French Roast
Lord of Altera
- Pronouns
- She/Her
French_Roast
Zonerule. A quaint little continent far, far away from Altera. It is made up of several dozen small nations, and is a very peaceful place. There are no castles or fortresses anymore. Not used ones anyway. The only danger is the infernal Underground.
I don't know why they are called the Underground. They are more like an invading group of crime-lords. The Underground is trying to conquer the nations of Zonerule and rule them with an iron fist to create a military power as mighty as the one that previously held Zonerule.
Long before today, Zonerule was a very dark place. It was controlled by a group of cold-hearted military leaders. They terrorized the people of Zonerule and kept them in line with brutal public executions, and even public torture, to those who dared to even lift a finger against them. The nation had no name, but had been nicknamed by the citizens the Darklands. We Zonerulean Elves named it Dastra'an. This translates to "Land of Evil". The governing body was officially named the Fist of Glory. The Elves of Zonerule called them Mordaias: Demons of the Underworld.
After nearly 100 years of this merciless rule, the Elves of Zonerule rose up, not restrained by the tyrannical law of the Fist of Glory. The Elves lived in nature. Not just in the trees, but in the desert, on vast plains, and even on the mountains. Here, they were free from the iron-fisted "demons", and could do anything they pleased. They struck at them, freeing Zonerule one village at a time, destroying the Fists one fortress at a time. Eventually, they destroyed their last fortress, but not before capturing the leaders and taking them to the Elven capital, where they were executed publicly for what they had done.
Now, Zonerule is once again a peaceful land. The nations live in harmony, closely bonded. None of them could survive without the resources of the others. There are no armies, for there is no need for any.
The Elves of Zonerule are very different from Wood Elves and High Elves. We do not speak the same language. We mostly speak common tongue, but in spiritual times, we have our own language, which is said to have been given to us by our gods. We use this sacred language when we are trying to use our minds to calm someone, and in moments of spiritual depth, such as moments of tenderness, mortal peril, and pending death. We meditate as well. Sometimes, it is simply being in a quiet place and focusing on what we wish to meditate on, but often it is a deep sleep that can go on for months, and even years. Our bodies need no water or food during this time, as they are as good as dead. Only our heart, lungs, and minds still work, and very, very weakly.
We have more power in our minds than most Elves. We are able to both enter someone else's mind, and simply observe them through their minds without actually entering them. We cannot control them, but a sudden, unexpected entrance has been used to momentarily stun our adversaries.
We are both more and less human than some other Elves. We are very spiritual. Our ways can get rather harsh. For example, if one is being ignorant and trying to be above another that in reality is equal in authority to them, he may have to be emotionally compromised. This involves saying something deeply personal to them that brings in a very dark element of their past or personality. It is not simply saying someone is ugly. It is saying something like, "Your father deserved what happened to him." It must be something that brings back a traumatizing scar that will never heal, and using it to hit their mind and send their mind into a state of weakness, so that they can realize what they have been doing wrong. It often results in a violent response from the subject, but it is a necessary sacrifice.
We believe strongly in neutrality and, stronger than anything else, vengeance. We are neutral with all, save those who are evil. We will strike fiercely if an enemy attacks us though. Our allies are very close, and we treat them as our own. We believe in freedom, and do not tolerate any totalitarian rule. This brings about some weaknesses, of course.
I, Zraneth, am an Elf of Zonerule. Well, now I am, anyway. My mother was an Elf, but my father was human. After my mother had to leave, I lived in the wild with my father. We hunted for a living, selling our animal goods to earn money, which we used to buy swords and some other modest items. The rest of our stuff was crafted by hand from the things we collected from what we killed. We hunted many things, from the harmless pigs that bless us with their meat to the foul creatures that shun the light. I'll never forget what killed my father though.
We were hunting out at night, and we were hiding in a tree, hoping for a spider to pass by. My father needed string with which to make a new bow. Suddenly, a strange, tall, black, human-like creature wandered through the woods. And Enderman. My father did not know what it was, and neither did I at the time. As he examined it, he was startled when he realized it was standing perfectly still, staring directly back at him. I was looking at it too. I could almost feel its pure black skin. It's purple eyes bored holes into my skull. I couldn't look at it anymore. I was suddenly engulfed with fear. I shoved my father to the ground, as if an archer was about to shoot him from afar. I looked where it had been, and it was gone. But I could still hear its strange sounds. Closer. Closer. Closer. I look down. It's directly under us, its mouth now agape, still staring at us. I don't dare move. My father is next to me, farther out along the branch. Suddenly, the branch disappears from under him and is in the Enderman's hands. My father falls down, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear him screaming as the creature kills him somehow. Then, it is deathly silent. I slowly open my eyes. The Enderman is gone, and my father is lying on the ground, covered in some sort of dark energy. I am smart enough not to touch him. He is dead. I later learned that the Endermen are from a dark realm, which is the mortal enemy of my race. The demons.
I was old enough to care for myself, and I lived for another 10 years, doing what my father had taught me to do. I followed the Zonerulean Elf belief of neutrality. I would leave alone any who I passed on the roads. If a mugger came up to me, I would warn them that I was not one to mess with. Then, if they still didn't back down, I would strike. I never thought they would be from the Underground though.
I was walking along a road, when a mugger jumped behind me from the bushes. He looked surprisingly uniform to me, though I thought nothing of it at the time. I warned him, and he lunged at me. A quarrel followed, which ended in his death. The next day, I was ambushed by a group of men dressed in the same uniform as the mugger. I narrowly escaped. I encountered several more ambushes, and eventually realized that they were striking at me not with swords or daggers, but with blackjacks. They intended to knock me out and capture me. That's when I realized the mugger I had killed was from the Underground. They were probably upset that I had killed one of their own and then eluded their teams that had been sent to kill me. They probably were going to torture me. You sometimes heard about people who were messing with the Underground. They would disappear or be killed. Sometimes they would reappear, beaten senseless. Sometimes they wouldn't. Sometimes, their bodies would be found, bruised and cut and burnt all over. Barely recognizable. Sometimes, people have come across Underground hideouts, and on a few occasions, actually found a captured citizen who was being tortured.
Eventually, small-town guards started trying to arrest me when I came into town. Wanted posters appeared with my name and a drawing of me on them. The Underground had bribed the small town guard captains to help hunt me down. Nowhere I went was safe anymore. After a final ambush - practically the whole Underground this time - I realized I could not stay in Zonerule. I snuck into a seaport town and stowed away in the cargo hold of a ship, not caring where it went. That ship led to Altera.
After seeing what all of these events were doing to me, turning me human, I saw that I had almost lost all contact with my spiritual self. I fixed this by becoming a Zonerulean Elf. I could only do this because I was already half-Elf. I spent some time in the wilderness, collecting plants from each different biome. I searched by day. By night, I tree-jumped. This is a spiritual ritual that Zonerulean Elves do often. We simply climb atop the trees at night and begin jumping from tree to tree, doing our best to not stop moving at any point, trusting ourselves. Trusting our bodies to not let us fall to the horrors of the night below. Traditionally, this is done without any armor on to show our trust in ourselves. When the sun begins to rise, we pray. Like other Elves, our prayers are in song, and like other Elves, our song is beautiful. Eventually, I used the plants I had collected to create a Ring of Nature, and this was used to transform into an Elf.
Now, I am an Elf of Zonerule. I am the first of my kind to ever come to Altera. Do not fear me, but respect me. Otherwise, you may want to fear me.
I don't know why they are called the Underground. They are more like an invading group of crime-lords. The Underground is trying to conquer the nations of Zonerule and rule them with an iron fist to create a military power as mighty as the one that previously held Zonerule.
Long before today, Zonerule was a very dark place. It was controlled by a group of cold-hearted military leaders. They terrorized the people of Zonerule and kept them in line with brutal public executions, and even public torture, to those who dared to even lift a finger against them. The nation had no name, but had been nicknamed by the citizens the Darklands. We Zonerulean Elves named it Dastra'an. This translates to "Land of Evil". The governing body was officially named the Fist of Glory. The Elves of Zonerule called them Mordaias: Demons of the Underworld.
After nearly 100 years of this merciless rule, the Elves of Zonerule rose up, not restrained by the tyrannical law of the Fist of Glory. The Elves lived in nature. Not just in the trees, but in the desert, on vast plains, and even on the mountains. Here, they were free from the iron-fisted "demons", and could do anything they pleased. They struck at them, freeing Zonerule one village at a time, destroying the Fists one fortress at a time. Eventually, they destroyed their last fortress, but not before capturing the leaders and taking them to the Elven capital, where they were executed publicly for what they had done.
Now, Zonerule is once again a peaceful land. The nations live in harmony, closely bonded. None of them could survive without the resources of the others. There are no armies, for there is no need for any.
The Elves of Zonerule are very different from Wood Elves and High Elves. We do not speak the same language. We mostly speak common tongue, but in spiritual times, we have our own language, which is said to have been given to us by our gods. We use this sacred language when we are trying to use our minds to calm someone, and in moments of spiritual depth, such as moments of tenderness, mortal peril, and pending death. We meditate as well. Sometimes, it is simply being in a quiet place and focusing on what we wish to meditate on, but often it is a deep sleep that can go on for months, and even years. Our bodies need no water or food during this time, as they are as good as dead. Only our heart, lungs, and minds still work, and very, very weakly.
We have more power in our minds than most Elves. We are able to both enter someone else's mind, and simply observe them through their minds without actually entering them. We cannot control them, but a sudden, unexpected entrance has been used to momentarily stun our adversaries.
We are both more and less human than some other Elves. We are very spiritual. Our ways can get rather harsh. For example, if one is being ignorant and trying to be above another that in reality is equal in authority to them, he may have to be emotionally compromised. This involves saying something deeply personal to them that brings in a very dark element of their past or personality. It is not simply saying someone is ugly. It is saying something like, "Your father deserved what happened to him." It must be something that brings back a traumatizing scar that will never heal, and using it to hit their mind and send their mind into a state of weakness, so that they can realize what they have been doing wrong. It often results in a violent response from the subject, but it is a necessary sacrifice.
We believe strongly in neutrality and, stronger than anything else, vengeance. We are neutral with all, save those who are evil. We will strike fiercely if an enemy attacks us though. Our allies are very close, and we treat them as our own. We believe in freedom, and do not tolerate any totalitarian rule. This brings about some weaknesses, of course.
I, Zraneth, am an Elf of Zonerule. Well, now I am, anyway. My mother was an Elf, but my father was human. After my mother had to leave, I lived in the wild with my father. We hunted for a living, selling our animal goods to earn money, which we used to buy swords and some other modest items. The rest of our stuff was crafted by hand from the things we collected from what we killed. We hunted many things, from the harmless pigs that bless us with their meat to the foul creatures that shun the light. I'll never forget what killed my father though.
We were hunting out at night, and we were hiding in a tree, hoping for a spider to pass by. My father needed string with which to make a new bow. Suddenly, a strange, tall, black, human-like creature wandered through the woods. And Enderman. My father did not know what it was, and neither did I at the time. As he examined it, he was startled when he realized it was standing perfectly still, staring directly back at him. I was looking at it too. I could almost feel its pure black skin. It's purple eyes bored holes into my skull. I couldn't look at it anymore. I was suddenly engulfed with fear. I shoved my father to the ground, as if an archer was about to shoot him from afar. I looked where it had been, and it was gone. But I could still hear its strange sounds. Closer. Closer. Closer. I look down. It's directly under us, its mouth now agape, still staring at us. I don't dare move. My father is next to me, farther out along the branch. Suddenly, the branch disappears from under him and is in the Enderman's hands. My father falls down, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear him screaming as the creature kills him somehow. Then, it is deathly silent. I slowly open my eyes. The Enderman is gone, and my father is lying on the ground, covered in some sort of dark energy. I am smart enough not to touch him. He is dead. I later learned that the Endermen are from a dark realm, which is the mortal enemy of my race. The demons.
I was old enough to care for myself, and I lived for another 10 years, doing what my father had taught me to do. I followed the Zonerulean Elf belief of neutrality. I would leave alone any who I passed on the roads. If a mugger came up to me, I would warn them that I was not one to mess with. Then, if they still didn't back down, I would strike. I never thought they would be from the Underground though.
I was walking along a road, when a mugger jumped behind me from the bushes. He looked surprisingly uniform to me, though I thought nothing of it at the time. I warned him, and he lunged at me. A quarrel followed, which ended in his death. The next day, I was ambushed by a group of men dressed in the same uniform as the mugger. I narrowly escaped. I encountered several more ambushes, and eventually realized that they were striking at me not with swords or daggers, but with blackjacks. They intended to knock me out and capture me. That's when I realized the mugger I had killed was from the Underground. They were probably upset that I had killed one of their own and then eluded their teams that had been sent to kill me. They probably were going to torture me. You sometimes heard about people who were messing with the Underground. They would disappear or be killed. Sometimes they would reappear, beaten senseless. Sometimes they wouldn't. Sometimes, their bodies would be found, bruised and cut and burnt all over. Barely recognizable. Sometimes, people have come across Underground hideouts, and on a few occasions, actually found a captured citizen who was being tortured.
Eventually, small-town guards started trying to arrest me when I came into town. Wanted posters appeared with my name and a drawing of me on them. The Underground had bribed the small town guard captains to help hunt me down. Nowhere I went was safe anymore. After a final ambush - practically the whole Underground this time - I realized I could not stay in Zonerule. I snuck into a seaport town and stowed away in the cargo hold of a ship, not caring where it went. That ship led to Altera.
After seeing what all of these events were doing to me, turning me human, I saw that I had almost lost all contact with my spiritual self. I fixed this by becoming a Zonerulean Elf. I could only do this because I was already half-Elf. I spent some time in the wilderness, collecting plants from each different biome. I searched by day. By night, I tree-jumped. This is a spiritual ritual that Zonerulean Elves do often. We simply climb atop the trees at night and begin jumping from tree to tree, doing our best to not stop moving at any point, trusting ourselves. Trusting our bodies to not let us fall to the horrors of the night below. Traditionally, this is done without any armor on to show our trust in ourselves. When the sun begins to rise, we pray. Like other Elves, our prayers are in song, and like other Elves, our song is beautiful. Eventually, I used the plants I had collected to create a Ring of Nature, and this was used to transform into an Elf.
Now, I am an Elf of Zonerule. I am the first of my kind to ever come to Altera. Do not fear me, but respect me. Otherwise, you may want to fear me.
Name: Zraneth Corj
Nickname/Alias: Zraneth or Zran
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: half-Zonerulean Elf, half-Torture Demon (free, not under Demon reign, NOT EVIL)
Height: 6' 7" (1.8 m)
Weight: 146 lbs. (66.2 kg)
Hair: Golden-Blond
Eyes: Red
Skin: Very Tan
Identifying Marks: A large scar on right side of face.
Appearance: Wears gold-trimmed green tunic and black boots. White shirt and pants under tunic. leather wristbands and leather belt with gold buckle.
Strengths: Very powerful when it comes to the spirit and mind. Also, very agile, and sharp senses. Aware of what is happening in surroundings. Cannot be condemned/corrupted by the Demons (explained in "Zraneth Corj: A Free half-Torture Demon")
Weaknesses and fears: Emotion runs deep in race; rather easily provoked as a result. Also, fear of Endermen and all creatures affiliated with them.
Religion and cults: Zonerulean Elf religion; worships Rhaniek, King of the Zonerule-Elven Gods.
Profession: Zonerule-Elven healer of both mental and physical wounds and worker in Protaras; may be hired for combat roles IF for a good cause