Land of Grennendia

Okies, so I thought I'd type up the story of the RPG in book form. It will be different; in some places considerably so. But bear with me. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

Prologue
The King of Corbep lay on the street floor, an arrow in his chest. He bled onto the ground around him, and darkness edged his vision. People around him attempted a version of the Heimlich manoeuvre, which simply pumped the blood out faster. Such fools surround me, the king thought.
The assassin wasn’t found. He simply disappeared. All that was glimpsed was a flash of long white hair. The arrow was enchanted; there was no chance of it missing. This left Corbep with a problem. The prince, having disappeared more then two years beforehand, obviously wasn’t around to succeed the throne. The Great War had only just ended, 6 years ago, and it seemed it was back with a vengeance. The council, being corrupt, are obviously evil scheming people and therefore must be the bad guys, according to narrative law. Funnily enough though, they aren’t. No, the bad guy in this tale is far worse. Ao Seruld is, being the only other empire in the land, naturally accused, while Ao Seruld accuses Corbep for the attacks on their traders.
Chaos descended upon the empire, which was rather ironic considering the events that would follow. They centred around a group of people; a conman, an orphan, and a man who was so depraved even his sword was crazy. In fact, just about anything is possible, as long as you’re brave enough to attempt it.
It is also the story of a Greek-style myth, a palace made of ice, and a crystal. About a race of magical people who are only 4 and half feet tall, and a big ice wyvern*.

This is the land of Grennendia.




*Who are not to be confused with dragons. Wyverns get really uptight about that, and it’s not wise to antagonise something three times the size of you that has a mouth that can fit a small elephant inside.

Chapter 1

A man sat in his rented room looking out the window. In Haleinis, the capital of Ao Seruld, there was a tradition of public speaking; anybody could stand up on one of the podiums around the square, and propose their case, be it about politics or religion or protests against improper use of magic and technology. In the centre of the square stood a statue of Empartheus, the most widely worshipped god in Grennendia. In reality, there were few others, and new religions died quickly. Despite it being cold, plenty of people were out both speaking and listening. Enterprising merchants set up their stalls around the statue. The Norvair mountain range loomed above the city, which glistened in the morning light after the night’s rain.
The man was called Nero. He watched with the air of someone who understands more then most, and sees not only what is there, but what isn’t. He wore a black robe with a dark red collar, and black gloves covered his hands. He wore high, black boots. And he had long, white hair.
Nero was well known in Grennendia, and infamous as one of the most powerful mages alive. He was also famous for having a seeming unlimited source of wealth. But he craved something more. He was the sort of person who you avoided in the street, and who didn’t actually need to pay for anything since fear makes an excellent currency. He didn’t even get robbed in the small towns, which were as lawless as a bag of cats.
He watched with a preoccupied look on his face. The King of Corbep had been murdered. Yes indeed.
Ao Seruld traders were being attacked. That was a fact, too.
And the best thing was the empires only suspected the other empire. That was human nature at work. Something bad is happening we don’t understand; who better to blame then those filthy foreigners?
Nero smiled. Sometimes people were very helpful.
He set off for the mountains next morning. He had a little something he needed to see.


Tulak Nord rested in his cave, the Hethrow Passage. It was just where the Norvair Mountains met the great Southern Forest. He was covered in scars, remnants from his fighting in the Great War. Because of the ambient magic in the area, these glowed blue. It was actually quite pretty, but people tried not to stare. He was human, contrary to popular belief among those who had met him.
He was of average height, with his white hair in a ponytail (a rare hairstyle in Grennendia) and the classic robes of a mage. They were blood red, with a white trim. He also had five pendants around his neck, each of which were attuned to a different element.
He got up and went for some supplies. It wasn’t that he needed any, but he wanted some exercise. He was all stiff and tired. Sleeping on a rock slab can do that to you.
He was wandering around, and felt suddenly what was wrong with him. It had taken him months to figure it out.
He was bored.
This had rarely happened before; it was a strange feeling. Well perhaps make a trip to Haleinis? It was where all the action was, these days. Technology and innovations every day, apparently. Well then, that was settled. To Haleinis.
This thinking may seem odd to an observer, but then Tulak was an unusual person.

An important character to introduce, in the story of how this land changed dramatically, is a boy named Cibhi. He was an orphan, and not to put too fine a point on it, a thief.
He was an intelligent thief though, so that’s all right. He was also surprisingly adept at fire magic.
In a peaceful town named Nendel is a merchant, chasing this boy through a thick crowd. He was yelling the generic cries of robbed traders everywhere, but this was unsurprisingly making little difference. The boy is not going to stop, since the punishment for stealing is the hands being cut off, and that tends to make the thief want to keep running.
Cibhi raced through the crowds, dodging and weaving while the merchant employed the less subtle methods of elbowing and shoving. He reached the open streets, with fewer people, where the merchant was joined by three guardsmen. Cibhi swore.
“Get back here, runt!” One of the guards shouted.
I don’t think so, Cibhi thought, and stopped long enough to conjure a spell in his mind.
A ball of flame erupted from his outstretched hand, to engulf the market stalls next to the guards, which burst into flame. The flame spread like, well, wildfire.
More swearing ensued as the guards were entangled with burning wood and cloth.
Cibhi grinned as he escaped the town, dashing through the gates. All that for a loaf of bread?
It had better be good bread.

Uh, just wonderin. When are you continuing this? I would like to read it.

Well, when i have spare time; so weekends most likely.
Also, i didn't know if anyone wnated me to.

I find reading books a rather great pass time. I like books and I would like you to continue please.

Lorians are an interesting race. They are about 4”5, on average, powerful mages, but poor warriors. They are also extremely adapted to nature. They live in the trees themselves, hollowing them with magic and siphoning the wood to cause the tree to grow.
One of the most prominent and rich was a man named Salvanar. He was naturally a kind person, except when really provoked, but he was plagued with problems.
The most significant of which involved an immense talent for Electrical Magic, so much so that storms tended to follow him around.
The clouds overheard discharged their static energy into a tree, splitting it in half.
Salvanar sighed, for the tenth time that day. It was if the lightning controlled him; he had no power over it whatsoever.

_____________________

Tulak wandered amongst the crowds of Haleinis. Those who saw him moved away. They would never acknowledge they were scared, but his scars and marking triggered an ancient fear of the unknown, and powerful magic.
He caught snatches of conversation;
“What? That’s a ridiculous price for eggs…”
“Ooh, that Aerul’s a ripe one, he is. Sent a few shivers down me spine…”
“Bread! Getcha bread here!”
“Did you see Cartsoff’s The Golden Mask? Bloody good play.”
“Yeah but some say he didn’t actually write it…”
Tulak smiled. Haleinis was so busy people didn’t have time to see and flee from him. He could pretend he almost belonged.
That is, until the highwayman. He was walking along the closed in, dark alleys, and surprise surprise a robber, with his friends pops out.
“Your money, good sir, or your life!” The man said, with an air of imperiousness that suggested he would take both.
A few minutes later, an unharmed Tulak Nord strolled out of the alley, once again feeling a little depressed.
***
Nero strolled among the mountains. Though, it was a purposeful stroll; he was on his way to a well-known, but relatively rarely visited landmark.
On the way, a large ice lizard attempted to waylay him. He blasted it to dust with ease, and continued.
He never broke his stride.
***
Both Salvanar and Tulak were on course to meet Nero. Salvanar was in love with nature and its wonders, and had decided to find the very same landmark as Nero.
Tulak was wandering among the mountains after leaving Haleinis, and indeed found Nero resting upon a rock, with his eyes closed and a crow resting on his knee. It cawed occasionally.
“Excuse me…aren’t you Nero?” Tulak asked. A grin played around Nero’s face for a second.
“I am indeed; what do you want? I have little time for petitions or questions.” He said coldly.
“Well...I was just asking…” Tulak said, surprised. He’d heard about Nero, but the stories didn’t do him justice. Even Tulak was slightly intimidated.
Nero smiled mirthlessly. Then he suddenly got up, and the crow flew off to the south. Tulak watched him walk away. It was a very sudden movement; Tulak barely had time to register it before Nero was around the corner. He blinked.
That man is…interesting, to say the least, he thought. Then he himself sat down on the rock, tired from his climb, and drifted off to sleep.

Salvanar and Nero were both heading for the same landmark; the Castle of Ice.
The Castle of Ice was a great mystery, that had puzzled historians and experts for centuries. It was literally a great palace made of Ice. It never melted, not did any more ice ever freeze on it. There was no record of how it got there, or who built it.
Nero got there first. It was deserted, despite being one of the most well known landmarks in Grennendia. It was more then just the difficulty of reaching it; there was an atmosphere about the place. It repelled most people. But Nero was not most people.
He forced open the great doors with magic, and searched in the freezing cold rooms for five minutes, before he found what he was looking for in the basement. In the basement, it was warm, with torches on the walls and no sign of ice at all.
And on a plinth, in the middle of the room, was a key. Nero smiled, and took it.
As he came out the doors, Salvanar spotted him, and called out.
“Sir! What are you doing here with no warm clothing? You’ll catch your death!” He called to him. He took another look. “You’re already half there, I’d say.” Said Salvanar, surprised at how icy pale Nero was.
Nero looked at Salvanar with a look that suggested he was only deigning to speak to him as a favour. “What I do is none of your business.” Nero replied, sealing the key in his pouch with magic. “Go away and think no more of this, else will be the worse for you.”
Salvanar found himself getting angry. Who was this man to simply reject his perfectly normal inquiries? Who would say such things when he looked on the brink of extinction?
“Excuse me, is that how you repay a little bit of kindness? It would be nothing to me if you were simply to die here, but I thought you might want a little help! By Empartheus, is this how you treat people?” Said Salvanar angrily. He was spurred on by Nero’s obviously indifferent and even amused face. “And to think that I am nothing but a thief, sealing your little trinkets in your pouch! It is probably merely the key to your house, which is undoubtedly a filthy hovel. It seems you are another of those with not enough brain cells to power your own instinct for survival. Good day!” He said finally, turning and marching away.
Nero laughed.
“You little ignorant fool. This key…is so much more, more then you could ever imagine. It is quite possibly the greatest key in the world. And you say I am like others, others who are stupid and filthy and nothing? I am greater, more powerful even then you, because I am not subject to nature. I enslave nature to do what I wish. You are not my superior, or my equal. You are tiny to me. Nothing whatsoever. The fact you even feel that anger is proof.”
At this point Tulak had reached the Ice Palace as well. He saw the fight between the two, but decided not to get involved. He stayed back, out of sight.
Salvanar was truly enraged now. “How dare you! Nobody can enslave nature, no matter how powerful they may be. Ha, If only Empartheus himself were to realise your foolishness and strike you down now! It would save time, believe me. You talk of power- you know nothing. You are a baby playing in the sandpit of true power!” Clouds began to cluster around the Palace, and a lightning bolt struck one of the towers, cleaving it in two.
“You will see true power! You will be babysitted by the elements themselves!” He cried.
Nero laughed again. “No spell you can cast will do anything more then prick me.” He yelled, as the rumbling from the storm overhead increased.

Awesomeness appraoching, keep it up