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[Lore] The exiled realm of Arborea

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[Lore] The exiled realm of Arborea

Post by Elloa on Mon May 16, 2011 10:56 am



Last edited by Elloa on Sun Jun 05, 2011 2:15 pm; edited 9 times in total

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The creation of the World

Post by Elloa on Mon May 16, 2011 11:05 am

The creation of the world



Once upon a time, two Titans were fleeing from a realm of endless strife. The legend says that they managed to escape their reality through a rift, and found themselves in a void. Exhausted from their flight, they lay down to fall asleep. And as they slept, Tera took shape around them.

If you look at a map of the world today, you can see Arun and Shara—their sleeping bodies became the two continents that bear their names. Centuries passed, and deserts, mountains, rivers, and forests grew upon Arun and Shara. Yet still they slept.

Even for an omnipotent titan, every sleep is a chance to dream. As Arun and Shara slept, their dreams came to life—life in the literal sense. Arun’s and Shara’s dreams coalesced into the first living beings to call TERA home. These first creatures, twelve in all, had godlike power. Yet it wasn’t long before schemes and rivalries emerged and the gods were at each other’s throats.
All the while, Arun and Shara continued to dream, and their new dreams took shapes familiar to the gods. These new creatures—the mortals--were far more numerous, but far less powerful.
Arun dreamed of ambitious elves, clever humans, honorbound amani, powerful giants, scheming devas, and mischievous poporis. Shara dreamed of sly sikandari, dark gulas and vampirs, fierce wendigos, strange faeries, and serpentine nagas.

In time, the twelve gods would go to war—first against each other directly, and then drawing the mortal races into their battles. These divine wars left most of the gods dead, imprisoned, or otherwise diminished.


Source : Tera Online, Interview with Marti Mc Kenna


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The Gods

Post by Elloa on Mon May 16, 2011 11:49 am

Arun-Born Gods

Karas
Patron of the Elves, named after him "Children of Karas". Helped enforce peace between Amarun and Zuras. Karas withdrew from the world in anger when his wife Elinu fell into a deep, deathlike sleep following the birth of their children Balder and Ishara. No god would help him revive her, and in retaliation he cursed the Ancient Light, making it no brighter than our moon. Vowing revenge, he disappeared, leaving the elves to their own devices.

Zuras
Goddess, First of the Devas. Waged war against the Amani. Sickened by the necromantic crimes perpetuated by Zuras, the devas clan Castanic fled Arun and made their way to Shara

Gidd
Gidd was both covetous and vain, and prized above all his winged horse, Perios, and his greatspear, Cranos. When he created the first humans, they too coveted Perios and Cranos, and made plans to steal them both to use as leverage to bend the god’s will. Gidd caught them trying to make off with the spear, and was outraged. He poured out his wrath on the humans, cursing them to wander the world for 2,000 years with no hearth nor home.

Amarun
Dragon-God, creator of the Amani race.

Tithus
Tithus created both the giants and the baraka. He supported the giants in their wars of conquest, including the enslavement of the amani. When the baraka divorced themselves from the giant culture, they began to revere Oriyn, the murdered god of knowledge.


Elinu
Youngest of the gods. Once called Mother Nature, she is the goddess of Generosity. With her divine essence, she created the Elin. Married to Karas, Elinu fell into a deep, deathlike sleep following the birth of their children Balder and Ishara. No god would help revive her.
Elinu is resting within the sacred lake of Pora Elinu. No mortal can reach her. It's possible Karas left something behind to deter the mortals, and even the gods, from desecrating her.


Shara-Born Gods

Sikander/Shikander
He sealed away his own power and went into deep slumber after his lover Isren was killed.
The phoenix, first of the Sikandari.

Gomo
Dark master of the Gulas and Vampirs

Ur,
God of the Wendigos

Isren
Queen of the Faeries, she was once a Goddess of Peace, however she was dragged into the War of the Gods and was murdered.

Saleron/Shaleron
Lord of Prions, he had been once the Leader of all Gods but after the loss in the War he became a prisoner by his son Killiun and was incarcerated.

Dagon
God of Snakes and the creator of the Yuanti Race. Known as the father of the serpentine Naga, Dagon killed the Baraka God of Wisom, Oriyn.
His old temples and ruins remain around the world still.




Children of the Gods, Other Gods


Balder
Child of Elinu and Karas. Lok had forged the Crown of Phanes to cure Balder, but instead it killed him.

Ishara

Kaia
Helped free the Amani from slavery. God of Warriors.The goddess Kaia had long held warfare classes for young amani in the city center's open plaza. Kaia and her young students defended Kaiator during its first and only breach by Argon siege drills. Several hundred workers and students died in the plaza. A hundred soldiers died in tunnels under the city, driving away the argons before other drills could surface. Only five students survived.

Lok
As the giants plotted to rebuild their empire, the amani prayed for deliverance. Their own god had long since abandoned them, but Kaia took pity on them and asked Lok to intervene. Lok and his deva artisans could not resist the puzzle of an unbreakable seal. After three years of work, Lok gave the amani the keys of freedom.
His Crown of Phanes, supposed to cure Balder, killed the God. It's not known if Lok had been decieved or had commited a murder aware about his acts.
The Amanis have a shared advices concerning Lok, and this is a subject often discussed.

Nerezzar
A necromancy practicing god worshipped by the devas.

Oriyn
God of Wisdom and knowledge, revered by the Barrakas once they left the brutal giants culture. Had been killed by Dagon, god of the nagas.

Velik
Current patron of Humans and Goddess of the Hunt and of Bravery. She offered Humans a home after they were cursed by their creator, Gidd.
Velik, tired of the Divine War, vowed to end violence within the vicinity of her city. Velika's reputation as a place of peace spread throughout Arun and Shara, and refugees from wars elsewhere traveled there. But racial tension rose until a civil war broke loose.
The violence outside her palace infuriated Velik. As the sun set over the burning city, Velik stalked the streets, ending anyone with the temerity to break her proclamation. Hundreds died on that "Night of Black Arrows"—human and nonhuman alike.

Selen/Seren
Goddess of the Moon, the lakes and the Guardian of Elementals. She is the protector of the Popori race.The latest Mysterium research suggests that the goddess Seren has taken on the task of making spirit into flesh.

Mystel
A wandering Goddess able to foresee the future. She is always delivering the will of the Gods.

Source : Tera Online forums, Tera Europe, Pagsius express


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The invasion of the Argons and the Valkyon federation

Post by Elloa on Wed May 18, 2011 12:25 am



The Invasion of the Argons

Thirty years ago, the Argons appeared for the first time in Northrend Shara. Those metalic, techno organic creatures were destroying everything on their way. They didn't wanted to invade the lands, and build a Argon Empire on theirs ruins. They simply wanted eradicate everything. Terraforming with violence the land, they were literaly destroying the flesh of the sleeping titan. They appeared out of nowhere and the invasion was so fast that many kingdoms were attacked before they even knew about them. The proud city of Kaiator, the Amani capital, blessed by the Goddess Kaia, resisted their assault and broke the inexorable forward march of the invaders. The Argons managed to push forward to south, and arrived at the gates of the main Elven city : Allemantheia. The High Elves who had been till then an enclosed and proud nation, hidding behind their Walls, understood and decided to end their isolationism. They fought with excellence and bravery and joined the military alliance which had just been formed to stop the Argons invasion.


The Valkyon Federation

In response to that threat, the six civilasated races unified to stop the Argon invasion in a military organisation. The new generation of humanity, naturaly talented for diplomatie after two thousand years spend roaming arround the world, has helped to forge the Valkyon Federation to guarantee a lasting union between the mortal races. Solidifying alliances with the mystic Barakas, the proud Amani, and the imperial High Elves, Humankind has worked toward improving their relations with all of the races of the world, willingly acting as political mediators and ambassadors between the races to help encourage a peaceable union for all.
The Valkyon Federation toke more and more importance along the years and started to become more than just a convenient military organization technique, it started to become a political one as well, leaded by a small comitee.

The heroes of Arborea belong to the first generation that sees racial unity as an advantage and is living in an integrated society.




Source : Interview with David Noonan, Tera fan wiki, Tera leveling Guide


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The Slayer Spark

Post by Elloa on Wed May 18, 2011 1:27 am



Jahangir came out of his reverie, turned around, and looked down. A castanic slayer arched an eyebrow as she looked up and tapped her foot. Jahangir blanched, then clapped his fist over his chest to salute. "Well met! It's an honor to serve with the Vanguards. I'm grateful for the chance to prove myself. My name is-"

The castanic held up a closed hand, the signal for silence, as she shook her head. "Save it, Tiny. I don't care about your name. Not yet. You're not here to serve as a poet, herald, or bureaucrat, so save the fancy words. You're proud, I get it. You're amani. Comes with the territory." She looked Jahangir up and down. "Equipment check. Boots, sword, armor."

Jahangir nodded. The training leathers reeked of old sweat and showed deep cuts and bloodstains. The greatsword, on the other hand, looked new. No notches in the blade's edge, no pits from rust, and the grip was freshly wrapped.

The castanic consulted a scroll, then dropped it with a snort
. "Let's keep this simple. You got your boots on, you can walk into battle. I'm Isaura. Do what I say, when I say, how I say. A pint of sweat saves a gallon of blood, so let's get going." Isaura turned and walked toward the practice field without another word. Jahangir hefted his greatsword and hurried after her.

"This is the Vanguards, Tiny. We're not infantry. We're reconnaissance and intelligence. The eyes and ears of the Valkyon Federation," Isaura explained over her shoulder. "It takes all kinds to make an army, but slayers make good scouts. We travel light, we hit hard, we're fast on our feet."

Jahangir couldn't argue with that. Isaura only came up to Jahangir's chest, but he practically had to double-time it to keep up with his mentor.



"Despite the greatsword, we're not mindless reapers who cut down foes without thinking. Any fool can swing a slab of metal. It takes skill to use your weapon to its greatest effect." As she spoke, Isaura casually unslung her own blade, then leaped into the air, coming down in a strike that would have knocked more than a few foes off their feet. "You have to choose your moment, when to follow up-" Isaura pivoted on one foot and swung the blade in a whirling strike, "-and when to focus your power!" The final strike would have eviscerated anything in its way.

Isaura's economical, focused movements led from one into the next. Jahangir tried to follow her lead, but his own attacks lacked Isaura's grace. He felt foolish and clumsy.


"In the Vanguards, we work with warriors. Lancers and berserkers have a hard time keeping up with us in the field, so you'll learn to follow warriors through their little dance, and do them one better. They grab something's attention, we tear it up from behind. Just like our twin-bladed cousins, we have to dodge out of trouble, rather than depend on a layer of metal between us and our enemies. The only thing leather armor does is keep our corpses in one piece for the recovery detail. I mean, think about it. It's not like it kept the original owner alive."

Jahangir chuckled. He liked this feisty veteran.

"So why are you here?" Isaura stared up at him.

"I am here to serve the needs of the-"

"I'm not some scribe from the Velika Guardian or the Castanica Chronicle. Speak plainly. I'm a soldier, just like you. I'm a slayer, just like you. Do you know how many old slayers there are?"

Jahangir's eyes darted around as he looked for a clue.

"Don't bother. It's damned few." Isaura spun the amani around. "Look over there, Tiny." Warriors and archers jogged around the compound, mystics, priests, and sorcerers miserably stumbling behind. "This is a recon outfit. The Vanguards are the first to fight, the tip of the spear. Slayers, however, are more than scouts-we're heavy hitters. When things go bad, we stand to. When it's time to retreat, we're the last to go. We fight, and die, that others may live." Isaura's voice dropped. "If you're here for the wrong reasons, you'll get someone else killed. Nobody cares if you die-you're still a keener with a spanking new blade. But if the mystic or priest buys the farm because you're playing hero, we're just pieces of meat waiting to fall. Now, why are you here?"

Jahangir stood quietly , eyes closed tightly as he gathered his thoughts. Isaura waited, which surprised him. "I'm here because the sky isn't meant to be black-green. I'm here because children shouldn't grow up in fear. I'm here because I've seen the wastelands along the argon front. The lives and dreams of so many are simply gone." Jahangir's eyes opened and narrowed as he bared his fangs. "Not again, not if I can help it," he snarled.



Isaura stared at him for a moment, then barked out a laugh. "Not bad, Tiny. You'll do." She grinned, then snarled, "Attack! Attack!"

Jahangir leaped forward, copying Isaura's movements, marveling at her speed. Her attacks seemed to chain together, fast and graceful and deadly. His own blade felt unbalanced, his swings too wide, his dodges too slow. Still, he ran through the forms again and again, while Isaura snarled out critiques. His blade was too high, his stance too narrow, his blade was too low-the list of faults seemed endless.

"That'll do. Drink this." Jahangir caught the flying waterskin and drained it.

"You're not bad, Tiny. Better than most keeners we see. You learn quickly. I like that. Remember, mind and body are one. If your will is powerful, your body can do amazing things. If your body is weak, your mind will be weak. You'll weary sooner. You'll lose that burning spark all slayers must nurture. You want to protect people? Great. That's your spark. Never let it go out, and let it fuel you when the odds are against you. Harness that power, Tiny. Savor it." Isaura quickly drained her own waterskin, then cast it aside. "All right, that's enough dawdling. Let's go again, and I want to hear that blade whistling through the air!"

"Wait, please!" Jahangir cocked his head, studied Isaura carefully. "Why are you a slayer?"



Isaura stared at her weapon for a long moment, her face a stony mask. She idly ran her finger along the greatsword's edge. "Because I used to have a daughter."

Source : Massively


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Amani Lore

Post by Elloa on Sun May 22, 2011 12:33 am


The Amani are the descendants of dragons, a race forged in a history of war and slavery, characterized by honour and spirit as steadfast as their stature. Recognizable by their scale like skin, ominous presence, and protruding horns, the Amani appearance reminds any one of the hardships endured by this race.
Amarun , the Arun-born god, created the honour bound Amani, a race of fierce soldiers fearless of battle. With contest for land war broke out across TERA between the gods and their armies for years to come. When the humans’ patron Gidd cursed his people (for the attempted theft of his winged horses Perios and Cranos) the Amani led by Amarun went to war with the Devas and their goddess Zuras for control of the unruled human lands.
The Devas proved worthy adversaries and as a result the war greatly weakened both races until finally with the intervention of Karas, the patron of the elves, enforced peace and prohibited the gods Amarun and Zuras from interfering from that point on with their peoples battles. Therefore, the Amani were left weakened by war and unprotected by their patron; an opportunity duly noticed by others.


Enslaved

The giants, a race which had risen to great power, admired the strength and usefulness of the Amani and enslaved their entire race with an unbreakable Seal of Obedience, binding them and ensuring their loyalty. For a thousand years the Amani slaves were forced to fight for the giants and were bred by them for strength and battle. In addition, Amarun, unable to intervene, abandoned the Amani leaving them helpless to their eternal slavery. With the Amani in their control the Holy Empire of the Giants grew in power and as such developed a feeling of invincibility, mocking the very gods who created them with their hubris. However, this lack of respect offended the gods. In response to this insult the gods destroyed the giants in a single day known as the “Day of Flame”.
Even with almost all the giants killed the wrath of the gods could not free the Amani from the unbreakable Seal of Obedience and many thousands of Amani burned in the flames as they continued to unwillingly defend their hated masters. Those giants who survived this wrath fled into exile in the glacial wastes of northern Shara where they plotted to rebuild their empire. The surviving Amani forced to follow into the north prayed for deliverance from the gods. While Amarun could not intervene and had long since abandoned them another god, Kaia, took pity and came to their Aid. Kaia asked Lok (both children of the originally twelve gods) to aid her in freeing the Amani from their unbreakable seal with the help of his deva artisans. The request to solve the impossible puzzle could not be resisted by Lok. For three years he worked with the devas to break the seal, and finally the Amani were given their freedom, and the giants were given their retribution.
The Amani tore through the giants destroying everything with swift, deadly, practiced, precision. The giants had created battle machines, which were now unleashed upon them with a vengeance, ultimately obliterating the giants very existence. It was on this spot where the Amani erected their main city Kaiator in honour of their saviour Kaia.



Kaiator and the Argon Invasion

Kaiator, the Iron Bastion of The North, stands as a symbol of the Amani’s freedom embodies the Aman oath never to be chained again. In the centre of the dome encompassing the city, a massive statue of Kaia honours her dedication to their people. Much like the Amani themselves, much of the beauty of Kaiator comes from its rough, impenetrable strength.
Centuries after its construction, a new threat from the north would test the walls of Kaiator. Massive mechanical machines and a metallic race to be known as the Argons had erupted from the earth at the northernmost tip of Shara. Catching small shattered kingdoms off guard, the first waves of attack outpaced even the news of their arrival. Soon, floods of people migrating south to avoid the onslaught of the Argon found themselves at the gates of Kaiator: the rock against which all waves break. While the Amani people could have closed the off their gates and force the refugees to continue past, they instead a choice: a bunk to anyone who could fight or earn their keep; or clean hydrothermal water, rations, and a clear road south as long as Kaiator could hold it. This generous offer also gained a sense of responsibility to those defending the fortress and garnered a fierce dedication to keeping the walls from the Argon force



Siege

Only once did the argons penetrate the city. The goddess Kaia had long held warfare classes for the young amani in the city center’s open plaza. They could exercise at the heart of the city without disturbing busy soldiers far away at the outer walls. When the Argon drill head pierced the flagstones, they reacted with precision. Runners sprinted to the baracks, shouting the news the whole way. As their teacher leapt on the Argon soldiers emerging from the drill, students smoothly flanked them.
As workers from nearby foundries arrived, the drill belched a cloud of blue-black greasy gas that gushed along the ground like water, rapidly filling the courtyard. The argons' native atmosphere, concentrated, blistered skin and burned lungs. Workers charged in to defend Kaia until they either fell back with bleeding eyes, or simply fell. But the students stayed. In the cloud's heart, they blocked the drill's gas vents with their bodies, one lying atop while others jammed in rags or hammered and bent ducts to choke them, to save their city and protect their freedom. Several hundred workers and students died in the plaza. A hundred soldiers died in tunnels under the city, driving away the argons before other drills could surface. Only five students survived.



Kaiator, present day

The story of the Breach was surely a factor in Gallian of Velika's call for united defence against the argons. Today, Kaiator is the head of the Valkyon spear, the biggest city on northern Shara and source of the finest armour and weapons mortals can make. The massive iron gates and armoured pegasus flight path shield the region's streaming supply caravans and columns of troops. Soldiers swarm the streets, but there are also artisans and merchants. You may still see young Amani sprinting up flights of steps, carrying water for the forges or simply standing in meditation, all to earn the right to learn from Kaia, who still instructs students today.

Kaiator is the last stop for soldiers, both before and often after combat. Heroes killed in battle are cremated in its largest foundry, the Crucible, an honour first bestowed on those who died in the Breach. Each name is inscribed on a bolt or rivet for the city's colossal walls and buttresses. Starting with the Breach, many Castanic, Popori, human, and even elven names are listed, but only two Barakas: Kulmar and Bororu, a married couple working the foundry on the day of the Breach. It is a signal honour for two giant-kin to be so remembered.
Living well in Kaiator is to live as an Aman, to fight for your freedom and defend your neighbour as yourself. Amani don't tolerate bullying. You earn power through loyalty and skill or not at all. It's an unforgiving place, but one of camaraderie and opportunity if you prove trustworthy. It's very dangerous to be a thief in Kaiator, though not unheard of. It's not shameful to profit by cunning, but theft is a breach of trust and deeply dishonourable. Any race is welcome, though Barakas still draw sidelong looks.
People go to Kaiator to perfect their fighting skills. They go to defend their people. They go to arm themselves. Those who stay do so in the cause of freedom, and because they find dignity, honour, and wealth mean more when you sweat for them together.



Source: TeraLore.com


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Castanics Lore

Post by Elloa on Sun May 22, 2011 10:41 am



Small in stature with reddish skin, sharp - although largely ornamental - horns, and long ears, castanics possess an indomitable will that belies their devilish appearance. They have more hair color variety than any other race, although their most common hair color is white. Independent and self-sufficient, castanics tend to rely upon their innate individual strengths. They are cunning, strong, and agile, and make great scouts and spies.

Since the fall of their god during the Divine War, castanics have suffered prejudice and oppression. Like the elves, they have a dark history, and the castanic inclination toward fierce independence and dark humor makes many uneasy around them. Still, castanics are an integral part of the federation, valued, if uneasy, allies.





Background

Clan Castanic is one of the original clans of devas, famed for their crafting skills. Most devan clans served the gods Zuras or Nerezzar, both of whom practiced necromancy and other dark arts. Clan Castanic broke away from the rest of the devas after witnessing the necromantic horrors perpetuated under their leadership, while the other clans forged the Devan Empire. They fled Arun and made their way to Shara where they founded their capital Deva Victrix . Clan Castanic eventually petitioned the demon-god Lok for his patronage. Lok was far less bloodthirsty than Zuras or Nerezzar, more self-serving rather than world-conquering in his outlook. He accepted the castanics and shielded them for a long time, taking them under his wing, partially for their skill as renowned artisans, and partially to annoy Zuras. Kaia and Ishara both asked Lok to put vaunted castanic artisans to work on projects for them, something Lok enjoyed.




Fallen in disgrace

To cure the veneered god Balder, Lok demanded to the Castanic to forge the Crown of Phanes. The Castanic poured their own blood, infused their skill and their magic into the artifact. But the crown was not a cure, it was a trap, and the beloved Balder died. Cursed for what they had done, the Castanic wear since then dark marks slashing their flesh.
The clan gathered in the great hall known as the Forge of Fate, and argued about what to do. It has been decided that the Clan Castanic would turn their back to the Gods who had used them, and abandoned them in a critical situation. They fled Deva Victrix and Shara for Arun, taking the chance the humans were unorganized to move quickly through their lands.

"We stand alone, together. We forge our destiny and fate be damned!"





Castanica : the Shrouded Rose

Nestled in a craggy vale along the eastern coast of Arun, Castanica is the dark heart of Clan Castanic. Smaller and less populous than Velika, the dark city almost crackles with desperate, passionate energy. Good and evil are concepts debated over spiced wine, not matters pertaining to a bargain. Castanics work hard and keep their word, but they're also the first to tap the kegs and dance their clothes off. Anything can be found in Castanica—for the right price.
Glowing red signs and arcane projections break up the dark gloom that blankets the city, but just barely. Strange glyphs float in the air, crimson domes and spires glimmer over the rooftops, and the sacred Shrouded Rose welcomes visitors through the southern gate. Nearby, a lurid arcanasculpt of a castanic slayer dominates the skyline.
Castanica is not a city for the genteel. Its fierce, dark countenance, much like its inhabitants, can be off-putting, and yet there's a harsh beauty under the surface. Castanics are cunning, sensual, independent, and resilient, and the city's design reflects this. Thorny architecture, dark metalworks, and the passion-inflaming crimson lighting mark the unusually fine line between beauty and danger.



History

Relatively recently, the clan arrived in the sweltering jungles of the eastern coast and began anew.
A slayer named Callida found the perfect valley for their new home. It was easily defended--ensuring the clan would never have to flee again--yet spacious enough that residents had some breathing room, an important consideration for these passionate, fiery people. The clan threw itself into construction work: tunnels were carved through the mountains, great forges smelted metals for construction, and arcanists worked night and day to give the new city the comforting crimson glow castanics so appreciate.

Within a generation, the cold-forged metals and carefully worked stone framed a city of mysterious beauty. Only the exposure overhead bothered the castanics, who preferred to work in secrecy. The arcanists banded together to permanently enshroud the city in a dark, gloomy—yet comforting—mist. Nestled in their new cocoon, the clan prepared to carve out a new future on Arun.



War of the Rose

The new settlers did not go unnoticed. Singular weapons and even more exceptional women lured neighboring slaver syndicates and pirates to the city. The promise of such rich plunder combined with the city's strategic advantages made it an irresistible target, and the brigands all wanted it for their own. The skirmishes began, and the intruders quickly learned just how defensible the city was. Pirate and slaver deaths mounted swiftly, yet the castanics suffered few casualties, and Castanica stood fast.

Enraged, the pirates enlisted the aid of the demons and abominations of Fyrmount. One particular demon lord, Immoltarus, knew of the castanics and coveted their skills for his own infernal purposes. A deal was struck: the demons would gain ownership of the castanics, while the city would belong to the pirates. Two thousand demons, pirates, and slavers marched on Castanica, opposed only by three hundred castanic soldiers.

Immoltarus led the charge that shattered the first line of defense. The castanics retreated back into their tunnels, inch by bloody inch. The mountains shook with arcane might and echoed the screams of the wounded. With slow determination, the demons forced the castanics back until they rallied beneath the arch of the Shrouded Rose. Blood pooled in the streets, fire and destruction hammered at the arch, but the castanics held the line. For three exhausting days, the castanics battled the invaders until the tide abruptly turned. A trio of sorcerers sundered Immoltarus's magical defenses, leaving the demon vulnerable. Callida led the charge and slew the fiery archfiend. The remaining demons abandoned their mortal allies as the castanics counterattacked. Callida's charge routed the slaver assault, and the castanics took a thousand heads. The skulls lined the road to Castanica as a warning for decades afterward.



Castanica Today

Present-day Castanica is known as a city where nearly anything goes. The Federation is an integral part of the city and its government, yet remains apart in many matters. Castanics govern themselves while other races use Federation emissaries and officials to conduct business in Castanica. The rule of thumb for visiting traders is, "Make a deal with castanics and lose to castanics. Make a deal with the Federation and they lose to the castanics." The shrewd traders are well-regarded in all other respects.

With the artisans employed elsewhere, new businesses thrive in Castanica. There are virtually no priests in the city, so mystics do brisk business offering healing services. Castanic information brokers and intelligence networks flourish in these dangerous times and are highly sought after. The Valkyon Federation makes great use of their cunning allies: castanics run nearly half of the Federation's intelligence operations and make up fully a third of the ranks of Vanguard scouts. This agile race also produces skilled archers and warriors as well as some of the finest weapon masters.

Castanica skulks between the darkness and the light. Untold opportunities await those bold enough to strike out and seize their destinies. Some castanics seek power and glory--for themselves or for the clan as a whole. They ally themselves with anyone convenient . . . or anyone they can use. For those with strength, cunning, and luck, Castanica remains a city of tremendous opportunity, particularly for black market goods and services. Federation merchants sell their goods in Castanica and buy contraband legally from the fiery-skinned traders.

Pirates and slavers, no longer eyeing the city as a prize to be won, provide a prime source of information.

The Shrouded Rose continues to glow, and the proud people of the city take their place on the world stage.

Source : Tera Online, Interveiw with Marty McKenna , Massively


Last edited by Elloa on Sun Jun 05, 2011 3:37 pm; edited 1 time in total
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High Elves Lore

Post by Elloa on Sun Jun 05, 2011 2:03 pm

High Elves



Children of Karas - The Flower of Life

Elves were once living peacefully, keeping their ancestral forest, under the patronnage of the God Karas. To celebrate the marriage of Karas with the Goddess Elinu, the elves crafted the Flower of Life, distilling their power into a simple Flower. Proud of the arcane abilities of his children, Karas invested some divine power into the flower.

Later, during the Divine War, the god Sikander pursued his nephew Nerezza across their lands, the tremendous energies used in their fight killed thousands of elves and damaged the elves' greatest treasure. The Flower of Life began leeching the land around their home, turning the Elven Forest into a lifeless waste.
To keep the devastation from spreading, the elves transferred the flower’s magic into a sorcerous lattice they call the Core. All that dangerous power is now contained within the Core—under the control of an elf who sacrifices a normal life to become one with the Core and control it.

But the environment-damaging aspect of the Flower was not something they could fix or control, and the debate over how best to proceed created a greater rift in the already politically charged culture of the elves. One faction, led by the Archmage Cerion maintained that to give up the Core would be giving up their cultural and spiritual identity. The opposing view was that the Flower's energies should be safely returned to the world over time, ending the danger it posed to all life and willingly sacrificing much of the elves' magical might. The High elves and the Wind elves were born in a conflit which ended in a civil war. The high elves won, but feelings are still so raw that they rarely even mention the wind elves—if any still exist.
The elves moved the seat of their culture from Arun to Shara, founding their great city of Allemantheia in a region full of the resources necessary to rebuild what they had lost.



Imperialism

During this time of societal upheaval, the High Elves were involved in several military campaigns, most notably against the Nagas in the jungle of southern Shara during the years -5 VC to 75 VC. These "Liberation Campaigns" were highly successful, despite the supposed superiority of the Nagas' ability to conduct jungle warfare.
Shortly after their victory against the Nagas, the High Elven "Grand Spire Army" sought to conquer the areas of northern Shara.
A hundred years ago, the high elves invaded the human territory of Essenia. The amani, poporis, and baraka stood with the humans, and the elves were forced to abandon their conquest. It had been three thousand years since they had lost a war, and this defeat reverberated through the elven culture in a way thirty centuries of victories had not. They withdrew from the world after this devastating loss against a force of allied races. A century of seclusion ended when the gates of Allemantheia opened to refugees fleeing the argon invasion.



Valkyrion Federation

The High Elves won their place on the Federation with the blood of their soldiers, sacrificing countless lives for bloodshed. Even though the High Elves are now official members of the Federation, they are still mistrusted by most of the mortal races, particuliary the Amani, who believe that the High Elves will never fully be integrated and will never wholly adhere to the “New Way”.
Despite this, the High Elves have been generous, opening the gates of their desert fortress to allow refugees from all races to come to their city for safety. The High Elves constructed a vast and powerful army to combat the malicious Argons.


Arrogance and Elegance

Today the elves are viewed with cautious optimism by other federation races, as within living memory they were at war with nearly everyone. That said, their commitment to the federation is heartfelt and real, and has become a necessary part of their very lives and their ancient culture. Each elf is expected to represent the entire race in their new philosophy of "forward, together, and strong."
The high elves would certainly say that they’re the mainstay of the Valkyon Federation. It also probably troubles the high elves a little that the Valkyon Federation was a human idea and it’s based in a human city. In any case, the high elves are nothing if not forward-looking. “Let’s see who’s the mainstay of the Valkyon Federation five years from now,” they might say.
Their manner of dress and and tendency to enhance their looks is done in a beautiful and slick way. Hairstyles are very modern; their jewelry is likewise. In addition, all their body language is very sophisticated and neat. Which leads the High Elves to appear very calm and serene. It should be noted that culture has made them a little vain and cocky, though they would never let any of their Valkion allies down.



Allemantheia: The Desert Jewel



From the heart of Shara rises an elegant, majestic city of light. Surrounded by stark extremes of environment, Allemantheia's tall spires, dramatic water sculptures, and soaring streets seem less like a homeland and more like a monument to independent thought.

This is the city of the elves, center of their culture and racial identity. Built soon after their arrival on Shara, it reflects much of the people it represents. Aloof, mysterious, unknowable, visitors to the city have been known to stop and stare at some feature for hours, then suddenly realize the statue they've been studying is actually a doorway.

There is a logic to the city's construction—elven logic, carefully crafted and refined over hundreds of years. Foot traffic flows like mighty rivers across deep canyons of stone, bridging the great lake at its base and connecting all things of importance to visitors. But this is but the surface of Allemantheia's wonders. Behind the high walls is the true home of the elves, hidden away from the sight of those not fortunate enough to be born to that race. Whatever mysteries drive them to such secrecy we can only guess at; even with no elves in sight, the city is uniquely theirs.


History

The elves, or "high elves" as their current philosophy names them, have a history both ancient and at the same time not much older than the city they inhabit. When the gods made war on one another, the elves took no sides—their own divine patron, Karas, had been absent for many generations. Their allies the giants and the poporis were involved enough for both races, and as the conflict escalated, life on Arun was nearly laid to waste.

The giants' empire in ruins and their former slaves the amani locked in a death struggle with the newly created orcans and kobolds—these are reasons enough for anyone to leave a warzone, but not the elves. They had kept their forest safe and independent for thousands of years. It took something far more devastating to make them migrate—the total destruction of their way of life.

When the god Sikander pursued his nephew Nerezza across their lands, the tremendous energies used in their fight killed thousands of elves. Even this was survivable, but the battle also damaged the elves' greatest treasure, the Flower of Life. This ultimate expression of elven magic and the symbol of their devotion to the god Karas began leeching the land around their home, turning the Elven Forest into a lifeless waste.

To contain the runaway energies of the damaged artifact, many sorcerers gave their lives to create a device capable of safely harnessing its power. But the environment-damaging aspect of the Flower was not something they could fix or control, and the debate over how best to proceed created a greater rift in the already politically charged culture of the elves. One faction (led by the Archmage Cerion) maintained that to give up the Flower of Life (now referred to as "the Core") would be giving up their cultural and spiritual identity. The opposing view was that the Flower's energies should be safely returned to the world over time, ending the danger it posed to all life and willingly sacrificing much of the elves' magical might. There was one issue both groups agreed on: the gods were responsible for their problem, and no god could make it right. As their last unified action, the elves renounced the gods entirely, choosing to make their own way through life based on the strength of their convictions, instead of faith in cruel and capricious "higher" beings.

Thus were the high elves born, and when the armed conflicts surrounding the disposition of the Core grew too dangerous to bear, they moved the seat of their culture from Arun to Shara, founding their great city of Allemantheia in a region full of the resources necessary to rebuild what they had lost.


The Mysterium

Little is known about the Mysterium, other than that it is based in Allemantheia and was instrumental in turning back the argon tide. Ostensibly a union of magical disciplines from across Tera, its secretive and often incomprehensible motives brand it a perfect organization for the elves who champion it.

The spiritual successor to the Holy Empire's Council of Magic, members of the Mysterium can be found in any place of “ancient” power, in every major city of the federation, walking alongside dusty desert roads, and wherever they are least expected. They seek to understand, not control, though they are the first to act when one of their “own” uses magic for some nefarious purpose.



Allemantheia Today

A common saying among elves is "we remember." Allemantheia is a self-contained city-state, not just politically, but functionally. Hidden within its tall walls and towers is the true home of the elves, one glimpsed only by trusted friends and associates. Never again will the elven people be threatened by outside forces. Inside their meticulously carved chambers they live industrious and private lives, illuminated by hidden conduits channeling and enhancing the light of Balder's eyes above.

Visitors to the city enjoy large spaces devoted to their needs, but are not granted easy access to the lower levels. Under the wide paths walked by other races are areas reserved for elves to wander and appreciate the beauty their ancestors created out of a sandy wasteland. Indeed, it's surprising that there are any spaces at all for non-elves to enjoy—the city was closed to outsiders for generations, only opening recently to refugees of the argon encroachments to the north. Most adult elven residents either marched north to fight the invasion, or know someone who did and never came back. Amongst the hidden wonders of the city is an area where each elf that lost his life to bring about the dream of "unification" with other races is remembered in quiet contemplation.

Three towering gates offer access to the city's broad avenues from the blistering desert outside the walls, and on a fourth "corner" the Mysterium maintains two areas for pegasus travelers from across the continents. Based on only the friendly smiles and open arms, one might never guess that not so very long ago, non-elven visitors could expect a very different—and much more violent—reception.




Source : High Elf discussion – Tera PVP, World Lore: Allementhia, Tera leveling guide, Tera fan wiki Tera online



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