Ode to Arrelion

He was once a young man, like the elder in the past

He had a brother but not kin who was by his side

They trained with the Magi and they learned fast

The first elf of the lands was their elder and guide

Mateo the older, Arrelion the younger

This Magi was an aether that would change their world

For their thirst was unquenchable and they had a hunger

Together these men had a plan that would soon unfurl

For the power was too immense for these young, impressible ones

And their teacher saw a corruption that he could not quell

For despite the danger to come, he could not harm his foster sons

Arrelion’s power and Mateo’s drive broke free of their shell

The wards placed by their elder shook, splintered, and shattered

The Magi was now theirs to do as they pleased

The boys were now men and the power they had mastered

But as for their bodies, the magic had seized

“Draak’Terra is ripe for the taking,” Mateo smiled

“Well spread the Magi to those that we choose,” Arrelion agreed

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“Our mages will rule from the cities to the wild”

“And a new dawn we shall breed”

A council was formed and reached across the land like the shadow of a tower

And with it the Arcana War was born from its fire

The mages were ruthless only matched by their unfathomable power

This war had no glory, only brutality and ire

However, despite the near victory, Arrelion was heavy with sadness

He had slaughtered thousands and with each blow felt their pain

Arrelion knew his actions were of a false heart and were built on pure madness

The brand burned into their lives would leave nothing but a stain

Arrelion needed to rise and bring retribution to the people that he once sought to end

Taking his spell sword strapped across his back he sided with his new allies

And led battle after battle against Mateo, his lifelong friend

Now the final conflict was here under the war torn skies

And Arrelion and Mateo clashed severing their chain that was once sound

The world was free from the tyranny of the council and mages

Mateo vanished from history, neither dead nor found

Together the people forged a new council to train young ones through the ages

For his turn against Mateo, Arrelion would be celebrated a hero and legend

But in his soul his own legacy would forever be questioned

Wings Like Ash: The Hands of Alanna

As their name would suggest, the Hands of Alanna are servants to the Goddess of Death. All creatures have a soul, and while in life your soul belongs to you, in death, all souls are Alanna’s. After death, souls are supposed to pass into the Roaming Plane and take their place in her realm, but there are those who cling to the Mortal Plane, and it is the Hand of Alanna’s duty to send wandering souls to the Roaming Plane where they belong. Armed with an ethereal bow, the Hand of Alanna traverses Draak’Terra searching for lost souls to reap.

When your fallen spirit lingers

No longer safe and tethered

To keep away from the Night’s fingers

Bow in hand and ashy wings feathered

Her servants descend to reap your soul

Ending your torment and pain

The fear of your final moment, the toll

And then they will flock back to the Roaming Plane