Ataxius Pyrodeath The Les'drearti
"The sky was dark, the fire arose, and it was all over as soon as it started. Les'drearti, the once, no, our once powerful town was swallowed whole. Few survived. It was a proud day for Zelia, and a dark one for us." ~ One of few quotes captured from Lord Reslorian Les'drearti.
Reslorian was born to the town of Ta' Nalfien (If Wehnimer's Landing was about at this time, Ta' Nalfien would be far east of it). From an early age Reslorian showed great promise to his people as being an influential leader. As he grew, he excelled in politics, was the finest merchant in the lands, and was renowned throughout the entire Elven Empire. Reslorian had made his riches at the mere age of 22, and was the center of elven politics. He had taken a narcissistic liking of himself and decided that he could do anything he wanted, not much concerned him otherwise. He had a particular disinterest in the Arkati, which were the gods the people worshipped. At times Reslorian went out of his way to disgrace the name of one or more of the Arkati.
This disliking towards the Arkati heightened when his father died… for he blamed them all. He was a man of power, and had commanded blasphemous acts. His lust for revenge caused many a temple to be burned. This angered many gods and he was seen as a threat too many. Soon after these horrid acts a flesh-eating plague that started with the eyes, leaving nothing but hauntingly empty sockets. The victims' death screams were heard all about the city as deformed bodies would writhe amongst the filth and rubish of the streets in the town of Ta' Ardenai. It had quickly spread and thousands were dying. All eyes turned to Reslorian as the catalyst for this plague. The blame was forced upon him, and he was banished from the Elven Nations. He had a few devoted followers that had refused to watch their leader leave the Nations, and they had left with him.
Rumor had it that the plague wasn't from the pantheons of Liabo or Lornon, but of Neutrality. This puzzled many and the rumor was seen as being silly. Reslorian had learned of this rumor before his banishment. The rumor was dismayed by many. But one thing was for certain, that when Reslorian was gone, the plague was lifted. Reslorian cursed the Elven Nations. He had left to travel west, where he was going to start a new town. It was to be a town, a trading post of sorts. He believed he could regain his riches and power through this town.
On his pilgrimage west, his group came across a remote inn. This sparked his interest and they went in. It was completely abandoned. They figured it was getting dark out, and it was a good place to stay. Something in the inn just wasn't right. It wasn't right for an inn to be in the middle of the nowhere unless there was a town near, which he knew there wasn't. All the beds were made, the ale was fresh, and it was just as if someone was keeping the place up. Then there was the smell. It didn't smell like they were in a forest surrounded by lush shrubbery and trees, but the air had more of a stinging scent that reminded him of a graveyard. He put this aside thinking he was just being silly, and his band of 20 or so had settled down for the night.
Later that night, when it was dark and everyone was asleep, Reslorian had woke up. He thought he heard light steps above him in a room. No one had gone to sleep in any of the upper level rooms that he could remember. He decided to check it out and see what was up there. As he was going up the steps, he started to notice the silence, and it stunned him. No wind, no crickets, nothing. Then he heard a mysterious whistling from the room down the hall. He decided to see who it was and tentatively walked down the hallway. Just as he approached the door, the whistling had turned to a humming. He took a nervous glance behind him, and was surprised at his distance. What looked to be 11 or more doors behind him, had seemed like 6 or less while he was walking. This entire inn was beginning to test his sanity level. He focused his attention back to the room and the humming. "Is there a soul in there?" This had stopped the humming. Then in a seductive voice, a lady ever so quietly invited him into the room. He opened the door and saw a figure through the darkness, calmly sitting on the bed. The figure was clearly female, which nearly angered him. How could a female be out here alone, and have either snuck past his men, or tends the inn and didn't come to serve them? It had then said "Come closer my dear, I have a surprise for you." The floor creaked as he came closer. "Don't be shy," she had said. Just as he touched the hood she stood up. "I'm here to give you a message," she said as she started to pull back the hood. "When you have accomplished all your dreams, they will be destroyed. Zelia is very displeased with you." Upon the mentioning of one of the Arkati, anger surged through Reslorian and threw a punch at the lady. When he connected, the cloak went limp and it fell onto his hand. He held up the empty cloak and examined it. All of the sudden he started hearing people in the room conversing. No one knows what was said in the room, or afterwards. He was a changed man. He all of the sudden seemed to have a liveliness to him.
What was once known as a forbidden subject to be spoken of was now a common one. The Arkati was spoke of often. He seemed to be a very pleasant person, a side of him never seen before. He no longer was selfish, but cared very much for others. He decided to continue their pilgrimage west. His ambitions were renewed. He was fully determined to start the town. The town of Les'drearti, named after him and his forefathers before him.
30 years later…
"The town was a cross between a paradise resort and a trading post. The ale and whiskey were great. Good place to take the family… a heck of a lot better than that hell hole of Ta' Ardenai I have to return too." ~ An elven traveler on his way out of Les'Drearti.
Reslorian had done everything he had said, made his riches, and was running his own town. He had named the town after himself and no one seemed to mind. Business had boomed in the town of Les'drearti due to the increasing interest of what lies to the west. In a way it was a trading post, since every traveler had stopped by and restocked their supplies. Many different cultures came through, from Giantmen to elves. Thus, the diversity was great and everyone had a really open mind. The crime rates were incredibly low, nearly ousting the constable out of his job. No one discriminated against each other. An elf and a human could be friends here. What may have lent to this were the astounding surroundings of the town. How can you hate your neighbor when you're in a secluded residence next to a waterfall or trees? In fact, the town had grown so large that one man alone could not run it.
For this reason, Reslorian made up his council. There never was a set number, but originally their purpose was to handle business matters within the town. But this soon evolved into a council which built great libraries of astounding knowledge and enormous temples devoted to the worship of different Arkati. Though many travelers knew of the riches and sights that Les'drearti gloated, very few people knew anything of the council who ran it. They kept to themselves most of the time. It wasn't even known how many people were in it, though the public knew there wasn't many. When one ventured out in public, they were highly respected and had a divine-like aspect to them. They were always distinguished, fore they each wore an amulet around their necks made of a clear blue gem which came from a place up north. It was always assumed that they had obtained these gems through trading with people up north, though at the time no one knew for sure.
Word of Les'drearti quickly spread throughout the Elven Empire. When the town of Ta' Nalfein had heard that their own Reslorian Les'drearti had struck it big in the west, there were mixed feelings of pride and hatred. After what this man had done to the Elven Empire, it was seen as an insult to everything that the Elven Empire had stood for. It had took the Empire so long to get to where they were today and then a man who had done everything from destroy their temples to curse them with plagues held a town of his own. The town of Ta' Vaalor was so outraged by this they end decided to send an army and destroy what this man had created.
This is a mistake costing many lives of the Elven Empire. When the army was approximately 20 miles away from Les'drearti, the sky had opened up and turned black as meteors rained from the sky. Hundreds of elves were killed. Once word reached Ta' Vaalor, they accused the Les'drearti of having powerful magic that they haven't seen before. The Les'drearti was considered a force that outweighed that of the Elven Empire. The Elven Empire regretted it's actions and decided since the Les'drearti and not once made an attempt to attack the Elven Empire, they would let the Les'drearti be.
No one opposed Reslorian and the Les'drearti. Those who came didn't want to leave they were so overcome by it's beauty, others tried to rebel against the Elven Empire for its decision to destroy the place (despite none succeeded.) Reslorian had everything he ever needed or ever wanted. He was told that nothing stood in his way anymore. He had left his past of hate and war behind. But one thing never left his mind. That one thing was to be the one thing that could would destroy everything he had. That one thing would one day come.
5 years later…
"The lady came. She was cloaked in black, but had a holy appearance to her. She was different from the rest. We never saw her face. But the weirdest thing was that the kids were scared of her. I just watched her walk down the street one day by a group and as she did they just stopped what they were doing and seemed to be frozen with fear… despite she never acknowledged them. She lives in that apartment right over there." ~ A long-time resident of Les'drearti speaking of the one who brought the reign of terror to Les'drearti.
One night, Reslorian was asleep in his bed when all of the sudden someone rushed into the room. "Reslorian! The council has called an emergency meeting and your presence is needed!" shouted a dwarven servant. Reslorian threw a robe on and went to the house where the council held meetings regularly, which was House Drei'lor. Once Reslorian arrived, the sight before him was appalling. He was able to make out eight different bodies, all of which were council members, strewn about the room in a certain blood bath. A man which he recognized to be one of the guards of the house came towards him trembling saying that all he knows was that a lady cloaked in black had begun to walk in the house and when he went to stop her he just passed out. He had no idea what happened. Reslorian felt a draft pass over him when he was told this, as if in the back of his mind he knew exactly what happened yet he didn't know what. That's when he remembered the prophecy of the lady in the inn, which he prayed would stay only a prophecy.
Most of his council was now dead. The town's destiny was in question. Reslorian didn't know what to do. So he decided to take a walk through town that same night. The feeling of being watched stayed with him the whole time. He decided to go back to his house when the sun arose. Yet, something didn't seem right. He kept on walking around town, and he saw people starting to wake up. It seemed like that the sun should have risen long ago, and he wasn't the only one to have thought this. People were awake as if it was morning and walking around. He stopped one person on the street. The elven girl was stunned to be stopped by a man of such power, since Reslorian kept to himself most of the time despite being well known. He asked her what the time was, and she said that the sun was to have been up over an hour ago. He nodded and decided to proceed to his house.
As he approached his front door, he felt extremely uncomfortable, for his door was locked. He had left the house in such a frenzy that there wasn't any way that he would have locked it. That was when he felt breathing on the back of his neck. He flew around in a flurry and withdrew his falchion, only to find nothing. He then heard a lady giggling in the trees near his house. He started to walk towards the trees. All of the sudden he ran into someone which appeared to pop up out of the darkness from out of nowheres. "Who in the hell are you?" he demanded of the figure which he deducted was the lady who was giggling.
"Now, that is no way to talk to an old friend," said the lady as she pulled the hood off of her head revealing her face. She seemed like a young lady, and beautiful at that, but her eyes seemed to be non-existent. "Don't you remember me? I'm the one that spoke to you in the inn. I'm the prophet, and I'm guessing you remember a name that was spoke to you that night. Zelia perhaps? Well, rest assured, I am here. I am here to fulfill my prophecy. You will tremble at my name."
Reslorian stood in a horrified trance, not knowing what to do or say. The lady seemed to disappear back into the darkness as quickly as she came. Reslorian ran back to his house and his front door opened right up as if it was never locked. He thought he was going crazy. He had done everything to postpone the prophecy, and he figured it would never be fulfilled. He wasn't sure of anything anymore and didn't know what he could do. It was unraveling right before his eyes, everything Zelia had told him that night. All he could do was cry when he saw the sun appear over the horizon.
He ran out to town in an attempt to evacuate the town. He was the only one who knows of the carnage about to occur. He ran into the middle of the street and started to yell, but nothing came out of his mouth as if he was silenced. Quite a crowd started to gather around him as they were quite intrigued by their leader throwing a fit in the middle of the streets and making no sound. Reslorian knew what was going to happen at any time now. He had to save whom he could. So he made hand gestures towards the group of 10 people or so to follow him to the hills. Just as this happened laughter erupted throughout the town. Reslorian had made it to the hills with his small band of people and he looked back down at the town of Les'Drearti. The sky seemed to fill with ash as everything went into a cold darkness. Up in the hills he had then viewed the destruction of everything he had worked for. A tidal wave of fire seemed to come over the horizon and headed towards the town. It was an awesome display of magic and power, and a feared one. Les'dreati was consumed in the wall of fire. Then, just as water would, the fire ebbed back to where it may have come from, wherever it may have been. All the was left was the darkness, the ruins of the town which was nothing more than various burning shapes, and the knowledge of what was once a paradise had been destroyed within few hours along with over a thousand lives all at once.
Reslorian looked at the people who were with him. Among them were 2 other members of the council and a few other citizens. They knew what they had to do. There was nothing left of Les'Drearti. They headed back towards the Elven Empire.
Few of those died on the way back. Few died when they arrived back at the Empire. Fact was that every one of those survivors had lost their minds after witnessing such destruction. It wasn't known which of the towns Reslorian had returned to, but it was believed that Ta' Illistim was to be his new place of residence where he kept a low profile and no one knew of his presence. The only evidence of this is when a thief broke into his house only to find the skeleton of Reslorian and a book lying next to him, which read The Feracho on the front of it. The thief had opened up the book and read the final sentences.
"Zelia had took all from us. Les'Drearti is now gone. One day, there will be one who will come back and complete my work."
Les'dreati was all but forgotten. Zelia casted a spell and knowledge of the town was vanquished from every Elanthian's memory. The only remnants of the town are what are in the book and the one which will come one day and bring back the council of Les'Drearti.
Lord Ataxius Pyrodeath was born to Lord Golm Hobbitt and Anjell Aginard in the town of Wehnimer's Landing. The young boy had took a liking to the magical arts much to the disliking of his roguish father. Despite his disliking for magic, Golm had taken his soon to see the gypsy running around town one day. He had decided to see what the gypsy had to say about his young boy. The words spoken between the two were unknown to young Ataxius except that both of them had an expression of shock as they flipped over her cards and such. Golm had rushed young Ataxius home to his wife Anjell and he had just broke down and cried on her shoulder.
A year later, Ataxius was sent to a school where he would learn much of what he knows today. Early on, he was taught all about language skills, where he became multi-lingual in many tongues. He was very interested in sciences and the way things worked. He was seen as an over-acheiver and was asked what he would like to be when he grew up. Young Ataxius had said with delight that he wanted to grow up and be a powerful enchanter. Of course, this was unheard of. Many people who had decided to follow a wizard's path had known to die early, and tis was a truly dangerous path to go. However, Ataxius wasn't one to let others tell him what he should do or let them mock him for it. Then at the age of 7, he had become a page of the alchemist.
The alchemist had taught young Ataxius a lot about the wizard profession, but wouldn't even think about letting him touch a wand let alone teach him any spells. Ataxius was told that one day he will be able to use those, but not anytime soon. Then before Ataxius had known it, many years later, Ataxius had been taught everything he had needed to know, and was released to go back to his parents.
What he returned to wasn't what he had left behind. He remembered his parents as being great people to look up to. What he had found was that his mother had killed herself and his father was nothing more than a drunken sword-happy filcher. Ataxius was forced to live with his father for 2 more years until the constable caught up with him. At the age of 23, Ataxius was alone. He had decided to go make a name for himself and decided to take those things he had learned of wizardy and start training as one.
At the age of 44, Ataxius had become Lord Ataxius. Up until now, the gypsy had avoided Ataxius like a plague. Now when he had stepped outside of the inn, there was the gypsy, waiting for him. She had informed him that he is not Ataxius, but the descendant of Lord Reslorian. Now of course, this had meant nothing to Ataxius. What would he care about his great great grandfather or whatever it was, it made no difference to him. He was about to shove the gypsy aside just before she made one final comment… "You are the chosen one. You must contact Zelia, but she will likely seek you."
Lord Ataxius had decided to ignore the gypsy, despite in the back of his mind her words had stuck with him wherever he went. Those words had stuck with him until the day he was 60 years old. That was when he started to hear voices. The voices started as a low whisper, and they all just kind of blurred together in one droning sound. Eventually, they were getting louder and clearer. That was when Ataxius started hallucinating. He was a great, majestic town which seemed like a paradise at first. Then he noticed a plague hit it. No one in the town seemed to notice it, but yet nearly everyone was infected with it. All of the sudden he watched the town's destruction. These images played through his head many times. Ataxius was losing his sanity.
Then one day it all became clear. One day, everything that had made him mad had made him see everything like it was meant to be. One day, he was on Hearthstone's steps on his knees. His empath friend, Netania, was by his side. She had watched him go through all the pain and the complete transformation of him. He was yelling things at everyone, warning them not to get near or he'd kill them. That was when Netania had gone to rub his shoulder to try to calm him down. He had turned around and killed her on the spot. Grossed out by what he had just done to his long-time friend, he had run off. No one had seen him for the next couple days.
When he had returned, there was great opposition meeting him, since he had killed a female empath. He had pulled Netania aside and decided to speak to her. When she came back, she had just told everyone mad at him to go away. Since then, Lord Ataxius has been on a quest for the "ultimate power". A book which would give it to him. He also had taken a liking towards the goddess Zelia. No one knows what he told Netania that day, nor the knowledge that he possesses. To this day he remains with his goals, and he won't let anyone stand in his way.