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Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 28 and got 1 heir(s) (Kayn).

Kay'ne survived the tutorial, the natives were easy prey. Now to start his first time in Fantasia upon hearing bad things about this place.

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It begins.

Now apart of a Kingdom, Kay'ne feels more confident. However, he had been attacked and lost a valuable city taken by a neighboring Kingdom. It was quite a surprise as he was led to believe they were friends.

No matter! Kay'ne has reclaimed what was his, and slaughtered the fiend who enslaved his people.

It seems a bigger surprise is in store for this young warrior. The armies approach, but he will stand firm, and never relent until his enemies destruction or his own death.

Either way will be glorious.

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The battle was quick.

Kay'ne held off the enemies as long as he could with little help. Waves of armies from his enemies were directed at him, and even now Kay'ne can put up a good fight, but he has been ordered to stand down. At this moment, Kay'ne can easily crush most of his enemies armies, but he will obey his orders even if his pride get hurt. Thats what honor means.

The loss of his cities are saddening. Working hard to build them up, to be ripped away without being allowed to reclaim them is painful. But seeing how easily Kay'ne was able to dispatch those puppies makes it all the better.

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The last city.

And then it came. The enemy's lines seemed endless, inspiring much fear. But Kay'ne was no ordinary leader, and his men were no ordinary soldiers. Truth to tell, many women are included in the elite guard, and every one of them could kill an experienced soldier or soul-less monster bare handed.

As the threat came, Kay'ne and his forces charged into the mass. Weapons whirling with tinted fresh cut crimson. The charge continued with heavy losses, on both sides. But it ended gloriously by turning the remaining enemy infantry back to its people. Few survived.

A celebration on the grandest scale commenced that night. All knew of inevitabilities, but they do not speak of it. They were celebrating that day! Their dead comrades! Of those they love! And to those who will sacrifice tomorrow...

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Betrayed.

Ordered to leave all cities to start over in hopes of being able to sustain. Kay'ne's pride could not let him stand down his last city, thus defending all threats by force. Of course this was against his orders resulting in banishment.

Alone, Kay'ne is surrounded by his former kinsmen, now enemies. The decisions weigh heavily, but actions must be taken.

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 28, got 1 heir(s) (Kayn) and was a member of Ritz

x

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 29 and got 1 heir(s) (Kayn).

Puttin'on the Ritz!

Ms. Kayn


Lived in Era 30, got 1 heir(s) (Kayn) and was a member of Flamers United

Still kickin, kung FU style!

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 31, got 1 heir(s) (Bane) and was a member of Flamers United

x

Mr. Bane


Lived in Era 31 and got 1 heir(s) (Kayn).

x

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 32 and got 1 heir(s) (Kayn).

It begins again.

Always the target, and always a threat.

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 32 and got 1 heir(s) (Kayn).

x

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 32 and got 1 heir(s) (Kayn).

x

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 32, got 1 heir(s) (Kayn) and was a member of Angels

x

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 33, got 1 heir(s) (Kayn) and was a member of Dark Blood

x

Mr. Kayn


Lived in Era 34, got 1 heir(s) (Kayn) and was a member of Dark Blood

Taken from The Chronicles of Kayne.
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Moonlight cast long shadows across the damp forest floor. The only sounds heard were the grunts and motions of a group of trolls making camp. Two small hobgoblins were busy digging a pit preparing a fire, while a third larger goblin went about unloading a sturdy two-wheeled iron wagon.

Upon the wagon was a large cage with bars so thick its interior was only visible through tiny slits where light slipped through. Another smaller cage containing two men big enough to lie down was being dragged off with its contents groaning in the process. The goblin hauled the cage off to the side of the fire pit, and quickly went back to the wagon unloading various other items.

Trolls are a very dominant race. With three classes within the race, a constant battle is being fought determining superiority. Hobgoblins being the smallest, are usually at the bottom class, with the exception of those who become mages. They have bulbous heads with a large lower jaw propped over wide shoulders and short legs. A thick grey, almost elephant-like skin covers their hairless bodies. Status or class is determined by size and strength, and oddly enough, the size of their under-bite. Lacking in creative intelligence, most of their weapons and armor come from plunder or given as payment by more powerful beings scheming and plotting for one reason or another, usually ending in their own deaths or the lives of innocent men, women, and children.

The fire now lit, and the pit ready for roasting, the two goblins went to help ready the evening meal. They lurched over to the human cage and pulled the first man out by his ankles screaming in panic. One goblin grabbed hold of the man tight keeping him from moving while the other fetched an iron rod. The man crying, begging, pleading to every God known to him, was finally silenced by the rod passing through his throat. His screaming was replaced by a ghastly gurgle followed by the crunching and snap of metal passing through bone and tissue only to exit the genitals. The hobgoblins laughter echoed across the valley like a thunderous storm.

Clothes and all, the man was roasted in the fire, his body still twitching. No sooner were the garments burned to ash was the body removed, torn apart, and eaten. The second man seeing this began quivering causing a rattle in the cage gaining the notice of his captors.

The largest of the group went off into the thick of the bushes no doubt to relieve it self. One would wonder at why it would care to be hidden in such matters, yet who can tell the mind of a monster. The two others after a quick word in some unintelligible grunt-like language got up and advanced on their captive.

“Please!” the man cried. “Leave me! Have you not had your fill with my brother?”

That seemed to get the goblins attention for it then attempted speech. “N..No uhhs.” it bellowed, “Fooood… Beehzak!” so saying while pointing to the large cage still mounted on the wagon.

As if on cue, the cage and wagon began to shake. The clang of iron chains against the metal bars rang out in a deafening ruckus. The man let out a scream as the goblins continued their advance on him. He was pulled out in the same manner as the last, and held tight in a bone crushing grip. The second goblin, without bothering to remove the last bits of flesh from the rod, made his way to the victim.

Before he could get 5 paces, a flash flew out of the dark surroundings to embed itself in the goblins head. The bolt had made its way through the back of the skull exiting in a point out the temple. Like a sac of turnips, the hobgoblin toppled to the ground without so much as a croak.

The goblin holding the man throws him to the ground and lets out a yell for his bigger friend, but was only greeted by its severed head rolling out of the bushes. Realizing this change of events, the beast runs towards the wagon. He reaches directly for the massive iron crossbar, and pulls out the lock dropping it to the earth with a loud thud. Instantly the doors swung open smashing the goblin senseless to the ground.

The berserker was seven and a half feet tall wearing a ragged loin cloth and thick chains buckled with an iron clasp on each forearm. A huge mass of pulsating veins over a mountain of muscle stretched tightly over the entire dark grayish form. It is said a Berserker is an amalgamation of various races of trolls, and rumor has it that a human female is the last step in its creation. The result is truly a display of such ferocity that which would instill fear in the Daevi himself.

It leaped out landing one giant foot on the unconscious goblin crushing its skull in a gruesome pop. Looking at the stunned man then at its dead masters, it burst a roar of triumph drowning the forest for miles.

Another bolt flew from the dark landing before the creature’s feet startling it back a pace. Before it could react, a dark figure came sprinting from the bushes holding a thin long sword held back streamlined against his body. Dark hair was tied around the back and tucked under a dark cloak, however due to the lack of light he may have had any shade. Not the slightest sound was made save the wind whistling along the slender blade. Sliding low in mid spin, the man sliced through the beast’s right knee. As the berserker came down, the blade came up cleanly slicing through the neck to decapitate the head in a crimson fountain.

Even headless, the beast continued to thrash around. Had it not been for the missing leg, it would still continue to wreak havoc. One can only imagine what an army of such creatures could do in close battle.

The dark warrior cleaned his blade on the rags of the nearest goblin and walked over to the terrified man frozen in fear.

“Get up man!” The warrior said peering down over the pitiful human. “It’s over.”

The frightened man lay there shaking in fear, lost in the fire.

“Did’ya here what I said man? Get up!”

Finally the witless man turns to look at his mysterious savior. “Th..thank the Zeta. Wh… who are you?”

But he was gone…
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