Intro to the Groka

An introduction to the Groka, one of the playable races in Entyl: Chaos Prophecies, the MMORPG that I'm helping to develop.

The first of us died within the month. The second generation lasted a year. The third generation almost made it to a decade before they too were considered a failure. With the fourth generation, we survived. Magic took hold, flooding our veins, permeating our very existence. A shroud of magic covered our hooves and sparkled around us, until we learned to control it.

They were so proud of themselves when we showed our powers. Those mages, so smug in their own powers, their ability to transform one being into another. They taught us their language, gave us a culture and a name.

Groka. Name for the breed of horses they used and as a nod for the orphaned humans who had given their lives for ours. Extra stock, they had called those children, disposing of the ones who did not take to the bonding process, as well as those left over after success.

We learned much from those mages, those human mages. We learned to harness the power within us. The gift of magic that their work had bestowed upon us. We learned to harness the magic around us, drawing from the world that which we needed to power the spells taught us by the humans.We learned to hate. Learned to hate the humans who had done this, not only to us, but to themselves. The disregard for the sanctity of life.

Most importantly, we learned to love. Learned the value of life and sharing that understanding with others. We managed to save a few of those orphans from the slaughter, smuggling them away into the mountains with those few of us who could escape as well. The rest gave their newly granted lives to buy us the time to escape.

We did not expect to survive that first winter, hiding in the mountain forests. We shivered and lost many, especially among the orphans, before we learned to control the magic and learned to warm ourselves and those under our protection. We spoke to the trees and convinced them to bend their limbs into our homes. We spoke to the animals, those who hadn’t gone to sleep, taught them to watch for the mages who would follow. We learned to hunt. We learned to forge with our magic. We learned to survive.

The mountain forests could not hold us past the winter, could not protect us, so we continued to wander, eventually returning our orphans to the humans we found along our way. The ones who were not mages. As the last orphan was placed, the remainder of us gathered together and ran. We ran as far as we could while the light still burned in the sky. We ran as the moon shown above. We ran as the stars guided us. We ran. Then we could run no more, for there was no more room to run.

The oceans glared back at us, defiant and smug. This was not something we could overcome. We knew nothing of how to tame and control this foe. We were forced back into the forests, where we waited for the humans to follow us. Years passed and we waited. We trained. We learned. Our magic grew. Our skills with blade and bow expanded. We learned to forge the metals of the nearby mountains, always just enough for our needs.

The humans never came, yet we felt their presence. The land heaved around us, breaking apart and forcing us to move again, lest we fall captive again.

When once again the land was still, it was changed. We trained. We learned. We waited. Yet still the humans did not come.

Our elders feel it is time to learn what has befallen the humans. Our home, surrounded by mountains, guarded and hidden by magics, untouched by humans, would remain that way. We few would venture forth and learn what had become of the humans after these many long years.