Immortals

The Forsaken Lands are overseen by a group of beings who have been elevated from the masses. From their lofty perch among the heavens they watch down over their flock, delivering unto them both woe and weal.

If you feel that you are plagued with a matter that requires divine intervention, 'pray' your concern to the heavens above, and if your problem is judged worthy, you will be granted audience. Be warned wrath of the offended God upon your head. however... Beseeching the heavens for paltry matters will bring the

Should you require to scribe a scroll to all of the Immortals in general, simply scribe a 'note to immortal' and a messenger will speed your correspondence away. A similar warning to the misuse of 'pray' is given.

A complete listing of the Immortals along with useful information for each can be found at http://theforsakenlands.com/wiki.

Born of the blood of two gods. Not many can make such an unbelievable statement and be believed, however, there's one where such a thing did actually take place. A fight between two gods who controlled opposite forces of Death had created the exact formula to create a third immortal, one completely unlike both of its predecessors.

Morlhach had in ages past stolen a part of Anume's power at the death of Ordaran; a piece of power that was supposed to finish the trinity of power she once held before. In time, Anume had devised a plan, and had finally decided to strike to gain this power back, just as she had done with Ordaran before.

Unfortunately, Morlhach was much stronger than Ordaran, though Anume stronger still, and it took many moons for the end event to come to pass. Anume and Morlhach fought for what seemed days across the Winter Barrens and across Aabahran's skies as Anume continued to inch closer to her victory. After every battle, Morlhach grew weaker, and in a deft attempt to remain alive when Anume finally immortally wounded Morlhach, he passed into a mortal's mind and hid.

This powerful strike that forced Morlhach into hiding came at a cost to both of the gods. Blood from Anume intermingled with Morlhach's blood, creating a homonculus. This homonculus was void of emotion and had no idea right from wrong, but it was powerful. A blank slate, if you will, the previous holder of the Mantle of Purity, Drokmar, made his move to push the Agenda of Purity onto the homonculus.

The powers of Death knew of its travesty, and tried to right itself. And they almost won, if it weren't for a powerful Avatar, and his friend, a Tribune. They both put their lives before the homonculus and saved it, keeping it from the grasps of the powers of Death that it was born from. The homonculus still had no name, but it would suddenly realize itself, and follow Drokmar into taking the Mantle he had left empty all those years before.

Eventually, Morlhach was killed by another mortal as he veinly attempted to control a mortal's body and corpse. The power released by Morlhach immediately returned to Anume, but there was still power to be had. The power of anger, which instead channeled into the homonculus, giving him what he needed to become aware. Erelei was then realized, his power molding him into what is known today: the Mantle of Purity.

The Great Library is vast and nobody is entirely sure where the bird came from or how it got there. Some believe it a piece of Nercuros, broken free from the moon during one of the many meteoroid impacts upon its surface. This piece eventually fell to a remote part of Aabahran and was eventually covered by time deep below the surface. Even buried as it was, the call from this piece of the Prime of Balance was felt and to it came many from both aspects of life. People settled nearby, drawn to the spot where the impact happened. They built a town above just as another creature burrowed a cavern below. To this end, the balance was preserved until those living in Anduin left it abandoned. Eventually, another city was built on top of the first. Life and order prospered on the surface once more while Shudde M'ell lived on below until Caraduin too, was set to ruin.

It was only the contingent of archaeologists sent from Khorandain that dove into the earth there, who found that which was so long ago buried. In their excitement in discovering what they thought to be a new type of stone, they salvaged what they could and sent it back to Khorandain as quickly as possible. There, it was categorized, mislabeled and set upon a stonemason's bench to build to be made into a statue for the library that was being built to the east. So he set upon the rock, chiseling pieces off until it took the shape of a bird he saw long ago on an island in the Dead Sea.

At first, it sat in the chambers of the Historians. After a time it was passed down to the Academicians. Eventually it made its way in the back corners of the library to gather dust. It sat there feeling the shifts of balance, back and forth until the balance tipped often enough. The Long Night turned to be the final straw and the statue moved ...

Mild earthquakes shook the land. It has awoken.

Xultantris of the swarm has returned after eons of being dormant, sleeping deep underground. Weak from his slumber and malnourished, his powers have faded. This indestructible essence is consciousness incarnate. For too long mortals have been spoiled by his absence and most even grew to become self aware and can now even resist his domination again. How fun.

This ancient psychic being feeds itself through strife and pulls the strings of mortal minds as if strumming on his harp. What may start as a whisper is just the seed of malcontent being planted. Soon, the voices in your brain will be echoing and screaming through your mind to kill your own family for they plot against you. Xultantris does this through the mental domination of lesser species, able to see through the insect's, arachnid's and even crustacean's eyes and hears the world through their antennal ears. These same creatures are able to project his mental domination further and will whisper these tall tales into your mind. Perhaps you are strong enough to rebuke his mental suggestions, but is the man standing next to you?

For countless years the city of Val Miran, Bastion of the West, has ever been the home of the virtuous. A city that has been called home by some of the greatest heroes in Aabahran's history. The city has also been the target of evil aggressions countless times. The city has been destroyed, rebuilt, destroyed again, so on and so forth, but it has never been fully eradicated. The city itself, along with its people, have endured unthinkable hardships. Yet through their power of will, determination, and righteous hearts they have continued and thrived.

Though the people have always progressed beyond the obstacles in their way, their hopes and wishes for safety have never slowed. For millennia the city has listened. For generations the city has done its best to defend them within its walls. Forever has the city been collecting their prayers, and forever the city itself has hoped to help.

The final straw for the city was the appearance of the One True King of Aabahran and the rampant destruction he sowed. Val Miran had to do something for its inhabitants, so it began. Each building, each temple, each road, and each wall began to coalesce the eons of prayers and righteous cries together. From this action was birthed Dendrovaron. A being made from the city of light itself to defend Val Miran, the west, and all who are kind of heart.