| Chapter One Moltaria, The Beginning� In the beginning, in the early days when the fires burned hottest. The great ancestors rose up from the molten depths and began to build the strongest empire the galaxy had ever known � The Sacred Flame. For many years, the elders worked together and extended their new empire to every flaming boarder on the world. In the northern realm was the temple of the Flamites. A tribe of Moltarians that are feared and respected for their speed. The shrine of the Magamars rests at the bottom of the deepest lava lake. Among all of the tribes their Herculean strength was respected. On the shores of the eastern lands was the Temple of the Lavans � none of the Moltarians can match their swimming capabilities. On the steaming plateaus where the lava cools stands the monolith of the Heatuks. Their wisdom and intelligence has earned them much praise. To the distant west in the mountainous volcanic regions was where the War Shrine of the Volcanarrs. They were not those who believed in social graces and charm. They lived alone and recluse. Those who sought them out for whatever reason � never returned. To the distant south, where the geyser fields rested the palace of the Steamarchs. Among all of the races, they were considered the most dangerous, for their hunger for power and their golden words were hard to withstand. For many years, the ancestors worked with the people to build and refine the empire � to make Moltaria the most powerful planet that the universe had ever known. It was in this time that the Six Sacred Citadels were erected. All were created with the same amount of resources and built in the same amount of time. Each was a temple that praised the efforts of each tribe and the clans and families within each tribe. On the walls were the names of every member of the clan dating back to the first ancestors. Indeed, they were a testament not of the greatness of our people � but to the greatness our people could one day achieve. Many years after the Citadels were common place, the ancestors looked up to the sky. They had done all that they could to make their empire whole on the planet. It was now time to extend their reach out to the stars. For almost a decade, the ancestors worked hard with the people. The flaming jewel of the universe was now going to shine its light on other worlds. It was five years later when the first vessels were completed. Although this was to be a mission of peace, the ancestors knew better than to go into the unknown blind. They created weapon systems that embodied the power of their home world. With the push of a button, a projectile the size of a child�s ball would launch out � but this was no toy! For once it contacted anything, the ball would burst into lava and flames. For nothing in the universe could withstand the power of fire! The time had come at last. The flagship called the Eruption soared off of the planet�s surface and went into space. From their ship in the expanse of space � the ancestors saw for the first time what their world really looked like. Moments later, they saw the rest of their fleet rise up and join them. Thus began their quest� *** During their epic space quest, the ancestors saw another world the first one that they had seen since they left. It was seemingly uninhabited and looked like an ideal place to extend the might of Moltaria to. The fleet made a course for the planet and landed on a large open plain. The next day, construction was to begin. There were arguments over what the structure should look like. All of the tribes wanted the first structure created to be in honor of his tribe. The ancestors stopped the arguing. It was agreed that the first expansion would house characteristics of all the tribes � and thus the mammoth project began. Through diligence, persistence and dedication, the ancestors rose the first settlement in five months. It was indeed a testament to the greatness of all of Moltaria. In this one epic city housed the efforts of all the tribes and the ancestors. The ancestors agreed that the new city was to be the Capital of their new world. A world they called Moltaria Prime! It was around this time that an odd bunch made their way towards the outer gate. We called them, the Khorta. Their flesh � if indeed it was flesh � was green. They looked to be part plant and part insect. One of them stepped forward and began to utter something in a language unknown to the ancestors. Unsure if their intent was benevolent or hostile, the ancestors told the beings to leave. The creatures didn�t heed the order. It was unclear if their remaining was an act of blatant defiance or merely misunderstanding. It was then that one of the Heatuks approached them. He drew in the ground a picture of what they were being asked to do. The creatures saw the picture and belched a green cloud of mist at him. The Heatuk coughed an spasmed in pain. The indecision was gone. The ancestors attacked the creatures and forced them to flee. The Heatuk was not seriously hurt, but the effect of what he was hit with was strong enough to keep him weak for many days. The ancestors gathered the tribes together and hunted for the creatures that so disrespectfully attacked one of their numbers. For many days they hunted. Some fell prey to traps. Some fell prey to ambushes in the dense forests. But on that last day of travel, the army stood atop a hill and saw the creature�s capital. It was a city that seemed to be held together by ooze, trees, roots and dirt. Nothing advanced by our standards. The army charged. The defenders were startled that the ancestors were brave enough to take the fight to them. Their defenses fell as our armies attacked. Many were forced to flee like the craven cowards they were. Others attempted to thwart our destiny. At the end of that bloody day. Hundreds of charred greenish bodies littered the smoldering remains of their city. Only a few of our numbers fell that glorious day. Those that managed to escape the battle flew away in a ship that resembled a bug. But their departure changed nothing � Moltaria Prime was ours! We raised many cities and forged a strong empire on our new world. It was bigger and stronger than anything previously created by the ancestors. It was around this time that The Day of Shadows was to happen. One dark day � they came. We called them, the Drortah. They were a thin bunch. They spoke in clacks and whistles. By their mannerisms and posturing � it was obvious that they believed themselves to be the owners of Moltaria Prime. The ancestors attacked the Drortah with a vengeance. It took ten Moltarians to kill one Drortah � and there were seven Drortah there. The situation was indeed grim. If they were a scouting party of a larger force � the repercussions would be disastrous. One week later � they came! Over ten thousand of them swarmed over the hills. The once acceptable climate almost instantly changed frigid. Hundreds fought bravely so that the others could retreat. The cost in lives was in the thousands. As a last resort � the ancestors pushed the doomsday device. Their once proud capital exploded into a mushroom cloud of flames. As if to mock the attack � the Drortah turned the flame into ice. Our ancestors and the colonists were forced to retreat. Thus began our war! *** This struggle for dominance continued for decades. The loss of life was staggering and there was no end in sight. It was then that the ancestors took their flagship and went in search of anything that might tip the scale of power back in favor of the Moltarians. Unfortunately � they were never seen again. To make matters even worse, now the clans were at odds with each other. Without the guidance of the ancestors � chaos replaced the order that once ruled supreme. The unity that once was Moltaria�s strength was gone. All of the tribes separated from each other. Each clan blamed the last for the defeat on the Day of Shadows. Each of the clans sought their glory separately. Warring against the bug like plants of the Khorta and desperately trying to rid the universe of the menace of the blue skinned Drortah. Some of the attacks were victorious � others were not. Almost every Moltarian was said to be born with at least three scars from all of the fighting that was in his blood. And this chaos continued for another three decades. *** The infighting � the uncoordinated war efforts have taken their toll on many. Many of the once proud warriors of our people are now growing weary of all the hardships that are caused by the lack of unification. In a desperate attempt to restore order a family of Heatuks took one of their ships and went in search of the ancestors. The ship was shot down before it could reach orbit. The attack was not an isolated occurrence. If any tribe tried to search for the ancestors they met with a similar end. Now, along with the chaos and infighting was confusion. Also, whenever any one tribe seemed to get too big � a disaster struck them and the power they once had was gone. Homes were attacked in the night. People were mugged in the streets. Ships were vandalized and destroyed. This was not the world that was set up by the hands of the ancestors. *** This general state of confusion continued for over three decades. It was clear that there were traitors among us � but who were they and why were they trying to hurt their own people? Whatever passed for morale was gone. The once proud temples that stood for the ideology and greatness of all Moltarians were reduced to ruins that housed many of the homeless Moltarians. The pain, despair, and hopelessness that now gripped the once proud people reached epic proportions. Famines wiped out many of the crops and the lava has been tainted. Hunger has killed many and drove others to madness. It was as bad as it could get � or so we hoped. That was when they appeared. They were twice the size of any Moltarian. Their skin was bluish on one side and was greenish on the other. These monstrous beasts appeared and ruthlessly slaughtered what was left of our once proud military. An army of these beasts rounded up every Moltarian they could find. They spoke in a language unknown to us. But their savageness earned them the name � Phtor, the savage ones. The leaders of our tribes were taken away. They then robbed us of our youngest children. The mothers in their weakened state desperately tried to save their offspring � a quick death was their reward. This dark time we called the Age of Blood. In hope and prayer � it won�t last long. *** Three decades have passed since the Age of Blood began. Many of the youths are restless. They feel the fire that once burned in the hearts of their ancestors. Angered by the lack of food � drink � basic rights that belonged to every Moltarian by birthright, they fought back! In a surprise rebellion all of the Phtor were slaughtered. Many were lost in the uprise � but the planet was once again free � or so we thought. Two days after the uprise � it arrived. It stood twice as tall as the Phtor and was shining in a metal like armor. The earth shook with each step it took. The youthful rebels didn�t back down. They were citizens of a free Moltaria � they would not bow down again. They used their torch like powers as they had to defeat the Phtor � only this time it had no effect. The flames danced across its metal body and didn�t slow it down at all. They desperately tried to overpower the creature � but every Moltarian that approached it was cut in half by its massive claw like hands. After ten minutes � all of those that rebelled were dead. The beast that slain them was unharmed. It said no word. It merely left � shaking the ground with each step it took. Many mourned the loss of they kin. It was indeed a dark day for the people. They named the unstoppable beast the Kjoranan � it was their name for an unstoppable evil. *** Many decades have passed. Several uprises have occurred � the Kjoranan stopped them all. If there was any hope left � it did not shine too brightly. Some try to see refuge in the wilderness � but they are always brought back. The lucky ones were executed � the unlucky ones were taken away. Then one day, a small planet eclipsed one of the suns. Much to the horror of the people � we learned that it was not a planet. A weapon of vast destruction fired down and disintegrated the city Molon. The people � the buildings � nothing remained. It was rumored that there was a small rebel contingent hidden there, but the Phtor couldn�t find anything. There was no word for the thing that destroyed that city. Nothing could describe anything so horrid. *** There is so little left of the once proud heritage that is Moltaria. None of the temples can be repaired. All of the knowledge that once made our people strong � is lost due to the destruction at the hands of the Phtor and Kjoranan. The pride we once felt is ripped away as we are treated like animals by the Phtor. Many of the healthy people wish to die in the hope that there is something better on the other side. In the days of the ancestors, it is said that there once was an Oracle called Pheonyx, a powerful creature whose insight helped guide the ancestors, but there is no proof that this legendary creature ever existed. There are some that claim there are clues to the whereabouts of Pheonyx in the ruins of the Moltarian capital � but that is a stronghold of the Phtor. *** Whether this will be able to be read is unknown. So few of us are still able to read and write. So few of us remember anything of how we were. But a record must be kept. The past must not be forgotten. If all of those who have perished died forgotten � there would lie a greater tragedy than any our people have faced. Starmatus Heatuk / Historian of the Ancestors |