Synopsis: Beyond War

The Minat, the little people of Irish legend, look just like ordinary folk - but walk into their world amid the circle and the hearth, and you will be in the Kingdom of Oberon once more.

As are the Tyec lifelike and indistinguishable from human beings, despite every fiber of their being a construct of living nanotechnology and alloy, networked to a billion points, a living index of all knowledge they have gained across the galaxy, observing quietly and appreciating the world in its beauty and with awe in every detail - for life is alien to them.

As are the Dawv innately aware of the technology and makings of things, both in and outside of space and time, the creators of permanence and age old words that hold their meaning throughout time, both smiths and poets, makers, builders, and breakers of dawn.

High above and beyond the stars embrace, the Elan leave the world behind, venturing back to sunlight only to remind themselves of the world they cannot now know - for the enemy hunt them and would burn those jewels from the sky if they were to tarry too long in the Summerlands.

The Leupos and their kin, decendants of the guards of the gates of Hell, remembered in their form the product of the Gods at war, lay close to the edge of the world and covet their young generation after generations - hoping only for a simple life and a world in which their weapons lay in the ground, peace for their pups, and patience in their ways when the world would cast aside its need for warriors and poets.

As do the dracos lay - silent in their underground tombs, a world away, walking softly with the patience of eons to taste the wealth of the world and sup its table - all knowing that should they indulge the world itself would fail to fill their plate before they burst upon the clouds and blot out the very stars - finding peace in the ways of Zen and counting the eons by.

Aware as they are, that each leaf and blade is covered still by the genosect, benign though they seem, guarding all the world and watching over the garden that was Eden, an army in hiding in plain sight that outnumber all the armies of the Earth; their people too - among the men and women of the world, seeking out their foes with words and venom.

Hiding like the sky itself, beyond the dragons and the mists, the Kay'gi stir softly only days over the Centuries, seeking balance should the war become anew upon each world - agents of peace, destroyers of wisdom, ready to reset the world should it stray into knowledge again.

Their victims, the ethran, passing only in the tales of children's stories, watch as well - waiting for the belief that will rip the world open and let them in - the faith of even one believer.

For the lost who fell in fire remain among the stars and seek new worlds that they believe will restore to them the birthright that was lost and damned by blood in the Ogrey - stumbling from their grave to place a claim on all that is not broken still.

Unaware, for all their might, the blood of the one who is king remains alive, and in even one an army arise that shall outnumber the stars themselves should love be struck or children cry upon the world that stand the Sanguine.

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