Arc will have Order. Chaos must be eliminated. Only through Order will there ever be peace in the lands of Lost Souls. Chaos will be crushed through whatever means possible.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Decisions

I pondered the offer carefully. The bitterness I felt at continued defeat still weighed heavily upon me; at the same time I knew very little of this Ahrikol. Sensing my hesitancy, the great lord of Yevath (for that was the name of this fortress) offered more of his insight into the fight for true order.

"So much of the world has fallen into lawlessness and chaos. I am dismayed at the feckless rejection of my rule in many places. Do they truly so prefer anarchy?"

I replied, "No right thinking individual prefers chaos over harmony. Still, as a whole, many civilizations seem to revel in discord."

Ahrikol gazed at me with an appraising eye. "It is their choice to forsake my advice. But it is yours to take up the mantle and fight for what you know is right."

I gazed slowly around the vast chamber. Guttering fires lit the expanse but dimly. Yet through the shadows I could see others of Ahrikol's servants - many grotesque and disfigured. Was this to be my fate as well? Then, through some magick unknown to me, there appeared before me a majestic figure, girded in hyperium armours and wielding a blade of flame.

"This could be you", stated Ahrikol. Again he had seemed to read my innermost thoughts and concerns. "My Ringwielders are a powerful tool in my quest to unite this world. Join them, and you shall walk with me in the conquest of chaos."

Never had words had a more profound effect upon me. I sensed that what Ahrikol said was true, that I would indeed be the recipient of great power, power which I could use to right the wrongs done to me.. errr... to the world. I knelt before the mighty Ahrikol and said, "I seek a Ring of Power".

Ahrikol peered at me, as if seeing through to my innermost self, then gestured. Suddenly my right hand was adorned with a golden ring. The ring pulsed with power, almost like a heartbeat. At the same time, through some arcane process, I was made aware of a handful of runes at my disposal; runes for which I need but petition lord Ahrikol. I was greatly heartened by this, and wanted to experiment with my new abilites immediately, but decades of trials had also taught me caution, and I resolved to learn more of the rune magicks I now controlled. I retired to the great libraries within Yevath, to study, and perhaps to brood.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Backstory 3

Suddenly, in the midst of these reveries, a voice... no not a voice, an urge, came over Arc. An urge to travel north. Somehow he sensed that the power he sought would be there, welcoming him. Gathering his few possessions (for he had truly become hermit-like in his existence) Arc set out to the northern borders of Almeria, always aware of that whispering urge guiding him.

Rising from the midst of seemingly endless mountains, a gate. Blackened iron and vicious guards seemed to belie the promise of Order within. Still, the voice called, more strident now, more persuasive. Despite their appearance, the guards welcomed Arc like a lost brother, and ushered him into the vast, dark fortress. Down, down through broad, high-arched tunnels, seemingly without end, all the while a mixed feeling of dread and ecstasy built.

At last, Arc was brought before an enormous basalt throne, upon which sat a figure twice the size of the Amberite. "I am Ahrikol," rumbled the figure. At once, Arc knew that this was the subtle voice that had been urging him onward with the promise of power. "You seek order, as do I. Long have I watched in dismay as the city-states of this plane destroy themselves with petty bickering. What is needed is true peace, brought about by absolute order." Arc listened attentively to the tutelage, as it echoed his beliefs. Ahrikol continued: "I seek warriors in this battle, and word has reached me of your fight against chaos. I have come to possess many sources of power over the years, and I offer that power to you. I offer you power beyond reckoning, power to wipe the scourge of disorder from the land. All you must do is kneel before me."

Backstory 2

After some 80 years of continual wandering, Arc stumbled across an opening to what appeared to be yet another Shadow, this one in the form of an infinite river. Months spent exploring this plane yielded access to a city seemingly plucked from reality, a city named Nexus. Here, Arc found more disaffected people, and while they were not dedicated to order, they clearly understood revenge. They taught him their ways of battle, as well as their methods of achieving arcane affinities to elemental forces. The leader of the city-state was so impressed by the achievements of a "mensch" that he named Arc an honorary "Weapon of Vengeance", a title which suited the angry Amberite well. Girded against chaos as he now was, Arc returned to Limbo to call out those who had previously defeated him. With his new skills and fighting prowess, he was able to defeat Chaos Knights in single combat. Emboldened, Arc swept further into the realm of Limbo, a dagger aimed toward the Courts of Chaos. He at once paid a dear price for his growing arrogance, encountering a group of the fearsome knights mounted on great lumbering beasts. They laughed as the tiny figure demanded their surrender, and one, with a wave of his hand, turned Arc's prized armour into a chaotic mess of colour. Arc returned the favor with a blast of light from a Nexus weapon, and was almost instantly pounded to ruin by the knights and their mounts. Again forced to retreat, and having lost most of his possessions in the melee, Arc was dashed to the Prime plane, a smoking husk.

Slow years passed; years of wandering aimlessly through the land of Almeria. All that Arc had left were the hideously deformed armour and the scarred limbs which gave witness to his defeat. What did not show, but was ever-present, was the internal scarring. Arc despaired. All that he had been taught as a young man in Amber, all that he had learned in his long travels through multiple shadows, all of it seemed to be useless against the forces of disorder. He needed ... something ... something else... more... what? More power. Yes. More Power.

Backstory 1

Arc was named for a perfect mathematical construct, and so he grew up, believing himself to be the embodiment of Order. These were natural thoughts for a Trueborn of Amber, with the logic and perfection of the pattern ever close at hand, and the thrumming of it within his blood. Arc was taught from an early age to hate disorder and he learned this lesson well. If perhaps it caused his other lessons to suffer, well so be it. His parents were rabidly orderborn, and so was their son.

As he came of age, Arc grew increasingly impatient with the reluctance of the vast majority of Amberites to actively engage the forces of chaos. Even his parents were passive in their hatred, and Arc eventually left Amber behind to wander the shadows.

During decades of travel which bore further witness to the ravages brought about by chaos, Arc dreamed of a universe of perfect order, in which there was no fighting, no strife, certainly no war. All was in harmony, a perfect crystalline reflection of the Pattern. Throwing himself back into his long neglected studies, he became adept at a number of esoteric skills and magickal arts. He found a sense of belonging with those attuned to Hanoma, and joined them, learning to produce leximantic effects. Still, his battle against discord was not going well. He was forced to retreat time and again by single Chaos Knights, as they wielded what seemed to be overwhelming power. Greatly discouraged by his ineffectiveness against these minions of chaos, Arc grew bitter, and vowed to achieve enough power to force them to the ways of Order, or unto death.