Oerthe's Crown

Oerthe's Crown

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Jan 27, 2016
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Fiction
Fantasy
"You don't get to be master without drawing some blood." ------------------------------------------------------------------ The bloodiest wars are fought not on the battlefield, not in the royal courts, but in the hearts and minds of the people. In the heart of the citadel, defended by walls of stone, sits a emperor upon his blood throne. For hundreds of generations, Oerthe's crown has been won by war. Emperor Kaedrith rules the empire with a iron vice, training his army for a battle he knows is bound to happen. Those who dare oppose him are met with the blissful kiss of Death. The nation, shining as fool's gold, is a carcinogenic viper to the raven-like kings that watch their prey. Every monarchy must have its end. Now, hidden in the royal court, secrets begin to surface, threatening the change that comes soon. Rebellions whisper the end of the reign, Algyaens and Xuflians bent on regaining their kingdom, no matter the cost. Their vengeance will stop at nothing, determined to regain the years they have lost. But with their people bound in the chains of slavery, the price for their revenge might come at a cost they cannot pay. Thick with traitors and lies, the empire is crumbling piece by piece. In silence and shadows is Azrael's Alliance, ready to play their hand in its downfall, as they have for thousands of years. They fight to uphold the names the stories have bestowed them. They fight for the magic Oerthe has wronged. They fight for all those whose voices have lost to fear. They fight for the tales, the myths, which have given them such power over the realm. They are persistent, unflinching, decisive, unfaltering, reminiscent of the gods who once ruled their world. 9 Masters. 9 Apprentices. Writing a legend in blades of steel.
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Two divine sisters tore a newborn world apart-and left mortals to decide its fate. From the Creator's dream rose Aeliana, Goddess of Dawn and order, and Nyx, Queen of Shadows and possibility. Their rivalry, once a distant celestial dance, became open war. Lesser gods chose sides. The sisters descended and forged champions: the radiant Aethra and the fearsome Umbrals-masterworks so specialized that, in some gifts, they rivaled their makers. Stars went dark. The earth split. In grief and fury, the Creator bound His daughters deep beneath the world. The land took a new name: Aethelgard-the God-Prison. But their armies fought on. Seeking balance, the Creator spent his last spark to make Humanity-creatures of compassion and cruelty, capable of mediating light and shadow, and, through discipline, of climbing toward godhood itself. Apotheosis became the ultimate mortal dream. A thousand years of uneasy peace followed. Ambition broke it. The War of a Hundred Races redrew the map in blood. From the ruins rose seven powers, with fragile city-states between them. In secret, Aethra and Umbrals manipulated the living like pieces on a board. Now the stalemate frays. Old songs stir. Hidden weapons wake. Heroes and monsters-sometimes the same-move in the dark to claim a future neither goddess could foresee. Welcome to Aethelgard, where gods are buried, mortals reach for heaven, and one choice can unmake a world.

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