It is with great pleasure that I bring you the Dark Myr Race!
"The Myr hail from the planet Issul. The race was born at a time when Issul’s oceans were dying. Wars between ancient leviathans had erupted beneath the waves, in battles so fierce even kingdoms on land were destroyed. But the gods of Issul did not stop the calamity - they fought each other instead of giving aid. At last, one humble goddess named Syronai begged the spirit of Issul for answers. Manifesting herself in the depths, Issul gave Syronai a sacred gift: power to bring forth a single, new creation. With this gift Syronai fashioned the Myr, a race with kingly hearts and furious might. The Myr struck against the leviathans with abandon, breaking them from war and driving the terrors back into their abysses. With the oceans freed, the gods came together to bless and rule over the Myr. Songs beneath the sea declared that the Myr carried "the heartbeat of Issul herself" and the race flourished under a unified pantheon. Yet of all the gods, Syronai remained their first love.
In the chaos of their arrival, the Myr were poured into Terminus’ waters, but it was like poison in their bodies and they could not breathe. In an attempt to save them, one of their gods, Nythir, sacrificed his body which was composed of Issul’s seas, creating a breathable sphere of water within the ocean. Such a mighty gift, yet tragically fleeting as the waters mixed again. With selfless instinct, Syronai rushed to help the Myr, concentrating her power to transform and adapt the bodies she had created long ago - yet, mysteriously her aid was kept at bay. Sickened with grief as she watched her Myr perishing, the brave goddess gambled on another, more perilous chance: leveraging the essence of her immortality to recreate the Myr anew. In a brilliant moment of power, the miraculous exchange saved the Myr, transforming them forever. But the gift carried a merciless cost, and Syronai's exhausted body was found dead on the shore. Many say the cries of anguish loosed that day still linger in the murky waters. The agony of losing Syronai poisoned their hearts, sorrow twisted into bitterness and bitterness to hate until darkness consumed them.
In the present Frail Age, the Dark Myr are seeking old glories. They have subdued their realm of the ocean and built a glorious city in honor of Syronai. Yet beneath the surface of splendor, there is an unsettling current that runs through the deep places, where the Dark Myr have descended like the ancient leviathans they were born to destroy."
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The Pantheon Team.