Legends, Myths, and Tales of Ghalerion

[align=center]Legends, Myths, and Tales of Ghalerion[/align]

Posted within this sticky will be the legends, myths, documents, and other assorted things relating to Ghalerion's history. All things posted here are either written by myself or player-submitted. Essentially, one of the things that I've always wanted to make Ghalerion unique was to allow the players themselves, in a way, to shape the history of the young world itself through crafting myths, legends, or factual accounts of what has occurred in different regions of the world in Ghalerion's first 700 years.

There aren't too many requirements (See below), but I should stress that competence in writing is important, but every Ghalerion player I've ever seen has this one down. Submissions, suggestions, and other such comments involving this can be PM'ed to me on the forums or emailed to me at Saizen.Hakaisha@gmail.com

We're really looking forwards to see what can come about from this whole thing. Ghalerion has always been a fun project with a lot of potential for all those that play in it, and we want to give the people a chance to get active and involved and really shape the world itself. ^^

Requirements, Limitations, and Suggestions for submissions:
+A firm knowledge of Ghalerion and its history thus far.
+Active participation in the roleplay (Involved for two months or 50 posts, whichever comes first)
+Submissions must be relevant and meaningful (No individual character histories)
+Try to keep the themes within reason and the limitations of the realm.
+Remember, the world is still young and much still undiscovered; take advantage of this fact.
+Which submissions are posted is completely at my discretion, for now at least.

In the future, I may consider holding some contest or something along those lines for this, but for now, if there are active and creative writers, we'd love to have you. ^^

The Kelian Pledge of Faith
Authored by: Kouketsu

Gentle Eden, bare our declaration.

Manifest from the primordial fountain from which commenced existence, there was chaos. It was this veritable chaos which gave existence to a solitary paradise which preceded even the furthest reaches of the cosmos. Eden. Forged in perfection and immaculately calculated, Eden grew of Chaos in the primordial fountain and existed as the single plane of existence for millennia before giving birth to six. Six entities, six single existences that would, through celestial birthright, shoulder the burden of shaping the very world that we have come to call our own. Blessed be these six, as we would come to call them, “Deities.� Six were forged in the image of chaos, granted the gift and curse of bestowing meaningful existence. Holy are their names. Ezekial, Gaius, Lain, Calin, Detsen, and Agros. Through the work of these six, a single nameless terra came into being, the place that we as Kelians would now know as home, Ghalerion.

For the sake of maintaining their world without constantly intervening and without having to leave Eden, the Deities gave breath to the first inhabitants of this world, ourselves. We were bestowed the title of “Kelians� and have been instructed by our great Deities to develop, maintain, and protect this world of Ghalerion. The Great Deity, Ezekial, made eternal decree, speaking to the language of their hearts, his declaration heard only in the depths of their soul.

“Kelians! Our people! You have received the eternal duty of keeping and developing this beautiful landmass which we have so graciously established for you. As long as you toil, in the greatest goodwill which exists through these cosmos, we will bestow upon your souls the sustenance of power!�

We must strive to answer Ezekial’s declaration! Brothers! We must strive to protect these lands! Sisters! The Deities have given to our people what couldn’t be repaid even in lifetime of infinite toil. They have given us existence. Let divine exigency ring along the lands, flow along the streams, climb atop the mountains and search in between the valleys! Let it roll along the plains, break along the oceans, whisper in the winds! For the sake of our wonderful, beautiful Deities, who have rendered us existence, sustenance, and power, we will toil in their name!

The Five Years Tribal War
Authored by: Kouketsu

[align=center]Tarlan's Preface[/align]
Dating from the 498th Year of Ezekial, the Five Years Tribal War remains the most calamitous blemish upon the legend of Ghalerion’s stable existence. Its occurrence is something looked upon by the modern historians today as an event unworthy of mention, one to be omitted in detail from the history books. The Five Years Tribal War, under the reign of Gaius has been forcibly stripped down in its retelling to a mere skeleton of what flesh it truly was. Perhaps the events it retells are something to be forgotten and forged from. But some scholars would argue that such a significant incident should be taught in full to our young and enthusiastic next generation, so that they may learn from such errors. Ah, but to continue along such a route in my recitation would be to digress and concurrently risk my own livelihood as an established historian. I will do as all good historians should, and supply only the facts to which I am known and allowed, and let my audience formulate their own decision on the matter.

[align=center]The Text[/align]
Riotous incitement. No alternative diction could supply such force and such reality as that. With the arrival of the 498th Year of Ezekial, Ghalerion as a whole sat teetering in fragility between violent conflict and peaceful coexistence. During the inaugural months of that 498th term in which Ezekial sat the Great Deity, a certain degree of control appeared to have been scattered among our powerful lords. Seen within the Deities and Eden was a certain dispersion. The divinities each began appropriating regions of control upon Ghalerion, taking fancy in the offerings and sacrifices towards their name. The mortals inhabiting the world, seeing that devotion to a single deity would bring them vivacity and prosperity, erected temples and other tangible forms of idolatry. Ultimately, the Deities would be driven to jealously and envy of one another, entering into what appeared competition for the loyal pledge of faith given by the mortals and the Kelians. This initial conflict would generate a conflict which would bring ruin upon Ghalerion. It began with Agros.

Agros, whom many mortals had attracted to for her immaculate beauty, developed a firm love for her followers. Upon a single day in the 497th year of Ezekial, a visibly weak mortal in danger of having his family slaughtered for refusing to toil under a Kelian fled to Agros and made call to her for help and protection. This mortal would be consecrated by the deity and given enhanced strength and awareness so that he may protect his family. Seeing that Agros had answered the prayer of one mortal, more began building her shrines and laboring in her name so that they also may receive blessings and aid. By the time of the 498th Year of Ezekial, thousands had been blessed by Agros upon visiting her shrine in what is modern-day Calismus. Soon after, Calin became jealous of Agros holding onto such powerful followers and began calling out to the Kelians, a naturally formidable race, to call them on as his disciples. Soon after, Detsen and Lain also engaged in the activities, blessing their followers with new abilities, added longevity, or greater strength. The mortals being the largest race in number, many of them began consolidating into groups and establishing communities which would attempt to conquer regions. In combination with what the divinities had given to them, the mortals soon began challenging one another, and eventually, a single clan from the mainland would issue challenge to the Kelians. Leading this solitary tribe in what is modern-day Ghale went a man known by a single name, Cassus. This warrior, a follower of the deity Calin, amassed considerable numbers within his tribe, establishing their base on the Ghalerion mainland in a well-fortified stronghold. On a day unspoken of during that 498th Year of Ezekial, Cassus called forth his people to gather within the square of his stronghold, where he would deliver unto them a single proviso.

“My people, we have felt the sting of oppression, the sorrows of toil, and the pain of living our lives without meaning long enough! On this very day, of the 498th Year of Ezekial, before the processions of the eager, before the cries of the impoverished children, before the war calls of the willing revolutionaries, I, Cassus of the Patun Tribe, declare war upon the entire Kelian race! Give me a blade and I’ll give you deliverance!�

According to what has been passed down of the specific incident, the people let forth a unanimous call to arms across the Patun lands, charging outwards with a fervor and passion never seen before on Ghalerion. Armed with blades and spears, slings and arrows, hearts and minds, the Patun tribe drove outwards in every direction across the mainland, slaying Kelian as they went. That infamous Patun zeal soon drew the aid of other mortal tribes across the mainland country, who also engaged in the Kelian slaughtering. At the beginning of the 499th Year of Ezekial, enthusiastic Kelian leaders began emerging, urging their people to fight back, denying their typical pacific values in favor of preserving their race and their livelihood. Many declared the mortals a pathetic lineage of creatures, unfit to remain upon Ghalerion. Many mortals responded in kind by calling out all Kelians as an oppressive breed, determined from the beginning to rid the planet of all mortal beings. The two aggressive sides developed their plea for conflict as if it had been foreordained in the annals of creation. On that 499th Year, all-out war was unleashed upon the fragile terra known as Ghalerion.

The Kelians, naturally gifted in strength and speed, tore across the mainland country, rending out the very hearts of virtually any mortal unfortunate enough to cross their path, whether innocent or full of destructive passion. The mortals would meet the Kelian assaults with nothing but sheer numbers on their side, sending wave after wave of warrior sacrifices to meet the slaughtering of an angry Kelian people, the casualties not seeming to put a single dent in the tribal forces. The mainland country of Ghalerion would be stained with the blood of millions, the death toll from either side reaching unheard of heights. Cassus refused to give in, and the Kelian forces refused to be beaten by such brash leaders.

Around the 502nd Year of Ezekial, the mortals began achieving a veritable psychological victory over their Kelian enemies, in that during the four years since entering into the bloody struggle, their population actually increased in number. Achieving an exponential growth rate during such a time of chaos would ultimately give the mortals the edge in this tribal war. Whereas the Kelian race could do little to repopulate themselves, let alone train up the youth in that time, the mortal population continued sending wave after wave out to the slaughter without remorse for their losses. The tribes were fierce, their tactics unorthodox and unpredictable, and their numbers virtually insurmountable. Within the next year of Ezekial’s reign, the Kelians began being pushed back towards the lower east region of Ghalerion’s mainland continent, their forces having taken considerable damage. And with the warfare leaving their country already in ruins at that juncture, many of the Kelian leaders and generals began losing their will to continue for something they believed worthless. A few ardent extremists would remain on their side, throwing themselves at the other side for the sake of glory, many of their tales still kept alive through the whispers of eager Kelian youth, but the majority of the remaining race determined escape to be their only option. Being isolated to the southeastern corner of the mainland landmass, they would begin construction of a sailing fleet to reach the closest uninhabited continent, a large isolated island. There, the Kelian peoples would construct themselves a peaceful dream-world, determined to flourish under a banner of harmony and goodwill. The name they would bestow upon this landmass was “Tensoku.� The country, coastline shielded with mountains, would serve them incredible fortification should any extremist mortals desire to attempt an attack on their newfound homeland.

By the 403rd Year of Ezekial, the Last Year, all remaining Kelians had been scattered across the Ghalerion mainland, and the Deities called a council to discuss the matter of the Tribal Wars, the state of the planet, and the ruling deity, Ezekial. On the day that such a council was held, the only deity lacking any involvement in the conflict was declared the new Great Deity, Gaius. Ezekial would be exiled from Eden and given eternal punishment for his deeds. Following the Five Years Tribal War, the tribes on the mainland continent began diverging to form their own provinces, sovereignties, and communities. With Gaius in command, the Deities also began taking more involvement in the betterment of Ghalerion and her resources, and less involvement in mortal affairs, something which would lend to the rapid expansion following the destruction. Gaius instituted a much more balanced system, and allowed each deity to bestow a blessing every hundred years. On the 1st year of Gaius, he also brought together both Kelian and mortal leaders to conference on what had happened during the war, and to smooth out remaining conflicts and differences. Both parties came to diplomatic conclusion on the matter, declaring that three of Ghalerion’s seven major countries be occupied by Kelian establishment and the other four by mortal government. To this day, only three of the seven available countries have come under sovereign control during the rule of Gaius, but they have been maintained in a much more stable state than during the reign of Ezekial.

[align=center]Tarlan's Epilogue[/align]
For the sake of balancing out the affairs of Ghalerion, Gaius also developed and gave life to various other new species on the planet, each endowed with their own special talents or abilities for the sake of keeping his planet safe and secure for generations to come. The Five Years Tribal war was the most catastrophic conflict that Ghalerion to this very day has witnessed. Only serving as one of many humble scribes etching my own portion into the tapestry that is history retold, I can only supply to all the meager facts which I feel privileged to have received on the matter. The only certainty of such incidents from our past is that we, as scholars and as citizens, are given two choices with them. We may take from such mistakes and lend the knowledge they have provided to improve ourselves and our society, or we may simply ignore them, leaving chance to find ourselves repeating the disastrous errors of antiquity once more. As only a simple scribe, I can do naught but implore that you take my offering, scholars of the future, and build upon it. Glory be to Gaius. Glory be to Ghalerion.

The Rise of Savian
Authored by: Kouketsu

In the 192nd year of Gaius, on the outskirts of the impoverished farming village of Zar in a still under-developed Calismus was born a rather bland and uninspired child. If one would venture on the conjectures of the populace of that time, the boy was really quite dumb. His parentage, two relatively poor farmers and devout Criticals* named the youth Savian. Growing up as a child, Savian wasn’t given much to the privileges of mentally stimulating activity. He was raised on strength, power, and speed, essentially reared by his parents to aid in their crop raising for the entirety of his lifetime.

Throughout the village of Zar, Savian quickly gained reputation for what the citizenry believed to be his complete absence of rational thought. He farmed. He worked. He planted crops. He pulled crops. An unassuming and far from precocious young man, he would help when he could, but would do so without recognition of any natural talents that he had possessed. He was unaware of his sheer physical prowess, and modest at heart. At the age of six years old, the child worked with such intensity that he could and would occasionally tug along oxen without the slightest bit of struggle. Villagers would describe his drive and hunger as utterly insatiable. He had willpower like none had seen, especially for one so young.

On what began as a rather uneventful day during the 199th Year of Gaius, a multitude of well-suited men arrived by horseback in the settlement, bearing blades and textbooks on the same carriage. The gentlemen called gathered the general public and brought them together in the dirt-covered town center of Zar. One of them, seeming to be garbed a tad more elaborately than the others, yanked the reigns of his charger upwards to call their attention and strode forwards, poised to speak.

“Dearest citizenry of humble Zar, we atop these dappled steeds have brought you together to congregation to announce that we, officials of the prestigious Sparsian Academy, pride of all beautiful Calismus, are seeking the most gifted and talented of youth in all fields for special enrollment in our academy. We have come here seeking the attention of your progeny so that we may evaluate any possible candidates for this next year of enrollment. You are all required to bring any children between the ages of six and eight forth to this place before twilight this eve."

Throughout the remainder of those daylight hours, many a child came before the Sparsian officials, offering some pathetic attempt at impressing them for the sake of being accepted into the world’s most renowned establishment. One after another they would be mercilessly rejected and sent weeping back to their parents, their talents deemed far inferior to Sparsian standards. In the midst of that line waiting to display their ability stood that bland, uninteresting boy, optics glazed over. It would be beyond anyone’s best estimation to definitively declare the boy either apathetic or completely ignorant. In either case, his knowledge of the academy seemed more than limited. With twilight soon upon the horizon, the youth finally stepped forwards before the representatives, all of whom sat intimidating upon their mounts, already infused with a negative bias towards the coming performance. They looked on towards the boy rather disinterestedly and began their usual questioning.

“How old are you, son?" one of them inquired.

Savian, unmindful of even the concept of aging itself, let alone whole numbers, lowered his head while shrugging his shoulders as if to indicate that he really didn’t know. Each of the Sparsian representatives would exchange almost embarrassed looks before the one from before posed another question.

“My young lad, have you ever engaged in a battle?"

This time, the youth was well aware of such a concept. He elevated his head with a grin and nodded heartily towards the cast. “Yes, yes, I know all about fighting."

The officer elevated a brow and gave a sympathetic nod towards the youth before another barged into their exchange, questioning the boy on what exactly he had fought.

“Oh, sir, I’ve fought’in all kinds of things. Cattle, oxen, wolves, and other stuff too."

The men exchanged looks once more, thinking the child’s enthusiasm to be completely born of naiveté and imagination. The one who asked the very first question hopped down from his steed and gently directed it forwards towards the lad. He pulled the reigns down and placed them in his hand before glancing back towards his horse and speaking, his voice seeming to direct the words to the boy regardless. “Well, my steed here is about to buck, young one. Of course, having fought cattle, oxen, and wolves, among other things, you should effortlessly be able to hold him from elevating his legs from the earth." The man gave a solitary hardy smack against the backside of the horse before its back legs elevated and lowered, preparing to launch the front pair skywards. Within moments, it would attempt to launch its front half upwards, but found itself struggling mightily against the sturdy grip of a stubborn young farmhand.



In the 207th Year of Gaius, Savian Yros graduated head of his class from the Sparsian Academy, his talents taking him directly to graduation day a full three years before normal scholars. But Savian was far from a normal scholar. During his time at Sparsian, the one who was formerly looked upon by farming villagers as ‘dumber than a rock’ discovered an innate talent for military tactics and strategy. He was one unparalleled in fencing, matchless in his alluring features, and especially without equal in debate. Also was he known for having gained a feared and respected reputation from faculty and students alike throughout the academy for his abnormal ability to learn and develop concepts effortlessly. The “Prodigy of Zar" didn’t make it three steps from the graduation ceremonies at the academy before being approached by an aging Cyrus Soulstice III, czar of all Calismus himself. Cyrus had been greeting and congratulating every single graduate individually, and Savian, head of his class, emerged from the egress of the academy last.

Cyrus stood and stared into the eyes of the youth before commending him like the others. Such a prodigy couldn’t possibly be allowed to go to waste by seeking some menial job for some pathetic town or city administration. Cyrus dreamt a vision of an empire built upon the foundations of brilliant young innovation such as that brimming within the mind of Savian, and he sought out to consolidate the forces of intellect, power, creativity, and more importantly will. And from the reports received courtesy of Sparsian, not a mortal walking the planet held onto these qualities like Savian did.

Cyrus pulled Savian aside and wouldn’t hesitate for long before delving into the meaning of his meeting with the Sparsian phenomenon, walking along some with the aid of a single cane.

“Ah, congratulations on your graduation from the academy, Savian. You know, you’re the first graduate we’ve ever had to leave the academy at such an age. You must be quite proud of yourself." Cyrus gave a reassuring smile to the teenager, a grin that almost seemed all-too familiar, as if Savian had seen it a countless number of times previously.

“I suppose so. Just glad to be through with it, if you’d like some honestly, my lord."

“Haha, well at least that attitude shows signs of enthusiasm. You know, the future of our bountiful country entirely depends on you," Cyrus gave another smirk after concluding this time, the surface meaning of his words far from their actual depth.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, my lord." Savian flashed his own brilliant set of teeth in response to the aging czar, but this time found the reaction of his walking companion rather unexpected, as his countenance assumed one of almost grave seriousness.

“Savian, there is a reason I have come to speak with you like this. I want you to look directly into my eyes, Savian. I want you to look at me. Do you see this? Do you see the loss of what was once a beautiful face? Do you see the elderly features, the inability to stand up without the aid of this blasted walking stick? My dear lad, I speak with you for much more important reasons beyond acknowledging your departure from this prestigious institution. Savian, I want you to listen to me right now, and give your heart to the words that I’m about to tell you."

Savian only nodded, focusing intently on every syllable which would escape the leader’s lips, allowing every section of his speech to register.

“Ghalerion is growing, my lad. Growing more rapidly than any of the current world leaders can keep up with. Ghale is on the verge of falling into chaos, Tensoku is far too isolated to maintain perspective, the other countries can’t establish a government which will last more than a year, and I am far too aged and have lost far too much stamina to keep up with the expansion that Calismus has been seeing. What I have established is a mere foundation, the groundwork for an empire capable of controlling the majority of this Gaia. But I have grown far too incompetent and weak in my old age to continue building it. I have laid the first boards, Savian. And of every mortal walking this planet, I want you to erect the walls. I want you to construct the roof. And you, Savian Yros of Zar, will be the one to throw open those doors when it is all completed."

Savian caught sight of the slight trembling lower lip of the old man, his eyes seeming to have calmed during his discourse. Cyrus placed a palm proudly on the shoulder of Savian and closed his eyes, shutting them evermore to the struggles of his position atop the world’s fastest growing empire.

“I have searched ceaselessly for a successor, and on this day of the 207th Year of Gaius, I have finally found one."
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*CRITICAL: One who casts off loyalty to the deities and denies their position as divine and supreme; The Criticals believe in another plane of existence entirely, in which all things we have come to see as nature are manipulated by many different entities.