Interlude (The story of the Great Seeds)

Taking a short break from Mohryn's tale...Here is a freshly edited version of my rpg game background. Nothing fancy about the rpg...it was text based on mIRC. I take heavily on the ideas of my favorite author, Tolkien. Much credit is given to his genius and imagination :)

In a time so long forgotten, before the age of despair and war, the world was pristine and full of hope. Form and shape were given to the lonely, empty void by the Creator and in its age of creation beings called Avatars walked its surface. They came from the places of which no story tells; coming to give beauty and life to the empty world. Each Avatar held within them the power over one of the elements: earth, water, wind, spirit, and fire. It is in this time and ever after that this story is concerned; the ages of wilting beauty.

Wind was the first to exercise her power. She created the sky and with the help of water sat the clouds in their place. Water with earth formed life in and out of the never ending seas, but it was not without spirit’s touch that life ever came to be. Many other creations were made and with each others’ help they created all there ever was. But one avatar withheld his power, choosing only rare times to create or form the world to his liking. Fire never was fond of creating beauty as others saw it.

Soon the world was as beautiful as the imagination can fathom but this beauty was never destined to last.

The Avatar of fire grew jealous of the others' work. He grew frustrated that no one took notice of his work's true beauty. The other avatars saw this change and quickly moved to encourage him, giving him rights to the world's foundation and allowing him to heat the world in its need. Spirit even created a small living thing with Fire...a flicker of blinking light on the warm summer’s night that we call a Firefly. His jealousy was only tamed for a short while.

The Avatars held council and within that council elected Spirit to manage the newborn world and govern it in the Creator's will. It was there that the prophecy of the races was told to them. Beings created not from them and wholly apart from them would awaken in the world. They would need the Avatars' guidance to fulfill their potential and it would be the Avatars' job to make the world ready for them. Fire, being partly perverse by the thoughts of greed and jealousy, only saw this as an opportunity to rule.

Through Fire's jealousy and greed he began to plot against the other Avatar and while in the solitude of his work he secretly perverted every single thing the others created. He grew strong and surpassed them in power and might. Even Spirit held no dominion over him. Fire delved a fortress into the earth, marring its beauty forever. There he brought forth legions of horrid beasts and mastered the power needed to blanket the world in his darkness. His form twisted and mocked the beauty he once held. He had become his own version of fairness.

As the days of the prophecy neared the end the Avatars came in council again. Fire came, covering his now twisted form in shadow... They discussed what each had done and the trouble they encountered with the perverted works of unknown origin. They knew nothing of evil or of how such things could come to be. But soon they would. It was here, in the midst of their discussion that the hammer stroke met the anvil. Fire unfurled his facade and called forth the army in waiting. The Avatars were overwhelmed and fled in the face of destruction. The world around them burned… As they fled they witnessed the decimation of their works.

The Avatars fled as far as the shores before turning and fighting off the onslaught that met them. One by one they fled across the sea, leaving the land they had called home. They fled until the dawning of the next sun. There Earth raised the ground above the water and Water carved into the rock. Wind carried the birds to their new haven and beauty began to take form once again.

Not much is told of this era in history. Though what is known is that most of the early races awoke to the blaze of the world's destruction. Many fled to unknown lands or places that the Avatars kept secret...places that somehow managed to go untouched from Fire's destructive hands. Others quickly fell into the slavery and bondage that Fire's subjects were treated to.

In this age of torment names were given to all things but not by the tongues of the Avatars but by the words of the races. Gaithlor they called the fearful Fire for in the common tongue it meant anger and fire… the fear causer. The other avatars were not yet known to them so of their names no one knows but the ancient among the races.

Through the echoes of the injured world the avatars heard the fulfillment of the Prophecy of the Races. They longed to meet them but in the age of torment and fear the Avatars continued in exile. At last they rose from their pity and decided to take back what they were promised. They created a fortress of their own, a haven for those they would bring back from the mainland and after years of preparation they embarked to save their home, the land of fire and death. It is said that in this time the lesser spirits abandoned the void for the call of war. Thousands heeded the call… An armada of white ships set a blaze with the light of the dawning sun reached the now foreign shores. They were met with little resistance and by the time the sun set behind them they had reclaimed just under half of the scarred land.

It was during this time that Gaithlor waged a cruel and wicked war with them. He sent the twisted forms of men and other races to fight the Avatars; to fall to their deaths in front of their supposed saviors. The war was at a standstill with neither side gaining nor losing ground. It was during this time that the Avatars searched their homeland in hopes of finding the prophesied races. They found Elves and Men and Draconians, but others were either lost or hidden.

The Avatars taught them knowledge of many things and in the end of their teaching, beckoned them to come to the far lands with them. Too few heeded the calls and so it was that many were split from their families; some to go to the far lands and their safety, others to go to the ever-burning war and their impending death.

The Avatars tested their strength against Gaithlor and still found it wanting. Each test waxed their hold upon the faraway lands. They knew of no way to defeat him and his armies but with the instilled knowledge of those who came with them they found a way.

Together they created the shells of four seeds. Each Avatar would in turn pour into the hallow shells their power, their immortality, their being... The sacrifice was great but in its fulfillment laid hope. They were to find the seat of Gaithlor's power and there plant the four seeds. When all four were planted the world itself would destroy the scars and malice of Gaithlor and his army...leaving the world in the care of the races.

Each Avatar set out alone and on different paths towards Gaithlor’s seat of power. Elves and Men devised weapons of warfare while the Draconians held the onslaught at bay. As the strength of the Draconians failed elves and men swooped down from the southern mountains, killing any who stood in their way. With their newfound power they pushed back the armies of Gaithlor until at last they were in the very shadow of his fortress. The last gasp of life had succeeded thus far...

The Avatars themselves were a part of the last gasp and as they neared the fortress; Gaithlor unleashed every horrid creation he had ever made. While the battle churned each Avatar found themselves face to face with their destruction. Wind fought off the claws and fire of a giant land wyrm while Water and Earth fought off the countless spawns of shadow. It was here during this desperate fight that Gaithlor himself came forth and confronted Spirit. As Spirit was about to plant her seed, Gaithlor came with furry and fought off her attempts to end his reign.

Their fight drew on into the night with neither gaining any ground with the other. Even after Wind, Water, and Earth had planted their seeds Spirit and Gaithlor fought on. Spirit's strength was failing and with that Gaithlor was able to wound her several times. She fell before him, barely able to support herself on her knees. As he was about to draw his sword across her throat an arrow struck at his chest...then another, and another. The arrows of a man, elf, and draconian struck him with precision. He stumbled back. Their efforts to kill him were fruitless. He seemed to hold the power over life within his grasp, but just as he was about to end Spirit's life the other Avatars struck. Gaithlor was heavily wounded and before he fell his own blood trickled down his sword and upon the seed of Spirit.

In her last moments of life, Spirit planted her seed. The wound of the world was healed but the blood of Gaithlor's evil still coursed through it.

The last of the four avatars, now reduced to a mortal life, lived amongst the races until their death. It is told that before the Avatars died they made the races a promise.... a promise that in their greatest hour of need they would return to destroy the tainted seed and restore the world to its former beauty.

Note: Spirit, wind, water, and earth were given names which are recorded as: Vanya, Vendethiel, Athradien, and Bruicaunion respectively. These are not their true names but those offered to them by the newly liberated races.

Of those that fled to the faraway lands…Little more is told in this story of those races, but still much is known. Other legends recount how after the Avatars’ death the faraway lands fell under the same curse of spirit’s tainted seed.