Glorious Alpha Two Testers!
Alpha Two Realms are now unlocked for Phase II testing!
For our initial launch, testing will begin on Friday, December 20, 2024, at 10 AM Pacific and continue uninterrupted until Monday, January 6, 2025, at 10 AM Pacific. After January 6th, we’ll transition to a schedule of five-day-per-week access for the remainder of Phase II.
You can download the game launcher here and we encourage you to join us on our for the most up to date testing news.
Alpha Two Realms are now unlocked for Phase II testing!
For our initial launch, testing will begin on Friday, December 20, 2024, at 10 AM Pacific and continue uninterrupted until Monday, January 6, 2025, at 10 AM Pacific. After January 6th, we’ll transition to a schedule of five-day-per-week access for the remainder of Phase II.
You can download the game launcher here and we encourage you to join us on our for the most up to date testing news.
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Archetype: Mage
2nd Archetype: Cleric
Race: Vaelune
The popular adage, "Knowledge is power..." is a principle firmly ingrained in Matthias' mentality. As the born son to a scholar of the Academy, it should come as no surprise that during his formative years, the time spent stealing glances at his mother's desk bred a certain curiosity for the occult and the mystical arts. His affinity for magic wouldn't come until much later, at the cusp of his childhood, a bit later than most other mages, but he took to his mother's tutoring in stride; quickly poring over manuscripts of other accomplished mages and replicated many of their abilities, at a novice level of course. The two would spend hours practicing their craft, strengthening their bond through shared interests. One late evening, whilst studying the stars, the subject of his wayward father came up; a Kaelarian ( I assume this is the appropriate demonym) sell-sword that had been hired to protect her expedition to a neighboring isle. She spoke of the merchant vessel that had ferried them to the island, and the handsome warrior that had guarded their voyage. After they had made port in the mainland they went their separate ways. It wasn't until days later that she learned she was with child, but by then it was too late. He had already secured passage leagues away. She attempted to make contact, but to no avail - all she had left to remind her of him was a religious pendant she gifted to Matthias on his thirteenth nameday.
Matthias was raised among the renown merchants of Vaelune, but never quite developed their shrewd business sense. He'd often find himself being swindled by the cunning merchants of the arcade so he tended to avoid large, open markets. Instead, he spent his days roaming the libraries of the Scholar's Academy, where his mother and the other scholars taught him all he needed to know. Not all were benevolent teachers, however, some academics he met chose a darker path to knowledge. Some would lie, cheat, steal, and kill to get what they wanted -- one of these men was Gaius Iorwen.
For the better part of his life, his mother had dedicated herself to studying relics of the old world, attempting to unravel the mysteries behind their exodus; but she was not alone in this pursuit. Others studied similarly, all racing each other to be the first to pioneer discoveries in the field - Gaius was one of these people - he had established himself as a rival early on in her career and had hounded her ever since. He openly criticized her work and veiled his threats, but she never took him seriously. The salty old man will die by his anger one day, she would say. Perhaps his threats should have been heeded.
During a starless night, she had just verged on a breakthrough when a hired cutthroat snuck into her study and murdered her. When Matthias came to visit one early morning he was met with the lifeless body of his mother; and all her research had disappeared. It didn't take much time or effort to come to a conclusion as to who was responsible, but there was no way he could prove it - not without her notes. You see, she coded her notes; and to any without her cipher the text would be intelligible; and to his knowing, she was the only one with that particular script that he knew of. So he forwent his period of mourning and instead solely focused on revenge.
When he heard Gaius had stepped through one of the divine portals leading to the old world, he decided that he would follow and exact his revenge...
An only child, raised by wet nurses and au pairs, he saw and knew very little of his parents. His father, noble councilman, esteemed trader, through his eyes, seemed heartless and corrupt. His mother, renowned artisan and debutante, to him seemed cold and distant.
At the pubescent age of 45, he slipped out of his room, crept alongside the priceless tapestries flapping gently in the midnight breeze, through the grandly vaulted hallway lit by torches flickering along its finely hewn marble columns, and onto the moonlit balustrade, where he paused to take in the dimly lit city below. It seemed somehow to pulse with its own heartbeat, sprawling like some wounded leviathan trapped in a ribcage of vast city walls.
He inhaled the flinty desert air and felt its beckoning call. He needed to escape. He didn't know exactly where he wanted to go, but he did know for sure where he didn't want to be.
Hoisting his duffle over his shoulder, stuffed as full as he could manage with family jewels and expensive heirlooms, he paced down the steps and into the unknown.
Thirty five years later. L'ex awoke in a muddy ditch, groggy, unkempt, reeking of booze.
"And there won't be a next time until you settle your account!" a female human voice screeched.
He squinted in the bright sunlight, unable to focus. "Sorry, Madame," he said with his thick Elvish accent. "I'll pay up. Soon as I find my shoe. Soon as, I-" He collapsed back into the mud. It felt strangely soothing.
"Ger ye ass up outa there, ye lightweight tentpole!" came a coarse but familiar voice...
Shiver is an old orc, perhaps the oldest you have seen, perhaps not. Her body is still strong, she is quick and sharp witted, her eyes are clear and kind. Still after just being around her you might feel like time is passing more slowly. As you look more closely you can see the marks of time on her face, thin lines where terrible wounds must have once been. You can see remnants of old tattoos, runes and markings, scarification who's originally meaning is lost.
Her belongings they are few but seem much the same. You have seen her...if you looked. She could be found gathering resources, offering crafting classes and free food at the Wayside Inn, sometimes she processes ores. Sometimes you can find her cutting huge logs for some project or another with a double headed axe. She has a suit of full plated armor with strange symbols on it, the armor is like her from another time - another world. If you ask her about it she will shrug and just say that long ago she was a crafter.
"I don't have a sad story." Shiver says in her oddly accented voice. "Or even that remarkable one. I am one of the undying just like all of us here. We will fight for glory, for profit for defense or lust, maybe for love or hate but we will come back even from death. My children are grown now for a few hundred years or one hundred worlds and my parents long dead from the treachery not of anything other then age.
I have had a good life and will continue to do so. Here on this world I feel young again or what I remember youth was supposed to feel like, I will need to relearn old skills and maybe new ones. Long ago I harvested sheep for wool and once had a dragon who I had bonded with. Who knows what this world will bring. So many portals I have gone through. So many worlds seen. She smiles, her tusks gleam sharply. I have been there when worlds ended before, once we danced on the top of a tree as the stars fell around us. The Gods joined us and said soon the world would begin anew. It did, on that they did not lie, it was not the world we were told would come so many of us moved along. World after world, some stay behind, sometimes we separate. The Ladies in White, Draco Ascendants, The Lost Brethren, Ex-Umbris, The Old Timers guild, The Fun Bunch and so many more. Some I led, some was a highly ranked officer and sometimes I just cleaned up the messes. In this world, in this time perhaps you and I shall become companions, fighting, crafting, healing and destroying. Or perhaps we will see each other across the battlefield where catapults rain burning sand down upon us. Even then I might give you a wink and a nod, we will rise and fight again.
Tell me, if you can, tell me if you remember, what world did you come from? Why did you step through one of the Gods portals to come here?
.
Archetype: Cleric
Race: Elf (Emp)
I recall the void from whence I came, a swirling pool of colors, sounds of my parents, the feeling of warmth and happiness and then nothingness. The next memory I have is growing up in a land riddled with machine like creatures, argons. The same creatures that took my parents, I swore to destroy. The land of Arborea was a beautiful sight to behold, many adventures were had and many companions fell. With the threat of the argon queen stomped out and very few ties holding me back, I made the decision to find a new life.
After brief encounters in worlds such as Tamriel, trying my luck in a shattered Earthen realm full of martial artists and a short stop near a blackened desert I reached the shores of a beautiful world. This land was unknown to me, it was another adventure waiting to be explored. Not shortly after I arrived, a great calamity befell. Corruption, they called it. I was escorted through a portal the mortals of the land called a divine gate, from there I was taken to a safe place where I would live and unable to tap into my magical abilities, I was stranded for years.
That peace was shortly lived, an expedition to return to that forgotten world was about to embark. In all my years of living, I thought the excitement of being adventurer had faded but something about exploring a forgotten world intrigued this elf. Once again I would wield magic and lend my healing talents to this new generation of mortals. So my journey begins anew, step back through this portal to find a new story and a new home.
Race: Kaelar, Human
Archetype: Mage
Backstory: Kesarakk is a mage, belonging to an order of mages who lived within the Tower of Zaezel. He spent many years of his life learning the ways of alchemy. His last known mission was to discover the reasons behind the reactivation of the Gateways, which has stirred much trouble in his kingdom.
This is just the beginning, and those interested in more details about Kesarakk can read about his adventures ((Current adventures?)) in the Journal Entries discussion.
Side Note: If you would like your character to know or interact with Kesarakk in these Journal Entries, message me and we can collaborate on a fun story that will continue well past Ashes Launch.
Name: "Santra"
Race: Dünir
Class: Bard
Secondary Class: Bard, Cleric or Rogue
Backstory:
"Sandrane Brigildia Gundora Rumerald " , that's a mouthful isn't it? No wander she only goes by using "Santra". She hates her real name, for her it all sounds like a bad joke. But for her mother it's all business, a name needs to reflect the position in life you are aspiring to reach she says and to which her third and the most unrespectful daughter replies: ”Well, in that case.... I should probably go bye... Santra – the cutthroat or Santra - the street rat. Wich one do you think suites me more, Dear Mother? ”
Climbing up the latters of dwarven society is tough job and takes generation to achieve. Rumerald family, once called mere Stone-Cutters, had risen far from the small-time mining and trading family it used to be only six generations ago. Speaks volumes of the determination of their family and maybe also of the change in the dwarven society at large that such a climb to almost low-nobility is possible in such a short time. This is much due to clever marriages their family has brokered over the generations, it doesen't hurt either that their family has been generally well-blessed with both financial matters as well as sheer number of available children to be married off. The current head of the family is no exception to this rule. The sharp tongues of the town say that: ”If it's not the determination, wit or the heavy coinpurse of Master Thormand that will lift one of theirs to nobility, it will be the loins of Matron Brilgia, for surely she will not stop popping out little Rumeralds untill one of them has made it.”
That one, probably isn't going to be Santra. She was anything but the obidient well-behaved daughter her parents hoped she would grow up to be. She was smart, there was no doubt about that, but she got bored easily and when there wasen't anything new to study and read she left for her own adventures. Few days later she would come back home filthy and smelly and excited about everything she had seen. Her mother would always try to make her future escapes impossible but sooner or later she seemed to allway find away.
When her older siblings had been wedded into prosperous families of some note, her mothers gaze landed on her. Without her foolish ways, she wasen't on paper too difficult to find a spouse for. She was clever, had good business sense, though not the most beautifull of the bunch she wasen't too bad looking either and had a very nice voice for singing. Still suitor after suitor left their home running after spending some time alone with her. Her mother grew desparate, the little excursions she had were worrying her immensely. What would happen to their family name if her trips would come to public knowledge and she would be involved with a scandal.
For everyones relief she came up with a solution on her own, one evening she walked into her fathers study when both of her parents were there going over the book keepings and asked their promission to join the priesthood. This was sertainly not the best solution, her mother thought since it was a wasted opportunity for gaining more power through marriage but it would help them get her out of the city and out of harms way since all new acolytes are subjects to spend decades in near isolation in the temples studying old texts and relics. Besides priesthood is still a suitable future for one of their standing.
After that they rarely saw their daughter Sandrane (which is still the name her mother uses of her), but it seemed like she was flourishing despite the harsh hierarchial ways of the priesthood. She had put much effort in studying everything she could and were considered one of the most intelligent and hardworking new acolytes, though perhaps not the best mannered. She had found highly ranked tutor for her self among the priests. Gwindora had seen her pupil to be quick learner and was interested on her carrier, she also did her best to quiet the little storm Santra's quick tongue sometimes created.
Perhaps it was because of Gwindora's absent that the catastrophe hit. It was the year after Santra's official priesthood had begun. Gwindora and many other highly ranked priests had left for a some sort of exploration quest, and there was some turmoil in the leadership of the priesthood. Not Brilgia nor her husband Thormand asked for the reasons when their daughter suddenly visited them on a rainy day in mid-autumn. She wasn't wearing the red robes of the priest any longer, now dressed as a commoner and only explanation she gave them was she had left the priesthood for good and that she is going to move very very far away from the Dwarven Kindoms. She said her goodbyes to her parents and sended greeting to her siblings by the door and apologized for any inconvenience maybe caused by her. That was the last time they ever saw their daughter. Some strange rumors spread about the priests, scandals at the temples. Rumors tell of a group of priests being disgraced and expelled from the priesthood after a theft of an old sacred artifact but luckily the rumors were vague and at least the Rumerald name and family was never connected to them.
Name: "Wren"( until naming conventions come out.)
Archetype: Cleric
Race: Elf
If Empyrean:
Despite being youngest of 3 silblings, Wren has always dreamed of being a cleric, owing to more than a few fanciful stories of their talents. Her fairly conservative attire often belies her headstrong and fiesty nature.
Name: Cyass Kellborn
Archetype: Mage
Race: Kaelar
Within every past, there's a history. And amidst the pages of its tales, written by the many, the truth lies. Society, as the collective communities call themselves, have sought to reclaim the Old World their ancestors left behind. Weakening themselves over new lands with stale riches they cling to the Known and seek that which is nothing but familiar to themselves and their ways. Not Kellborn.
Cyass Kellborn was taken in as a child by the Py'Raien Elves after they found him amongst the dead. A caravan of farmers and tradesman seeking a new land of their own raided by bandits. They would have left him to nature's will if not for the unrelenting draw coming from this child. A Py'Raien shaman by the name of Ruscael, took towards the boy. His family and friends slaughtered, yet he showed no fear. As he stared in Cyass's emerald eyes he could feel the lush growth of the forest. Unending and bountiful, but balanced by a cold fury. Like Nature's spear held pressed to the throat of mortality without malice. And so Ruscael took the boy as his own.
Years passed, and Cyass grew. As he came of age, Py'Rai custom dictates he undergo the Rites of Passage, where a youth proves his or her strength to the tribe, and upon success, will be granted a Name by their father, and welcomed into the tribe as family for all moons thereafter. Cyass was mentored by Ruscael, one of the most respected shamans in the history of the tribe, and of course, passed. For becoming a man, by Fire and Blood, Cyass was given the name Kaldsjel, meaning "soul of stone." And then his real training began..
Over the course of many seasons, Ruscael trained Cyass in the ways of magic and sowed the seeds of wisdom within his mind. All that he knew in this life he imparted to his adopted son. History, alchemy, war, agriculture and so much more. Yet, he knew there was more to learn, more to mysteries to solve. So in time as all young men do, Kellborn grew restless, and took his leave of his tribe to pursue even greater knowledge. With his book of spells and oaken staff, he set off to learn of the Old World and all her mysteries. And of what his ancestors left behind...
Race:Nikua (Island Dwarf)
Class:Rogue/Ranger
Physically he is your typical dwarf about 4’ in height, jet black hair and beard, Sea green eyes. His frame is slight for dwarf. His life as a child was non remarkable his parents both whom still live work as artisans. His father Bazil is an acclaimed jeweler whose works of art are highly sought after by those with wealth. His mother works as a non-commission officer as leader of the scouts in the district. His early life was shaped by his desire to follow his mother into the military as a Scout. He spent several years refining his ability to track as well as hunt and set snares.When free his father would often send him to pick up material from the local shops and he eventually made friends with a fellow named Rathus who was the local tuff in the human circle.Rathus employed several people for various work and on an occasion he asked Twist to help him unlock a small box he had acquired and he offered to split it if Twist could get it open. Twist agreed and took the box back to his home.
Twist went into his fathers workshop and attempted to cut the box open but the box would not be cut, frustrated he even used one of the large hammers on the box, it didnt break so in his frustration he attempted to pick the lock with a bit of wire and a small rod. When he did so it did not go well, He triggered the trap and it stung his palm. The pain was overwhelming. When he woke up he was in the local hospital and the healer explained to him that the trap was a rune that had triggered to knock the thief out and to cause pain while doing so.
His parents were not happy, and shortly after Rathus was kicked off the Isle. It took Twist several weeks to recover and during his convalescences he pleaded with his parents to get him books on Runes and lock picking he explained he did not want anyone else to go through what he had. His father brought him several books and even a set of lock picking tools. His mother resigned herself to the fact that her son was not going to be scout for the Isle.
Over the next decade he refined his craft and became a local legend when it came to disarming traps and researching Runes. He left the Isle after he finished his master work craft piece which was a tome of ancient Runes and there uses. Do to his extensive knowledge on Runes and their uses he was one of the first to travel through the portal He had several partners and friends that traveled through with him. One of which was a surveyor that kept him on his toes. Havoc was a human but he was as true a friend as Twist has ever had, the quirky man was an upper echelon society type, Wealth held no appeal to him as he was already wealthy, what did appeal to him was experience of exploring there ancestral homeland.
Archetype: Rogue/Bard
Race: Vaelune Human
Backstory: Orphaned as a child Vandwyn was raised in a quaint household. His adopting father a musician while his mother traded sundry wares at the marketplace. He found peace in the songs that his father and buskers had performed, yet he had always a keenness for the deftness of his uncle who taught him a thing or two about the tricks of the trade. At age 15 he witnessed the abduction of his sister Elyss, the ransom placed upon her was unfathomably high and thus the family thought that they would never see her again. While his parents presumed the worst, Vandwyn always kept in him a persistent hope that somehow Elyss was still alive. Her whereabouts haunted him for years until an unexpected tip-off led him fatefully to her side. As he liberated her from her cruel captors, he found himself trading places.
While Elyss had managed to evade the outlaws, a blow to the head knocked Vandwyn near unconscious. He found himself at the mercy of two renegades; one forced his blade to Vandwyn's head and noted the pouch hanging from Vandwyn's side, the other smirked gesturally as he began to lower his breeches while uttering: "Your life depends upon it". "I'd sooner whet my blade with your blood than cower in humiliation"; and with a fell swoop he engaged in battle. For what seemed like an eternity the renegades took turns sparring until at last the songs of war inspired Vandwyn to dispatch of his foes. Scarred and bloodied but still alive, Vandwyn spat upon the men he slew and from them he took possession of one of their seals. With his blade in one hand and seal in the other he whispered... "I could get used to this". Sheathing his blade he walked into the night.
Like people who only know English getting the wrong Chinese characters tattooed on their bodies. Or stores in Asia that put up signs with gobbledygook English.
Race: Elf (empyrean)
Class: Mage (probably /fighter)
Nothing is known of Ereborn childhood, and nothing will be unless he wants you to know.
He doesn't.
Whatever was of his life in the past, you can deduce that most of it was passed in search of knowledge and the power that's hidden within.
Some old folk may still remember decrepit voices about some kind of tower in which he would have dwelt, but no one actually exists that can find its exact whereabouts. The name itself, with time has crumbled into oblivion and is now known and pronounced with utter skepticism and commiseration for those who believe in its existence, as the Lost Tower.
He, that no one has seen in ages, that is neither believed to be still alive, for wathever reason he collected knowledge, seems to think of it as his own right and property.
He knows, you don't and never will.
Knowledge is his to use and gather and if you have some of any sort, be sure that something will come to visit in order to... extract it from you, or your corpse. Knowledge comes in many ways, it's not always words, and you're not always needed to be alive to graciously pass on the informations to their rightful and definitive owner.
Naturally, he knows of the previous world and the cataclysm, but he wants to know why and how it happened and none of his sources seems to be satisfying. Something that's unconceivable, unbearable, utter nonsense!
If knowledge won't come to him, then he will go to knowledge and will make sure to establish once again who's in command.
Soon, a huge structure happeared into the landscape, voices spread and, obviously, reached to him.
Up into his tower, his lost, lonesome, place of all wisdoms, his eyes squinted while a grim smile cracked his ageless face, that was his chance!
While the sinister, bodyless whispers that informed him faded into the howling wind, he looked out of the window... a new adventure begins,!
May whoever will be of hindrance to his quest tremble in fear, because his gaze is set, his fingers are closing, and his grasp won't ever oper again.
Race: elf Py'rai
Class: rouge/ranger
Gender male
Has an affinity of nature
Prefers outlands over cities, spends most of his time exploring. Not afraid to fight but prefers to choose his battles. Can be a bit caotic at times.
Back story: under development
Name: DraugShade
Archetype: Cleric
Race: Vaelune
Schooled in the arts of bookkeeping, raised in the markets of trade, heir to the wealthiest merchant family and expected to assume the role as family tycoon. Given the opportunity to be under watchful eye of my father or an new exciting world, it wasn't much of a decision, I left with haste.
It had always pained me to see how, as my uncle would put it, the "livestock" were treated, especially the children. In this new world I vowed to use what knowledge I could to heal and help any who deserved it, friend or sometimes, even foe. I set forth to provide aid and assistance without expecting anything in return.
Name: Ledge or Carn - Ledge is my RP staple. Carn depending on how Archtype work
Archtype: Ranger/Cleric - Melee based, Maybe a Support but not straight healer?
Race: Vek - Probably, Depending on the asthetics of Vek vs Ren'kai
We were pushed out - Pushed out by the corruption of our lands. Not just the energy that flows, but by the minds of people. I once swore solely to [The God of Nature? Druidic Way? Shamanic Way?]. Now I understand. Corruption is within everyone, including myself and to maintain harmony you must keep balance of both. Follow the stars, let the natural lights show you the way through the darkness.
I have this hope that controlling corruption is a thing. That Clerics can be Positive or Negative clerics. Maybe that's a stretch. But a Shaman/Druid of balance who understands Corruption is part of the natural order is the direction I see myself going. Melee nature Warden for sure either way though.
Race: Py'Rai
Class: Rogue/Rogue(or Rogue/Ranger)
Gender: Female
Orphaned as a small child, Mahou was raised by the Vaelune Merchant named "Mauve". Who caught the kid trying to steal food from his caravan while they were setting up camp outside the village of Prukai, because as we all know, kids got to eat. Mauve was an intelligent and well-traveled old geezer, he had been all over the world, seen all wonders of this curious world. Selling everything from ingredients to the finest Vek-Armors.
Mauve made sure to train her with all the knives, sword, maces, axes and bows that he had in his possession, along their journeys together. Which made Mahou to become quite the skilled fighter at a young age.
On Mahous' 16th birthday, they had arrived to a small village on the outskirts of the city of Laen, while they were eating supper in the towns small inn, discussing what prices they needed for the merchants to the up-coming market, the four men that had been sitting in the middle of the room got out of their chairs with drawn swords.
The battle was quick, Mauve had killed the four men in self-defense. But he fell to the ground, he had a wound on the side of his stomach. Knowing he wasn't gonna live long after the battle, he told Mahou, "Run and don't look back."
Mahou who was medium long for a Py'rai, have silver-grey shoulder-long hair and easy on the eyes, have not been seen since that day.
There are rumours that she had joined some organization that dwell in the Shadows... but no one knows for sure what happened to that beautiful creature so many years ago.
This is what I've come up with in an hour, waking up and couldnt sleep.
"He was the most savage fuccboi out there"