homeland is one n’ere touched by the cataclysms of the rest of the
world around it, yet it has changed, as history gives to change in
time. Its own waterlines
keep it separated it from all other lands, its winds and air currents
created an invisible wall of mist and mystery all about it. It is all
but unreachable to the outside. It
was as though it had been singled out and concealed from the
tumultuous chaos that was its neighbors.
The lands were historically far more peaceful and beautiful,
but never as full of magical energy and the legacy of lore than now.
It holds cryptic messages, strange mounds and Paleolithic
structures everywhere one wanders.
Rolling grasslands and majestic highlands, speak of its
ever-entrancing mappings and changing species.
Spanning forests of undeniable darkness and alluring beauty.
Natural springs, streams and rivers, cavernous gullies and
knoll hills, all giving shelter to creatures of all kinds great and
small. Survival is still difficult for the weak however; with all
its tranquil beauty the land still borders the edge of eons of brutal
violence embedded in its very soil.
The creatures and beasts of Old had returned, the Trolls, Orcs,
Ogres and Goblins that once were driven to extinction on its lands by
the driving pursuit of the human civilizations, passing them all into
the annals of mythology. The
exact resurgence of the beasts of Old is vague, yet with them came the
return of their counter parts, the Fairy folk; Elves (of all kinds),
Nymphs and Sylphs, Nyads and Dryads, Pucks and Toadies, furry and
winged critters of all kinds. The
Human populations were all but made extinct by their over-whelming
growth. Only the hardiest
and cunning of all men and women could survive.
What the Orcish hordes didn’t leave to their demise, the
fairies drove insane. The
land is now broken into small factionary settlements of individual
races, each pitting their resources against the other races, through
all this however, very little conflict ever happens.
Even so the tension can be felt, it is as though the land
provides more than each one needs, satiating the desire for others
lands, leaving only feudal and grudge battles to decide who’s more
powerful. This is the
same land that the Fairy Lords have chosen to be their home.
The Lords of the fates, the Kings of the immortal elves, and
the place mountain gods come to rest here.
It was as though this was to be the epicenter of all
mythologies return. This
is the Greater Ire‘land.
In the far North west side of Greater Ire’land sits Castle Rock Hearth. Its Walls of Granite and finely quarried stone was built along side Bacchante’s grotto, enchanted with the properties of protection that is given only to the likes of King Arthur’s Camelot. Nestled in a grand valley, along the seashore, not far from Miranda’s cove, where the mermaids gather. The great lands themselves protect it, with the difficult terrain of the highlands about it, and the blessing of the cloaking mist of the sea. The Great forest of the Hamadryad to its east up through the valley is filled with the enchantment of many fairy folk, and interlaced with roots and caves like that of a great labyrinth. The trees themselves are imbued with powers unknown.
With exception of the castles incredible stables and forges,
the wealth within the walls of Castle Rock hearth is all the
immodesties that any creature could have wanton for.
A Library boasting a great many books of the time and of times
past. A great hall
showcasing many articles of antiquity, paintings and magical
tapestries, all along with a great armory lining the corridors. Many rooms are prepared for a large number of guests.
The Kitchen is ready to accommodate a small army for months.
And the greatest part of the Castle is its observatory, laboratory and
hall of magic.
With all its unlimited mystique and wealth, the castle has been
inherited by a humble wyrd, Graymalkin. What Oberon intended for
Graymalkin to do with this entitlement, as Land Lord, is unknown, yet
since he has taken it, a great many have befriended the Castles realm,
and given their allegiance to the new fairy landlord.
Which, in Gray’s mind, pleases Oberon, friends of fairies are
friends to him, yet Oberon is often given to the wiles of his kind,
and Graymalkin is never sure of what it is he wants of him, only that
he knows how much of his life he owes to him.
Many eons ago, some three witches aided an unnamed
Duke to usurp himself into kingship. However, when all was said and
done he failed to return his debt to the witches, so they went about
creating two creatures, using their own familiars, that would extract
revenge upon the wretched Duke. However before they even had a chance
to prepare them for the assassination, the Duke was found out and
executed by his own kingdom. This left the witches with a empty heart
and a creation that had no longer any purpose for them. After much
deliberation it was decided that they should be given to their god
Oberon to do as he will with them, for a blessing on their souls.
Oberon took the two creatures and gave them over to the fairy lords to
raise and train as their servants. The three witches even in all their
greed were "blessed", and soon there after were taken by the
lands peoples and burnt on stakes. Oberon never made mention of the
three again, only that they were in a blessed place, through time and
space, where they could no longer do harm.
Graymalkin prides himself as a noble man, gracing many in a
gentile manner. His pride
however is not one of arrogance or gaudy opulence.
His riches have not blinded him to the fact that a humble
person is a blessed one. His
origins are a bit vague, as is the island, which he beacons from,
Greater Ireland. He seems
to recall being either a servant to, or a familiar for, the three wry
witches. He knows little
of them, only that they offered him later to Oberon, King of the
Fairies. Under Oberon, Gray was raised by elves and fairies, being
taught the secrets of magic and the arts of the magician. Sleight of hand, Fleet of foot and Grace in form, he mastered
the arts into a talent that soon became him.
Many times however, in a bout of self confidence, he was
quickly reminded of his mortality.
He gave creed to what he believed were the Gods of fate, Clotho,
Lachesis and Atropos. Three lovely ladies that gave him his life that
otherwise should have ended a long, long time ago. Fate was his
religion and sacred superstition.
Even having held the sword of Pericles, read into the crystal
ball of the Danaïdes and kissed the hand of the Lady of the Lake, for
all his study and incredible intellect he is a still showman.
The Grimalkin, are a rueful, spiteful, mischievous breed of fairy felines. Raised in a corrupted culture of narcissistic anarchy, with a distain for all other creatures, these fairies are well known for their blatant attacks against not only humankind, but every creature unlike themselves. Graymalkin is suspect to have been one of these deceitful creatures, or so many of the Grimalkin think. In actuality, although quite probable, no one is quite sure. Having all this in consideration, they are one of Gray’s greatest threats, they consider him an abomination and a threat to their own pure being. This is not only limited to a few Grimalkin is a small local either, the Grimalkin are an ungoverned community with close ties all over the world, even beyond Greater Ire’land. How they do this transindental communion is a mystery not even Oberon can answer too, yet what it means to Gray is that where ever he goes there could be a evil eye on him, with a rueful pride, just waiting to pounce.
Twas the fifteenth day of the Eighth month of the
One hundred and Seventh year of this the Post Apocalypse.
For 2 anums now, Paddock, the servant and friend that he knew so
well, was stolen from his view by a treacherous creature. Graymalkin knew nothing of its intents, but that it was a
creature driven by a need for slavery. Not even the great ramparts about
Castle Rock Hearth could have stopped it. The whole of Ire’land was at
his door and nothing could have been done for the sake of dear Paddock.
Graymalkin grew with rage at the creature, so having a sword of
kisentite stone forged and giving rouse to his guardian gargoyles, to
watch over his lofty castle, Graymalkin set out to find the lost soul of
his endangered friend Paddock.
This was Graymalkins calling, whence otherwise he was quite
content in his safe haven Castle Rock Hearth on the damned island of
Ire’land. His sole
purpose was to seek out and travel into the World, with little more than
that which he needed to survive and his own self, only to locate his
lost friend. Friendship, he
believed, was a pact that fate held for some that they nay nere forsake
one another even when one is in mortal danger of loosing their life.
his travels, one of his most favorite items is a magical book that
becomes what ever you decide you would like to read, holding in its
pages many fictional stories and novels, a library of information, able
to absorb the text of any book with the exception of magical texts.
Graymalkin uses this book in many cases to gain himself a meal or
money on his journey, by reading aloud in public and private places.
Quite often though he will disguise himself as a human traveler
so as not to frighten the locals with his feline visage.
Gray will always resort to methods of non violence if ever
confronted. He believes
that it is more courageous to turn from a fight than to engage one full
on. He has no qualms with
anyone himself, beside the misfortune of being the victim of prejudices
and outsider hatred; Gray has never found it any good to have any
partiality in opinions of character, creed or class.
In fact his experiences have if anything given him a good
perspective on the ignorance that comes from being pre-judgmental, and
will never abide anyone that does give it any thought.
What lies in the future for Graymalkin is yet unknown, he has his
quest for poor Paddock, and his personal cause in belief of fate, that
leads him on his adventures. What he does know is that Lord Oberon has kept him for some
purpose, even if small, the fairy lord rarely acts out of sheer good
will that won’t bring in a profit of some sort.
Will Gray ever find his friend. Will he ever learn of his true
origins, possibly leading him to Hecate, or having Oberon guide him on a
path that will eventually tell all? Masters only know…
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