The Temple of the Phoenix
“Followers of fire, those whose strength and honour is true will prevail through hell unscathed. Our god Voraelix will shield his own from darkness”
Mythos
Long before the mountain-cities rose above the molten seas and before the banners of the Highfeather Lords flew across the horizon, the Eternal War began.
In those ancient days, the world trembled beneath the shadow of a necromancer known as the Black Skeleton King. Once a mortal sovereign, he had abandoned life itself in pursuit of endless dominion. Through forbidden rituals performed in caverns of fire and beneath eclipsed moons, he transformed his armies into legions of blackened bone. Their eyes burned with cold blue flame, and wherever they marched, kingdoms withered into graveyards.
Voraelix was then a warrior-king of the Highfeather people, a lord whose armour gleamed like molten gold and whose wings cast shadows across entire battlefields. For it was he who united the avian clans, the sky-knights, the eagle kings, and the heroes of a hundred cities beneath a single banner bearing the sacred phones.
The Skeleton King's armies could not truly die. Every victory won by Voraelix was followed by another undead host rising from forgotten tombs. Great battles were fought upon burning mountains, across oceans of lava and within ruined citadels swallowed by ash. Entire generations knew nothing but war. The darkest hour came when the Skeleton King completed a profane ritual deep within a fiery cavern beneath the world. From that place he drew power from death itself, creating endless armies of blackened skeletons. The earth shook, mountains split apart, and even the stars seemed dimmer.
Gathering the greatest heroes of his realm, he led a final crusade into the heart of the necromancer's dominion. The battle lasted forty days and forty nights.
Grounds cracked.
Castles crumbed.
The sky burned red.
At the climax of the war, Voraelix confronted the Skeleton King before the Gates of Oblivion. Through neither could truly destroy the other, Voraeliix shattered the necromancer's ritual and bound much of his power beneath the earth. The undead legions scattered, and the world was granted an age of peace.
Knowing that the war might one day return, Voraelix chose not to remain upon a mortal throne Instead, he crowned one of his greatest heroes as king of the Mountain City - the mighty citadel built upon volcanic stone and later raised above the fiery hells. This king, white-feathered and noble, became guardian of the realm and protector of its people.
Legend says that he entered the Sacred Flame and emerged into a colossal blazing phoenix whose wings stretched across the heavens. From the skies he watches over the kingdom still. Sailors claim to see his fiery silhouette crossing the clouds before great storms. Kings seek guidance from dreams touched by his golden feathers. Warriors pray to him before battle
And when the banners of the undead are sighted once more upon distant horizons, the people say the same words their ancestors spoke during the Eternal War;
And now the heroes of the Risen City, High Roost , are blessed and told to "Glide High" as if their soul is bound to eternal battle by our great lords side once more above the skies.
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