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Areas of Influence: Eternity |
Thera has been for as long as many can remember. Its past is the past of any who know it, for they know nothing else. You inhabitants of this land believe yourself superior in all ways, because indeed, are you not the center of the universe, the very reason everything is?
Fools.
Fools indeed, of a fledgling place where your eyes are still blind, your power is still weak, and your bodies still are bound by mortal restraints. You do, however, seem to have the ability to learn and retain needed information...if it is forced into your very skulls. Your forms, although barely sentient, have their uses, and so I provide this chance for you to gain a bit of usefulness, so that your existence might not entirely be wasted.
Then again, perhaps I ask too much of you?. We shall see.
Learn of the True Power, Mortal. Learn of what
has been, and what shall be.
I come from a plane of darkness, power, and demons. Though many denizens
were spawned in this darkness, one race was seen to stand above them
all... those known as the Ageless Wyrm, the Dragon. Five colors of dragon
existed
in this timeless plane, those colors which are thought of to this very
day, however different from the Old Blood, the current dragons may be.
The dragons ruled this plane for some time, how long cannot be said,
for time is meaningless to those that ignore it, to those that do not
die...to the eternal. Time is but a mortal concept, a restriction imposed
upon themselves. Only the weak fall victim to such foolish ideas, yet
this weakness indeed runs rampant. The birth of a dragon was a rare
and grand event, second in rareness only to the destruction of a dragon.
For a true dragon of old does not die of age, being above this foolish
concept...a true dragon of old must be destroyed, an act of near impossibility.
Though few, the dragons ruled for 'ages' over the weak of this lower
plane, the demons. The greater demons known as Balor and the lesser,
the Tan'ari, both fell under this fiery domain of brimstone, referred
to as 'hell' by those who can find no other explanation to suit there
egotistical minds. Every dragon fell into the authority of their singular
clan, the clans base bloodline, each clan holding only a certain number
of colors within. The colors of the clan are represented on the clan's
egg, distinctively, with each color of a mature dragon having a definitive
breath. Though few, the dragons ruled for ages, but as all things do,
change arose. Out of the darkness the Balor and Tan'ari arose in a singular
force, as never had been before seen. The demons were known to be powerful,
yet eternally weaker than dragons, their breath and
prowess being but a sad parody of their more powerful foes. They had
always
been nomadic, without heed for the others, fighting for themselves,
and themselves alone. The banding seen here was unprecedented, and the
Dragons sought to learn the reason why...learn they did.
As the forces attacked, it was observed that these demons were not alone, not acting out of their own wills and consciousness. The demons had been coerced by a dragon's mortal enemy, the eternal foe: The Avatars of Light. These Avatars originated from the higher planes, always seeking destruction of the strength and power of dragonkind. Their power paled in comparison to the dragon, however, and so they were unable to fight for their goal. Or so it was thought. The corrupted Avatars sacrificed even their petty ideals to make the effort of destroying dragonkind. They sent the demons in as fodder, so that they could make a decisive strike. And so they did. The Avatars took their corrupted abilities against the dragonkind, taking their own lives, and slowly destroying dragons in the process, one at a time. However, as all fools do, they made a critical error, underestimating the power and longevity of a Dragon of Old, a true blood. Their power weakened the heart, mind, and body of a dragon... but left a critical part untouched, the part that gives the dragon true strength, the soul.
Without mortal bodies or minds to contain the soul, however, the dragon was cursed, and cast from this ancient realm, to another place...a place known as Thera. A place very different from what the dragons once knew, a place subject to the whims of time, the addition of strange senses then unknown to dragonkind, and the deprivation of others, vital to the survival of dragons themselves. Senses as vital as sight and touch, senses unknown to this cursed plane of Thera. So the dragons were forced into change upon entering this realm, to assume a cursed and despicable state, the draconian of today. These weak shadows of dragons were subject to mortal whims and sensations, as well as the eternal killer: time. And so these weak shadows reproduced at a vast rate, unknown to dragons of true blood. They changed, died, and were born again. The breath of the draconian is now but a spark of the past. Ages went by, and the past was forgotten in the twisted knots of time. Those banished by the Avatars were forced to Thera with only a vague sense of what they were, and what they should be. Blood mingled with blood, and the strength of the old blood was diluted. The shallowly evolved beings of Thera, barely sentient at this time, attributed the birth and creation of draconians to "a sorcerer's spell gone wrong." Because your mortals here must have an explanation for everything, they created this "fact" to support that tenet of themselves. The fools.
Rules of Worship
Holy Days
