Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Magic of Music

In a land unnamed, there was a people called the Komali, a race of elven-like personages that found how to use music to create magic; softer music resulted in beneficial effects, while harsher music interpreted more hostile results. There were five of them who managed to use this magic to ascend mortality, called the Muses, who became god-like figures in the eyes of the Komali. In the countless centuries afterward, the people experimented with music of different kinds, creating a way to store the souls of animals inside a small stone that would serve as a personal companion and guide. In the last years of the Komali, a group of priests calling themselves the Order of Discord attempted to follow the Muses by using music that carried only chaotic intent. This eventually divided the people and led to their destruction. Now, a number of individuals have seemingly been called together, despite various pasts, ideals, and races, to face against the resurrected Order of Discord one last time.

Devrim was, in a word, desperate; he’d been hunted down by a rogue band of mages and assassins for quite some time, yet only after entering the nearby village of Mellowbrook. Prior to this, he had wandered the landscapes of the world with his Companion Hawk, Archemidies, and a previously disowned Fox named Copper, seeking lost ruins and ancient secrets of the Komali. He turned another corner, his companions close behind as his staff tapped on the cobbled stones with every other step he took. He was not an old man, but was well aged around 43 or so, thus the walking stick aided in his travels. He called the Hawk and Fox back into their stones, pocketing them as he continued to escape from the madmen who were hot on his trail.

She heaved the fallen fawn upon her shoulders, bearing its light weight as she made her path back to her village, Mellowbrook. Today was another successful hunting trip. Her fellow hunters had managed to catch amount equal to hers. Everyone had a catch to bring back home.

She led the hunting party on the path towards home. It had been a safe and event-less trip until she encountered a middle-aged man with a walking stick. She did not recognize this man. Her eyes narrowed. Her party erupted into murmurs of suspicion. Tamrur took a step forward to the man, and cleared her throat.

"Who are you, and what is your business?"

Mellowbrook was a rather well-protected and hidden village, one that was set far apart from other towns. It functioned well on its own; its forests were plentiful with food and wood and the mines were overflowing with gold. People of all backgrounds, races and abilities were welcomed in this haven. Which was why the presence of unfamiliar faces (particularly any strangers who were not accompanied by a recognized citizen) was treated with skepticism. People often jumped to conclusions about lone strangers.

He nearly ran into the half-orcish woman standing before him, which proved as to how distracted he was. “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, “but I don’t have time to stop and chat; they’re after me, and I won’t allow them to get me. So if you’ll excuse me...” He tried to get around the huntress, already hearing the horrid notes of Discord closing in on him.

The Warden was walking upward on the road they were on, he was whispering to himself about something, he then laughed out loud to whatever he said, his laugh then quiet to a chuckle as he go up the road with a few new gold coins, and away from a another dead thief.

The Warden then heard some voices in front of him,”Oh joy, people!” The Warden was full with joy at the fact that there may be a chance that whatever in front may not try to kill him like everyone and everything that he meet before. He then walk up the road to meet whatever there, he then walk out into the opening with a grin on his face, The Warden look like a friendly young man, if you take off all the armor and the bloody sword, in fact, he was in his 20s right now, he was fairly sure that he was a teen when he left home, to be frank, he doesn’t really care for that anymore, The Warden have no guide to help him, that is what he call those animals trap in stones, and he doesn’t need one, he still alive right? Anyway, back to what The Warden was doing. The Warden stare at the, what was they called, ah yes, half-orc woman and stranger with her, he then realized that they was more half-orcs behind her, they were carrying dead animals,‘They are a hunting party then,’ The Warden thought to himself, he then wave at everyone,”Hello there!” He said in a joyful tone,”May I ask what happening here?”

He continued to try and get around, but was forced to commune with these newcomers. “I am Kentis,” he explained, “and I am currently escaping the grasp of the Order of Discord, an ancient society brought back from death by the zealots of the dark magic. Now please, let me pass before they...”

It was then that a group of black robed figures, each with a strange symbol on their hoods, rushed around the corner. “There he is,” the leader shouted, “stop the heretic; the power of Discord cannot be halted!”