Legacies 1891

It has only been three years since the first Ripper victim, and yet, it feels like an eternity here in this god forsaken place where sun refuses to shine. We are cloaked in night eternal and time stands still. It is said we are the prisoners of a Dark Lord who holds power over the city as if it were his private realm. People walk about in a daze, oblivious to the fact they have been ripped from the fabric of time. Life goes on here in a place where demons and mortals mix, and feed, and dance, and love with no memory of the way it was before the Ripper.

Who knows how long we have been here. I wonder sometimes if the rest of the world still exists, and if it does, do any realize we are gone?..Does anyone miss us?

I wonder what ever happened to Alice. She would be six years old by now. In a strange way, this is all her fault.

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The Dark Abyss

From the beginning there were two, and one did not exist without the other. Opposites of reality, Creation and Decay, Life and Death, Evil and Good, they were the Overlords of the All and the Nothing and when they clashed, the collision reverberated throughout the cosmos. Light and energy rushed out along the weave of time while the vacuum of the void sucked it back in. And thus it was that the multiverse breathed its first breath of life.

At the center of it all remains the place of the Two. One of Light. One of Dark. And as the light continues to spread out, filling the Universe with suns and moons and worlds, the shadows pull from within the Darkenverse, home of the Dark Overlord. Knowing only the gnawing hunger which will never be sated, he unfurls his tendrils of darkness and pierces the Weave, shredding the Veil, searching for those beacons of the brightest light, those centers of brilliance and creativity, wherein he might taste the passions, lusts, fears and dreams of the living. It is his ever persistent quest to 'know' what it is to 'feel'. The tendrils wrap and curl around the stars and worlds, cities and islands, which, to him, taste best, pulling them back into the Void. The Darkenverse closes around them encasing them in pocket planes ripped from the weave of time where they now exist alone in the dark, linked only to one another through the axis of it all. The very home and seat of the Dark Overlord. A place known as .... the Nexus.

TornOak

In the year of our lord 1891 the Guardians of Light serve and protect all those who dwell it the lands and bergs know as Tornoak. They protect a group of mixed backgrounds and race, a family bound together by the land, water and sky of this quite unassuming land.

Tornoak is a small sleepy berg at first glance, but with a little closer looking you will find a place teaming with going about their business of things that people do love fight, dance and drink altogether. But there is also an unspoken darkness hiding screaming out in the night never seen but lurking in the shadow ready to consume those that lose their way. The Guardians stand ready to fight this grotesque creature back into the pit where it comes from. Visit the forest the meadow and the village. Stop by the manner and meet our Princess. Meet and talk to all who live here. If you are brave enough come join us.

Vamporium

I look in your eyes as I ramble on and can tell you think me quite mad. They call me Azrael Wormtongue. It was not always my name. I once had credibility you see. People had no reason to doubt my word. Before I gained the reputation of an addict. Azrael the fallen..they now call me. But I hold before you the chronicle of it all, you see. This journal belonged to my friend, the former assistant director of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee. He was writing in it the night he died, presumably of an overdose. I told them all it was not the wine or the powders which had killed him, but the apparition which had stood before him the night of his death. I do not know rather he was murdered by the self same fiend we had been searching for, or whether the poor sod was simply scared to death. I took his journal to the authorities in one last attempt to steer them in the right direction. On facing their mockery and ridicule, I resolve that they shall receive no more assistance from me. I shall hide the journal and leave them all to rot in the mystery.

Mystico Ville

Portugese Speaking Realm:

Mystico Ville, uma ilha cercada de misterios e encantos onde cada local se transforma em aventura. Ambientada no periodo medieval ano 1247, um grupo de pessoas fugindo da inquisicao, resolve se aventurar em busca de um local onde possam viver livres. Encontram uma ilha cortadas por cavernas e belezas naturais como nunca visto e la se estabelecem. Ao passo em que vao explorando a regiao se deparam com acontecimentos misteriosos. Mas retornar agora nao eh uma opcao e sua unica maneira de sobrevivencia eh encontrar seus aliados. Venha desvendar os misterios voce tambem.

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