as Unolas toiled those long years. He spoke also to a second being, an Orchan known as Selain. Selain was altogether different from Unolas, uninterested in pure research, driven only by dreams of greed and power. Mortos came across Selain almost by accident, drawn to the Orchan's childish diggings in the darkest pits of the Underworld. Barely a teen, Selain already had a dark and ruthless cunning, and a wicked gift for the arts of alchemy. He dug in the great depths of the deepest caves for new and powerful ingredients to add to his potions, so he could by stealth dominate his village where he could not by force of arms. So close did he venture to the true realms of Mortos that the dark God heard his scratchings, and invaded his mind. Mortos was taken with what he saw there. Selain was utterly amoral, and more so than Unolas, would not simply provide help for his plans to escape, but could cause great anguish to the other Gods in doing so. Mortos poured every once of the power he had accumulated into the vessel, and in doing so, created a God who would ravage the Eternal Lands and begin the Great War. 48 B.G.A Unolas promoted, Selain declares his own godhood & the beginning of the War of the Gods (Saii) <All Races> A court was founded, to judge Unolas, whose studies had caused so much concern, with the four Gods Elandria, Gaia, Glydoc and Aluwen sitting on the highest of thrones. It was thought they would find Unolas guilty of heresy and destroy him, yet Mortos pre-empted this, furnishing Unolas with three unassailable arguments: First of these was his motive. Unolas had caused no harm to others and used his knowledge responsibly. Second was the mere fact of his dedication, which was not evil in itself and indeed was the only way for the races to grow and evolve as their creators had wished them to. Third, and most important, was that killing him would not stop others from learning as he had. A line had been crossed. Surely it would be better, given his obvious good character, to elevate rather than punish him for his achievements? The four Gods were slow to decide, debating for over a decade the various arguments as an already aged Unolas grew frail with time. Glydoc argued in favour of execution, seeing the use of magic by mortal creature as an invitation to cowardice and a betrayal of honour. His view was overruled. The others felt that to try and keep magic from their creations would be unjust. Instead they took into account Unolas' restraint in the use of the powers he had, and the potential harm that these powers could do, and decided to elevate him, to render him immortal so that he could watch over the essences of the mortal realm. So Unolas took a place among the Gods themselves, and Mortos gained an ally in his quest for freedom. On the day the decision was made, in the great Hall of the Gods, in front of the princes of every race, Selain broke in on the ceremony and called himself God. He called on Unolas' debt to Mortos and declared war on the other Gods. 47 – 21 B.G.A Destruction of the Centaurs (Saii) <Dwarven and Elven Legend> During the Great War the Centaurs lost more than any other Aluwenist race bar the Satyr. They had been most numerous in the Second Continent, roaming in hundreds of small clans across the great open plains of that land, linked only loosely in a series on larger tribes. Sundered from their God and from each other, they were incoherent, rudderless. As the war began Selain was ruthless to the children of Centaur. Mindful of what Mortos had done to their God and wary of their hatred, the Great Poisoner wasted no time in striking at them wherever he could, sending thousands of his wiley Orchans to hunt the tribes down one by one. Eventually all but a bare 2,000 Centaur were dead, and these journeyed to the coasts, taking Gaia's ships to the first continent. 30 - 21 B.G.A Destruction of the Satyr (??) <General Hearsay> Little is known about the destruction of the Satyr as yet. All that is clear is the means by which their capital, and thus the majority of their populace, was destroyed - cowardice and treachery. 3 B.G.A Glilin and the Dwarves join the War (Saii) <Dwarven Legend> Glilin looked upon the war, and found the cause of this inferior metal to be Orchan work. Controlling the Second Continent, they owned the ore mines where the best iron was to be found, yet cared little for the process of extracting or smelting it properly. The result was cheap, brittle metal that was simply not usable in his high craft. Glilin decided that this was a cause the Dwarves should fight for, and used his immense influence within the Dwarven community to call a gathering on the subject. Glilin talked long into the night at this meeting, shouting down agents of Selain who attempted to silence him, and to the surprise of all, including himself, found there to be a huge sympathy for his cause. All the Dwarves had suffered from a lack of usable materials, and a motion was swiftly passed to join the Aluwenists in their struggle. Within days a flood of high quality ordinance moved from the Northern Valleys to the armouries of Gaia and Dreagon. These were closely followed by legions of highly disciplined Dwarves outfitted in heavy armour, carrying near-unbreakable weapons and headed by Glilin himself. 2 B.G.A Battle of Portland (Saii) <All Races> See Battle of Portland thread

That's a shame, you were going really well . Good luck with your studies!

Oh I thought the Dreagoni were the souls of the Dragons escaped from the pendants, did I misread? In which case, has it been explained how they were created?

Travel The slow caravan of the Janner stretched across the plain in small groups of families, clans and tribe remnants. As always it was impossible to keep an eye on them all as individuals lost concentration, wandered and broke into nervous gallops, before remembering their purpose and returning to the march. Stalium trotted onwards with Folis at his side, snapping at those who seemed to be forgetting themselves. Up and down the line warriors, with their tough disciplining in long-term concentration, were doing the same. Nevertheless it was hard, and his mind started to wander as they crossed the dark, sweet-smelling evening plains.

Intervention Folis galloped towards the bridge, leaving the quickmarch of the Satyr far behind. His tribe had already reached the two bridges, and one was already being weakened in preparation for their trap to be sprung. As he'd predicted, it was going to be close - a detachment of Orchan perhaps 500 strong was already moving in their direction ahead of the mounting mass of Selain's front line. If they reached the bridge before the Satyr crossed, it would be all over. His Centaur couldn't afford to destroy the crossing too early, or the trap would fail and the Satyr would be cut off, leaving them short of bodies to hold the second bridge.

Salia cocked his head to one side in puzzlement - everyone knew the Centaur, like the Dwarves, had lost their God in the early days - but Selain didn't seem to notice, or if he did, wasn't going to explain. The God turned to a pair of dull-eyed Centaurs, who stood listless in the crowd of onlookers a few feet away, and raised a skeletal finger to point at them. "You will gag and bind the Satyr and take him to this Folis. You shall say you were working undercover for Glydoc and took this creature from prison as he was about to tell his captors everything he knew. Then when you get the chance, kill both of them. Do this and your families will be set free. Fail and they will be killed." The Centaurs he spoke to nodded miserably, and moved to take hold of Salia, who stuttered; "But I have helped you win this war!" The cowled figure laughed quietly. "Not yet, but you will soon enough - little traitor."

ta I was quite pleased when I came up with it :wink: 8) --------------------- Each of them stood slightly forward from the main mass of the tribe's fighters, waiting for instructions. Discipline was better now that the non-combatants were gone, but Stalium kept his sentences short all the same. "100 of you to the front of the caravan, picked by Marum. 200 to the back, led by Geldit, the other 400 taking flank led by Foils and I. Scouts from each group to run ahead and around looking for signs of the enemy." Within the hour they were organised and moving.

I was writing the Dreagoni in as covering the exodus of Gaia's fleet and as the major part of the main army in the Battle of Portland, but presumably they wouldn't have been around at that point.

K I'll replace them with Elven warriors instead. Glinin's elevation... As I wrote it he was elevated mainly because of his outstanding life as a craftsman and elder, coupled specifically with his bravery and tactical skill during the battle itself (despite his age and fragility). Also he was very much second choice. If Folis had lived he would have been elevated instead. I can rewrite it so he spent longer in the war, but the problem is he didn't join until after the standoff between Unolas and the Aluwenists began so either way he'd not really be doing much fighting until then. The point about the Dwarves only being involved for one battle was that they swung the balance of the entire thng, and the Aluwenists would have lost otherwise so Glilin's mobilisation of the Dwarves even so late on was a deciding factor in the war's outcome. Pity, Prayers, Pardon, Paralysis, Parity, Purdah, Patience, Politics, Punsihment (so many P words, so little time)...

k changed ----------------------- Salia sat, his leg crudely bandaged, in front of this Orchan God, who had started the war and slaughtered his family. Slowly, hesitantly, he was telling everything he knew about the Gaian unit who had taken the pass at Tahraji. The thin, crone-like figure of the one Orchans called 'Great Poisoner' was shrouded under a heavy cowl, and it showed no reaction as Salia spoke of troop numbers, morale and positioning until he mentioned the charge of Folis. On hearing the name it stirred and spoke in an oily, slime-ridden tongue. "Ah yes, the Centaur who led the rout of my front-line troops. A magnificent achievement, made all the more poignant by the involvement of their long-lost God."

Much as I respect you Arafin I'm not going to base the characters I write on your subjective opinions. Having said that, in the histories I assumed that they had quite short lives, because of Centau's need for constant change. I'd also dispute that Mortos (or Orchans for that matter) needs to be written off as fundamentally 'evil', which is always a horribly lazy one dimensional base for any character. I saw him more as an angry loser terrified of change, who will do anything and everything to try and bring back the 'good old days' when EL didn't exist. Think of a particularly reactionary small-town gent and you'll get what I'm talking about, it's just in this case he's also a God and has had several millenia to stew about it, so he's vastly more vicious and threatening. ----------------------------- Marum hailed from the Eliti clan, old rivals of the Celtis, and was a wiley old fox who had often outmanouvered Stalium both on and off the battlefield. Though they were both of the same generation, Marum now seemed a little too old to be truly able in leading the Janner, or he would have taken the torque above Stalium. The old Centaur was still a fearsome fighter, but his stamina was not what it once was and he held an advisory role rather than a leading one. He still wore the Green ribbon of wisdom, but had carefully unwound the Red. Folis was Marum's son, a young, self-possessed warrior with a natural gift for fighting, tactics and cunning which surpassed even his father's. Tall, powerful and athletic, he was hampered only by his youth, through which he lacked wisdom. For all his tender age though, Stalium regarded Folis as the only one to have survived who had the capability to become a great chieftan in the vein of the wild old princes of the past. Folis wore the black, but also the rarely gained orange of a blessed one, carried those who seemed touched by the divine.

I'm sorry but that's a ludicrous thing to say. Centaurs are written up completely differently depending on which story you read. In some they're wise old sages, in others impetuous savages. I've read a great deal of fantasy and the only thing which remains the same throughout every story is their physical appearance. I have made a point of saying the tribes were fractured and didn't talk to explain their lack of coherence, and if you read the Battle of Portland you'll note that they are portrayed there as heroes of the highest order so I don't know what all this pacifism stuff is about. Centau is their creator in the histories, hence the correction. I'm not going to designate Orchans as evil because a) They're playable characters and their blurb on the website says that they have a highly developed sense of honour and heroism. Thanks for the input though. ------------------------------ Among the warriors were three who Stalium truly respected, Geldit, Marum and Folis. Geldit was a loyal warrior of the Celtis, Stalium's own clan. Coloured a rough brown and feared far and wide for his enormous strength, Geldit carried a gigantic hammer which he wielded like another would handle a flick-knife. Standing head and shoulders above every other, with a back broad enough to match, the big Centaur was scarred head to hoof from a hundred skirmish wounds. He wore the Black ribbon of a warrior.

FOLIS finally lost his outward composure as Salia was dragged into the city, and began to trot about, swinging his sword. The nearest of his kin looked on in agitation, one piping up: "What shall we do now?" Folis looked at the situation. With Salia's help, the enemy would know the forces who defeated them on the left were all but spent, and that the Satyr reinforcements were likely to rout under pressure. They would send only enough troops to stop his flank from spooking the rest later on, and that wouldn't be enough of a diversion to give Glydoc and Glilin a fighting chance. Folis searched for a solution. He needed a way to draw more of Selain's troops away from their main force. His gaze lit on the bridges. If one was destroyed at the right time, it would divide the enemy in two, forcing them to send huge numbers round to the other bridge, which would be defended by his troops. Folis moved quickly. After ordering his Centaur to make for the bridge, he ran for the Satyr line and Gaia. They were leaving it late; even if she agreed immediately it would be a close thing.