Theurgy: Forsaken Oaths

Life in the northern regions of Lykos has become harsher and harsher as the days continue. Granted that life outside of the major walled cities, such as the capital, has always been unkindly to the many residents that called the thin pine forest and coarse hills home. The many large and ancient beasts that have chosen to roam these lands as feeding territory has perpetually given a challenge to even the most experienced hunters who prey upon the abundant game or the mining of raw materials from the rich earth. But ever since the Frostlandians had declared war on the clans, the various raids and incursions from these rabid forces have pushed many from the border that they had once claimed a sustainable home. Of course, the empire does all it can to keep these forces at bay. Lykos is far from inexperienced with handling the raid parties of some nomadic sects or smaller factions within the Frostlands, but it is due to the far more cohesive and organized formations that present the la

The Princes have returned, on winged white horses descending from the clouds.It has been only half a year since the unfortunate and mysterious siege occurred upon the capital city of Liontari, Silondras. Although Queen Celia erased the physical destruction of the capital itself, the true scars carried on in the hearts of citizens. Nevertheless, life has returned to relative normalcy, as it were. The markets were always open, the people were always smiling, and the soldiers were always ready for action. But this was not the extent of the security that they were able to supply. Due to the decree of the Grandmaster, who authorized dealings with mages overseas and other diplomatic dealings, even magical means of protection, were provided. The fact that these attacks had occurred in all Western powerhouses undoubtedly has strengthened some sort of bond, however tenuous that bond may be now. But with more magical means of repelling specific threats. Silondras was healing. A lot of this men

Ryan slowly awoke to the world around him. He was in a stuffed bed, probably the most comfortable one here. And like many of the larger mats, packed with others that dreaded the hard floor. Instead, he was used to it, and everyone had mastered the art of remaining as still as possible so as not to kick someone off the bed accidentally. Not that he could get much sleep anyway. It was hard these days. So he just kept his senses sharp, watching over all the little ones as they slept as well as Avery. Avery herself did not rest until everyone was accounted for, but she too soon succumbed to the night as well. She looked so tired when he first saw her. The Avery he knew had more energy than what Avery displayed now. Then again, in that time, she has assumed quite the parental role. He does not blame her for treasuring the sleep. But he can not do the same, unfortunately. Years of practice and regimen have kept his body operating for quite a long time without sleep. Even if he needed i

The border. The most active area of conflict in the clans has been in the past fifty years since this dreaded and long-fought war began between the Empire and the collective Frostlandian kingdoms. Edlund has grown up hearing of the utter brutality that occurred there, the constant effort to repel the relentless attacks launched by the frostlanders and their Hyperborean elite. It was pretty jarring, the initial conflicts. The Empire has always kept its distance to this ancient region north. If was mere rumors if even organized settlements were found, and the mysterious powers of the northern winds whispered amongst travelers. Everyone once in a blue moon someone may venture beyond the frigid forest and hallow hills to peer to this culture, only to return with warnings of dangers beyond these people that call the north part of the Utheran continent their home. These beings, who could will ice and snow, golems that could smash boulders to rubble, and vicious men as brutal as th

Lyse was starting to notice things longer he stayed in Antalya.He has read about Antalya on his way here, reading logs from merchants, historical texts that reference the port, and cursory notes from empirical scouts. So here, he was not at all surprised to see an abundance of Hathans around, mingling with the natives who may have migrated from nearby smaller towns in the area. And although he has undoubtedly heard of the decrepit state that Antalya has fallen into during the reign of the bloody queen, it was still somehow startling to see the disrepair that the city was in, more so how nonchalant everyone treated the apparent decay. Crumbling buildings and paths were ignored and walked around; houses looked cobbled together, held only by mortar and good faith. Even the merchant area they traveled to sparsely used the buildings lining the streets but set up their permanent tent to protect their wares better. The lack of infrastructure was both fascinating and dreadful to bear witness