A tale of the king, azure

The Legend of King Azure: Savior of the Stickman World

In the beginning, there was nothing but an endless white expanse, silent and still. Then, from beyond the void, came a hand — ancient and unseen — holding a simple pencil.

With a slow, deliberate motion, the pencil pressed against the blankness. Lines formed, rough at first, then sharper, filled with purpose. From that first stroke, a figure emerged: a stick figure, colored a vivid, brilliant blue, glowing against the emptiness.

He opened his eyes and breathed in his first breath. He was Azure — the first of his kind.

Unbeknownst to him, the pencil that created him was no ordinary writing tool. Embedded deep within its wooden body were Power Stones: crystals born from the primal forces of existence — Fire, Water, Earth, Air, and Spirit. As the pencil shaped Azure, a shard of the Spirit Stone imbued him with thought, emotion, and potential beyond simple drawing.

Azure stood alone in a sea of nothing. But not for long.

More figures were drawn — each with their own color, each with their own spirit. Red, Green, Yellow, Orange, Purple — a rainbow of life sprung up around Azure. They called themselves Stickmen, beings of simple form but infinite possibility.

Together, they began to build the first home: Primoria — a village of towering pillars and gentle hills, crafted with magic and care. They lived in peace, learning, growing, evolving.

The generations of Stickmen that followed grew smarter. Some learned to manipulate elements, crafting water wheels, stone houses, and even primitive machines. Their bodies evolved too — gaining joints, hands with fingers, and more expressive faces. Evolution was slow but unstoppable.

And watching over them all was Azure — their leader, their protector, their king.

Red finishes reading the story about their leader and closes it. Red then exits the room and stretches

Red: “Well.. That was an interesting story..”

Red walks down to the city of StickenBurg