From Ashes

From Ashes Open

This is the place, this is the time. Bring us up into the light; up through the ashes. Let the one who will rule be born. Let us serve the Lord of the Ashes!

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Owner: The Adversary
Game Masters: The Adversary
Tags: , advanced, ashes, east, fantasy, gods, intermediate, king, lord, north, prophecy, south, war, west (Add Tags »)

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The two rarest areas for humans to live in Arhk'morina was the west and the north. They were the two harshest landscapes in the world, their climates not usually very supportive of the human race. They preferred the east and the south, where the temperatures were mild and the land more bearable. Some humans felt locked there, though. They wanted to see the vast and powerful west, or the rugged but beautiful north. Some learned to ignore and live with the extreme heat and cold, others could not and simply returned to the east or south after learning that they were not among the stronger humans.

Faust did not leave the east because he wanted adventure. He did not leave because he felt trapped. He left out of shame. Out of sorrow. He blamed himself for the deaths of his parents, but was surprised to find that in the north his luck seemed to grow against the tide of bad luck ebbing from the evil star in the heavens that had taken ahold of his life. Nonetheless, he learned to love the north. The frozen ocean surrounding it had felt more like a home to him than the high walls and militant atmosphere of Nalla. He had thrown away the uniform and poleaxe of Nalla, and embraced the ways of the highest regions of the world.

Many from the west had come here today. They sought the master craftsmanship found in the north. He had observed a mutual respect - though not without a hint of envy - from the Djinni towards the Hieme. They who were the "children" of the god of metallurgy were bested by those who served the goddess of the hunt. He had never been one for steel and iron armor. Though he found more comfort with an axe than a sword, he preferred the flexibility and light weight of leather and cloth - which is what most humans in the north wore as well.

He made his way through the gathered crowds, passing humans, Djinni, Hieme, Saetesh, and even the odd Minakri'i. Though the north was a harsh land, it had the most diverse population of all the regions of Arhk'morina. The weight of the battle ax on his back, the hatchets and tomahawk on his belt, and the daggers in his boots were almost second nature to him now. The fur and leather provided plenty warmth for him. He had always loved winter in the east when he was younger, now he lived in a land where the season never ended.

He noticed one particularly sizeable crowd, among the gathered were even a few other blacksmiths. He paused, curious as to what could be attracting this kind of attention. Faust made his way to the crowd and easily moved through it. His clothing and weapons marked him as a particular kind of person in the north: A Viking. Aside from the stereotype, the vikings were not all pirates. His particular langskip had been involved in trading and even fighting off the true pirates - which was how he received the scar on the right side of his face.

He reached the front of the crowd and ignored the shouts and chatter of the bidding taking place around him. He looked over the pieces of armor, noting the craftsmanship and even the signature of the particular blacksmith. His eyes rose from the armors to the maker. He seemed short for a Hieme - most of whom where quite tall and very powerful in apperance. He glanced once more at the armor and felt the trace of a smile on his lips. He listened to the bidders and the prices they shouted. The smile grew just a little as he looked back up at the blacksmith, "Are you new to the game?" he asked. "Or are you simply a natural at turning a profit for quality goods?" he asked over the noise crowd.