Difference between revisions of "Cult of Bashir"

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==Cause and Effect===
===Cause and Effect===


The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations
The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations
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The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations
The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations


At the Temple's exterior, the onslaught of Bashir continued as he unleashed havoc upon the Echten Knights and the surviving members of the Coven. The Thrall, the strongest of the Echten Knights, engaged Bashir upon the battlefield. The ground trembled underneath the steps of the two behemoths as they battled for control of the City of Dreams.
At the Temple's exterior, the onslaught of Bashir continued as he unleashed havoc upon the [[Echten Knights]] and the surviving members of the Coven. The Thrall, the strongest of the [[Echten Knights]], engaged Bashir upon the battlefield. The ground trembled underneath the steps of the two behemoths as they battled for control of the City of Dreams.


The woman dressed in white silks became distraught as she witnessed the lawless action of the participants in the bitter war. She could no longer remain silent as the fatalities piled high, and more and more dreamers fell. She began to speak out, her ethereal voice resonating through the room, "These lawless crimes cannot continue to go unchallenged. We must restore order where chaos reigns." But despite her efforts, her voice is drowned out by the sound of metal upon metal and the screams of unimaginable pain in the harsh realities of combat.
The woman dressed in white silks became distraught as she witnessed the lawless action of the participants in the bitter war. She could no longer remain silent as the fatalities piled high, and more and more dreamers fell. She began to speak out, her ethereal voice resonating through the room, "These lawless crimes cannot continue to go unchallenged. We must restore order where chaos reigns." But despite her efforts, her voice is drowned out by the sound of metal upon metal and the screams of unimaginable pain in the harsh realities of combat.
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Cane's eyes widened as blood trickled onto the ground. He had impaled Zar'tenya with the blade but much to his disbelief, the assassin did not cry out in pain, she simply labored to breath. "He has casted you aside, Zar'tenya. I am now his favorite apprentice. You shall never find the redemption you seek. You will die by my hand!" said Cane in an exhausted voice, clearly tired from the confrontation.
Cane's eyes widened as blood trickled onto the ground. He had impaled Zar'tenya with the blade but much to his disbelief, the assassin did not cry out in pain, she simply labored to breath. "He has casted you aside, Zar'tenya. I am now his favorite apprentice. You shall never find the redemption you seek. You will die by my hand!" said Cane in an exhausted voice, clearly tired from the confrontation.


"I do not seek redemption, Cane, I simply seek to survive," Zar'tenya spoke in between labored breaths. She spat in his face; and as he removed his hands from the blade to wipe the spit from his cheek, Zar'tenya quickly removed the dagger impaled in her avatar and stabbed Cane in his midsection. Her pale fingers reaffirmed their grip around the hilt as she twisted it further and pulled upwards on it, and it sliced through Cane's avatar. Cane stood up, and attempted to stop the bleeding as he stumbled about wildly. He crashed down onto his knees, and his avatar exploded revealing his soulsphere.
"I do not seek redemption, Cane, I simply seek to survive," Zar'tenya spoke in between labored breaths. She spat in his face; and as he removed his hands from the blade to wipe the spit from his cheek, Zar'tenya quickly removed the dagger impaled in her avatar and stabbed Cane in his midsection. Her pale fingers reaffirmed their grip around the hilt as she twisted it further and pulled upwards on it, and it sliced through Cane's avatar. Cane stood up, and attempted to stop the bleeding as he stumbled about wildly. He crashed down onto his knees, and his avatar exploded revealing his [[soulsphere]].


Zar'tenya lifted herself from the ground as the blood from her wound ran down her garments. She glanced at the soulsphere one last time and she placed her hands together. "Your treachery ends now, tyrant." With those words, the assassin claimed another victim to her long list of dreamstruck dreamers.
Zar'tenya lifted herself from the ground as the blood from her wound ran down her garments. She glanced at the [[soulsphere]] one last time and she placed her hands together. "Your treachery ends now, tyrant." With those words, the assassin claimed another victim to her long list of dreamstruck dreamers.


A soul essence appeared in the place where Cane's soulsphere had hovered seconds prior. Remulus glanced at Zar'tenya briefly as he approached Cane's soul essence. "You always were my favorite, my queen. You are so intent on surviving that you can overcome nearly the impossible…" He crushed the soul essence underneath his foot with a single stomp. Zar'tenya spoke softly, "Of course, my master."
A soul essence appeared in the place where Cane's [[soulsphere]] had hovered seconds prior. Remulus glanced at Zar'tenya briefly as he approached Cane's [[soul essence]]. "You always were my favorite, my queen. You are so intent on surviving that you can overcome nearly the impossible…" He crushed the soul essence underneath his foot with a single stomp. Zar'tenya spoke softly, "Of course, my master."


Good and evil, black and white, and the many shades in between. What shade are you?
Good and evil, black and white, and the many shades in between. What shade are you?

Revision as of 01:26, 22 September 2020

Idoac2.png


A short journey along the Edward Barrows leads you to the stronghold Cult of Bashir

Shades of Truth Era History


Cult of Bashir, as described by Canis Aird'righ, with backstory.

Cultofbashir.jpg

"We'z a'ouse 'at worships Bashir, a god o' love, gen'rosity, 'n fergiveness. We'z a peaceful 'ouse, 'cept where it comes ter defendin' ourselves 'r fightin' 'e Echt. 'oo are Bashir eternal enemy" - "Well 'iss true, we'z 'ad a bad reputation, but 'iss completely unnerstandable. See, I acshally'ave unique perspective on'e whole matter. I was on the side 'at 'elped ter banish Bashir." - " I was a member o' 'e Emancipators o' Men."

"When Bashir first appeared, we 'ad a 'ard time figgering' out what ter do. 'E didna look like a dreamer, 'n we mistook 'im fer a demon. So we, 'e emancipators, attacked." "A'course, 'e Cult did what any'un would do.. 'ey fought back." " It esculated, 'n turned inner an all-out war.." "I remember 'earn' a couple folks tell me 'at. 'e next part o' me story is where i realized ye was right..." " See, we, 'e enemies o' 'e Cult, 'as finally cornered Bashir 'n banished 'im, temporarily, from 'e dream, but ye know what bashir's last action was? Exackly what ye'd expect o' him, if ye e'er lissened ter what 'e Cult ac'shully said Bashir was like... 'E blessed 'iz enemies wit' spheres. 'Ats when I realized... mebbe 'ey easna lyin'... and suddenly, Bashir whispered in my ear. wit' no'un around. I was confused at first, but figgered out it was Bashir quickly, 'n 'e tol' me 'e needed me.

I tol' 'im I b'lieve in a dreamers right ter freedom, 'n wunt agree if'e house is gonner try'n force folks ter foller 'im, but Bashir assured me 'at wouldna be 'e case. So 'e called me... ter create fer 'im an army. An army ter be used ter fight 'e Eccht, 'n 'e darkness they support. Since 'en... Our old ruler, Ra'as, died. 'E was a good, misunnerstood man 'at was too quick ter fight, but wit' our new ruler, Anyasha, in power, 'n me at 'er side, we'z convinced 'e dream 'at our intentions are truly peaceful. In fact 'iss in our sciptures 'at we are ter try'n bring Bashir back, 'n 'at Bashir will save all dreamers, ev'n those 'at tried ter kill 'im."

Beliefs

The cult was a religious organisation focused on the worship and glorification of the self-styled deity Bashir. Followers were rewarded in many tangible ways for their zealous loyalty, while non-believers were persecuted. The newest incarnation of the Cult calls themselves The Chosen.

Central Figures

UotC Initiate.gif
  • Bashir - An ancient dreamer(?) of immense power, worshiped as a deity by modern dreamers.
  • Ra'as - Founding member and first chosen.
  • Anyasha - Founding member and second chosen.
  • Sala Erosa - Founding member and later co-leader of The Triad.
  • Terelius Ignium - Founding member and later co-leader of The Triad.
  • Gromnir - Co-leader of The Triad.

Members of the House

Past Rulers:

Chosen Ones: Ra'as, Anyasha

Triad: Sala Erosa, Terelius Ignium, Gromnir

Guardians: Canis Aird'righ, Sevlen

Initiates: Jade, Grey, Raein, Mercury, Hans, Dashia, Gosu, Perunda, Lost Soul

Diplomacy

Fiercely opposed to the Sect of the Prudent and Emancipators of Men (but less so). Disapproving of but neutral towards the Emergence Academy.

Rise & Fall

The cult rose to immense power when Bashir was given form. Followers were also granted the "perfect form" (an avatar similar to a Hotai, or Horron). The faction struggled constantly with the Sect and the Emancipators, resulting in many different wars, subterfuge, murders, arguments, etc. Once the Cult's ancient rival, the Coven of the Echt, re-emerged in the city, the Cult focused primarily on the eradication of this faction.

The Cult lost its power base largely due to the absence of key figures and then was not able to make it through the variant shifts. Bashir's avatar was shattered in Idoaclesia - spawning the city's nightmares and ushering in a new age of uncertainty for the Cult, who only recently emerged again under the banner of The Chosen.

The Cult of Bashir was established by Ra'as, first Chosen of Bashir, in Edgeward Stronghold.

One day while traveling the City, Ra’as heard a voice speaking to him. It promised him things beyond his wildest dreams in extreme for simple service and supplication. He followed the voice to Edgeward Stronghold, and there it was given a name: Bashir.

Ra’as was an incredible orator, able to stir up emotion and garner support with a few words. Dreamers flocked to support this new power, most enticed by Bashir’s ability to grant spheres and powers to those that served him. The Emancipators of Men and the Sect of the Prudent stood by on the sidelines, suspicious of this entity calling itself and god and demanding its followers to engage in ritualistic bloodletting to empower it.

Bashir was known to recruit in whispers similar to how Ra’as was recruited, using this tactic to gain key members to further his goals. Sala Erosa, Sevlen, and later Anyasha were known to be recruited by this method… each saying that the voice compelled them more powerfully than anything they have ever known.

Notable members: Ra’as (first Chosen), Anyasha (second Chosen), Sala Erosa (Voice of Bashir), Sevlen (Sword of Bashir), Gromnir (Sword of Bashir), Terelius Ignium, Canis Aird’righ, Jade, Grey, Raein, Mercury, Hans, Dashia, Gosu, Perunda.

After charades as appearing as a woman and occasionally a man, Bashir eventually appeared as its true form: a horron. On the evening Bashir appeared as a horron, all of his faithful were expelled from the City, and when they returned they, too, were beasts of varying strength. The evening was spent on the offensive, terrorizing the Emancipators of Men and the Sect of the Prudent who had engaged in their slaughter for weeks without mercy. This form became known as “The Perfect Form,” and was a principle goal of many of the ritualistic bloodletting that followed. Once the faithful achieved this form they did everything in their power to appease Bashir to grant it again, and in that way Bashir kept them hooked.

The Variant Walkers: Soraya and the Death of A’kmar Ralnora

It is important to note that Bashir’s greatest strength was his ability to wield Dreamstrike, and grant it to his Chosen. One day early in the struggle against Bashir, two members of The Sect of the Prudent materialized, claiming to have traveled from another variant (that is, another version of the City) in pursuit of Bashir. Their names were Soraya and A’kmar Ralnora, and they called themselves Variant Walkers.

Armed with two skilled fighters, I led (still as Master Templar) A’kmar Ralnora, Soraya, and the rest of the Sect to the Barrows to confront Bashir and Ra’as. Unbeknownst to us, Bashir had empowered Ra’as with a talisman capable of slaying dreamers with Dreamstrike. We were facing a slaughter, the Sect of the Prudent being turned back by Bashir’s power to attack with arts we had never heard of.

Sensing our demise, A’kmar Ralnora pushed further, shouting for us to flee. I told the same to the Templars of the Sect, who retreated. Facing Ra’as and Bashir, A’kmar Ralnora charged with his spear, aiming to finally slay Ra’as. Ra’as prevailed, murdering A’kmar Ralnora in the small path preceding the Edgeward Stronghold. I scooped up his soul essence and fled, determined to honor his sacrifice by giving his remains to Soraya.

Upon hearing the news, Soraya became enraged, and would have hurried off to a similar fate unless the Sect had interceded to stop her. She was never the same after A’kmar’s death. She never recovered her love of life, and replaced it with an intense hatred for anyone not of the Sect.

The Death of Ra’as

We learned during those times that Bashir was an ancient entity locked in an eternal struggle against the Yissen Knights, whose sole purpose was to vanquish the being. Their own lifespan was tied to Bashir’s, making their age incomprehensible, with Kal’lankissa, Elder Dreamseer Teacher, referenced as being more than 40,000 years old, and Prayenth, Elder Soulmaster Teacher, a similar age.

In an effort to combat Bashir, the leaders of the houses were enlisted to obtain Dreamstrike in order to slay Bashir by the Etchen. The leaders were warned that with great power comes great vulnerability, as obtaining Dreamstrike requires a dreamer to expose their soul essence, which, if destroyed, causes the death of the dreamer.

While I do not entirely remember the circumstances for acquiring the soul essence of Ra’as, I obtained it, and was effectively in control of whether Ra’as lived or died. It occurred to me, briefly, that I could have him do my bidding until I lose control of the essence, but instead I made my decision brief: I sentenced him to death, and crushed his soul essence underneath my boot.

Instantly, a wail emanated from within Ra’as, and he was sucked as if through a portal out of our City and ceased to dream.

While we found out later that his demise was temporary, without his dreaming to guide the Cult, they lost a substantial amount of their power and influence, or for months lingered a hair’s breadth from closure. When Bashir was ultimately defeated by the Yissen Knights and dreamers, and the thousands of fragments scattered throughout the City to become what we know as the lesser beasts, the Cult was finally abolished. ~Cuero/Sevlen

The Cult of Bashir

I first began dreaming a day or two after the Great Awakening. I was young, vulnerable and confused. I couldn't find a soul as I aimlessly searched...until one dream, a soft reassuring voice carried over the Barrows sands and whispered in my ear. I followed the soothing words all the way up to the stronghold at the end of the path, but no one was to be seen. I decided to wait and return another dream. When I did, I was met with a group of dreamers. I explained my feeling of being drawn to the fortress. They were delighted to enlighten me and give a name for the voice.

I was told that long ago there was a pantheon of gods – thirteen in total. When dreamers started to flood the City, those of the gods turned and left. Bashir was the only one that took interest in our existence and decided to stay to watch over us. Life in the dream began to flourish, but then came a great Darkness. Being of the dream itself and in his kindness, Bashir fought it. So great was the battle, that scars remained above the Evernight sky and stained the Edgeward bloody. The battle raged on, until finally, in his incredibly weakened state, Bashir managed to cast out this wretched Darkness. So weakened, he went to rest, and was then without a body. As time moved forward, dreamers came and went; the City was now in ruins.

Then came the Great Awakening, which was a flood of dreamers breathing life back into the dream. Bashir began to stir, reaching out for assistance to his first Chosen, Ra'as, through whispers. Ra'as rose to the occasion and began to preach of the “God” Bashir and his peaceful wishes to bring protection and happiness to us all. He formed a following, and they soon aided Bashir in his restoration.

Us Faithful were met with firm resistance in carrying out our endeavors from opposing houses; namely, the Sect of the Prudent and the Emancipators of Men. We fought back, using Bashir's blessings of the Perfect Form (among other things) to even the playing field. The Perfect Form was an avatar similar to a Horron. We believed we were fighting for love and peace...hoping that one day everyone would realize the Great One's true intentions and that we would all be under one banner.

All he asked for in return for his protection and magnificent blessings was servitude and blood sacrifice. My naive self thought that was reasonable, when it came to the wonderful path he set before us.

Eventually, the Cult lost its power base largely due to the absence of key figures, and then was not able to make it through the variant shifts. Bashir was supposedly 'defeated' despite his god-status, driving the final nail into this faction's coffin.


Paramount figures: Ra’as – First Chosen Anyasha – Second Chosen Terelius Ignium – Heart Sala Erosa – Voice Gromnir – Sword Jade – Compassion Xyn Rhade – Will

by Jade

Invasion

The 3th day of the 2th cycle, Year of Strife

Zar'tenya meditated peacefully in the sanctuary of the Lambent Flats. The City had been quiet for the past few months since the fall of Bashir. The temple of Bashir had been claimed by a peculiar man, Cedryk Orgoth. He called it the House of Orgoth, after his namesake. The Edgeward Barrows, he had claimed them to be under Orgoth control, calling them Orgoth Plains. He was aided by a former Echten Knight, known as Ketill.

Far off in the Valley of Totalility, now known as the Valley of Nobility, a mysterious woman led a movement with another former Echten Knight, known as Slirenie. The two women spoke of honorable deeds and virtue from within their stronghold, known as the Tribunal of Solara.

Kal'lankissa had recovered but since the fall of Bashir, she was not seen beyond the chambers of the Library of Idoaclese, as her appearances became less frequent. Amaymon went into self-exile after taking the life of the human Thrall, whom he learned was known as Jarelek, a noble warrior in his time who joined the Echt in order to protect his own home, much like himself. Amaymon's grief became unbearable, he vanished without a trace leaving behind the 'Sabre of All' hidden within the City of Dreams.

Remulus walked through the portal and startled Zar'tenya from her meditation. "The City is under attack by some beasts. Hordes of them, of all kinds. You fight one, another takes it place. The dreamers are unable to fend them off, it is truly chaotic out there." he said in a loud voice.

"I thought you would be excited at such, my master." said Zar'tenya and she slowly opened her eyes and raised herself up from her meditative position.

"In other circumstances, perhaps. This is madness. Where did these things come from?" asked Remulus as removed his shield momentarily, his avatar bruised and turning different shades of blue and black.

"The Shards of Bashir. But much smaller fragments of different sizes. When Bashir fell, his shards were scattered all throughout the City of Dreams. Over the months, the fragments thrived in our City and merged with the very fabric of the City. Using the very essence of the City, the fragments take many different forms to manifest themselves," said Zar'tenya as she cracked her neck as she tilted her head slightly.

"How do you know all this?" asked Remulus with a cynical look upon his face.

"I have fought them before, my master. The snake-like Wyrms, the four legged Chimeras, the slithering Krakkens, and the deadly Shades. The most fearsome of them all, the Revenants. I have fought their strongest kind within their own nest, the Dark Awakening. It is time, my master." replied Zar'tenya, her words slicing through the air. She vanished through the portal, as Remulus became confused at her words.

"She has become far too dangerous indeed. She will soon unlock her true potential, she must die soon..." whispered Remulus to himself as he flared his nostrils.

As Remulus vanished through the portals, the two dreamers would go to fight the hordes of creatures that now invaded the City of Dreams, such beasts became a thing of...

...nightmares.

- The Chronicler

Foundations

The 21th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations

The Great Clash was finally over.

The surviving dreamers began to depart from the blood stained battlefield that had just been the stage of one of the greatest battles in the history of the City of Dreams. The human Echten had departed in a state of confusion, unsure of what they would do next. Remulus and Zar'tenya exited quietly through the portals. Amaymon carried an exhausted Kal'lankissa in his arms to safety. The rest of the dreamers soon vanished through the portal in a somber state.

Cedryk Orgoth remained alone as he quietly assessed the damages of the Temple. "Gra cha cha cha! This shall suffice . I shall claim this in the name of Orgoth. From this day forth, it shall be hence forth known as the House Orgoth! And the lands extending from it shall be known as the Orgoth Plains. Gra, cha cha cha!" laughed Cedryk after making his declaration despite no one else being present.

The portal materialized as one of the Echten human appeared before Cedryk. The dreamer stood tall, wearing a patch over his right eye with a scar protruding from either side. His hair was fiery red but cut diminutively short and in disarray. He sported a dark red beard with no traces of it having been groomed in years.

The man spoke in a gruffed voice as he addressed Cedryk, "Mmm, I think we have matters to be discussin'. Ketill is the name." He made no effort to extend a hand forward, his hollowed eyed staring directly at Cedryk.

"I'm listening..." replied Cedryk as he walked towards Ketill with his unusual gait.

Elsewhere, in the depths of the Valley, the mysterious woman in white silks walked alone through the narrow paths. She encountered three dreamers she had never seen before at the Amphitheater of Spheres. The three dreamers leveled their gaze upon the mysterious woman, studying her with careful inspection. One dreamer moved forward and introduced himself as Clarion, leader of the Obsidian Order. He introduced the other two dreamers as Jormunrek and Phanuel.

Clarion had explained that he and his comrades were just taking a final stroll through the Valley, that they were summoned elsewhere and had to leave the City of Dreams behind. The mysterious woman looked perplexed momentarily but she understood if they wanted to reveal their reasons, they would have done so, she did not persist with a line of inquiry. Clarion spoke of the fort at the end of the Valley which he regretted to abandoned. This caught the woman's attention as she began to inquire about it. Clarion offered to show her the fort, moments later the four dreamers headed towards the Valley stronghold.

As they arrived, the mysterious woman was taken by surprise at the beauty of the stronghold. It had appeared to be untouched by the hands of time as it remained in pristine condition. Clarion noticed the mysterious woman's reaction.

"She is beautiful, isn't she?" said Clarion in a refined voice with a slight unknown accent of sorts.

"She is beautiful, yes." responded the mysterious woman at Clarion's question.

"She's a strong one, she's endured everything that has been thrown her way for the last couple centuries. And she ain't going down anytime soon." interjected Clarion as he surveyed the fort as if it were his first time laying eyes upon it. "We've been here for decades ourselves, but alas we must leave behind all that we cherish. We cannot remain here," he continued.

"That is disheartening. I must ask why you would vacate this beautiful home? She can protect you in the dreams to come. There is another reason you are not telling me," the mysterious woman said as her eyes left the structure of the fort and landed upon Clarion's gaze.

"In truth, there is, lady. I am sorry, what did you say your name was?" asked Clarion.

"My name is not important, Clarion. Please continue." answered the mysterious woman.

Clarion simply shrugged a moment, he continued to speak, "There was a time of great peace in this City but then all the war broke out and it lasted for well over a decade. Dreamers have fought at our doorsteps and until recently, we were at peace within our home. That is until those beyond the portal began to fight at our doorstep. We sought to remove ourselves from all the fighting but instead we found ourselves fighting on many occasions. This City remains hopeless. It seems to have always known strife and war. We must leave, we sense a great danger in the horizon, we can't shake the feeling. We just rather not be caught in its wake."

"You can change it for the better, Clarion." interjected the mysterious woman.

"No, we do not wish to change things. We tried once and our leader went mad and took the child we were protecting with him and turned her into an assassin. We have become truly disenchanted with this City, our place is no longer here." Clarion said, a look of sadness emerged on his face.

"I do not mean to bring to life such painful memories." the mysterious woman said.

"Don't worry, but regardless, we are leaving and this fort is going to be abandoned." said Clarion, his face stiffened.

"Such a beautiful home, it can serve a great and honorable purpose if you will allow it." said the mysterious woman.

"Another shall inherit as we once did. If you desire it, you may inherit her halls if your intentions are pure and noble, lady." Clarion admonished the mysterious woman.

"They are, Clarion. The deeds of this great and honorable house shall spread far and wide for a noble cause." the mysterious woman said, her voice sounded nearly musical as she spoke with such pride.

"Then she is yours, but I warn you should you fall back on your word, we shall return to claim her again." Clarion said as he gave the fort one final look, "What shall you call it?"

"I will bring the traditions of my people into the City. I shall call it the Tribunal of Solara, after the race of my people and my shard." said the mysterious woman.

"Ah, so you are Solara then?" Clarion asked with a grin on his face.

"No. I said it was not important." the mysterious woman in white said, her lips formed a slight smile.

"Be well, lady. We wish you the best of luck..." Clarion said as he looked at his brothers and nodded swiftly.

Clarion, Jornunrek, and Phanuel took one final look at the stronghold before they vanished through the portal. The mysterious woman remained at the steps of the Valley stronghold. She closed her eyes and spoke onto herself, "Here shall be the birthplace of justice and honor within the City of Dreams. We shall be where only anarchy and dishonor thrives and put them to rest. All shall know of the deeds of those within assembly of the ranks within the great House of Tribunals."

Another woman walked into the room as the portal churned to life. "I heard your words just beyond the portals and they have called to me..." said the woman. The woman was of average height with dark black hair pulled into a nearly perfect pony tail. She wore a simple earth-toned dress marred around the hem. Green eyes stood out upon an otherwise bland face. She wore simple sandals upon her small feet.

"We shall speak more. You were one of the former Knights?" asked the mysterious woman in white silks.

"Yes, I took an oath thousands of years ago to protect the High Priest in all that he does. The bond of the oath turned me into a creature of great power, an Echten Knight. For thousands of years, I have fought in wars against Bashir. I am now freed from my bond. All that I once knew is gone. I seek a new purpose," said the woman dressed in earth-toned dress.

"Do you have a name?" asked the mysterious woman in white as she studied the other woman with intense eyes.

"Yes, Slirenie. Yours?" asked Slirenie with piercing green eyes.

"My name is not important, but welcome to the Tribunal of Solara..." said the mysterious woman.

- The Chronicler


Demonic Blight

The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations

Bashir and the Cult were close to victory with only the Yissen and the remaining Echten Knights standing in their path to complete domination of the City of Dreams. Remulus and Zar'tenya had aligned with the Yissen for reasons unknown. The two factions battled on through the night, more dreamers fell in the final battle of the Great Clash.

A weakened Kal'lankissa looked battered and nearly beaten from Ra'as' onslaught. She took a deep breath and formed another energy barrier around her avatar, her voice began to resonate in the mind of dreamers and beasts alike, "Knights of the Coven, fulfill your sworn pledge and you shall be released from the chains that bind you. Do not concern yourselves with the Shards, focus on the demon god himself."

The remaining Echten Knights suddenly became oblivious to the advances of the Shards and began to concentrate their fire against Bashir who stumbled back as pieces of his avatar broke off under the barrage of projectiles. Suddenly, tendrils shot forth from his avatar in every direction and as they coiled themselves around the avatars of the Shards and Faithful alike, he pulled them into his person.

Bashir's form began to mutate, another tendril shot forward and wrapped itself around the spectral form of Ra'as and merged the figure with the demonic creature, his form distorting and warping. In his newest manifestation, Bashir has become a Revenant, a creature of brute strength and many enchantments. Far stronger then any of the Shards or Knights combined.

Iolanta and Prayenth's avatar were torn asunder under the powerful blasts from the Revenant's mighty projectiles. Their soulspheres were quickly consumed as a series of tendrils erupted from Bashir's new form. Kal'lankissa felt the loss of her apprentices in her mind, so she summoned her most powerful champion, the Echten Thrall. She lowered her energy barrier and cast it upon the Thrall.

The Thrall charged at Bashir with cunning speed. The two massive beasts collided in battle once more, but with Bashir's new form and Kal'lankissa's barrier around the Thrall, neither could fell the other. Bashir quickly fetched his halberd and aimed it at the Thrall. A powerful discharge erupted from its tip but did not strike the shard. The energy barrier had reflected the blast and sent it back at its source.

Bashir roared in pain as his form shifted from the powerful Revenant and into a considerably weaker form known as the Wyrm, a snake-like creature with wings attached to its serpentine body. The halberd fell onto the ground as Bashir was unable to wield it again, limited by his Wyrm form. The Thrall struck a series of quick projectiles at Bashir, the demon god weakened further. The Thrall quickly gathered the halberd and rammed its base into the serpentine body of Bashir.

Bashir unleashed a deafening roar of agony as the Temple grounds shook all throughout the Edgeward Barrows. Bashir's avatar shifted through many forms, of different beasts and dreamers, beams of light began to shine through from within the demon's avatar as it cracked and began to crumble into small shards.

Suddenly, in a blinding flash of light followed by the sound of a loud explosion, Bashir's shards were hurled all throughout the City of Dreams, thousands upon thousands of fragments were scattered in places unknown.

The shock-waves of the blast had severely weakened the Thrall considerably. Kal'lankissa collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion. The Echten Thrall's hideous avatar began to transform into the shape of a dreamer's avatar. A beautiful male stood before the dreamers who looked on surprised and in awe. The male's body remained in a tattered cloak that left little to the imagination. The other surviving Echten Knights began to transform into dreamer form as well. Kal'lankissa glanced up and spoke in a weak voice, "Knights of the Echten, you are freed from your oaths. No longer are you among the Immortals." Her head tilted backwards, she had fainted.

Suddenly, the dreamer, Amaymon leaped forward and pulled out a blade, the Sabre of All, and plunged it within the heart of the Thrall's mortal form. The Thrall let out a human cry as his eyes widen momentarily before they shift towards Amaymon.

Amaymon held his grip upon the hilt of the Sabre of All, his voice faltered as he spoke, "That was for Geiru! For the fallen Emancipators! For Freedom! For the City of Dreams! FOR UNDERLIGHT!" The human Thrall's eyes rolled to the back of their head as he fell into the arms of Amaymon, limp and without motion, the blood staining Amaymon's garments. The human Thrall's avatar crumbled revealing a pale soulsphere, soon after, it dissipated.

One of the former Echten Knights, a rough looking woman looked in confusion, she wore a multi-colored halo upon her head, her eyes were moist as she held back tears. "Jarelek, nooo!" Another unfamiliar dreamer held her back, the two embraced and sob openly. Zar'tenya and Remulus glanced at each other looking confounded at the events.

Another human Echten looked at his hands with a look of revolt upon his face, "No! This cannot be! Why have I returned to this weak form! I did not want to be released from my oath. NO!" he shouted as a glazed look overcame his eyes. Cedryk Orgoth observed from the distance with a bushy eyebrow raised in intrigue.

- The Chronicler

Resurrection

The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations

Bashir decimated the Echten Knights as he tore through their ranks with ease. The battlegrounds became far more dangerous for all present as the beast threw their best each other. Firestorms, razorwinds, darkness, and dreamquakes overcame the room quickly and in succession. The Temple itself began to crumble piece by piece under the barrage of elements striking it from all sides.

Cedryk Orgoth could do nothing more than stand in absolute awe of the creatures, becoming memorized by their brute strength and raw power. His eyes shifted back and forth between each beast as they unleashed their arsenal of arts against one another. He rubbed his hands together in glee as he observed the dreamers being mowed down by the beasts. "Gra cha cha cha" snickered Cedryk as the beast continued in their melee.

Suddenly, three dreamers materialized through the portals in the form of the Yissen Masters, Kal'lankissa, Prayenth, and Iolanta. Kal'lankissa's words echoed in the minds of the dreamers through telepathic means. "Your time ends now, Bashir. We of the Yissen have come to fulfill our oath once and for all. You will draw your last breath this dream, demon."

Bashir scoffed and burst out into a deep guttural laughter. "You think you can stand against me, blind woman?" It is you who shall fall to my power," the creature replied in a booming voice. Kal'lankissa placed her hands together and as she began to recite a series of Yissen incantations, a barrier of energy surrounded her avatar. Bashir unleashed a barrage of chakrams towards Ka'lankissa with no affect. The powerful projectiles simply ricocheted off Kal'lankissa energy barrier. The redirected blasts struck the surrounding Shards immediately collapsing them instantly.

A deep guttural roar erupted from Bashir's avatar as he lifted his halberd into the heavens. A wave of energy shot into the air. Bashir erupted in a cacophony of laughter as he slammed the halberd onto the ground wedging into place, it continued to discharge energy into the clouds. "Come forth and stand at my side in our time of victory, my Chosen One," said Bashir in deep voice as his eyes flared up with energy discharges.

A whirlwind of energy formed around the halberd. The spectral form of a dreamer emerged within the spectacle before the dreamers. "By my blood and oath am I so bound." said the spectral dreamer as it kneel before Bashir. "My Chosen One, I have saved you from the grasp of death. Our time is here, the destruction of Underlight is at hand!" said Bashir as he narrowed his eyes upon the spectral dreamer.

Kal'lankissa's voice resonated in the minds of all dreamers present. "The fate of the City remains in your hands. The demon seeks to claim the City of Dreams as his own. Will his claim go unchallenged?" Iolanta and Prayenth charged forward against the Faithful of Bashir.

"Foolish dreamers, you do not understand the forces you meddle with" spoke the spectral dreamer as discharged a jolt of energy against Kal'lanissa, the blind Yissen woman fell onto her knees with a loud grunt. "Despair, mortals. I am your doom," shouted the spectral dreamer to all those gathered.

- The Chronicler

Cause and Effect

The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations

Remulus shifted his attention to the two young dreamers engaged in battle at the steps of the Temple. A smile formed in the corner of his lips as he watched with intrigue and amusement. Zar'tenya's facial expression betrayed a look of disdain as she quickly sighed to herself. Cedryk Orgoth continued his offense against the woman clad in white silks.

The woman in white managed to evade her attacker's strike and countered others with the gauntlet still on her right hand. Cedryk continued to strike at the woman repeatedly and every missed or blocked strike appeared to fuel his determination. The woman simply continued to defend herself without raising arms against Cedryk.

A stray projectile from one of the Echten Knights quickly made its way near the woman and she raised her gauntlet to absorb the blast. Cedryk quickly capitalized on this distraction, and quickly struck the woman on her side with his blade. The blade cut through her flesh with gory precision. Her eyes closed as her face scrunched in agony; her avatar shattered to pieces moments later.

"Gra cha cha cha" laughed Cedryk as he boasted his victory over the woman. "The Orgoth way prevails!"

Remulus placed his hands together and glanced at the soulsphere. "The weak do not deserve to exist," said Remulus as the dreaded evocation began between his palms. A pale hand reached over and halted the evocation, lowering Remulus' hands down. Remulus quickly glared at his apprentice with anger present upon his face.

"Do you not see the conviction in her eyes? She is young and inexperienced now, but one day she will be a formidable opponent. Do you truly wish to rob yourself of such a worthy opponent, my master?" Zar'tenya said as she looked into the eyes of her master.

Remulus reflected on the words of his apprentice a moment, and the anger upon his face subsided. "Perhaps you are right but you will never again interfere with my affairs, do you understand?" admonished Remulus to his apprentice. He removed a soul essence from his pack and showed it to his apprentice. Zar'tenya simply glanced at the object momentarily before responding to him, "Yes, my master." She placed a pale hand on top of the pendent she wore around her neck. Taking a deep breath, she lowered her head.

Remulus removed a few chakrams from his pack as he smirked. "We still have some pest control to perform." He quickly swung a chakram at the back of one of the Echten Knights. Zar'tenya looked up as she whispered quietly to herself, "One day, my love…" as she placed the pendant behind her shift. The pendant began to glow faintly behind her garment. The battle was far from over.

Evil is in the eye of the beholder.

- The Chronicler

Seeds of Tomorrow

The 20th day of the 12th cycle, Year of Revelations

At the Temple's exterior, the onslaught of Bashir continued as he unleashed havoc upon the Echten Knights and the surviving members of the Coven. The Thrall, the strongest of the Echten Knights, engaged Bashir upon the battlefield. The ground trembled underneath the steps of the two behemoths as they battled for control of the City of Dreams.

The woman dressed in white silks became distraught as she witnessed the lawless action of the participants in the bitter war. She could no longer remain silent as the fatalities piled high, and more and more dreamers fell. She began to speak out, her ethereal voice resonating through the room, "These lawless crimes cannot continue to go unchallenged. We must restore order where chaos reigns." But despite her efforts, her voice is drowned out by the sound of metal upon metal and the screams of unimaginable pain in the harsh realities of combat.

However, one man heard the woman's message and a look of disgust immediately betrayed his face. Sneering, Cedryk Orgoth quickly responded to the woman's message, "Your words are for the weak."

"Weakness is not measured by those whom bathe in the abundance of ignorance," countered the woman.

Cedryk laughed in amusement, "Gra cha cha cha. The Orgoth way does not allow for such weakness. Only the fittest and strongest may survive in war. The weakness leads to failure and failure merits death."

"Words such as those are spoken only by barbarians and power mongers," replied the woman in white.

"Gra cha cha cha cha, taste the blade of Orgoth!" came the words from Cedryk before he unsheathed his rusted blade and charged at the woman in white. The woman donned a gauntlet in her right hand and stopped the oncoming blow by grasping the rusted blade and shattering it to pieces. Cedryk glanced at the woman with an incredulous look in his eyes. He removed another dagger from the sheath strapped to his calve, and swung it at the woman. She made no attempts to strike back at Cedryk.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, Cane and Zar'tenya continued to lash at each other for their survival. Both warriors showed signs of exhaustion as the fight raged with intensity. Suddenly, Zar'tenya was struck on the back of her head with the hilt of a blade. She stumbled forward and turned around; glaring at the last dreamer she expected to strike her, Remulus. Cane descended upon her with a dagger clenched in his hands.

Cane's eyes widened as blood trickled onto the ground. He had impaled Zar'tenya with the blade but much to his disbelief, the assassin did not cry out in pain, she simply labored to breath. "He has casted you aside, Zar'tenya. I am now his favorite apprentice. You shall never find the redemption you seek. You will die by my hand!" said Cane in an exhausted voice, clearly tired from the confrontation.

"I do not seek redemption, Cane, I simply seek to survive," Zar'tenya spoke in between labored breaths. She spat in his face; and as he removed his hands from the blade to wipe the spit from his cheek, Zar'tenya quickly removed the dagger impaled in her avatar and stabbed Cane in his midsection. Her pale fingers reaffirmed their grip around the hilt as she twisted it further and pulled upwards on it, and it sliced through Cane's avatar. Cane stood up, and attempted to stop the bleeding as he stumbled about wildly. He crashed down onto his knees, and his avatar exploded revealing his soulsphere.

Zar'tenya lifted herself from the ground as the blood from her wound ran down her garments. She glanced at the soulsphere one last time and she placed her hands together. "Your treachery ends now, tyrant." With those words, the assassin claimed another victim to her long list of dreamstruck dreamers.

A soul essence appeared in the place where Cane's soulsphere had hovered seconds prior. Remulus glanced at Zar'tenya briefly as he approached Cane's soul essence. "You always were my favorite, my queen. You are so intent on surviving that you can overcome nearly the impossible…" He crushed the soul essence underneath his foot with a single stomp. Zar'tenya spoke softly, "Of course, my master."

Good and evil, black and white, and the many shades in between. What shade are you?

- The Chronicler


See Also



Gallery



References

Codii as inscribed by Anyasha, available in the Archives of the Planes.