Last memories of Westsilver

Last memories of Westsilver

From a period of utter darkness, which seemed to look forever, he regained his wits. Agonizing pain went throughout his body; during the disaster when he tried to save his son, he got stuck under an enormous piece of debris that fell on him. Memories of his family, screaming for their lives, unable to reach them, still tainted his mind. Now, in the aftermath, all was silent.

When he looked up from his shelter, after long periods suffering and despair. Between the dust and rubble, he could barely could recognize the once colorful city he grew up in. Westsilver, the great metropolis of Draconia, was in ruins. The great buildings of old were turned to ashes, the fora were filled with bodies, the expression of anguish immortalized upon their faces.

When stumbled about, he crossed the remains of the beautiful Summer Gardens, where a wide range of exotic fauna once grew. Now, it was hit by death and decay. The scent of blossoming orchids, where the city was renown for, had now been replaced by the stench of rotting flesh

After passing the countless corpses scattered about, he heard a faint and distant cry. Even though his senses we dim, he knew that voice. It was the voice of his own kin, his own flesh and blood. A flash of hope filled him, but when he came closer, he saw the bodied face of his son, turning towards him. When their eyes met, he noticed a predatory gaze from his son's visage. 
Confusion the last feeling that went through his head, the red of his own blood was the last thing he saw...

When dragons do not wake

Deep in the of the empire lay Pristina , a city of half-blood elves. Between neither the vibrant folk of humans and the eternal lives of the elves, the half-elves could not find their place. A few of them have tried to find solance in a community which they have a built up, in a valley blessed the light of Pelor. Because of all the good that Pelor brings forth the half-elf settlement thrived and grew into the city Pristinia .

The city lay at the foot of the mountain where the dragon Solarion slept . He warmed himself with the sun that shone on the mountain. Whenever the valley or the half-elves were in utter distress, he awoke from his sleep and pushed the threat.

Only when the disaster struck the continent, Solarion did not come out of his cave; when Shadarya, high priest of Pelor, came looking for him, he seemed to have turned into stone.

The half-elves of Pristina fell into the earth that ruptured and burned in the fire that it was raining, no one could protect themselves. Only a few brave constables of Pelor could barely survive the disaster.

One of them is the brave paladin Veritas, lost his kin when his family house collapsed, being near dead himself caught under the falling debris. Shadarya managed to save his life by the blessing of Pelor. While bringing the light back into Veritas, she had a vision, in whcih she saw that there were still men and elves alive, spread across the far reaches of the continent.

Along with Ivelos, the minstrel, they went into their ruined world. To keep their ideas alive, they each set out and go look for there remaining peoples. By finding other half-elves they want to establish a new community, so that the light of Pelor can shine on them.

After weeks, if not months, Veritas the paladin has come to Gysbönæ, the primeval forest where elves still seem to live. There he met a moon elf...

Exodite by nature

Smekeh is a wandering elf, straying and hunting along the edge of the Gysbönæ woods, a forest that is dying slowly as well. The edge of the forest is gradually crumbling into a deep chasm, down where only death and destruction reigns. Smekeh is a survivor and he knows that his forest does not have long anymore before it will dissapear entirely. He wants to take a leave, preferably as soon as possible.

Once located deep in the forest there was a settlement in the roots of giant oaks, where a colony of gnomes had a safe haven. Recently this settlement is coming closer to the ever receding ridge that is swallowing the forest. Mir the gnome has magical aptitude and a free and arbitrarily mind. With his mind, he has the power to set things of fire. Still, he respects and apreciates his family, so tries not to bother them with his light-hearted pyromantics.

Mir thankfully makes use of the nearby cliff at the edge of the forest, to throw his magical fire towards the grey horizon at heart's content. So there he meets Smekeh, the wandering elf. Due to the free spirit they both have, they become friends and often sit. smoking a pipe with their feet hanging down the cliff, dreaming about better places beyond the gray wasteland.

Draken, a medicineman from a magical forest in the East, has always assisted his community by binding their wounds, cure their diseases and provide them of his wise counsel. As a druid, he knew the powers of nature, and could use the riches of the magical forest in the service of his duties as a medicineman. His past is a little vague; at an early age his elven mother called heed to a fatal vision of Gysbönæ forest, her homeland. She returned to be at aid of her ancestors.

The great cataclysm also affected his community; he has been working hard to treat the massive sickness and injury that came his people when disaster struck. Once almost everyone was dead and the magic of his forest had disappeared, he began the long journey to the homeland of his mother.

The story begins as Draken arrives at its destination, to find that the Gysbönæ forest is standing at the top of a high cliff. At the moment of his valiant attempt at climbing the cliff, Smekeh and Mir are sitting on top and are deciding that this is the moment they are really going on their adventure into the gray wastes.

Once upon a cataclysm

In a place, far away from here, once florished a culture with giant cities, aqueducts, towers, fortresses, monasteries... The empire was held together by magic; arch-wizards had a pact with an ancient dragon-order, which kept the balance between space and time.

Although the Dragons lived in peace with humanity for a long time, the balance has come to be disrupted and the world disintegrated into chaos. On the cataclysmic destruction that followed, nothing but rubble and ashes remained in their realm. Spread across the land a handful of survivors crawled out from under the debris, seeking to maintain life. Their world was ruined, filled with a gloomy haze and the stench of death. 

Only at the far edges of the empire there were some remote islands, ancient forests and gigantic mountain ranges that withstood the catastrophe. Gysbönæ is one of these woods, deep in the northwest, being eaten away slowly by the ever-hungry gape of chaos. Being once vast and powerful, now the sickness of the surrounding lands has tainted the trees. Within days they wither and die, falling into a landslide bordering the forest. Months after the disaster, the landslide has tuned into a receding cliff of 300 feet high; on top of the mighty Gysbönæ forests still stands proud, awaiting it's coming peril. 

This is the place where a few lone souls happen to meet, seeking to find love in a dead world.

This is where our story begins...