The God's of Xeno-movia have long died out, killed in the war of races against the Casarns, a brute like race that believed theirselves superior to the God's. Since the death of the God's man has taken up control of the world, dominating it's lands and sending the other races into hiding.
The Dwarves hid in the mountains they so loved, the gnomes hid in the hills, the five beast races used large natural surroundings to hide away, the elves, what was left of them, hid behind their dark master's, and the orcs were banished to the scar for refusing to participate in the Gods war.
Grall and Grodak, orc brothers born in the scar, had different ways of living. Grall, the younger brother, was born with the gift to speak to those of his tribe that had passed away, he became the chief of the tribe using the elders knowledge to benefit them. Grodak, the elder brother, never much cared to lead, he always preferred to create metal works in a forge.
One mistake, that's all it took to force them out of their chosen roles and into another. Grall, the one who made the mistake, was banished from his tribe and forced to wonder the world. Grodak, the one who worked to fix the mistake the most and reclaim the honor that was lost, was made the new chief.
Ten years later, the small mistake now hounds at the both of them as they make their way to Whitewater, in hopes they can fix the troubles they have. There they will meet imp, a genius Dasari/Pyroniam, Adrian, a charismatic human who never backs down from a fight,, especially when his friends depend on him, and Tyril, the king of Whitewater, who will send them off to find what they have been searching for this entire time.
Disclaimer
The Rebirth Algorithm is a product of Jarada Daedre. If you want to play a game of TRA then join us on mrpg, or play a game of your own using the 1e handbook on my page.
All art is owned by the respective artist. Title page art work is the property of novadark
The Shadow of the East is a monster.
Tyrin Caderyn is no better.
They've met before, but memory painted each a ghost and a flicker of familiarity. Both of them hail from strong and vicious bloodlines. Time and tragedy and choice bind them together.
War is on the horizon, and Shadow is in the midst of schemes and plans greater than her. She's on the run from a man she learned to hate, and her own past. Her secrets can destroy her.
Tyrin is an Elite warrior for the Ilystari Realm and answers only to the king and queen. When he's sent to hunt down a powerful female, he doesn't question the orders. But when he meets her, everything changes.
Darkness encroaches and alliances break. Bonds are formed and friendships shatter. There is a greater power at play than either of them realized. Has fate drawn them together, or something stronger?
--
She huffed a quiet laugh. "Well, I suppose I'll get paid one way or another for his death. If you let me keep his body, you have a deal."
Tyrin darted his eyes back to gauge the honesty of her response, but she sounded sincere. He finally nodded. Her grin was nothing shy of wicked. Something inside his chest reared it's sleeping head and purred at that expression.
"I hope you and I never meet again. These Realms aren't ready for us."
Weren't ready for her, he wanted to correct. A shiver of a promise zinged through his blood and he grinned back at her. "What's your name, little assassin?"
She started melting back into the shadows - back the way she'd come to give him the privacy of the kill. "I am no one and nothing. Forget about me, pretty male. It won't do to dwell on a shadow."
And then she was gone.