Original Content To the Ends of the Earth


New member
It's been a long time since I settled down, claimed a home of my own, lived somewhere rather than simply passing through. We all make sacrifices I suppose, and the reward was... is, still well worth the cost. I've been from the high mountians of the Wenagi homelands, where the air is thin in your lungs, and moving too quickly can be fatal, to the swampy islands of the Qwa'ctl, where massive snakes that can swallow a whale whole slither around trees larger than some cities. I've gone from the freezing north to the icy south, I've traversed the great dunes of the Dragon's Stretch, I've gone so far west I ended where I began. And still I wander.

I've consulted with Kings and Mages, Emperors and Dragons, I've had men and women of all races seek me out, and monsters hunt me till they fell dead of exhaustion. I've sung songs that make stones weep, I've written poems that make the sky tremble with emotion.

And I am dying.

Over a thousand years I have walked this Earth, learning and teaching, guiding and being guided. I have fought to destroy and fought to protect, and when the price of my immortality came due I was found lacking. The monsters that now stalk the world are not of flesh and bone, they are of whisper and shadow. They are knives in the dark and sorceries hidden. I can no longer hold them back.

I am the Guardian of Infinity, and when I die the world may well fall into ruin. Is it hubris? To assume that I alone can save the world? Is it envy? To wonder what life I could have led had I not picked up this wonderful, terrible burden? Is it Wrath? To rage against the ine inevitability of death I had evaded for so long? Is it Jealousy? To guard my secrets so stubbornly, even as I die? Whatever my sin is, it matters little.

The world is a far different place than it was a millennia ago. Stones and rituals replaced with iron and spells, crude mud huts have become grand stone cities, a pile of sticks and logs replaced by massive polished walls. The people of today are so far beyond what they were at my birth, and yet they are the same. War rages ceaselessly, and I fear a day of peace for all will never come. I have toiled, sweat, blood and tears leaving long weathered lines down my face, I have fought, pleaded, educated, and none of it matters in the end.

This stone tablet will be the totality of my legacy. And the one who finds it will bear the same blessing and burden that I have. They will weep, and laugh, they will watch those they love age and die as they remain unchanged, they will hold the balance of the world and they will fail. Nothing is certain though. Light shines through even the darkest clouds.

For you who finds this, I pray you will give your all to this task. Be you Qwa'ctl, Wenagi, Human, Dragon, Tuatha or Dalmar. I can feel the years, faster than should be possible. The purpose of life is to feed more life, and that requires death. There is no end to life, merely the growth of more. These thoughts will and you, as they did me.

By my hand and the will of Infinity,
The Gaurdian.


New member
A short prolouge to my world. I'll be posting this here, with links on r/hfy redirecting to arkmuse.

Constructive criticism is always appreciated, spell-checkers are wonderful, and grammar nazis are welcome as well. Let me know what you think.