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Hello there, friend. Stay a while and listen, for I have quite a tale to tell. In a realm not unlike our own, there was a world with a massive stretch of land known as Bies’En. 
(Click To Enlarge World Map)
It was a place that flourished among its cerulean waves and endless shores, underneath a blazing sun. However, not all of Bies’En thrived quite as fruitfully; Those farther inland struggled to feed their own, suffering droughts and famine. Many years ago, a device known as the Blast Effect was implemented as an alternative. Although its origins remain unknown, the device was able to instantly reform terrain; a river of mammoth size split straight across the heart of Bies’En itself. Since then, those living in Katla’s Path and the smaller towns near the Main Stream have seen a golden age of prosperity. Within the towering castle, Katla’s Keep, The Blast Effect remains in captivity. The Kingdom is at peace.
You are a prismatic - an uncommon type of guardian for Katla’s Path; one that has mastered both the physical and magical arts. You’re tasked to ensure the council within Katla’s Path remain safe from those that imperil their existence. Fortunately for you, this day is one of leisure and respite.
~Chapter I - Carving A Path~
The Dawn is Breaking. Lines of mortar, brick, and stone surround the massive city of Katla’s Path. Toiling again at the local bar, Boff’s Tonics, you take a drink of its watered-down mead to sate your thirst. The air within its walls becomes filled with the musical flair of an indigent group playing a flute, harp, and an acoustic guitar. You glance around the tavern; The denizens of the inebriated populace here are a veritable grab bag of delight & despair. Turning rightward from your barstool, you observe a man with darkened, slicked-back hair. He’s clearly had more than his fair share to drink, alternating between subdued mutterings, and unintelligible hollering.
Right behind you is a maiden waiting by the door. Her hair hangs down to her neck with an atypical, silver-tinged hue. She’s notably better-dressed than the destitute that flow in and out of the hostelry. On the second floor, you can see pub-goers at mahogany tables laughing and sighing at their joys and pains. Straight ahead is the bartender; This man looks to be middle aged with curled hair and sideburns, bearing a gruff expression on his face. And finally to your left, a man seems to be leaning on the dusty wall of this establishment with the look of distraction in his eyes, staring into nothingness itself. He is of enormous size, nearly towering the doorway itself. You look down towards your now-empty mug and spot your own reflection. What do you see?
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Modifié par DominusVita, 19 août 2012 - 04:20 .
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