Post by Dungeon Master on Feb 29, 2016 23:18:06 GMT
Arcanos is a human world. It has been 1347 years since the first group of seafaring adventurers landed on the south western coast, now known as Neriza. They are said to have been lead to this new land by a great sea serpent. Though most of the crew died on the long perilous journey, ten survived. These ten are highly regarded, often being referred to with honorific titles, such as The First Heroes of Arcanos, The Greats Heroes of Arcanos, The First Ten, and The Great Ten.
While this new land appeared to look similar to the one they had left behind, something felt different. It was as if there was a living stream of energy flowing through the air, the wind, the earth, in the rays of light, and even in the shadows.
The First Ten were not idle hands. Not all of them chose to settle when they landed, claiming this land as their own. Instead, some explored. They moved up the coast until they hit extreme colds and ice. Then, they began their trek inland.
It was then they discovered a strange race, Dwarves. These people were much shorter than them, but solidly built, tougher than even the mightiest of their own. These people dug deep into the Terra producing metals and gems of incredible strength and beauty. The Dwarves forged weapons greater than any the humans had ever wielded. Their armors deflected the weak metals from their homeland with ease. Some of humans were impressed by the dwarves and chose to stay and live with them. Still, others chose to keep exploring. The Dwarves spoke of a magical people in the great woods south of their mountains they called Elves.
The elves were a graceful race, quick in thought, free in spirit. They showed the humans incredible magics and arts. Their culture was rich, their woodland homes beautiful. The elves sung and dance in the moonlight. Some of the humans chose to stay in the reverie, while yet still, other held curiosity on the greater world. The elves warned them to head west through the plains, and to not venture south. They spoke of a harsh land filled with savage brutes.
Heeding the advice, the humans went west. The vast plains drenched in Solalight were warm and welcoming, much like the kind little Halflings they met there. These people traveled about the plains and enjoyed telling stories and a good meal. Some of the humans enjoyed their mirth and stayed. The remaining humans thought ‘we can either return to where we landed or head south’. In spirit of adventure, they headed south.
The land became barren, the wind whipped dust in their faces. It was a hard and cruel place. And so too were the Orcs that roamed there. They were a strong and fierce people, divided into tribes. They survived were most would perish. But, despite their difficult surroundings they were close. Family and tribe were a devoted connection. Some of the humans appreciated this and stayed.
Only one of The First Ten left. This human decided to head back to the beginning, to tell them all they had seen. All the races they had met. As they skirted between plains and a new woods they heard laughter. It wasn’t the deep hearty laughter of the Dwarves. It wasn’t the fluttering laughter of the elves. Nor the giggles of the Halflings or the guttural chuckles of the orcs. It was strange, almost mischievous laughter. The final human stepped into the woods to explore what might be the source of this laughter.
What happened to the last of The Great Heroes is not known.
While this new land appeared to look similar to the one they had left behind, something felt different. It was as if there was a living stream of energy flowing through the air, the wind, the earth, in the rays of light, and even in the shadows.
The First Ten were not idle hands. Not all of them chose to settle when they landed, claiming this land as their own. Instead, some explored. They moved up the coast until they hit extreme colds and ice. Then, they began their trek inland.
It was then they discovered a strange race, Dwarves. These people were much shorter than them, but solidly built, tougher than even the mightiest of their own. These people dug deep into the Terra producing metals and gems of incredible strength and beauty. The Dwarves forged weapons greater than any the humans had ever wielded. Their armors deflected the weak metals from their homeland with ease. Some of humans were impressed by the dwarves and chose to stay and live with them. Still, others chose to keep exploring. The Dwarves spoke of a magical people in the great woods south of their mountains they called Elves.
The elves were a graceful race, quick in thought, free in spirit. They showed the humans incredible magics and arts. Their culture was rich, their woodland homes beautiful. The elves sung and dance in the moonlight. Some of the humans chose to stay in the reverie, while yet still, other held curiosity on the greater world. The elves warned them to head west through the plains, and to not venture south. They spoke of a harsh land filled with savage brutes.
Heeding the advice, the humans went west. The vast plains drenched in Solalight were warm and welcoming, much like the kind little Halflings they met there. These people traveled about the plains and enjoyed telling stories and a good meal. Some of the humans enjoyed their mirth and stayed. The remaining humans thought ‘we can either return to where we landed or head south’. In spirit of adventure, they headed south.
The land became barren, the wind whipped dust in their faces. It was a hard and cruel place. And so too were the Orcs that roamed there. They were a strong and fierce people, divided into tribes. They survived were most would perish. But, despite their difficult surroundings they were close. Family and tribe were a devoted connection. Some of the humans appreciated this and stayed.
Only one of The First Ten left. This human decided to head back to the beginning, to tell them all they had seen. All the races they had met. As they skirted between plains and a new woods they heard laughter. It wasn’t the deep hearty laughter of the Dwarves. It wasn’t the fluttering laughter of the elves. Nor the giggles of the Halflings or the guttural chuckles of the orcs. It was strange, almost mischievous laughter. The final human stepped into the woods to explore what might be the source of this laughter.
What happened to the last of The Great Heroes is not known.
