Silverhelms

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Revision as of 06:34, 22 November 2019

The Silverhelms are a small race of Belegarth players who dedicate themselves to upholding a specific standard. It is not like a normal belegarth race, so therefore one cannot self proclaim themselves a Silverhelm. They have to be made one by the present members. There are no barrels or trials. A person can only become a Silverhelm based on their personality and soul.

All 10 Silverhelms

Contents

Lore

Long ago, when the Earth was young and before humanity ever walked this plain, a race of creatures were created. Yet, these beings were not from this planet but were instead from a worlds far away. Known by many names, the Silverhelms were created by the Gods, and as their first children they were endowed with the same knowledge and immortality along with lesser powers as their sky parents possessed. The great architects and the Silverhelms lived prosperous lives on their home world but after using so much of the natural resources their world began to die. Thus, they were forced to explore the galaxy for materials to save their dying world. That is how the found this small blue world amidst the vast darkness.

They Gods and their children prepaired the Earth for their arrival and began the long labor to claim the materials they needed. However the work was to great and in a show of power and hubris the gods and Silverhelms created mankind. The Silverhelms helped lay the pillars of the Earth in order to make way for man. Man was made to serve, their sole purpose for existence was manual labor. They enriched the Silverhelms and their creators with the natural materials that they needed while bowing and scraping to the sight of their glory. When their task was finished, plans were set in motion to eradicate their race but unforetold events took place. One of the mighty architects, the creator of humans himself, rushed to save his children. Only he could see the potential of this species. It was in that hour of annihilation, when great peril threatened to wipe mankind of the face of the Earth that humans rose to the task, proving that they were of worth, that they could rise above.

In that moment, the Silverhelms saw the creators love grow for the humans. They rewarded the man who saved all humans for his bravery by granting him immortality and a seat in their court, something that was not given to the Silverhelms. From there, the makers invested into their human experiment. Thus began the relationship between the humans and Silverhelms. They taught the humans the framework to life itself; They showed them crafts such as metallurgy, agriculture, weaving of silk and fabric, blacksmithing, architecture and many other fundamental attributes, and for a while they learned.

How did the sheep repay the herder? With ignorance. With metallurgy humans made a currency that corrupted the mind and elevated deceiving men to power. With that power they used architecture to build monolith’s to honor their tainted image, attempting self-glorified immortality. With agriculture and cloth, rich men and women dressed themselves in the finest wears and gorged themselves as children lay naked and starving in the streets. With the power of blacksmithing, the humans built weapons, and with weapons came war.

The Silverhelms watched in horror as the mortals destroyed each other with what they taught to bring life. One of the Silverhelms, enraged by the human’s behavior, demanded that the creators finish what they started long ago and obliterate the human race. But the Creators saw in humans what he could not. For his outburst, the makers ordered the Silverhelms to bow to man to show their loyalty to the human race. All bowed but him, and through his dishonor many stood with the newly named Tennebris, for his defiance inspired hatred towards the gods. This began the Clash of the Titans.

The war didn’t last long, but the destruction was great. Many of the Silverhelms perished with the abominations that started the war. When the final battle came, their best warrior faced Tennebris. On the peak of a tower amongst the desolation, they clashed. The fight lasted hours, but when it ended the tyrant had been defeated. Instead of death, he was forced to live and watch the human race flourish, banished to his own prison. The rest of the abominations who followed Tennebris were scattered to the wind, often hiding in the bowels of the earth in feral packs. After the victory the Silverhelms were repurposed. Now they watch and guide the race called man, defending them from the remnant darkness and themselves, leaving their influence both directly and indirectly.

After the Clash, the creators helped pick up the broken pieces of the world and reestablished the human race. In doing this they had the humans record the events of the past in writing, sculpture and building of monuments so that the mortals could remember, so that they could learn from their mistakes. In this time, all cities of man experienced a golden age, a period of peace and learning.

When this was done, and the humans proved they could govern themselves, the makers announced their leave. Overnight, they vanished in eruptions of smoke and flame, returning to the sky in their chariots. In the absence of the gods, the Silverhelms were tasked to watch over the humans, but many of them fell from grace. Many strayed from the path of righteousness, some even harmed the mortals rather than helped and other went into seclusion. Only a small handful kept true to their word.

The Twilight of the Gods

Over the next millennia, the Silverhelms lost hope that the Creators would ever return. That was until one day, a certain Silverhelm was contacted by the Architects. They gave him premonitions of the future and of the horrors to come. He witnessed great wars deciding the fate of this world, and amidst the destruction encircled by abominations stood Tennebris. The Usurper had returned with his corrupted flock and had laid the earth to ashes. Beneath their feet laid the bones of humanity. Along with the remains of the humans laid the bodies of Silverhelms, blood soaked and lifeless. For the humans cowered before the tide and left only our broken race to fight, leading us both to oblivion. In that moment, every fiber of what this Silverhelm was, knew, and believed, died. In that frozen second of time he lived an eternity, and in that agonizing balance of consciousness The Prophet was born. Prophet knew that this fate could not arise, for all the Gods work to create this world would be lost. Therefore the Prophet discarded his neutrality and sought out his remaining active brothers and sisters, as well as seeking mortals fit enough to defend this earth and elevate them to immortality.

Race

There are many names for their species; Djinn, Genius, Draenei, Apokallo, Protoss, Eldar, Maiar, Urskeks, Tho Yor etc. but they call themselves Silverhelms for short because of their silver skin. They are creatures of free will, possessing immortality and powers as well. Together, the Djinn, humans and lesser gods make up the three sapient creations of the Gods. The Djinn are made of a smokeless fire, inhabiting an unseen world beyond the Vale of Mortality. They are usually invisible to humans and humans do not appear clearly to them, but Silverhelms can also live in their physical plan, being able to interact physically with people and objects. Just like human beings, Silverhlmes can also be good, evil, or neutral. Mainly, the Djinn are a most likely to partake in a shamanic, monk or nomadic lifestyles. They tend to live in remote areas, mountains, seas, trees, and the air; in their own communities or in isolation. A large change from the former, almost militaristic metropolises they once lived in. The social organization of the Djinn communities resembles that of the humans; they have kings, courts of law, weddings, and mourning rituals. They also account for much of the "magic" perceived by humans as well.

Terrae

Terrae are the first and most common class of Silver helm. Made in the time of peace, they are the most neutral of the Silver helms race. Their outer shell is generally composed from elements from the earth. They are known for their superior wisdom, foresight and connection to the planet. In the time of the Engineer's they were closet to the Makers, before and after Humanity was born.

Ifrit

Born in a time of war, there is an infernal class named the Ifrit, noted for their strength, cunning and fighting prowess. These Silver helms were the main fighting force in the War of Titans. Engineered by the Gods to be instruments of war. While ordinary weapons and forces have no power over them, they are susceptible to magic, which humans can use to kill them or to capture and enslave them. However, just as a dual bladed sword, the Ifrit are the best wielders of magic as well. Often depicted as wicked and ruthless beings, these characteristics being pinned on the Ifrit because they were made mentally and physically unstable. Ifrit run both hot or cold; they can be solace one second and the next be personified hatred. These attributes were implemented in them to make them extremely dangerous at all times. To control this inner unbalance the Ifrit developed a way of deep reflection to control themselves, later adopted by the humans and called Nirvana, or Yin Yang.

Venator

The Venator are a class often described as the most powerful type of Silverhelm, having especially great powers. These Silverhelms were made in a time of reconstruction, designed to hunt down their corrupted brethren. They possess incredible skills of speed, deception and shadow walking - the art of hiding in the shadow or even creating dark clouds to disappear in. For these reasons they are the most arrogant and proud as well. Like every Djinn, they have free will yet could be compelled to perform chores. According to folklore, they also have the ability to grant wishes to mortals, but that usually requires battle, imprisonment, rituals, or just a great deal of flattery.

Members

Kael Prime

Kael Prime

From the Eyes of the Prophet

In times of great peril, when no other choice is given, war is necessary. And in War, a great warrior is needed. When the Gods felt as if they had no other choice, and their enemies were rising up, they created what was needed. The Gods, shining beings from a world across the stars, were once the most powerful of all creation, but as time passed on their power began to fade. Their children, twisted to darker ways and through evil shaping, retaliated against their Fathers. When this happened and with only a few of their children left untainted, the Gods birthed a new creation... A child of war, Djinn of smokeless fire, the Ifrit were brought forth into existence, as warriors loyal only to the Gods, and among one of these kindling flames, was something not even the gods thought possible. A natural born leader, the Djinn of a new age, the lynchpin that held the universe in place, Kael Prime. Through his will and his strength he brought challenged the Usurper known as Tenebris, the darkening flame, a traitor to the free willed sons and daughters of the Gods themselves, The Silver Helms. This Djinn, was he who would bring order to chaos and reign in the new ages, the dawning of man. Record of his actions were mostly lost to the war in the heavens, but some souls remember... they remember as Kael cast down the Dark one upon a spire below, where one of Tenebris' four arms would be ripped from his wretched body, Kael descended upon the Usurper with no remorse and removed the very thing that allowed the Silver Helms a seat in the clouds, His face... Eons have passed, now burned and torn from the battle, the face of the traitor hangs from the belt of a traveler on the Earth below, one who has vowed protection of humanity, known to the humans only as the Pale Demon, Kael Prime awaits...

My Origins

I was not there for the Fall...

I was not alive to witness the birth of these events nor their unraveling. I was but conceived to end them. The day I was born was a dark and solace day; few words were spoken when I took my first steps into this plain. I cannot remember much of my first moments, but one image remains: the gleam of hope in the eyes of my Creators.

I was swiftly taken away and cloaked in attire of war and was told of my purpose, told of the fallen one. The Tale Weaver told me of the one known as Tenebris and how he and my kin fell from grace. He said I was the first of many to come, a new breed to keep the darkness at bay, a breed that would restore balance to the scales of life.

It was a short lived history lesson I received that day, for the enemies of light were on the threshold of our gates. I was taken to walls of our kingdom, there I first saw them. My brethren, only heinous shells of a Djinn now. Twisting and ripping their flesh and limbs of their physical form. On this day the usurper was not among the wrenched. As I stood in disgusted I was given my weapons for the first time. I felt their warm embrace, their undying love. Inside I could feel the darkness brewing, unlimited hatred consuming my light. I held my chest in fear, so much revulsion, so much atrocious absence I thought I was going to be consumed like my broken brothers. But then the light returned, and my mind was clear, no thoughts of the past, present nor future only my task. I lunged from the great walls to the gate, so quick that my Terrea brethren had difficultly witnessing this action and following. I kneeled there in the creator I created as the First of the Blight approached me. That fool. I wonder if he knew his fate, and the fate of his fellow fallen on that day, if he would of never strayed from the light.

A pity that we will never know...

In the days to follow my breed was mass produced, for the victories that I had won were great in number, and the Abominations feared the word Ifrit. For that was the sound of reckoning. We had lost great number of our people but we could not turn back now for the Dawn was in sight. On this day we were told the Usurper himself would finally show his warped face with the largest host of Abominations we had faced yet. This was the apex of our war. As we stood at the ledge of a former stronghold ruins of the East, we saw their masses engulf the horizon.

The skies were illuminated with the cities of the gods and the holy fire they rained at each other. We watched these behemoths obliterate each other, then finally, Tenebris unveiled himself, striding amongst his children, secreting hubris from his pours; I laid eyes on him for the first time. The stories were not exacerbated. I remember hearing him bellowing his dark gospel to the broken mongrels, as darkness itself spewed in physical form from his lips. He told them of our undoing that they would inflict upon us, and the similar fate awaiting the Humans after us.

The First Child of the gods stood next to me. We both could sense the unrest within our Silver brothers. He offered only one word to combat the dialogue spoken by the dark one. One word to embolden our righteous cause, one word to carry on our shoulder into Oblivion. "BELIEVE."

I could feel the fire ignite in all of us. I felt the darkness and light dance within me and the Ifrit, the Terrea blew the ancient horns of their fathers. Now was the time to end this war. We leaped from the destroyed temple, trembling the pillars of the Earth with our power. We pure Silver Helms charged the Abomination, and they the same to us. Our numbers clashed in a great force. The atrocities that took place cannot be explained by words, but what happened next can be. Along a lonely tower I saw the Dark One hacking down pure Djinn amongst the rubble, thus I intercepted him.

For the first time our eyes met and our swords crossed. I saw nothing but the absence of life within the abyss of his eyes, and the all too content grin upon his face. We hacked and slash at one another climbing the aging steps of the tower, until we reached its peak. There the endgame was played. A ruthless struggle ensued, but the ferocity of his attacks along with his unveiled four arm form proved to be a difficult task. In the midst of a borage of attacks I was swiftly taken from the side resulting in the lost of the tip of my horn. This move followed with a vicious kick to the chest, sending me through a pillar and into a wall. As I lifted myself from the floor I could hear the laughs of the Fallen. His words mocking me and my loyal kind, telling of how with my death it would lead to the deaths of all. He continued his onslaught of laughter and insults, thinking the day won. He was mistaken.

I stood. And without hesitation I threw a piece of the pillar into his face, shutting his putrid mouth. As he recovered his sight, it was met by the image of my holy fist breaking his face. As he was forced back I charged, plunging my should into his stomach lifting him and throwing us both through the wall on to the balcony. Tenebris regained a moment of clarity hurling me off him. We stood and engage in unarmed combat. The Usurper tried to him best to fight but I redirected each attack sending an immediate counter. Tenebris was flustered, desperate. Not knowing what to do he reached for my sword. Wielding it he led a string of blind attacks, I knew this was his end. I intercepted his final attack, breaking his arm in the process. I reclaimed my sword and hacked his arm from his torso, followed by a swift kick to the head, laying him on his back.

"Now you see your proper place among us, laying in the dirt were the deceivers belong," I said as I approached him. The skies were ablaze to the side of us, filled with the war in the heavens and the Earth covered with the dead.

"All of this, Tenebris, all of this could have never been if you had just obeyed, if you had just listened." Laying there he rekindled his smile.

Laughing the Usurper said, "You fool, my actions gave birth to you. Without me you would not exist, I...am...your GOD." Absent words I approached the Deceiver and kneeled over his chest, positioning my sword I took the one thing that joined us together... his face.

His screams echoed for miles, bringing the field of battle to suspension. The masses look to the origin of the horrendous noise only to see me standing at the edge of the tower. As they looked at me I lifted the face of the Fallen. The Silver helms cheered, and Abomination howled with fear. The Blight took to flight and the great Djinn cut them down. Their cities plunge from the skies in pieces. Many escaped, but it did not matter for we have won.

The First child of the Gods met me at the Towers peak. We stood there watching our brother rejoicing along the fields. Few words were said but the relief of the war's end was obvious. As we stood silent embracing the moment we heard whispers from the Fallen. We approached the broken Titan trying to decode what he was mumbling. It was an ancient language, one far too old for me to know, but not for the First Born. He listen closely to the faint seeping words, listening to the message within them. First Born said nothing, he only replied with a stern and disgusted look. With the Abomination scattered to the wind, the Darken Light Tenebris was taking and lock away deep into his prison, force to watch the very beings he hated thrive across the Earth. Thus Ended the War of the Titans, ushering in a time of prosperity...for now.

The Prophet

Prophet

Acheron

Acheron

BEAЯ

Bear

Ra Carnefex

Ra Carnefex

Jester

Jester

Kaia

The Priestess

In the Eyes of the Prophet

The ripples of a limpid pool push out to its edges and fall unto the ground below, the blood of a wounded serpent is washed away. The pendulum that once hung above the crystal water is pulled into its depths, and a light reappears below the surface. A flame, flickering in the pool begins to rise, steam replaces water and the flame engulfs the bowl. The fire pours out unto the marble floor and spreads to the shadows, as the shadow is stripped away by light, figures appear standing around the flame. Hundreds of them have come, they have answered the call of the fire and light. They are the keepers and so shall the fire spread.

I lived a normal life as the seventh priestess of Shamash. My life was mundane, with nothing to look forward to other than tending to my garden within the temple walls. That was until the day all of the priestesses of the temple were called to a meeting. Rumors of attacks had spread to our ears, but Azel, our highest Priestess confirmed them as true and that whoever was making the attacks were looking for us. Not long after the meeting did the attackers come to our door step. While everyone was on their knees praying to Shamash, I was the only one to stand and fight. Our words would have no effect against the two fallen Silver Helms that burst into our shrine. Just as the two intruders were about to kill us, Kael Prime came through the shattered doors and destroyed the two trespassers. We were in his debt. After our temple was cleaned and repairs were made, another meeting was held with Kael as our guest. He had been tracking the abominations for decades, watching their every move. He warned us that the fallen were after our temple and that there was only a few days between us and them. The room erupted in a panic, except for Azel.

“You know why they are after this shrine, don’t you,” Kael asked, causing the rest of us to wonder what he had meant.

Azel nodded her grey head and lifted her wrinkled hand, pointing towards the shrine. “Under the altar there is a stairwell. It leads to a room that Shamash himself had created. In that room lies a weapon that can only be wielded by some but can kill all things that exist.” The room fell silent, only Kael’s voice cut through.

“It’s called the Sunspear,” he explained, “and the Abominations are after it. The Sunspear has enough power to wipe out the Silver Helm race and then you humans. Thankfully we have a few days between us and them, so I will be fortifying your town and making sure you have somewhat of a chance to survive.”

Those next few weeks changed my entire life. As much of a pompous asshole as Kael turned out to be, he helped us in a way that no one else would be able to. He taught our people how to fight and how to put up a proper defense. He reinforced our walls with archers and spikes and traps and trained me during his free time. It was hard at first. My body rejected his demands, but after three days of intense one-on-one training, I finally learned how to fight. Although I was never as good as Kael, he reassured me that I had the ability to hold my own against those who were coming for us.

However, one day, while Kael was away for his morning meditation, our temple received a visitor. None of us had seen him before, being tall and rather pale. He was dressed in the finest silk robes, with gold embroidery woven throughout the garment. He looked regal. When he came to our temple, the people gathered around to find out who this stranger was, curious to know what he had to offer to us. What he told us, however, confused me.

With everyone gathered, the man raised his arms and began to speak, his voice deep and booming. “I am Shamash, god of the sun. I am here to help defend you from these creatures, but I need the Sunspear returned to me.”

Having a man come into our temple claiming to be Shamash seemed rather unlikely to me, but while I was criticizing, the other were bowing their heads. Out of curiosity, I left the temple in search of Kael, wondering if he had an answer to why this supposed god showed up to our door step. After walking around for a few moments, I spotted him off in the distance, meditating on a rock.

When I told him everything that had happened, Kael placed his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve done well to know that he was not real. Come, I’ll help you.” With that said, he grabbed my hand and lead me to his sleeping quarters. In that small room, he had a desk that was filled with different concoctions and elixirs, all having a specific task.

“Here,” he said after mixing a few together and handing me a small vile. “This is a potion of my own creation. When you get the chance, throw this right at him. This will make him reveal his true form, so if he is who he says he is, then all will be well.”

“And if he isn’t,” I asked.

“Then I will make sure that no harm will come to anyone within that room.”

With a few deep breaths, I clutched the fragile bottle to my chest and lead the way back to the temple. My shaking hands lifted to open the door, revealing this supposed Shamash sitting in the center of my people. When Kael stepped into the room behind me, he stood up, his facial expression turned from pleasure to ferocious anger. “Who are you to come into my temple?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Kael leave my side to circle around the group, obviously intending to distract the being from me. Taking his queue, I walked around the other way, clutching the elixir tight in my hand.

“I am Kael Prime and I am here to protect these people from the oncoming danger. Who might you be?”

The words exchanged from Kael to this man were calm, but those coming from this Shamash were filled with fury.

“I am Shamash, god of the sun. This is my temple and I will not allow you to corrupt my people!”

Taking my chance, I raised the bottle and popped off the cork with an audible sound, directing everyone’s attention to me. “Hey asshole,” I yelled, causing him to snap his head towards me, and as soon as he did, I tossed the bottle.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion from then on. The bottle flying through the air, it shatter against his cheek and the transformation that took place in front of us. Steam, or smoke I couldn’t tell which one, rose from his skin as it all but melted off of his form. The screams that came from his mouth terrified those of us who were in the room, causing me to run for Kael. When the ordeal in front of us finished and the being rose, we saw his true form. The body of a true abomination. And from beside me I heard Kael whisper his name. Aten.

He was hideous. His silver skin was not as silver as Kaels, with a black goo covering most of it and seeping from his orifices. When he lifted his head, he dark, blank eyes landed on my own, making Kael step in front of me for protection. “I will come for you,” he said ferociously, “and when I do, you will be no more.” And with that, Aten burst out of our temple, leaving us to wonder when he would return.

Four weeks passed and all of us felt as though we were ready. On that day, we heard the horde beyond the tree line outside of our walls. It started off as a loud screeching noise that pierced the ears of us humans, but to Kael, it was simply a cry of war. Mere seconds after the noise subsided, our walls were being peppered with huge, nasty abominations. They were hideous, some more than others. Our defense was impeccable, but no matter how hard we tried, they still managed to break through and get into our city. Kael urged me to take cover with the other women and children, but I refused. I demanded that he allow me to fight alongside him and looking back at that conversation, I wish I had listened.

Kael was amazing. He was able to defeat anything that came up against him. As for myself, however, I was able to hold my own for a while, that is, as long as I was near Kael. I could fight, but our attackers must have figured that I needed Kael, because one minute I was right beside him, and the next we had at least six meters between us. At first I didn’t panic, but then I saw him. I saw Aten, running towards me at full speed. I tried to step to the left so his momentum could keep him going, but he knew what I was doing. He faked a step to the right, pivoted, and knocked my shield out from my grip. I raised my sword arm to take a swipe across his torso, but he caught the blade with his bare hand.

Pain shot through my left leg as he kicked my knee out, causing me to lose my balance. He must have been aiming for my stomach, but since I was slumping to the ground in pain, his fist made contact with my chest, sending me flying back and into a wall. I couldn’t think properly. I couldn’t see sufficiently and the only thing running through my head was the absolute agony I felt in my chest. The last thing I remember was seeing the Pure Form of a Silver Helm with four arms and dark eyes ripping apart anything in front of me.

I thought I had died. The pain I had been experiencing never seemed to stop when I opened my eyes once more. My knee and chest were colored with pain. As my eyes scanned the room, they fell upon Kael who sat at my bedside. He announced to me that we had survived the attack. The Sunspear was still safely in our keeping. Our losses were great and so were the wounded, but my condition was not something that he wanted to speak about. Before I could voice my confusion, our healer approached me as he stood and left the infirmary. She admitted I had suffered a blow to my knee that would eventually heal, though, I would still have some difficulty with it, but my heart was not so lucky. As a result of me being punched in the chest, my heart was permanently injured. Although I could still fight, I knew that I would never be able to fight the same.

A few weeks later, after the town had been repaired and most of the wounded healed, a celebration was announced. It would mark the day that we had warded off the Fallen and to honor Kael for his heroism. That night, I put on my best robes and was gifted with a staff made by the other priestesses to help me walk. Kael also greeted me just outside of my lodgings, offering his arm to also help me walk and promised that he would always keep his arm reserved for my use. After that battle, I asked Kael if he would be returning to his usual nomadic ways, almost hoping that he would choose to stay with me. He promised me that he would never leave my side and would always be there to protect me and my people.

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