Family History
Mr. Kulren Drathor
Lived in Era 22 and got 1 heir(s) (Kulren).
King of the Legion
Kulren Drathor is a 25,178 year old Hell Dragon, half the age of his father, Tasthos Drathor.
Like his father and uncle, Dael Drathor, Kulren is generally peaceful. But once riled into battle, is as brutal, merciless, and dirty as the lower demon ranks.
During peacetime, Kulren enjoys talking with those who follow him and those who neighbor him. While a slow diplomat, Kulren is a strong one, as he is usually calm, collected, and rarely snaps at anyone. The only one who always fetches the brunt end of Kulren's anger is his own father, for reasons Kulren has not yet explained.
Kulren is the founding father of a number of worlds. His existance on Mantrax, however, is a bit of a mystery.
Mr. Kulren
Lived in Era 22 and got 1 heir(s) (Kulren Drathor).
King of the Legion.
Reviving himself on Starta, Kulren has no intention of dying so easily at the hands of a foolish mortal with pathetic plans of conquest. Not satisfied with some success in recruiting a following on Mantrax, Kulren is ready to try his luck with a new start on Starta.
With an old friend of his and a new follower. Kulren prepares for a new attempt. However, his eyes are ever watchful of those around him.....
Mr. Kulren Drathor
Lived in Era 22, got 1 heir(s) (Tyra Jil) and was a member of The Legion
~King of the Legion
Again pushed back into the nether from Starta, Kulren opens his portals to Nirvana.
Kulren moves faster than ever now, to find allies and members. His desire to raise new warriors and create the Legion's honorable name as quick as ever. And his dwarves continue to loyally server their demonic master, even as Kulren prepares to open a new Hellgate linking this world to his birthland of Hell....
Sir Tyra Jil
Lived in Era 23, got 1 heir(s) (Tyrajil) and was a member of The Legion
Standing 6'7", with a blue mane, Tyra'Jil is a Pharlan, a winged creature rare outside their homeworld of Rona.
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The Beginning
-Rona, Hall of Councils
-Midday
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Golden eyes gazed at Tyra'Jil as he spoke to the Pharlan council. "This day Kulren leaves me in charge of the Legion... I will command it as he would, and lead his people..."
"If you do so, Tyra'Jil, you do so in the name of Rona and our people."
"I cannot..." Tyra'Jil stated, "I would break the promise I made to Kulren if I were to lead it as if it were a holding of our people, the Pharlans."
Tyra'Jil turned and walked out of the council chamber, his black cloak billowing around his cruel, black daedric armor. Tyra'Jil took flight, headed to Mantrax.
And so, Tyra'Jil's reign over the Legion began.....
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Second Moon
-Mantrax, Town of Seyda Need
-Dawn
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Tyra'Jil's white shirt and jeans shifted, his armor removed and sitting in his equipment chest near his bed. Seyda Need was growing, as was Ola Had.
Tyra'Jil was homesick, just a little, and the names of his two favorite small towns in his homeland lifted his spirits, if only just a little.
The Pharlan was, in Pharlan years, only 17, but to humans, he was around six times that age.
Tyra'Jil's golden eyes had long ago hardened so that no emotion or light of life escaped them. He had gone through many battles in his life, and Mantrax would not be anything new to him. His blue feathered tail whipped the air before he spread his wings, letting the sun filter onto them to warm his body.
Tyra'Jil had grown used to the warm climates, like Mantrax. But he prefered the icy realms of Solstheim, where he had made his home in the mountain forests. Tyra'Jil loved the hunt, the feel of battle. Blood drew any Pharlan. But it was not the kill. It was the thrill, the challenge. They enjoyed pushing their limits, not the slaughter. Tyra'Jil thought to himself that it was at last time for a hunt.....
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Seventh Moon
-Mantrax, Fort Moonmoth
-Late morning
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Tyra'Jil walks into the new construction of Fort Moonmoth, and carefully appraises the fortifications. Pharlans, dwarves, and humans hussle, working on building walls as quickly as possible. With Seyda Need and Ola Had topping their wall defenses off, Moonmoth was now getting swamped with the surplus stone.
A young pharlan Captain ran up and saluted Tyra'Jil, "Admiral Tyra'Jil, of the Knights of Rona, I am Captain Syrvis Elstior."
"Aren't you from Sessho's elitist forces? Under the command of a Shienja?"
"Aye! But how di-"
"I may not speak with politicians, but I know their doings..." Tyra'Jil stated, walking with Syrvis towards the fort gates, "Tell me, where is you leader now?"
"I do not know where Admiral Vek'Jarhd is."
"A Ryukossein?! In command of Pharlans?" Tyra'Jil rose a brow.
"Aye, he and General Esiphiri arrived here with us last night."
Tyra'Jil scratched his chin before speaking, "Assigned to my command?"
"Yes sir."
"What is Rylan up to?" Tyra'Jil murmured, turning his attention to the approaching armored blue draconian, a Ryukossein Warmage.
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Twelvth Moon
~Mantrax, City of Seyda Need
~Noon
___
Tyra'Jil was filtering through the usual clutter of transactions, training reports, and beaurocratic files. He turned his head as a brunette woman walked in, her long brown hair trailing behind her. Her lithe form, shaped from forty years of wilderness, was flawless. Her green eyes glistened with mirth.
Tyra'Jil turned to his papers, "Can I help you?"
"Yes... It's been almost thirty years since I last saw you, Dysingil."
The name made Tyra'Jil's hand freeze upon another file. Memories he had long thought buried rushed into his mind. Tyra'Jil turned and spoke, "Elnis... My name is Tyra'Jil now..."
"Very well, my lord... Funny, from a slave to a lord of power..."
"Do we have to bring up this past?" Tyra'Jil shakes his head. I would prefer to keep that buried..."
"Very well... I was hoping that I could enlist in the service of the Knights of Rona..."
Tyra'Jil rose a brow, "........."
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Sixteenth Moon
~Troop Camp, Sephiroth's 7th Division
~Midnight
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Silver hair shifted as Sephiroth stood, gazing eastward. He had his orders to create an armory south of Old Owl Well and hold it. Tyra'Jil was expanding again, and he wasn't taking prisoners...
Elnis walked up behind him, "General..."
"Report Leiutinant..."
"Troops are ready..."
"Give the order to pack up the tents... We're moving out..."
"Yes sir."
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Thirtieth Moon
~Mantrax, Town of Badmofo
~Dawn
___
The bells rang and troops were scuffling. Sephiroth was approaching the city and no one wanted be caught with their pants down. The former Vampire city turned Legion armory had been highly active before, but if Sephiroth was assuming command, the mills and battalions were going to break.
The young leader of the converted fort saluted Sephiroth as he arrived ahead of his army, "Sir! you honor us with you presence..."
"You can dispense with the pleasantries Vandir... My stationing here is temporary, until you and your men recieve additional training and support."
"What is Tyra'Jil going to do?"
"That, unfortunately, was not in my orders... Tyra'Jil was unusually vague, except he is going to personally oversee the project about to begin."
Vandir knew that for the greatest Knight of Rona and the leader of the entire Legion to be involved, the matter was as serious as could be. What project did Tyra'Jil have in mind?
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341st moon
~Mantrax, Suran
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Tyra'Jil watched Flames rush into the city and turned to Noynna, nodding. She smiled and cast her spell, and with a blinding flash of light, everyone- Tyra'Jil's dwarves, Tyra'Jil himself, Noyanna, and the civilians of Suran- vanished without a trace.
Flame was left with a ghost town. A town with nothing more than whispering phantoms and howling ghosts..
But deep inside Suran's now sealed catacombs... Something stirred... Something Tyra'Jil left behind was waking up...