To your guilds you’ve gone, a home you’ve found.
But be bound not, to where you lay
For you cannot stay, a world yet you must cross
Yet, if ever at a loss, you must not stop
For only one, atop may sit, the Hero of All Realms
Though skilled are all
and to all are, second,
to One you fall
only one may last
the rest, forgotten, in the past
alone is, the Hero of All Realms
So: the wittiest, strongest, most daring & most powerful beings in all the land - driven by an inner instinct - marched in the direction of the guild that their spark most aligned. While every folk was unmatched in their respective discipline, they each had unrecognizable ways of preparation for the challenges to come. Some sharpened steel in The Pits while some sharpened mind in The Library. Some packed their rations and set out to brave the lands of Tol Eressëa while some bent the knee to gather wisdom or clarity. And yet still some, whether from an otherworldly confidence or stupidity, spent their days with a pint in hand at The Tipsy Gypsy Tavern, perhaps the holiest place in all Tol Eressëa.
Regardless of how they spent their idle time, The Mighty: the Vicar of Souls, the Iron Fist, the Silent, and the Archmage Supreme soon gathered their herd of heroes and journeyed them forth into the mysterious lands of Tol Eressëa, with every resource needed to claim honor for their guild & bring glory and riches to themself, perhaps, as The Hero of the Multiverse.
Some of the initiates siloed themselves, choosing to stalk the competition from afar. Still others, bolstered by some inner rational, joined together in arms as they set forth on their quest. Some even found camaraderie in the ranks of other guilds. Three members in particular, whether by fate or choice it is unclear, found themselves uniquely bound. Two from the ranks of Skullbash, known in their lands as Elodin & GeraldK. The other from the Alliance of Arcana, Hexprat.
As this trio ventured the lands of Tol Eressëa they lost their way within the Umbra Vale, for not one among them knew to read the stars. Frustrated by their ill fate, Elodin foolishly sought shelter within an overgrown ruin, and upon entering discovered an object. It sat upon a crumbling altar, and glinted in the torchlight. With confidence and explicit unthinking, Elodin chose to handle the relic. This disruption of the ancient relic known as The Ark of the Valar, soon began a quake within the crypt and collapsed all exits. The Seed of the Gods had awoken, and by the Valar’s powers gifted by Eru Ilúvatar, the gods of the multiverse were thrusted into existence.
Blinded by a radiation of shimmering light from the Prismatic Bridge, our party of three were hopelessly pitted against incarnation after incarnation of the mightiest deities to exist outside of Aman. However, deities like The Scarab God and Bontu met their final deaths to Hexprat, Conquistador of Death. Athreos & Cosima, bound by the might of Elodin, the Unstoppable, were forced to escort their brethren (and themselves) back from whence they came. These two great heroes fell nonetheless, and alone stood GeraldK, the Ender. Loosing his rage on friend and foe alike, summoning a tidal wave of allies to his side, Geraldk blotted out the Ethereal Light of The Ark itself - blotted out a light second only to The Valar themselves.
Another tug is felt coming from within your sparks as images of the feats of Elodin, Hexprat, and Geraldk unfold before your eyes.
Let your eyes lay claim on the valour of The Ender & his party. Revel in the fact that this glory is but a fly to that which awaits The Hero of All Realms. The Dungeon of the Ark of the Valar is but a house chore compared to that which awaits those who bring Influence to their Guild.
The images fade away from around you, and in their place images of Elbleino, the Silent and his guildling, Crazypersonn6613 assume reality.
Just as your heart basks in the greatness of GeraldK, your eyes are averted to witness the shame of Elbleino, the Fallen & his guildling, Crazypersonn613, the Usurpur. Watch as they mock the lands of Tol Eressëa, Elbleino’s fellow Valar, and even Eru Ilúvatar itself. Let it be known that I have cast these two into the very bowels of Aman, and there they shall fester unless their guild can return glory unto them.
So which path will you choose, Hero?
All the while, in the nest of Guilds, lines were being drawn. Some say not all who wander are lost, but the headless patrons of the Timeless Wanderers were ironically so. With one enemy taking care of themselves the Keepers quickly ascended to the role of puppet master. They sowed a frenzy of paranoia amongst The Skullbashers, their addled minds incapable of recognizing the ploy. Predictably, the Alliance of Arcana dallied away in their Library on theory instead of action, except when to claim intellectual superiority over the others. While the Keepers stoked the embers of discord in the mead halls, they dutifully conquered on the battlefield, swelled their flock, and transformed their initiates into unyeilding advocates of the light and darkness.
At Last Light on Freedom’s Eve, let it ring through the lands that the Guild of the Keepers of the Way has found favor with the land of Tol Eressëa. Choose from among you the mightiest and most chivalrous, and await their summoning to The Dungeon of The Land Eater. For glory to Guild & Land alike.
Lover, fighter, dreamer, schemer, gamer.
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