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  1. - Top - End - #1
    Ettin in the Playground
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    Imladris
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    Default Heroes of the Sagas IC

    You want to hear a story? A story of gods, I take it, of the mightiest heroes and the foulest villains, of both divine capriciousness and mercy unstrained, empires rising and kingdoms falling, love and war and all the good bits. In short, you want one of the finest sagas to ever grace the lips of a storyteller. Well, I believe I can oblige you – hear this.

    On the eastern edge of the world, at the top of the last mountain, there is a house with a door that faces south and a window that faces west. It is not an o'er-large house, for it merely contains a hundred rooms. The master of the house does not sit in the great throne in his hall this morning, looking to the south, nor does he work in his mighty smithy, facing the west. He looks to the north today. He sniffs the air, and tastes the cold wind coming from the north, and half-hears a wolf's howl. His one good eye narrows, and his scarred face tightens.
    Then he begins to sing, hands raised to greet the morning sun. His words are slow, yet powerful – he sings to the four winds, telling them of his power, of his deeds. He is Rognir, he is the All-Father, he is the one who forced the sky to rise and the seas to fall, who drove the wolves away from the sun and moon as they rose in the uttermost north. He is Omi whose voice can be heard from the east to the west, he is Oski whose mind can unravel any riddle, he is Fimbultyr, he who slew the mighty A'gap and set the boundaries of the world with its corpse. He is Rognir Hundred-Named, and from him all was.
    And his song ends. He lowers his hands. The sun rises into the aether. And Rognir smiles, for he made it so, when he was young and the world was raw. But now he is old, and the cold seeps into his bones, and his face is cut deep with age. But even in his age he is still mightiest, and you and your siblings stand still in awed silence behind him. This day is different than most – today, you do not train, nor play along the cliff's edge, nor feast in the banquet hall with him. Today, you are no longer children.

    He turns, slowly, his black cloak catching in the wind and fluttering behind him, the braids in his dark hair twisting and turning. He casts his gaze along the line, and no one dares to meet his baleful eye. Then, he speaks, slowly and purposefully. He speaks of his youth, how he ordered the world and fought the mightiest monsters, casting them down and taking their most beautiful as his own. He speaks of his aging, how he built the house at the world's edge and watched as the sun rose and set according to his will. He speaks of his wayward children, those who had already gone out into the world, too impatient to secure their birthright by waiting for his will. He speaks of you, the ones who stayed by his side, and how you had readied yourselves for this day.
    He smiles, but for the slightest moment, and every heart leaps.
    He speaks now of his travels again, and how a permanent place in the world must be earned through sacrifice and strife, for nothing in his world is free to the weak and the foolish. He speaks of terrible quests, and trials unnumbered, and how this is your fate. Step back now, he says, and you shall remain a child in the hall for as long as you wish, free from the pain that knowledge brings.
    None step back.
    He speaks now of the rules of the quest – those of his blood are sacrosanct, and to slay them is to invoke his wrath. To fail in the quest is to die, your full heritage locked away from you. You shall not earn your divinity through another's actions, and no other shall claim your deeds. He waves a hand, his voice filled with power as it echoes across the last mountain, and banishes you from his hall. You fall from the last mountain, but you land somewhere different, somewhere where the sun is almost too high to touch, where the air is hotter and the trees are taller. Welcome to the world of man, prince among mortals.

    Your destiny awaits.
    Last edited by Raz_Fox; 2010-04-19 at 06:27 PM.
    freedom in the flame

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    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
    Quote Originally Posted by BladeofObliviom View Post
    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dervag View Post
    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  2. - Top - End - #2
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    BardGuy

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    Apr 2008

    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Alarin

    "Last to be born, and first into the world. Tis but my luck. No more shall I hear father calling to the sun to rise as he did each morning, for I must seek my own divine purpose. It is my quest, and one I must see through to the end. But not all is amiss; I still have my lute, do I not? And I shall get to see humans, in the flesh for the first time. What an occasion it shall be," Sang Alarin, each word carefully choosen for their full effect and melody.

    The forest surrounded him, and the sky was almost hidden from the demi-god. Only the sun's strong rays pierced the foliage. A sweet smell hung in the air as ALarin took in his enviroment, laying in the tall grass of the woods. His spirit high, and voice sweet, Alarin picked himself of the ground and began to play a song, a song of adventure
    Last edited by Baxter190; 2010-04-19 at 07:11 PM.
    Founder of the Playgound Misfits, The Imperial Guard Reigment in the Playground
    Commisar Baxter, Local Morale Officer, of the Playground Misfits


  3. - Top - End - #3
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Planetar

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    Abilene, TX
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    Default Death of Garadiel

    Garadiel did not know where he was but he was not afraid to be lost, for perhaps that was what he would always be. He had long desired the feeling of having at last come home, but even in his father's house there had been no rest beyond the removal of his boots from his feet before his legs had begun to itch again, to long to wander, even as his father cautioned patience. Garadiel did not know what he sought but he hoped in this quest he might find the answer.

    Though he knew much of travel, he could not now tell you where he was. He could guess the forest he was in was large, as the grass and brush choked together beneath his knees, and he walked with caution. It was as silent as the dead of night. The silence of the glade, Garadiel knew, was a warning. For no place so alive with tree and bramble ought to have been so dead of sound.

    He stopped when he heard movement from behind him, but when he turned his head he did not see his foe. Garadiel looked again all around him and held his staff firm before him. Garadiel reminded himself of his preparedness and of his semi-divine nature. So he stepped forward a pace before he heard a rustle from the shadows but soon the rustling passed away again. The thick silence came again, as if to unnerve him. But he had longer walked than that, and he spoke into the silence, to calm his nerves.

    "I am Garadiel, son of the All-Father! I do not know if you are man or beast or demon, but know that I am strong enough to defeat you." He raised his staff in both hands. He would need it for the coming battle, he knew. He stepped forward again. He could not here be paralyzed by fear, for that would prove his weakness. The silence rained now and he stepped forward again. Again. Two more paces. Five more paces. Silence still. Now he walked deliberately, unafraid but still watchful. He saw the creature fall from the sky out of the corner of his eye and land behind him. He spun to hit the creature with his staff but it had turned around him and was now beside him.

    Garadiel gave a swift blow to the red furred thing's torso. It pulled back for a moment and then they began to circle one another. If you have seen duelists fight, they often use the same circling method. You push in, they back up, you move to the left and they to the right. It is a predictable form and all that is needed to end the battle, in your favor or your defeat, is a single, decisive attack.

    So it was with Garadiel. The red-furred wolf-thing charged him, it's claws outstretched. For a moment Garadiel tried to block but he soon realized that his block was too high and tried to sweep down. He knocked one paw aside but it did him no good. The thing's claw was sharp and sure and it pressed first into his flesh and then downward, raking out most of his innards in one fell swoop. His kidneys, his heart, his lungs, all were raked out in one feral motion. Garadiel looked down at his chest in shock, before he made a gasping expression and the light went out of his eyes.

    Garadiel, the wanderer, was dead.
    Last edited by White Blade; 2010-04-20 at 10:14 PM.
    Vincent Omnia Veritas
    Bandwagon Leader of the Hinjo Fanclub

  4. - Top - End - #4
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    OldWizardGuy

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    Shen Zhi Shu
    Shen Zhi Shu landed with a thud in a great chamber. The great Palace of Xiang Jian was very old. . . 2,000 years old. In fact, it came from a time of great empires and emperors. Unfortunately, the days of empire were long gone. Gone were the days when Rognir was a little younger. Shen Zhi Shu remembered when his father Pan-Lung, or Rognir as the others knew him, ruled Xiang as the first Emperor. (Just throwing an idea out there) So this is the place.Shen wondered. Suddenly gaurds from every angle had sharpened spears pointed towards Shen.

    "Ah, yes, about this. . . " Not realizing that Shen had fallen into a harem. apparently, King Jian Shan had been busy with. . .(necessary elipses) securing an heir with his concubines when Shen had fallen through the roof. Yes, Father Pan-Lung had a sense of humor.

    "I c-c-can explain myself." Shen Zhi Shu stuttered. "I don't know why I"m here." At that moment, Shen was taken to the courtyard to be executed. Unusual for the time, a bronze guillotine was in the courtyard. Wow! Shen thought they would use an axe. Shen was still trying to explain that he meant no harm, and didn't even come here on purpose, but trying to explain that your father is God did not help much with his case. The insanity defense did not exist in Zhang Guo.

    Gentle Shen Zhi Shu did not destroy the soldiers trying to do him harm, instead, he simply waited for the blade to come down on his neck. The bronze blade shattered into a thousand shards. All stood in awe. The executioners never failed an execution. At first the King Jian Shan thought that Shen was a charlatan, and so he ordered another bronze blade placed in the guillotine. To no avail, he wasted another blade.

    Finally, hours of useless attempted executions later, Shen had had enough. "This is all useless." Shen stated matter of factly. "I am too powerful for you all to destroy, and if I wished your King dead I would have destroyed him hours ago."

    This comical tale of the First Sight of Shen Zhi Shu would be told eternally. However the comical frivolity and tales of humor regarding this would not last long. As Shen Zhi Shu, oblivious to his Quest, learned of the ways of the city known as Xiang Jian. Xiang Jian, the greatest of all cities in Zhang Guo, had tens of thousands of citizens while other cities were tiny in comparison. To make a very long story only long, nearly all of Zhang Guo was jealous.

    Xiang Jian's 4,000 soldiers were outnumbered by the invasion force of 24,000 Zhangese confederates. Shona-Han, the leading invading force out of the thirty invading city states, was most intent on sacking and destroying Xiang Jian. "We will force you to drink the swet of your labors and tase the anguish of your vain efforts." Was the famous loose translation of the threat of Shona-Han's dialect. Shen Zhi Shu had read the threat and knew what it meant. Xiang Jian could not hope to defend against such hopeless odds.

    The Great Palace of Xiang Jian was worn from dozens of battles throughout the centuries, and no one had tried to restore it's security. The King, Jian Shan lived and wasted his time in luxury and wild living instead of attending to affairs of state, and the military had lapsed into near-mediocrity. It was up to Shen Zhi Shu to protect the city. The invading forces during this time of Zhangese history were brutal murderers.

    In fact, not more than a century ago there were fifty Zhangese city states. Now, twenty were wiped out, along with all men, women and children. Zhen Zhi Shu knew this, and he had to stop it. King Jian Shan paced back and forth in the camp. "Will none of you generals tell me how I am supposed to do this!" He angrily snapped. The truth was, the generals were just as incompetent as the King. They were all doomed, or so they thought.

    Shen Zhi Shu had been teaching young pupils. . Liu Zhu, Fung Du Ci, Rong Chu Wen, Mao Zhu, and Zhi Tao in the ways of magic. Magic during this time on Zhangese, or in fact, world history was pathetically weak. . . but Shen Zhi Shu was determined to change that. Liu Zhu, and the others were taught the ways of magic from Shen Zhi Shu, and within a month, the letter had arrived, but already each student had 20 students of their own called The Branded.

    Shen Zhi Shu stood on top of the Great Palace of Xiang Jian, with his golden Staff Of Highest Knowledge visible to the defenders in King Shan's help... The army was now down to 1,000 . . The rest deserted. However, as King Shan's servant, Shen Zhi Shu had been teaching many students a day. . . There were now hundreds of apprentices below in the city, ready to give the invaders a nasty surprise if they made it inside. That wasn't going to happen.

    Suddenly, five commanders of the Shona-Han lead invaders were killed. . . Within hours, these commanders were killed easily by the assassins Liu Zhu, Fung Du Ci, Rong Chu Wen, Mao Zhu and Zhi Tao. Any attempt to capture them only met in death, as invisible sword strikes cut down the Shona Han soldiers. Eventually the assassinations continued after a few hours, and the Shona Han began to panic.

    The Shona Han had no commanders.

    That was just the beginning of Shen Zhi Shu's Quest. He had secured Xiang Jian from the Shona-Han, but he had one more assassination to perform.

    Jian Shan cowered in the dark corner of the dungeon as Shen drew out his sword. "See what your betrayal of Xiang Jian has cost you?" sickening slicing and rending of flesh could be heard somewhere, in an unknown room in the dungeon halls. The screaming would continue for centuries, millenia, and more as King Jian Shan would live in pieces, each portion of his-self never permitted to die for his secret deeds against Xiang Jian.

    One year later, with Shen Zhi Shu as King of Xiang Jian, there were many more of those who came to listen to Shen Zhi Shu teach the people. And although there was peace for a year, Shen Zhi Shu knew that the Oni were coming. Across the sea, Oni lived in another land. Content with tormenting humans of less fortunate realms, they nonetheless came to slay and torture the people of Zhang Guo.

    Immediately, a massive clay army met with the Oni invaders. This time Shen Zhi Shu stalled the real army with a surprise attack with his real army. He could not solve this battle with mere trickery as he did the last. Shen Zhi Shu fought hundreds of Oni with his skill in combat with the Staff of Highest Ceremony. Shen Zhi Shu's spirit strengthened his body, and no blow cut or bruised him.

    Finally, Shen Zhi Shu met the dark king, Michaboshi. "I am the Great Michaboshi, come to feast on the souls of Zhang Gu. Think you can stop me, demi-god... I myself have fought Pan-Lung and killed him." Michaboshi lied. The way Michaboshi taunted with the word "Demi-god" infuriated Shen Zhi Shu. Shen Zhi Shu grabbed Michaboshi's head by pointing his Staff at Michaboshi, and with an invisible force, he tore off Michaboshi's head.

    "I know you bargained with King Shan, that traitor, to conquer Zhang Gu." Shen Zhi Shu accused. "Now, you will die, cut into pieces."

    So it was that Michaboshi, or whoever the Oni was, burned forever in pieces, and still does to this day.
    Last edited by ArlEammon; 2010-04-25 at 02:21 PM.

  5. - Top - End - #5
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    BardGuy

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    Apr 2008

    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    A savage cry rang out through the forest, its intesity such that even the wonderful song that Alarin plated was drowned out. The ferocity was such that all of Alarin's attention was seized in but a moment, and it was all he could think about. His mind set upon it's course, the youth's body followed it the source of the disturbence. The musician struck a chord upon and his lute, and in but an instant a mighty stag appeared before him, summoned by the wonderous sound.

    A moment passed and the demi-god persuaded the creature to guide him towards the sound, in exchange for more music along the way. An agreement reach, Alarin jumped upon the stag and rode him in the direction of the furious exclamation, song filling the air.

    When Alarin arrived, he was greeted with a scene of horror, straight from the macabre tales of Aldric himself. A bloody mess decorated the glen, and a body was fallen in the midst. A bloody trail of canine foot prints lead away, but Alarin was too preoccupied to notice. It was not until several minutes later when Alarin recognized the staff as belonging to Garadiel, and realized what had happened to his brother. It was this moment that an unnatural wail cried through the forest, and the stag and all his kind wept, as if the all the weeping in theworld ould bring back the fallen.
    Founder of the Playgound Misfits, The Imperial Guard Reigment in the Playground
    Commisar Baxter, Local Morale Officer, of the Playground Misfits


  6. - Top - End - #6
    Troll in the Playground
     
    industrious's Avatar

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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Cut out abruptly from his father's home, Pa'am descends with none of his usual mystery or elegance. In fact, landing onto solid ground face-first, and skidding for several yards afterwords was perhaps the second worst moment of the God of Time's existence; The first was, of course, his first meeting with Riora. He still carried the scars.

    But he had a purpose, or at least an idea of what to do next. Somewhere in the world lay the First Gear, which helped govern Time's steady progression. It was merely a start, though; the Gear was useless alone. One must rebuild the Great Clock, the precise and orderly tick of the universe. And as Pa'am gazes at the road ahead of him, his gaze impassive, he knows that his journey has finally begun.
    Last edited by industrious; 2010-04-19 at 09:07 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by DeafnotDumb View Post
    Silly boy. I've played in Industrious's games. They don't murder characters. That means the torture ends.
    Quote Originally Posted by Aevylmar View Post
    It turns out that sometimes? He *does* murder characters.

    The Maze of Madness

    Campaigns:
    Gotham: Year One
    Earth-52(abandoned) OOC
    RotSE II III] OOC2

  7. - Top - End - #7
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    RangerGuy

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    Default Eridi - First Steps

    The morning had been peaceful on the savanna. The predators were filled with a good night's hunt, the rodents were beginning their trek for food, and the birds had just begun the morning song. At least, until something large fell right next to their nest in the tree.

    The birds squawked loudly before fling off. Well, thought Eridi, that was... different. I wonder what he meant, to earn our divinity? Eh, I'm sure I'll figure it out in time. Now, where am I? Noticing his current horizontal status, he quickly righted himself. "My, Father sure did choose quite the grand place to send his son. 'Your quest shall begin in a very large, even more rickety bush high above the ground. Don't worry about your coat, it'll be hotter than my forge down there!'"

    He jumped down from the tree, an act not at all filled with any sort of grace. When he landed, one foot fell on a raised root, denying it a steady hold. He rolled across the ground, landing face-first into a mound of termites. Surely, this was not his day. The bites and stings were more hurtful to his pride than to his body, but they were painful nonetheless. Cursing and clawing at himself, he finally got the last of them off. In a rage, he started to turn on the mound and smash it with his smithing hammer, but as he reached behind his back, he realized all the loops for tools on his belt were empty.

    It really wasn't his day.

    Sitting down, he began to contemplate where he could've lost his tools. He remembered taking them to the meeting, but, after that, it truly was a blur. By where the sun was, it seems he traveled far to the west, but it was so hard to tell this far from it. Sighing, he took off his cloak and began to walk east.
    Last edited by Carden; 2010-04-21 at 02:44 PM.

  8. - Top - End - #8
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    OldWizardGuy

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    Shen Zhi Shu

    "There is still much to do." Shen Zhi Shu muttered to himself. Taking to the air, he flew across the sea. . .In an hour, Shen Zhi Shu landed on an island. The Old Lands of Zipang. These people were known as the native landers of Daimyos. These people had no way to defend against the Oni. All across Zipang, the Oni farmed humans as cattle, and did unspeakable things to them.

    Shen Zhi Shu soared into the Oni Shogun's palace. Guards were immediately killed without a mark on their body, as an invisible being walked throughout the city and massacred two thousand Oni, liberating the humans who were being farmed and harvested. Worthless weapons tried to fight back, but the energies from Shen Zhi Shu's spells drained Onis of their souls, conjuring holes in the sky where they linger, imprisoned in constant thunder storms, eternally electrocuding.

    Finally, as the Pheonix(His title), Shen Zhi Shu caused the Oni Palace to explode. Finally, Shen Zhi Shu raised his hands, and a great storm raged across all of Zipang. The storm would target the Oni and destroy any that the clouds could see. This is why that, to this day, the Oni live under the sea, the earth, or anywhere other than Zipang proper. The clouds might see them.
    Last edited by ArlEammon; 2010-04-20 at 10:33 AM.

  9. - Top - End - #9
    Ogre in the Playground
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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    The tales will tell of how Riora first came and stepped on the Earth. It was a large island, in the deep south. The Inhabitants, human slaves and their Giant masters mostly, stared in awe as the fiery missile flew over their village and smashed onto the opposite end of the island. Shamans and mystics muttered over the portents.

    To Riora, the event was less mystical. She hit a tree, and ploughed right through it. She impacted into the ground at bone shattering force. For minutes she lay, breathing heavily, before she sat up. Around her was a crater, and the jungle itself was smoking slightly.

    Riora stood, and brushed at her almost naked frame "Oh haha" she muttered to herself "Very funny"

    For a time she sat, simply looking the jungle, recuperating. Then, she stood up and marched into the green undergrowth. She walked for a time, playing with a snake here, or eliminating a tree from her path. Suddenly, with her godlike hearing, she made out the crack of a whip. She arched an ebony eyebrow and sprinted towards the sound. She halted at the edge of the trees.

    In the clearing was a field, filled with plant-life and the poor miserable wretches farming it. She pondered their actions before the whip drew her attention again. She looked and frowned at what she saw. A man, taller than any of the workers, taller than her stood by the field. He was massive, at least 12' feet tall, and muscled. A cruel black whip was curling and uncurling around his arm.

    She looked past him and saw the village. Stone houses surrounded by pens and shacks. In the center of the village was what appeared to be a temple or ziggurat. It was all very ordered.

    Riora grinned, she would change THAT.
    Last edited by Greystone; 2010-04-19 at 09:17 PM.
    She's Shona Han. Disappearing for a hundred years just means she's had a hundred years to plan. Trying to find out what happened to her is just going to draw her attention.

    Then it's a good thing Greystone can KICK REASON TO THE CURB AND GO BEYOND THE IMPOSSIBLE!
    - SurlySeraph

  10. - Top - End - #10
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    OldWizardGuy

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    The people of Zipang were now free of the Oni. But they were in dire straits. Many people were dead, and there were only a few thousand Zipang left throughout the entire island. Meanwhile, Shen Zhi Shu still did not know his mission. Nevertheless he felt compassion for these poor souls. He could not let them starve. Nor could he just leave without giving them some way to defend themselves against other enemies.

    Himiko, a beautiful young girl, came to Shen Zhi Shu begging for bread, the night after Shen Zhi Shu freed the people from the Oni.
    "Lord Shen, I have not eaten for a week. Please help me..." At first Shen was going to help little Himiko, but then, Himiko clutched her stomach, and fell unconcious. At the verge of death, Shen brought her back with powerful magic. He did feed her, but he would feed her mind as well as her body. He thought "Surely Himiko needs to never starve again." And so, Himiko went with Shen Zhi Shu, back to Xiang Jian.

    Shen Zhi Shu taught Himiko how to balance her chi energy; the energies of the Yin and the Yang, and other magics for twelve days.

    Because Shen Zhi Shu gave her so much wisdom in the arts of magic. She grew up in only 12 days. Himiko was honored to have such a great teacher. But the enchantment would not end there. As Himiko and Shen Zhi Shu talked, the more Shen Zhi Shu realized that perhaps his mission was not in liberating innocents from evil through conquest. Not even through magic. He needed to teach them to defend themselves, even the Zhang.

    Shen Zhi Shu spent the next year building a great school, called The House Of Many Sages. The Branded went throughout all of Zhang and Zipang, teaching them the ways of magic, and Shen Zhi Shu's technique of manipulating Chi within the Yin and Yang. One day the people would be so enriched with teaching that they would have more knowledge than they could contain. This was what finally made Shen Zhi Shu, happy. Perhaps this was his quest? He wondered.

  11. - Top - End - #11
    Troll in the Playground
     
    industrious's Avatar

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    Pa'am walked along the winding road for twenty minutes, conscious of every passing second. The problem with the First Gear was that alone, it was nothing. The sound of one hand clapping is silence; the purpose of a single solitary gear is purposelessness.

    The barbarian tribe who lived in the region attempted to remove the demigod from his possessions. Used to the ways of violence, used to the savage chaos of battle, they were stunned to find that Pa'am was immune to their blows, shielded as he was, one microsecond outside of their time. As their blows fell to no avail, Pa'am asked a simple question: Who amongst you is in charge? The tallest, most muscular of the group declared himself to be the chief, due to his prowess and skill with an axe.

    Pa'am then stepped forward, and touched the barbarian chief upon the head, instantly aging him dozens of years. Now old and wrinkled with age, his hair white and back stooped, the chief was immediately set upon by the others, until a new chief, nearly as strong as the first was selected. Then Pa'am touched him as well, and age laid its premature claim on the man. This continued until, sensing that the god would do so to every leader, begged for forgiveness.

    Pa'am had none to give, but offered in forgiveness's place a small amount of wisdom.

    See that your strength will fail, your muscles will grow infirm. Know this to be true of all things. Realize that power must be supported by something other than physical strength, and see your society grow. There must be a law.

    Thus was the First Order of the Clock-keepers founded. As Pa'am continued on his journey, the tribe that had once ravaged and pillaged now sat down, and discussed amongst each other, what they had learned.
    Quote Originally Posted by DeafnotDumb View Post
    Silly boy. I've played in Industrious's games. They don't murder characters. That means the torture ends.
    Quote Originally Posted by Aevylmar View Post
    It turns out that sometimes? He *does* murder characters.

    The Maze of Madness

    Campaigns:
    Gotham: Year One
    Earth-52(abandoned) OOC
    RotSE II III] OOC2

  12. - Top - End - #12
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Nefarion Xid's Avatar

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    Aldric and Calantha: Scrubland (Somewhere)

    Aldric had the foresight to grab his precious sister about the shoulders an instant before their father whisked them away to... wherever this was. Tightly embraced, the two "landed" together in a cloud of rapidly dispersing smokey shadow-stuff. Whether the two arriving together was the result of Aldric's quick thinking or just an act of providence would probably never know. Though pleased with himself, he thought his father's soft spot for sweet Calantha was what allowed them to stay together.

    He slipped his arms free of her and stepped back to blink loathing at the bright midday sun. With a spin, he surveys the scrubby clearing they've come to, then locks his eyes back on his sister. "Still with us, Callie?"
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2010-04-19 at 11:29 PM.
    I apologize for drawing CockroachTeaParty as a winged centaur.

  13. - Top - End - #13
    Barbarian in the Playground
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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Calantha and Aldric

    "Oof!" The petite girl made a sound of surprise, as Aldric's arms wound around her and they were transported...somewhere...she'd been caught up in her father's stories, in the timbre and cadence of his voice, and when he'd spoken of banishment she'd thought it figurative, not literal. Blinking in the bright light, large violet eyes gazed up at her brother from underneath long lashes. Her face was pixieish, with a pointed chin and full cheeks; currently, those cheeks were stretched wide in a delighted grin. She didn't know where they were, but that didn't matter...she hadn't been out in the wide world of mortals since she was very very little.

    "It's beautiful, isn't it...? Look around you! Everything is different...I wonder what happened to the others? I wonder if they're together or not? Perhaps Father only left us together because of our relationship..."

    The young woman grinned again, and ran off; she didn't know where she was going, but she felt pulled, sure and swift as a northern wind, and her feet were as light as her heart.

  14. - Top - End - #14
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Nefarion Xid's Avatar

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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Aldric, dashing after...

    "It's bright isn't it? Was the world always this bright? Gaaah, things were more muted back home. Am I wrong?"

    Maybe it was because he was strictly a nocturnal creature and couldn't possibly be dragged out of his windowless room until dinner time; not unless Raia desperately needed a sparring partner of comparable skill or Calantha absolutely insisted on showing him something cute of fascinating. His pupils drew down to pin points as he blinked vacantly at the clear sky, slack jawed with his little fangs exposed.

    "Rognir loves you more than the others. He wouldn't really want you to be separated from your big brother, would he? I'm probably here to protect you... ah!"

    His gloved hand poked and prodded into the thin air before grasping at something invisible. With a yank and a burst of whorling shadows he triumphantly produced his scythe from the nether space where it had been hiding. He gave it an experimental one handed slash and the air responded with a satisfactory pained moan. A single fang sunk down into his bottom lip in a twisted sort of smile.

    "Ha! At least he let us keep our toys, right? We're gonna need this..."

    The scythe (apparently designed for someone 9 feet tall) came to rest on his shoulder and he maintained his impish grin. It quickly melted into mild confusion and annoyance.

    "... where are we anyway?"
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2010-04-20 at 01:50 AM.
    I apologize for drawing CockroachTeaParty as a winged centaur.

  15. - Top - End - #15
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Jair Barik's Avatar

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    Nara stepped his way through bush and thicket a mighty stone axe strapped across his back whose shaft was the length of a mortal mans height and whose head had in the past cloven the very earth itself in twain, a gift from father. He had come here to prove his worth and claim his rightful place amongst the Gods through actions rivalling those of Fimbultyr himself. Of course there was no longer an A'gap to slay. However he had in mind a hunt that would truly impress his father. His father had heard wolves howling in the North, he would slay the beasts.

    Trailing behind him was Tiera, his one love, carrying with her a quiver of arrows for Nara to use in his bow, which for the time being was strapped across his back. She was a mortal but then so was his mother. The all father had taken human lovers so the precedent was set.

    "You are sure the beast you seek passed this way?" she asked, climbing over a recently felled tree.

    "Positive, this wolf seems likely their leader. It has no respect for the plants of the forest and is far greater in size than a normal one of its ilk, it has no subtlety or cunning and its passage is easy to see. If I am to impress father then this is the wolf I am to kill."

    "But what of the danger? You are strong sire but if you are wounded-"

    "Sire?" Nara smiled. "What sort of name is this? You will call me Nara my dear and nothing else, I would have it no other way. Do not worry so much, the beast seems strong but it has no divinity to it, I will protect you, this I promise."

    The day wore on and as the red light of the setting sun shone through the trees Nara and Tiera came to a mighty chasm in the forest where far below a great river flowed. Looking to his left Nara saw mighty falls where the river flowed down from and, at the head of the falls, a great red shape, a creature covered head to toe in fur, far greater in size than a bear but shaped akin to a wolf, the beast sat at the top of the falls drinking from the river. Notching an arrow into his bow Nara fired at the creature striking it completely by surprise with a great shaft of wood in one of its fore legs. The beast spotted nara and undeterred by its injury broke into a run towards him. Notching a second arrow Nara shot at the beast again, but this time it nimbly dodged aside and the arrow thundred into the earth at its feet. Nara was shocked by how fast the beast approached and threw down his bow, drawing his axe he cut through the beasts belly as it leaped upon him but though the cut was deep the monster snhapped his axe in two with its claws and through it over the falls. The monster lunged once more and soon both Nara and his prey were locked together in a desperate struggle for life. The beast brought its fangs down upon the Godlings flesh and he roared out in pain. Blood gushed from his wound but he fought on crushing one of its paws against the earth. As the beast reeled from the pain of its own wound nara grabbed its top jaw in his right hand and its lower jaw in his left and began pulling the two apart. The teeth dug deep into his flesh but he ignored the pain and, after a minute, the beasts head snapped in two, teeth fell from its jaw and its body went limp. Nara pushed the beast off of him and it fell backwards, spiraling into the chasm and crashing into the waves below.

    Nara smiled and brought medicinal herbs from his bag to tend to his wounds. "I told you no beast could best me in combat my dear."

    Tiera knew better than to try and help Nara. Nobody knew the herbs of the forest better than he and all she would do was get in his way, but taking a length of golden thread she made a necklace of the beasts teeth and claws that had been knocked from it in the fight. Hanging it round Naras neck she whispered "A reminder my dear, of your victory here today."
    Nara smiled and, his wounds bound, the two rested for the night.
    Last edited by Jair Barik; 2010-04-20 at 11:11 AM.

    He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
    — Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil


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  16. - Top - End - #16
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Kasanip's Avatar

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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Raia


    Gentle darkness and perfect quietness was shattered into waking with a flash of light and a rumbling shudder.
    The young black-haired goddess opened her eyes, and saw first the sky above, dark and dreadful- threatening with what she knew firstly to be rain. She was laying in a field of grass, surrounded by hills, and in the distance lay a forest that was great and sweeping.
    But out here she was alone. There was no longer the voice of her father, nor could she see the footsteps of her brothers, or hear the laughter of her sisters.
    She was alone here.
    Alone, in a world that was strange, new, and different. And that loneliness left her with an emptiness that she had never known before.

    And yet, the rumble and light that played across the sky first was in contention with her. It was with her, and so she embraced it's competition and desire. It's ominousness and threatening pose. She was not afraid of such a thing, for it was no danger like her father's weapon, and it was not as bright as his shining countenance.
    And yet, these memories were old. Dearly treasured...but she had been banished. No longer was this young maiden merely a child in his halls, and indeed the shining steel toys that her father had entrusted to her were gone. She could not hold such a childish thing any longer, and she had no such desire now.

    For now, her desire was in contention with this force. To acknowledge her challenger, and force his submission. She was not alone now. The thunder and lightning itself played and formed, and under her gaze she challenged it, issuing her own silent threats in an opposition to it's loud cries.

    And relenting, the storm poured out it's fury upon her- biting rain and hail, terrible winds and snow. The lightning crackled and flashed, but each time she rebuked it and wrestled with it. And for the maiden, it was no easy task. The thunder was rumbling and slow, and no challenge to ensnare and pin, but the bolts of blue and white were wily and slippery- never staying long within her grasp as she chased and bounded after it, even as the agile light wheeled about time and time again.

    And at last she cornered it upon the earth, chasing it's descent from the sky in an arcing bolt. And there at last upon the soil, she finally surrounded lightning, and so it submitted to her.
    Honoring their battle, she bowed her head in respect and admiration, and spoke earnest words to the sound and light. And their spirit was mollified and abated, and they swore their oaths to her and agreed to follow her and heed her then after. From then she was known as Raia, for ever after closest to her identity is lightning and thunder, and for so long has it been such that they are as one in the same.

    Victorious in her struggle, Raia rose to the clouds themselves and forced her entry. What she found within was surprising and inauspicious, for imprisoned within the clouds were many beings not too unlike the humans she had seen before, and yet they were of fierce countenance and demeanor, though they drew back before her. Void of physical form, only their souls remained here, trapped.

    "Speak of yourselves. Your name and the reason you abide in such a domain."
    Raia commanded of them. Huddled together before her gaze and the crackling lightning, and booming thunder, the Oni spirits spoke.
    "We are of the land of Zipang, risen there and born from the stone and earth. Long ago we lived in peace, but invaders came to our land from the west- invaders who bear a form not unlike your own. Humans as they are, took our lands for themselves without thought or respect, and alienated we were left in the darkness and cold to starve with no thought of mercy. At last we could stand it no more, and so we used our claws and weapons to fight back and attacked the invaders. Being of weak and sniveling constitution, they were scattered and broken. Our leader ambitiously thought to bring this war to the west, to strike at the lands from which they had come originally.

    Perhaps we were too bloodthirsty and focused on revenge, for the master of those lands came and rebuked us strongly- and now forever we have been broken and divided. Leaderless and scattered to the winds. Those of us who could not escape the watchful gaze of the clouds now were imprisoned and tortured until you have freed us at last. And for that deed we will swear our loyalty and obedience to you, our Princess and leader."


    Making obedience, the Oni averted their eyes and humbled themselves before Raia, even as the maiden thought and pondering strongly on their words. Truly the act must have been committed by one of her brothers. A hopeful and yet heinous event, rashly partaken. That too however, is war unfortunately. Raia bid the Oni rise, and swiftly gained account of their number and name, and the Oni were numbered two hundred and fifty five exactly.

    "I accept your oaths and bind you too them." Raia responded, and descending from the sky with lightning and thunder, she arrayed them before her on the earth. Such creatures, made not for the realm of the sky, gained strength and renewed vitality when they set foot again on the earth, and they cried out with loud voices praising her name and character. And Raia bound them to their oath, and set each of them in the meditation position that her father had taught her so long before. After anointing each with the red half circle sun of dawn drawn from the blood of her finger, she stood before them again.

    "I will give you new form and purpose here, and forever that your loyalty and honor holds true, I will grace you with my blessing. However, you are bound from revengeful purpose and shall not harbor desirous thoughts of reclaiming your world of old. The outcome of your war was defeat, and the consequences are clear."
    Raia's expression changed however as she shifted before them.

    "However...Because you have tasted defeat. Because you know despair. Because you understand both the excitement of victory and the pain and horror of loss, I will use you. This knowledge and wisdom of yours will be your guide, and you will be responsible in the future of influencing those who stand upon the edge of such a knife. Victory and defeat. Know me! I am Raia, and I bring only victory for those who stand with me, and for you I will bring war and battle forever that I may, so that your usefulness is eternal.
    This mountain forever forth shall be known as Aptokim- the Mountain of Thunder and Lightning. Here is your birthplace, for though you were risen in Zipang far to the East, your oaths to me began here, and so take from this a new beginning and a new life."


    And with lightning and thunder in her hands, Raia took the Oni's souls began to shape them and change them until they looked as human kind. Like Raia, they had black hair, though their eyes were piercing in the shades of blue, a mark of the lightning they had endured for so long in misery. Tall and quiet, the only other defining feature that separated them from the humans were the pointed nature of their ears, and the terrifying strength they could wield. Yet this was only the physical appearance as they walked upon the earth.

    "You no longer are the 'Oni' of the East, but now will be known as Tumi. I will train you to be beyond any others in the skills of war and battle, and you will be come great masters and spirits alike. But your mastery is also your doom. Never will you use your power and skill for your own gain, but only ever in service to another."

    And so the Oni who became Tumi bowed to her and hailed her greatness, and arrayed themselves in a tribe atop Aptokim, the mountain of thunder and lightning. Under Raia's guidance, they mastered their supernatural strength, and their numbers slowly increased.

    Seeing this and their development, Raia nodded, and turned her gaze Eastward. This land they had spoke of brought her interest. Where there was conflict brewing...there would be war.
    Last edited by Kasanip; 2010-04-21 at 11:15 PM.
    Kasanip's Sketchbook 2 Thread
    It is difficult to speak English, please excuse mistakes kindly m(_ _)m

  17. - Top - End - #17
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Planetar

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    Default Entry into the Grey Wastes

    Garadiel woke slowly. His form came flickering into this strange new realm, where he was a phantom still. Then a new kind of flesh and bone began to arrive, imprinting itself upon the image his soul provided. It was a slow process, with crackling and hissing going out from his arriving soul. At last, his eyes were functional and he looked about him to see the land of the dead.

    It looked like a luminescent gray fog filled a flat, gray landscape. In all his travels, Garadiel had never encountered such a dull place. There were no hills, no grasses, no strange bushes or trees. No landmarks at all, Garadiel realized with a start. He searched the horizon for something to peak his interest. And he found it in a dim, red light, far to the east of him. Like the mast of a burning ship, perhaps, or the very first glowing ray of sunlight.

    Garadiel reached for his staff, but it wasn't with him. He cursed. The staff had been his companion for as long as he had walked the world and its' loss, more then his own death, made Garadiel resent the wolf that had killed him. He touched his side, where his dagger still remained. Not that he knew if he could die here, but he was glad to have some protection from the possibility.

    He looked again and saw that the red light had not moved. Bracing himself, he went toward it fast as his feet would carry him. Which, I should say, is rather fast. He ran for what could have been hours, though in that place you couldn't tell. The light had risen very slightly and gotten slightly brighter, but the progress was slow because the ground was bumpy.

    He heard a distant sound like a great rush of wind. Then he heard two more in quick succession, like the clapping of some massive bird. He looked in the direction from whence the noises came and heard three more. High, high in the sky, he saw three massive, bat-winged humanoids, perhaps the size of a large giant each. Garadiel saw as they drew closer that their flesh and wings were white, and that the wind they kicked up approached a windstorm. One of them cried out at him, "Rognir!" it shouted, "Is there nowhere that your grasping hand does not reach? Have you sought us even here?"

    Okay, Garadiel thought, which of father's tales involved three white-skinned bat-winged creatures that caused windstorms?
    Last edited by White Blade; 2010-04-20 at 10:14 PM.
    Vincent Omnia Veritas
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  18. - Top - End - #18
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Jair Barik's Avatar

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    Nara awoke to a great pain in one leg. It seemed as though his injuries during the battle were far greater than he had initially realised and he would be unable to walk very far without support. Many of his wounds had not healed as well as he imagined they would and one great cut remained clear across his chest, oozing lightly with blackened blood. This was the first thing he noticed.

    The second thing chilled his heart and brought great tears to his eyes. Sometime during the night something had returned without his heating it, judging by the tracks it was the same beast he believed he had killed the previous day. It had crept back in the night and murdered Tiera in her sleep, ripping her body limb from limb. The grove was bloodied and sickened Nara at its sight. He swore then and there that he would avenge her death by hunting this monster but he did not succumb to the irrational bloodlust of so many vengeful mortals. Before he set out to hunt his prey he buried Tiera beneath the tallest tree in the grove, setting one half of his split axe as the tomb stone and inscribing her name upon it with the remaining half.

    As much as he desired revenge though he could not pursue the beast with a bad leg and so made to snap a branch from the tree to use as his cane. He put his hands around it but then stopped and thought back to the carnage the monster had wrought against nature the prior day. If he were to take from nature in this manner he would be like the beast he hunted who destroyed without thought or feeling. Instead then he would ask.

    "tree..." he whispered to the wood. "a beast hunts in the forest without care or mercy. I would hunt it but my leg is wounded. Will you grant me your aid that I might save the forest from its wrath? Do me this favour and I promise you that I will aid your kin hereafter. This oath I swear upon the soul of my beloved, upon the life of my father and my kinsmen." From the tree fell a mighty branch as tall as Nara himself, a branch whose sides were smooth and strong but also light. Nara could feel the wood of the branch begin to die but forcing his power upon it he kept it living, its aid gained without its death. Nara turned to the tree and bowed, "I thank you."

    Nara left the tree to hunt his prey, leaving the remnants of his axe and only bringing his bow and staff with him. He sought the beast all day with no sign of it. The trails were harder to follow now, the monster seeming to show more care, leaving much less destruction in its path. For two weeks Nara hunted the beast with no sign of it yet a clear trail left by his elusive foe whenever he awoke. In the third week Nara fell to despair, he left the hunt and wandered down the river unsure on what he should do. Through all this week the beast still seemed to taunt him with trails leading away from the river set before him every morning as he awoke. Several nights he stayed awake hoping to catch the beast but each time it failed to appear. He left traps about his camp hoping to deter it but each morning they were carefully disarmed and a trail left. He carved the message WHo are You? into the ground and the next morning a reply was carved beside it reading simply I am Orgo The Crimson Wolf. As the fourth week came Nara prayed. He did not pray for divine vengeance or strength but to understand. To understand how the trees could bare such a beast as this, how nature could abide such evil and wickedness. He prayed that he could share in their stance, that he too could be as they were.

    By the end of the fourth week he had found his answer. It lay upon the rocks by the stream and staring at it he realised in a moment of perfect clarity that his hunt was always in vain. He could never kill the beast, nor even hope to harm it. He could take no action against it and it could take none against him. For now at least. And so Nara abondoned his quest.

    *More to come*
    Last edited by Jair Barik; 2010-04-20 at 09:37 AM.

    He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
    — Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil


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  19. - Top - End - #19
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    RangerGuy

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    Default Eridi - Beach Episode

    It was a beautiful sight, the ocean. He'd seen it a few times in his life, but never twice in the same place. This time he even got to see the sun rise over the horizon, a magnificent vista unrivaled by almost anything he'd ever seen. Still, he groaned when he saw it.

    It had taken Eridi a couple of days to get here, and he still had found nothing. He'd walked past a few puny settlements, but had made sure to steer clear as he had nothing to defend himself with if they had been unnecessarily hostile. This marked the farthest point east the demigod could travel without some sort of boat, it also marked how futile his efforts had been. He knew he had flown in a straight line, his father never would have wasted effort tossing his children in a curved pattern, so his implements were lost at sea. Noting how most of them were made of metal, lost specifically at the BOTTOM of the sea. A hopeless endeavor indeed for as poor a swimmer as Eridi.

    "Okay, I can deal with this," the demigod thought aloud as he plopped down on the sand, "I know how those tools were made, thus I can make some more. I just need a few materials. Meaning I'm going to need a full smithy..." He recounted dozens of the needed items in his head, keeping tabs on a list of ingredients as the list grew.

    By the time he was done, the sun was fully above his head. Maybe it's time to go by those villages, he pondered, They could have some of these things... If not, I might be able to enlist a few to help gather them. But, just in case, I probably need to make an impromptu weapon...

    Grabbing a long piece of driftwood, some dried kelp, a conch shell, and a broken rock, he quickly began to work on a spear. It wouldn't be the best thing he'd made, but at least it'd be usable right now. Once he got it all shoved together right, he cringed at the shoddy workmanship, a mark of his lack of proper tools. When I get these made, I'm making some changes to how they're tied to my belt. This is laughable! Groaning at the weapon again, he got up and walked back towards the nearest village. Recounting his list out loud, he silently wished that at least his scroll tube had stayed attached, filled with as much empty paper and charcoal as it was.

    Which, of course, made fate more cruel when it popped up on the horizon shortly after he had left.
    Last edited by Carden; 2010-04-21 at 02:45 PM.

  20. - Top - End - #20
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Planetar

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    Default Picking a Fight

    Garadiel remembered his father's tale of the Whitewind Brothers as the three drew closer still. The three brothers had blighted his father as he tried to tame the westward winds. Seeing a chance to make mischief, every time The All-Father had sent out a westward wind the brothers would fill it with hurricanes and snowstorms taken from the tallest mountain peak. In time, his father had lured them and caught them with magic, stole from them the knowledge to make snowstorms and strangled them to death, using their last breaths as the magical component that solidified the western wind.

    Of course, there were several problems with Garadiel making a repeat performance. For one thing, he was fairly certain that he didn't need to breathe here and he was fairly certain they didn't either. For another, Garadiel had never had a talent for any magic except for finding things, good for finding lost keys, bad for killing flying monsters. Lastly, Garadiel couldn't fly. Which was a rather final and substantive difference, when you got down to it.

    So a new plan would be needed. Perhaps he could simply point out that he wasn't his father? "I am Garadiel the Wanderer, I have no quarrel with you, for you died before I was born Brothers of the Whitewind!"

    "Has it been so long?" the apparent leader cried, looking to the others who shook their heads, "Rognir is a deceiver!" one yelled, "He speaks to hide behind one of his many names, it was not last evening that we departed the world!" the other shouted.

    Okay. So being dead distorts your perception of time. How long have I been dead? Garadiel wondered. But, more pressingly, he needed to survive. "Well, you got me," Garadiel lied, "I fear I've been caught out. Now go away or I will destroy your very souls!" Maybe that would work. His father had killed them, after all.

    "You cannot kill us Rognir! We will not be tricked again," the Leader shouted.

    Great. Just fantastic. If Father were here, he'd just hurl a spear into their chests and be done with it. But here I am, all I have is a knife, and they're fifty feet high, Garadiel thought, Wait, he realized, I have the food in my pack. "Whitewind brothers, I have food. There is no need for battle, for I have already set the winds, come down and eat."

    "You lie! There is no food here, nothing but the wastes forever and ever."

    "But what about the light over the horizon?" Garadiel asked, confused.

    "What light? There is only the gray light of the haze here."

    "No... There's a red light, over the horizon! It is very distant, but I can see it. Look!" he pointed at directly at the light.

    "Oh, poor Rognir, you have gone mad in these wastes. You are not strong of mind like we are." The three whitewind brothers laughed at him. It was aggravating. Garadiel knew the light was there. And they laughed at him. His anger welled up in him and he drew his knife without a thought and hurled it at one of the brother's chest. The knife missed. Now he was unarmed and at their mercies. And then the brothers began to circle him like vultures, drawing nearer every moment.
    Last edited by White Blade; 2010-04-20 at 10:15 PM.
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  21. - Top - End - #21
    Barbarian in the Playground
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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Calantha and Aldric

    The girl stopped, and turned, laughing--not unkindly--at her brother and his scythe. It always amused her, the big, unwieldy weapon...and her brother's squinting and frowning at the light amused her further.

    "Really brother, what need have you for such a silly thing...? And does it matter, where we are? Can't you feel it...?" Bending down, she plucked a tiny purple flower from the low-lying scrubland, tucking it behind her older brother's ear with a grin.

    "I feel...pulled...called...don't you feel it? I feel like I must run, though it doesn't matter which direction...as though I must find people, humans, mortals like Mother! I want to be around them, I want to learn everything about their lives, things I have never learned or known before...oh Aldric, it's wonderful, don't you see?"

    She grabbed her brother's hand and dragged him off with her; it was as if she could hear her father's voice dripping in her ear. He wanted her to make stories, to find tales and knowledge and histories; he wanted her to learn of others, the way she couldn't, whiling away the hours in his presence. Of the demigods, she held the most innocent love, and her heart was filled with it...for these people she had not met, for their tales and their families, for their laughter and their strife. She wanted to learn it all...she wanted to dive into these people like a fish dives into water, and soak up their lives through her skin.
    Last edited by hi-mi-tsu; 2010-04-20 at 12:29 PM.

  22. - Top - End - #22
    Pixie in the Playground
     
    MindFlayer

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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Laviclan the Lifeshaper, the Lifegiver, eldest daughter of Rognir All-Father and perhaps nearest to him in creative brilliance (save her dear brother Eridi), Laviclan the Evergrowing ... spit sand from her mouth for the billionth time, blew an errant lock of hair away from her face, and glared indignantly about her.

    Sand. For miles in every direction, a vast desert filled with the stuff, with only the occasional cactus, shrub, or other insignificant plant life spotted here or there every half-mile. She had of course investigated them with her divine senses, their biological secrets revealed to her touch and her sight, and she had taken samples (there was nothing alive she wouldn't take samples from) but they had ceased to interest her weeks ago, and by now the repetitive sight of yet another rapture cactus's green, plump hide covered in drugged purple flowers only served to frustrate her even more.

    "Dear Father," she mumbled to herself as she trudged along the edge of a massive sand dune the size of a mountain, unconcerned about her footing (and why should she be?). "Have I not proven my worthiness as a creator to you already? I have bred the most fascinating creatures in the kennels back home, and have grown absolutely wondrous flora specimens in the gardens - I am ready to truly shape life now, if you would but give me my birthright!" Her irritated stomps had loosened the edge of the dune, and what had been a trickle of sand had long ago turned into a tsunami a hundred feet high of loose flowing grit - Laviclan stormed on, completely oblivious and lost in her thoughts.

    "Why are you treating me like my siblings? They are mighty in their own way, but my elder brothers are content to simply observe time flow, or let the world live and die on its own, or wander about simply enjoying your works but not contributing to them - they lack the spirit and drive to truly develop the world, to create true wonders! And my younger siblings are interested in such ... lesser fields..."

    Laviclan sighed. She didn't mean to whine, and felt a genuine pang of guilt about ragging on her fellow demigods, but she had been in this desert for weeks, damn it! Her divine constitution allowed her to move at exceptional speed and without need for rest, but still this epic desert stretched on before her, with no sighting at all of her quarry.

    Life was her art; navigation was not, and neither was hunting or tracking, and certainly not epic quests for glory. Laviclan felt like a fish out of water - an immortal, very stubborn, and very driven fish, but the metaphor was still apt. These adventures were better suited for her more... rowdy brothers and sisters.

    But Laviclan felt her place was at her Father's side, helping him to create wonders. She would do anything to earn that right, and she knew exactly what she would do - to travel to the hidden location of the Arborea Vitae, the Lifetree, whose seeds could be planted to sprout any matter of plant or animal, the very seeds her Father had used to populate much of the world after he had wrested it away from the monsters who had controlled it. With those seeds, she would make an organism so wonderful, so powerful, so awe-inspiring, her Father would swell with pride to see what she had wrought.

    But other than her Father, only one being in the entire world knew the Arborea Vitae's location, and that entity resided at the frozen North Pole.

    Of course, Laviclan was not currently at the North Pole. She was nowhere NEAR the North Pole.

    She was here, in this infernal desert. She was not even sure if this were the correct desert - the combination of flora and fauna she had sighted so far only indicated that she COULD be in the Southern Desert, but not necessarily that she WAS. But Laviclan was her Father's daughter, and nothing if not tenacious and adaptable. And so she continued walking, tossing bits of stranglefish kelp she had taken from her sample collection behind her.

    The stranglefish kelp are gigantic floating seaweeds, and its intensely marine scent immediately evoked images of the rich oceans where they could be found: it would be a very foreign, very unrecognizable smell to anything in this dry desert.

    Except, of course, to her intended quarry, the one living thing that could possibly help her in her quest. Tearing off another watery-smelling dark green leaf - her bait - from her kelp sample, the All Father's eldest daughter, frustrated but inexorable, trudged on.
    Last edited by Aiki; 2010-04-20 at 03:23 PM.

  23. - Top - End - #23
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    BardGuy

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    Apr 2008

    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Alarin

    For hours Alarin wept for his lost kin, his wailing to no avail as the bloody mess lay limp across the clearing the woods. His not so silent tears brought forth all manner of creatures native to the wood, who joined the demi-god in mourning for his brother. After night had come and the moon had long replaced the sun in the sky, Alarin stood up and recollected himself. His grief mastered forn the moment, he gathered the remains of his brother and began to dig a grave for him. Manual labor was an activity he most detested, but for the moment that was of no concern. The only thing that mattered was doing right by his brother, and giving him a proper rest.

    Finally, Alarin wiped the sweat from his brow with his dirty, worn hands. The act had not taken long, but Alarin had no shovel, and physical labor was anathema for him. But none of that was important to the boy god, for Garadiel was put to rest at last. During his workthe musician lost himself in his memories, of times past when life was free and careless and none gave thought of banishment or death. Death was something that also had plagued Alarin during the burial. What in all the world could kill a god? True, his brother was but only a demi-god, but surely none had the power to kill a son of the All-Father. But then Alarin would be reminded of his father, and Alarin's time in the House in the East, and of siblings thrown to the wind.

    "Forgive me brother, but this is all I can do. I will make sure to spread the story of your life. Revenge is in me, for I lack the strength of will and body to do such a thing. Maybe one of our siblings can do such a thing. As it is, I shall set this grave aside for you, and task the creatures before us with protecting this sacred grove. I ask our Father that it may be enough," Alarin said as tears fell freely from his eyes. The boy had taken Garadiel's staff and stuck it into the earth above his grave, as a marker and memorial. It pointed directly towards the heavens, aligning directly with the moon high above, so that if their father were to look upon them he would be able to find the grave.

    Even though hours had passed since Alarin had discovered the body of his brother, the various animals of the forest had remained to watch the god, as if waiting for something in particular. Foremost of them was the great stag, who was now joined by his own family and kin. Observing the myriad creatures that had assembled, Alarin noted with a feeble laugh, "You wish to here my song? I am sorry, but the only ones that come to me now are of greif and mourning. However, you have stayed with me in my time of weakness, so I do owe you. Much more, it is the least I can do for my fallen family to give him one last song." And thus the sorrowful god began to play. With such grace and skill it was played, and beautiful of content it was that the heavens themselves were moved and began to weep, at first a drizzle, but then a great downpour.

    When the song ended at last, Alarin turned to the stag and said, "You there, head of your family. You have been a good companion for me in my short hours on this earth, and never have you left my side so far. So I ask, might you guard this place, maintaining it's sanctity from all save my father and relatives? You will know who they are, for they are of greater substance than mortal man, and dare I say even greater than myself." The great stag nodded his head to accept the task, and forever more gained a place in the boy's heart, and his eternal gratitude.

    Tis own self-imposed task done for the moment, Alarin headed off, somewhere far away from the meadew that was now a grave. He did not know the direction he was headed in, nor did he particularly care. All that he knew was that he wanted to travel far, far away from that place. Garadiel would approve, he though with a grim smile. The silence of the forest was unnerving to the fair skinned youth, and its was not long until he unslung his lute, and began another song. And so he travelled for many a day, time forgotten, direction lost, and care thrown to the wind. All that remained was Alarin, the forest that seemed to go on foreve,r and the music that he lost himself in.

    Spoiler
    Show


    The song that Alarin played. Not exactly this, but of similar theme and content: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Jgma--0WYU

    Last edited by Baxter190; 2010-04-20 at 04:11 PM.
    Founder of the Playgound Misfits, The Imperial Guard Reigment in the Playground
    Commisar Baxter, Local Morale Officer, of the Playground Misfits


  24. - Top - End - #24
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    RangerGuy

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    North Cacalacky
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    Default Eridi - First Contact

    Well, thought the beleaguered godling, this is a good sign. I'm nearly inside the walls and there doesn't seem to be anyone waving spears at me... yet. The scene had been the complete opposite at the last three villages, with the humans chasing the odd-looking youth away. Their technology was surely lacking; they didn't even have rudimentary spearheads like the rock-on-a-stick Eridi made! How he wished one of his other siblings was there, someone like Shen or Raia. He'd even settle for Aldric or Riora at this point, just someone better at fighting than him.

    Yet, as he walked into this small grass-hut town, nobody moved to stop him. In fact, he didn't really notice anybody at all, which was exceedingly strange. He had seen the smoke above the village, he knew someone had to be there to tend the fires. As he turned the corner, he realized why.

    The pyre was built high and already had many men on it. Those few who were left were carrying a steady stream of other bodies to the fire, people who must have been on the losing end of one of their bellicose neighbors' attacks. Eridi noted that the whole ceremony was carried out in silence, those not bearing loads kneeling to what seemed to be a crude altar. Eridi quietly followed suit, respectfully waiting for the funerals to be done.

    The ordeal carried late into the evening, until the raging fire was but embers. When it was done, the village elder came to him and spoke in a fitting, gravelly voice, "Tha spirits watch kindly on you, child, for you showed decency to those which you have no ties, by blood or by rite. Come, let us speak in my home about what brings you here."

    Eridi followed the elder to his hut, one of the few that was still not a scorched mark on the open hill. Inside, he spoke of his loss and need to forge a place for himself by creating his tools, noting each of the items he needed to do so. He carefully avoided any hint of his divine heritage, not wanting to feed any suspicions these people might have about such things. The elder, now introduced properly as Jin'thul, eyes lit up at portions of his story, but he gave no reason as to why. As it was growing late, he offered the travel-weary wanderer his own hut and promised to give as much help as possible the next day.

    When he awoke, Eridi noticed Jin'thul was not there. Walking outside the tent, he found the reason why. Gathered before the hut was a heap of items, numbering among them many minor, but still useful and well-crafted things, a small wagon, two donkeys, and something that really stuck out like a sore thumb, his chisel. He looked up in startled confusion ready to start a barrage of questions, but Jin'thul was faster.

    "Then, that is yours. Then you must take it. Tha spirits have already shown us we cannot claim it as our own, not their shinin' tool. When one of ours found it and took it, there was nothing but dissent here. A push led to a shove, and a shove led to true violence. You have seen tha punishment tha spirits laid upon us for our greed," sweeping his arm across the village, he held up a hand to stop Eridi's forthcoming apology. "No words are needed, for tha fault is not in you for an act you never knew of. Does tha tree weep when it grows old and falls, cripplin' tha man that sleeps beneath it? No, it is enough that tha thing is returned. Never again will brother kill brother, not in this village."

    Nodding his acceptance of the fact, Eridi began to leave, humbled by his unintentional actions. As he packed the things onto his new cart, he noticed something else, a map of the local area. On it was marked the general topography and a few more recent drawings. "What are these markings? What do they stand for?"

    "Tha rock is a place where great stones were once lifted from, a long time ago. Tha man? That's where we once saw those red rocks you told me about, in a cave. And tha tool, well, it kinda tells it's own story."
    After thanking the town for everything, especially Jin'Thul, Eridi finally left. He made sure to mark the village on his new map; one day he would repay their considerable gift, but, for now, he headed towards the man. If it was the wrong type of ore, he needed to know now, not after he had built his forge.
    Last edited by Carden; 2010-04-21 at 02:45 PM.

  25. - Top - End - #25
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Planetar

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    Jul 2004
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    Abilene, TX
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    Default Defeat of the Whitewind Brothers

    Garadiel was beginning to have trouble standing in the center of the three brothers, who were deliberately kicking up a horrible wind. He braced himself against the wind and weighed his options. He could try running but he doubted he could escape. Any defense now would stop at best one of the brothers. So an attack was necessary, he decided. He gauged the distance between him and the lead brother and he tensed his body and waited. Just one more second, he thought.

    Then he leaped at the lead brother, reaching out to grab onto his chest. Again, Garadiel missed his mark thanks to the wind. Thankfully, however, he caught onto the brother's wing, breaking it. The brother began to spin and fall, trying to remain aloft and failing. Garadiel managed to climb onto the brother's back before the crash and when they made contact with surprisingly hard ground, Garadiel drove his knees into the brother's chest, breaking his ribcage and pinning him to the ground. Hurriedly, Garadiel broke the brother's other wing. He reached to twist off the brother's head when the brother let out a cry.

    It was a terrible cry, but not a terrible sound. For the terror lie in its power, not in its sound. For the cry was like a beautiful lullaby, weakening first your will then your eyes, dragging you into the world of dreams. Its power was enough to take even a god to sleep, were the god unaware of the need to defend itself.

    Garadiel hesitated. That was a mistake for the other brothers swooped down and grabbing him in their claw like hands, carried him away. While they held him, Garadiel dragged himself upward against their claws, scraping his arms. But soon his arms were scarcely held and Garadiel kicked his right leg up breaking that brother's arm. His right arm free, he grabbed the last brother's right arm and squeezed it, breaking the elbow. He kicked the brother's leg, dislocating it. Garadiel drew nearer, entwining his legs with the brother's leg. Then he used that leverage to wrest his left arm from the brother's hand. He grabbed onto the brother's only healthy leg and yanked down on it, dislocating it. Now he threw himself upward, hooking onto the brother's wings and looking him in the face.

    A second cry began, augmenting the first. Garadiel felt his will sapped still further. Desperate for a solution, he wrapped his right arm around the creature's neck and broke its wings with his left hand. Once they began to fall, as Garadiel struggled to stay awake, he shoved his fist into the brother's mouth and held it there.

    With a great deal of effort, Garadiel once again ended up on top, his fist being gnawed on by the brother. In an effort to correct this, Garadiel took off his boot and shoved it into the creature's mouth.

    If you had seen Garadiel then he would have looked strange. One boot on with torn sleeves in his shirt, a tired look in his eyes. But he was swift of mind and he knew the other brother would be coming for him soon. So he dashed off to where he had left the first brother on the ground. He felt a pain in his right leg and he guessed he had cut it somehow. None the less, he reached the first downed brother before the only remaining one managed to put an end to him. He took off his boot and shoved it into the creature's mouth.

    The last brother swooped down to save its brothers and defeat Garadiel and Garadiel caught its foot, spun the brother round once and crushed it into the ground. The song began again and Garadiel shoved his hand into the brother's mouth.

    *Garadiel's Time in the Dreary Wastes will be concluded in my next post*
    Last edited by White Blade; 2010-04-20 at 10:18 PM.
    Vincent Omnia Veritas
    Bandwagon Leader of the Hinjo Fanclub

  26. - Top - End - #26
    Ogre in the Playground
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    Oct 2007
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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Riora

    The tall goddess waited till nightfall- well she was going to go earler, but she fell asleep in the jungle. Like a shadow she swept into the cluster of ramshackle houses. As she passed, some awoke, and many could feel that there was something different about the night. She ignored most of the houses, peering into several before moving on.

    At last she sensed it- a power in one of the huts. She moved, and with a easy motion, open the door. The hut was adorned with many exotic materials, tools for alchemy and the like. Sitting stock still on a pallet, was an ancient human woman. She was shaking at the sight of the Goddess.

    Step by step, Riora moved forwards and leaned in to whisper in the old womans ear.

    "When your masters bleed each other in the streets, the time to free yourselves will be upon you." The white haired woman nodded as she listened to every word the goddess said. Then she blinked and Riora was gone.

    The old woman was a Jihashi, or Wise Woman, and spoke the words to all of her people. She was an elder, and her voice was heard and eagerly awaited.

    Riora moved next into the Giants very heart. She whispered to them while they slept, turning brother against brother. One day a breaking point was reached. In the main 'street' in front of the temple, two Giants got violent with each other. With a mighty cry one through the other into a building. He cracked his head and blood poured from his scalp.

    For a moment there was silence as every human stared. Then like a damn shattering the slaves howled and lept on their masters. Suddenly Riora was in the middle of it all, hands blazing with dark fire. The Giants shouted in terror, as the grinning goddess felled them.

    The Giants reacted badly. They were shocked, and were paralyzed with fear as their easy and simplely ordered world collapsed. The humans who would normally be no match were fueled by hate and the goddess. The Giant High Priest tried in vain to plead to HIS gods at the top of the ziggurat. He stopped as Riora rose up in front of him.

    "Oh, they don't listen very well" she snarled and punshed forward. The Giant coughed and the Goddess looked down in vague bemusement as she realized she had punched through his ribcage.

    She gripped and pulled, kicking the body from her. The body tumbled down the stairs and came to rest at the feet of the wisewoman. The humans looked up, and Riora realized that she was holding the Giants heart. She gave a grin and lifted her prize into the air, and ignited her hands.

    The crowd roared for their new God as the heart incinerated...
    She's Shona Han. Disappearing for a hundred years just means she's had a hundred years to plan. Trying to find out what happened to her is just going to draw her attention.

    Then it's a good thing Greystone can KICK REASON TO THE CURB AND GO BEYOND THE IMPOSSIBLE!
    - SurlySeraph

  27. - Top - End - #27
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    OldWizardGuy

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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Shen Zhi Shu
    Shen Zhi Shu continued to teach Zipang and Zhanguo the ways of magic in classes of many hundreds each, until Xiang Jian all knew something they didn't know of magic before they took his instruction. Shen Zhi Shu knew of no threat to Xiang Jian. He had heard of his sister being sighted by one of his five students. However, he had made no effort to contact her.

    In the mean time he had continued to teach new ways to introduce Chi manipulation, as well as the Yin and Yang, to the people through his magic. Himiko occasionally visited Shen Zhi Shu, although she always enjoyed Shen Zhi Shu's lessons, occasionally she would make others jealous just by spending the longest time alone with him. Eventually Shen Zhi Shu and Himiko were bonded inexplicably as a father and daughter, although others thought the relationship was of a more physical nature.

    Many complained.

  28. - Top - End - #28
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Nefarion Xid's Avatar

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    Jul 2008

    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Aldric and Calantha

    Aldric only remained silent as the two trotted through the brush hand in hand. He didn't share his sister's enthusiasm for creation nor the vague task they'd been set to. Really, he and his father didn't see eye to eye on most things. He didn't think Rognir's wisdom beyond reproach, more like beyond reproaching. Knowledgeable? Yes. Infallible? Far from. But who was going to tell him he was wrong? No one. No one still drawing breath at least. If it hadn't been for his siblings, particularly Callie, he would have only been kept in line by the modicum of fear and respect he had for his father. For his brothers and sisters however, he had love; and curiously, he thought love a far more powerful motivator. Simple love was all that kept him trotting after his eager sister. He had no great ambition, he only wanted to stay with his smiling little Callie.

    "Yes, Callie. I feel it."

    He lied.

    ~~~

    Two weeks later...

    The two had stumbled through the rugged land of Kaldor for days before having the good fortune to be nearly trampled by a group of outriders. Their exotic and luxurious dress and pale complexions intrigued the horse lords. Rather than being prodded by spears for looking suspicious, the Kaldorians did the sensible thing and immediately escorted Aldric and Calantha to their village, supposing the pair to be emissaries from a wealthy nation. Of course, they were technically visitors from somewhere over the sea so they neither embellished nor refuted that assumption. Upon their arrival, the charming duo quickly endeared themselves to the royal court (insomuch as it could be called) and were entreated to remain in the chief's hall for as long as they liked. Being a shrewd man, and having guessed at the true nature of his guests, the chief realized that room and board was a small price to pay to keep such powerful friends around. Aldric, with his fondness for dark ale and dark haired women couldn't refuse such hospitality.
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2010-04-20 at 05:46 PM.
    I apologize for drawing CockroachTeaParty as a winged centaur.

  29. - Top - End - #29
    Barbarian in the Playground
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    Nov 2008
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    CA
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    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Calantha, in the Kaldorian village

    The young woman was in heaven. She had been more or less euphoric the whole trip thus far, though she knew that her brother hadn't felt exactly the same; there was just something in the air, something about the world around them, that made her so...

    Happy.

    And now, she spent most of her time outside of the chief's quarters; they were simple to her, but clearly the most palatial of the village. She didn't much like being fawned over there, though; they were always trying to dress her up and turn her into a proper little lady, and while she didn't mind exactly it was a bit stifling. Instead, she chose to wander; she spent several days in the hut of a clay-worker, fascinated at his crafting of bowls and cups for the village people. She learned all about him--his name was Naoka--and his skill; she learned that his whole family had been clay-workers, and that the talent had been passed down, father to son, for generations. In the evenings, she'd return to the chief's home, regaling her brother with her tales before begging paper and ink from the leader, setting the stories down. She learned, too, of their creation-stories from the women, who spoke to her while she helped with their washing and watching their children, and of the war-stories from the men when she watched the small, armed guard practice their maneuvers. She learned about planting crops, and about how these people considered respect to nature and land of utmost importance; they never made a kill without offering up thanks to the animal slain, never planted without first praying to their earth goddess for sustenance and support. It was all quite fascinating, and she soaked the information up like a sponge, writing reams on the history and culture of the Kaldorian people.

    Two weeks in, and she was just as fascinated as when she'd first started; that day, she'd been to watch the cloth-weavers, and they'd presented her with a colorful outfit in the traditional style of their people. As such, when she wandered back into the chief's home, she was wearing a wraparound top in a bright purple shade--made from crushing dark berries into a paste, she'd learned--and a skirt that swished around her ankles and had slits up the side for ease of movement, in a purple and red geometric pattern that pleased her immensely.

    "Aldric! Aldric, look! See what the ladies made me today? Isn't it wonderful?" The girl's face was alight with pleasure, and she grinned at her brother, eyes seeking his approval.

  30. - Top - End - #30
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Nefarion Xid's Avatar

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    Jul 2008

    Default Re: Heroes of the Sagas IC

    Aldric was found in his usual place... in bed. He'd been granted a private bedroom in the chief's hall, a luxury not even afforded to the chief's sons. The reason such a high honor precisely due to his favor with the chief, but it had been granted out of sort of a necessity. Though there were many strapping young men and obliging serving girls in the hall, most had the courtesy to wait until nightfall for their romantic escapades and maintained an appropriate volume. Aldric, having no such manners and a run of exceptionally vocal partners was given the rearmost room of the hall as a means to keep the disturbance to a minimum. Even with the noise pollution, the chief was still convinced that the rakish demigod was an asset to his people and eagerly awaited the day when his enemies would come marching up to his wooden walls only to be greeted with whatever divine wrath the drunken womanizing dolt was concealing.

    "Father, why do Aldric's lady friends pray so passionately to the gods when they go to his room?" asked the chief's youngest.

    He replied, "Oh, you'll find out when you're older, son." Though he wasn't sure himself. At least, his wife had never made those sounds.

    Calantha found Aldric sitting up in bed, half clothed with his tall leather boots still on. A raven haired beauty appeared to be slumbering curled behind him with her head hidden in the pillows. He paused to swallow heavily before addressing his sister.

    "That's... that's wonderful. Very pretty. I uh... I'm not feeling well today. I think I'd better stay here and get some rest. Run along now." His eyes shimmered in the light that drifted in from down the corridor and dimly lit his otherwise dark room. His eyes were heavy, still and dull. Something about his words begged Calantha to just go away.

    The pile of black hair shifted and through her locks Calantha could see a pair of enchanting sky blue eyes. The woman beneath the hair would have been beautiful spare for the patch of smooth skin where there should have been a mouth. The eyes twinkled at her in a twisted mix of glee and pain. She wound her way up to embrace Aldric's naked upper half lovingly while pinning her obsidian dagger under his chin. It had been there the whole time, pressed against his back.

    "Don't scream," said the voice behind Callie.
    Last edited by Nefarion Xid; 2010-04-20 at 07:03 PM.
    I apologize for drawing CockroachTeaParty as a winged centaur.

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