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The Rise of ComDoB

We, the aershaa, have been free as long as we can recall. Free to fly, free to run, free to believe in our gods. Or at least, this is what we had always believed. We were so very blind.

Man has always been greedy. They are a race of conquerors and controllers. Instead of adapting to their surroundings like the race of furr, or becoming one with the drey as aerkind, they always sought to shape and change the world to fit to their liking, like a tailblade shapes a block of ice. But we never realized how they sought to shape us. We ignored the mysterious cries within man's great dens of stone and steel within the forest and the great valley. We ignored their oddly familiar dogs...

Slowly, but surely, man has begun conquering us. Some would say they only conquer the weak; that aerkind as a whole remains strong. And this was true for cycle after cycle...

But it is no longer.

Man's great lord has ordered the enslavement of all aerkind. They come to destroy our dens, take our lives... and they come for something far worse. Our very minds are at risk, taken by those that call themselves members of "The Committee," also known as Comdob (Cohm-dah-b). They are erased and reshaped as easily as the dexterous draians shape clay; reshaped to serve, love, and worship them, to forget Khan, S'feena, Mother Draiah, or whoever the corrupted one may follow. Even families are taken away; they are no longer an aershaa. They have become Bladehunters. And those that cannot pass the training suffer the worst fate of all.

They become dumb, mute, mindless dogs.

It is the Bladehunters that threaten our existence these suns. Man-loving, collar-clad aershaa that deny their heritage and true nature. They believe themselves to be of the "true" lineage; of a "higher" race, and seek to kill or capture "the savage, wild beasts" – us. If we do not cooperate, or cannot be captured, we are slain, a fate which many would prefer.

Though the quarrels between the moonborn and sunborn continue, the boundaries are weakening. Alliances are made and truces are proclaimed against the shining fire-sticks of man, as man has become the true enemy.

After all, these days, it's live free or die. We can't even have our gods without our freedom.




Seven Cycles have passed since the drey shattered beneath our paws. The demon Zagreus had sought to destroy us all, and, true, he took many lives across our beloved world. But we have not yet fallen. While the world has settled with new boundaries, the boundaries of old have been shattered. The dominating Safikhan religion that divided our races into hateful factions is dying – with the realization of our mortality by all that experienced the Shattering came a realization that there are far more important matters than what blood courses through one's veins. The word "baneblood" is nearly extinct, darks souldance with the airs; truly, it is a new era. But the Shattering gave man an advantage as well. Their numbers grow stronger on the continents of Jiskadar and Hasseran. The bladehunters grow massive in size and power. Mankind believes the Shattering was a sign from their "God" to take back the wild...

And so it is our duty to defend it. It seemed we were winning at first, but then the wailing beasts came charging through the ocean's waves, commanded by none other than mankind themselves...

Fragments of Aeos : Current Meta

Come. Gather. Let me tell you a story that no one has told in thousands - nay, millions of years.

In the beginning, it was not darkness... it was not a pelt of stars, or a great being of power. In truth, before our beginning, there was a place that had already existed for an unknown period of time... if there was even time at all. This was - and still is - the Aethyrr, or the Ether, as it’s commonly called today, and it was the mother realm of all that is. Within it stood the Ai’ryn, a race much like many of the races beneath the stars today in appearance, yet composed of pure thought and energy.

In the society of the Ai’ryn, the laws of existence as we know them had not yet come to pass. And so, nothing was connected. Each soul fended for themselves, sustained themselves, and kept knowledge for themselves. Though they lived together, it was as if each being lived in his own sphere, only occasionally phasing through the sphere of another. Bizarre, really, to think that an entire realm of people have ever existed as such, yet these people knew no other way.

And then there was... a ripple, you could call it.

You see, these beings would converse occasionally. They weren’t entirely asocial - they shared necessary knowledge and kept their local order together, but it wasn’t conversation like you or I would think of it; it was dry, cold, and fainter than the echoes of a ghost. it was unheard of - nay, unthought of - to share anything personal. Emotions and opinions, likes and dislikes, they were so silenced, it was almost as if they didn’t exist, even to the people themselves at times. But on that ripple drifted the first whispers of true conversation, first in small, unexpected words, then blossoming into true passion. From these personal words and moments of passion came the earliest of bonds, and a new way of life began to grow. An idea, as it were, that there was more knowledge to be had, more strength to be gained, and a better way of life from union. This was not just in the means of companionship, but the way their energies intertwined with one another. They were stronger together, more intelligent and resourceful together, and some would even say their very energies glowed brighter.

With every radical new idea comes those who oppose it. As the bonded ones came together, the traditionalists withdrew in fear - fear that would soon grow to hatred and anger. It wouldn’t be long before this hatred turned to the throes of war. In the Aethyrr, however, wars are not fought with swords, claws and bows, but with raw essence; pure energy drawn from the very emotion and individuality they so feared to show in their daily lives. Clashing energies tore at the bonds that reached out for one another in agony, while those that stood together entangled those united only by brittle hatred. This war of powerful emotion, polar opposites tearing at one another, began to weaken the very fabric of the Aethyrr itself. it would take but one more strike to tear the realm asunder...

And Aeos knew this.

I never said the Aethyrr was a lawless realm without rules or gods. Nay, it is the one realm where all such things originate, after all. Order was kept by those that, unlike the Ai’ryn, could peacefully convene with one another, share opinion and ideas, and, most importantly, create. Aeos stood at the head of them all. He - actually, to tell you the truth, Aeos was genderless, as all beings of the Aethyrr are - he had been watching as this new ripple had taken effect on the land. Whether he caused its start in the first place is debateable, but he had seen its promise, cherished it, and urged it to blossom. It caused him agony, the raw kind of agony that only the emotions of the Aethyrr could produce, to see these people war over something as golden as this new way. And so came the climax of the battle, where the traditional people and the bonded ones gathered their strength for the final blow; their last passionate effort to make their way the way of the realm. It was a force that would have shattered the Aethyrr into oblivion, beyond anything you or I could ever even fathom, that Aeos threw himself into as a living shield. Aeos’s sacrafice stiffled the blast, but only just. The remaining force tore the realm in two, along with each and every one of its inhabitants, birthing the physical realm from the sea of chaos. These souls became the stars, planets, flora and fauna of the universe, but it was the passionate, intertwined bonded ones that became you and I: the sentient beings of the world.

But what of Aeos? well, the force of the blast was composed of such completely opposite forces, its sheer impact is said to have crystallized and shattered this leader of the realm, scattering his broken pieces to an unknown corner of the physical world. Legend has it that uniting these shards will begin to mend the seam between the Aethyrr and the physical, yet is seems all but impossible... yet, I hear tale of an echo, ringing through the drey. It cries in between dreams and waking... in the crevices between drey and sky... on the brink between land and sea... anywhere that a seam is made. It whispers... “Unite me.”

----

This is the Aethyrr meta, “Fragments of Aeos,” a plot that kicks off an ongoing Dreyrull constant. The union of the fragments of Aeos will bring about a new phenomena: Walking Gates.

Walking gates, when passed through by a character of any race, bring the individual to the Aethyrr; the ethereal realm. The longer they are exposed to the Aethyrr, and the more frequently, more of their true memory will be recovered. As a soul lives its physical lives, it gains knowledge and experience that return with it to its true form on the ethereal plane, which is an individual’s inner-self. Likewise, the more exposure they get to the Aethyrr, the more their form (in the Aethyrr, not the physical), will reveal its true shape, which may or may not be that of a Ai’ryn, as millenia have passed and evolutions and warpings of energies have occurred to reflect the physical realm.

Walking gates move as they pass along. When they move out of the space that the character is occupying, that character is ‘ejected’ from the Aethyrr. The more frequently the character visits the Aethyrr, the easier it will be for them to remember their visits, but the first few times will result much like waking from a dream, with fleeting glimpses of memory, sometimes gone within minutes or hours.

The Rush - Background Plot

Holdensvale. Once a small fishing village in Hasseran, this human settlement has come to a new era of prosperity. No one had known there was anything of value in the seemingly worthless mountains just beyond the village walls until a traveler from Jiskadar offered to buy their land for a hefty sum of Spokes (gold pieces.) As the clever Governor loosened the traveler's tongue with strong whiskey, he discovered that Holdensvale sat upon an iron-rich mountainside, and, upon refusing the traveler's offer, seized the opportunity to turn the village into a flourishing city bustling with traffic and trade. It took mere moons for word to spread, as miners from all over began settling in the area, expanding the tiny village into a massive community. But word travels surprisingly fast in such a vast world, and the king of New Timbervast has ears in all corners of the globe...

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