Imperial Rise
Imperial Rise | |
---|---|
Creator | Xero |
Information | |
Main Leader(s) | WIP |
Races | Any Human Dwarf Senkh |
Base of Operations | WIP |
Planet | Imperia |
Status | Active |
The Imperial Rise (Also known as the Imperial Legion; The Imperial Army; or the Holy Army) is a reserved yet influential faction of holy warriors who have sworn to protect Imperia from evil. The Imperial Rise was founded by three heroes - Pharaoh Neferseshem Seshen-Heru, Lady Ghadira and Lord Aerthur Calibur.
Pharaoh Neferseshem, Ruler of the New Age
Known by many as the first Paladin of the New Age, Neferseshem Seshen-Heru walked the desolate lands of Livanin as a champion of his scattered kin. Wielding devotion in his heart and a blade in his hand, He ventured to a faraway mountain to seek the blessing of the Lion God so that his people could regain their lost wealth, a prophecy told only in whispers that spoke of a blade bathed in divine light that proclaimed its wielder a king. Neferseshem's journey would bring him to the Lion God's Lair - Ah-Maahes. Little did the young Senkh know that Ah-Maahes' defeat would prove to be out of reach that day as Neferseshem would be quickly brought down and to the mercy of his foe. Even as he knelt ready to face death, he had his hand to his chest and his eyes narrowing down the gaze of the God before him, holding strong his spirit and uttering the praise of his kin. "Even if I were to fall, my people will always stand resolute. Through the test of time that we are put through, we will stand glorious... maybe not know, but one day. It is... inevitable." He spoke not in disrespect towards Ah-Maahes but in emboldening pride onto himself as he reassured that the Senkh will thrive, with or without him.
Ah-Maahes would not grant the man his death that day, instead he would lower his head in respect to the young warrior and drop his holy weapon, Ah-Ra-Ka, Blade of the Sun's Fury. Bewildered by his decision but honoured nonetheless, Neferseshem picked up Ah-Ra-Ka and saluted the God with utmost honour, vowing to raise a mighty kingdom. And did so he did - Neferseshem Seshen-Heru became the first Pharaoh of the new dawn of the Ancient Kingdom of Chronos, an empire that would turn the wastes of Livanin into a flourishing land of trade and knowledge.
For many a century did he rule. For many more did he live. Neferseshem would bear witness to the birth of the first kingdom of Luxford under the founding rule of Vandrash Aspectum Luxford and even met the barbarian king's forces in the battles on the Savage Cliffs. By the edge of Ah-Ra-Ka, Neferseshem dealt blinding justice to the armies that dared step upon his lands to pillage and harass. The Pharaoh was a fierce enemy, but also a kind friend for he made allies with the Shrevir and use their expertise in cliff-climbing and ambush-tactics to gain the upper hand in the war. His power and his influence was so great that it echoed to the ends of the world, to King Vandrash's throne where the tyrannical king felt the cold bite of fear for the first time in his life. Neferseshem, though he had never even met the first king of Luxfordia face to face, defeated the ruler in the war of attrition.
Lady Ghadira of the Frozen Wastes
Lady Ghadira was born during the peak of Mor Alpin's golden age in the 6th century - through a continued joined effort to do battle with the endless swarm of undead besieging them from the north, the people of Mor Alpin were able to live a life of relative peace under the shadow of their fortress walls yet while many began to relinquish their arms to combat in favour of luxury, Lady Ghadira would dedicate herself in the art of combat. Using the crossbow techniques of the Dwarven Vanquisher, Ghadira became a lone wolf that journeyed past the safety of Armdrusian Bulwark to hunt formidable undead monstrosities in the fields of Ischyros, studying them and learning their weaknesses.
Ghadira's hunt would lead her to Arusk'Orun, an ancient and powerful Lich predating the first Luxfordian kingdom. Said to have once been a Dwarf herself, Arusk'Orun now commanded the largest Undead army of Ischyros and plotted an elaborate scheme to spread the curse of his comrades to all of eastern Imperia. Not only would this plan be in the making - it would also be near completion as Arusk'Orun's forces had already amassed under the banner of five formidable Necrolords, powerful Undead Dwarves who channeled their cursed spirits toward their master to grant her power. The Archlich had also come into possession of a powerful weapon that could spell doom for the people of Dun Dui should they remain in place. Ghadira would be shocked of this revelaton and make haste back to Mor Alpin to inform the Thane of this yet upon her arrival her words would be like comedy to those who would hear her, even Thane Toiforan Dul Copperbeard, he who sat upon the golden throne of his great grandfather and founder of the kingdom, would not see a threat foreshadowed in her voice.
"You speak of witchcraft and fairytales young Ghadira, one who has no brand to her name! For centuries we have fought the undead and for centuries longer we shall come out on top! After all, what could ever penetrate the wall of Armdrusian Bulwark? NOTHING! For it is made of the strongest metal around!"
Ridiculed for attempting to stir up chaos and panic, Ghadira became enraged and unsheathed her weapon at her Thane commanding his respect and attention. For this, she would be sentenced to death by starvation beneath the gilded halls of Dun Dui.
Inevitably, the attack upon their kingdom would start with Necrolord Ganrur Bef leading the first charge and Arusk'orun calling upon a force unknown to the Dwarves that caused great necrotic rifts to erupt beneath the earth of Dun Dui and bury most it, breaking in half the ancient fortress said to be indestrucible. In the ensuing chaos, the Dwarves would be scattered and suffer many deaths. Still, those who survived the slaughter fought and the first wave of Arusk'Orun's forces were defeated yet at the cost of the kingdom's most precious defences and numbers. In the aftermath of the attack many royals of Toiforan's council rebelled to seek out Ghadira within her prison cell awaiting her death sentence only to find her cell devoid of life.
Unknown to her kingdom, Ghadira had used the chaos to escape her confinement and lead a personal charge against the Undead forces. Using the crossbow of her father, Gref, and bolts made from purified metals, Ghadira would hunt down Ganrur Bef during the siege and kill him in a single shot through his chest cavity, ensuring that the attack on Dun Dui would not continue. Rather than return home, Ghadira continued inwards into the frozen wastes to hunt the remaining four Necrolords and end their rituals to empower Arusk'Orun.
Lord Aerthur Calibur, The Blessed One
A master weaponsmith and a warrior without equal in his time, the legends of Aerthur Calibur were well known during the beginnings of the Holy Monarchy of Luxfordia. While the kingdom was new to the faith of the Church, Aerthur had been a believer for decades prior. A blessed child, some would say, who's tears were that of pure light, he was hidden away from the rest of his people by his lonesome mother. He grew up to live in a shack in a forest of the Triones Fractures, living off the land and sea while honing his body and mind with martial prowess. Wishing nothing of the great destiny his birth foretold him, he instead spent his waking hours forging weapons made of the finest steel he could smelt, using an uncovered volcanic vent within a cave near his home to forge greatswords. Yet he felt cursed, for each weapon he crafted had the carvings of the Gods drawn into the blade's length. Frustrated, he would destroy each crafted masterpiece and begin anew, fighting an internal battle against invisible forces at play.
A time would come when Aerthur would fight his last. A hundred and fifty six blades he had shattered in a desperate attempt to deny his purpose. By the hundred and fifty seventh, he seemingly got what he wished for - a blade without light, neither symbol nor sign or the Gods' handiwork. He wished to cry, yet he had no tears, so he picked up the sword purely of his own making and gripped it tight around the hilt. Then, as he pressed his forehead against the flat face of his masterwork, he felt content.
Yet in the weeks that followed his victory over the Gods' design of him, Aerthur sensed uncertainty. When before there was a drive to challenge the creator gods, now there was silence, emptiness. Nothingness. He sat upon his chair overlooking his grove with the sword he had forged in hand and began to wonder: Why?
Why did the Gods wish to leash him so? Why did the Gods fight to brand every weapon he made? Why did the Gods eventually surrender? Why is he now here?
The Founding of Imperial Rise
Religion and Culture