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Life continued peacefully for the next few centuries, with the Trylian people going about their daily lives much like our prehistoric ancestors, hunting and gathering as they pleased, until Tzaliek grew tired of waiting and decided to take matters into his own hands. In an attempt to please Hurfrey, he tore a fissure into the surface of the world, releasing all manner of monsters and demons into the land, all led by their king The Hunter, who sough to obtain the Hur Sword so he could rule over not only the Underworld but Trylia as well. After numerous failed attempts at obtaining the sword from Tzaliek's hands, The Hunter ordered his army to destroy as much of the world as they could in order to force Tzaliek to give up the weapon.
Tzaliek, who feared for his life, decided to gather all of the remaining Trylians and escape to the sacred Lake Bluhound, where Hurfrey had granted him the sword, so he could plead for their protection. However, upon reaching the lake, he instead met Herrance and Horrace, who had condemned Hurfrey and sentenced him to rule the Underworld, where he renamed himself The Hunter. The two gods then proceeded to punish Tzaliek for his own evil and promptly destroyed him, using his ashes to form a makeshift island at the mouth of the Bluhound River and founding the city of Eltherria on said island. This city, surrounded by water, would become to new home of the Trylian people, safe from the reaches of The Hunter and his forces. In secret, the two gods also sent the Hur Sword into the city, disguised as a statue commemorating the founding of Eltherria and placing it in the town square, where it stands to this day. Through the ingenious design of the duo, the only way to access the weapon was also concealed, and would only open when the land's chosen heroes would come into need of it. They also left artifacts of themselves within the statue, with Herrance enshrining his own bow and quiver while Horrace placed away his sacred armor.
Once the Trylian people were secure, Herrance and Horrace summoned an army of angels and entered into a fierce and preceded to wage a fierce battle against the The Hunter and his troops in the area now known as Wraithblood Plains. According to legend, it was here that the duo discovered their original chosen hero, and had granted him immortality as a sign of honor. Although only briefly mentioned in retellings of the history of Trylia, the chosen hero played a significant role in the battle, eventually retiring to a shack somewhere in the Turrence Forests. After a long and bloody week of fighting, the two gods managed to subdue The Hunter, driving him into a prison deep in the center of the Crowless Dunes, where a great seal was placed on his cell in order to ensure his permanent imprisonment so he could never again harm Trylia or its inhabitants. Stripped of both his original powers and physical form by the capabilities of the seal, The Hunter was forced to take the form of a shriveled old man full of dangerously grandiose potential capable of destroying the entire world should he ever escape.
Releasing they would soon perish as a result of the grave injuries sustained from the battle against The Hunter, Herrance and Horrace wanted to ensure their prisoner could no longer hurt their people, and, fearing another great catastrophe, decided to create a spirit to be bound to their enshrined gifts that could their chosen heroes on their journeys in the future. Once they had finished that, they summoned four guardian dragons to watch over the lands of Trylia, with each dragon entrusted with a fragment of a spell that would ensure the return of the two gods when needed, with each individual fragment being passed on to their respective heroes one day. Finally, with their last breaths, the gods created a gate to the underworld, sealed away within an ancient dungeon, that would be instrumental in the eventual banishing of The Hunter. With that, Herrance and Horrace left Trylia, hoping they'd ensured its protection for millenniums to come.
Throughout the adventures of the chosen heroes, Eltherria becomes an important location, garnering multiple visits, whether it be for equipment or story progression, so I recommend you familiarize yourself with its many notable places. The Town Square (green), for example, is the city's busiest site. Standing in front of the Trylian Castle (red), a fountain bearing an image of the infamous Hur Sword sits in the square's center, flanked on each side by market stalls and crowds. A small establishment, the Horrace Head Tavern, lies directly to the west, and is the home of much of the town's gossip and quest-giving. Numerous buskers stand out front, and will often garner the attention of guards, which can be used to your advantage. Besides that there's lengthy Bluhound Avenue (green street), which leads to the town drawbridge, where you can visit the blacksmith. There's also busy Monroe Street (blue street), where most of Eltherria's residents live and where you can stock up on health at the numerous food vendors, or visit the fortune teller, who can aid you on your adventures. And, finally, there's South Street (red street), one of the town's quieter areas, where you can stop by the local clinic in times of need.
Andrew remained at his seat, his hands gripping the glass of water he'd ordered. He had no interest in drinking at all that night; after all, he was the pack's only Omega present, and had to make sure none of the werewolves managed to get themselves in trouble. After he took a few sips, he began to survey the room, closely watching each and every patron of the establishment with his deep, dark eyes, often stopping to glance at Kat, who, along with her brother, had just become the latest Betas of the group. As he studied her, entranced by the form of her wavy hair, he noticed Carlson approaching her.
Although originally fond of his position, Andrew had grown tired of having to figure everything out between each pair of quarreling werewolves, wanting instead to become Alpha and subject Carlson to the mindless negotiation he had to experience ever since he joined the pack back in December. I could easily take that blonde idiot, Andrew though to himself, clenching his glass tighter with each word. After all, I'm one of the best fighters here, with me being an Omega and all, right? I ought to show him. Maybe then these fools will realize who ought to rule this measly pack, he continued, nearly smashing his glass.
Although originally fond of his position, Andrew had grown tired of having to figure everything out between each pair of quarreling werewolves, wanting instead to become Alpha and subject Carlson to the mindless negotiation he had to experience ever since he joined the pack back in December. I could easily take that blonde idiot, Andrew though to himself, clenching his glass tighter with each word. After all, I'm one of the best fighters here, with me being an Omega and all, right? I ought to show him. Maybe then these fools will realize who ought to rule this measly pack, he continued, nearly smashing his glass.
Andrew walked down the lonely avenue leading from his pack's apartment complex to their preferred outing for such nights, Sam's Bar and Tavern, his trademark beige jacket flapping in the breezy Northern California wind. The aforementioned street, the only paved one in town, whose mud-caked surface was dimly light by the surrounding street lights, saw little action, mostly due to character of the community in which it laid. With a meager population just above 200 people, Mountain Creek is little more than a quaint little cluster of clapboard cabins, unkempt yards, and weather brick storefronts rising humbly from the immensity of the surrounding forests, seemingly stuck in the 19th century. Somewhat orderly rows of cottonwoods line a grid of streets seldom disturbed by vehicles of any sort. There's one grocery store, a single bank, and a lone gas station, all sandwiched together on the town's short main street. Over 75 miles away from the nearest town with a populace of over a thousand people, it was deemed perfect for the remaining werewolves in California, thanks not only to its seclusion but the isolation of each resident, with most houses over half a mile away from each other.
As Andrew entered the tavern, it was nearly nine, meaning most of the other members of the pack were already there, and it turned out he was right: over a dozen werewolves crowded around the bar, all lazily ordering drinks. Much like the usual crowd, the establishment hadn't changed since Andrew first came to Mountain Creek almost a year ago, its signature thick, beer laden air still clinging to his nostrils every time he entered while the plywood-paneled walls hung with deer antlers, aged Midwestern beer promos, and mawkish paintings of game birds in flight groaned and wailed with every gust of wind. He slid into the nearest booth, away from the quiet commotion of his brethren, and waited for someone to serve him.
As Andrew entered the tavern, it was nearly nine, meaning most of the other members of the pack were already there, and it turned out he was right: over a dozen werewolves crowded around the bar, all lazily ordering drinks. Much like the usual crowd, the establishment hadn't changed since Andrew first came to Mountain Creek almost a year ago, its signature thick, beer laden air still clinging to his nostrils every time he entered while the plywood-paneled walls hung with deer antlers, aged Midwestern beer promos, and mawkish paintings of game birds in flight groaned and wailed with every gust of wind. He slid into the nearest booth, away from the quiet commotion of his brethren, and waited for someone to serve him.
Name: Gideon Helmstear
Age: 44
Gender: Male
Race: Inoris
Literally translating to "outcast" in their native language, the Inoris have long been a target of intense discrimination and hate as a result of their elven ancestry. Originating from a cluster of small islands of the coast of what was once the Nekomusume's territory, the Inoris are the direct descendants of an ancient elven race that once roamed the entire world. Although they were revered by the humans for their intelligence, specifically their proficiency in abstract thinking, and disciplined armies, the Inoris eventually ended up clashing with the humans, leaving many of them in the hands of their enemies while the rest were doomed to perish in the few islands that were deemed a suitable reservation by their captors. As the years went on, hatred for the Inoris grew, mostly due to the humans' envy of their aforementioned intelligence and orderliness, which itself lead to several aptly-titled "race-wars" occurring throughout many human cities. Although considerable reform has occurred since those fateful years, segregation still runs deep in the treatment of the Inoris, with many of them destined to become little more than slaves.
Appearance/Clothing:
Weapons/Belongings: Being the wealthy treasure hunter that he is, Gideon has brought a multitude of objects he believes will come in handy during his time in Pomria. These items include, but are not limited to, various shovels, pickaxes, hatchets, dynamite, lanterns, and, most importantly, a sort of prototype taser (pictured) capable of firing a single dart-like electrode meant to attach itself to whatever its being fired at, effectively electrocuting and thereby killing it.
Personality: Initially an ambitious diplomat, Gideon is intent on taking back his ancestors' land in the name of the Inoris and exterminating the humans. After his injury and subsequent loss of political power, his obsession of not only reconquering the original home of the Inoris but also of realizing what he believed to be his true calling as the Inoris' prophet intensified. He now actively seeks to take the enigmatic Elven Sword from the Tower, as demonstrated by his shipments of government battalions to retrieve it prior to his journey.
History: WIP
Age: 44
Gender: Male
Race: Inoris
Literally translating to "outcast" in their native language, the Inoris have long been a target of intense discrimination and hate as a result of their elven ancestry. Originating from a cluster of small islands of the coast of what was once the Nekomusume's territory, the Inoris are the direct descendants of an ancient elven race that once roamed the entire world. Although they were revered by the humans for their intelligence, specifically their proficiency in abstract thinking, and disciplined armies, the Inoris eventually ended up clashing with the humans, leaving many of them in the hands of their enemies while the rest were doomed to perish in the few islands that were deemed a suitable reservation by their captors. As the years went on, hatred for the Inoris grew, mostly due to the humans' envy of their aforementioned intelligence and orderliness, which itself lead to several aptly-titled "race-wars" occurring throughout many human cities. Although considerable reform has occurred since those fateful years, segregation still runs deep in the treatment of the Inoris, with many of them destined to become little more than slaves.
Appearance/Clothing:
Weapons/Belongings: Being the wealthy treasure hunter that he is, Gideon has brought a multitude of objects he believes will come in handy during his time in Pomria. These items include, but are not limited to, various shovels, pickaxes, hatchets, dynamite, lanterns, and, most importantly, a sort of prototype taser (pictured) capable of firing a single dart-like electrode meant to attach itself to whatever its being fired at, effectively electrocuting and thereby killing it.
Personality: Initially an ambitious diplomat, Gideon is intent on taking back his ancestors' land in the name of the Inoris and exterminating the humans. After his injury and subsequent loss of political power, his obsession of not only reconquering the original home of the Inoris but also of realizing what he believed to be his true calling as the Inoris' prophet intensified. He now actively seeks to take the enigmatic Elven Sword from the Tower, as demonstrated by his shipments of government battalions to retrieve it prior to his journey.
History: WIP
Seems interesting enough. I'm also in.
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