A loremaster's compilation of tales

[Mustardmanmcgee]

~ The Loreling's upbringing
[Introducing my career as a Loremaster]



"So... You're finally dead, are you..?" Asked a voice pouring forth with such perfect rhythm and rhyme that it can only be explained as to sound more melodious than a choir's hymn. It was divinely beautiful, yet righteous and commanding all in the same instant,

"..."

"And I assume you immediately regret your decision for death?" Asked the questioneer,

"I suppose." Spoke an emotionless voice,

"Oh?" Questioned the godly voice with mounting interest "Why would that be?"

"I may have neutralized the threat, but now I must pay the penalty for my crimes." The voice answered, straying from little emotion to an obviously saddened tone,

"Mustard..." Chimed the calming voice with a tinge of pity. The tone of the beauteous speech illuminated the heavy darkness, and revealed many wonders beyond the grasp of speech. I floated adrift, my feet skimming the forever spanning sea of the swirling essences of lost souls, who blindly bumped into each other in the darkness as they attempted to find their ultimate purpose in the universe. Overshadowing the expanse of souls was a series of arching bridge-like structures, ever changing and morphing, from lovely purple, fit for royalty, to the sanguine hue of gorgeous red, and so forth. With each consecutive shift in form the bridges seemingly morphed into something more intricate and wonderous in design than the one that which had proceeded it,

"Even though I feel pity for you, I cannot save you from your sentence to hell's lowest rings..." Said the voice, as the outline of a figure approached within view "Unless..."

"Unless?" I responded,

"If you can swear yourself into 400 years of service to the Zo, then we may revoke your punishment."

"Sounds fair." I spoke, letting a grin take the place of my monotone expression,

"Come closer." Responded the man, raising his arm and beckoning towards me with his hand. As I approached the Zo, each step I took continually blurred the lines of my surroundings, until everywhere I looked, I saw nothing more than brushed strokes of hazy color. Then all at once, as if commanded by the snap of a finger, my vision fazed back into an organized picture.

At that moment I had realized that I had somehow teleported to a completely different area than I had resided in prior. A room lay before me, contrite in width and length, yet quite comforting in its magnificent height. Brightening the room, came light casting down upon the floor, saturating the room with deeply lit hues,

"That desk is where you will work." Spoke the brightly outlined Zo,

"And this "work" is...?" I asked,

"You will be archiving all major events that come to pass in the multiverse." Said the Zo in his sing-song voice,

"From this room? How will I know when something important happens if I'm confined to a single room?" I asked worriedly,

"Hmph!" Laughed the Zo "You're a Loremaster now Mustard. Not a single event in the multiverse can slip past your quill." He finished, as I walked towards the authoritative desk, up the short steps, and seated myself upon a velvety cushion,

"Well, can I have a journal and a quill so I can get to work?" I asked, elbows poised upon the desk as if I was transcribing a text,

"Already provided." Said the Zo with a smile,

"Huh..?" I asked, looking down to realize that in my right hand lay a quill, and the left, a silver gilded book,

"Wait, when did you..." I asked as I scratched the top of my in bewilderment,

"You won't need to touch the quill to write, and the journal will never run out of pages." He finished, seemingly making no attempt to answer to my confusion "Now then. I will be busy with many things from now on... So I will have little time to mentor you." Said the Zo, taking lengthy strides to the door opposite my desk,

"Oh, in case you had wondered..." He spoke, pausing for a moment after he had reached the door and gripped the knob "I am the ancient soul and Zo Alator, chief Loremaster." Finished the Zo, opening the door and promptly taking his leave,

"Well... Looks like the next 400 years of my life are set." I said, leaning my back onto the wood floor.

Every moment of my life had seemed to return to me in that one moment. My first encounter with Ultnachopony, my lengthy chats with Dwarfers, building Vigil's wall with Malikdanab, that drunk sky pilot Aerokii... And then there was Solon and Gallifrey,

"Huh... I'm crying..." I mumbled, feeling a tear roll down my cheek and hang on my chin,

"Well, crying about it won't make them forgive me for what I've done to them." I said, wiping the tears from my face,

"Time to get started." I spoke aloud as I sat up, opened my journal, and readied my quill.

 

[Mustardmanmcgee]

Hello.

And yes. I am still very much alive.

I'm just lazy. Which isn't good.

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|0| Aegis Era Lore |0|
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Codices of Power and Relics of Old

When the first relic was unearthed and plucked from the earth's embrace, I'm convinced that the discoverer disregarded whetting his thirst for knowledge regarding the treasure that lay in his hands; but instead, hungered and lusted for the wealth it could bring when flaunted in the tent of a merchant. Thus these Relics, and later, Codices - compilations of relics pertaining to a certain area of trade or combat - as they are called, came to be a prominent item of trade among merchants, without anyone truly knowing its origin or lore.

Thus I have undertaken the task of recording the events and researching the possible upbringing of these 'Relics of Old and Codices of Power'.

First, we must understand how these Relics and Codices came into being. Or greater yet, who created them.

Most of the common folk of the Multiverse can recall at least one of the tales of Palladius who was feared as a brutish berserker, or Cecil FireDrake, the greatest Pyromancer to walk the Multiverse. These heroes of history are those of a certain expertise who excelled so mightily at what they did, they unlocked the hidden secrets of their 'class', and jotted these down into notes or symbols so that they may remember a certain technique or skill that they had discovered.

Now, as we all know, the hidden secrets of a trade will only elude the public for a limited amount of time. This meaning, that it was not long until these precious scraps of paper, riddled with ink splotches and marred with scribbled out recipes, were either stolen or sold to the public. From here, these booklets and notes were rounded up by kingdom officials, where they were copied several times over by lordly scribes and intellectuals for later use.

Now, one might wonder, "From here, how could these notes, or 'Relics', end up scattered across the multiverse among the dead and the earth's ores?"

I must admit, even in my extensive research I could not pinpoint when; but the desolation of the old and creation of a new world seemed to split the kingdom which held these documents and 'Relics'. After this kingdom had been thoroughly shredded and the remaining fetters burned by the cruelty of the new form the Multiverse had taken on, all that had remained were the Relics.

Some of these relics were later discovered and kept dearly and secretly by certain souls. These souls intertwined these Relics so deeply within themselves that their Relics clung to their souls far after the death of their physical body. Now, because everything in the multiverse is merely the recycled soul of a previous creation, the craftier of those who bound their relics to themselves became ores, waiting deep within the earth to be harvested and utilized for innovation; while some of those who owned relics of brutish power became corrupted by the burdenous power they held, and were contorted into monstrous beings, dragging their precious relics down with them into a hellish existence.

Thus is the history and lore of the relics.

More lore to be added soon.