The Cadence

Work in progress, Big Cataclysmic event is tiring to write! Lots more DOOM to come.

As The Cadence Unfurled Its Wicked Symphony, The Land Trembled Beneath The Weight Of A Cataclysmic Aurora, Distorting Reality Itself, Leaving Naught But Transformed Landscapes, Shattered Lives, And The Lingering Echoes Of A Fallen Age.

The last breath of the creator God drew a close to the myrathic era, and with it, the great calamity of the cadence would engulf all creation.

Of all the calamities to have befallen Evalaw, the Cadence is perhaps the most profound disaster, and its ramifications can still be felt to this day. The manifestation of the great Aurora, the magical maelstrom that indiscriminately swept across the land, distorting everything in its path, leaving behind a trail of destruction, death, and despair. The very landscape and it's people were transformed, with very few remaining as they once were.

Ultimately, the cadence was a great malum against the creator god Folurne at the hands of the Fallen one and the primordial serpent Seerix. Their treacherous act would unbind the Elder Magic that held the fabric of creation together, unleashing a torrent of wild magic that saturated the world. Setting in motion a chain of events that would bring an end to the Myrathic age.

Hark, o' muse, to the tale of woe untold, Of Evalaw's plight, in legends it's enfolded. The Archtrees, radiant, their golden light did fade, A harbinger of chaos, in shadows they wade.
Unshackled were the bonds, a world in disarray, Elder magic receding, as night usurped the day. The fabric of creation trembled, destiny's decree, And in this tempest's wake, darkness claimed its fee.
Amidst this swirling turmoil, the Dragon Flight took flight, Elders of the Drakkan, seeking solace in the night. Their departure veiled, a mystery that none could perceive, Leaving Evalaw behind, its heartbreak to grieve.

— Melpomea, the Muse of Tragedy

A claminty unfurled.

The initial harbinger of the Cadence unfolded with an ominous air of disarray. Magic, the lifeblood that coursed through the veins of creation, trembled beneath an unseen weight. Threads of enchantment, once meticulously woven, began to unravel with unsettling ease. The intricate spells, meant to shape and mold the world, faltered and crumbled even as they were brought to life, leaving naught but fragments of fractured power. Enchantments that once held the fabric of existence in delicate balance succumbed to an insidious decay, their promises of stability vanishing into the abyss.

Elder Magic, theorized to be the essence wielded by the creator god, embodies the breath of life itself, breathed into every being and force found throughout creation. It encompasses the fundamental energy that once flowed in abundance, connecting all aspects of existence and binding them in a delicate harmony. Yet, the fickle tides of destiny intervened, as the hubris of the Fallen one extinguished this divine gift, leaving only remnants of its awe-inspiring might.

Not even the natural wonders, imbued with the lifeblood of magic, could escape the tendrils of this malevolent entropy. A sickly pallor crept upon the creatures born of this mystical essence, their vitality waning with each passing moment. The world itself, once a tapestry interlaced with vibrant hues of arcane energy, now bared its fractured veins, bleeding the fading remnants of its power.
Initially, these disturbances manifested as whispers upon the wind, barely noticeable to the untrained eye. Yet, within the span of mere days, the mages and those attuned to the subtle harmonies of magic could no longer ignore the mounting peril. An undeniable truth emerged, seeping into their consciousness like a chilling draught—magic itself was receding, as though the very essence that sustained the world was being inexorably drawn away.

The Death of the Archtrees

The death of the Archtrees reverberated throughout the realms like a dirge, unravelling the delicate tapestry of existence and plunging the world into a desolate abyss of fading magic and looming chaos.

Where primordial energies intertwined with mortal existence, the magnificent Archtrees stood as majestic beacons of ethereal brilliance. Their resplendent golden radiance bathed all creation in a tapestry of light and life that captivated the hearts of all who beheld it.
Yet, the onset of catastrophe bore its shadowy fangs upon the Archtrees, bringing forth an unforeseen calamity. Gradually, like a fading ember in the wind, their radiant glow began to wane, plunging the realms into a desolate twilight. No longer did the golden luminescence grace the land, leaving naught but a mournful void in its wake.
And then, as if cursed by the hands of fate, the once-vibrant branches of these celestial giants succumbed to a sickly malaise. The very essence that gave them strength and vitality began to wither, entwined tendrils of life succumbing to a cruel and unyielding decay. Mighty limbs, once outstretched in grandeur, trembled with finality before crashing to the ground, shattering into particles of desiccated dust.
Amongst the Aelvar, a race of ethereal beings whose melodies carried the essence of their emotions, despair echoed through the air like a mournful dirge. The loss of the Archtrees struck at the core of their being, for they were attuned to the subtle vibrations of Elder magic. It was their souls that first sensed the ebb of this ancient power, an ominous retreat that whispered of an impending darkness.
Meanwhile, the stoic Drakkan, their vigilant gaze piercing the tumultuous skies, beheld the crumbling demise with a profound unease. The fall of these towering arboreal wonders spelled not only the ruin of natural splendour but also heralded a rupture in the delicate harmony that bound the realms together. They understood, perhaps more than any other, the fragile balance that tethered the cosmos, and their troubled countenances mirrored the impending chaos.
In the wake of the fallen branches, devastation reigned supreme, reducing vast landscapes that once thrived beneath the sheltering embrace of the Archtrees to desolation and ruin. What fragments of existence endured now faced an unforgiving trial, for the Cadence, born from the demise of the Archtrees, unfurled its wicked claws, ready to unleash havoc upon all realms, rending the fabric of creation itself.

The Dragon Flight

It is said that the Drakkan had foreseen the coming of such an event, but they were powerless to prevent it from happening…

DDeep within the realm of the Drakkan, a profound disquiet settled upon the Elders, their hearts heavy with the sudden demise of the Archtrees. To them, it was not a mere tragedy but a foreboding omen of an imminent catastrophe. For in the very fiber of their being, they understood the intimate connection between the Archtrees and the divine Creator, an unbreakable bond whose abrupt destruction carried weighty implications, concealed from the eyes of all but the venerable Drakkan.
In the face of this unfolding calamity, the Drakkan, who had once ruled the heavens, fled. A soaring lament in the ancient skies, abandoning their lairs and relinquishing their precious hoards. With a single, collective voice, they uttered one last cry—carrying with it a symphony of anguish and longing throughout the realms, drawing the ears of all who sought to hear. As their wings beat in unison, they embarked on a solemn pilgrimage, borne by winds that now carried a taint of decay.

The claims that my kin abandoned the other races in the face of the Cadence weigh heavily upon my heart. I understand the pain and frustration that might arise from feeling forsaken, left to face such a catastrophic event on their own.

— Mehru

Their departure was not an act of cowardice or indifference, but a poignant choice born of a profound understanding. The Elders, in their wisdom, recognized that remaining tethered to their celestial dominion would be futile in the face of an impending cataclysm. Witnessing the Drakkans' ascent, their silhouettes blending with the clouds, until they disappeared from sight. In the silence that followed their departure, a mournful stillness filled the world, as the other races watched on, filled with a mix of awe and sorrow.
The Drakkan's final destination remains shrouded in mystery, an enigma whispered only among the eldest of their kind, who guard this precious secret from the curious grasp of all who seek it.

In twilight's gentle embrace, destiny unfurled, The world held its breath, awaiting the fated twirl. Shadows whispered secrets, on the edge they played, Weaving tragedy's tapestry, a grand masquerade.
On destiny's precipice, reality did tremble, Teetering on the brink, its fragile threads assemble. Unknowing, the denizens of Evalaw remained, As the tempest approached, its power unrestrained.
Ignorant to the storm that would reshape their lives, They stood, hearts veiled, in the shadows' guise. The tragic symphony, a melody hauntingly profound, Forever echoing, their souls forever bound.

— Melpomea, the Muse of Tragedy

The Great Aurora.

A cataclysmic surge that rent through reality's fragile tapestry, unfurling an unbridled tempest of wild magic upon the unsuspecting world.

As the dragons vanished from the heavens, their departure left the giants feeling an sense of dread and unease. While the Aelvar and Fae mourned the loss of the Archtrees and sought solace in celestial guidance, the giants, sensing the impending storm, sought refuge within the very heart of the mountains. However, their attempts to shield themselves proved futile, for the tempest that was to come would spare no corner of Evalaw.

In the ancient lore of Evalaw, the term "cadence" holds a profound significance, encompassing more than a mere cataclysmic event. It speaks of the resounding symphony that reverberated through the very fabric of existence, an overwhelming cacophony that accompanied the eruption of the Aurora. This deafening noise, like the collective gasp of a dying world, echoed across the realms, signaling the moment of the Creator God's ultimate demise. It was a death rattle that shook the foundations of all creation, a mournful requiem that etched itself into the memory of those who bore witness, forever carrying the weight of that somber melody in their souls. The Cadence, with its resounding echoes, became the poignant reminder of a divine legacy lost, and a harbinger of the profound changes that would shape the destiny of Evalaw for all time.

On the brink of destiny's unravelling, a hushed stillness settled upon the land, as if the very fabric of creation held its breath, oblivious to the imminent cataclysm. Then, in a burst of sublime chaos, the skies ignited with a mesmerizing display, hues of ethereal light intertwining with the darkness, both captivating and chilling to the core. And in an instant, the great Aurora erupted, tearing through reality's fragile tapestry, a tempestuous torrent of untamed magic unleashed upon the unsuspecting world.
The lands convulsed beneath the weight of the unbridled forces, transformed by the sheer magnitude of the chaotic surge. Arcane tempests, like ferocious beasts, rampaged across once-familiar landscapes, leaving naught but distortion and twisted remnants in their wake. All that dared to stand in the path of this relentless onslaught found themselves forever altered, their very essence contorted by the whims of unruly power. Lives shattered like fragile glass, civilizations crumbled under the merciless weight of the storm's fury, and the echoes of the Myrathic age faded into mournful whispers, lost to the annals of time.

In the aftermath of this primordial maelstrom, Evalaw emerged, scarred and marked by the indomitable wrath of the Cadence. The world bore the undeniable imprint of this upheaval, its very identity irrevocably changed. A new era had dawned, born from the crucible of destruction, forever shaping the destiny of all who called Evalaw home.

The Aftermath

What would come was nightmares. The creatures of the land began to warp and twist, the very land was changing.

In the wake of the Cadence, the fae of Evalaw found themselves subjected to a profound and abrupt transformation, as if the very essence of their being had been rewoven by the capricious hands of fate. The giants, once mighty and revered, were driven to madness, their minds unraveled and consumed by primal savagery, transforming them into rampaging monsters that laid waste to all in their path.
Among the fae, the impact of the Cadence manifested in myriad ways. The Dwarin, elemental beings forged from rock and stone, were forever altered as the Cadence tore through the underworld, reshaping their essence into creatures of flesh and bone. The peaceful denizens of brook and plain were cleaved into two distinct factions, their nature irreversibly transformed. Some became the inquisitive and kind-hearted gnomes, driven by curiosity and a thirst for knowledge. Others, however, succumbed to the darker currents of the Cadence, morphing into murderous and capricious creatures that turned against their kin, leaving behind a trail of smoldering ruins.
Even the gentle herd animals, once docile and serene, were not spared from the Cadence's touch. Teeth and claws sprouted from their formerly harmless forms, turning them into predators that preyed upon those they once called friends. The shape-shifting fae, once masters of transformation, found themselves trapped within singular forms, forever bound by the limitations imposed upon them.
Though the immortal and revered Aelvar appeared untouched by the physical manifestations brought forth by the Cadence, their fate proved to be a crueller twist of destiny. Initially believing themselves to have been spared from the malevolent horrors inflicted upon their fae brethren, they soon discovered a profound terror awaiting them. The Cadence struck not at their outward form, but at the very essence of their immortal existence, casting a dark shadow upon their eternal nature. With the withering of the Arch-Trees, the foundation of their immortality crumbled, and the weight of their harrowing longevity bore down upon them with relentless force. Time, once an abstract concept, became a tangible Specter haunting their ageless forms. The eldest among them, burdened by the weight of countless years lived, found their vitality sapped, succumbing to the ravages of time in mere moments, their immortal essence waning as they faced mortality's embrace for the first time.
Thus, the Cadence left its mark upon the fae of Evalaw, a legacy of transformation and tragedy that forever shaped their ancestral lineages. From the depths of the earth to the verdant forests, the fae bore witness to a metamorphosis both profound and irrevocable, as the world was remade in the wake of the catastrophic upheaval that had befallen them. But what of the gods and those immortals who should have spared them from this cruel fate?