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SWORDS OF SPEIRLING V3

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Post  Peregrin Tue Aug 17, 2010 9:47 am

SWORDS OF SPEIRLING V3 Scotland2copy

Once upon a time, in the land once known as Albion and her surrounding islands, war was stirring. The Scottish Highlands and Lowlands have split into separate kingdoms battling for control of the mainland while the Scottish islands look on and finger the hilts of their swords, inspired by the civil war. To the south, the mighty power that is Great Britain stirs restlessly as it searches for its lost princes using a magical sword stuck through an anvil and into a stone. Wales has already fallen under English control, but still supports a hopeless group of Welsh rebels. Ireland is controlled by Britain, disguised by the puppet of an Irish boy set up as their king. Pirate lurk offshore, only adding to the chaos. Blood-thirsty banshee warriors await at their capitol of Ingleborough, itching for blood to be spilled. Even the merfolk of the British Sea fear the earth-dwellers' war will affect them.

There is a boy. A common, human peasant boy, gifted and cursed with the powers of a warlock. He is special, though he knows this not, for he is the only one, apart from the Great Warlock Merlyn, who has the power to control the amulets.

They were forged in ancient Greece, long ago and they were forged by the god Hēphaistos, as legend has it. Twelve were forged, one for each of the Olympian deities and each god or goddess channeled a portion of their power into them so they could never truly die. The amulets were them hidden until they were stolen by a Roman mortal, who them marched Norse to Brittania and was killed in battle in the 2nd century A.D. The chest that held the amulets was then split between twelve chieftains and scattered across Albion. They were then lost to living memory.

But word has it the Greco-Roman gods have been awakened. They are not pleased that their power has been lost in a land once-dominated by Norse and Celtic gods, their enemies and which is now ruled by Christianity. Dreams are being sent to twelve individuals, dreams of the amulets and of the one boy who may have the power to wield them. Wielded in unison, the Olympian amulets have the power to control all of Albion and even to unite the twelve kingdoms under one ruler.

But the boy, Collin Whicker, isn't the only one with the ability to wield the amulets. The warlock Merlyn, the most powerful magic-user is all of history, also holds this power. Some say Merlyn is a god, some say he is the son of a god, still others, the child of a powerful sidhe. Whatever his lineage, Merlyn is a powerful man, but he was proven once before that he will easily succumb to corruption and if the amulets came into his hands, the world itself might perish. Luckily, he has been bewitched so that he can only see the future and not remember the past, which makes for one confused warlock.

Still, in the magical realm of Cornwall, also known as "Otherworld", the Council of Faeries meets, desperately plotting to keep the amulets out of Merlyn's memory and his hands. They cannot stop the dreams, for even one of their own has received one. All they can do is wait and search for the boy themselves, joining in the chaos that will soon intensify and grip Albion's very soul.

For now, the kingdoms have reached a temporarily truce, so they may take part in an innocent tournament. Today, they play games and dance with each other, when tomorrow they will kill each other, searching for the boy and the amulets.

The year is 1516 A.D. A conflict unmatched is brewing and nothing can stop it. The amulets are scattered across: Shetland, the Celtic Sea, Saor, the Hebrides, Skye, Sceith, Ireland, Great Britain, Ingleborough, Wales, the British Sea and yes, Cornwall. One boy has the power, one man could destroy everything. Mortals, gods, sidhe and magical creatures awake anew.

You are a part of this fight. You are swept up in the coming war that may very well claim your life. You did not ask for this. You do not want this. This is not your war.

But you have no choice.

The time for waiting is over. The storm has begun. The speirling is here. You're not going to live happily ever after.

SWORDS OF SPEIRLING


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