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Dynastians Coming Soon!

Dynastians

The Gods created their farmers and set them to work the fertile lands between Stygia and Pyramia. These were hardy folk, toiling in the mud and clay day after day planting all manner of crops, most notably rice, and raising livestock on the northern grasslands. These were to be a lowly people, and were not even given the respect of a name. They were not made to be powerful in stature, but rather wiry, and given an inner strength of spirit and focus that no others possess. This they needed to be able to work at what was a rather tiresome task, day after day. Their life was simple, and they found their pleasure mainly in the love of their families, after a hard days work. So things remained until the Gods left.

Then the raids started. They were not warriors, and were slaughtered in the thousands in the name of the Tally. Those not killed, mostly children, were taken and enslaved.

“Matter” saw this from afar, and could not stand by and watch this Noble race destroyed, that had worked so hard for so long, toiling in the earth. The last survivors were gathered in a deep cave when “Matter” appeared to Jing Sun Mutai, the eldest among them at 123 years. “Enough is enough Jing Sun, it is time to take Matters into your own hand. Together we will make a Dynasty”. Matter took Jing Sun’s hands and gave some of himself unto him. Jing Sun was rejuvenated. “Let us go to the banks of the river”.

Here, Matter took a handful of clay and handed it to Jing Sun. “The blood of your families is mixed with this soil, eat”. Jing Sun ate. He fell to the ground as his body was wracked with pain. He writhed in agony as he watched his flesh turn into mud! “Hold out your arm Jing Sung”. As he did so a sword appeared in Matters hand. In a flash, Jing Suns arm was severed and it fell to the ground. His mouth opened to scream, but as it did so, he saw his arm grow back.  

Matter took another handful of clay and handed it to Jing Sun. “Imagine a fearsome Warrior Jing Sun”. He did as he was told. The clay shaped itself into a perfect miniature warrior in the palm of his hand. “Now, place it on the ground and command it to come forth a hundredfold”.

Jing Sun could hardly believe his eyes, as One Hundred human sized clay Warriors emerged in a perfect ranks from the ground.

“Now Jing Sun, plant no more, reap what others have sewn. Exact vengeance and Honor your dead”.