Posted for posterity...
Who could have predicted such a tragic outcome? The Fort had collapsed as fast as it had risen-the disparate Elven Refugees were scattered to the four winds to seek their own destinies..Dhaeke (6)The Deep elf quickly rejoined his old life of wandering amongst the deeps, caring little for the world as it raged and wept and bled above him. But something had changed...his powers over the earth had greatly increased, and soon even a loner such as he garnered followers-the hopeless and lost, much like him.
The numbers of his group swelled, and though he never wished it, they began to form another Elven civilization under the Earth. He did not rule, but merely advised, and this was wise. Even the Humans, who had succeeded in wiping out nearly all Elven life above ground, feared to seek the remaining ones who lived deep beneath. None stood against them, and their holdings swelled. Conflict with the deep Dwarves and Goblins was inevitable, but their new powers were more than a match for them. A new hope for Elves who refused to live under the yoke...
Dhaeke lived to see it thrive before falling to a Dwarven assassin’s blade 670 years later-a cowardly blow, since none would face his might in open combat. The Earth sang a great lament for him...in it's own way-devastating most of the under and over world with Earthquakes and volcanoes of terrific force...
Poor Dusk was cast out alone into the world far too young, and the well intentioned mistakes he had made in the fort eventually came to haunt him. His dabbling in blood magic soon grew into an obsession, as he sought to correct the wrongness in the world by selling his own soul.
For generations, he became a wandering defender, righting wrongs with his ill gotten powers, striking blows against anyone who sought to bully the weak and helpless. In time, he was summoned to join the underground Empire of Dhaeke, where he achieved much renown by not only fighting those who opposed them, but punishing those who sought to betray then from within-his force of handpicked blood rangers, zealously sought out injustice, sometimes too far...
Of course, all things have a price...when Dhaeke was slain, the evil forces began collecting on their debt, possessing Dusk and tricking him into engage in a violent civil war with his former countrymen. He slew himself when he realized what was happening, but it was far to late...he did not die unmourned, but he was not entirely loved, either. One could say he did his best, and wonder what could of been had his life been not so hard.
The Dawn Elven magician Ochita never entirely reconciled his anger over the death of his wife. With no one left to care for, it began to steadily erode his wisdom, and eventually his sanity.
Seeking to escape his grief, he delved into knowledge seeking along with caboose, gathering what records he could salvage from the great fallen nation of the Elves of the world. This knowledge was contained in a massive vault built and maintained with magic underneath the cold Northern Ocean, and guarded with the strongest forces he could muster. Few heroes who sought him out were good enough to find him... A thousand years later, the few occasional adventurers still attempted to pierce his vault, where Ochita still lived amongst the relics of a civilization that is long forgotten.
To seal away such knowledge is perhaps a sin, but Ochita cares not. Perhaps it is his own way of preserving what he once had...as he was there in the beginning, so he was there in the end, when the weight of uncaring glaciers, heralding the new ice age, crushed the vault, all his relics and him with it. Gods grant him peace...
The smith Karratan never achieved great fame or renown-he merely churned out unremarkable, yet sturdy pieces of armor and weapons for the entirety of his life. He did this for 2000 years, and in the end even his cheapest work was gear fit for kings. Karratan was the last of the great Elven blacksmiths, but he refused to share his knowledge to the world as a whole, preferring to take only one apprentice a time, and having them earn it.
Such was his end, murdered by a impatient and selfish apprentice who only then realized his master kept no written notes.
Much like Ochita, Caboose was a Dawn Elf in a world that no longer cared he existed. He, for a time, sought knowledge alongside Ochita, and even helped him in forging the great vault. Eventually, he tired of guarding it, though and went forth into a new world, one of steam and steel-an industrial era, where his beloved forests were gone to ash and smoke...
He despaired of this world, and for his own sake, sought another. He unlocked the secrets of passing between worlds, and in doing so moved on...but no matter where he went, the outcome was the same. He realized, eventually, why he looked so timeless-for he was that. Every time he finds another, it is as lush as the one before, and every time it is brought to waste, and he moves on.. again and again. He always forgets what came before, but he has never lost hope, even now...as his feet touch the virgin soil of a new world, he is as joyful as he was all the times before.
Zrallins fate was short and brutal-having, in his eyes, failed to keep the fort intact merely consigned himself to the hopeless defense of Broadleaf Keep.
He killed nearly a thousand men before they brought him down.
Selande eventually obtained her own brand of justice to the corrupt mayor. Indeed, none of those who even knew him off hand would live long. Her justice was in discriminate.
Convinced her dream was a false one, Selande fell into despair, selling her killing services to the highest bidder. She never lost a single mark, much to her pride. Her blades dispatched the hopes and terrors of millions, depending on who had hired her.
Her final job was one for the Dwarves-killing an influential earth Magician who was leading the Deep Elves into a resurgent future. As was her nature, she asked no questions, and cared not even to kill her own kind. When the blade struck home, she realized it was Dhaeke-the one who the dream had been meant for.
Selande began to laugh.
Disead, unlike his brethren, never abandoned the fortress. Preferring a life in seclusion, he merely fortified the gates and became the lord of a forgotten place. Eventually, the Dwarves moved in, and he began selling fruit and broken crockery from a humble stall. He would be doing this for a LONG time.
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Topic: Re: Elfin Refugees OOC thread (Closing up shop) (Read 24869 times)