zigur.lua

-- ToME - Tales of Maj'Eyal
-- Copyright (C) 2009, 2010 Nicolas Casalini
--
-- This program is free software: you can redistribute it and/or modify
-- it under the terms of the GNU General Public License as published by
-- the Free Software Foundation, either version 3 of the License, or
-- (at your option) any later version.
--
-- This program is distributed in the hope that it will be useful,
-- but WITHOUT ANY WARRANTY; without even the implied warranty of
-- MERCHANTABILITY or FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE.  See the
-- GNU General Public License for more details.
--
-- You should have received a copy of the GNU General Public License
-- along with this program.  If not, see <http://www.gnu.org/licenses/>.
--
-- Nicolas Casalini "DarkGod"
-- darkgod@te4.org

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-- Zigur
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newLore{
	id = "zigur-post",
	category = "zigur",
	name = "Rules of the Ziguranth",
	lore = [[1. You will not talk about Zigur to the wider world, lest evil ears be listening.
2. You will shun the use of all spells and witchcraft.
3. You will shun the use of magic-cursed items.
4. You will shun the baneful influence of arcane runes and burn any skin that comes in contact with them.
5. You will not aid or abet any you suspect of wizardry or conjuration.
6. You will take note of any you suspect of spellweaving and report their name and address to the elders.
7. You will actively hunt down and bring suffering upon any you suspect of using magic, communing with spirits, demon worship, or any you suspect of aiding others in these acts.
8. You will report to the elders all activity you deem suspicious, especially evidence of cults or secret societies.

These are the rules we live by, these are the rules by which we will save our world. All who fail in these rules will be purged with flame.]],
}

newLore{
	id = "zigur-history",
	category = "zigur",
	name = "The Great Evil",
	lore = [[We live in a world of wonders. All around us are natural energies and wild powers that are a marvel to see and experience. Soaring birds, mighty bears and ice-breathing dragons all abound in towering mountains, deep oceans and luscious forests. And we are part of this glorious environment, with our thoughts and strengths and all our wondrous capabilities. Truly we live in a fantastic world, and we should be glad to have a place amongst the wonders of Maj'Eyal.

But some are not content. Some seek to pervert the wonders of the world with unnatural powers. With arcane forces they rip the threads of nature apart and sew it back however they see fit, uncaring of the damage they cause. Sometimes it is out of curiosity or a misplaced desire to do good, but normally it is out of greed and malice and a perverse obsession with power. Even those who enter into the banes of magic with good intentions inevitably end up doing harm and becoming themselves corrupted by the gross forces they tamper in.

History teaches us well the dangers of these forces. First were the Sher'Tul, of which we know little, but we do know that they manipulated magic to strengths beyond the dreams of current mages. And they led themselves to their own utter destruction. Alas that the lesson was not learnt by the younger races. The first recorded war in our history is between the humans and halflings for control of Sher'Tul ruins. Magic was used in those wars and the battles only stopped after two thousand years of slaughter left both sides too crippled to carry on fighting. It was in this time that our order was formed, and we tried to stop the insanity and the bloodshed. Alas that we failed.

The weakening of our peoples by the magic-fuelled fighting left us then open to attacks by the orcs, whose surging numbers nearly overwhelmed us. But instead of relying on our own strengths and our natural defences, the foolish elves decided that only the arcane forces could save us. How very wrong they were... Their insidious mages tapped the vile powers of the Sher'Tul ruins and unleashed catastrophic waves of energy that burned half the world to a cinder. Mountains crumbled, lakes were boiled, and raging fires stripped the land of all life. The devastation can truly never be fully stated. But it is unforgettable and utterly unforgiveable. The Shaloren try to deny responsibility, but the blood of millions is on their hands.

The suffering that followed the unfortunate survivors lasted centuries, as the unnatural forces created black plagues that wiped out kingdoms and made huge swathes of land uninhabitable. Dread warlocks and necromancers took advantage of the chaos to raise armies and gain power. Kor'Pul was the deadliest of these, and our order fought long and hard to kill him time and time again. We fought viciously to protect the people of Maj'Eyal from all the terrible pains of this time.

But our efforts could not prevent the ultimate tragedy that followed. The plagues were mere echoes of the Spellblaze as its horrible effects rebounded across the land. One dark and terrible day those echoes rose in resonance, and a cataclysmic force tore through the heart of our world. The land was rent in two, earthquakes spouted forth magma from the ground, and the eastern edge of our land was torn away and sunk into the deepest oceans. It was a tragedy beyond comparison.

As our civilisations slowly recovered the orcs began to increase in numbers, and it became clear then that they too had learned the dark arts. For centuries we suffered their attacks, and only by a unification of the races did we manage to finally contain them and wipe them out. Our order was vital in suppressing their pyromancers and blood mages, and many of our people bravely gave up their lives to protect the western armies and towns from destruction.

But we are not clear of danger yet. Magic still exists, though oft it lies secret and hidden. Memories of the dark days have waned, and one can even see alchemists and enchanters walking openly in the streets, unheeding of the pain their ilk have brought to our world. But worse exists... Secret societies hide themselves in unknown places, plotting and scheming to bring further destruction on Maj'Eyal. Dark cults exist in quiet isolation, kidnapping innocents and performing vile ceremonies. We try our best to hunt these monsters down, to root them out from their fell dens and bring an end to their depraved plans. Yet we must try harder, for our world is in mortal peril if these fiends are allowed to act unhindered.

We must never forget the terrors of the Great Evil, and the suffering brought upon us by those who choose to corrupt nature with arcane powers. Be wary in your travels, and be thorough in your duties. Our fight is difficult, but it is just and true, and not until all Maj'Eyal is cleansed of the impurities of magic can we ever know peace. We are the protectors of the world, and by our strength and our union with nature we shall be its saviours.

-- Protector Myssil]],
}

newLore{
	id = "zigur-potion",
	category = "zigur",
	name = "The story of my salvation",
	lore = [[I used to be a potion merchant in Derth. I brewed alchemical tonics and elixirs for locals and travellers. My trade was good, and I lived very happily from the gold I earned. For a young woman to have such a business I was very proud.

One day however several people in the town fell ill from a mystery disease. Rumours spread that my potions were to blame, and people stopped coming to my shop. My business was in ruins, and I soon ran the risk of becoming destitute. Then one of the elders died, and though he had been ill for some time, I was blamed for his death. People said I had laid a hex on him, and murmurs arose of witchcraft.

I still remember how peaceful the evening had seemed when the townsfolk came for me. I was looking up at the brightness of the stars and the clear crescent moon, thinking of how I should restart my business, when I heard shouts from the distance. I saw the crowd appear from round the corner, advancing with their torches. I screamed for help, but they broke through my door, smashed through my windows and grabbed me. They dragged me outside and set their torches to my house. I was stripped to my skin and beaten heavily whilst they cursed and jeered, and even the man who had been my fiancé spat on my face and cursed me.

They pulled me over grass and stone to the town square, and though half-blinded by the tears and my swollen flesh I could still make out the wooden stake they were erecting. I tried to cry out, I tried to beg for mercy, but their response was to hold me down by my throat and pull out my tongue with the blacksmith's tongs. As I coughed up blood they put me against the wooden pole and used barbed chords to tie my wrists to it above my head. The pain was unbearable and I passed out, and did not wake until I could feel the burning at my feet. The crowd were cheering as the smoke began to wrap around me, and they cheered louder with every pained scream I released from my lungs.

I was choking from the smoke, barely able to breathe, and I could no longer feel my legs. Just when I felt my consciousness slipping away again I heard a commotion and a woman's voice shouted out, "She is no witch!" Then I saw some people coming towards me, and at the front was a halfling woman in dark armour. She rushed towards me, unheeding of the flames, and with a swift flick from her long sword she cut my bounds. She caught me as I fell and pulled me away from the fire, laying me down on the ground. I saw her soft face above mine as she whispered to me, "Tell me child, do you reject magic in all its forms?" I nodded my head - I could not say no to those bright eyes. She wiped the tears streaming down my face and kissed my forehead. "Then you will be safe - rest now." At once I passed out.

When I awoke I was in another village in a soft bed. There were wrappings round my legs and bandages covering the cuts and bruises over the rest of my body. Healers tended to me, using natural remedies and herbal balms. The halfling woman would come and see me every day to check up on me. I longed for her every visit. She would speak to me sometimes. She explained how the townsfolk weren't to blame for their actions. It was all the mages' fault. They were corrupting the world, spreading chaos, and turning people against each other. I realised I was wrong for ever brewing potions - they were infested with arcane energies and could only bring harm to the world.

She explained how she and her friends were helping to save the world, to rid our lands of all magic. And she has saved me. Not just from a terrible death, but also from the evil influences of the arcane. Even if I still had a tongue I could not find words to express my thanks to her, and my joy at the new life I lead, free from the abominations of magic. Thanks to her help I can now walk again with the aid of a crutch, and I can find true happiness in my rightful place in nature.

I have no voice now to tell my story to others, and so I write it down instead, and I spread it to the winds. I have suffered from my contact with magic, and others will suffer too. Do not trust in the terrible powers of these devious arts. They will only betray you and bring you to harm. Turn your back on magic, and make others repent too. Find your own salvation in nature's joys before it is too late.
]],
}