So, I once worked on an idea of mine to revise the Changing Breeds (check my sig for details), but eventually I came to the conclusion it was too much for me to do alone. However, I did liked the idea for the "line antagonist" I thought about- the "Old Ones" from the one line in the book. So, I've decided to write down my idea to those guys as a general setting material. Here is what I have for now- hope you'll like it.
The Old Ones are dead.
They were the first shifters (if not the first supernaturals) to walk on the face of Earth. The firstborn children of Nature, they lived long before the naked monkey who called itself "man" was even in the horizon. Instead, they shifted between the different breeds who walked in the old world, becoming the best predators of that age. No one was equal to their cunning, and the devoured whole species as a proof of their superiority. It was a primal time back than, when the world was hot and countless exotic breeds were spawned from Nature's mad imagination. They surely were the chosen ones, the most beloved and beautiful creations who were destined to rule the world
But the world changed, and they didn't.
No one knows what exactly happened, but no longer it was the same. So sure that it was only a phase, the great monsters kept trying to maintain their former life style- but they forgot Nature's greatest lesson. Evolve or Die. Those who changed were no longer the same, becoming smaller and weaker compared to their former glory. Those who didn't went extincted. It wasn't the last time for it to happen, and many breeds had died through the ages, and each such extinct feral was also added to the vast category of the Old Ones.They died. Their time was up. Their flesh rot and turned into dust.
But their bones are still out there.
Those bones, which many believe to be regular fossils, are sometimes found the the farthest wastelands, buried beneath tones of earth and dirt. Even when they are exposed to the fresh air and warm sunlight, they don't react. They are nothing more than bones who turned into solid stone. Yet, sometimes, something.... happens. Maybe it is Nature's last gift to her fallen children, offering them a second chance. Maybe it is some mystical event which connects between the past and the present, making one into the other. Perhaps it is simply some residual energy which is still found in the bones, wild magic from ages past. What ever the reason is, sometimes the bones awake- and the world change around them.
The earth is the first to change. An Old One who once lived in a jungle may make plants start growing faster, and trees become as tall as giants. One who came from the ice age makes the winter linger, and snow starts falling even in the middle of the summer. The bones of a marine specimen fills the water with salt and turn the streets into rivers. The next level is about the animals- they become more and more primitive, resembling their ancient ancestors. Dogs remember what it is to be wolves. Cats discover their inner lions.
And than, man change.
It happens slowly, so slow that even the ones to suffer than change may doesn't notice it. They start having dreams about an older world, one without law in which every desire was to be fulfilled. They hear whispers which promise power, to grant every wish and to loose their vulnerable flesh in exchange for more resilient body. They feel urges which were suppressed by years of civilization- the urge to eat, to breed, to live life to their fullest. Those who succumb to those feelings find themselves standing in front of the dead bones, and act out of pure instinct.
They eat them.
Once the bones are absorbed into the living body, they start shaping their host- they still keep its form, but they grant him a new, better form- the one they had before. The power surge through their vines, as they finally gain a beating heart. After years of being no more than dust, the breed is alive again, and its primal feelings force their new host to try and recreate the fallen race. Their presence still transform the world, forcing everything to become more and more atavistic as the creations of civilization breaks down and turn to rust, while they use their new bodies to regain their former glory and become the great hunters they once were.
And the other supernatural aren't protected from them. In fact, some (especially those who change their shape) are even more vonrable to the whispers of the sleeping giants who wish to wake up once more. Once they awake, nothing but death can put them to sleep once more, and only the destruction of the bones would return the world to how it is suppose to be. Yet, for every bone they destroy, hundreds more lie in the depth of earth. Nature has changed her face many times through the ages, and many breeds didn't changed fast enough to keep up with the mad dance of Nature.
Evolve or Die- that is the rule. If you wish to survive, you must adapt yourself to the changing world...
Or make it change to suit you.
what do you think?
The Old Ones are dead.
They were the first shifters (if not the first supernaturals) to walk on the face of Earth. The firstborn children of Nature, they lived long before the naked monkey who called itself "man" was even in the horizon. Instead, they shifted between the different breeds who walked in the old world, becoming the best predators of that age. No one was equal to their cunning, and the devoured whole species as a proof of their superiority. It was a primal time back than, when the world was hot and countless exotic breeds were spawned from Nature's mad imagination. They surely were the chosen ones, the most beloved and beautiful creations who were destined to rule the world
But the world changed, and they didn't.
No one knows what exactly happened, but no longer it was the same. So sure that it was only a phase, the great monsters kept trying to maintain their former life style- but they forgot Nature's greatest lesson. Evolve or Die. Those who changed were no longer the same, becoming smaller and weaker compared to their former glory. Those who didn't went extincted. It wasn't the last time for it to happen, and many breeds had died through the ages, and each such extinct feral was also added to the vast category of the Old Ones.They died. Their time was up. Their flesh rot and turned into dust.
But their bones are still out there.
Those bones, which many believe to be regular fossils, are sometimes found the the farthest wastelands, buried beneath tones of earth and dirt. Even when they are exposed to the fresh air and warm sunlight, they don't react. They are nothing more than bones who turned into solid stone. Yet, sometimes, something.... happens. Maybe it is Nature's last gift to her fallen children, offering them a second chance. Maybe it is some mystical event which connects between the past and the present, making one into the other. Perhaps it is simply some residual energy which is still found in the bones, wild magic from ages past. What ever the reason is, sometimes the bones awake- and the world change around them.
The earth is the first to change. An Old One who once lived in a jungle may make plants start growing faster, and trees become as tall as giants. One who came from the ice age makes the winter linger, and snow starts falling even in the middle of the summer. The bones of a marine specimen fills the water with salt and turn the streets into rivers. The next level is about the animals- they become more and more primitive, resembling their ancient ancestors. Dogs remember what it is to be wolves. Cats discover their inner lions.
And than, man change.
It happens slowly, so slow that even the ones to suffer than change may doesn't notice it. They start having dreams about an older world, one without law in which every desire was to be fulfilled. They hear whispers which promise power, to grant every wish and to loose their vulnerable flesh in exchange for more resilient body. They feel urges which were suppressed by years of civilization- the urge to eat, to breed, to live life to their fullest. Those who succumb to those feelings find themselves standing in front of the dead bones, and act out of pure instinct.
They eat them.
Once the bones are absorbed into the living body, they start shaping their host- they still keep its form, but they grant him a new, better form- the one they had before. The power surge through their vines, as they finally gain a beating heart. After years of being no more than dust, the breed is alive again, and its primal feelings force their new host to try and recreate the fallen race. Their presence still transform the world, forcing everything to become more and more atavistic as the creations of civilization breaks down and turn to rust, while they use their new bodies to regain their former glory and become the great hunters they once were.
And the other supernatural aren't protected from them. In fact, some (especially those who change their shape) are even more vonrable to the whispers of the sleeping giants who wish to wake up once more. Once they awake, nothing but death can put them to sleep once more, and only the destruction of the bones would return the world to how it is suppose to be. Yet, for every bone they destroy, hundreds more lie in the depth of earth. Nature has changed her face many times through the ages, and many breeds didn't changed fast enough to keep up with the mad dance of Nature.
Evolve or Die- that is the rule. If you wish to survive, you must adapt yourself to the changing world...
Or make it change to suit you.
what do you think?
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