by Nathaniel Miller

Created on: August 02, 2009

The Beginning:

The long shadow of evening fell upon a castle, built on the rugged coast, located on the Fjords of Paramour bordering the mouth of the mighty Glen more River that emptied out into the dark blue depths of the Atlantic Ocean. This large castle, standing on the Fjord has been here now for three centuries, and is home to a group of people who long ago built it with their own hands. A group of people blessed with immortality and with extraordinary gifts who had been welcomed among their people with open arms, their gifts accepted up until a few years ago. Until the rampage of the Inquisition's persecution, torture and murder of anyone heretic raged across Renaissance Europe. Their own people had banished them from their respective homes and all had come to this place on the sea, building this castle to live in peace.

The gray walls of the castle, made of solid granite, stand well over a hundred feet high from the ground to the top, built on the fjord and surrounded by the sharp rocks, the churning dark blue sea and behind a mountain rock. It is a formidable location, a foreboding place, sheltered in rock and difficult to get out from land or sea. One place that is known and for peace and prosperity until now and the castle itself, has not known any war or battle, the gray stone making up the walls unscathed from everything but time itself. It has not been challenged in the three centuries it had been standing, the legends, rumors and stories spread across the land about it enough to keep many people away and in the last one hundred years, there was more than just the castle that stood here as a village and city sprung up around this castle.

Through the years many people traveled to this place from all over, knowing of it as a refuge from the dark times that now are in this age. The civilization that had sprung up, one of an impressive moderate size that formed around the castle had becoming a thriving bustling place of many people who came to escape the persecution of the Inquisition. The castle and the people were not governed by a king they had no ruler, only a council of twelve that makes up the only leadership guiding the people. They are a wise and generous council, guiding the people who had taken refuge here, with wisdom, compassion and understanding.

Standing on guard, on top of the wall of the Castle of Dreams, at this very moment, Tar Narmolanya, one of the immortal residents sits on the top of the southern most turrets. The

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