by Dare Shah » Sat Jul 29, 2023 8:33 pm
"Then let's start with the logical beginning: The reason the Shah went drifting across the multiverse, a journey that would eventually take them to Sigil. The Tale of the Checkered Knight and the Broken Sword.
My family traces its roots to a plan of low technology and mysterious sorcery, at a time that would eventually be remembered as the Age of Knights.
For the century prior, the land had been at war, for it was home to Thirteen Great Mages, and each wanted full dominion over hills and fields, mountains and rivers, sky and earth. From the sanctum of their towers, they would summon terrible beasts, noxious plagues and undead armies against territories controlled by one another, to the tragedy of the people living there.
The Knights were a militia turned warriors turned sacred order who fought against these foul horrors, people of little magic and great courage trying to build a kingdom where no one would have to live in constant fear of the Mages.
And the worst happened.
They succeeded.
The Last Mage was defeated, the last remnants of their sorcery purged. And for a time, the land indeed enjoyed a well-deserved peace.
The thing is, the Knights, they were all very different people, only united through their common enemy. Some came from a long and prestigious lineage. Some were nobodies that had just grabbed a sword one day. Some had embraced the magical arts to better fight them. Some rejected them entirely. Some adhered to a stern moral code. Some were unsettlingly pragmatic.
These differences had been brushed aside for the cause, compromises found even if grudgingly. But now that they effectively ruled the land and it was time to share the spoils, that one became king, others dukes, barons, counts, all of these resentments, old and fresh, started to fester.
It wouldn't be one year before the first violent dispute between two Knights. Not three before the pitched battle between two domains. Not five before the first rebellion against the king.
And the king, he had that sword you know. That sword that had been passed from prominent knight to prominent knight through the entirety of the war against the Mages. That had been used to slay a few of them even. Upon which most of the current knights had sworn their oath. The very symbol of their unity and victory.
And, in a fit of rage, as one of his former allies was about to conquer his castle, he shattered it against the ground.
And suddenly, as in response, the kingdom the sword has helped built shattered all the same. An earthquake the like of which had never been witnessed before, even at the peak of the madness of the Mages, tore down the countryside, split it apart, opened bottomless chasms from which rose a mist dense enough to turn day into night.
Many perished on the spot that day. Many more disappeared, never to be heard of again. My ancestor, the Checkered Knight, was spared.
A simple man of little greed, he had kept himself and his family outside of the conflict, and was in his mansions with his loved ones while Armageddon unfold. And luck or destiny had decided his house would stand strong through the catastrophe.
From behind the solid walls, cautiously rationing the provisions of the cellar, the family would patiently wait for the all engulfing mist to retreat. And, after thirty days, it did. And the Shah discovered the piece of land their manor stood upon had been transported under a different sun, under different stars."
Dare caught her breath.
"Of course, with the benefits of hindsight, we can guess what happened. Their original plan, in part or in totality, was torn apart like a sheet of paper, and the confetti thrown through the multiverse. But those technical details, the Shah would only learn far later."
Art source:
https://www.artstation.com/artwork/JeJ6oA
https://www.freepik.com/free-photos-vec ... ipt-border"Then let's start with the logical beginning: The reason the Shah went drifting across the multiverse, a journey that would eventually take them to Sigil. The Tale of the Checkered Knight and the Broken Sword.
[img]https://i.imgur.com/iolUMEK.png[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/iXZfBCV.jpg[/img]
My family traces its roots to a plan of low technology and mysterious sorcery, at a time that would eventually be remembered as the Age of Knights.
For the century prior, the land had been at war, for it was home to Thirteen Great Mages, and each wanted full dominion over hills and fields, mountains and rivers, sky and earth. From the sanctum of their towers, they would summon terrible beasts, noxious plagues and undead armies against territories controlled by one another, to the tragedy of the people living there.
The Knights were a militia turned warriors turned sacred order who fought against these foul horrors, people of little magic and great courage trying to build a kingdom where no one would have to live in constant fear of the Mages.
And the worst happened.
They succeeded.
The Last Mage was defeated, the last remnants of their sorcery purged. And for a time, the land indeed enjoyed a well-deserved peace.
The thing is, the Knights, they were all very different people, only united through their common enemy. Some came from a long and prestigious lineage. Some were nobodies that had just grabbed a sword one day. Some had embraced the magical arts to better fight them. Some rejected them entirely. Some adhered to a stern moral code. Some were unsettlingly pragmatic.
These differences had been brushed aside for the cause, compromises found even if grudgingly. But now that they effectively ruled the land and it was time to share the spoils, that one became king, others dukes, barons, counts, all of these resentments, old and fresh, started to fester.
It wouldn't be one year before the first violent dispute between two Knights. Not three before the pitched battle between two domains. Not five before the first rebellion against the king.
And the king, he had that sword you know. That sword that had been passed from prominent knight to prominent knight through the entirety of the war against the Mages. That had been used to slay a few of them even. Upon which most of the current knights had sworn their oath. The very symbol of their unity and victory.
And, in a fit of rage, as one of his former allies was about to conquer his castle, he shattered it against the ground.
And suddenly, as in response, the kingdom the sword has helped built shattered all the same. An earthquake the like of which had never been witnessed before, even at the peak of the madness of the Mages, tore down the countryside, split it apart, opened bottomless chasms from which rose a mist dense enough to turn day into night.
Many perished on the spot that day. Many more disappeared, never to be heard of again. My ancestor, the Checkered Knight, was spared.
A simple man of little greed, he had kept himself and his family outside of the conflict, and was in his mansions with his loved ones while Armageddon unfold. And luck or destiny had decided his house would stand strong through the catastrophe.
From behind the solid walls, cautiously rationing the provisions of the cellar, the family would patiently wait for the all engulfing mist to retreat. And, after thirty days, it did. And the Shah discovered the piece of land their manor stood upon had been transported under a different sun, under different stars."
Dare caught her breath.
"Of course, with the benefits of hindsight, we can guess what happened. Their original plan, in part or in totality, was torn apart like a sheet of paper, and the confetti thrown through the multiverse. But those technical details, the Shah would only learn far later."
Art source:
[url]https://www.artstation.com/artwork/JeJ6oA[/url]
[url]https://www.freepik.com/free-photos-vectors/illuminated-manuscript-border[/url]