TayMaiTer
An extrovert reader that writes away reality.
In a medieval village, there is a group of people that will change their town's future...
The kingdom has a vast geography. From polar ice caps, to burning deserts. Rainforests to mountains. Scattered throughout the land are many villages, each adapting to their climate and surroundings. Artisans, merchants and traders, people flock from place to place. While there are villages, there are also cities. Cities with giant stone walls and a Lord ruling over it and the surrounding area. These cities are filled with good, happy people. Crops and livestock are plenty, there haven't been attacks from the wild magic beasts that roam the land. It has been a land of prosperity.
But then, a certain noble got it into his head that he would make a better ruler. So, he gathered an army. Warriors, magic users, filthy beasts. Somehow made them fight under one banner. And he attacked the capitol.
The land's prosperity faltered as people were attacked. Villages were burned, whole families butchered. Dark times fell over the kingdom.
Once the arrogant noble had won the brutal and bloody fight, he declared himself king over the land and did something no one would expect.
He made all forms of magic outlawed. And anyone accused of practicing magic was to be completely annihilated. Beheading, dismemberment, then burning. Nothing left. Those that managed to escape the butcher blocks were sent to slave camps.
See, magic was a common thing in the land. Most people had some form of magic, though is was usually small powers. Encouraging plants to grow, bringing rain, speaking to animals. Few people had powerful, uncontrolled magic that never watered down through bloodlines. Water, fire, earth, air...
Magic was a part of everyday life.
But when the king outlawed magic, claiming it was an affront to the gods, everything changed. Blood ran in the streets as powerful seers and healers were murdered. No one was spared. Not even children. The air was clogged with the smoke of burning bodies. Libraries containing invaluable knowledge were burned to the ground. People who couldn't even perform magic, but were hybrids, or other magic creatures, were slaughtered.
It was a horrible time. Illnesses and diseases that once could have been easily cured by a gifted healer, now kill people without pause. And at the head of it all, making all the decisions, was the king. A middle-aged man with one heir to the throne. A man that ruled from a stone throne in the capital of the kingdom, located near the sea. This is the tyrant of a king that rules today.
Now, people struggle to survive. Taxes are unbearable, and anyone who can't pay are sent to slave camps. Guards do and take as they please. Villages and cities that were once filled with clean streets and smiling faces are now over run by beggars and filth.
But there is a village, surrounded and hidden by misty mountains, with a singlre road leading in and out of the valley. The people of the village fear the mountains and surrounding forests, the creatures that live unchecked within.
In this village resides a group of people. Every day folk that had lived their lives and still continue to do so. The village doesn't receive much news. Only the stories that follow the occasional trader and merchant. Wild stories of dragons and war. Entertainment, but not news.
One piece of news that is spreading, and spreading like wildfire, is news of a rebellion. A group of people who have grown tired living under the king's thumb. This rebellion wants to throw the king off his throne and restore the peace and prosperity that had come before.
And rumor has it that the rebellion is located in the mountain village...
The king, deciding to crush this "rebellion" once and for all, attacks the village. No one is allowed to escape. All the occupants, men, women, children, elders, must be either enslaved or killed. Farms are burned, buildings destroyed and pillaged. Every belonging is either smashed or taken
The army came in the dead of night, setting fire to their farms and homes while they slept. People woke to smoke and flames, their entire life burning around them. People burned in their beds or were slaughtered in the streets. And the king sent the order to commit this crime with a smile. Saying, "No one shall rebel."
But a group of villagers, each from different backgrounds and occupations, managed to flee. They ran into the mountains, not realizing they were a group until meeting each other in hiding.
Where do they go now? Do they search out this elusive rebellion and join it, fighting to tear the king from hid throne? Or do they enlist into the king's army to escape punishment? Or, maybe, live on the run?
They have no where to go. No village or city will harbor them, for fear of the same consequence their home received.
What do they do now?
Art does not belong to me. Credit to artists.
The kingdom has a vast geography. From polar ice caps, to burning deserts. Rainforests to mountains. Scattered throughout the land are many villages, each adapting to their climate and surroundings. Artisans, merchants and traders, people flock from place to place. While there are villages, there are also cities. Cities with giant stone walls and a Lord ruling over it and the surrounding area. These cities are filled with good, happy people. Crops and livestock are plenty, there haven't been attacks from the wild magic beasts that roam the land. It has been a land of prosperity.
But then, a certain noble got it into his head that he would make a better ruler. So, he gathered an army. Warriors, magic users, filthy beasts. Somehow made them fight under one banner. And he attacked the capitol.
The land's prosperity faltered as people were attacked. Villages were burned, whole families butchered. Dark times fell over the kingdom.
Once the arrogant noble had won the brutal and bloody fight, he declared himself king over the land and did something no one would expect.
He made all forms of magic outlawed. And anyone accused of practicing magic was to be completely annihilated. Beheading, dismemberment, then burning. Nothing left. Those that managed to escape the butcher blocks were sent to slave camps.
See, magic was a common thing in the land. Most people had some form of magic, though is was usually small powers. Encouraging plants to grow, bringing rain, speaking to animals. Few people had powerful, uncontrolled magic that never watered down through bloodlines. Water, fire, earth, air...
Magic was a part of everyday life.
But when the king outlawed magic, claiming it was an affront to the gods, everything changed. Blood ran in the streets as powerful seers and healers were murdered. No one was spared. Not even children. The air was clogged with the smoke of burning bodies. Libraries containing invaluable knowledge were burned to the ground. People who couldn't even perform magic, but were hybrids, or other magic creatures, were slaughtered.
It was a horrible time. Illnesses and diseases that once could have been easily cured by a gifted healer, now kill people without pause. And at the head of it all, making all the decisions, was the king. A middle-aged man with one heir to the throne. A man that ruled from a stone throne in the capital of the kingdom, located near the sea. This is the tyrant of a king that rules today.
Now, people struggle to survive. Taxes are unbearable, and anyone who can't pay are sent to slave camps. Guards do and take as they please. Villages and cities that were once filled with clean streets and smiling faces are now over run by beggars and filth.
But there is a village, surrounded and hidden by misty mountains, with a singlre road leading in and out of the valley. The people of the village fear the mountains and surrounding forests, the creatures that live unchecked within.
In this village resides a group of people. Every day folk that had lived their lives and still continue to do so. The village doesn't receive much news. Only the stories that follow the occasional trader and merchant. Wild stories of dragons and war. Entertainment, but not news.
One piece of news that is spreading, and spreading like wildfire, is news of a rebellion. A group of people who have grown tired living under the king's thumb. This rebellion wants to throw the king off his throne and restore the peace and prosperity that had come before.
And rumor has it that the rebellion is located in the mountain village...
The king, deciding to crush this "rebellion" once and for all, attacks the village. No one is allowed to escape. All the occupants, men, women, children, elders, must be either enslaved or killed. Farms are burned, buildings destroyed and pillaged. Every belonging is either smashed or taken
The army came in the dead of night, setting fire to their farms and homes while they slept. People woke to smoke and flames, their entire life burning around them. People burned in their beds or were slaughtered in the streets. And the king sent the order to commit this crime with a smile. Saying, "No one shall rebel."
But a group of villagers, each from different backgrounds and occupations, managed to flee. They ran into the mountains, not realizing they were a group until meeting each other in hiding.
Where do they go now? Do they search out this elusive rebellion and join it, fighting to tear the king from hid throne? Or do they enlist into the king's army to escape punishment? Or, maybe, live on the run?
They have no where to go. No village or city will harbor them, for fear of the same consequence their home received.
What do they do now?
Art does not belong to me. Credit to artists.
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