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Okay, so it's been a while, and I apologise, but I've been very busy as of late with university and general life related stuff. Here lies the end of that. I intend to commit more to this blog, because I have a lot of ideas flowing around in this noggin of mine, and I need to get them down somewhere... Yeah, yeah. I know, I've said all this before. We'll just see how it goes this time. No preamble for this one, just an idea that's been floating around for a few days that I want to play around with, so here goes. Just an intro for now, a setup if you will:


Throughout history, it is and has been, and no doubt shall always be the quest for power that has driven society. Power, at its basest of concepts, is the ability to break the constraints of the established reality and make changes to the paradigms of the world, for better or for worse. There was a time, in ancient history, where power resided with the Old Gods of the planet Ethran: The Hidden Twelve.
The Twelve's names have long since been forgotten by the people of Ethran, and their traditions have been cast aside by all but a select few who still try to maintain the old ways. This came to pass when new forms of power began to emerge.

Wise men from the southern kingdoms of Ethran came with knowledge of energies they claimed to be even older than the Twelve. They called this knowledge 'Arkanik', and they demonstrated it in a great many ways. They arrived on sailless ships of glistening gold and brass, with crackling orbs of blue light at their base. They carried crossbows without arms or string, and called them 'Arkuebusses'; and they too glowed with the blue arkanik energies. The people of Ethran had found a new source of power for them to follow - a new idol to worship. The men of the southern kingdoms became as gods among the rest of their Ethranite brethren. This displeased the Twelve.

Years passed and became decades. The travellers of the southern kingdoms had taken the title of 'Ark Wardens' and claimed rulership over Ethran and the Twelve grew more and more angry with each passing year as their traditions and their ways dwindled even more. They decided that they had seen enough and agreed to settle matters. They each chose a candidate from their remaining followers and bestowed a portion of their power into the 'Chosen'. Each Chosen manifested a different ability associated with which of the Twelve granted them their gift, and each gift manifested within a different part of each Chosen's body.

Time continued to pass, and the Chosen travelled across the world of Ethran, trying to restore the old ways and the belief in the Twelve in any way they could, all the while trying to avoid or in some cases engage the Cult of the Arkane, as it had come to be known. Though, the Twelve are a fickle pantheon. Any veneer of unity or seeming bond between them was destined only to be short lived. Rivalries began to form within the ancient halls of the Elder Plane where the Twelve reside, seperate from Ethran. They began to bicker and quarrel over who's Chosen was the strongest, or the most worthy to lead the revolution on Ethran and take command of their new church when the day of absolution came.

This brought about the 'Challenge of the Twelve'; a ruling set down by the Twelve, where their chosen are destined to, should ever they cross paths, they are to do battle. Should a Chosen fall, their power will return to the Twelve that bestowed it. Once the final Chosen has been decided, the Twelve will bestow a portion of their power upon this single Chosen, elevating them to their ranks to become the Thirteenth Lord.

This is where our story begins; a tale of gods, of magics and of heritage. This is a tale of pride, of valour, of good and of evil.

This is the tale of the Twelve Chosen.


And it's now very late, so g'night all,
God bless.
Craiggy.

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