Difference between revisions of "Arylon Family"

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The family became a royal house when Fisc was forced to flee from the destruction of the South-East Island. He and a combination of Torenites and other refugees from the continent came to the newly discovered land of Dwilight, where they formed a new nation, called [[Everguard]], to which Fisc was proclaimed the first High King.
 
The family became a royal house when Fisc was forced to flee from the destruction of the South-East Island. He and a combination of Torenites and other refugees from the continent came to the newly discovered land of Dwilight, where they formed a new nation, called [[Everguard]], to which Fisc was proclaimed the first High King.
 +
 +
The '''House of Arylon''' is a noble house of royal bloodline, originating from the remote regions of the [[Cagilan Empire]] on the lost continent of [[Atamara]].  The name itself originates from the ancient hereditary title Aryl, which in an ancient [[Atamara|Atamaran]] language means "Lord." Humble in origin, the Arylonians were minor nobles of little fame or authority for generations, before rising in significance and becoming one of the most recognizable noble houses in the known world.
 +
 +
After generations of obscurity, it was the exploits of the brothers of [[Arylon Family/Fisc|Fisc]] and [[Arylon Family/Taran|Taran]] that led to the ascension of the Arylonians. Ironically, it was by forsaking their ancestral home and claim on nobility that the brothers would rise. When they came of age, Fisc -- who was always more restless and belligerent than Taran -- was unsatisfied by his position in life, and sought to carve out his own name in battle by traveling to the [[South-East Island]] and pledging himself to a realm, [[Toren]], fighting in the perpetual war of that land. There he would distinguish himself, gaining a Lordship, then later becoming Fiduciary, and later still General, overseeing all of the war effort.
 +
 +
Taran remained on Atamara, but equally frustrated by his anonymity and irrelevance among the Cagilans, he abandoned his family estate and traveled to the south-east of the continent, joining the realm of [[Abington]], which would eventually become [[Suville]]. There he would thrive, rising to serve as Suville's General for a long period of time, as well as the realm's Master of Law, and Duke of the stronghold of Stoneville.
 +
 +
The family became a royal house when Fisc was forced to flee from the destruction of the South-East Island. He and a combination of Torenites and other refugees from the continent came to the newly discovered land of Dwilight, where they formed a new nation, called [[Everguard]], to which Fisc was proclaimed the first High King.
 +
 +
 +
==Family Members of Accomplishment==
 +
<center>
 +
{|class="wikitable" style="border-style: solid; border-width: 20px; border-color: #13369D; background:none; cellpadding="2"; width="85%";"
 +
|-
 +
|-style="background-color: #FFDC2C;font-size:11px; line-height:30px"
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| colspan="6" style="font-size: 20px; color: #000000; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"|<span style="font-size:22px">'''FAMILY MEMBERS OF HOUSE ARYLON'''</span><br>
 +
|-style="background:#d0d0d0;"
 +
! PORTRAIT
 +
! NAME
 +
! STATUS
 +
! CONTINENT
 +
! REALM
 +
! CHARACTER INFORMATION
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:FiscArylonNew.jpg|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Fisc Arylon'''
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#fe0000;" | Missing
 +
| Unknown
 +
| Unknown
 +
| Fisc Arylon, also known as The Emerald Knight and Fisc Silvertongue, was a warrior, statesman, King and religious icon of great fame in the old days of our world. Beginning his exploits on the now destroyed South-East Island, his reputation as a fierce warrior would be sharpened while fighting for the realm of Toren. He is, however, best known among the ancient families as the first High King of the realm of Everguard in north-western Dwilight. Everguard was the first Kingdom founded in Dwilight that reached into the monster-infested hordes of the west. Fisc himself was the first man to lead knights-at-arms into that wilderness.,As High King, Fisc led his new nation to glory, quickly expanding his realm's borders as far west as the Shrine of Seeklander, and as far south as Eidulb. Everguard quickly became known as the "Emerald Jewell" of the west, defending the realms of the east from unchecked monster invasions.,Sadly, his reign was eventually ended when Fisc was struck by a horrible twisting plague, robbing him of his health and forcing him to abdicate the Crystal Throne of Everguard. In the aftermath of his abdication, he would go on to lead another colony realm known as Averoth to the west, and then later would receive divine inspiration and found the religion of Torenism at the peak of the Mountain of Betrayal.,Eventually, Everguard was betrayed and destroyed by the nation of Astrum, and Averoth was nearly destroyed as well. Frustrated by the treachery and corruption systemic through Dwilight, Fisc and his children left the continent seeking a quiet life, withdrawn from the world.,Some years later, after the death of his wife, Fisc mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again. Some have speculated that he grew restless and sought adventure beyond the known world. Some believe he died. Others think he may return some day. But today, he is gone.
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:Gheric.png|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Gheric Arylon'''</span>
 +
<span style="font-size: 14px; font-style: italic;">Son of Fisc</span>
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#14BD00;" | Alive
 +
| Dwilight
 +
| Westgard
 +
| Gheric story
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:LyannaArylon2.png|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Lyanna Arylon'''</span>
 +
<span style="font-size: 14px; font-style: italic;">Daughter of Fisc</span>
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#14BD00;" | Alive
 +
| East Continent
 +
| Sirion
 +
| Lyanna story
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:ArylonCOA.jpg|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Rearden'''</span>
 +
<span style="font-size: 14px; font-style: italic;">Bastard Son of Fisc</span>
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#14BD00;" | Alive
 +
| East Continent
 +
| Nivemus
 +
| Rearden story
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:ArylonCOA.jpg|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Mathas'''</span>
 +
<span style="font-size: 14px; font-style: italic;">Bastard Son of Fisc</span>
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#14BD00;" | Alive
 +
| Dwilight
 +
| Madina
 +
| Mathas story
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:ArylonCOA.jpg|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Taran Arylon'''</span>
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#fe0000;" | Missing
 +
| Unknown
 +
| Unknown
 +
| Taran story
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:ArylonCOA.jpg|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Taran Arylon'''</span>
 +
<span style="font-size: 14px; font-style: italic;">Son of Taran</span>
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#14BD00;" | Alive
 +
| South Island
 +
| Sandalak
 +
| Taran II story
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:Tyran.jpg|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Tyran Arylon'''</span>
 +
<span style="font-size: 14px; font-style: italic;">Son of Taran</span>
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#14BD00;" | Alive
 +
| Beluaterra
 +
| Nothoi
 +
| Tyran story
 +
|-
 +
| [[File:ArylonCOA.jpg|frameless|200px|center]]
 +
| style="text-align: center; font-size:22px; align:center;" |'''Caravanthian Arylon'''</span>
 +
| style="font-weight:bold; color:#14BD00;" | Alive
 +
| Colonies
 +
| Halcyon
 +
| Caravanthian's head hurt. He didn't know where he was, or what had brought him here.
 +
 +
The last thing he remembered was the storm. Howling winds, pounding rain, and a vicious sea that threw the ship around like a rag doll. It had been unexpected, the storm, and as a result of it, his ship had been thrown significantly off course from its destination. Two of the crew were dead -- one thrown overboard from the sudden violence of the storm, and another who fell and landed on the pointed handle of the ship's wheel during the turbulence. This left them without a navigator, or their captain, not that either of those men would have been useful to them in the face of this chaos.
 +
 +
The ocean had formed, quicker than anyone could truly understand, a massive cyclone. Caravanthian had heard such storms called many things, including hurricanes and typhoons, but he had of course never seen one. As a child of noble privilege, he had not traveled widely. Oh, he had read in books about storms like this, but it is one thing to read an account of something, it is another altogether to experience it yourself.
 +
 +
At the end of the day, this was his own fault. He had given up on his life, feeling it was taking him nowhere. He did not want to be part of the stuffy aristocracy, locked up in their castles, concerning themselves with fashion, art and literature, content to simply entertain themselves and gorge on the plenty that was afforded to them due to the work of others. He had grown to hold most of his noble peers in great contempt, as they grew fatter and more arrogant while simultaneously deserving that arrogance and largesse less every day.
 +
 +
So he wanted out.
 +
 +
His older brothers, Fisc and Taran had long ago left their ancestral home to carve out lives of significance. Their deeds, exaggerated or not, had made their way back to him, filling him with a sense of jealousy.  Yes, Fisc had gone missing years ago and was probably dead. Yes, Taran fled the life he built in search of myths of a restored youth that Caravanthian was certain were nothing more than stories and fables. They had both come to regret, or so he was told, their adventurous spirit and desire for personal glory.
 +
 +
But deep inside him, Caravanthian didn't care. At least they lived. At least they earned their names. At least they proved their worth to themselves. It would be better, he thought, to actually matter to the world, even if it meant your time on it may be short.
 +
 +
And deeper still was a yearning to prove himself. He knew that he was never supposed to be born. His brothers were decades older than him, and left to start their lives when he was but beginning his own. Perhaps this is why he grew up with such an inferiority complex. He never felt good enough, smart enough, brave enough, or skilled enough to measure up. His brother had been named a High King of a realm he helped found when he was roughly the same age that Caravanthian was now. How could he not see that, and hate himself? How could he not think of his own worthlessness in that shadow? What had he spent his time doing? At the insistence of his father, he had been sheltered and protected his whole life, and spent it learning. He read. He played music. He danced. And yes, he learned how to fight, but only in the controlled environment of a castle courtyard. His blades had never had edges, and his skin had never been cut.
 +
 +
No, the whole thing made him feel numb. Like a man walking through life pretending to be something he wasn't. He was learning about other men's deeds, not achieving his own.
 +
 +
It was time to change all that.
 +
 +
And so he took a considerable chest of gold and hired a ship, begging the captain to take him to the continent of Dwilight. There, his nephew Gheric had recently gone in search of restoring his father's legacy. Interestingly, because of his peculiar family history, he and Gheric were roughly the same age, even though he was his uncle. This -- at least he thought -- should give them a rapport and allow them to bond, as he joined Gheric in slaying monsters and carving out a life in north-western Dwilight. It was, at last, his chance at a new beginning.
 +
 +
But so inept was he, that even this plan couldn't come to fruition. After traveling by boat for weeks, the storm had come, and his ship had been pulled off course hundreds of miles, and... it was so difficult to remember. His head still hurt. All he knew right now, was the beach he had awoken laying on, and he was almost certain that this land was not Dwilight. The Colonies, perhaps? He didn't know.
 +
 +
As his head began to clear, he looked behind him and saw a great city in the distance.
 +
 +
"Wherever I am," he said, "this is my new home." He got up, and started walking toward the city of Alebad.
 +
|}</center>
 +
 +
 +
 +
  
 
[[Category: Families]]
 
[[Category: Families]]

Revision as of 22:27, 28 October 2019

ArylonCOA.jpg

The House of Arylon is a noble house of royal bloodline, originating from the remote regions of the Cagilan Empire on the lost continent of Atamara. The name itself originates from the ancient hereditary title Aryl, which in an ancient Atamaran language means "Lord." Humble in origin, the Arylonians were minor nobles of little fame or authority for generations, before rising in significance and becoming one of the most recognizable noble houses in the known world.

After generations of obscurity, it was the exploits of the brothers of Fisc and Taran that led to the ascension of the Arylonians. Ironically, it was by forsaking their ancestral home and claim on nobility that the brothers would rise. When they came of age, Fisc -- who was always more restless and belligerent than Taran -- was unsatisfied by his position in life, and sought to carve out his own name in battle by traveling to the South-East Island and pledging himself to a realm, Toren, fighting in the perpetual war of that land. There he would distinguish himself, gaining a Lordship, then later becoming Fiduciary, and later still General, overseeing all of the war effort.

Taran remained on Atamara, but equally frustrated by his anonymity and irrelevance among the Cagilans, he abandoned his family estate and traveled to the south-east of the continent, joining the realm of Abington, which would eventually become Suville. There he would thrive, rising to serve as Suville's General for a long period of time, as well as the realm's Master of Law, and Duke of the stronghold of Stoneville.

The family became a royal house when Fisc was forced to flee from the destruction of the South-East Island. He and a combination of Torenites and other refugees from the continent came to the newly discovered land of Dwilight, where they formed a new nation, called Everguard, to which Fisc was proclaimed the first High King.

The House of Arylon is a noble house of royal bloodline, originating from the remote regions of the Cagilan Empire on the lost continent of Atamara. The name itself originates from the ancient hereditary title Aryl, which in an ancient Atamaran language means "Lord." Humble in origin, the Arylonians were minor nobles of little fame or authority for generations, before rising in significance and becoming one of the most recognizable noble houses in the known world.

After generations of obscurity, it was the exploits of the brothers of Fisc and Taran that led to the ascension of the Arylonians. Ironically, it was by forsaking their ancestral home and claim on nobility that the brothers would rise. When they came of age, Fisc -- who was always more restless and belligerent than Taran -- was unsatisfied by his position in life, and sought to carve out his own name in battle by traveling to the South-East Island and pledging himself to a realm, Toren, fighting in the perpetual war of that land. There he would distinguish himself, gaining a Lordship, then later becoming Fiduciary, and later still General, overseeing all of the war effort.

Taran remained on Atamara, but equally frustrated by his anonymity and irrelevance among the Cagilans, he abandoned his family estate and traveled to the south-east of the continent, joining the realm of Abington, which would eventually become Suville. There he would thrive, rising to serve as Suville's General for a long period of time, as well as the realm's Master of Law, and Duke of the stronghold of Stoneville.

The family became a royal house when Fisc was forced to flee from the destruction of the South-East Island. He and a combination of Torenites and other refugees from the continent came to the newly discovered land of Dwilight, where they formed a new nation, called Everguard, to which Fisc was proclaimed the first High King.


Family Members of Accomplishment

FAMILY MEMBERS OF HOUSE ARYLON
PORTRAIT NAME STATUS CONTINENT REALM CHARACTER INFORMATION
FiscArylonNew.jpg
Fisc Arylon Missing Unknown Unknown Fisc Arylon, also known as The Emerald Knight and Fisc Silvertongue, was a warrior, statesman, King and religious icon of great fame in the old days of our world. Beginning his exploits on the now destroyed South-East Island, his reputation as a fierce warrior would be sharpened while fighting for the realm of Toren. He is, however, best known among the ancient families as the first High King of the realm of Everguard in north-western Dwilight. Everguard was the first Kingdom founded in Dwilight that reached into the monster-infested hordes of the west. Fisc himself was the first man to lead knights-at-arms into that wilderness.,As High King, Fisc led his new nation to glory, quickly expanding his realm's borders as far west as the Shrine of Seeklander, and as far south as Eidulb. Everguard quickly became known as the "Emerald Jewell" of the west, defending the realms of the east from unchecked monster invasions.,Sadly, his reign was eventually ended when Fisc was struck by a horrible twisting plague, robbing him of his health and forcing him to abdicate the Crystal Throne of Everguard. In the aftermath of his abdication, he would go on to lead another colony realm known as Averoth to the west, and then later would receive divine inspiration and found the religion of Torenism at the peak of the Mountain of Betrayal.,Eventually, Everguard was betrayed and destroyed by the nation of Astrum, and Averoth was nearly destroyed as well. Frustrated by the treachery and corruption systemic through Dwilight, Fisc and his children left the continent seeking a quiet life, withdrawn from the world.,Some years later, after the death of his wife, Fisc mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again. Some have speculated that he grew restless and sought adventure beyond the known world. Some believe he died. Others think he may return some day. But today, he is gone.
Gheric.png
Gheric Arylon

Son of Fisc

Alive Dwilight Westgard Gheric story
LyannaArylon2.png
Lyanna Arylon

Daughter of Fisc

Alive East Continent Sirion Lyanna story
ArylonCOA.jpg
Rearden

Bastard Son of Fisc

Alive East Continent Nivemus Rearden story
ArylonCOA.jpg
Mathas

Bastard Son of Fisc

Alive Dwilight Madina Mathas story
ArylonCOA.jpg
Taran Arylon Missing Unknown Unknown Taran story
ArylonCOA.jpg
Taran Arylon

Son of Taran

Alive South Island Sandalak Taran II story
Tyran.jpg
Tyran Arylon

Son of Taran

Alive Beluaterra Nothoi Tyran story
ArylonCOA.jpg
Caravanthian Arylon Alive Colonies Halcyon Caravanthian's head hurt. He didn't know where he was, or what had brought him here.

The last thing he remembered was the storm. Howling winds, pounding rain, and a vicious sea that threw the ship around like a rag doll. It had been unexpected, the storm, and as a result of it, his ship had been thrown significantly off course from its destination. Two of the crew were dead -- one thrown overboard from the sudden violence of the storm, and another who fell and landed on the pointed handle of the ship's wheel during the turbulence. This left them without a navigator, or their captain, not that either of those men would have been useful to them in the face of this chaos.

The ocean had formed, quicker than anyone could truly understand, a massive cyclone. Caravanthian had heard such storms called many things, including hurricanes and typhoons, but he had of course never seen one. As a child of noble privilege, he had not traveled widely. Oh, he had read in books about storms like this, but it is one thing to read an account of something, it is another altogether to experience it yourself.

At the end of the day, this was his own fault. He had given up on his life, feeling it was taking him nowhere. He did not want to be part of the stuffy aristocracy, locked up in their castles, concerning themselves with fashion, art and literature, content to simply entertain themselves and gorge on the plenty that was afforded to them due to the work of others. He had grown to hold most of his noble peers in great contempt, as they grew fatter and more arrogant while simultaneously deserving that arrogance and largesse less every day.

So he wanted out.

His older brothers, Fisc and Taran had long ago left their ancestral home to carve out lives of significance. Their deeds, exaggerated or not, had made their way back to him, filling him with a sense of jealousy. Yes, Fisc had gone missing years ago and was probably dead. Yes, Taran fled the life he built in search of myths of a restored youth that Caravanthian was certain were nothing more than stories and fables. They had both come to regret, or so he was told, their adventurous spirit and desire for personal glory.

But deep inside him, Caravanthian didn't care. At least they lived. At least they earned their names. At least they proved their worth to themselves. It would be better, he thought, to actually matter to the world, even if it meant your time on it may be short.

And deeper still was a yearning to prove himself. He knew that he was never supposed to be born. His brothers were decades older than him, and left to start their lives when he was but beginning his own. Perhaps this is why he grew up with such an inferiority complex. He never felt good enough, smart enough, brave enough, or skilled enough to measure up. His brother had been named a High King of a realm he helped found when he was roughly the same age that Caravanthian was now. How could he not see that, and hate himself? How could he not think of his own worthlessness in that shadow? What had he spent his time doing? At the insistence of his father, he had been sheltered and protected his whole life, and spent it learning. He read. He played music. He danced. And yes, he learned how to fight, but only in the controlled environment of a castle courtyard. His blades had never had edges, and his skin had never been cut.

No, the whole thing made him feel numb. Like a man walking through life pretending to be something he wasn't. He was learning about other men's deeds, not achieving his own.

It was time to change all that.

And so he took a considerable chest of gold and hired a ship, begging the captain to take him to the continent of Dwilight. There, his nephew Gheric had recently gone in search of restoring his father's legacy. Interestingly, because of his peculiar family history, he and Gheric were roughly the same age, even though he was his uncle. This -- at least he thought -- should give them a rapport and allow them to bond, as he joined Gheric in slaying monsters and carving out a life in north-western Dwilight. It was, at last, his chance at a new beginning.

But so inept was he, that even this plan couldn't come to fruition. After traveling by boat for weeks, the storm had come, and his ship had been pulled off course hundreds of miles, and... it was so difficult to remember. His head still hurt. All he knew right now, was the beach he had awoken laying on, and he was almost certain that this land was not Dwilight. The Colonies, perhaps? He didn't know.

As his head began to clear, he looked behind him and saw a great city in the distance.

"Wherever I am," he said, "this is my new home." He got up, and started walking toward the city of Alebad.