Stand behind me.” Nicole ordered to the others. She had her hand raised, feeling into the rock beneath their feet. All around them were voids. The mountain side was full of deep crevices and caves. Suddenly she thrust her hand into the ground, and it was like she had cracked ice on a lake. The earth in front of her fell away and revealed a deep chasm, full now of tree and warrior alike. The warriors that remained yelled and Nicole stepped backwards, holding a hand that was clearly bruised. Price leapt towards the fissure and charged at two enemies stood precariously close to its edge. He blocked a blow of the first while kicking out with his legs. It teetered and then fell. He was on the second warrior in an instant. His vine slicing at its legs. As he rounded back on it, two slices to its face sent the warrior falling into the chasm beneath.
With the initial structure conquered, Kat led the charge. One of the big brutes rounded on her, its swing she blocked with the rod in her right hand while the left went into the beast’s stomach. She laughed as it flew across the room, knocking over the machine gunner and buying the human soldiers a valuable reprieve. Just two short minutes after the assault had started, only two Murka’s remained. The rest were dead, dying, or incapacitated. Some by the clever work of Price, others by David’s deadly precision and even a couple were crumpled by the force of Sam’s gift but most had been taken down by Kat and she eyed the other two viciously, “Ice.” She yelled. Sam’s hands flew forward, and the cold metal floor began to shimmer with the thin covering of ice. Kat felt her feet lose balance, so she fell to her knee’s in a dive and allowed her momentum to carry her forward. The Murka’s tried to step toward her but their thick boots could find no grip and so they were falling as Kat approached. As she slid past, each felt the full force of one of her rods in the gut and the last two remaining Murka’s fell. Kat stopped herself against the far wall and with careful feet she stood up.
Kat stood alone with Lucast, who seemed ready, a swirling ball of water surrounding him. The chasm he had filled in places, allowing the molten warriors to cross slowly. He was positioned for a fight, but Kat did not think he would need to be. He had shown her how powerful she could be and that vision, oh that terrible vision, had given her an idea. She could feel a steadiness within her, a calm before the storm but this would be her storm. As she lifted her hand, clouds rumbled and roared above her. She could feel the particles of ice in the sky and the static charge between them. As she moved the clouds, the more they rubbed and the greater her control became. Thunder echoed above her and like a calling, the warriors advanced. Bright flashes suddenly lit up the landscape and Kat felt the hairs on her arms rise. The heavens were charged and with it, her feet lifted off the ground. She rose higher and higher, suspended by her power over the sky. She was lit by the last rays of a red sun as it set below the smoke cloud and then it vanished and all that could be seen were the sparks that shined around Kat’s body. This was the pinnacle of her excellence and as she struck her first enemy, she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Name: Krun Bitaran Age: N/A Species: Vassal First Appearance: The History of Ilmgral: Book One. The Sundering of the Two Moons
Power: Krun, son of Krim, is the Vassal of the forests and the creatures that live in them. Krun could move forests and called all manner of birds and beasts to him. From his power came the Krun-ilma, who live in the great forests of the world.
Appearance: Like the Krun-ilma, Krun’s skin carries earthy hints. He has no red scales but root like veins protrude from the skin around the arms and under the eyes. Evergreen leaves grew in his brown hair also.
Backstory: Krun was born in the kingdom of Scaraden but was ferreted away after the death of his mother. As he came into his lordship, he took his people into the great wood and formed their, the Krun-Ilma. Until his fathers spirit would call him to war.
Story Excerpt: This great army crossed the sea and like his father, he was nearly unchallenged in the land of Scaraden, and the small host sent against them was swiftly swept aside. Soon the host came to the fortress of Agralita and many of the soldiers became sickened as they drank from the corrupted streams or ate the food of that land. All had fallen under Agral’s sickness and only the power of Mina kept those affected in the lands of the living. Long the siege lasted and during it, Krun brought great trees that sucked the poison from the streams and lands, and the corpses of those trees decayed swiftly and gave fresh soil for the growing of many flowers that Mina cultivated. Soon Agral’s power began to waver and the fear of him lessened and the doors of Agralita were opened. Krun came then to the chamber of a dark tower where his uncle lay in rest and from a scabbard, he drew a knife. Sharply the eyes of Agral opened and he thrust with his power, but it was weak and Krun was young, come now into full manhood and his power surrounded Agral. “Yield.” Krun ordered, “And I may find mercy in my heart for the killing of my mother and father.” Agral laughed, and the sound was sickeningly seductive, “Mercy.” He spat, “You are like your father, weak, destined to stay in the line painted for you by the Gods. The Ilma are to be a higher power, custodians of the universe, under no dominion of the Gods.” Like a cornered animal Agral struck but the blade he had concealed, caught meekly in Krun’s armour of thick bark, “You have no power now that can overcome that of Gadrika’s.” Krun said in a deep and commanding voice, “Now Kneel.” Then Agral knelt and in his bow, he revealed that he was garbed in thick chain mail, even while he slept and at his waist was a sword hilt, but the blade had been broken from it. Krun then drew his own blade and anger overcame his sense, but his hand was stayed by a deep voice.
Before Tom could stop her, she dived into the pool and delicately glided to the far side. Using the water as a base, she leapt out in front of the warriors, the moisture flying off her and hanging as little droplets in the air that she sent flying towards her enemies. The droplets sizzled on impact but were nothing more than a minor hinderance. She landed on the edge of the pool and in a graceful movement, her hands lifted. Muscles strained on her arms as they connected with the pool water. It began to lift and veins in her arms popped at the weight of all that water. Some warriors ran away, others tried to move towards her but they knew their doom was near. The water lifted until the pool was empty and as Sophie’s strength began to ebb, she threw her arms forward. Tom lifted his own hand and added his weight so that the wave crashed past Sophie, turning the first two warriors into statues and then it carried on, moving through the kitchen with frightening speed, destroying every molten warrior it touched. The wave reached towards the kitchen before finally faltering and silence filled the noon day. Sophie stood there, arms hanging limply by her side. As she turned, Tom couldn’t help but laugh. Wet hair clung to a face that was red from the strain. She shivered un-controllably, with the sun barely able to pierce the thick smog from the volcano.
“What’s up?” Sam asked looking back at him. “I don’t know.” Price muttered, searching the trees for something, “I just don’t feel right.” Sam looked around, “Stop messing okay.” Some birds flew up from a tree and Price relaxed, wondering if that was what he had sensed, “I’m probably just being paranoid.” He was about to take a step again when his eyes widened. He pushed Sam into the undergrowth as a shot echoed in the alley way and sparks shot across the pavement. Price shoved Sam to the floor and he connected to the trees. They seemed to rustle and there was a moan as a branch broke and a figure fell to the floor, landing with a dull thud. With a turn it stood nimbly and even though they were concealed in the undergrowth, it was looking right at them. A gun clattered to the floor between them and Price looked from the grey skinned, long armed creature, to the weapon that was like none he had ever seen. Price charged for the gun and his finger slipped to the panic button. Sam was behind him, but the creature was quicker. It dived on Price and swept him away with a powerful swing of his arm. Sam was braver than he had expected, and he grasped the creature’s arm just as it wrapped around the gun. The creature gave a primeval yell before jumping back. It stared down at the silhouette of Sam’s hand; his arm burnt by the freeze. Sam kicked the large gun away but squealed as the creature pulled from its belt, a long-curved blade. Price was on his feet again and he charged, pulling for a root. Before one could break the surface, a boot caught him painfully in the stomach and the Murka slashed with its good arm to keep Sam away. It turned again on Price, and Sam tried to kick out but the figure turned, caught his boot and span him to the floor. The knife was coming down for him before Sam could stop it, but a root snatched at the creature’s wrist. Price was pulling with all his might but the muscular arm of the Murka was slowly getting closer to Sam’s chest. Its numb, frozen arm grabbed at Sam’s neck and he tried desperately to breathe. In a last desperate measure, his hand went to the Murka’s face. Ice glistened on his fingers and the Murka screamed. The knife fell, grazing Sam’s cheek and the distraction allowed Price to pull the Murka away from him. Regaining itself, it span, grabbed the gun and smiled at them. More roots were bursting from the ground and Sam’s hands were sparkling with the ice that covered them. With startling speed, two knives flew at Price and Sam and they ducked to avoid them. When they looked up, the Murka was charging away with a frightening turn of pace. They chased it as far as they could until it disappeared into a spinney at the end of a long field.
Name: Krim Gadrika Age: N/A Species: Vassal First Appearance: The History of Ilmgral: Book One. The Sundering of the Two Moons
Power: In life, Krim was born to heal the pains of world but only by giving strength for things to heal themselves. He was supposed to give strength to all things and give none for himself. In death he became guardian of souls who do good and helped Gadrika nurture souls in the halls of Agraldin,
Appearance: Krim is strong and bold, the tallest of the Ilma. He has blonde hair and flawless skin. In death he bore the torn cloak of Gadrika and at his side was a broken sword in a sheaf.
Backstory: Krim and his brother were born in the lands of Kuratex. Both their powers showed early but after an attack by his brother, that saw Krim nearly killed, he was spirited away and he and his brother were sundered by distance and hate.
Story Excerpt: Only around Krim, who lay in stupor upon his bed, was the pestilence of Agral kept at bay and through his power, the sickness relented. Rising from his bed, Krim saw the devastation of his brother and revealed his power. No want of glory was in his mind, and he saw the goodness in all things and all people. He sang and the oil vanished from the water and the fish were cleared of their taint. The trees bloomed again, and the flowers lost their pestilence but to Agral he did nothing, seeing then the opposites of their power. Krim could heal some wounds but only in giving strength for things to heal themselves and he could cure a small grove of disease, but Agral could heal all if he wished and could remove pestilence rather than create it, if guided properly.
Name: Crio Orna Age: N/A Species: Vassal First Appearance: The History of Ilmgral: Book One. The Sundering of the Two Moons
Power: Crio was touched in the hall of Agraldin by Orna and was given his power over earth and metal. He is a great forger and builder.
Appearance: Crio is short for one of the Ilma and much greater built. His eyes are also grey and ores seemed to run across his skin. he is covered in grey hair with a large beard, rare for one of the Ilma.
Backstory: Crio was born in the lands of the nomadic people on the borders of Scaraden but he was hunted and so in time came to the lands of Drage and fell into the care of the descendants of Drage, fulfilling Livella’s prophecy in the hall of Agraldin.
Story Excerpt: With that, Crio fell under the protection of the house of Drage, and he was called Crio Minton, for his work with iron but Bela died in the summer of the next year and unlike the others of her house, she was buried in the town of Amoradrage. On the coast of the north that town was built, where the mountain had been swallowed by the sea. The youngest son of Drage founded the town and Bela was buried upon the edge of the cliff, so she could look for her love. A year Crio spent with Dusan in the northern town and their friendship blossomed and Crio taught the people there how to mine the black obsidian cliffs. From that rock, he helped build the lighthouse of Amoradrage, and from its top, the peak of the mountain could be seen, crumbled under the waves. Bring, son of Drage, became high lord then. Crio built for him, from the same black rock, the dragon gate and the keep of Dragor. Turning the town that was once Cambane, into a place of strength. For the lord, Crio also forged a sword. The blade was formed from the black stone of the mountain and the handle a sturdy bone, studded with gems. Crio married at this time and his wife bore to him two sons who were also broad in stature, and they played amongst the children of Dusan, and the friendship of their house was great.
The vines on Price’s arms grew and hardened and these he placed through the warrior’s chest, spearing them where they stood. The vines broke off but using his power, they grew again and each time with greater strength. Soon he was by Tom’s side and together, warriors fell in a ring around their feet. They were a team as they had been for years and almost when Tom was beaten, Price sang in the language of the trees and a root burst from the ground, trapping the warrior before it had a chance to strike. Unheard, Sophie had run behind them and the water in the root burst open, and Tom lost the warrior in a plume of steam that broke its inner fire. The ground under Tom’s feet shifted and he saw a warrior, in the midst of its strike on Sophie, fall to the floor before it was skewered by Price. In the corner of his eye, he saw Nicole, her arms moving wildly to the shift the ground in their favour. As Tom sliced his way through another warrior, that crumpled in a very human way, he felt his strength wavering. His body realised how hungry he was, and the constant use of his power, was beginning to tell on his limbs.
Name: Camara Thera Age: N/A Species: Vassal First Appearance: The History of Ilmgral: Book One. The Sundering of the Two Moons
Power: Camara is the child of Thera, not a soul touched in the hall of Agraldin. Therefore her power supersedes that of the other vassals. She can control all waters and in time became guardian of the northern oceans. Controlling the Camara stream that brings the weather to the northern continents. Her power is mutated though and often she brings harsh winters and unforgiving summers.
Appearance: Camara looks like one of the ilma but her eyes are crystal blue and her scales seem to carry a shimmer like fish scales. Her hair is a mix of silver, green and blue, like the plant life of the oceans.
Backstory: Camara was born to an Ilma mother, who had wed and slept with the God Thera. She developed powers quickly and was wise for her age. When the wicked Graul of the great continent came for her people. She fled across the ocean with her Thera-ilma until she settled in the north.
Story Excerpt: “Come.” Camara cried, “Our only hope is the sea, where Thera lives, and our peace may be found.” Her people hurried to the beach while their homes were destroyed, and that beacon of fire was like a signal to Thera. The sea’s rose in a violent tumult and the ships that were now boarded by the wicked Graul, were cast in ruin and the bodies of the Thera-ilma were saved and found rest at the oceans floor. Yet upon that storm a bitterness came to Camara and wind from the far north brought an icy chill and her powers of the sea became powers of storm and ice. At her feet the sea froze, and she stepped nimbly upon the wave crest, now frozen in time, “Come, come, we must flee.” Dubiously her people stared at her but as the wicked Graul came to hack and slay, they stepped upon the frozen sea and Camara charged further from the coast, the sea turning to ice on command and her people followed her. The Graul that touched that ice fell and went to the hall of Agraldin and faced punishment for all of time. So came the greatest toil of the Therailma in the early years and they marched across the wide sea in search for a place of sanctuary. Water she pulled, clean and fresh from the sea and fish presented themselves for their food but they ate only what they needed and what the sea could provide. For nearly a whole year, the people of Camara crossed the vast ocean and some were lost upon the path, killed by disease, cold or hopelessness. These went to the sea to join Thera. As summer came to this region, they began to see lands, but Camara feared this place and they marched between two continents, like dangers set to either side and as they passed, the ground to their east rumbled and the sea shook in answer, but she ploughed her people onwards. At one place she stopped, and she stared down to great depths. Thera seemed to speak to her, and she saw the things that were to come and the pain that would follow for the Thera-ilma. For they were new, created by his weakness in the hall of sanctuary and now they were sundered from the chosen Ilma. Tears she shed into the sea, to the despair of her people, “Sweet maiden of the sea.” Her handmaid asked, “Why do you cry?” “Passing this point I see things to come. Our new home draws near but beneath our feet a mountain stands and soon the seas will part, and it will rise and in time it will become our home, our citadel, our sanctuary. My grandsire, Orna, shall fashion it as he fashioned the moons, and the waters of my father will protect it.” “Such a glorious place it shall be.” The handmaiden cried but her voice became stern, “Still I see no need for tears.” Camara smiled at her, “Long shall be that path and it will be full of tragedy, for it is clear in my mind that the tragedy in our village was not all that would befall us and some that will come will be our fault. We will be few when we come to this chosen kingdom, a place to wait for our kind to die out from the tapestry, that is ever woven in Agraldin.”
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