The history of the world of Atlantis
The tavern... Sometimes it seems this is something that unites the universe. All over the world, in different worlds, the tavern, always a tavern. Different people finds in it a refuge from bad weather or night, the food in the thickness of the purse is divided into the greed of the owner of the yard. Everyone will find here the interlocutor in the shower or a quiet corner to rest and think.
Tonight was no different from thousands of others I have met in a large number of other places, where the people flocked with the onset of twilight. To fire, simple strepne company, and of course the stories of the minstrel, whose story passed no night. He sits in the far corner under the extinguished torch, and the glow of the fireplace created a whimsical play of shadows on his face. The flames seemed to be affectionately attracted to it. Plucking the strings and singing a melancholy song in a strange language, he waited for the ritual invitations to narrative. According to tradition, which I have not violated in any of the worlds who asked for the history shared with the bard dinner. I was a little, but there was something... I wanted to hear his story and began to light the kindling over it and give the beginning of the story.
Bypassing him, still sitting and humming, I touched my purse, rare copper rang and his hand stopped my: "don't bother, my good man, my story is not worth it to pay for her last...But you'll hear it so sit next to me" – and then he looked at the torch and on it a light flashed.
Fire mage...And a minstrel... a Strange combination, which further sparked my curiosity, I accepted the invitation to sit and the corner of his eye noted that his purse full of my many times. She could only hope that stories affect his own destiny, so as to direct the narrative, I could not, did not invite him formally to the beginning. As imperceptibly his mournful melody flowed in a calm storytelling and the people gathered here today, sensitively responding to this was to move the bench closer, to sit, to smoke pipes and to fill the mug.
Slowly he began to tell:
"The story I want to tell you about those who we call Gods. Listen carefully – as if it's a true story...
A long time ago, in a time which cannot even be imagined, there was only the ball that was signed by all of creation. And there was nothing he could compare the sphere was big and small, dark and light, everything and nothing.
Millions of years passed, the ball began to grow in size and at the same time began to appear the two forces. Slowly, but they grew and eventually divided into White Light and Darkness. The white Light took a female form and called itself she. The darkness made men and gave himself the name of Kain. These two entities have created the universe and everything that exists now".
Frankly, I was annoyed, I knew this story, and not that she was uninteresting, but I've heard it many times in different parts in different way. Unfortunately, to do this I had nothing, he "invited" himself directed the course of the story. But suddenly he stopped and sat still so long that many visitors began to exchange glances, and someone so blatantly twisted a finger at a temple.
"You know," just as suddenly as it stopped, he continued, "I think this story the old-timers have heard many times, and she managed to annoy, I'll tell you another, I hope it will amuse them and will be much more useful for beginners. My name is wanderer, and it will be the history of the world, which I saw, as I saw her.
The Gods do not hear us
Gods they are not good and not evil, they're just gods. They do not matter to us. The war between them lasts from the moment of creation and they brought in all the forces and all his creatures. This confrontation shook the foundations of the once beautiful universe, created them, and it broke up into many worlds, some of them almost indistinguishable from each other, some as different as water and fire.
In addition, many of them became unstable, upheaval of a different sort, some of the worlds blur in the dust, and other regular shifts. To this type belongs, and this is where fate brought us together, the world of Atlantis. Someone born here, someone here fate, but started all the same helplessness of a baby. Simply, those who came here from other worlds remembered them.
It so happened that I was born in it, it was the first world in which I recognized myself that I remember of course about the gods I didn't know anything. And before that changed I had no one to cross the borderline and to go not in the same world, but first the world forever remains the first, it will confirm even those whose original worlds long ago engulfed the chaos. As some of you I met the night in the tavern, where I was told about a confrontation between the gods and the clashes of their supporters. I think, like you, I did not choose then any which way. This war seemed so distant and does not concern me. I just lived here and grew up, the latter became a problem. What I thought I was not concerned, had their own opinion on this matter, as clearly gave to understand as soon as I turned 20, sending a curse every time I appeared in villages or towns. The curse weighed heavily and had to choose. However the choice of the young and hot to be reduced to simple: "Fight for her". So it was that the curse that have not been cancelled a long time, but I knew that for me it is. Now that sounds funny even to me, but then everything looked different. So I joined in opposition to the gods, thereby undermining even more the already fragile foundations of peace.
Keepers
Justify me if this can be an excuse, only that I was young, inexperienced and saw that everybody did so. Although then I probably lied. There were those who found a different path in this world. They became his guardians. Met anyone who was born in this world or whom the way of destiny brought here from other worlds. It turned out that they are involved in the appearance of each and often accompany care: Zeus, Athena, Nemesis – those whom I personally saw more often than others. Each with their own personality and demeanor. They have much to do with the confrontation of the gods, wars of dusk and dawn. They just store the universe of that piece of reality, which was to protect them. For their work, many call them gods, but for me they have always been the Guardians for the gods, not to us, and they are ready to respond and help was never deaf to a clear and reasonable requests, reasonable offers.
It was appreciated by all who experienced more than one shift in this world. Every time the Guardians first sounded the alarm and did everything possible to minimize losses and to alleviate the consequences of each of them. Personally, I particularly memorable shift of the world when he was called a strange name C4. Perhaps because he was the most prolonged and gradual. The old world was slowly swallowed up by chaos, its open spaces gradually arose the monstrous creation from the primary villages. In the end, they filled all the way to the capital. The guardians from the beginning of the shift sharpened the distinction between the past and the future, and started to save the world population, for which they took responsibility, sending them to the new one. The refugees had to leave part of the acquired belongings, the line could not miss everything. I stayed on this side until the end and never regretted it. The sight of the crash the world was really very interesting and impressive, but in the end the onslaught of hordes of monsters, too, crossed the line between past and future. Alas, it was time to do everything, and the fate of those who remained there is unknown to me. Even the keepers couldn't hold back the hordes of monsters of chaos, and, departing, they restored the line, crossing which became for us salvation.
Often after each new shift perturbation expansions led to imbalances and representatives of one or another way forces gained advantage over the other, and then the guardians were doing their best to bring peace at least to the semblance of some balance.
For their work, they asked not so much to comply with reasonable rules of the world. With whom I became acquainted after the first and the only punishment received from the laconic, but always fast Nemesis. It was amusing to see on this background another distemper, which at different times raised from individual characters to entire clans. Threatening to leave and take people to other worlds, impose any ultimatums, challenged the decision. Wave them now, hand Union, Dragons and other things. They are not, and the world is without them.
Realizing that to stop the war, pleasing to the gods, they can not, the Keepers sometimes cunning distract the orcs, elves, Kamala and people from the conflict, eroding the pillars of the universe. Distract just dragging them in any tournament or artificial storm-the opposition is not able anyone to harm.
In addition, even though they do not possess divine powers, but is able, for a fee, to make your weapons sharper or give him extra magical powers, to strengthen your armor. Each of them has its own personality, demeanor and conversation, a penchant for any kind of action.
Morning
He did not sing, but rather just told the story, slowly pulling the strings of his instrument creating any tranquil background sound. His gaze was all the time staring at the fireplace, he looked for the forgotten names, faces, events, flipping through the pages of history who was swallowed in the flames of the past. Some of the assembled people for a long time snoring, someone is resettled and discussed in the opposite corner of their own, but many listened. I think in my head they wandered hundreds of questions in mine, which I was sure would remain unanswered. How very suddenly cocks crowed, and the wanderer, as he called himself, looked up from the fire and looked out the window. "It seems the torch long since burned out" – he said scooping a handful of ash from the fire, the fire of course was not touched, the magician has entered into a Covenant with him, "And I have to finish the story, but I'll be happy to meet with you for the vastness of this or the other world. I don't fight anymore".
Without saying another word, he picked up and slung over the back of a duffel bag left on the table untouched for a pair of gold dinner and came under the just beginning to lighten the sky. And I cherished the hope that the last words were addressed to me, and that we really will meet again.
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This original story was written based on the universe of the fantasy game L2-Atlantis.
To be continued ...