Ch'taren history

History of the Ch'taren

Ages ago, the ch'taren existed in another world, in a beautiful land rich in magical energies. The ch'taren worshipped two deities, Vaialos the patron of peace, music, and beauty, and Rystaia, patron of freedom, joy, and passion. Every ch'taren child was told the tale of the birth of their gods from formless matter, and shaped into the embodiment of their two ideals, and how still the two were connected by the energies that brought them both into being.

The ch'taren lived in magnificent cities built by the architects of Vaialos using the art of Availlae, weaving matter from pure magical energy. They lived an existence of happiness and relative peace, marred only by a dark race which dwelled in caves and other dark and damp places. Cruel and twisted, those creatures lived only for pain and suffering. Reproducing quickly, they were held from overrunning the ch'taren by their practice of cannibalism and by hunting parties sent from the cities.

In the caves below the cities, the twisted ones realized their end was slowly drawing nigh, and so a gathering of shamans was held. Horrible rites and mutilation were preformed, little more than a bloodbath of their own kind, and sacrifices were made to the unseen as they offered prayers for their dark savior to come.

In Avendar, the end of the War of Night was approaching, but Ashur, Dragon of the Void, wanted his victory to be absolute and without chance. He had felt the energy from the ch'taren's plane, and pulled by the twisted creatures calling, he decided to travel there and claim that reservoir of power for himself.

Upon his arrival, he wasted no time in commencing to drain the energy there, and absorbing it into himself. The ch'taren cities, built and woven from magic using the art of Availlae, began to crumble.

The people prayed to Vaialos and Rystaia, hoping to understand the cause, but their prayers went unanswered as their gods were already locked in combat with Ashur. The Dragon was stronger than he had ever been, flush with the stolen energies of their plane, and was able to withstand the two-sided attack of Rystaia's blades and Vaialos' channeled energy.

Below, the ch'taren were distracted from their prayers by an attack. The lower beings from the caves had launched assault on the cities, breaking easily through their crumbling walls. They were cruel and deadly, killing all in their path, working with a unity and single-mindedness they had never before shown. Influenced by the dark force above, they brought devastation upon the ch'taren, showing them anguish of which they had never conceived.

In the skies above, the twin ch'taren deities and the Dragon fought still, though at long last Ashur seemed to weaken under the combined onslaught and his divided concentration. But as Vaialos and Rystaia gained the advantage, those below were dying in droves. Weakened by Ashur's draining and the evil creatures swarming through, the capital city of the ch'taren, once a place of beauty and light, crumbled and fell into the ocean.

Vaialos heard the cries of the dying, and could not bear the agony he felt from his children. Consumed by their pain, he stood transfixed as the violence and despair washed over him. Rystaia called out to her brother, seeing his peril, but it was too late. Ashur had been hoarding a reserve of strength for this moment, and he wasted no time seizing the advantage. Thrusting his claw forward, it melted into Vaialos' stricken form, and with the might of the gods he pulled....

Cold silvery blue light pulsed out from Vaialos and flickered up Ashur's arm. The skies darkened to an ominous orange shade as Rystaia fell to her knees, her twin's agony felt so keenly in her own being. Forcing herself to her feet, she grabbed onto the two paralyzed figures, only to be thrown away by a bright lash of the silvery light.

Ashur opened his mouth in a silent scream, and from it and his eyes poured the light that was Vaialos' essence. With a final wretch, Ashur yanked his claw out of Vaialos, and abruptly all the light surrounding him coalesced on what he still held, a flawless teardrop gem which almost slipped from his numbed grasp.

Ashur turned to the prone form of Rystaia, and watched as it dissolved into a golden mist at her brother's demise. Satisfied that the plane was now his, Ashur returned to the task at hand.

Rystaia had not died, though she had been greatly weakened. Without form, her consciousness followed the strongest link to it, and came to her high priest, whose faith was unwavering in the face of cataclysm. There, Rystaia rested and observed as her priest marshaled the survivors into a strong defense of what remained of their city and way of life. For some time Rystaia watched, careful to do nothing else that would alert Ashur to her presence, knowing in her weakened state she could do nothing for her people. She watched and learned, soon realizing Ashur's trick to travelling the dimensions. She learned of his plans, and heard of the great summoning that would end the war on his plane.

Rystaia whispered these plans to her high priest, and instructed her to gather all the survivors for the day of the summoning. All the able ch'taren assembled on the proper day, and they began their own ritual to intercept the calling to the plane of demons, instructed by Rystaia was she spoke through her priests body.

What at long last the portal opened, the ch'taren poured through, leaving behind their decayed cities and the darkness that had claimed their land.

Once on the other side, the ch'taren immediately set about destroying the dark mages that surrounded them. They fell quickly to the unfamiliar magics of spirit and the ch'taren quickly established their force against the scholars of the void.

In the years following the wars, the ch'taren people settled in their new world, some even studying new forms of magic such as water or air. The art of Availlae, however, was lost to them forever, the energies of this plane being too sparse for all but the crudest applications of it, and this too was forgotten by most, in time.

Through the ch'taren, the worship of Rystaia was spread, and the stories of the death of Vaialos were told in a sad whisper. Rystaia's faith quickly took hold in the hearts of those who had fought in the war, and she became known as the "Lightbringer" for bringing hope in the face of the night.

In the hundreds of years since the war, worship of the goddess has fallen some, as many are now used to their freedom and take it for granted rather than appreciate it. But for those who still follow her teachings there are temples dedicated to her scattered throughout the lands.