| Viewing Single Post From: Obsidian Reverie | |
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| + Balinor | Jun 18 2005, 02:12 PM |
I am your obsidian reverie...
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(This is a recent RP I posted on another forum. I wish it to be formal, and as real as possible. There are no classes, just guys/girls with swords and luck. No godmodding or Bunnying what so ever on this one....BTW, the title means 'Dark Dreams or 'Black Dreams' depending on how you word it
^_^ As you will read, a land has been taken by a govenment led by a select group of people. I will need one person to lead this government. Hence being the bad guy...more may apply, but they will be lesser generls within the army if they choose to do so. Those who don't wish to join the evil government, will be on the side of the rebellion with me... ^_^ Now, I would like to note that my guy works for the government as a Smith in the beginning, how he ends up on the side of the rebellion we shall see......) ;) The Age of Metal…. It is a story, told in deep context and description, of wars and battles, fought over small thoughts and the like. It’s a story on how the feelings of a select few can alter history. It is a story which is about to be retold once again….. No one saw it coming. No one anticipated it. It raged through LORE with little sound, leaving little in its wake. Like a ghost with a lust for vengeance, this action coursed through the veins of the land with ferocity, swiftly and with definite purpose. Encompassing each and every person as it passed, filling their souls with a darkness none has ever seen. And none has ever felt. It was a feeling that has been known since the beginning of Life. It was one darker then the Darkness element itself. It went deeper, an almost endless tunnel, a source of power, yet taker of souls like Death. This feeling was pure hatred…. It all came about during the Great Fire War, when LORE was brought together as one, a collected union of lives that were stronger then any evil present in the lands at the time. They united for one purpose, this purpose is what fueled them, and kept their hearts burning strong. Each individual person wanted to see one thing…peace. And in the end, their wishes were granted. The end of the Fire War brought a peace that none had ever seen in their entire lives., one of prosperity and wisdom, of learning and strong decisions. Yet the land and the races within were in ruin. Despite the depression, they made do with what they had. But within peace, there is always one thing that seeks to end it. This time it wasn’t some strange monstrosity that seeks to wreak havoc oh no…..This time it was man’s own greed and hatred that would destroy. A select few men came to one another with the same purpose, a purpose that ignited a fire from within. The six of them bore power throughout the lands of man, power that the lesser officials were afraid of. For it could end a life as quick as the hands of a thief could palm an item. These officials blamed their declining empire upon the other races. They blamed their despair and painful rebuilding, the shortage of food and gold, even the war in its entirety upon them. Their own hatred began to fill, slowly becoming its own evil and darkness. These members took their finding to the government and the people. Telling each and every person how any race other then man took their lives. Crushing it within their very palms and dropping it, destroyed, in their face. The people listened, not knowing what to do. This was the time when they were open, the time when those six pushed harder and harder to drill it into their minds, ushering in the feeling that they had towards the other races. It wasn’t long before the entire race of man hated anything else but their own selves wishing death and eternal hell to all that thrived on this land besides themselves. The six took the government by storm. Pointing out how failed their empire had become because of the choices they had made to ally with these ‘Other Beings’. Another day passed, and the six took place of the government, forming their own within a few hours. New rules and guidelines were set in place. Their army grew and grew until it was the largest ever witnessed in the entire history of LORE itself. New weapons were created, new techniques and items of war devised. This wasn’t the race of man any longer…. This new group came to be known as The Order of the Claw. Ran by pure hatred for other Races, the Order of the Claw swept through LORE with their massive army of heavily trained soldiers. Killing each and every creature that was not of their race, children and wives included. Some managed to escape into a remote region of LORE, beginning to contemplate plans against the Order of the Claw. Little did followers of the Claw know, this inexorable slaughter began the forming of another alliance. This one combined of all the other races in an effort to return peace to its former glory. Both groups grew in power until they were equal. The determination of both stayed high as they led their armies to the final battleground….Battleon. Soon it was all over. The other races were inevitably destroyed at the end. The only thing that could be done now, was to watch as Man swept over the remaining area’s of LORE soaking the earth with the blood of many. Lives were taken regardless of sex and importance. Throughout this whole ordeal, A few lucky individuals were able to escape such a fate. They hid in remote locations such as the mountains, caves, and anything else that offered and protection from the Order as they finished what they started out to do… So began the dark Ages of LORE… It’s been 600 years since that fateful day. Now LORE was an empty shell of its former glory, a giant ball of steel and iron since the discovery of metal some 200 years ago. New inventions sprang up from the minds of many in the years since. To the higher officials, it seemed like a peaceful age of prosperity and wisdom the age that they have longed for. But ask the common folk and they will tell you differently. The streets are littered with many years worth of garbage and decay. The metallic surface is rusted through in some spots as Robo-Droids patrol the streets for thieves and law breaking folk. Created only around 70 years ago, these steam engines machines were created for war purposes. But also had scanners implemented into them, each filled with every Law formed by the Order. Hell, these days one could get arrested for walking down the street at the wrong time if a Robo-Droid caught sight of them. It is unknown right now to where they go, but they are never seen again. But it can be understood why some people steal these days. Taxes are as high as ever, searches of the homes of commoners are commonplace now-a-days. Murders are on the rise, both by common folk, and of the Order themselves. And it was rare not to find someone with some kind of disease on the streets with the homeless and thieves. Compiling all of this into one, it is understood why people now consider LORE a living hell. And it all started because their fore-fathers couldn’t hold a grudge without getting revenge. And now it is the people’s turn to get revenge. Revenge on man for those who have died, revenge for giving them this hell on earth. But nothing was ever done. The power of the Order struck fear into the hearts of each and every person, keeping them in check. Even if a rebellion was to happen, it would be crushed by brute force, and tactical minds….…….Or would it? Let us focus our attention onto Battleon, or what once was Battleon. Battleon was leveled after the war, rebuilt into a town better suited for man and his empire. Once the invention of a stronger metal came about, everything was made of metal. Houses, streets, even the trees were shrouded in the metallic substance. It was here that the Order would place their HQ. It was here that would be the capital of the Order of the Claw. Thus the name Battleon lasts no more. It was stripped of the title that held since the days of the races. Now this era was to be of one race….man. Thus the town is now known as Riyo. Throughout the years, Laws and rules were made. Inventions created, and quality of soldiers has risen. And so has the depression of its people. Death tolls rise, and angry citizens have multiplied. If it wasn’t for the military strength of the Order, they would have revolted already…. It is here that our story begins. One of dangers, decisions, and bravery. What is to happen was written down as a legend in history. Now only a mere tale told by fathers to their children. A tale of how a group of people changed the fate of LORE from darkness and decay, to its former glory of peace….. And so it begins… Above Riyo, dark clouds lay hovering idly by. Their watchful gaze pouring down upon the city in a sweep of tears as they watched the town below continue its downward plunge into darkness. The clear drops spattered off of the metal that lay all over the city itself. A side effect of the past, a past none wished to see happen again. Puddles formed along the edges of the streets. Their water becoming murky and dark the moment they lay. Some turned into a rusty red, as if the spirits of those fallen in this town washed it over with their own blood. The blood spilt on this very earth which was now covered in a layer of metal. A past covered by the future as some would say. But the future doesn’t look much brighter on the other side… Towards the north end of Riyo, a large facility stands tall, much higher then the building which stood in the exact same place before. Its walls carved from a mysterious black stone recently discovered in what was the Elven wood a few miles south. Its surface glittered against the black hue with streaks of dull gold. A sign of light shrouded in darkness. The building itself was large at the base. Taking a quarter of the town’s limits within its dark grasp as it created a base for the tower which loomed over head. The walls thinned a bit as they went upwards into the sky, until they broke off into five, individual, spiked pieces. From far away, it seemed like a wicked, dark hand curled into the sky , forming a dark spell to take over the world as if it didn’t already happen. Deep sounds echoed throughout its base. Sounds of metal striking metal as it rang aloud throughout the ears of those present. It was yet another day within the forge. The air was filled with intense heat and the smell of smoke and white hot metal reached the nostrils of the smiths as they worked the day away, knowing little of the storm that went on outside of the black walls. The room itself was dark, safe for the light which came from the red embers and flames. So far it was only him, but that would be soon to change as the night shift took over. The flames and heat brushed his face like a spirit of fire would its own child. His right arm rose up into the air once again, the light reflecting a slightly muscled limb from its many years of service. The hand at the end was shrouded in a back glove which was cut off at mid part of each finger, providing grip for the hammer which he bore within his palm. The handle itself, a hard wooden shaft which only extended about a foot from the anvil at the tip. The dull, black hue emitted a soft shine as light struck its surface for the slightest of moments before it disappeared in a downward motion once again. The blunt, metallic end struck a fellow metal with a sound clash which echoed throughout the room like a call for battle. Finally it was over; he had been at it for about three hours now ever since finishing the daily task of making weapons for the Order. The project of his own personal weaponry started about a year ago, now it was completed. The blade which lay below his eyes was of a soft blue hue. The blade itself was no more then five inches across, weaving up gently in a series of gentle waves. Not really noticeable, but slight, as if the light was bending the metal to its own whim. The tip broke off into split hooks on both the left and right, extending about two inches from the tip both ways. It all finally came down to the hilt, which was nothing special really. The guard was a black strip of metal about an inch thick. It rounded at the edges slightly to form to its wielders hand, protecting the top of the hand from damage in battle. The hilt was nothing more then criss-crossed pieces of leather to provide maximum grip…. A deep sigh came form his lips, a sigh of both excitement and achievement. It had been awhile since he forged a blade of this magnitude, and now it was complete. His left hand quickly shot off into the darkness, bringing out a pair of tongs from the side of the forge. Using both hands, he clamped the blunt ends on the blade. Lifting the metal softly before turning about in a one-eighty degree turn to a large barrel of dark water behind him. Soon the blade was engulfed in the cool liquid with a satisfying hiss as steam rose from its very being, cooling the metal into a finishing look as it was brought up shortly after. His figure turned to the right then, setting it aside a rounded buckler he had finished days earlier. After unclipping the tongs and setting aside, he took a giant step backwards. Admiring his now finished work as the metal gleamed brightly from its spot beside the forge. His right found his hammer once again to his side. He took it into his hand, pushing lightly with his palm as it sent it into a soft spinning motion with a twirl of his wrist, finally sheathing it into a loose, dark leather belt at his waist with a sound clinking of metal as other objects within the belt touched each other in the sudden movement. Yes his work was done….and now it was time for a break before the night shift came in. His eyes watched the weapon and shield a moment longer before pulling away. Soft footsteps echoed lightly into the room as he strode towards a door in the darkened room. Slinging it open before his very eyes as a bright light washed into the room, a blinding white light which shrunk his pupils form being in the darkness for so long. He brought up his hands quickly to shield from the sudden bath in light, letting his eyes adjust before dropping them to his waist once again, a soft not came from his head as he shook the dizziness from his mind. Finally looking upwards to where he was. It was a relatively straight hall, narrowed to the point where only four people could walk shoulder to shoulder before touching the walls which were a dull metallic gray. Bright bulbs hung a few feet from each other on the ceiling above, showering those below with its bright shine and glory. There were few doors within these halls, some lead to empty rooms, others to conference chambers where non-important generals held meetings. There was the occasional time where the important figureheads of the Order came down to the base of the tower. But very rarely did such a matter of importance happen. He craned his neck to the left, then to the right, his hair swaying softly against the headband tied about his forehead. The clothing he wore was black, thought it was supposed to be white, cut off at the sleeves revealing slightly muscled arms. Scars appeared here and there, side effects from flying sparks and pieces of white hot metal touching flesh. As told, his hands were bound in black gloves, finally coming down to jet-black pants with matching boots. All in all he seemed like a secret assassin ready for a mission. His skin darkened because of the smoke and flames, making even him stink like the fire from which he worked. As if to finally decide on a direction, he turned his body to the right. Walking down the hall with a few sounds thuds as he walked to a large bulkhead door…… |
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| Obsidian Reverie · Role Playing Games | |
10:07 AM Nov 27
