Okay, so.. I've been building this world of magic for almost two years, and my favorite and most complicated one so far is the Storytellers, who have got to be more impressive than most things I've ever done.
What Are Storytellers, Cosmic?
Storytellers are sorcerers and magicians who guard the world's knowledge. They are sworn to protect all forms of language, whether it be spoken or written. They restore those who are having amnesia, and protect enormous, important libraries.
And Why Are You Posting About Them?
Because I'm surrounded by phenomenal storytellers, myself! And I want to hear more suggestions, and questions about how I can improve the universe.
And now I will throw down EVERYTHING I can recall about the world, speaking from the view of Mekhtet, the first Storyteller, since I've always walked the world in her shoes and it's just easier..
One cannot say they have no purpose in life when so many different things need to be addressed, I thought with a tinge of bitterness, and looked back at the doorway from which I'd come. Walking back there, I would've been greeted with a dark staircase up to the ramshackle shed that had hidden the entrance to Headquarters. We were, after all, meant to have been secretive, even though we stopped mystic creatures on a daily basis whilst repairing most human things.
I smiled over into the door on my left, where the many, many apprentices would be honing their skills to join the higher ranks, whichever path they chose. The most commonly chosen path was, of course, the Protector. I had been one before becoming the Queen.
It was a cushy sort of job. Just blend in and protect the library from whatever comes. If I remember correctly, almost 89.4% of libraries worldwide were then owned by Alfa, the company that we run from behind the scenes.
Anywho. I kept walking, and entered the elevator. 1st floor, the top of the facility, held the classrooms. 2nd floor would be the sleeping quarters for the higher ranks, and below that, the 3rd floor, was the apprentice rooms. Safety, first. 4th floor was for Senators and others of importance, such as myself. Though my title came with more responsibility than most could handle, and I often found myself snapping when I shouldn't have been angry. 5th floor was labeled 'Rank Senator or higher' and the last three floors were labeled 'Queen Permission Access Only'.
My eyes merely skimmed past the tiny warnings on the buttons, and tapped the last one. Prisoners of the wars we were constantly being hit with.
Last time the elves challenged us, I thought with a grim smile. The whole place almost collapsed.. Briefly I let my thoughts wander, and then draw them back. An audible pop sounds at my carelessness, and I right it with a Restore spell. The elevator makes a delicate pinging noise, and I step out. My eyes soon adjust to the dim light.
Ahead of me, a long, ominous hallway stretches out. I hear talking. Nobody should be down here, and there shouldn't be any reason to be here in the first place, we set all the prisoners go after the elves signed the treaty.
I walk with a purpose, my eyebrows knitting as I go. I should've just turned around, but how could I have known that my empire would fall that very day? My death marked a new war, a war with the orcs, whose strength and numbers were far more than our own. I'd leave that terrible fate to Helena the mystic, the only Storyteller to survive the downfall.
If I remember correctly, and I often do, she's living at the top of a mountain in an abandoned cathedral, crafting runes for paying customers.
Questions and suggestions?
What Are Storytellers, Cosmic?
Storytellers are sorcerers and magicians who guard the world's knowledge. They are sworn to protect all forms of language, whether it be spoken or written. They restore those who are having amnesia, and protect enormous, important libraries.
And Why Are You Posting About Them?
Because I'm surrounded by phenomenal storytellers, myself! And I want to hear more suggestions, and questions about how I can improve the universe.
And now I will throw down EVERYTHING I can recall about the world, speaking from the view of Mekhtet, the first Storyteller, since I've always walked the world in her shoes and it's just easier..
~Mekhtet~
One cannot say they have no purpose in life when so many different things need to be addressed, I thought with a tinge of bitterness, and looked back at the doorway from which I'd come. Walking back there, I would've been greeted with a dark staircase up to the ramshackle shed that had hidden the entrance to Headquarters. We were, after all, meant to have been secretive, even though we stopped mystic creatures on a daily basis whilst repairing most human things.
I smiled over into the door on my left, where the many, many apprentices would be honing their skills to join the higher ranks, whichever path they chose. The most commonly chosen path was, of course, the Protector. I had been one before becoming the Queen.
It was a cushy sort of job. Just blend in and protect the library from whatever comes. If I remember correctly, almost 89.4% of libraries worldwide were then owned by Alfa, the company that we run from behind the scenes.
Anywho. I kept walking, and entered the elevator. 1st floor, the top of the facility, held the classrooms. 2nd floor would be the sleeping quarters for the higher ranks, and below that, the 3rd floor, was the apprentice rooms. Safety, first. 4th floor was for Senators and others of importance, such as myself. Though my title came with more responsibility than most could handle, and I often found myself snapping when I shouldn't have been angry. 5th floor was labeled 'Rank Senator or higher' and the last three floors were labeled 'Queen Permission Access Only'.
My eyes merely skimmed past the tiny warnings on the buttons, and tapped the last one. Prisoners of the wars we were constantly being hit with.
Last time the elves challenged us, I thought with a grim smile. The whole place almost collapsed.. Briefly I let my thoughts wander, and then draw them back. An audible pop sounds at my carelessness, and I right it with a Restore spell. The elevator makes a delicate pinging noise, and I step out. My eyes soon adjust to the dim light.
Ahead of me, a long, ominous hallway stretches out. I hear talking. Nobody should be down here, and there shouldn't be any reason to be here in the first place, we set all the prisoners go after the elves signed the treaty.
I walk with a purpose, my eyebrows knitting as I go. I should've just turned around, but how could I have known that my empire would fall that very day? My death marked a new war, a war with the orcs, whose strength and numbers were far more than our own. I'd leave that terrible fate to Helena the mystic, the only Storyteller to survive the downfall.
If I remember correctly, and I often do, she's living at the top of a mountain in an abandoned cathedral, crafting runes for paying customers.
~End~
Questions and suggestions?
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