-Historical Lore: Creation [First Draft]-

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

From the hand of Corrine al'Koderkk de Je'sminl Matth'e.

I must admit, I had always been curious about my race, our origins and out place within the empire. My parents had not faught in the cyraxian wars but their parents had. They didn't talk much about it though. It pained them. So the endless questions I had only irritated my parents and made my grandparents favour my quiter brother and sister. So I grew up knowing little but the persecution of our kind. The glories of the Hidden City, the fateful moment Diana had granted our freedom, and how we were created as slaves were only whispers and rumours heard at the crack of doors. As I grew older, the desire to know what had happened remained.

After I met and joined with my mate, I learned from him that the Broodmother herself was still alive, and currently resided in Tearsfall. Excitied I begged him to take me there, to see her one of the first dracons. She could tell me everything I wanted to know. So we both set out, traveling for the small city in the northern part of the Carmelyean province. However, upon reaching the city, we were discouraged to find out she no longer resided there, but at moved to Archadoon, taking the small dracon school to join with the larger one there. I began to wonder if maybe we were chasing a ghost.

However our good fortune remainded. upon reaching Archadoon, we learned the the Broodmother was there and she welcomed any dracon to see her. the night before our meeting, I was frantic with worry, brushing and oiling my scales and my mates to a shine. We had both endured the painful transformation back to our natural form from our human seemings, to greet her as dracons. My mate was highly amused with my nervousness and took great care to calm me down. "She is quite normal really love. It is only her position as one of the first that gives you the jitters." His words did not calm me and I had a fitful nights sleep.

I was fidgeting the entire time the guards lead us to her room at the top of one of the towers. Outside her door, a massive cherry wood door. It must have been twelve feet high at the top point, it stood wide enough to let three dracons walking side by side to enter comfortably. Carved on the rich red wood center was a dragon guarding her eggs, or a dracon. It was hard to tell since it was stylized. It could have been one or the other, or a mixture of both. More guards stood at attention on either side. Dressed in gleaming golden mail fitted for their bodies, there was two Diantars and two Moradens, one of each on each side.

Rich tapestry's of dragons and dracons at play, or working, fighting ad raising families hung on the walls, covering them from ceiling to floor. A set of plush, red velvet chairs and couches designed for dracons littered the room and the entire far wall was a bank of paned glass, some were tined with warm colours, others were merely clear. A roaring fire place was built into one wall, tall enough that my mate could stand in it with only a slight hunch. The only thing missing was the Broodmother herself.

Then as we were waiting in the empty room a curious thing happened. Something soothing settled over our minds, bringing to memory feelings and sensation that tugged at the deeper memories, nameless ones of being held snugly and severely, or warm food and strong arms and love greater than anything in the world. It was all achingly familiar and the presence belonged simply to Mother. Our mother, or someone else's mother, it was simply the thought of Mother.

Than the source of the feelings came into view, stepping gracefully through the door farthest from the pair. She was taller than any normal dracon was, the top of her head reaching towards eight feet tall. She also looked... more wild and dragonish. A row of spines started from her head and worked their way down to the tip of her tail. Other small horns studded her eye ridges, chin and nose. Her claws were longer, and her teeth more prominent, even with her mouth closed and her wings didn't seem to match with her height. And her colouring was gorgeous. Like a sunrise or a sunset. It started with a burnished gold colour on her snout, hands and feet and worked it's way up her body through oranges, reds and finally shaded to a deep purple on the outer most tips of her wings.

My mate bowed, but I feel to my knees before this beautiful creature before she bade me to rise as her equal. "Glaikat child. I and Kanwar teshki welcome you with open arms. Do you know who I am?" Her voice was melodious and wonderfully husky. Not what one would expect coming from a creature such as her. I was entranced with her, as was my mate and could barely talk without stammering. Sensing the effect she had on us, she continued to be a gracious host, offering us seats.

Sinking onto one of the couches shaped like those fainting couches those silly soft skins sometimes used to break one another's hearts, the Brood Mother waited till one of her servants had returned with a bottle of wine and the glasses. Waiting till we were all served, the Broodmother sat near the fire, salamanders of flamelight dancing on her rich scales. Sipping at her goblet slowly, the large draconess eyed me with curiosity. " Why is it you have come all this way to see me." With my eyes lowered, figeting with my dress, which had seemed so fine the previous night, but now seemed like a scrap of garbage compared to this beautiful female.

"Great mother, I wish to learn of our history, our creation and what we are. My family found it too hard to speak of such things, which is why I came seeking you." I was babbling like a fool but she didn't seem to mind. Instead, she leaned back and took a sip of her wine. "Our creation? A most unpleasant tale." She said as if they were discussing the weather. "Which do you wish to hear of first. The dragon or the eggs?" I hesitated a moment before I spoke softly. "The egg."

Alexandra inclined her head briefly and closed her eyes. Gathering her thoughts for a moment, she spoke in a soft voice at first before it grew in power. Her voice was the only sound in the room, besides the crackling of the fire. However, the room soon disappeared in our minds, and we was floating above what looked like Telath. Above the empire in fact, the Khardrans themselves loomed in the vision. Below him, a great army of horrors marched beneath him, destroying everything in their wake, slaughtering citizens by the hundreds.

Village and towns fell to the army in scores, until from the east there was a flash of light and feathers fell around the dracons like snow. The Aelyrians had come, along with their allies. The great army ground to a halt as they began to meet pockets of resistance. Magic flared from many places, blinding the vision away into darkness.

Her presence, like a cool wash of water flowed once more into our minds. "Many fell to the Cyraxian's might, until the demons themselves found them self under attack. Even the mortals they despised could hurt them. They tried to rid themselves of them, but a shred of fear had been placed in the beast's mind. So they appointed one of their own to solve the problem. In short, they needed cannon fodder. Soldiers to take the front lines, while the demon's stayed out of harms way. His name was Cyttoraxis. Our dark father.” There was a pause, before she continued to speak.

"Though father is a stretch, he never loved his creations, just saw their powers and skills as an extension of his will. Indeed, no one called him father either, the ones who did usually were killed. You see, family has no place in the cyraxian heart, they do not understand love or anything else the image of family represents. They only understand power. At least, that's what I've come to the conclusion, given our own races base instincts. Even I am not immune to the blood lust that flows just below the surface." There was no hint of regret in her voice as she admitted that she herself was not perfect. Perfection was something reserved only for the gods. The Brood Mother knew and accepted her own weaknesses with dignity.

The darkness was burned away, to reveal the blurry face of the dracon's creator. Even in the vision, his glowing eyes seemed to burn a spot into our very souls, seeing through our dracon forms to the fear within. The face began to laugh. Whether this was Alyxandra's doing or our own perception of the cyraxian was up to question. "He thought long and hard about, judging the pros and cons of each race on Telath, until finally he settled on the perfect choice. The dragons."

The cyraxian's blurry, laughing face was burned away by another burst of bright light and haloed in the middle was a great dragon, the colour of polished rubies. It was a she dragon, and she regarded us with bright eyes, filled with a mixture of loathing as well as love. " I never saw her, but this is how I gathered she looked. Our mother, the dragoness K'tani."

The dragon's head came forward and the tip of her snout brushed against my mate's forehead lightly, like a caress. For a moment, he told me later, he was flooded with love and comfort. Everything in the world look bright and safe, protected by his mother, the dragon. For a moment, he was almost asleep, craddled and protected by the warmth coming from the beautiful creature. Then the feeling began to fade away. Now we were seeing through her eyes, seeing the demon stealing away with her eggs. We knew the heartwrenching ache of a mother's love as her child is torn from her, and the awesome anger that bubbled up almost instantaneously from that same love.

Her flames, or where they ours? They seemed to be melded into one form. We were the dragoness at the moment. We felt her desperation to retreive and protect the stolen eggs from the evil that had stolen then from us before harm befell them. We felt the pain as the cyraxian's spells and weapons tore into our hide, scorching away the scales, eating away at the tender skin beneath. We felt his reflexes grow slower and slower, each move agony but we were still driven to protect his littles ones. Everything we felt was K'tani's and now it was also ours. When the great dragoness fell for the final time, a pleading look in her serpentine eyes, she was still reaching for the eggs that were so close, yet so far away.

Laughter surounded us dark, maniacal lauighter. The cyraxian held one egg up, taunting her with her weakness. Before his hand was raised and flicked disimisivly. I felt it. K'tani's death, as if it where my own. The despair that she felt, knowing she had failed her first and only clutch of eggs, had failed the little ones inside. The physical pain was secondary to her sadness and she cried once before her soul was extinguished.

Then I was in the mind of the killer. Seeing and feeling through the cyraxian's eyes at the dragoness' ruined body, feeling the unholy glee at having fought and killed the mother and knowing that her children were his to carry out his plans with. Then the vision went dark for a time, and faded away entirely. Once more I was sitting sitting in the Broodmother's office. I sat in my chair, tears rolling down my silvery scales as I gazed into the fire. Alexandra stood and wordlessly poured some more wine into our cups before reclaiming her own seat. "So the dragon died, the demon had won. Drink the wine, it will help you feel calmer. Do you have any questions before we continue?" We both shook our heads.

Alexandra smiled and nodded slowly. Lightly she ran a hand across the back of my hand in a soothing gesture before she cleared her throat and plunged back into the history lesson. Again the room around them faded as she spoke. " After that successful battle, the cyraxian took the clutch back to his lair, in the fetid pits of Aeternia. He had a total of eight eggs. Cyttoraxis knew he had to plan carefully, unless he wanted to take the time to find another mother dragon and her eggs. He knew he didn't have the time though, so instead of rushing forward blindly and ruining the eggs, he carefully thought out what he wanted to create. For several days the eggs sat in his study while he watched and thought."

A hellish image came to our minds then, of the demon sitting on a chair made of the skins of humans and elves, in a room that moaned and moved slightly. The walls around him were made of bodies and bones. Pairs of eyes stared out in blind fear and torment as the demon sat and pondered on his dilemna. The dragon's clutch sat in the middle of the room, bathed in the unholy light of the pit.

" Finally he came up with the idea of mixing his blood with the dragons. By doing so, he hoped to pervert the younglings in the eggs, to twist them into something that could be used." The image shifted to a labroatory, rather like an alchemist shop but with differences. There were more implements of torture and rare objects, mostly peices of different things in jars lining the walls.

The eggs where in the middle of the room, though they had been seperated. Five where in a shallow bowl dug out of the floor, the other three were set apart, in a different bowl. Cyttoraxis was standing in the middle of the room, a minor demon at his side. The cyraxian stripped from his robes and picked up a small hammer and chisel that glowed white hot at the tip. Handing them to his minion, he took a wicked curved knife and sliced his own wrists, catching the black blood in a chalice.

The minor demon had managed to break open holes the size of a finger tip in the eggs by the time the cyraxian had collected enough of his blood to suit his plan. With a thought, Cyttoraxis killed his minion, the demon turning to ashes that disappeared even as they fell to the floor. First he put his blood into the five eggs. As the black ichor entered the shells, the eggs themselves slowly darkened until they had turned as black as the blood corrupting the younglings inside.

Then he moved to the three seperate eggs. On the second one, my view changed. I was in the egg now, sharing Alexandra's own memories of the horror that befell her. And while her mind was unable to think or comprehend what was happening to her in her egg, she was aware that something had happened. No longer did she feel safe in her egg. The yolk that feed her and allowed her to grow was different. The baby dragon could sense dimly an evil blackness creeping down the cord that went from the yolk to her.

Then the blackness touched her, caressing her body in a excruciating manner as it changed her. My owns limbs felt the changes occuring as the blood mutated her. The pain went on for what seemed like eternity to the baby dragon in the shell as it's body and mind was shaped from something beautiful and pure into something twisted and evil.

Then, after hours, the unholy work was done, the egg split apart and she tumbled out of her perverted egg to lay with glistening scales that were caressed by the fetid winds of Aeternia. Again the laughing face of the cyraxian intruded, though this time, he stood before his newly created youngsters and let loose his mirth.

The Broodmother ceased to speak for a moment, perhaps she was still in thrall of her own memories of that horrible day. My mate and I were experiencing it second hand, through the Brood mother herself, but the draconess before them, one of the first, had lived it. She more than any of the other dracons had known exactly what the scaled race had lost when their eggs fell into the posession of the power hungry Cyraxians. Had things gone differently, she would have been one of the glorious dragons herself, one of the supreme powers in the world. However the memories did not cease, they swept on unerringly, the Broodmother narrorating or not.

I saw my sisters birthed from my new eyes while we watched. One of them was a large female, with scales that shaded from black to white covering her from head too toe, giving her the look of a living breath of smoke, or shadow stuff. The other one was smaller, more delicate looking than her sisters and covered in vibrant green scales. They both struggled to climb to her feet, their balance lacking, limbs, tails and wings all moving frantically. Dimly the females could hear vicous fighting from the other end of the room, however the demon had erected a wall between the newly created dracons, keeping them seperate for the moment. Cyttoraxis leaned over Alexandra herself and took her snout in his hand, twisting her head from side to side without regard to his creation's comfort, before going and inspecting the other two. The black and silver one tried to bite him when he took her head, and he cuffed her aside, where she cowwered until he had finished his inspection. The green female whimpered and tried to crawl away, but her uncaring father stepped on one of the still wet wings and held her down until he was satisfied, while the draconess screamed. Then he left the three alone.

The silver female regained her feet first and stood snarling and hissing, her red eyes glowing faintly as she glared at the whimpering green female. Finally she snapped and attacked her sister, overpowering the smaller female and ending her short life with brutal efficency of claws and teeth. Alyxandra herself watched with rising panic at the gory end of her sister, struggling to gain her own footing before the black turned on her. Then it was her turn to face the black and silver behemoth, as the other female turned on her older sister. Snarling the black advanced slowly, black blood from the green dripping to the floor where it bubbled away from the heat around the pair. The fight between the black and the red was brutal, and long. Alyxandra was the same size and just as strong, and finally she sank her fangs in her sisters neck and hung on, while the black pummeled her back with her talons, until finally the black and silver draconess expired and Alyxandra was left alone with the two corpses.

The Broodmother's voice broke in, as she held the memory of her sitting naked on the floor, covered in her own blood, and her sisters, staring at thebroken bodies and indifferent to them, now that the threat had passed. "Kalil, the First Father told me it was much the same for the males, he killed them in his bloodlust and earned his name from the demon. It means slave. I was never named, I don't know why, it was only after our liberation that I chose my name. We both shared the horror of our first act, we had killed our siblings in cold blood, for no other reason than we wanted to feel the warm splash of blood, and feel their souls dying and leaving their bodies. Often I wonder what my sisters and brothers would have been like, had they not been murdered by us, they haunt me sometimes, the ghosts of the first of our race. Sometimes I wish we had joined them, to save our young from their hardships and damnation, even after our salvation by the Bright Lady."

The image of the gore spattered draconess faded away slowly until everything was black. The next thing that broke the darkness was the image of a small stone cell. Cyttoraxis was present, in his foul hands he held a bucket. He set it down near the red draconess' foot. The smell was heavy with blood, herbs and something else more sinister. When Alexandra refused to eat, the Cyraxian forced her jaws open and poured the fouo stuff down her throat. Then he sat back and watched as the first draconesses bones and musles contorted and she grew. "Time was of an essence to the demon. They need troops and they needed them fast. He used a combination of different things to ensure we were fully matured quickly for the next step of his evil plan. Breeding." Echoed the Broodmother's voice across time.

Next she changed the images in our minds again, we were with her as she was lead by abyssal creatures to a pen where she was forced to lay and wait. Soon a dracon appeared, one covered with jet black scales. Cyttoraxis was preseant as well. This dracon did not rouse the rage that her sisters had made her feel, instead other, darker thoughts and desires swetp across the females mind. Evidently the male dracon felt the same, for soon they were coupling. It was not a tender and beautiful act of love making, it was bestial and savage, as much pain as there was pleasure, their snarls and hissing echoing in the pen, while their evil father watched with triumphant, glowing eyes.

After the vicious coupling, Cyttoraxis flung the male away, discarding himf or the moment as his glowing eyes fell on the female and what was now inside of her. Picking her up with no tought to her comfort, he laid her flat on a table, causing her to whimper as her tail and wings were pinched beneath her cruelly. She was unable to move, held there by her demonic father's will. Producing grisly tools, he sliced her open. Me and my mate were privy to her pain as she screamed, watching herself being butchered before her own eyes. The male stood by, helpless to stop the demon, a careless look on his face, he cared nothing for his mate and his sister, the same she felt for him.

Cyttoraxis scooped out some fluids and gore with a large ladle, then removed two small organs from her abdomen. He sliced these open, and squeezed their contents into the bowl as well. He turned to the male then, and his searing voice entered my mind once more. "Come, Kalil. I shall show you the true power of Aeternia." With that, Kalil meekly followed the demon out, leaving his sister bleeding to death on the table and mewling with pain, sparing not a glance for her.

The pains lowly faded. Once more I was in the glorious room, sitting with the broodmother and my mate. My hand was on my own belly as the phantoms of the Broodmother's suffering slowly faded. Looking at the regal draconess, I thought I saw a tear in those eyes. However her voice was calm and steady as she continued her story. "The next part is what I was told by Kalil himself after our redemption. Perhaps I was meant to die, but as an after thought the demon sent one of his underlings to save my life. They patched me up, but not perfectly. Later I would find I was barren. I had given birth to my children in the most horrible way I can think of, yet they were mine and Kalil's."

The our surroundings changed, we were following along behind Kalil and the cyraxian as they walked through the infernal realm. They walked to a great pool, which by the smell of it was filled with blood, sulfur, and various other compounds I did not want to dwell on. Cyttoraxis flung the contents of the bowl into the pool, and began chanting in a language that was painful to the ears. After a short while, he ceased, and turned to Kalil, terrible glee in his fearsome eyes.

"Bear witness to the birth of your progeny, Kalil. With you, and them, we shall storm the gates of Aetheria itself!" I turned to the pool then, and stood transfixed as the surface began to roil and froth. After a short while, the forms started to crawl out of the pool, and onto the floor, gasping for breath. Cyttoraxis' servants entered then, and carried these new Dracons off, to separate cells I thought at first, but the tide of bodies continued. "Hundreds of thousands of your ancestors were born that day, Corrine. I still wonder if Cyttoraxis did us any favor in creating us." Broke in the Broodmother's gentle voice.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Dracon history, inspired by Bun's ancient first draft, and changed to come from the Broodmother and her memories instead of Kalil's since I modded an unfinished thread with Darian on the subject matter.

This part only covers up to the creation of the dracons, I'm still in the process of doing the Cyraxian War itsself, Diana freeing them and the years before the Hidden City was created, including the split between the different mindsets, when the distinction between Diantar and Moraden was first made.

Comments are rewarded with cookies and ice cream.

[Dante Asunder]

I like it! Just go through it again for typos and it will be great. I would just like to point out that Dante is the same color as Kalil.

[Kaelon]

It is important to note that Bun's original draft is probably apocryphal, because it has been strongly suggested by recent role playing that Cyraxians and Aelyrians are one and the same -- without any "demonic" or "draconic" presence. That said, this looks like a solid beginning at a "Creation Myth" for Dracons, but I would urge against trying to retro-roleplay any events which we didn't actually role play. For us, the Dracons were simply a race of Draconic-humanoids; they did not, in fact, ever have any divine (celestial or infernal), or superbeing (Aelyrian or Cyraxian) interaction.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Oh, and who called that that new thread would screw over everything that's be done in the past, including the races! I get a cookie.

http://www.playbypost.com/forums/trysva...-please-2.html

^ Thread started in 2006. Unless this is going to be chalked down to another instance of "That was past mods (myself this time) who we don't like anymore so that doesn't count and you get screwed." The Broodmother was an approved NPC by xGM Rogue from early 2002.

As for having no interaction, so dracons sprang up from under a rock automatically knowing how to fight, shapeshift and talk their own language, thus nulling their own race write up, their langauge, their weapon and all of the last role playing for oh, since they started? Awesome.

[Kaelon]

I'm just saying that this write-up should be referred to as a myth, not a reality.

I'm not saying that write-ups like this aren't appropriate; I'm just saying that they should be labeled as "Creation Myths". What we role played was that Cyraxians never had anything to do with the Dracons themselves, so suggestions that they did are either (a) wishful thinking on the part of Dracons; and (b) a religious or cultural mythology.

I understand that the episode role played between Kubricize and Darian established some parameters, like the Broodmother, but, prior to that event, we always consistently held that Dracons were a draconic humanoid species, and we left it intentionally mysterious as to their origins -- so as to allow creation myths, like these, to flourish.

Additionally, there is some terminology that should be replaced -- Tearsfall is "Trysvale", for example (since Tearsfall is a registered trademark for another role playing game, and we cannot use it).

[Kaelon]

Further, I think this probably belongs under History/Legends, or Races, and not General History. History is supposed to refer to events in an encyclopedic and historical context; narratives of events fall under race or racial culture; as an historical tale, I can see it falling under the "Legends" category.

[Fog]

I would like to point a thing, that I think is pertinent:

While it is most natural to seek concordance to what was role played in the formalising of aelyrian history, there should be emphasis on the 'role played' aspect. It is true that as long as there is nothing that was role played concerning dracons interacting with God/Demon and whatever entities, it is also true that we can not hang and remain in the darkness and as long as there is no relevant information about the true 'history' a story based on threadable (is this a verb) role played stories remains predominant.

To sum it: if it is not true history, where is this genuine history; if nothing has been role played, I think threads exploring what happened in the past should not be labelled as back-roleplaying. How would we then discover the true origins of dracons if not by roleplaying threads, now.

I say this in the scope of this write-up but also regarding other articles and subjects in the realm that remain hanging and fuzzy which makes roleplaying such subjects become incomplete experience with an impression of empty shell.

My opinion, frankly.

[Z'kron]

If there's an actual "true history", it would be very, very nice to know it. My PC has been operating off information about their creation from Cyraxia for about a decade now; which was included in the racial writeup for Dracons as far back as early 2000..

"Dracons exist from long ago, when Cyraxians were warring upon Aelyria. One of the demons, more cruel and twisted than most, stole several eggs from a dragon's clutch. Though the dragon pursued, she was young and the Cyraxian slew her easily. He took the eggs to his dwelling, where he infused them with his foul blood. The first dracons were created in this way, born to serve the Cyraxians."

Which was expanded in 2004-2005 into a multi-paragraph long explanation of the Draconic creation (discussed and accepted as canon), and information from those articles fundamentally influencing almost *every* new dracon article that has been produced. Aside from that, as a result of this (that is, having information in an official article for several years) a large part of the character concepts of a few dracons has been the struggle against the Cyraxian influence. This is, personally, the first time I've heard there was no Cyraxian intervention; and my PC was supposed to have been around at that time..

So, if that isn't the case, could we get the bottom line of how dracons actually came about? It's not that far back in the past, so *some* PCs should know. For us to develop the race any further; at least OOC we need to know the "RL-truth", as it's contradicting 8 years of established canon.

[Dimnersti]

Ok, fairly simple solution.

Since we cant expect to have juan make changes to his current plots and or revisions due to potential inconsiticies, and we cant realy be expected to discard or modify years of active rp and IC precedent, we just make the smallest alterations possible and leave only minor details as vague.

So say, yes the dracons were created by the cyraxians, wether it was through their blood, some sort of arcanic or alchemic substance wich was refered to as cyraxians blood( the beleife it was actual blood a simple misconception as you so often see).

It leaves the potential change in cyraxians and AA's viable with aspects of the allready established creation of the dracon, but only changes the very minorist of details in what the actual method of creation was, wich is likely for the best as otherwise it would be relativly easy for a pc with the mind to do so to imitate.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

So, I could have continued posting last night, however to be honest, Juan's replies in this thread quite frankly, made me furious, as well as reminded me why I took a hiatus and more importantly, when I decided to do so. It also reminded me why I came back when I could have happily stayed on other sites I am a member of, and that would be my PC, her race and it's culture. Most of my friends have left, a large chunk of them int he past year. Kour'el is all that I have left, besides the new people I am meeting. So I could have continued arguing against the previous posts, except it would probably have ended up looking like a toddler found the * in the end. So I took the night off of Alleria and the computer and did other things. This morning I resolved to post and after my apointment this morning I walked halfway across the city to get rid of the last of the blinding anger. Now it's just smoldering.

So to try and come up with a way of how upsetting this is that you could concievably undertsand Juan, I'll give you an example of how your replies come across as.

Juan the Player: "As someone who has played an Ancient Allerian for the last five years, I've gathered up a bunch of tidbits abotu them from former players, contributors and the creator of the race themself. in an effort to give the Allerians more flavour players can use to improve their roleplaying I'm compiled a article about their creation and history."

Jade the Creator: "I'm sorry but this information is incorrect. Everyone who has played a Allerian or had anything to do with them in the last eight years is also wrong. On a whim, I have decided that Ancient Allerians are really the result Ioannes taking a really bad hit of acid and fornicating with a chicken as a bad one night stand.

Furthermore, roleplaying out a character development thread where a PC trys to evolve past their emo angsty question of why they were created and why people hate their race is bad, because making the chicken remeber that ioannes was a douchebag who never called back will make the chicken sad and won't fit in with my current idea."

I'm all for epic storylines and it's awesome to see you finally completing stuff you began instead of failed companion adventures, Alleria is Currently Propagating, and Aerysia but to do it at the expense of the work done by previous moderators and players is wrong. Consistency would be nice, since among the older players you are infamous for appearing, changing everything and leaving again, leaving everyone to scramble around and create patchworks for why stuff has been mucked with.

However I realize anything I say will likely fall upon deaf ears, given my past experiences with you, both talking to you, and the players left behind and watching what you have done in the past. What i do hope is clear is that anything in this post is not a personal attack for my own gain, it is said to protect a race I love and the works of myself and others who love them as well.

[Zim Rage]

I'd have to agree. I mean I've been playing for years. I've seen these changes first hand. Fortunitly few of them have effected me, and sence it wasnt role-played and Dracons have just always exsisted, basicly, why not have it be that way? It is not to say that we dracons are the off-spring of demons, we are saying that we are the off-spring of Dragons, but we are not in anyway shape or form trying to claim any special right to our existance, and for as long as I have been playing Alleria, as it was once called, It has always been common knowledge of the Cyrexian effects on the creation of the Dracons and the effects of Diana on the release of the Dracons. And thats just what it comes down to. Common Knowledge. Sure, myths are fine, perhaps what we are showing here is dramatisized for theatrics, but from what I have expererienced as a player is that it is just common knowledge, no doubts about it. The church acknowledges is, IC, the players respond to it, IC, and OOC backing to it is in agreance. I'd say that if you want to turn around and slap the people, or person, who has worked the hardest out of anyone to help develop a part of the Aelyrian world further, in the face then you'd better be ready to watch them leave, in addition to re-do all of there work themselves, because all of the pre-drafts and first drafts that Kour'el have done have been beautiful works, really helping to make the game more consistant and make the race more understood.

Kour'el, as they said previously: The write up looks great, other then a few typos, looks completely accurate to me. Can't wait to see it set in stone!