Kingdom Of Melin
In a quiet village, tucked deep in the kingdom of Melin, a kingdom that stretches far from the mist-covered mountains of Melin in the north to sun-kissed serene coastal lake down south. A small beautiful and serene village nestled at the foot of the majestic mountains of Melin, embraced by lush, ancient forests that dated to the Age of founding fathers of the kingdom of Melin, sound of gentle melody of waterfall nearby, lies the idyllic village of Lokka. The scent of wood and wildflowers fills the air, carries on a cold gentle breeze down the mountain of Melin that rustles through the leaves of the old forest. The village is cradled by the towering mountain to the north, and surrounded by the tranquil forest to the all-other side. Cascading from the mountains is a cold, crystal clear waterfall, its waters tumbling over rocks, carving its way, though gentle but powerful, before flowing gently into the peaceful river that winds its way through the heart of the village. The village feels rustic and built with respect for the nature, blending beautifully with the landscape. Though it is only the home of a few dozen families, many of the cottages have stone walls and wooden beam with thatched roofs, a view that harmonizes with the surrounding environment. Flowers accompany the cobblestone road leading to the cobblestone plaza that hosts a small yet bustling weekly market, where villagers gather to share stories and laughter as well exchanging goods with travelling traders that comes to the village. Around the village are small communal garden and a few small farmlands, tended by the villagers. As day turns into night, the village comes alive with the soft glow of lanterns, their light glittering from afar under the starlit sky, mirrored by the reflecting calm waters of the river, with mist-covered mountains looming in the background, creating a sense of calm and enchantment that permeates the villages. Lokka Village has the aura of harmony and tranquility. The villagers live in harmony and balance with their surroundings; however, it hides a chilling legend that had been passed down through generations.
The tale of Headless Lokka
The tale spoke of a creature, fearsome in its name, eerie in its appearance and the mysteries that surrounds the origin of it. The creature is known as the "Headless Lokka". A minotaur-like creature that roam the forest surrounding village of Lokka, where the village receives its name from. A lokka is only half the size of a normal adult that lives in the forest, it possesses a human like upper body and lower body of a bull. It has a bull's head with a sheep like horns. The fur covering the Lokka body can vary in color, ranging from deep brown to black. A lokka, though derives from the minotaur species, does not have the same might and tenacity that minotaur has. Its diet is consisting of berries and leaves, and it does not attack human, some villagers have managed to tame a lokka that can be used to help cultivate farmland and pulling carts. The headless Lokka, often spoke in hushed tones as villager recounting their eerie encounter and its terrible appearance. Standing at a towering height of 2.5 meters, this monstrous nightmare of strength and fear is a truly remarkable sight though fearsome sight to behold. The headless Lokka powerful physique, with its broad shoulder and heavily muscled arms, riddled with scars and blade wound, seemingly hewn from relentless encounter with knights and adventure that seek to gain glory in killing the headless monster. The absence of a head is chilling sight, replaced by the jagged sight of a neck. A jagged and ominous, a twisted scar remains as a haunting reminder of those that encounter this beast. Dark hooves, like the darkness of the night, support the creature's massive frame, giving it an air of incredible strength. Its muscular body, with scars beneath its jet-black fur, making it seem like the creature emerge from the very essence of night itself. The monster wields a weapon of formidable proportions, the headless legend brandishes a massive wooden club hewn from the remains of a dead willow tree. This weapon has been transformed into an imposing instrument of destruction was once vibrant with life. The wood's grain has darkened with age, and the surface is etched with untold scars of countless battles and encounter. Legend speaks of the headless lokka as a creature born from the energy of the dark king. Reincarnate from the curses that bound the evil and sinister king. It is said that in a time long past, a lokka fell into the tomb of the dark king, whereas the location is unknown, and smashed it head onto the floor of the tomb, carved with the rune sealing the tomb, the blood enveloping the ancient rune give essence of life to the dead lokka, though without its head, and left to wander the world in a state of pain and eternal torment, it became a force of nature, a legend passed throughout generations, an embodiment of chaos and raw power. Some tales also tells that the headless lokka is a headless guardian that guards the entrance of the dark king tomb, where its presence serves as both a warning and a protector.
In the depths of obscurity, I once roamed the land as a lowly nameless monster, a mere flicker in the tapestry of existence. My days were a mundane and relentless cycle of instinct and survival, driven by the simplest desires, hunger and survival. A day of mine consist of filling my stomach and the urge to keep living and avoiding danger. My form was unremarkable, a shape of lowly slime and my purpose of existence merely to scuttle through the shadows and hopefully go unnoticed in the grand scheme of the world that I live in. But then, a fate that I dreaded day by day occurred. An encounter with a random adventurer sealed my fate in this endless race of survival. A mere stab of an iron blade through my core closes this book I call life. I felt it touch, cold and it swept me away from the mundane life I had known. In that instant, it was not pain, but anger that I felt as I thought "this is the end". Suddenly, I was engulfed in ethereal light and I was torn from my former shell, my existence shifting and reshaping like clay in the hands of a master sculptor. Is this the afterlife? Is this another chapter of my existence? My new form emerged, towering and imposing, embodiment of raw power and eternal darkness. I no longer scrape the ground, for now I have legs, or hooves should I say. My former gel like body has been rebirth into a powerful physique with muscular arm, and broad shoulder, though there is something I felt familiar, I do not have eyes, or nose, or mouth to begin with. In fact, I do not have a head. Surprisingly, it felt both strange and liberating, as if the mundane weight of my previous life had been lifted, leaving only the sensation of boundless potential and strength. As my consciousness returned, I found myself standing in a realm beyond my belief. Shadows danced in the corner of my ey..no, perception, and the air itself seemed to be filled with mana and energy. Despite the absence of my head, I have an awareness, much like my previous form, surpassed the limitations of reason and language. I felt an emotion surging through me like a storm, a vivid splash upon the canvas of my new existence. The cold of touch of iron reaching my core, the sensation I can still feel in my chest. In that sudden moment, I feel a rush of anger and I let out a roar. Gone were the days of mere slugging through mundane life of survival. Now I possessed a purpose, a driving force that reached far beyond my humble origins. No longer confined behind the shadows, sneaking away from smallest danger, I embraced the role that had been bestowed upon me, with strength now felt unparalleled through realms unknown, through mysteries uncharted. The weight and burden of my new existence pressed upon me, a constant reminder of purpose that accompanied my new life. Yet, amidst the grand scheme of my rebirth, a faint nostalgia lingered, a reminder of the simplicity of my former life, the innocence of being driven by instincts alone, a bittersweet recollection, a reminder at the gate of reincarnation, fragments of past remained. And so, as I surpassed the boundaries of ethereal realm into manifest of magic existence, I am a product of both my lowly origins and a vessel of extraordinary power. With every step I now take, I am a testament of unfathomable potential that lies within, waiting for me, waiting to be unlocked by my hands as I shape my new destiny.