Fantasy Ascent

[Kanassa]

no slide

The idea

Kavik is a wasteland of fire and brimstone, home to only abominations, destruction and charred corpses of once adventurous/idiotic men and woman. It was said that once Kavik was a fertile place, where humans used to live, but circumstances unknown to any living creature utterly destroyed the land. But in destruction, a new home was made, Kavas.


Habitable islands were found above the putrid and dark clouds of Kavik, islands that ranged from as big as a house to as large as a country. The former inhabitants of Kavik had found salvation, or so they thought. Upon spreading across the various islands they discovered (With the aid of air ships), they met other species, some being friendly and others being very hostile.


After some time the humans had managed to find empty islands, where they set up their new foundations and began to prosper, soon managing to form a formidable 'empire of their own' thanks to being introduced to new technology from the other races. In only a hundred years later, they had managed to move past the threat of extinction they had faced before. But it was then, that SHE appeared.


Islands were engulfed in flames, fleets were turned to scrap and blood rained upon Kavas. The source of the powerful attacks wasn't hard to find, she struck hard, fast and made sure to make sure she was noticed. A creature had come from the depths beneath Kavas with a legion of abominations at it's beck and call, forming an near invincible force that couldn't even be dented by any of Kavas's people.


The creature announced itself as Salvanis, though many came to call her various other names (The Horned Demon, Shedevil, Banshee of Demise, ect). Her origins are shrouded in mystery, with only speculations to her motives, while she outright states that she is amused by watching others struggle, everyone looks for a deeper meaning. Some say she was the cause of the cataclysm that made the wasteland of Kavik and came to finish the job, others say that she was made from the event, inflicting some sort of vengeance against those she thinks caused it.


When she saw how easy it was to decimate every island she came across with her armies and mystical powers, she stopped her attack and made an offer. Every fifty years she would purposely weaken her own forces and allow her enemies the chance to directly attack her lair and kill her, but she would only give this chance to a small amount of adventurers, Kavas best of the best. So, she would hold a tournament that tested everyone who entered to find the so called best, this tournament would end with five total teams that would work together to vanquish her.


It has been this way for over fifty generations, not one team has managed to take the demon's head, nor has many survived. Ones that have are usually walking with less wishes to go back, some even have known to lose their mind and memories or are added to Salvanis's roster of abominations. Some have tried to attack Salvanis with more then just five small teams, but have only met failure. The lair she reveals changes locations each time a team enters.


Can you be the lucky set of madmen that take the Banshee's head and all the glory that comes with it?

 

[Kanassa]

Dashade, I know we have not heard from one another in years and just like you, I'd prefer it to be kept that way. But something in the stars has arisen, a warning, something disastrous is coming to Kavas and it's not too farfetched to to think it has something to do with the next Grand Tournament coming up.


Please, I need you to meet me at the "Twisted Horns", it's a bar, so I know you'll already know what I'm talking about.

Dashade felt like a fool, sitting on his own in the corner of the noisy sea of cheering drunks, the Draknathar's long snout had no trouble with the smell of alcohol that infested it. Upon another thought of alcohol, Dashade downed his fifth cup of Duskstorm Ale, the brown liquid tickling the lizard's throat as it traveled down into his stomach.


Well, they always said that I drunk enough to be naturally drunk. Maybe that's why I believed that note. It had been a whole day since he found the note flung through his window after returning home, a wave of regret and anger had infested him upon reading the contents. It was supposedly from an old friend, the handwriting had been exactly how he remembered it. Every time he doubted that it was real, he would remind himself of that. Besides, no one else on this island knows who I am or even where I live. No, it had to be her.





Another swig of the addictive forbidden liquid, the growling and resistance from his stomach only telling him that it was some good alcohol. The sickly green scales of his hand gave out a small glimmer where he went to slam a fist into the leather coating that covered his stomach, bringing his attention to his hand, where the symbol of a golden eagle gazed up at him. He did not need to deal with old memories right now.


"Hey, Conker!" His naturally loud and slurred voice caught the hulking bartender's attention, a Krog bartender. Which only meant that you're in good hands when it came to alcahol. "Give me another round!"


"You know, Lizard. If you want to get drunk, why not just order up some Tulak?" The question brought only obnoxious and drunken laughter from the Draknathar.


"That drink was made for a krog's stomach and I don't think even they can handle it. I may be blind drunk, stupid and half dead. But I'm not smart... Wait, I think I said that wrong" He stumbled to his feet, the light leather armor making a few quiet noises, though the two aged swords upon his back made plenty of irritating sounds as he moved. "So just get me another blue thing..."


"Duskstorm is brown"


"Okay, purple!" The man froze for a moment, sighing when realizing there would be no response from behind him. He expected a comment of 'Still drunk, I see', but no. Only the cheers of drunks. She's not coming. He considered just walking out of the door right now, going back to his make shift house to drink himself to sleep. But something urged him to stay in the room and it wasn't loyalty to the friend who was hours late for a meeting, a friend he hadn't seen in years. If he could call her a friend.


Besides, the island of Arkos, while a touch too cold, was very good on the eyes this time of year.