Crimlis | Dar | Drazzahezz | Ehovia | Elis | Faber | Grath | Karamaterra | Lara | Lathra | Magus Council | Primus | Regalis | Tal Hill | Trath | Vorn | Zatay
CRIMLIS
Crimlis is no different, it's inhabitants, isolated to the point of exile, have practically formed a breed of their own. They are the fallen, Crimlis their home. Those sent to the isle of Ilattaerar are the scourge of the Angel race. Criminals, idlers and dreamers all they are looked down upon as those who wish to destroy the Angel hierarchy (occasionally with an element of truth).
The city itself is not as foreboding as the name would imply. At a glance, it would appear as a human city (it's inhabitants forced to walk and carry their partially stripped wings in shame) with only a huge poor district. Void of wealth and kept under Angel jurisdiction only by a single Black wing outpost, Crimlis is a collection of slums, drinking houses and all other manner of vice frowned upon by traditional Angel belief. It is a sprawling mass of housing, at it's core rising up to a great height of ramshackle building-on-building constructions. (Silent Nomad)
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This title is most suiting as Dar's inhabitants are comprised of the roughest, most violent undesirables of the Human race. Criminals, Heretics and brave former politicians inhabit this place, in short, all those who defy the rule of the Magus.
As for the city itself, Dar bears much in common with it's Angel sister Crimlis, a similarity that has led to an indescribable sense of companionship between the two races in this isolate environment. It is ironic that such cruel punishment is capable of breaking down the barrier of mistrust between races. On some rare occasion, the accomplishment of trust between races has been known to develop into the condition known commonly as 'love.' However, such instances are undocumented by the Angels and all half-breeds are burnt as a matter of racial honour by the Black Wing. Though it should be noted that this opinion is not shared by humans as a whole, and barely shared by the Magus who have long since ceased caring for the welfare and condition of Dar and those inside her.
Dar has no walls as such, it is a sprawling mass of housing, uncontrolled by the design of the Magus. It's suburbs (if you can call them that) stretch for mile upon mile from the city core, some awaking at the earliest of hours to walk to their place of work. As for the core, it is notable more for it's sheer density than it's height. One unaccustomed to it's passageways would either be lost for long enough to be mugged and left for dead, or spend days attempting to leave. (Silent Nomad)
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In the center of the black city lies the College of War, the foremost training grounds for the Black Angels, and one of the greatest military academies on the face of the planet. Yet even though it is one of the best, only Angels are allowed to train there. As such, only fellow angels know the methods and secrets that are passed from commanders to students. Many believe this to be wrong, that all races should be able to train at the best college of war. The Angels, however, do not feel the same. And since they completely control who is able to come into the cities, nobody has been able to lead a successful rebellion to change their minds. (Angel)
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Yet this flawless perfection is not appreciated by all races, the elves foremost believing it to be a heresy against their Lady Vriclar Herself to be so devoid of life. It is in this flawless perfection that the blue-winged angels produce their crafts of granite, jade, bone, ivory, ebony, obsidian, ruby, emerald, diamonds, sapphire, gold, silver, platinum and a thousand other metals and materials for the nobility of Tal'Vorn. (Angel)
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Facing the magical island, and close to the shore, Grath seems like a defiance to magic. A marvellous show of human ability, able to rival magic with the sole ability of intelligence.
Shining in brass, iron and steel, buildings are designed to defy nature and take advantage of its benefits. Genius of craft, the inhabitants of Grath city managed to raise a city of self preserving standards. Not a ray of sun to be wasted, not a gust of wind to flow away freely, not a drop of water passing without generating.
The city is practically devoted to transformation and their habitants are ever working, busy as bees and countless, like ants. In Grath, machines do not free men. People multiply around them and take care of them just as worshippers of a metal god.
All the buildings are related to each other in search for efficiency. And if someone watches the city from the air, will see something very similar to clockwork. Fumes and vapours come out of millions of turrets, like incense to praise industrial life. So even the sky is created by their work, as the city is covered in a thick grey fog, and air is full of bitter odours.
Amazing, though, is the no-man�s land that surrounds Grath. Outside those luxuriant metal walls but still under the heavy fog that not even the blessed winds of the sea carry away, there is a colony of destitute. Men that have no use for the unstoppable industry and managed to get away from the law that considers all expendable life as fertilizer. They roam among the detritus of the city, trying to survive among waste. Still even they have a use for the city, as an example against indolence. (AliDheren)
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Several attempts to find the city by easier means have gone by without success. It has become known just how intertwined it�s buildings are with the forest. It�s greatest skyscrapers are simply the tallest trees, flying overhead all that is visible is the canopy, similar to the thousands of square miles elsewhere in the forest.
The Lar'K'Leth reside here as a matter of safety, their numbers slowly, slowly dwindling away. Due to this status as a dying race their treatment of aliens is surpassed in brutality only by the Pravaii. The Lar'K'Leth have no use for torture, if you draw near their home, you are certain to receive an arrow to the eye without ever catching scent, let alone sight of the most alluring race on Tal�Vorn. (Silent Nomad)
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It could be considered ironic then, that this uninhabitable environment harbours the last Stronghold of the Human race. The Magus Council was constructed by those who knew what many still deny. Sooner or later, the human race will come under threat of extinction. With this in mind, the Magus Council is the most fortified point of human habitation on Tal�Vorn.
From overhead very little of the fortress itself is visible. What is visible makes for a daunting site to any visitor. Two towers, carved out of the cliff face in polished, black rock rise up to over two hundred feet. These towers, though usually more or less empty, darkness peers out of window slits at intervals up the base, culminating in a fully roofed bunker. Heavily armoured by rock, these rooms, in times of need, are filled with all manner of devices, from boiling oil to the most powerful ballista and of course, members of the most powerful of the Magus bolstering defences. But for now, these rooms remain silent, slowly gathering dust until the time comes when they will be needed.
As for the rest of the fortress, a large part is dedicated to the necessities to take a mass influx of mankind�s� populous into the fortress. Huge mess halls, reservoirs and dormitories buried deep underground. For now, like the two towers, they lie silent, waiting. The centrepiece of the entire structure lies buried nearly a mile underground. A great amphitheatre, housing thousands of spectators (most notably the twelve Lords/Ladies of the Magus Council and the Lord Fighter in raised seats). It is here that annually the Magus Council come together to decide the Lord Magus of the coming year, by a great duel known as the Trials of Power.
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This, self-imposed ignorance would prove their undoing. On this southern tip the humans made their home, a city which, through their own ignorance was named, �Primus.� (First)
To understand the terrible fate of Primus it must be understood how the humans came to Tal Vorn. The human colonization was intentional, it�s original purpose however is unknown. The �Rain of Fire,� refers to the disastrous result of a minute miscalculation in landing trajectory. In short, the vast majority of the human fleet deflected of the upper atmosphere of the planet, their ships damaged beyond repair, and drifted into space, lost forever. Those that survived entry, most crashed in to the surrounding ocean. In short, from the rough billion intended to colonise the planet, less then a million survived landing.
Those that did wasted little time in mourning, with the hope of a new and fruitful life firmly embedded in their hearts they set about constructing Primus. The city was built using technology unfathomable by the native races to this day, commonly known as �High Technology.� The humans, aware of the native wildlife, encircled their new home in formidable defences. Great walls linked to Energy shield generators, Ion cannon emplacements and numerous innovative defences satiated their thirst for total security.
However the Humans remained ignorant of the presence of native intelligent life. A scout party, sent to search out a site for a second city, stumbled across a group of Dragon Lords mid-celebration. The sight of the drunken, copulating, feasting creatures struck new fear in the Humans, the fear of an intellect, a force, greater then their own. The Human soul, plagued by many demons, at a time of great need reverts to one master, instinct. This simple collection of responses and reactions, as old as the race itself, is the last refuge of the Human soul. Instinct has simple facets, all keyed for nothing greater then self-preservation, fear being the greatest of all.
It was to here that the Human souls retreated, in their fear they performed the one, doom-ridden act keyed to keep them alive, a sad irony. They opened fire. All but one of the Dragon Lords were slain and the scouts, terrified as much by their own actions as anything else retreated with all haste.
The resulting war, in which the DragonLords called all native races to them as allies, left Primus destroyed but at a terrible cost. All trace of High Technology was buried or obliterated and immense loss of life on both sides left the city a soaking mess of rubble and blood-drenched mud. Nothing resides there now. The humans, those few granted mercy by the Elder Races, were scattered to three harsh climates where they settled, stripped of their technology. As for the DragonLords, this conflict spelt the beginning of the end for their race, their numbers slowly dwindling ever since. They are nearing the genetic point of no return as the years pass. The Merman, Anvar and Dwarves especially suffered and have since ceased to be the dominating powers they once were.
As for Primus, Ilars became known as �The Isle of the Dead.� The truly vast traffic of souls leaving the area attracted some of the greatest Demons inhabiting the planet. The city, what�s left of it, drenched in the blood of the fallen, still harbours High Technology left behind, for all those fool enough to seek it. (Silent Nomad)
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Fortunately, the weather systems that create the storms are largely created between the two land masses, to their south and almost equal distance between the two, lie the semi-isolate Arrow-head Isles. A collection of small tropical islands surrounded by shallow reefs and little deep water give the Isles two great attractions. The fish and the view.
Consequently, the largest Island harbours the unusual city of Trath. Unusual as it�s populace are comprised almost exclusively of two sorts, Nobles and Fishermen. What is most incredible is the apparent lack of mistrust between the two, apparently the taste of paradise in a harsh world softens the soul. There is no dividing wall between the mansions of the rich and the humble houses of the poor, they co-exist with a degree of companionship. The rich provide the funds needed to trade with the outside world and in return the fishermen provide an almost unlimited source of food (and exotic food at that).
Trath is a pinnacle of co-existence between traditionally separate classes, it is isolated from the majority of Tal Vorn, accessible only by Jump Gate. Though under rule by the Magus as all the human cities are, the richest of the inhabitants are careful to keep the city�s freedom protected and so no armed guard or Magus presence keeps too close an eye on Trath, much to the content of her citizens. (Silent Nomad)
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Every doorway save those of residences is sized large enough for the mighty Anvar to easily pass through, and surrounding the centre of the city is a large shrine to each of the gods. Each temple is quite lavish, no expense spared in creating an environment that is soothing to every race and religion that visits. But even more than that fact is the incredible variety of foods available for purchase. Each race is accommodated with great amounts of anything they wish from fruit to meat to produce and the like. The city's appearance is also welcoming, a pleasant mix between mechanical precision and natural beauty. It truly is deserving of its title, the "City of Welcome." (Angel)
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© Joshua Binks (Paladin), Christopher Riley (Carnage), Brad Rumsey (Lithium), Alicia Rumsey (Escapist) and Vanessa Vaughan (Andanin) 2002 -