The First Tale of Kylorin

Dalamus Ulom

Childe of Malkav
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
 Darkness shrouded the Lanun camp, the pitch blackness of the night broken only by little driftwood fires stretching across the large strip of beach just outside of a massive forest, their many bodies hunkered down in the darkness next to their little fires.


 A black brigantine ship sat anchored about a mile off shore, whilst a dozen rowboats  on the beach, watched over by a torch-bearing pirate. A few minutes later, a light sprinkling of rain would begin to come down.


 Away from the rest of the Lanun, a young lad was play fencing with a stick near one campfire, attacking the trees as if they had killed his father. On the other side of the fire, an aging Balsearph freed-man, covered in slave tattoos and wrapped up in multi-colored linen and little charms, would sit watching over the boy.


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 After a few minutes, the boy would seem to grow bored of his one sided war with the trees, and flop down into the sand next to the flames. "Uncle Perpy, I'm going to die, I'm so bored!" he said. The freed-man laughed at the childs exaggeration. "Then perhaps I could tell you a story? Mayhaps the Storm Witch and the Crow?" he asked. "No, that one's to scary"


The freed-man would spend another minute offering up stories that he could tell the boy, each on getting turned down for one trival reason reason or another.


 Finally, Uncle Perpy's eyes would twinkle at the boy, a smug grin on his face. "Perhaps the young pirate lord would like to listen to the story of how the greatest hero obtainined magic for all the world, hmm?" The boy's head would perk up at what the Balsearph said. "Kylorin?" he asked. Perpy nodded. "Yes please, Unlce Perpentach! I want that one!"


Perpentach would chuckle, before doing a little mock bow towards the boy whilst saying, "Ask and you shall recieve, oh mighty young lord," the boy giggled at the mock extravagance from the Balsearph.


 "Long ago, before the golden kingdom filled with demons and flew into the sky, before the petty dragon queen so selfishly named the land after herself, and even before the betrayers pledged themselves to the winged lizards and your ancestors took to Danalin's domain, a learned man by the name of Kylorin became the leader of a small group of people in what is now known as Yunakai."


"For centuries up to that point, the peoples of Yunakai had been in a terrible one sided war with the winged lizards, whom would hunt men and destoy anything the people built with impunity, burning up towns and castles alike without a care in the world."


 "Kylorin knew that there was no way to defeat the dragons with mortal weapons, and so he prayed to the gods for some way to defend his people. The Danalin, feeling mercy for the mortals, heard Kylorin's prayers, and convinced the other gods to work together in order to defend their chosen people."


 "Danalin knew that only the power of the gods would be able to defeat the winged lizards, and so, she convinced each of the other gods to give up a small part of themselves to further humanity. All agreed except for Ceridwen, Arawn, and Agares, who had created the dragons. So, Danalin stole small pieces of their power, and combined all the pieces to create a new god, and named him Cassiel,"


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 "Cassiel looked upon the humans plight, and, using his abilities of creativity, created the first stave, crafted from a trident made by Embarr. Due to the magnitude of the event, Cassiel himself entered creation in order to give the weapon to Kylorin himself, thus marking the first time a gods form was viewed by a mere mortal. However, Cassiel and the tridents entry into creation caused a domino effect, and unleashed magic like a tidal wave across the world, which mutated many creatures in odd and unknowable ways, and even caused the creation of the other great peoples of creation, the elves, dwarves, and hobbits, when magic first touched certain groups of humans."


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 "Kylorin accepted the gods gift, and upon touching the trident, godly power would flow into him, changing the fabric of his very existence, and had accidentally bestowed immortality unto the great King."


 "Taking the trident, he would do battle with the Great Wyrm King, called Ash-Wing in human languages. Ash-Wing was larger than any ship, even Ship-of-Line's! Even bigger than any town you have ever seen! And Kylorin took the Trident, and using the power of the wind, smashed the dragon into Kilmorph's embrace, and would then begin slashing Ash-Wing into pieces."


 "To each of the gods, he gave a piece of the Great Wyrm King. The lungs, he gave to Tali. The tail, to Condatis. The Eyes, to Brigit the Shining. To Embarr, he gave the scales. Basium, the Claws. The wings, to Junil. The tounge, Sirona. The heart and blood, to Danalin. To Bhall, the throat. To Kilmorph, he gave the skull."


 "Once Kylorin had given each of the gods a piece of the dragon, he found that to leave the Wyrm King to rot, or to simply eat him, would be to much like how the dragons had always acted towards his people. So, upon being struck with a brilliant idea of what to do, he would take the body up, and fling it into the sky, where Brigit the Shining would make the form into stars, and create the first constellation, in honor of Ash-Wing, Great King of the Wyrms' terrible power." The Balsearph freedman would finally finish the story.


 The boy had a rather confused look on his face, as though he were trying to wrap his head around something. "What is wrong, Falamar?" Perpentach asked of the boy. "Umm, I'm just sorta confused about a part of the story, is all. Why did Kylorin honor an opponet who did not even fight him honorably? An opponet who murdered women and children, and was even created by the evil gods?" Young Falamar asked.


 "Well, my little prince, no matter how horrible someone is in life, in death, everyone deserves some modicum of honor. Even a monsterous beast such as Ash-Wing," The older man said.


 The boy nodded, before lying down in the sand, resting his head on his arms. "Good night, Uncle," the boy would say, before yawning and quickly falling asleep. "Good night, my little Falamar," the freedman would mutter, before placing a little blanket over the boys now slumbering form. "Be free from Arawn," He whispered, doing a little hand motion over the childs head.
 
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