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 Posted: Mon Oct 23, 2006 7:39 am
 The world of Sepin is dead and its very ruler is the cause. After acquiring the unspeakable power to steal the life of others and shape it to his will, Lord Fabren rose armies of nightmares and eventually forced the population of Sepin under his rulership. For centuries he has sapped the life of his people, allowing them to exist only for the harvest of the following generations. After a millennia, the Sepin people had lost all of their thoughts and feelings, even their will to live. Fabren had stolen every drop of their life energies, finally eradicating the people of the world.
His gluttony for life and power endless, Fabren began to absorb the energies of the world itself, bringing it to the brink of absolute destruction.
Realising his world's end, Fabren sought other planes and dimensions to assert his control over. Using his wealth of stolen life energy and his control of the void, Fabren tore holes in reality and flooded the world of Lucor with armies of his demon spawn, repeating the tragedies of Sepin again.
With this new found knowledge and ability to traverse space, Fabren set his sights beyond a single world and its people and began rending the fabric of reality. Hundreds of worlds became connected and his horrors spread. People began to appear on Lucor from other worlds only to fall to Fabren's hunger. The strongest were being hunted down and taken not only for their own life force, but also that there would be no one to defend against the imminent domination of all.
**************************
Fabren placed his boot on the great stone tablet, reared back and kicked with all of his might. The entrance to the tomb shook, but held firm. He gritted his teeth and kicked again, and again. On the fourth kick, the tablet blocking his way burst inward easier than Fabren had expected and he tumbled through the opening and down a flight of stairs, landing flat on his face.
He brushed a great deal of dirt from his clothes and groped for his torch. After soaking it again in oil and reigniting it, Fabren looked about his surroundings. The chamber was small, barely larger than ten arm lengths long and five across. The only feature in the room was a stone out cropping by the far wall, just large enough to hold a body.
Fabren walked towards the stone coffin, trailing dust with him and ever more cautious than before. The walls looked horrifically unstable, even more brittle and desiccated material than that of the rest of the subterranean tomb. He swallowed and focused on the stone covering. They were the only carvings he had seen in the entire burial cave and he almost leapt for joy when he recognized the inscription. It was a very early form of Talbin, an ancient written language. Here it was, in a tomb that must have been thousands of years older than any other piece script, poorly carved in the insecure looking stone. He gently set his torch on the covering and pulled a piece of parchment and wax from his pack, and began to softly make a rubbing that would redefine history and confirm his theories of the past.
He rolled the parchment and stowed it in his pack, gazing at the coffin covering. If the tomb was as old as he thought, Fabren had not only proven that the Talbin people were much older than previously thought, but that they were in fact the first people to formally bury their dead. He grabbed both edges of the covering and heaved, dragging it to the side and revealing not a dead king, but dust.
Fabren blinked. No matter how old the tomb was, the body inside could not have possibly decomposed to dust. He brushed at the pile of powder with his hands and uncovered a leather bound book.
"Knowledge grants power," Fabren read softly from the cover, "Power leads Corruption, Corruption demands Life." Then he opened the tome...
~Story concepts and writing provided, are the creations of Soviet Snowball~
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2006 4:15 pm
~The desert night within Sevadia was permeated with an icy silence. No wind races across the sandy dunes, nor was there a living thing to be seen for what appeared to be miles. But there are always things at work that they eyes alone can not fathom...
No more than a dozen Iliriya warriors had formed an outwards facing circle, Issildia standing among their ranks, a maneuver designed for defense...something that the Iliriya favored in the least. They often prided themselves in always being the hunters...never the hunted; but this night was different as they had foolishly stumbled into a small enemy encampment of fleeing Infinitus. The Iliriya had been tracking the deserter Infinitus since the most recent battle in Natori and had only picked up their trail a few hours prior. But it seemed that they had been to late to predict what would that actions would bring upon them.
At the outer edges of the dark, where the fleeting starlight faded to shadow they could sense the enemy deserters. They were frightened from what Issildia could tell, as they slowly surrounded the small group of Iliriya, their breath coming out in nervous gasps as they waited for a chance to strike.
"We are outnumbered Issildia..." whispered Kyrion as he glanced over at Issildia. "Thirty against eleven by my count." he added as he continued to watch the shadows.
"I know..." she answered flatly before a slight smirk came to her lips. "It hardly seems fair."
Suddenly as her icy blue eyes took on a sliver hue, the shadows that hid the Infinitus shrank back...pale shafts of ivory moonlight lancing out of the clouds above to illuminate what was soon to be a battle field.
As this transpired Issildia shifted her weight slightly before she bolted forward, her form seeming to disappear for the briefest instant before reappearing at an enemy swordsman to cleanly run her blade through his sternum.
Upon her attack the Iliriya had taken the cue and followed in kind to directly attack the enemy.
"Finish them!" Issildia said as her blade found it's home in one of the soldier's thigh. Ripping it upwards she threw him off his feet before driving back down to impale him at the torso. As she withdrew her sword... one who seemed to be the leader of the deserters came up behind her to strike. Under normal circumstances, defeating him would not have been difficult...But Issildia was suddenly froze in mid-step...they air around them wavering as if heat danced through it...but the air remained cool. Suddenly a blinding pain tore through Issildia's entire being to send her to her knees, though this was not a physical attack...no it was something far deadlier.
The Veil...they border between life and death...the force that upheld the natural balance...the very realm that Issildia was made guardian off during her first lifetime...was being torn apart...the energies that guarded it were being leached away causing the Veil to reach for the only power left to guard it.
Time seemed to slow as the deserter leader's blade fell towards her neck like an executioner's ax...the pain continuing to leach away Issildia's strength until it took all she had to remain conscious.
Then as the enemy soldier's blade came in to decapitate her, an arrow suddenly pierced him at the neck. As the soldier fell, Kyrion could be seen behind the deserter leader with a bow in hand. Tossing it aside he bolted forward to try and reach Issildia...the air continuing to waver...almost becoming violent in nature as the battle continued to rage on around them.
Then there was a final shudder within the fabric of reality that horrendously distorted their surroundings. Then as suddenly as it had come the desert snapped back into focus leaving everything as it had been...except one thing.
Kyrion froze in mid-step as he look down at the place where Issildia had fallen...a place that was now vacant, as if she had never been.
"By the gods..." he whispered with dread.~
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2006 11:11 pm
Eric's breathed heavily as he ran through the woods. His lungs burned, his legs ached and he was completely deprived of sleep. They had been running for what had seemed like day and the god-forsaken monsters were still right on his back.
"Eric! Im scared!" said the terrified voice of a little girl.
Josey had locked herself into a closet when her parents had both been fed on by the living dead. Eric had heard the horrible screaming and entered the house planning to put someone out of their misery. Instead, he was running for his life with a young girl in his arms.
"Almost safe..." he panted, faintly hearing the mutilated howls of the damned at he heels.
It was hopeless. They didn't think, they didn't feel, they just want to kill. Their sole purpose was to take what they didn't have and which Eric and Josey were unlucky enough to possess.
Ahead, the woods cut off at a road. Eric darted into the street and quickly looked about. The road was at the edge of a ravine, way too steep to get down quickly and safely. The road wound endlessly into nowhere, leaving Eric few options. Behind them was the death.
Another howl sounded, too close to keep running. Eric set Josey down and brought his shotgun to bare, cocking it and readying himself for a death more painful than he could imagine.
"Josey, cover your ears, sweetie." Eric said, aiming into the woods.
The girl was too tired to even cry. She just whimpered, curling up at Eric's feet.
"Josey, I need you to be brave for me!" He shouted, trying to remain calm.
She nodded meekly.
He spotted four, no, five of them. God, they were still coming! He wouldn't have enough ammo for them all...
Eric glanced down at Josey. No... He couldn't do that. He had killed too many of his friends, he couldn't kill this little girl.
The air on the road began to ripple, almost like a mirage. Eric blinked.
The first of them broke the tree line and Eric fired, blasting the thing to the ground in a fountain of blood. Another jumped through the underbrush and made a mad rush for the two. Again, Eric fired and threw the creature down. Just after it fell, two more took its place.
With no time to reload, Eric dropped the shotgun and mustered what little strength he had to bring his axe against the dead. He cleaved through the skull of one, but the other grabbed a hold of his side and began snapping inches from his face.
"Josey! RUN!"
The world began to blur as more of the creatures burst from the wood and lunged for Eric, tearing at his clothing and scrambling over each other for the fresh meal. They pressed in on him so hard that he couldn't swing the axe. He thrashed wildly, feeling his body being compacted and crushed, threatening to squeeze the life out of him.
Eric screamed as hungry mouths bit into his flesh and began ripping off scraps for their unholy hunger. He clenched his eyes shut and...
...And suddenly it all stopped.
He slowly opened his eyes and gasped.
"I... am in Hell." He said, looking at the desolate landscape. He had died and was now in Hell. All in front of him was flat, barren land, white as chalk. Rolling hills of grey, lifeless earth and swirls of dust caught in the wind.
Eric grunted, clutching his wounds on his arms and side. No, he was alive alright.
"Josey?" He called out, turning to scan to bleak horizon. Absolutely nothing. No zombies, no woods and no Josey. Nothing.
Eric dropped to his knees, letting the axe slip out of his hands and land in the dust. He had failed her. He scooped up a hand full of the dust and slowly let it fall through his fingers and blow off into the chilling wind. Gone. He shook his head and just at the moment before complete and utter resignation, he spotted foot prints. Faint, wind blown and fading foot prints, but foot prints. Small foot prints, the size of a frightened girl all alone in an unfriendly world.
Eric set his jaw and firmly wrapped his fingers around the axe once more. What ever had happened and where ever he was, he still had a purpose, and he was given a second chance to fulfill it. He picked himself off the ground and with grim determination, set off into the wind swept plains.
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2006 7:53 am
Issildia silently drew the cowl of her ebony cloak over her head as she came to stand upon a dusty rise that overlooked the dark land that stretched on for uncounted miles. She had not the slightest idea as to how the dimensional planes had been shifted...but knowing the exact reason as to why this had happened mattered little compared to discovering a way to repair the damage that had been wrought.
The Veil had taken a great deal of damage in the first dimensional shift, a second happening such as this could destroy the only force that separated the realms of Life and Death. Long ago the Ryera necromancers had attempted to do just that...thankfully they had been stopped before the destruction of the Veil was complete.
Grimly Issildia noted the tendrils of frost that had begun to spiral over her sword Nyththirren. It was a warning that she would need to reset the seals within the Veil very soon; for within Nyththirren rested the shards of the Ilithri blade, an item better known as the Denian Key. The Key was the only force that was able to control and maintain the power that the Veil housed and was granted to Issildia when she became that realms keeper.
Kneeling down she continued to ponder over her options, still subconsciously aware that her people were now alone in the Sevadia desert fighting for their lives. The air sparked briefly with electricity before Issildia calmed her anger to return to the matter at hand.
Someone had been the catalyst to this world's destruction, Issildia noted dryly as she stood slowly, the wind catching her cloak and twisting it roughly about.
There were only a scant few glimmers of life that she could sense within this particular realm...logic dictated that one of them would have to be the perpetrator.
Turing slowly, her hand coming to rest on the hilt of her blade Nyththirren, Issildia resigned herself to simply finding the closest source of life that was available. Whether they be friend or foe...was now in fate's hands.
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2006 3:53 pm
Kari was seated comfortably in her room when behind her, a strange hole had appeared, she turned around, and saw it growing toward her. "What is going on??!" she reached into the hole, it was so cold it stung....."EVERYONE OUT!!!!" she screamed, as she was engulfed in the icy darkness................
It was as though she was falling...but there was no time, and foreign symbols swirled around Kari.........she screamed, but there was no one to listen. The farther she dropped, the more her ears became pointed. Finally she saw a faint light, and she fell to the ground. She grasped her side, and leaned over a small puddle, the only thing in site for miles around. Glancing at her appearance, she noticed not only did her ears become more elvish, her whole face did...
She stood up looking for a hint about what happened, the bleak landcape gave no information. She was in a world that was not her own.
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2006 5:44 pm
Ki'rem peered over the dune at the black cloaked figure, almost too terrified to move. Over the past two moons, Ki'rem and his family had hidden from Daemon's wraiths. A week ago the patrols had stopped and it looked as if they might be spared the Culling, but now he was facing certain doom.
He thought the cloaked figure saw him and he dropped back behind the dune, closing his and readying himself for death.
After a moment, Ki'rem realized he still lived. The figure either had not located him, or it was not an agent of Daemon. The later made no sense, but then the wind had not blown warm in a very long time.
He swallowed heavily and then glanced back over the dune. The figure seemed to be orienting itself, giving Ki'rem a little more time to think.
If it was a wraith, then returning to his family would be the worse possibility. The wraith would follow him and they would all be lost. If not, then he could not expect anything. Either way, he would face it alone and be the only to die.
He stole a breath and stood, descending the dune to face his fears, which, ironically, was also his savior.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fabren dragged his hand across the stone pedestal, feeling whispers of energy flow through the plane. The process of merging the plane with a multitude of other had exhausted him but by laying the frame work for expansion, he was promised endless prosperity. The beings that were crossing were not chosen by his own hand, but by themselves. Their flames burned the brightest, and just like the pristine rose, they were the first to be harvested. They had the most life energies of any other from their worlds and despite their crossing; they held a line to their homes. The irony was not lost on him that by being the most prime to defend their world; they were providing the very means to invade it.
He smiled and pressed his hand into the stone as though it were insubstantial. The pedestal flickered and fell apart into a rain of dust, drained of its essence.
Daemon Fabren smiled and shook the dust off of his hand. He drank in the energy like what it was, Life.
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Posted: Mon Oct 30, 2006 4:45 am
Outside the encampment of the Broken Sword, Chimera could be seen feasting happily on what his newly found friends had called "sushi". Though raw, it was delicous. It lacked no flavor, and better yet it was healthier than the garbage his brother often served him when he was but a child. Thinking about his childhood, or his past in general wasn't as depressing as it had been when he was sacrificed. Nothing was the same since then, but it wasn't something he himself could control. He was a marked man....marked to be fed to their family's god. To feed its insurmountable hunger.
He soon shed the thoughts of his past like a skin would shed its skin; in layers. Upon finishing his meal, he soon peered upon his weapons, stil tattered since he hadn't the chance to repair them after the conflict with the Infinitus in Natori. It was one conflict he would never soon forget. To most, it sounded like drivel, but he was already over 400 years old and yet he still had things to experience. Thanks to the curse of one of his wive's, his savior, he was able to live for as long as he had. If he died, he'd simply rest for a month, and be reborn from the depths of Gaia.
But now a familiar feeling dawned upon him that made his skin crawl, and his nerves shiver. The Frozen Edge had been lying happily beside him, yet that wasn't what had given him this feeling. Yet it still wouldn't leave him, it instead continued to weigh on his conscience. It soon bore down on his patience, and he would have stood up in anger, yet his body wouldn't allow it. An unseen weight bore down on him, his vision seemed distorted somehow, but it didn't feel like his vision was affected at all.
Before he could consider any further options he was gone in an instant, and where he once sat, dining peacefully it seemed as though he didn't exist at all....
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Posted: Mon Oct 30, 2006 10:51 am
Issildia stood still as she heard the light footsteps of someone or something approaching from behind. Calmly she drew her blade with a slight flourish, the chilling frost that ran it's length began to creep over her fingers as her hand took hold of the hilt, a constant reminder of the peril the Veil was now in.
Issildia waited only a moment more to assure herself that whatever lay in wait was not a threat...probably a mortal, if her intuition was correct.
"Curious that a land such as this still holds true to those few scant threads of life that remain...Though the question remains...what are your true intentions?"
As she said this Issildia turned sharply to face the one who approached from behind, her blade held off to her side as an unspoken warning to any that had fell intentions.
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Posted: Tue Oct 31, 2006 8:55 am
Saber look left and right, seeing the Milita and the Vanguard about to hit him from both sides. Neither took any notice of Saber, as if he wasn't even there, but Saber knew he was in trouble. With bother sides charging, he would certainly be killed.
"Another consequence of my indecision. I guess it's the last consequence I'll ever see." Saber thought to himself. He closed his eyes, expecting the pain to hit him any second. A sharp pain did hit him, but it was not the type he had expected. In fact, it was more of a sting than a stab. Then, from where he had felt the sting, the feeling began to expand across his entire body. When the feeling had consumed him, Saber began to fall. But he was confused. He was falling when no air was underneath him. Saber began to open his eyes just as he hit hard rock.
Saber screamed from the pain. He began to pick himself up and looked around. He suddenly realised that this was not where he had been. He couldn't see any Vanguard or Milita. In fact, all he could see was wasteland and a few figures in the distance. He wasn't sure whether he could trust thaem, but then again, he didn't have a choice. In fact, it was probably a good thing that he had no choice in the matter, otherwise he'd be standing there for half an hour. Instead, he began to make his way, uncatiously, towards the figure in the distance...
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Posted: Tue Oct 31, 2006 2:29 pm
Thanacheir was flying through the night sky, heading straight for the Niveus research facility in an attack run. He had gained much information from his various vantage points, the echoes of the patrolling guards' conversations carrying deeper into the labyrinth that was his home excellently.
Suddenly, the air around him appeared to shimmer, to distort somehow. It couldn't be a weapon, he hadn't heard any mention of it, and they didn't even know he'd be attacking tonight, did they? Shrugging off the insecurity, he flew on, until once again reality appeared to lose its shape. This time however, night became day, and the sudden burst of light temporarily blinded the draconic being, sending him crashing into the ground below.
Time passed, and Thanacheir slowly got up again. His left wing hurt like hell, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment: He'd cast a healing spell as soon as he found a place with good cover, before his form would cause panic again. He silently cursed his luck when he noticed two people standing not too far away from him, one with sword drawn.
Eyeing the sword warily, he sent a low growl their way, crouching down into a low stance on all four clawed feet. A whitish fog started to rise from his mouth, a signal that his breath weapon was at the ready. If the Niveus were responsible for moving him to this strange place, he'd make short work of the vampire troops they'd have sent in to finish the job.
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Posted: Thu Nov 02, 2006 5:49 pm
Kari looked from side to side, searching for a sign of life....
"There is no good in just standing around, I suppose..." and she wandered off into the distance, searching for humans....but maybe finding even more than that.
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 3:47 pm
Ki'rem stood stock still. The figure -which had turned out to be a woman- had bared an unusual looking metal rod held at her side and was speaking to him in an almost utterly foreign tongue that he strangely understood. She was dressed in black garments of a design he had never seen before and what appeared to be wings was in truth a robe that only concealed her entire form. He was speechless.
She was human. Despite almost every out of place aspect or the resonating life energies he felt about her, she was just like him. Complete flesh and blood teeming with life.
"You..." Ki'rem managed, trying to grasp who and what this woman was. "You are not a wraith."
It sounded absolutely absurd to state something so obvious, but it truly was all Ki'rem could say. She was the only other living and breathing person he had seen since...
Ki'rem blocked the thought out of his mind and could no longer hold back his tears of joy.
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Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2006 9:50 pm
Risq had been making a speech to her people when the attack struck. It had come from nowhere, her "eyes" hadn't even seen anything. It was an assassination attempt..but not one that could be successful. Not now!
She was about to lead her people into a war that could destroy them all, or it could make them the victors they longed to be. They only needed direction and motivation, both of which she would give without hesistation.
They'd been a repressed race too long, and with her death, that time length would be interminable.
And so she fought against the pain and searched for the source. If her
people noticed the pausae, they would only think it to be normal.
But the pain was slowly overcoming her, overcoming her power.
Risq fought the desperate wish to cry out, to beg for outside help. She couldn't allow her people to fall into the old ways once again...to be those hiding in the corner, waiting for crumbs to fall from the master's table.
Risq fell to the ground, her hands instinctively protecting her face, even if she couldn't see.
Her hair, now grown long, fell around her as she fought still, against reality.
If she only see the source of the attack, she might be able to retaliate, a last parting shot.
In a part of her mind, she wondered if this was how her father had felt at his death. Helplessness and resentment at leaving his people without leadership.
Oh, but he had left someone...he'd left her. She didn't have anyone to leave her people to, and that made it all the worse.
Attentive hands suddenly brushed against her arm, and she could hear voices, asking her if she were all right.
She couldn't see them either.
The barrage of pain grew in intensity, and even the voices faded. Risq's eyelids closed.
Beside the simple podium, the attendee's moved away, going for help, and telling those in the clan to remain calm. Then reality, that stable support, shimmered and as they felt the pulse, the people ducked though it lasted only a second. They looked back to see that Risq had disappeared.
In this desert, this dry land, Risq awoke and stood. She wasn't alive, was she?
This place felt drained, deathly so.
She couldn't find the starlight that fueled her power, nor shadows that whispered shimmering images into her mind.
She was blind.
For the first time since she could remember, Risq stumbled to the ground. Her face struck the ground and the earth felt as dust on her face.
Risq pulled her sword, thinking to use it as a crutch of sorts until she remembered that she in her ceremonial outfit that she'd worn for the rally, she had only a short sword and a couple daggers.
Still, she held it out in front of her, until she stumbled again.
Falling to the ground, Risq cried out in frustration...hurt. Scrambling to her knees, Risq crawled along, using the sword as she'd intended originally.
A moment later, she gave up, realizing that she felt the tracks in the sand she'd made only moments before. She was going in circles, just as a blind person would do until they killed themselves throuh exhaustion.
Falling over, onto her back, Risq screamed up at the sky as she vented her anger and frustration, tasting the dust as it sang in her defeat.
She didn't know where she was going. There was nothing familiar to guide her. She..was..blind.
And then, she noticed it..she wasn't totally blind..she could hear. And she did, in the silence, she heard voices. Distant voices.
As Risq listened, she heard other voices in her mind. Her father, as he trained her, promising her that she would never be blind as long as she let her instintc guide her.
Squeezing the cool metal handle of her sword, Risq braced herself and rollled over into a sitting position...standing from there.
Bending down and picturing her ceremonial clothes in her mind, Risq cut away at it, her sensitive touch guiding the sword until most of the beautiful cloth was lying in a heap at her feet.
Squeezing her eyes tight shut, Risq took a deep breath and willed herself against hesitation as she stepped in the direction that she'd heard the voices. She could hear them now even...though she wasn't exactly sure how far off they were.
In this dead world, she wasn't helpless. Her senses would guide her as eyesight, even without the benefit of the starlight and shadow.
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Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 6:49 pm
"Wraith...?" Issildia muttered; now assuming that the mysterious catalyst who initiated the event that brought her here, had some skill in necromancy.
Memory of the Ryera only sent a deepening sense of dread through her as she anticipated what had caused this chain of events.
"Who are you? What is this place...?" Issildia said in a slightly gentler tone, reluctantly abandoning the chilling demeanor she took on when engaging an enemy.
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 6:57 am
The clansmens eyes flitted open in retaliation to the dry, brisk dust billowing in his nostrils. He let out an irritated huff before lifting himself up onto his hands and knees. Where ever he once was, it was no longer as welcoming as it had been. The sky, and the sparse land before his very eyes echoed death, and emptiness. And though he was too familiar with what death was like, this place left a true feeling of...emptiness. Finally bringing himself to his feet, the remaining prince of his family had found that his effects were still close by covered in the cool grey dust gathered by the wind.
He was thankful that he had not yet recieved new clothes from his clan, or he'd be alot colder right now. His tattered shirt had to be resown again, and he was able to do that before he had enjoyed his meal later in the night. Upon collecting his swords, and cloak did he finally hear voices in the distance, one of them seemingly familiar. It was one that he had heard before in Natori....
"Issildia? What would she be doing here?" he muttered; instinctively drawing his Frozen Edge before making his way in her direction.
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