"The Awakening" was the title of the first set of spirits
introduced for the game. This is the prose that Randy wrote to
introduce those spirits and the playing world of Valhalla, the name used
for the Member Side of SpiritWars®.
From the all-encompassing
void, a swirling light softly takes shape. Whispering fingers of luminous fog shift
slowly, bringing form and substance to the darkness.
Cautiously does consciousness
resurface from the netherworld, fragmented wisps of memory, disjoined and chaotic. Shards of memory collide in a collage of color and
sound that stretches across the span of time.
With the end of time comes a new awakening, where all traditional frames of reference
and definitions of reality are cast aside. Beyond the beginning and the ending lies a
dimension where time and space are but antiquated theories; where the essence of thought
defines the only remaining arena of being. Even consciousness itself is but a fleeting
illusion in the spectral kaleidoscope.
In this churning whirlpool of timbre, hue and chaos, the distinction between all we
have known and all we have dreamed and imagined blurs. The nightmare, the fantasy, and the
whimsical folklore are now indistinguishable from the fact-laden tomes of historys
Myriad voices cry out, a deafening choir of confusion:
The voice of a Saint, sacrificed to the pagan politics of her age, screaming as the
the flesh from her bones. The betrayed cries of an innocent child sacrificed on an ancient
stone altar. The seductive laughter of a naked siren, as she beckons the brave Odysseus
towards the rocky shoreline. An ancient bard, his words rhyming in satirical questioning
of the mores of his day. The shrill song of a blind poet, lamenting a lost paradise and
dictating the brilliant colored visions of his dead eyes. A prophet, scoffed by the
masses, mixes his magical elixir and takes trusting children on a colorful voyage of
discovery. The biting melody of a lyrical jester lofts over the roar of the crowd, teasing
of magical swirling
skipping reels of rhyme. The commanding voice of the great Caesar echoes, with the
marching footsteps of the Legions on the stone highways of the great Empire. A scream
sparked by the darkest nightmares of the underworld, as the black creatures of the void
creep into susceptible minds.
For each of the competing sounds, a parallel fragment of colorful imagery battles for a
fleeting moment of conscious awareness.
pastels and The simple nobility of David, captured for immortality in carved granite. Countless
visions of heaven and hell, cast on canvas in
primaries, each sharing a unique vision into the personal nightmares and fantasies of
artists both renowned and forgotten in time.
All that was, is still. And the essence of all that was only
dreamed now assumes a physical presence. The once clearly defined lines between the realm
of physical reality and mental imagery have faded, creating a hazy universe of infinite
possibility. A universe of unlimited potential lies waiting for a master with the grand
vision and courage to forge a kingdom from the sea of chaotic spirits and powers.
From the chiseled marble of Mt. Olympus to the carved wooden table of Arthurs
court, the trumpet of The Awakening is heard, calling
to the fallen
warriors of the past. Across the span of time, the
summons echoes through the graveyards of history and myth.
The gathering of the select, the choosing of the few, begins anew the ageless battle.
With the Awakening, the elite warriors are called forth to summon their minions and rally
their forces. Drawing equally from the cast of history, the mythical realms of magic and
majesty, and the realm of the immortals, each warrior is challenged
to assemble a battling legion of any willing to follow him into combat.
Only one will claim the ultimate victory, as the road to the summit will be littered
with the dead and destroyed.
Once, in a time long past, the Gods dwelt in a
marble palace atop the mythical peak named Olympus. From that lofty height, they dared to
play with the mortal souls placed upon the stage of life, mere
actors in a play written for their casual entertainment. Now immortality calls to the
brave, and to the elite.
Odins bellowing voice trumpets the new beginning, the Awakening. The challenge
has been issued, the invitation made. The chosen gather anew in Odins great hall,
watching to see who dares to accept the gauntlet and enter Valhalla.
A handful of souls will emerge from the chaos of eternity. Bold and daring, brave and
obsessive, they are those with the strength to dream the unfathomable, to sing the
impossible melody, and to read the invisible writing upon the ancient walls of Jerusalem.
The ultimate challenge lies ahead, for those few who dare to walk the ancient paths,
follow the fated path of the Odyssey, and who are willing to risk their immortal souls in
the arena of battle.
Do you dare to reach across time, drawing from the hallowed halls of history and
mythology, and assemble a battle-ready army in the likeness of your own imagination? Can
you meet the challenges that lie ahead? Are you willing to battle
in the Arena of the Immortals for your honor, and do you have the
daring skills required to claim a place on the timeless scrolls of the Honored? Many will
try, but few will succeed. So be the trials of fire and the treacherous gauntlet that
awaits he who dares greatness.
Few are chosen, and only they that proceed willingly may enter the fray. Eternal
failure awaits all but a battle-proven few. If you elect to step forward and dare to run
the gauntlet, you will face the ultimate test of leadership in battle.
From the viewpoint of the towering pedestal, you turn your gaze downward to the battlefield.
In amazement you watch the small figures below move towards one another. As the battle
unfolds, you marvel at the majesty of only imagined powers marching and maneuvering under
the control of their powerful masters. Such a spectacle was never even dreamed of at the
zenith of the great Zeus reign. The Gods themselves, once masters of the mortal
domain are now reduced to pawns in the most magnificent of marvels.
"Valhalla is the great hall of Odin, wherein he feasts with his chosen heroes, all
those who have fallen bravely in battle, for all who die a peaceful death are excluded
When the heroes are not feasting they amuse
themselves with fighting. Every day they ride out into the court or field, and fight until
they cut each other to pieces. This is their pastime; but when meal time comes they
recover from their wounds and return to feast in Valhalla."
Are you worthy of the quest? Will your heroic aspirations earn you a place at the daily
feast of warriors? Or will you lie among the ruined souls that litter the battlefields?
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