Chronicles of Azetyth

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Chronicles of Azetyth Empty Chronicles of Azetyth

Post by Myth on Sat Apr 27, 2019 12:48 am

In a land where civilization still battles against nature, there are five bastions from winter and war. The people of this land are pitted against rain and snow, lions and looters but they do not shirk  nor cower. Braving the crags of the mountains and the coasts of the sea, the people grow with their adversity.

Of the five towns, Azetyth is the newest. Though they have the most to prove, they are driven to excel. From the march to the Mine and away to the Island Cave, they strain for all there is to gain. The Stone Quarry provides a foundation and the Iron Quarry; the tools to sow the soil and the toil of the town. With the aid of  Sarmiz, Spero, Camaar, the Lands of the Lords searching for the Grail, are hale. And Azetyth has the most to grow and grow they show a way to a greater destiny.

The Chronicles of Azetyth.
Loyal to the End.




(This is meant to be a start off post. Anybody and everybody is encouraged to join. It might be a one off anecdote or something ongoing, we just want participation)

Myth
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Post by Myth on Thu Jun 06, 2019 1:07 am

The day had started normally enough; checking the fields, tending the animals, washing up, and touring the hospital. It was after the standard fair, as Myth had been deciding what to do with the rest of his day, that everything went helter skelter. Fittingly it was his friend and mayor, GodsFortune, that broke the news.
    A relic had been detected.
    No one quite knew what they were and the Grail Lords seized them before an in-depth study could be done. Some thought they were miniature Grails and proof that this was the correct area for all the Grail Knights. Others thought the relics were fragments of the true Grail and the Lords were trying reforge it.
    Regardless, the rumor of a relic was often followed by a flurry of activity. Which was how Myth found himself traversing the mountains south of Azetyth. The area was unnamed as far as Myth knew but he thought of them as the Ares Mountains because they were dangerous and, largely, useless beyond that.
    A cantankerous bleat shattered the stillness and Myth blinked a few times before he believed that his way was really being blocked by a mountainous ram. It bleated and pawed and snorted, making a ruckus.
    Myth sighed tiredly. The path was small and the ram big.It made it seem impossible for Myth to continue without killing the thing.
    “Look, billy goat gruff, we don’t have to do this. Just move, go somewhere else,” Myth wasn’t sure if the animal got impatient or angry at being called a goat but it charged. He couldn’t help but feel exasperated, the Ares Mountains really were useless.
    Myth waited until he could practically feel the snort the ram, before he twisted, planted his back against the wall, and kicked out with both feet. The ram was launched over the edge.
    “So long,” Myth said softly as he watched the poor, stupid animal plummet. “Well, time to get moving.”
    Myth dusted himself off but paused when he heard another bleat from around the bend.
    “No.”
    His appeal went unheeded. Around the next bend was a bigger, angrier ram.
******
    Myth continued, not bothering to dust himself off this time. The path wrapped around, and so, had another bend coming up. This close to the peak, there were not many unbroken paths. There was a large flat area, that would be coming up and might be worth searching for the relic.
    The ram was silent as it blocked any further progress and Myth even considered if it were a hallucination, until it shifted to stay centered on him.
    “Again? We’re doing this again?”
******
    Myth stared at the infestation of rams. They filled one of the valleys had planned to search but the clamoring and yammering echoed off the cliffs and robbed Myth of any desire to continue. It had been an odd day; stalked by a mountain lion, fighting three rams, and the rams family reunion.
    For a moment, Myth wondered what it would take to collapse the cliffs and kill all of the creatures but the sound of flapping wings redirected his attention. A carrier pigeon alighted on Myth’s outstretched arm. Ribbons with the heraldry of the Grail Lords drifted with the breeze. It fluffed up and cooed as Myth scratched its head.
    “Hello, Aldrin. Must have been quite the flight. What news did you bring me?” Myth wondered aloud as he opened the messenger case. “Oh, thank the Grail, Mantas found the relic already.”
    Myth glanced back at the rams and gave a relieved sigh. “Lets get out of here, Aldrin. Time to head back to Azetyth.”
    He still had no idea what to do with the rest of his day but it would beat all the bleating.

Myth
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Post by mailmeharry2008 on Mon Dec 09, 2019 11:55 pm

Harry a new carpenter who recently joined the Azetyth Carpenter Guild, started working under apprenticeship of "Brown". The beginning was hard, and he has to struggle for food. He also suffered with minor diseases too due to being poor and lack of entertainment activities. With the help of good leaders like "Myth" and "Godsfortune" of Azetyth and almighty God he is now able to earn bread on his own as he started a side job of being Merchant, with the goal of improving Azetyth town by fulfiling their needs, to ease the future generations that are loyal to Azetyth town.

mailmeharry2008
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Post by Myth on Fri Mar 27, 2020 4:19 am

Myth tapped his face down card and looked skeptically at the witch. She never ventured into the towns and so never participated in any of the black jack tournaments. In light of that, Myth visited her and brought cards along on occasion. He had just figured that they would switch off playing dealer and chatting would be the main way to pass the time. The witch had summoned an imp to play dealer instead. After, it wasn’t always an imp and the witch invited others to their games; Mermaids, Riley LeBeau, lost goblins, and what might be demons. Thankfully they were cheerful losers, after the out and out brawl that is.
    This time it was just an imp to be dealer and the witch being oddly smug. It was disconcertingly quite. And she was Clotho today.
    “You are normally wearing a different face. The cutter of threads,” Myth said as he continued to tap his card.
    “Oh, Atropos wanted a break before the barbarians arrive. She doesn’t rest much during their invasion.”
    Not for the first time, Myth considered the futility of playing a game of chance with a witch that might truly be Fate.
    Clotho grinned at Myth before continuing, “Besides, for what you want to request, I am the best one to be present. I do enjoy pranks more than the others.”
    Is she Fate? Myth reconsidered one of the scarier possibilities he’d come across while in the Grail Lands. He hadn’t explicitly stated what he wanted to do but he might have left too many hits along the way.
    “Should I assume that you have made it already?” Myth said. He hoped to clear the air.
    Clotho placed a bottle on the table, laughter in her eyes. “It will make the cows go wild. Yours to have. If you win this next hand.”
    A Queen up and a King down. 20 points. It would win most games but… in her eyes, there was laughter and also there was a dare.
    “Hit me.”

Myth
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