Stones of Rhiadon

Stones of Rhiadon

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WpMetadataReadOngoing2h 20m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jun 17, 2012
Rhiadon is a land of Elves. Be they the High Elves in their lavish palaces and cities to the North, the Wood Elves of the forests and glades of the east, or even the Stone Elves residing in stately manors in the mountains of the south, they are all joined by one common ideal: a hatred of humankind. These peoples, though they are different as can be and there is little love lost between them, can all agree that mankind is a plague, and one that needs to be rooted out of the land. And so it is that two humans, brought together by the racism inherent in the society of the land, must overcome this prejudice and work together with the Elves to save them from the darkness that lurks in every corner, darkness unseen even by Elven eyes.
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cleric
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In this world, two realms breathe beneath the same sky - bound, opposed, and eternal. The Realm of Light flourishes with life and color: emerald forests stretching to the horizon, silver-tipped mountains crowned in clouds, and seas that glimmer like molten glass. Here, humans, elves, dwarves, and demi-humans carve their histories into cities of spires and song. Their markets hum with trade, their temples echo with prayer, and their banners flutter beneath the vigilant gaze of the Golden Circle - an order of knights clad in radiant white and gold. They call themselves arbiters of peace, keepers of balance. When kings falter and empires fall to greed, the Circle intervenes - not as saviors, but as judgment given flesh. Across the veil, the Realm of Darkness festers. A wasteland of shattered citadels and obsidian wastes, where rivers crawl like ink and the air itself hums with hunger. It is home to the Corroded, men and women stripped of soul and form, their bodies twisted by shadow. Here, Bloodfiends roam in packs, drawn to the scent of living flesh, and Hive Parasites whisper in unison - a single mind stretched across countless hosts. Light and Dark, divided yet inseparable. Two halves of a wound that refuses to close. And between them, a whisper endures - older than any king, sharper than any blade. A child shall be born of both realms, carrying the sun and shadow within. The Bringer of Balance. The Eclipse.

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