Zensuon: Crystal Age

Part 1: All The Crystals of the World Might be of Sufficient Value...

... To Redeem One Soul

This is a tale I quite enjoy repeating. And why wouldn't it be? It's since I'm in it! I hope as you read the pages, you can tell where I pop up, if not, that's fine as well. If you follow through to the end, you'll surely know.

Prelude

"Do you see these runes, Gydo?" The shadowy figure adorned in armour pointed to the sigils covering the device. The white dragonkin* nodded, but realizing the helmet on the figure's face might have obscured the motion from its view, he added, "Yes, Lavis".

*Dragonkin: [Half-Dragon, Half-Human, All scaley (usually).]

"These will ensure none may claim the crystal, yet they will not interfere with your drawing upon its powers." That dark helmet now rotated towards Gydo.

The dragonkin simply nodded this time. He understood quite well. It was not placed there as theft protection. Lavis simply did not want him stealing it, Gydo imagined.

"I shall be expecting the other one soon, then." The dark figure concluded, before turning on its heels.

Following it into the shadows that filthed the room, stood a feminine figure, coated in darkness, creeping from the ground and crawling upwards along her form. Her blank white eyes stared at the dragonkin, as she followed the dark-armoured Lavis.

The shadows of the room retreated. After which the already dim light slowly crawled back into its place. Not that it bothered Gydo, he could see perfectly well in both.

Things aren't going to go your way, Lavis. The dragonkin thought. He was enraged that that man, anyone, dared to command him. With this, things will now go my way. The crystal brightly shone in purple within the machine.

A Good Day for a Cruise

It was a bright and sunny day; a great day for a cruise across the Terran Thumb Canal. Said waterway-baring ships bringing newcomers from outside of Zensuon into it, and its main (and nearly only) path of import and export.

In one such ship making its way towards the land, a big, green man was standing out amongst the crowd. Although not much amongst it as away from it, with most being too afraid to approach him, creating a kind of natural semicircle where none dared step around the edge of the ship where he stood. He, meanwhile, was too busy glancing at the splashing waves the ship created in its wake.

On the opposite end of the rather large deck of the vessel sat a man who was on the opposite end of the height spectrum from the aforementioned large man. Said a relatively smaller man sitting against the wooden edge of the vessel and watching the orc*.

*Orc: [ Big, monstrous man-like creatures that are sometimes green, and mostly mean. They are also known for the color of their skin- greenskin, brownskin, etc. A common saying for describing orcs is "You can't spell 'war' without 'orc'!" To which most (literate people) reply "What? Of course you can." which is commonly followed with "They sure do try, though!"]

"What do you make of it?" The sailor asked, sipping from his rum with one hand, and resting himself on a barrel with the other. The smaller man on the floor looked up at the speaker, then back over at the greenskin.

"It's big. Dressed in ragged pelts. Large axe. And here I am wondering how it has the restraint to stand still, not to mention manage to board a ship on its own." The halfling* glanced around left and right across the ship. "Do you think it a lost slave?" The smallman of the smallfolk peered up at the sailor in question with a question.