Netharna Introductions

By Volgona
An old man in a tattered and faded red-and-maroon cloak walked the streets of the market. His cloak billowing and flapping behind him as the man was in a brisk walk. Small glimpses of a heavy gold chain hanging from his neck in brief flashes found their way to the eyes of a thief. An easy target this one. Old and slow. he thought, and made to follow him. The man in the cloak turned a corner, then another and another finally winding his way out the back entrance of the market and onto one of the roads. The thief knew these roads, and was able to follow the man far enough away so as to not be seen, yet close enough to keep him in sight. The man soon met up with.. Who knows what. An archer? For surely there was a bow slung upon his back. Yet only one eye did his head hold. Or whatever that is on top of those shoulders. Those are shoulders right? Is that smoke?The thief followed still. Drawn on by the heavy gold chain and slight curiosity. The two men soon veered off the road into the wilderness, where not too long after, they came upon the violet glow of an obsidian portal. The men stepped through. Blast.. Netharnians. But the greed of the thief outweighed his hesitance still, so on he went. Into the portal. If they can do it, i can. And what met his eyes he could never have prepared for in a hundred years.

Rich veins of Quartz and Soulsand caressed in Netherbrick spanned the vast cavern before him. Various winding labyrinths and pathways to all manner of different sized Netherbrick fortresses did he see. But what caught his attention most, was the sight of fire. Fire and lava all around. And the men he had followed. Standing right in the middle of it. A depress inlaid into the Netherbrick in a circle around them. Their eyes closed as they chanted in hushed voices. The thief saw his chance, and crept closer.

Closer and closer he crept, sweating as the heat of the flames grew hotter with each step. The thief knew his skills well. He knew he could take the chain without the cloaked man knowing. The thief reached out, but something stayed his hand. He looked to the middle of the ring as the chanting grew louder. Louder and louder it grew until suddenly, he heard it. No, not heard. Felt.. Her. Netharna. Fire Mother. Goddess of the undying flames. The souls within the ring uplifted their heads. Flames beginning to dance around the circle, inching closer, soon enveloping them. The thief backed away with a startled cry. Shock and awe on his face. But the men in the ring payed him no mind, raising their heads to the flames around them and speaking into the crackle of fire as if in answer to some unseen force.

Then, one turned to speak to the thief as if he had known the whole time. "You should not have come here thief. For we serve Netharna. Fire Mother of the undying flames. You have come to Her domain, trespassing in a realm that is not your own." Then, as if a spoken command had been given, when indeed there had been no sound, the chanters turned back to their circle and raised their voices one last time. "Fire and brimstone. Metal to rust. Burn in the flames now to ashes and dust." The flames leaped and danced out of the circle. So fast swept the blaze that the thief had not even the time to shield his face. Yet the chanting men were untouched. "Thank you mother.. We do as you command."

Indeed, a rogue had followed the thief to watch. Opting to stay on the over-world side of the Obsidian portal. And when he saw everyone come back out but the thief, he knew what had happened. Yet not even the scent of smoke was on their clothing.

Netherrack, Soulsand, and Quartz heard the screams of a burning man yet again that day. But not for long.

By Gloriusbuttocks
A brave Akwal Mage, soon after acquiring his first nether portal, decided to impress his faction members by brewing them magical potions. That would surely gain their respect! He HAD to do this! His faction had recently set off on a dangerous journey to Mount Kazmal, and, with his highly enchanted chainmail armour, he thought he could tackle the Nether alone. Almost instantly after entering this Unholy Realm, he came face-to-face with an Infernal Blaze. The blaze quickly overtook him, racking pain onto his body with three well-aimed fireballs. Panicking, with only half health after the blaze's first onslaught, he ran as fast as he could, luckily finding a nether fortress in his blind panic. He turned around, fired a magic missile, and clogged up the entrance with dirt. He sat down awkwardly, with a searing pain in his chest, and ate a loaf of bread, hoping to regenerate his health before he continued on. After finishing his meal, he wielded his staff, and very slowly, very carefully, he ventured down the fortress, stubborn and determinded to find his treasure. After hours of traveling, fighting, and bread, he finally found what he was looking for; Netherwart. After picking all he could, he turned around, only to find a Netharnan Fire Mage staring calmly at him from across the Fortress. The Fire mage slowly uttered a phrase, as a ring of fire encircled the poor Akwal soul. Quickly drawing his golden ingot, another voice uttered, "Peace me amongst us" as he dropped his gold into a fire. Desperately, he tried to douse the fire with buckets of water, only to find that the water would evaporate. A third Netharnan, in beautifully terrifying golden armour smirked evilly at the Akwallian. "Fish out of water" He taunted evilly, before blasting a fireball at the Akwallian. He fell to the ground, struggling for air at the searing heat and pain, and took out his only Golden apple. The Netharnan Mage sprinted over to the Akwallion smacked it out of his hand, into the fire. "The Nether is no place for a water-breather. Let this be a final lesson to you; Netharnans are not a force to be reckoned with," The mage said, as he pointed his wand at the Akwallian's face. He clenched his eyes as he waited for the pain to overtake him. The last thing he would ever feel was a searing, overwhelming heat, engulfing him like the large waves back in his homeland.

By The Poet Sinna
Molten flame falls from the top, sands of death replace the plains

Hordes of anger cross the ground, white floaters blast soon ends their games

A purple haze shall lead them in, a burning death shall lead them out

None shall ever venture in, her realm's sanctity leaves no doubt

Only her people dare enter to, only her people dare enter out

Bodies that bathe in lava, auras that the floaters avoid

Her chosen people can rise once more

Into this realm they will dwell, this realm of fire and strife

Weak shall perish and the strong shall stand

Servants shall rise, One-eyed shall judge

Here lies her simple law

Do justice

Be good

That is all