|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hermit Omega Vice Captain
|
 Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 10:53 pm
Μεταμόρφωσης στο ζενίθMetamorphosis to the Zenith
A tale of Ascension.
To become Heroes, Demons, even Gods....
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 10:54 pm
Ο νόμος
The Law
1. Follow the rules of the guild.
2. All characters are mortal, they can die at any time. There must also be consistency.
3. Have fun, quality over quantity, glad to have you here.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hermit Omega Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hermit Omega Vice Captain
|
Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 10:56 pm
Το παραμύθι
The Tale
Swordsmen and Sorcerers
In ancient histories, as it is recorded, magic was part of daily life. Not only were their sorcerers and wizards, but there were beings who's very core was reliant on magic. There were elves, dwarves, elementals, demons, dragons, fairies, creatures beyond imagination. The world was in constant battle, war after war, no matter how many were fought to the end, more would be sure to follow. No conquest was eternal, no rule absolute.
There came a day when something unknowable happened. The sky erupted with a sudden light, the world engulfed with a blast thought to be the end of times. It stopped as suddenly as it started. Suddenly, there was no more magic. The creatures who relied on it died. The prophets lost contact with their gods. Immortal sorcerers crumbled to dust as their age caught up with them. Magic had died. The world fell into even greater chaos as the wielders of magic, who ruled the world, we overthrown.
Now, Thousands of years after the death of magic, the nations continued their wars, a constant fight for dominance. They elves, every prideful, though quickly becoming indistinguishable from the humans. The Dwarves staying below ground, away from such things. Monsters of the world, almost completely wiped out.
It was then, that the “calamity” occurred. Whether it was a tear in time, fate, or a product of man, the sky once again was covered in hellfire, and energy surged back into the world. It did not bring with it any beings, but it almost had some sort of willpower of it’s own, it wanted to recreate the world that had been lost. Man was the energies tool, it sought to warp Man to it’s own bidding. Yet it was patient, it did not want to tear the world quickly, it knew that would end all life. Yet it would warp them over time. As men and woman, began to become more than they understood.
This is where the story begins, the war between disciples of Order and Chaos, an awakening of Sorcerers, and Heroes. A tale of pointless war, and a world that wants it’s gods back, and it’s demons. Welcome to the Tale of Swordsmen and Sorcerers. Watch as the Madness creeps back into the world, not only on the face of the earth, but in the hearts of men. Watch the bloodshed, and political intrigue. Watch the love, the sadness, the Saints, and the tyrants.
This particular tale begins in Orsin Vear, a small village that lays in the shadows of Mount Feirn, a rather small mountain surrounded by the hulking monstrosities that make up the rest of the ThurAhnkian mountains. Orsin Vear was placed just on the border between two massive warring superpowers. It had the luck to be placed far enough out of the way to remain unscathed from the horrors of that war. It is a peaceful place, normal townsfolk, only the occasional outsider visiting. A place of wind and cherry blossom trees. Of festivals and happiness. Only, townsfolk started disappearing. As the number missing grew, people cycled search parties, everyone taking one day out of their week to search for any sign of what had happened to these people. One group, when out searching, came across something they couldn’t quite describe, something that felt like a dream, something that changed their very essence. While atop the mountain, there was a light. Visions. Then they went back.
When the other townsfolk heard of this, they went to go investigate, only what they found was not of a gentle nature. The font of magic that had flowed within the first group accepted them as destined heroes, tyrants, and gods, the rest, it rejected. It twisted their bodies with cruel malice. Corrupted their minds with the need for blood. As these monstrosities raced down the mountain, the group who felt the touch of magic, sat together, conversing. Unaware, that there were beings coming to kill them. So it begins.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 10:57 pm
Η γεωγραφία
The Geography
Εξουσία της Αλήθειας
The Dominion of Truth
Dominion Mainlands- The Dominion of Truth's mainlands, were once beautiful sweeping plains. Now, after thousands of years of civilization brewing in these lands, there is not much wildlife there anymore. Giant, sprawling cities cover the lands, the main roads have all been cobbled. Walls surround the cities. The population of these lands is staggering. Outside the cities are never ending farms, producing food for the massive swarms of people.
The government is a theocracy. It is ruled by the Ulmatus Scion, the highest figure in the Religion of Truth. It goes downward to cardinals and bishops until it falls to the priests. The priests serve as mayors, and judges, using the law of their god as the law of the physical realm. They are against every other religion, and people born here are taught from birth that Truth, is the ultimate god. God above all the other gods. Anyone who worships any other deity, is wrong, and must convert, or be purified in sacred flame.
The capital city is simply The City of Truth.
Azaralie Steppes- South of the Dominion:Hot stony lands. Filled with wild animals, coyote, goats, deer, things of that nature. There are plants, but only plants that like hot weather. It is owned by the Dominion, though it is still it's own entity, priests are dispatched to every town, to watch over the goings on. There are no major cities, there is no capital.
Gozo Desert- South of Azaralie: Desert and sand. The same political system as Azaralie, though not as many towns. It is a nearly never-ending sea of heat and earth. Nearly Impassible.
Burkescht Jungle- East of the Dominion: A deep, hot, wet jungle. Filled with poisonous plants, animals, large jungle-beasts. Though technically controlled by the Dominion, deep within the jungle are still headhunters, tribes that the Dominion have been unable to burn out. It's small cities are run by priests.
Turingun- North of the Dominion. Heavily populated forestland. Though owned by the dominion, priests are merely advisers to kings here. They are taken very seriously, but the true political power is in the royal families. It is very beautiful land, very scenic. There is plenty of game, though there are farms there as well, one could survive off the land itself if they chose.
Sliverwhyte Mountains- North of Turingun: A normal mountain range, there are a few Dominion run villages in the passes, but most people do not go north beyond the mountains.
Lariyth Sea-East of the Dominionlands: A humongous body of saltwater, that leads to uncivilized lands.
Βάρβαροι Δημοκρατίας
Sica Vinus
Sica Vinus- Sica Vinus encompasses several different nations. Considered barbarians by the Dominion, they are a republic, controlled by officials by nearly a hundred micro-countries. There is countless types of geography all throughout Sica Vinus. Mountains, forest, jungle, hotlands. It is a nation that rivals the power of the entire Dominion, though there is internal turmoil.
Carrodia Lake- The largest body of freshwater in great nations. Over three thousand square miles of surface area, it is beautiful, giant, and deep.
Orsin Vear-This is where the main characters will have lived at the story beginning. It is on the foot of Mount Feirn. It is peaceful, has a council of men and women who take care of the politics, and it switches out every couple months. It is surrounded by hills, and small mountains. There are an abundance of rivers and cherry blossom trees. It is beautiful land.
Αμφισβήτηση Κτηματολογίου
Disputed Lands
ThurAhnkian Mountains- A humongous mountain-range. Covered in snow and ice year round, a focal point for storms and blizzards. It is what separates the two nations, and what makes the war so hard. Going over them is horribly dangerous, going under them, through the extensive cave networks, is even more so. There are no villages up there, there is no life...
Gortha Forests- Very dark forest lands. Ruled by nature. Though there are some villiages here, they are very quite and peaceful, staying away from the rest of the world. They try not to draw the attention of the animals in the forest to them.
Quaric Tundra- Land that is pure snow and ice. People do live out here, but nobody really goes to or from there......
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hermit Omega Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hermit Omega Vice Captain
|
Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 10:58 pm
απλά πράγματα
Other Facts
Θρησκεία
Religion
Note, although there are no gods in this world currently, people still believe in what they will believe.
Truth- The main religion in this world. Truth is the one true god to millions of people. His symbol is the sacred flame that burns away all unholy things. The religion requires at least an hour of daily worship, and if you sin, it requires ritual purification by fire.
The religion does not tolerate other religions. To it's followers, though there are other gods, Truth is the god above all the other gods, and therefore all the other gods are not worthy of worship. So people who believe in anything other than the doctrine of truth, blasphemers, are converted or burned at the stake. The word of truth is of the utmost importance. They believe that in the end times, the more people who know Truth, the better the afterlife will become.
There are other religions, but are all rather small.
Όντα
Beings
There are currently only humans in the world anymore when it comes to beings with intellect. All other have been either bred into humanity, or died off for relying too much on magic. When demons and good spirits start returning to the world, they are invisible entities, capable of almost anything. Usually they are not something that can be fought with a sword, though they can cause sickeness, wipe out entire armies in a bloodbath, possess, or cause miracles.
If you do have the blood of another race in your bloodline, then you can slowly start showing the sign of it as the essence of magic grows stronger.
Μαγεία
Magic
Magic is something forgotten, something recently returned. Though this is a fantasy roleplay, although we will all have the essence of magic within us, this does not mean suddenly we will be able to blow stuff up with our minds. The magic will start off very slow, it will start off in the form of general good luck. Over time, based on your decisions, it will blossom into more. If you want to focus completely on magic, it will start off with ritual magic, that takes a very long time, and is not definite. then eventually, it will become a magic you can control at your whim.
If you are of a martial prowess, then it will start off just being you skills are slightly better than they were, over time you will eventually be able to be a master of your stylized version of combat. Moving faster than the eye can see, or cutting through buildings and the like.
Over time, magic will find it's way into items as well. As the world needs legendary heroes, heroes need legendary weapons. So, eventually even the weapons we use will have power.
In essence, when the RP starts, everyone will be normal human beings. Nothing extraordinary, especially since everyone will be simple townsfolk.
Καθημερινή Ζωή
Daily Life
Now, getting to what exactly it means to be a 'simple townsfolk'. You will choose a job, like blacksmith, farmer, merchant, ect. or a child of a family. That is all you know, there is nothing spectacular about you yet. Eventually there will be. But we are not starting out as 10000000 year old antisocial badasses. We are all starting out as normal human beings. You can either believe in truth, or a religion of your choice. We are not in the Dominion of Truth, and have the option to believe whatever we want. If you want a little bit of a fighting background, then maybe you had a skirmish here or there with some bandits. Me and Ragnvald will be both playing soldiers who got lost in the war. We are the outsiders who will be helping lead the townsfolk once things go bad. We are not going to be any more powerful than any of you, we will just know the outside world a little better, and how to make money.
The reason I am doing it this way, is because it forces us all to band together. It gives us all a common goal, it gives me and Ragnvald the ability to keep the RP moving, and it will let the world expand as we go, being that your people will not know much of the outside world, we can explain it as it fits in with the story. I understand it can be daunting to make an ordinary character and still make them interesting, If you would like assistance, all you have to do is ask.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 10:59 pm
|
Hermit Omega Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hermit Omega Vice Captain
|
Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 11:01 pm
Darius Ketzer---------------
Post One
Darius sat in a chair in the corner of the room. His two handed sword and shield leaning against his left side. His one handed sword in his hands. He was anxiously twirling it on the floor, it’s point biting softly into the wooden planks. He wasn’t sure exactly what to do with himself. He was pretty sure that the other people in the room felt the same way more or less. He didn’t want to look at them. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the tip of his blade. His mind was racing, trying to piece together the events that had occurred just a few hours ago. The adrenaline and confusion making it seem like mere seconds, and an eternity all at once.
In the beginning it was simple. Darius was by all rights, a mercenary. He had his ideas on the world, but more or less could accept that nobody else would be willing to accept and live by his ideas. He did not wish to force them on anybody. So instead he lived forcing other people’s ideas onto people. He killed, didn’t like killing, but was thrown into the lifestyle, pumped up on the idea of glory. To fight for his king. He was but a child, looking for the awnser to the meaning of life, seeking with a blade, fighting in the name of his king. He no longer had a king. He fought for money, not ideas, glory, honor, he fought for money.
There certainly were times when he had refused to do certain missions. Things that his morals just could not let him do. He wouldn’t interfere with such things. He was just one man. He knew how to fight well enough. But one man against many had always proven to lead to failure. He knew, he had ran men through who had their back turned to him, overwhelmed, having thought that death couldn’t come for them. He was a rather good warrior, but it was his knowledge that he couldn’t win every battle that had kept him alive. It was the logic, planning, and instinct. Avoid the battles you cannot win.
It was he and another man that came to this town. They had been fighting on the side of Sica Vinus, Darius had seen the man before. He was rather sure that they had fought a few times on opposite ends of battlefields. He was another soldier for hire. Having chosen the idea of free choice in morals and religion rather than the tyranny of the dominion; just as Darius had. They were on the march over the ThurAhnkian Mountains, and by chance they had come across a contingent of Dominion forces heading the other way. Up in the horrid cold of the ThurAhnkian’s that is a bad situation to put it lightly.
The two armies came across each other as the weather was turning quite nasty. It was always snowing up there, but the wind was beginning to pick up. The Dominion was on the other side of a giant precipice, separating the armies with a gap too wide to leap. Thus ensued a battle of words, which Darius was sure brought up the moral of either side. Everyone discussing all the naughty things they did to the other’s mother. Screaming insults over the howl of the rising blizzard. A few men tried to loose a few arrows at the other side, but the winds wouldn’t let it happen. Then the armies decided to move on, and the blizzard grew angry.
It was pure white every way you look . The winds carried walls of snow, eliminating sight. The screaming howl of air flowing over the jagged rocks removed sound. The frigid cold, the antithesis of hell, removed all feeling. The mind, dimmed. As it stood a quarter of all the armies that try to cross the mountains, never made it to the other side. Darius didn’t want to be part of that quarter. Nevertheless, his mind wasn’t working all that well, nor were anyone in the Sica Vinus group. It was then that the armies collided. Neither new which direction they were headed. In truth Darius was sure they were both going in circles. It was only a matter of time before they either collided or died from the cold. They found each other, and kinda melded in with each other, then realizing what happened began trying to kill each other. The slaughter was instant, Darius wanted no part of it, he was mad with the cold. There could be no sort of victory, only death. So he wandered off in the confusion of battle and storm.
To be honest, he didn’t really remember what happened then, if the other man followed him, or if he followed the other man. There was no conversation between them as they traveled, as the cold was liable to freeze your spit. Yet the bonding between them was instant. It blurred together for Darius, he wasn’t sure if his new friend remembered it any better than him. They had a simple common goal. Survive. They managed to get off the mountains, somehow even managed to get off on the Sica Vinus side. They ended up in Orsin Vear. A beautiful little town. It seemed to be abundant in every necessity, food, water, friendship. Tired and half dead, they made it. After a few days of recovery, they were told about the current predicament that had befallen the town. Townsfolk disappearing. They had been sending out search parties, to find anything that could lead them to the missing ones. Darius and his friend decided to help the people, Darius wasn’t sure if the other Merc had asked for a fee, but they had helped Darius recover. He felt like he owed them.
So every night they lead the people around. Making sure everyone stayed safe. Using their knowledge of such things to look for things the townsfolk might miss. It brought no conclusions. Even a few hours ago brought nothing new to finding them. But it caused him to not want to return out there. He wanted to leave this place. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was that happened. This being why he was so confused. They were making their way to the summit of Mount Feirn. He wasn’t quite sure if they reached or not. It is then that things start to get blurry.
To Darius, it seemed like a flash that radiated out from the back of his eye sockets. The world inverted in color, hard became soft, up became down. The world lit with a sudden radiance, he could hear the insects within the soil, he could smell the trees. He could feel the heartbeats of the people around him. The earth seemed to shake as the ground was enveloped in a searing white light. His ears began to ring, a fury unleashed that overtook every ounce of his being. It felt like his teeth extended in length forever, rooting into the ground and the sky, his body was wiped from existence.
He had no flesh, he was simple ethereal energy. Before him was an ocean, it’s waters a swirl of all the pieces of the spectrum of color. Three suns rose off the horizon, eclipsed by three moons. White fire creeping out from a circle of black abyss. Swirling around in a diamond patter, the astral bodies sunk into the see and the world grew dark. The waves of the ocean blew over his absence of form. The colors sank into nothing. Then opened an eye. An eye at the center of the ocean. A whirlpool as the rainbow waters were swallowed by the essence of the eye. The eye was on him. Focused intently on his being. On everything that made him. Knowing him, everything that he had done. Light radiated from the black pupil, as crimson flooded outward from it. The eye began rolling, drawing him in. A vacuum that overtook him. He was sucked in.
There was an exchange of words. There was a man drinking the milk from the teats of the moon, creatures swimming about him. He was a child of the astral sea, he grew wings, Darius became one with him. There was a conversation, between him and a woman who was half panther, naked, speaking sweet nothings in his ear while clawing up his chest. Pulling out his organs one at a time. Setting them in a bowl on a bronze altar. She scratched a circle onto his forehead and from it erupted a light that incinerated the world. He fell through the nothingness. He was nothing, he was everything. The cosmos was bleeding, he was being devoured by women, he was raised onto an altar, devoured, cannibalized, nothing. Everything.
There was more to it, but he couldn’t quite recall it. He felt changed. He thought it was hallucination. Some sort of delirium. Only, it was too real. It was more than a dream. It affected him somehow. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He had known the horrors of war. He had known the effects of mind altering substances. This was more. This was real, but not. This felt like he was smashed by the finger of the god of death, boiled, molded again, and sent back into the mortal plain. He and the others awoke simultaneously. They were all on the ground. All were confused. Darius himself wanted to scream. Never did he experience anything like it. He wanted to shrug it off as a relapse into the madness brought on by the cold. He couldn’t though, not when everyone else admitted that they had similar experiences.
They now sat in what served as a community building. Nobody had talked. Everyone was still trying to make sense of what happened. Darius felt himself being a little jealous of the townsfolk involved in the incident. This being because they all knew each other, they could support each other. Darius didn’t know any of them, he had nobody he could lean on. He kept spinning his sword. Wondering what it all could mean. What was the vision that clawed it’s way into his skull? Was it mass hysteria? No, it was almost a religious experience. He didn’t believe in any gods himself, but now he could understand why people might. He felt like his mind might not ever recover.
He closed his eyes. Then opened them again. Visions, recollection. Screaming, fire, flesh, eyes. Yes eyes. He knew that the eyes were important. They were reoccurring. Everyone he encountered in that vision either had one or three eyes. Eyes that didn’t see the material world. Eyes that saw more. He didn’t know how he knew, he didn’t know what it meant. Only now he was realizing that the more he thought about it, the more confused he got. He couldn’t remember it all. But his body was still jolting with the energy from it. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He couldn’t stop. He ground his teeth and tried to start smiling. The smile wouldn’t come.
He glanced around the room. His companion’s faces were blurred. The shock seemed to wipe their names from his memory. He couldn’t even remember the mercenaries name. He was disgusted with himself. Feeling weak, feeling like a tool for a cause he would never understand. He realized that he was already a tool, but not to this degree. This felt too big. Too much beyond him. He was nothing, he was mortal, he wanted to scream.
Darius stopped spinning his blade.
“Will someone please get me something to drink?…. Something to clear my head…”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 2:01 am
Kristalia was sprawled in the middle of the floor, her hands on the back of her head, her silvery blond locks all ruffled and wild. She had been laying there staring at the ceiling for hours now.
Her head feeling heavy and light at the same time as the recent events danced around the back of her mind, she also had a lingering sense of being in a dream.
The only thing keeping her tied to reality was the never ending sound of a sword hitting the planks on the floor. Many a times in her thoughts had she thought about yelling at the man to stop,to let her drift away. But in truth she was scared, fear creeping into her soul as the thought of going back into that blasted vision and actually living it once again decended on her.
Quietly she tried to get the meaning of the vision,but she couldn't. Out of everything she saw and touched in the vision only a few things could she truly remember.
She remembered a Woman with the eyes of a sphinx, She also remembered the feeling of being burned alive yet her skin would not mark nor scar. Another thing that stuck with her, were whispers and the sense of someone looking at her from the inside out.
She was about to cry out in fear but was stopped by a sound, or rather the absence of a sound. The young woman used the strength in her back to lift herself into a sitting position, her locks covering her face. She looked around at the people she grew up with, feeling horrible for them and also alien, to her it was as if her own self had been kept hostage by the vision.
She did not dwell on this much and instead searched the group to see the one who so dared take away the sound keeping her sane. "The merc!"
She was about to complain to him, and found it silly, Insane even to do so. She sighed and hugged her knees to her for a second before getting up to head to were the food was, she took a skin sack with her name engraved on it and a bit of honey from a jar. Placing a few drops of honey into the sack full of milk and mixing it well.Talia then turned and walked over to the man sitting on the chair and extended the drink to him, a faint smile on her face. "It works better when its warm...But this will help you clear your mind and place something in your stomach..." She quickly added."What was your name again?..." She hoped the man did not find it an insult that she didint remember his name.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 26, 2011 3:30 am
Ragnvald Jeste Daussier leaned against the wall next to the door outside the wooden building that most of the members of their small expedition group resided. Ragnvald could only stay still and cramped up for so long though, patient was never something he had acquired through childhood, and as adulthood was still coming he found no reason to make time for patience.
Idly he poured another handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth and began to crack the shells and eat the small morsel inside, almost as if the small kernel was a taunt or some sick joke to his rumbling stomach. Since the vision things had been hazy, and he had no want to throw up again.
Ragni gave a long sigh as he thought back to past days of the encounter with the other armies over the Thur Ahnkian Mountain, and still he cold feel the cold burns on his cheeks and numb pain throbbing up his arms as he swung his sword wildly as the armies fell upon each other with no warning.
The swordsman was no fool of course, or at least not on certain days, for he knew he killed his own side as well as the enemy. Unconsciously he raised a hand to his stomach, rubbing at the wound bandaged underneath his shirt. Ragni had not mentioned it of course, feeling it was of little concern. He had even tossed the idea of mentioning it to his partner... Darius.
Ragni cracked his knuckles as he looked up to the darkening clear sky. Already he knew it was going to be cold. Pulling his dark tattered cloak tighter about himself he tried to think back to the exploit up into the hills in search of the missing towns people.
In truth Ragni felt bad for the people but did not feel like risking his own a** for others he barely knew and for no coin. But he owed these people for taking him in since he had little coin and not much more to offer in work besides his martial skills and blade, and so he found himself agreeing and following his companion and their fellow towns folk.
Ragnvald followed as he ever did, unless needed to lead Ragni was content with taking orders as well as giving them. Over the past years he had seen Darius and had come to trust the large man's martial prowess as well as his intuition just as much as he trusted his own. As it went they patrolled the town and after a few rounds would make their way toward Mount Feirn and travel further up. But everything seemed to go black to Ragnvald as he made it up toward the summit next to Darius.
As it were he found himself standing knee deep in snow with twisted gnarled trees all around. The only thing besides the dark twisted trees, frigid burning snow, and himself was a large black wolf with black eyes.
The large beast only sat there maybe a wagon away, dark eyes gleaming from a full moon peaking out from behind a mask of clouds. After a moment the wolf licked its maul with a long pink tongue. It was then that the young man noticed the scarlet puddle all around the wolf. The snow was all but gone and the blood seemed to steam from the heat it still held.
Ragni was envious since he thought he could feel his own blood thicken and slow in his veins. Slowly he took a step toward the wolf, ready to drop his hands to a weapon to try and slay the beast if needed, but in a blur the wolf whipped its head up and let out a ear piercing howl, almost as if death was knocking at the door and all the candles had gone out along with the fire. Death was knocking.
Ragni blinked several times, looking fore and behind searching all around for the wolf, but nothing. After a moment he registered that he was no longer among the dark forest and snow, but standing in a dark space where he could barely see more than a horse length all around him.
After a moment he fell into a weary crouch, looking back and forth. His darks eyes fell to the cracked flagstones which foretold of a old empire maybe.
A loud clack sounded all around him and in a flash Ragnvald was standing, longsword in hand as he turned a full circle to face six men and women, three of each. All stood in a circle around him, in one hand a dark blade, and in the other a scale, balanced perfectly.
But then all was lost and he was back to the real world... Or what he thought the real world was.
Spitting another shell out Ragni ran the images back through his mind, analyzing what he could remember. Of course he knew there was more. But how was he too remember. Still he couldn't figure out how he had made it back down Mount Feirn.
After spitting out the last sunflower shell and running a dirty scarred hand across his face Ragni took a swig from his water skin. Finally he turned around to the door, placing both hands on the well worn wood. Eyes flicking back and forth, mind racing, heart thumping...
Turning back around Ragni could only take a painful gulp of air for there stood the large black wolf, same pile of steaming blood, and that same dark cold face.
Ragni scowled, with eyes wide with fear he knew this was a fight he had no way of winning. After a moment of rubbing his eyes and blinking several times in disbelief he glanced back to where the wolf stood.
Nothing was there. At that Ragni turned and twisted the handle on the door and made his way down the short hall into the common room, giving his all to present smirk and a small insubstantial wave he took a seat next to Darius.”So any thoughts on the missing town folks.”
Ragnvald Jeste Daussier was no fool though. There was no way anyone that was taken could be alive. And if there were... Then they would need to die, just like him, but not yet of course. Ragni looked to the splintered and worn floor and gave a broad smile. A real smile that made the sides of his eyes wrinkle like crows feet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 26, 2011 11:00 pm
Darius watched the beautiful silvery-haired girl walk over to him and off the skin with milk and honey. He laid his sword down with his other sword and shield, then smiled and accepted the drink graciously. He had been thinking more along the lines of a strong intoxicating beverage, though he supposed that something was better than nothing. His nerves were shot. His normal controlled, calm, ration self was tossed aside from combating one trial after another. Right when he was starting to feel a little better from the mental decay brought on by the cold, he was stuck by the vision, and he felt utterly broken. Weak in the face of whatever could trigger such an astounding event.
The milk and honey gushed into his mouth, sweet thick and full. He took a large mouthful then extended the skin back to the woman. He chose not to be greedy. He felt battered, but not enough to cast away the little kindnesses of moral respect. He had seen broken men kill their friends and allies in times of despair and greed. He would not let himself fall that far. He could not. It stood against his beliefs. He did think that every man needed to take care of himself, yet at the same time thought that after taking care of yourself, giving your fellow man a little nudge in the right direction couldn't hurt. And if you are receiving that nudge, you should take only what you need. In this case Darius only needed a mouthful to be content, that is all he took.
"I thank you milady," he said looking upon her soft tanned face. "My name is Darius Ketzer."
Then something struck him. There was a minuscule twitch and his whole body felt as if it went rigid with rigor mortiis. His eyes widened involuntarily. The same emotions that had washed over him atop mount Feirn rushed back inside him. His body seemed to shake, time crept slowly towards nonexistence. His focus on the woman was unwavering. Kristalia, he had known her name. A screeching sound exploded from within his head, backed by the rushing roar of a waterfall. A circle of light erupted from Kristalia's forhead, shining with the intensity of the sun. She didn't seem to notice, nobody seemed to notice. Nobody could see what was wrong. How couldn't they? The light filled the room, seeming to burn and fry his flesh, He had to tighten his grip on the drinking skin to keep from dropping it. The light burned into the back of his retinas, pure white visual annihilation. He was sure that he was going blind. He began to panic.
Behind the roar, the intense scream of the light radiating from this girls head, came a howl, followed by the gnashing of teeth and a whir. Suddenly his friend was beside him. The light was gone, his vision returned. He had to suck in a breath. Shaken, but not wanting to show it any more than he had been. He looked to his friend, seeing his hard face brought back a rush of memories. Some control over himself returned. Ragnvald. His friend. His war buddy. The man who despised charity work. Darius did as well, but he hadn't been feeling much like himself as of late, he felt obligated to search for the missing people. He tried to pull his scattered brain back together. What was happening to him? A pain shot through his head like a nail being driven between his eyes by a warhammer. He rubbed the bride go his nose and closed his eyes. Wondering if anyone saw his distress, hoping nobody would ask. He needed booze, a woman, and a goddamn nap.
"Well, being that I have no idea what the hell happened on the mountain... being that I doubt anyone would have an explanation for it. I would put it simply. Whatever happened, was wrong, I am still shaking from it. Yet at the same time, it did not exactly feel malevolent. At least not to me. Yet that does not mean that what ever it is, was not so kind to the people who came before us. It is a guess, and if that is the case, I refuse to look into anymore. I am not ready for anything like that again. It was too much. I can swing my sword into as many people as you want. But something like that digging into my head. I just don't know.
I don't want to be so blunt, but I am not going to lie. I think the townsfolk are dead. I think that they were taken by whatever that was. That is all I got so far. Yet i am not sure. Does anyone else have any suggestions that might lead to a more positive outcome?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hermit Omega Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 29, 2011 4:14 pm
The last of what little resided in her stomach painted the far side of the communal building of Orsin Vear. Her jaw ached. Her mind raced. With a handful of snow, she attempted to remove the bitter taste from her mouth. She frowned. She was shaking. Her fingers scratched into the cold, dry wood of the shutters. A mild warmth reached them, perhaps from the inside of the congregation room or more likely from the steam her own bile that had caused the snow to melt. Her head lent against the side of the structure. How long had it been since she had last been this… she didn’t know how to describe it. Heavy? Heavy with uncertainty, with weakness, with fear… If she could, she might have heaved another round of unpleasantness, but as it was, she could produce nothing more, much like the tears she could not longer cry.
People go missing, people die, and they never return. What did it matter that a few more than usual had suffered from this fact? Nearly a week prior she, a young woman with nothing to call home, family, or friend, had been approached by a frantic wife looking for her husband. Shadow, as she had grown accustomed to thinking of herself, had told the woman, who she had recognized as another of the sneering voices that commonly commented on the trash that flooded the streets, the man she searched for was about as much her concern as a sore on the backside of a wild pig. Further going on to say that curling up with other sows of the pen were just as likely as fleeing from the shrill squeal of his wife. The relationships of the analogies were merely a coincidental likeness of the family. For the remainder of the week, she sported a rather predominate hand print on her left cheek.
Needless to say, Shadow had no desire to take part in their searches for these missing townsfolk. Unfortunately, the cold was leaving her further and further into the depth of desperation and opportunity presented itself with a pair of new comers to the small snow covered town. The two, judging by appearance, were soldiers lost from the wars that struck the borders. Whoever they were, their collection of trinkets were sure to include a bit of money she could use to get through the rest of the winter and normally the searches lasted an entire day away from the watchful eyes of the rest of the population, plenty of chances to snatch something she could use.
The idea wrenched at her nerves. She had never resulted to such awful tactics. Nevertheless, she had followed them on this particular day, ever watchful from a safe distance. Her clothes, mismatched and stitched haphazardly with whatever fabrics she could collect, blended well with the failing light and the course tree line. The group searched for hours. They did not break. It looked as if her chance would never come. Somewhere inside she was relieved. Eventually, they headed up toward the summit of Mount Feirn. She had planned on turning back. She should have turned back.
Shadow shook her head, still leaning it against the side of the communal building. She couldn’t really remember what she saw. She only remembered a feeling of chance. Remembered her body lurched forward to the fallen group, ready to take advantage of the moment, or was it due to concern? She had felt compelled to find out what happened. Find out if they still breathed life. Why? Her breathing caught in her throat at the uncertainty, even now, at what she would have done if what followed hadn’t torn her from this world.
No sooner had she taken off when her body stopped and she had fallen to her knees. Her body trembled. No, it wasn’t her body, it was the earth, a rumbling that shook the very sky above her, growing louder and fiercer. The crushing sound broke her heart. The vascular muscle had been crushed, shattered, and ripped from the spot it rested beneath her ribs. Her hands rose, unable to feel the rush of the beats she expected to feel. Her chest heaved in panic, unable to feel the precious organ beat within her.
Her rags were shed, like a second skin, like a snake or lizard or… Her hands dropped from the empty place in her chest and planted into the cold snow. She felt so heavy. Her body couldn’t breathe, it couldn’t function without its lead. Her eyes widened. Scales, shimmering emeralds scattered in small clustered periodically on the back of her hands, up her arms, across her chest, abdomen, back, thighs and calves. Terror filled her. Her lungs were failing. Her insides burned. She couldn’t inhale. She couldn’t exhale.
Without source, spears shot up around frightened girl from the ground, pure white, white as bone, larger than her body. They grew. Five. She wanted scream. Her mouth opened wide, wide with unmistakable fear as she rose from the cold snow. Scales covered the ground, the ground attached itself to the spears that collapsed down on top of her. It grew dark, from the mighty daggers as they blocked out what failing light the moon brought, by the death of her body. She could not survive without her missing heart. Blackness surrounded her thoughts.
Claws. A flicker of light ignited the darkness of her memories. They were claws. Shadow’s mind was swimming. She tried to push back the recollection, but it wouldn’t allow her. It rose to the front of her mind against her will, as if demanding her to understand the meaning behind it.
Flames had engulfed her following the darkness. They stuck to her, a metal melting liquid mucus of magma that swelled up her body and poured itself down the back of her throat. It seared her mouth, bubbled and tore the flesh away. It swam between her lungs as though alive. Her lungs, that already felt as though they were on fire, crumbled to ash. She sputtered. Ash, blood, and magma hurled from her insides. Harder she heaved, breaking apart all that was left of her fragile being. She was being torn apart.
Another fit of coughing caught Shadow as she recalled the event. She was sure there was more, but she couldn’t handle thinking about it. When she had awoken, or reclaimed her sanity, the group had disappeared and she had rushed back to the village as fast as her shaken emotions would allow her. If they had been as weary as she, they would not have noticed her. She couldn’t even be sure that she was even among the living. She didn’t understand what had happened. She didn’t know what had happened to the group. She didn’t know what brought her to the center of Orsin Vear, but when she heard the voice of one of the soldiers, she began to tremble once more as she listened. It seemed she was not the only one to have suffered something unexplainable.
Her hand came to her heart. It beat wildly with adrenaline. This calmed her, as oddly as it was, until another flood of the visions memories rushed her.
Another crushing blast of the heavens and earth, a thunderclap of both worlds produced a gem. The gem was harshly cut, battered, cracked and scarred but a brilliant shade of the purest of goldenrod, save for a corner, a corner of emerald green the stretched its essence across the cracks. The more it reached, engulfing the glow of yellow, the less the gem seemed to be course and jagged. It smoothed over the cracks, removed the scars, and finally rose a green flame when the last bit of the once yellow gem disappeared. In a flash it turned back and the largest pair of jaws she could never imagine clamped around her. The memory ended much the same as how she first experienced it. She felt death had claimed her, and a rebirth had emerged from the ashes of her existence.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 30, 2011 1:38 pm
EDIT
Grundus was tired from what had happened on the mountain. He rested in a large chair. He rubbed his hands through his beard, he still had a contract to finish. He felt strange, his head was spinning and his hands hurt. "How is my wife, did she experience what I did?" he whispered to himself.
He looked around for someone who did not go on the expedition, he couldn't see very well. He could hear murmuring but he tried to ignore the noise.
Heart pounding he looked at his scar-ridden hands, they were sweating as if he'd just taken off his gloves after a long day of working. WHY? Why am I so anxious? Why do I feel scared? Grundus asked himself inside. he glanced about the room again, seeing clearly Darius, one of the men who went up with them, he wasn't part of the village men though.
Suddenly he saw the vision again, playing back over his eyes like shadow puppets. The lights, the strange shapes that things had turned to, the weight of gravity pulled down on Grundus again. It stopped, he came back to reality, his brow in a sweat. His hands started to ache again, this time it was the scars. "To-morrow, the weather will be wet," he whispered to himself again, "Jornida won't be able to do gardening." He let his head fall forward, his eyes swelled with tears for no reason. The scars ached more and more.
"Does anyone have a wrap for my hands?!" He called out to every one in the room, hoping that some one did, his iron bending, steel forging hands felt like they were aflame.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
