The being opened his eyes. Taking in the surrounding grey nothingness that was his surroundings, he smiled to himself. It was time. Once more he closed his eye, but this time not to contemplate for millennia as he had just done so, but to draw upon those forces within himself. He had considered that which needed to be. Now it was time to act.

A tiny node of light appeared in the greyness. It pulsed faintly with a slow steady rhythm. Tarkun-Alteron opened his eyes. It was done. Now he regarded the pulsing beacon in the grey emptiness. The pulsing was increasing in intensity, although still remaining regular. Shortly, the light flickered frantically, the flickering becoming imperceptible to the eye and a constant pinpoint of light was soon all that could be seen in the void. Tarkun creased his brow in concentration and blazing energies, blinding for the mortal eye to behold, were released from his body streaking towards the light, which winked out of existence. As they reached the point where the light had been, a brilliant flash, with light equivalent to all the stars in today's universe exploding simultaneously, shone forth. When the dazzling display and dimmed to the point where is was possible to observe once more, it could be seen that the greyness was receding, in its place the blackness of space. Matter was coming into the newly created universe from the point where the light had been. An explosion of rock, gas and liquid spewed into this new environment.

When all had settled, Tarkun observed with satisfaction. The grey void was banished, in its place was space. Suns that moments before had not existed shone with the brilliant unsullied light of birth, surrounded by new untouched planets.

A discordant note rang out, reverberating throughout the universe. With this note, some of the newly created stars burst asunder. New planets obliterated in the fiery hell of star death. Tarkun earnestly sought the cause of this note, lest all be destroyed.

Near where the initial node of light had been was a source of power, which whilst incapable of rivalling Tarkuns own inner forces, was considerable. Probing this source of power, his mind was briefly open, the power struck. Tarkun felt a great wrench as more of his essence was stripped from his being, flowing towards the second force, now it was something to be feared. Rapidly, he erected a barrier against the onslaught. The attack abated and Tarkun now went forth in anger, seeking his attacker.

Untergrax who had come into being with the stars and planets, forged as were they from Tarkuns own essence, merely sat and waited, absorbing the new power of the cosmos into his body, sucking the very life from the stars and all else that was around. Tarkun found him and the universe trembled at the clash. Long they fought, whole areas of space were destroyed, rents appeared in the fabric of the cosmos. From the fallout of this great celestial battle came life. As the forces released slammed into worlds, on some of those not destroyed, changes took place in the oceans. Molecules connected in new complex ways. The building blocks of life were in place.

Gradually, the battle in the stars subsided. Each of the two beings realised they could not banish the other and the battle had been costly, both were drained from it. Untergrax fled to the far side of the universe and passed beyond the knowledge of Tarkun. There he perverted the new life forms which he found, Enslaving them to his will and altering their bodies to suit his purposes. Tarkun remained near the centre of the still expanding universe, choosing to study the life that had sprung up on the world that would become known as Cardea. He went among the new peoples that he found there and was worshipped as a God, teaching those he found worthy and in so judging them, instilled in them power that they might use to advance their cultures. He quickly forgot Untergrax, deeming him vanquished, and so the centuries passed and peace reigned. [Back to the top.]

DarkFall, The Legend of Ashalon.

It was said that, in the elder days, before the coming of man, there was a great kingdom that spanned the length and breadth of Cardea. The name of this kingdom is lost to us now, but the name of the people who lived there is known. They were called the Nefilim, their demeanour was one of peace and wisdom, of nature and balance yet they were possessed of the stature of Titans and their beauty was as great and fair as their wisdom.

If the Nefilim had one fault, it was that they quested, nay, thirsted endlessly for knowledge and that quest led them to many dark places and forbidden realms, both physical and spiritual. It was during this time that the Nefilim uncovered one secret too many, and fire was brought forth to the world and all the peoples of Cardea wondered at this new marvel and the mighty works that could be wrought with it.

Amongst those that came to behold the fire was one of the Nefilim called Ashalon. When Ashalon looked upon the flames he saw many things in their flickering dance, great wonders made from the heavens themselves, the light of stars, the beauty of darkness and the Power of Tarkun. What Ashalon did not see was the guiding hand of Untergrax behind all this. For it was that dread power of Chaos that had allowed flame unto Cardea and it was that same hand of entropy that gave these visions to the dancing, mesmerising light of the fire that Ashalon now watched, entranced.

For Thirteen Moons and Suns did Ashalon sit and watch the flame and none could stir him and many believed he would die from exhaustion or hunger and yet he endured. And then, finally, upon the first day of winter did he arise and spoke to all those around, saying "Behold, I am given secrets! The Gods have shown their hand and the mighty works they have wrought. And with these secrets I am given shall I too wrought great works in their honour and in praise of the greater whole!"

Now many were dismayed by Ashalons words, for now he spoke not of the quest for learning but of a quest for creation and they shook their heads and would have no part in these doings. But, like as not, some heard the wonder in Ashalons voice and came to him saying "We have heard your words and the visions that you have had, these wonders that you will create will be a fitting tribute to those that have birthed us. Let us work with thee and together will we artifice and labour."

So it came to pass that Ashalon took up tools and fire and wrought wonders. But as he worked Ashalon became more and more displeased with his work, for it was but a mere shadow of the power of the Gods and naught more than a child's imitation of true wonder, and yet Ashalons power grew, as did his pride and hubris. Millennia passed and each Moon would Ashalon consult with the flames and learn of new wonders and Untergrax would laugh in his secret domain as Ashalon strove and failed.

And then came the day whence Man first walked upon Cardea and the Nefilim were dismayed and in disarray and they spoke with each other in hushed whispers and worried tones, asking whither were these beings who had come, and what power had sent them. And Ashalon looked to the flames for answers and saw the face of Untergrax laughing at him, saying "These are the new chosen of Tarkun-Alteron, he has grown displeased with thee and thine, thy wonders are but an insult to his majesty and might!"

Ashalon arose and doused the flames.

Taking to him a new fire of his own devising, for his might had grown to such, Ashalon drew forth Gamerial, the first weapon of warfare, and in his anger he brought it forth from the Black Flame that burned in his heart and in his eye and in his hand and he spake with the Nefilim who wept and wailed saying "Behold! Tarkun has abandoned us and we are deceived by all, Untergrax laughs at us and the wonders we have wrought as though we are but children! Let us arise and take Gamerial and it's sisters and smite the Man who has comest and let our displeasure be known." And thence came slaughter.

And so was forged the first weapon, by the hand of Ashalon, and so was fought the first war between mortals who should have been as brothers.

And the war crossed and recrossed the land until no heart was left untouched by sorrow, loss or hatred and Ashalon laughed. Now it came to be that Ashalon created a mighty fortress far to the North. He carved out a spire from the land, twisted and foul reflecting the hate that had eaten and devoured his soul. Those captured slaves of man that laboured under him had their blood taken and it was used to mix the mortar for the spire, and their bones were ground down into dust to make the bricks. And this angered the forces of Man and they called to their Gods, foremost amongst them Tarkun-Alteron and cried to them saying "The Dark One, Ashalon, has taken our children and enslaved them, and he drinks of our blood and our souls and uses this power to mock thy own! Strike him!" and Tarkun heeded the call and summoned forth the God of Light, Artus, whom man had borne. And so was fought another war and Ashalon fled the burning light and hid in his fortress.

Now the forces of Man, and of Artus, besieged the spire and taunted Ashalon, baiting him to reveal himself that they might serve him justice. But Ashalon screamed and covered his ears so that he would not hear their words. And in his blackened heart he began the plans for his final wonder, a robe of darkness that would shed despair and shadow all around and throw his enemies into confusion.

Man learnt of this last power through means unknown, but it is rumoured that once again Untergrax had played his hand and informed Artus of the Robe and its meaning and they stormed the spire. But even as the last of the Nefilim fell before the blades of Man, Ashalon donned the robe.

His last and greatest achievement, The Robe of Shadows, stripped Ashalon of his Mortal frame and tore from him his face and became one with him. No longer could his evil hide behind the mask of flesh. His hate and power flowed out across the land and all fell before his might in awe. They trembled and hid and those that could not flee were devoured by the Dark One for his thirst and hunger for vengeance knew no boundaries. The land grew blackened and dark, plants and trees withered and faded, Animals and Kine became sick and died of unknown malady and for a time even Artus, Lord of Light fled before the all consuming Darkness.

Ashalon, through work wrought of his own hand, had ascended to become a God and wielded his new-found power to slake his bitter burning for revenge by harrying Man wherever He found him.

Until, at last, Tarkun Alteron could watch no longer. The Power of Law descended and Ashalon bowed before it, forced unto his knees to grovel in the earth at the feet of Tarkun. And the Creator spoke saying, "Ashalon! The works that you have wrought have been your own undoing, and the punishment for your evil must be great, for your evil was great. And yet, the doing was not all thine own, for Untergrax, my age-old enemy, the power of Chaos, was responsible for misleading you. Plead for forgiveness and I will be merciful and spare you." And Ashalon arose to his feet and stared Tarkun in the eye, "I shall not bow, nor plead until you destroy Man and restore your firstborn!"

Tarkuns anger was great and Ashalons ire was roused and they fought, one upon each other. And at the end Tarkun could not slay Ashalon, but only was able only to imprison him in a dark place, far beyond the world. A place called Absalom, The Abyss Unending.

And to those that remained of the followers of Ashalon, Tarkun gave a new form, cursing them with the foulness they worshipped. That the darkness in their hearts should be reflected in their visage and they becamst the Orcs.

And so was brought to close the time of the DarkFall. [Back to the top.]

The legend of Avenlora

In an age long past, a baby was born to a woodsman and his wife. The baby girl was beautiful and they called her Lora. As she grew into a young girl, her mother Absynthe was stricken with Forest Fever, a horrible disease that slowly drove the victim insane whilst incapacitating them. Death was a blessing when it finally came to Absynthe.

Lora spent the rest of her growing years learning the ways of the forests. She had such a passion for nature that she caught the eye of the Creator. He saw in her a love for his creation that was unparalleled and bestowed upon her a special blessing.

From that day forth, Lora had God-given abilities that enabled her to commune with what she loved most. Nature. In thanks for the gift, she vowed to give her life over to healing the hurts of the world and the teaching of others.

For many years there was peace in the land until one day, the Creator was challenged by one of his children. The being's name was Ashalon. For months they battled, and in the chaos that ensued, whole forests were brought down, seas were dried up and turned to wastelands where nothing could grow. Species of flora and fauna were wiped out within the blink of an eye.

Lora felt as if pieces of her soul were being torn off and casually discarded. With the destruction of each species, she would cry out in great agony. No one could help her. Slowly the pain pushed her over the edge, into the depths of insanity.

Weeks went by as Lora wandered through what had once been the forest she grew up in. She chanced upon a solitary flower, lavender heart-shaped petals growing on a bright green stem, struggling to survive in the now dead soil. She knew what she had to do.

Unbeknownst to her, time had stopped as the Creator watched and waited to see what Lora would do. Taking a small hunting knife from its sheath at her waist, Lora cut her wrists, letting her mineral rich blood soak into the dead earth, feeding it. This being her last hope to heal that which she loved most.

As the Creator watched on, Lora cried out, "I do this for the creation!", and she breathed her last breath. The Creator walked over to the dead woman, a single tear trickling down his face. As he stood over her body, the tear rolled off his cheek and landed on Lora's now blue lips.

Suddenly, an entire meadow of the same lavendar flower that Lora had given her life to save came into being amongst the abode of the gods. And Lora breathed.

Lora stood and for the first time saw the Creator, face to face. He smiled warmly and spoke, "You will be known as Avenlora, The Healer. From this day forth I give you dominion over my creation. Nurture and heal it." And then he was gone. Avenlora bent over and picked the flower. As she held it up to look at it she smiled and named it Absynthe, for her mother. [Back to the top.]

Aliya's tale

She had wandered lost, through endless, changeless mists for what seemed like an eternity before she found herself on a woodland path, a pinnacle of rock piercing into the canopy above. All she knew of herself was a name, Aliya. Aliya soon found friends who helped her find clothing, and she wandered about the land, carefree, speaking with those she met, making friendships and learning the paths of the land.

It was within her first happy year in Cardea that Avenlora, Goddess of Nature was released from imprisonment by Kittian, and since Kittian's loyalty and devotion were already given to Another, it was Aliya that became the first to dedicate herself to Avenlora's service following Her release. Aliya soon also joined the Druids guild, and since their leader had long been absent, it was not long before she took upon herself the burden of its leadership.

As the seasons passed, however, Aliya's carefree outlook changed. Time and again, those that she had thought to be her friend caused her hurt, be it through treachery or carelessness, in the end, the cause of each mattered little. Aliya's heart became closed. She was slow to trust, and slower still to offer friendship. Many reproached her for this coldness, where once they had known warmth, some were saddened and toiled hard to see her smile once more, and they were, to some extent, successful, though Aliya never lost the darkness which had been borne in her heart from these many hurts, she allowed light to dwell alongside it.

The years passed, and Aliya's complete devotion to her Goddess continued to strengthen and in time she was named Priestess and in time, High Priestess. The city of Arboria and the guild of the Druids both grew stronger, and Aliya began to search for another to take the burden of the guild's leadership from her, for though she dearly loved the guild, she was often torn between her calling and her duties. There was a young Druid by name of Ardal, his speech was odd and many thought him childish, but Aliya hoped that he would grow into one able to lead the druids. Until he vanished, upon the eve of his own wedding, not to return for many long years.

When he did return, his speech was the least of the changes in him. Before even speaking with Aliya, he quit the Druids' number and sought companionship with the fell warriors known as Templars. He told that he had fought with many demons of the mind, in his absence and had in the end, resolved to follow the path of darkness. Once more betrayed by one she had thought she knew, one for whom she had harboured such hopes, Aliya cast from herself all that was light, she renounced all friendships, and stalked through the land with a surly tongue and a glower for any that offered her friendship.

But in time, her anger and hurt faded, and she returned once more to her path of circumspect neutrality. Always seeking to learn more before offering an opinion, always slow to offer friendship. There were many who did not understand the grave image they saw was a mask to a continual war within herself, to prevent herself from indulging in her emotions as they played across her, that the Darkness in her spirit should not revolt those friends who chose a path of Light and that the part of her given to kindness and trust should not once more be cruelly hurt.

But in her care and caution, Aliya gained wisdom, never acting, and seldom speaking, until she was certain of her course. Avenlora named Aliya her Chosen One, removing her from the Priesthood and sharing Her will with her. Aliya gained the grudging respect of even bitter enemies, the loyalty of those few she trusted to name friend. Of those few, perhaps only one was ever permitted to see the turbulence beneath the placid surface she presented to the world. Creelen, who was Avenlora's champion and Aliya quarrelled often and bitterly, but each time reconciled and toiled together once more as friends.

But troubles once more afflicted the land, as the Unmaker strove to destroy the land once again, Avenlora diverted more and more of Her strength to thwart His attacks, becoming little more than a shade in the land. Once She was weakened, unable to protect Nature as once She did, Untergrax's plan was revealed. A vile Blight began to afflict the forests, killing creatures and sickening those that lingered in it. Aliya, desperate to find some solution, took to spending long days in vigil in the heart of the Blight, seeking, by the very force of her will and devotion to strengthen Avenlora's power in that place sufficiently that She might eradicate it.

It was as Aliya returned to the Blight to commence her vigil once more that she spied a Medusa, performing some rite within the heart of the Blight. Hastily, Aliya gathered as many as she could to aid her in fighting the Gorgon, but they returned just in time to see the conclusion of the medusine ritual. The beast was quickly slain, but storms wracked all about them, thunder booming threats of cataclysm. As Aliya stood with Creelen and a few others, in confusion and dismay, Avenlora appeared before them.

In swift, scant words, She told what must be done, Aliya understanding almost immediately what was necessary, she too giving instructions and making farewells. Aliya handed to Creelen the Staff of Thunder, a mystical weapon that Aliya had carried for many years. Sobbing and begging that what both Avenlora and Aliya gently told him was not so, he finally acceded and struck both Goddess and Servant with the Staff. A single blow to each sufficed to dispatch them, and even as Creelen's tears struck the ground, the earth silently engulfed the bodies leaving nothing for the mourners to weep over.

The Blight did not immediately recede following this great sacrifice, but in its heart a new plant sprouted. One of the Druids, Willow, cut the Blight away from around it and tended the plant with gentle care and dedication, watering it, bedding it in ash and healthy soil from a place holy to Avenlora. As months passed, the bud swelled and grew in size, until it burst open, and from it stepped a figure.

At first bewildered and confused, She knelt and wept, and where her tears fell, the last of the Blight was washed away. The Goddess of Nature was returned to the land, but not as She had been. In Her weakened state, She that had been Avenlora was lost, but in joining in the sacrifice, Aliya had made it possible for Nature to return to the land. Imbued within the Goddess was Aliya's spirit, her memories and her being.

As she had been, she would never walk the lands of Cardea again. As She had become, She will watch over the lands as the cycle of Day and Night, Life and Death turns inexorably. [Back to the top.]

Of the Struggle

The races of Cardea have grown up in an environment of divine conflict, fuelled largely by the chaotic nature of Untergrax and the vengeful wishes of Ashalon. The peoples of Cardea often align themselves to gain benefit from one deity of another for a short time. Some devote themselves entirely to the struggle in the name of their chosen cause. Others still ignore the gods, deeming them unimportant in their own plans. Some individuals go so far as to try and manipulate the gods to further their own ends.

So it has been for centuries. These individuals lead, learn, teach and fight. A side effect of their time in service of the gods is a memory loss of early youth and leaves them with wills that are as iron beside their lesser brethren. Ignorant of their heritage, they live their lives as do others, but always seem to find a path to greatness. They are simply more adept than those around them. Some seek to improve through magic, some the way of armed conflict and domination, yet others choose secrecy as their ally, and a few choose to follow those two ancient beings, Tarkun or Untergrax. Both Untergrax and Tarkun have been known to part with vast quantities of essence in order to raise those who perform well in their service to a state regarded as Godhood by those who live on Cardea. Several such entities exist, manipulating the timestream and stuff of the universe to channel power towards Cardea and the ongoing conflict. Some of these entities cease their struggle at the time of their elevation, others still follow their own paths. Of those leaders left on Cardea, many desire this ultimate power and strive to attain it.

The struggle continues. [Back to the top.]

The Power of the Pen

(Reflection on Cardean life by the Troubadour Scribe Angel, True Poet

All things to nothingness descend,
They grow old, fail, and reach the end.

Men die, iron rusts, wood turns decayed,
Towers fall, walls sink,
Sweet roses fade.

Not long does any name resound,
Beyond the grave--unless its found,
Inside a book.

Only the pen, can make immortal,
Women and men.

[Back to the top.]