The Story of the Loomi

As told by Cirrus Talmage

 

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My name is Joey Yoder and this is my 3^rd and final write up for the Loomi. I can’t in good conscious let other media influence my writing. I’ve had a hard time separating my stuff from everyone elses ideas. There is no movie, video games, book or other influence on the story. I’m sorry if this causes any conflict or hardship. This is the last time I will be changing the origin story.

 

As the soul creator of this race/concept, I want it to be known that I don’t mind if someone wants to play, draw, write about, or generally use the Loomi. The ONLY thing I ask is that you ask me first. There are certain concepts that must be conveyed when portraying this race and I want to make sure that it is upheld.

You can get a hold of me at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .

 

I would like to dedicate this whole thing to the people of the Misted Hills. Without you I would never have dreamed up Cirrus, and without him there would be no Loomi.

 

I will include the race description, origin, and current history. Hopefully it’ll answer some questions and make the whole thing run a little smoother.

 

Loomi- a race of human from the last creation of the earth. They have the ability to evolve or adapt to any environment. This ability doesn’t happen over generation but instead over hours. Only a select few are born with wings every generation. Only a very few have had the ability to fly with the wings as current life has made them needless. All of their once great tecnology and empire is now lost. Their life span is 150 years for all current recorded Loomi.

 

Never in history has the whole story been told. Both sides are never in the history book, only the winning side. The exception is the Loomi. Our story has never been told. This is oral tradition, with hundreds of generations worth of embellishing, being written down for the hope that someone may read it and know why we will die out. Why we must die out.

-Cirrus of Aman Peak, Last of the Loomi.

 

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The Oceans boiled with God’s fury. It was the creations fault that our father sought our destruction. We had raped the earth and taken what wasn’t ours. Only to use it to gain more; more power, wealth, fame. Ours was the greatest of those who took. God had handed down his judgment and even then we defied him. Our souls were not our own, and yet we ran to keep them.

 

As God and his army took back the earth, we fled from it. The king of the Loomi ordered all of his people onto their great ship. Like an ark, it sailed into the sky and took the Loomi away. At the moment of ultimate destruction the ark folded and disappeared.

With no place to go and running out of time the Loomi decided to come back and beg for forgiveness or be taken to our deaths. When the ship unfolded, we found ourselves falling through the firmament of a planet. There was no saving the ship or most of our people. We were aliens to this world and the humans made sure we knew it. Our kind was scattered to the wind and our empire was smashed. What remained of us kept to small collections, waiting the day we could rise again, or fall away. The fighting spirit of our people never died.

The Loomi set up small towns and hid in secrete with the humans and elves. The only problem was that once or twice a gerneration a the crown princes’ and princesses were born. They were either exalted or feared. There was not much inbetween.

 

At the end of our race, we had built a stronghold and even had a king. We had pulled ourselves up out of the dust and tried to make life for ourselves.

The current king had set up his empire in a valley that had little access to the outside world. His son, Ronic, was born and the courts excepted him as the next ruler with now contention. Everything was well in the empire until, one day Ronic was riding out to the mountain passes and saw another prince flying, or more gliding, from cliff to cliff. When Ronic called to him the Loomi attacked him with fury and fear. The battle ended in a draw, with neither really wounded.

“What is your name citizen?” Ronic asked.

“Cirrus is my name, but I’m no citizen.”

Ronic over time convinced the young Loomi to come with him to meet the council and King. They were horified to see another prince had been born and over days and weeks questioned him on where he’d been born and who his parents were. Finnaly Cirrus revealed that his mother was a handmaid in the King’s house and that their night of passion had bore him into existance. When his mother saw he had been born a prince, she took him from the city and raised him in the mountains.

Over the next few years Cirrus and Ronic grew close. Cirrus was trained in the ways of the courts but his heavy handed approach left him at odds with much of the council. He was soon given a jobs as an ambassator, a death sentence in the eyes of most Loomi.

(From this point on everything is Misted Hills Storyline)

After 5 years Cirrus returned with a man named Jericodin and tales of a land of mist and magic. The council orded their deaths under law of hearicy. Cirrus, Jericodin and Ronic fought for their lives. Ronic was killed just outside the city. Jerichodin was killed just outside the Misted Hills by an assassin.

Cirrus returned only once during the war with the underground elves. He found that they had been killed to the last one. Nothing of his people was left. He now lives on Aman Peak with his wife Bijin, trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered life.