No hope for the damned RP [IC]

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AuthorTopic: No hope for the damned RP [IC]
Infiltrator
Member # 4248
Profile #0
Link to the Out of Character thread.

Moderator's note. This is an RP named "No hope for the damned". The thread title is not (intentionally) a prediction of its fate.
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At the northern reaches of Ta-Shanti kingdom lies the small village of Emerald Cliff. Far from the large cities of the great desert, its inhabitants lived in isolation, rarely hearing much news from the civilized world. It didn't really matter to them, though; living in the cool shadow of palm trees and near the Lake of Hopes, they had all the water and food they could ever need, unlike many of their southern kinsmen.

Unfortunately, most good things aren't made to last. The downfall of Emerald Cliff began the day when a foreing wanderer entered village. The girl was delirious because of dehydration and lack of food, barely able to ask for help when the time came for it. The villagers, naturally, pitied her and treated her the best they could. It took a week for the girl to come to her senses (sort of); when she did, she was horrified.

The girl told the villagers a terrible tale of a curse that had befallen on her, and how she had tried to reach the great city of Salintu in the east to lift it. Sobbing, the girl exclaimed it was now too late, and not only her but the villagers as well would face horrible deaths soon enough.

The villagers hated to be impolite to someone who had barely survived a trip trough the desert, but upon hearing her story they couldn't help laughing. The city of Salintu, they explained, had been in ruins for centuries; it was only a pile of barren rocks now, and there was no cure to be found there. Also, to the habitants of Emerald Cliff notions of curses and magic were foreing; to them such things were nothing but myths and superstition. Sorry for the poor gal, they explained her that her story was likely nothing more than hallucinations caused by the heat of the sun. Doubtful at first, it didn't ultimately take long for the girl to become convinced that it had really been so. With a burden lifted from her heart, she began working for the villagers to pay back her debts so she could leave bact to her home town.

Disaster, however, was already stalking at the horizon. Slowly misfortune creeped into Emerald Cliff, taking various forms as it went on its way. Fishers at the lake got increasingly poor hauls, the water of the village's wells became sour and salty, and finally dark grey thunder clouds blocked the rays of the sun, months earlier than expected. The villagers, however, weren't yet worried; such things had happened in the past, it was only slightly unusual for them to happen now. The foreigner was more troubled, but didn't say anything, not wanting to bother the villagers with her "superstition". Then her day of departure came, and all went straight to hell.

She got up early in the morning, way before her hosts. Not wanting to wake them up, she packed her equipment and sneaked out of their house queitly, setting her course back to south and west where her home lied. Not long after, her screams of pain awoke those she had tried to spare, and her hosts rushed out to see what had happened to their guest. Seemingly suffering from fits of an illness, she was lying hunched on the ground, sweating and screeching in pain. Startled, the villagers carried her back in and again treated her to the extent of their abilities, but this time their attempts were in vain. The girl died, and, mourning silently, the villagers buried her at their cemetery. Instincts told them something wasn't right, but it was but a feeling; it offered no knowledge of how to act. The villagers went to their homes, troubled but hoping for a better tomorrow. Still, dark clouds hung over the earth and their minds, leeching way their normal happiness and joy.

Day later, it began to rain.

The storm was worst seen in a decade. The wind ripped palms from the ground, causing them to fall over houses and fences; the rain caused the lake to flood and the streets turned into rivers of mud, making working outside practically impossible. Much of the village's live stock went missing, stripping some of the villagers from their property and way of living.

Fortunately, the rain only lasted for a week. The sun peeked trough the dark clouds and rebuilding of the villagers' homes could begin. Of course, they knew such a sudden change in weather was wrong, on some level, but at the moment they were just happy for the storm to end. Still, some of them couldn't push the nagging doubt in their minds away any longer, and began going trough the first words of the dead foreigner. A curse, that was what they were going through. And when the Demon arrived, the told their thoughts to everyone. And so the day came for the villagers to plan their next step to the future...

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It was night, but no-one was sleeping. All the villagers had gathered in their village's temple, one of the few buildings that had been left almost undamaged by the storm. One could see flickering lights of torches burning from the windows, with a shadow of someone standing up occasionally blocking the view. Ilumas lurked in the shadows and listened to the frightened chatter of the villagers gathered to solve the problem they were facing.

Little they know of their fate the demon pondered as it quietly circled around the temple. For a passing moment, it looked at the face of a small children peeking out from the light, but when their eyes met the demon scurried off, leaving only a hint of movement for the child to catch. The boy peered into the darkness with uncustomized eyes, blinked a few times to see better, and then drew his head back in. "Mommy, I saw it! I saw the demon!" the child shouted. "Oh, don't scare me like that, Eliah. Everyone knows such a creature would never come near this place!" his mother snarked back, but her voice reeked of uncertainty and lies. In the dark, the demon smirked.

And to think that just a month ago she would have sworn there were no gods or devils in this world, the demon thought and chuckled. How could she be so certain of divine protection now? That there were demons didn't necessarily mean there were angels too...

I wonder what they're up to, Ilumas thought when he again crept closer to the temple. Had the villagers listened to Alicia, or had they just ignored her sayings as superstitious humbug? Much to its chagrin, the demon had no idea. But it didn't really matter now, did it? They were all doomed anyway...

[ Friday, April 04, 2008 03:42: Message edited by: saunders ]

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Life is a neverending carneval where everyone has multiple costumes. I just hope mine are pleasing to the eye.
Posts: 617 | Registered: Tuesday, April 13 2004 07:00
Agent
Member # 8030
Profile Homepage #1
The storm that occurred the previous week had wreaked havoc upon the village. Most of their fishing vessels lay obliterated upon trees and boulders. In addition to that, a majority of their huts remained on the brink of collapse or already fallen.

Fortunately, their storage pits rode out the storm. Some food was still salvageable, but only enough to feed the village for a week. Meanwhile, the whole population was out doing repairs...

The area surrounding Antioch is composed of scattered trees, but mainly bushes bearing bad fruit. Shamgar stood their hacking down a poplar in preparation for constructing a new fishing boat. His troisieme, a traditional three-tined spear, rested against a neighboring tree. After hacking in excess of an hour with his stone axe, the tree finally gave way. Using what energy he had left he hauled it back to the village.

Several of his peers immediately seized the log to begin carving it. As he reclined against a boulder, Shamgar noticed something odd. The lake had an unnatural tint to it, as if some pestilence had grabbed a hold of it.

He went to the chiefs hut, the only structure in the village made of stone. He then noticed all of the fish in storage were strewn about the ground, as if they were spoiled. This wasn't good news. He ran inside quickly.

The chief greeted him and explained the situation. The water was sour, the fish were bitter, and the wood was hard. The chief, by the name of Hogart, assigned Shamgar a dutiful task. He was to seek out the cause of this misfortune. Shamgar agreed and began preparations.

He asked the local weaver to make him a back sack from the reeds. He collected fresh supplies and claimed a newly built fishing vessel. His plans were to ride along the coast of the lake in search of a cure, but first he had to rest. Tomorrow would have much in store for him.

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Decca Records - "We don't like their sound. Groups of guitars are on the way out."
Posts: 1384 | Registered: Tuesday, February 6 2007 08:00
Law Bringer
Member # 6785
Profile #2
Al stared out from his cave. The rains had stopped yesterday after weeks of unending showers. Now all he saw was mud. He hated mud. He'd give it another day to dry out before he would attempt the slog to the coast. At least that would be a landmark in this mess.

"Alex Coe Hallic you're stuck in a gods forsaken bog," he mutttered out loud. All because of that clumsy idiot Flam. If only he hadn't knocked over a latern onto the newly dried batch of powder he had been experimenting with in the Alchemical Research Hall. The explosion had burnt his robes when it destroyed the hall. Flam had been lucky that he died in the blast. He didn't have to face the Council's punishment of being stripped of his title as Master of Alchemy and the fines that almost wiped out his savings. They wanted someone to blame and he had been the only survivor. Worse was being made to teach apprentices as if he was a journeyman, again.

That was what had led him to this place. The need to reclaim his position. He was going to show them. When he returned in triumph he was going to be a senior master. They would shower him with wealth to more than make up for what he had lost.

Al had found the Salintu Flora Codex buried behind a shelf a dusty tomes. It was a boring manuscript except it mentioned the location of that rarest of alchemical ingredients, ember flowers. Ember flowers hadn't been seen Ta-Shanti in over a hundred years. When he reaches Salintu, he would be able to find enough to show those that had destroyed him. They would pay whatever he wanted to know where he had gotten them.

For now he sat and waited. His food was running low and he had been trapped here for days. His firewood was gone and it would be impossible to find any after weeks of rain. At least he had light to read that tattered book he had found at the inn. The Adventures of Vladamir Vortigern told the life story of the high priest to the Temple of TM. Some sort of fire diety since the book kept mentioning flaming. Too bad so many of the interesting parts were missing. Al couldn't understand why the high priest had brought a live sheep to his bedroom. There must have been an altar there for sacrifices. But what was Vladamir going to get for making a sacrifice there?
Posts: 4643 | Registered: Friday, February 10 2006 08:00
Infiltrator
Member # 4248
Profile #3
The night was over and the villagers were back at work, again. The demon watched their efforts from the top of the titular Emerald Cliff, shaking its head in either pity or amusement. Some villagers turned to look at the Cliff, as if sensing their oppressor was there, but saw nothing. The demon stared back, chuckling slightly at their inability to perceive the other-worldly.

Humans. They always feel so high and mighty, labeling things good and evil where ever they are, but when a real evil crosses their path they can't even notice it. What a pity. Then again, in daylight he was one of the lesser problems the villagers had; crops and fruits had been destroyed, the soil had been turned into soddy mud and the fishers came back empty-handed yet again. Food was scarce yet needed, as there was so much for the villagers to do. they would know hunger for a long time to come.

Of course, that wasn't the demon's problem; it would soon have to depart, to search for the villagers sent to the ruined city of Salintu. The word of the curse had already spread in all nearby settlements. Even fishers from Antioch, from the other side of the lake, had taken their share of the area's burden. The name "Shamgar" had been tossed around a few times; the demon concluded it should find the man soon. The creature turned on its heels and stared beyond fallen palm trees and shattered huts, to the eastern reaches of the lake district. It's only a few peasants. I can handle this, it pondered as it jumped down from the high cliff and disappeared among the debris

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Life is a neverending carneval where everyone has multiple costumes. I just hope mine are pleasing to the eye.
Posts: 617 | Registered: Tuesday, April 13 2004 07:00
Lifecrafter
Member # 7557
Profile #4
Magic is a generalized term for a force that in no way is obliged to conform with the panting linier nature of reality. The one principle it does adhere to, is that it adheres to absolutely no principles. A man who can use magic, can only use that magic that he can understand, if he believes his powers stem from the fact that if there was no magic the universe would fly apart at the hinges, then in his mind, magic therefore does so. It is a vast, never-ending (or even beginning) tidal-wave of energy strung together from the waste of the more upper-class and stable dimensional universes, good old board-n-bones universes were the inhabitants had discovered such wildly outrageous things as space-flight, or how to light a fire using quantum particles blasted through a highly complex array of accelerator funnels and lithium mirrors. Once every few hundred years there are people who don’t believe this and set out to prove the fundamental stability and logic of the universe, the lucky ones manage to escape in a shape with two legs, the unlucky ones are let go.

In a field about a mile from the village of Emerald Cliff, something was descending. It was a dot on the horizon moving so fast it left a smoke-trail. As it moved closer an odd set of noises could be faintly discerned as emanating from it, which alternated vibrantly from the lower to higher end of decorum. As it entered the last phase of re-entry into common reality, the noise took on a decidedly more colourful tack. There was a bang that shook the nearby trees and spread fountains of dirt half a mile away. For about five minutes there was silence, inquisitive creatures, overcoming their previous shock at the incoming missile began to creep towards the several metre deep impact creator. Then something screamed, it was a long drawn-out scream that turned weasels albino and sent deer into heart palpitations. A tall figure, clad in the pathetic vestiges of armour and covered in earth clawed its way up from the rim. It stood up, shaking its main of hair. Its skin was black; its eyes a wild blue blaze amid a face chiselled enough to have come from a stonemason.

“Is that all you’ve got you corny old ******” It bellowed at the sky. There was a moments pause, then a slab of something grey and metallic slammed into the earth a few metres away and stuck there. The figure strode over to the corroded old weapon and then kicked it savagely. It exploded into fragments.

“I didn’t need it anyway!” He snapped at the grey overcast cloudbank that was forming. There was another pause, then as he looked down again at the slivers of metal that had once been his sword a large amount of metal sheets dropped on his head. The air blurred from the concentrated heat of his swear-words as he fought his way out from under the load of rusty iron.

He stood up, looked around again, waited for a moment or two to make sure no further celestial packages were going to drop on him, then tried to throw a fireball at a pile of wood. There was sad little “pfft” noise from his fingers, and his eyebrows began to smoulder. A further minute-and-a-half of swearing ensued, the trees, already wilting gave up the fight and began shedding leaves. Finally, silence reigned. So did water, which as if on que began to fall from the sky. Jeran Korak, interstellar vagrant, swordsmaster and fatal sarcastic sighed resignedly, stood up, wrapped the last pathetic rags of his armour tighter around him and began to trudge through the increasingly torrential downpour towards the dim lights that he surmised was a village. Doubtless here he would find yet another quest, yet another set of fantastical magic items and be yet another pawn in a scheme of things no mere mortal could understand. How he hated them. At least there didn’t seem to be any raving demi-gods or pastry worshippers in his general vicinity, and the rain was cool.

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*Eyes potential targets*
Posts: 942 | Registered: Sunday, October 8 2006 07:00
Shaper
Member # 7420
Profile Homepage #5
The Great Warrior of Scheissdorf had been killed. The Wise Witch said he was called away by the Nether Spirits, who took from him control of his legs, causing him to fall off the cliff over the hunting grounds. A grand funeral was held in the center of Scheissdorf, and the entire population (thirty-seven people) was there. The Food Spirits had been angry that year as well, and the people were hungry. So the old Great Warrior was butchered and enjoyed by his former kinsmen. He was delicious. Now, a new Great Warrior would have to be chosen to carry his Club.

The ornamented Club was placed on the top of the very cliff the old Great Warrior had fallen from. As the Law Spirits ordained long ago, whomever was able to simply take the Club would be the new Great Warrior. Talbot intended to take this opportunity, despite the dangers of the Trial. If he became Great Warrior, he would have his pick of any female in all of Scheissdorf! So the Trial began.

The best young men in Scheissdoft were all there, a dozen in all. At the Wise Witch’s call, they began their ascent of the cliff. Only one could reach the top first, and so each man did all he could to keep the others from reaching the goal. Talbot kicked the man below him in the face, and he fell far. Soon enough, only one man was further up the cliff than Talbot, his friend Philo. Glory was at stake here, however, so Philo stomped as hard as he could on Talbot’s hand, causing him to lose his grip. Talbot forgave his friend, regained his balance, grabbed Philo’s foot with his good hand, and pulled. Philo fell as well, even farther than the first man. Talbot reached the Club first, and the others were quickly beat into submission, gently, leaving only a few bruises and broken bones. Talbot was now the Great Warrior. Three had been killed in the Trial, and while they did not taste as good as the old Great Warrior (being failures) the village dined well that night.

Talbot’s glee would be short lived, however, for all was not well in Scheissdorf. The Wise Witch called a meeting, for the Great Spirits had come to her. The land cried out in pain, the sea moaned, and the sky choked. The duty fell to the Great Warrior to find a solution. He would have to travel to the lands where people spoke strange words and wore funny clothing, built houses out of rocks and lived with beasts. Perhaps they would be able to help him to cure the land. Talbot grunted in disappointment, the females would have to wait.

All of Scheissdorf gathered again to see him off. The Wise Witch gave him the village’s entire fortune: five shining rocks. He was also given meat and water that was almost clean to sustain him as he crossed the Lush Wasteland. With these things and his mighty Club, he set out North to cure the Spirits of the world.

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You lose.
Posts: 2156 | Registered: Thursday, August 24 2006 07:00
Councilor
Member # 6600
Profile Homepage #6
Not far from Emerald Cliff, a small cart sat up to its axles in mud. Michael stood beside it, feeling his clothes dry in the sun, breathing in the crisp air, and tasting his newfound freedom. The storm had been terrible to endure, but now it seemed almost a blessing.

Michael had worked for Magero the Magician (and Snake Charmer Extraordinaire) for almost twelve years. He had managed the supplies. He had helped tend to the snakes. He juggled a bit and sang a few songs. But mostly, he was a midget; a freak people would pay to gawk at. Now, approaching his twenty-third birthday, Michael was tired of it. He was tired of the stares and of being paraded around at every new village. There had to be more to life than that.

But every time he had tried to leave, Magero had a new excuse that gave Michael cold feet and made him stay. Magero had no excuses now. He had been worried about the snakes and so had Michael bring their cages into the tent. Michael had been forced to weather out the storm huddled in the bottom of the cart. It had been the last straw.

As he had brought them into the tent, he had unlatched the cages. Magero worked only with venomous snakes, and the storm would have left them cold and frightened. They would have sought warmth and attacked at the slightest provocation. Michael didn't have to check inside the tent to know that Magero was dead. But he unzipped the tent anyway, so that the snakes too would know freedom.

Michael left the cart where it was, hefted a sodden bag of supplies, and headed for Emerald Cliff. His luck had finally changed for the better, even if it did mean wading through mud up to his armpits.

---

Dikiyoba.

[ Sunday, March 09, 2008 17:26: Message edited by: Dikiyoba ]

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Episode 4: Spiderweb ReloadedEpisode 5: Spiderweb Resistance
Posts: 4346 | Registered: Friday, December 23 2005 08:00
Law Bringer
Member # 4153
Profile Homepage #7
Demarkus eagerly watched the fisherman approach his hut at the edge of Emerald Cliff. He could spot a sale from a mile away, and today he felt lucky. He remembered the man's face, but struggled on the name. But it wouldn't matter.

Pleasantries went by quickly (Demarkus swore that people's tempers were getting shorter), and soon the fisherman was eyeing the long table laden with Demarkus's crafts. And just as soon, the man was walking down the path, shaking his head.

Times were bad for Demarkus, who scraped by as an artificer of sorts. At least, he called himself that. He knew that the villagers thought of him as the desert's junkman, making stupidly dangerous and unnecessary trips into the desert to bring back garbage. And with all the hardships that Emerald Cliff had endured, few people were willing to pay for Demarkus to install a fresh rainwater collection system. Sighing, he went to the far end of the hut and examined his crude map of the surrounding desert.

There was a large, empty area where he and everyone in the kingdom knew lay the ruins of Salintu. He had never even thought of making the journey, dangerous as it was. Between Emerald Cliff and Salintu, there were no villages. Possibly no water. Just desert, and maybe the occasional ruin.

But he had been at the temple meeting, and knew that the elders were bent on sending someone to the city. "Anything to save the town," they had said. And if the journey were a success... the riches that supposedly lay in the abandoned city were enough to set a man of Demarkus's tastes for life.

He lay a haversack on the table and started gathering equipment. He would have to catch the elders soon, before they decided who would leave.

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Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice.
Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00
Infiltrator
Member # 4248
Profile #8
Near the village's main temple also lay its largest well. In a normal time, there would have been half dozen people fetching water there, babbling about daily life and exchanging rumors. Now, it was deserted. Two weeks ago its water had went sour, and nobody dared to drink from it anymore in fear that the water was poisonous. Well, almost nobody.

To the demon, it didn't matter what the water would taste like; nothing could ever be worse than what it had been forced to drink in its home land. With a manic glint in its eyes, it threw a dirty bucket in the abandoned well, and soon after pulled it back up with a tattered stretch of rope. It stretched its mouth wide open and poured the water into its maw, enjoying the coolness of the liquid to all of its ability. Some priest coming from the temple took a troubled glance at the well, certain that there was something abnormal in what he was seeing. He soon left, unable to discern what was wrong with his perception.

Poor bastard, the demon thought and flung the bucket away. Oh, how the world had fallen; even holy men could no longer recognize the presence of the supernatural. Suits me, though, the demon pondered and a malicious grin spread on its scarred face. Its golden eyes followed the priest's trail for a while, but after some thinking the demon decided it would not be worth the trouble.

I wonder when will they gather again, Ilumas mused as he turned to look back at the temple. I should have paid more attention last night. I can't afford for them to get a big head start; if they get the curse lifted, I'm done for.

The idea made the demon shiver. When humans are scared death, their terror is usually fear of the unknown. To the demon, it was the opposite: it knew exactly what it would have to face should it fail, and the thought made its pupils widen in anger.

The demon had never achieved much; during its whole existence, it had always been an underdog. Whatever victory it had achieved had always been bittersweet, and in the end it had always found itself in the losing end of things. It had been forced to live in the farthest reaches of the world, without friends, with little sustenance or hope of a better world.

But even that life was preferable to the alternative.

"I will never go back. Never", the demon snarled and clenched its fists. Its eyes still stared at the battered temple building, but they did not see it. Long Ilumas just stood there, its mind fixed on the dilemma it was facing. Only when the sun began to set it finally realized to start moving, dissolving to the shadows surrounding the temple area...

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Life is a neverending carneval where everyone has multiple costumes. I just hope mine are pleasing to the eye.
Posts: 617 | Registered: Tuesday, April 13 2004 07:00
Law Bringer
Member # 6785
Profile #9
Al packed up his belonging and prepared to trudge through the mud. When he got back to the capitol in triumph he would write a stern letter to the proper authorities about the lack of road maintanence out here in the remote provinces. The local lords had completely failed to maintain the road to Salintu. How was he expected to get there with this pathless desert to cross.

At least his potions were still intact. He would need them if he ran into any trouble. Although he hadn't seen anything bigger than a bird. Why did they keep circling above him?
Posts: 4643 | Registered: Friday, February 10 2006 08:00
Lifecrafter
Member # 7557
Profile #10
Jeran had been right, it was indeed a village; a small, stunted village with huts that looked like a lot of trees that had decided to huddle together for warmth. But it was a village. Jeran had stumbled upon it almost by accident, the tree-line and residual fog having obscured the flickers of light that had previously been his guide.

It had taken quite a bit of holding his agility and holding his fiery temper in check to convince the villagers that he was not in fact some kind of demonic creature. However once he had assured them of his physical existence, they had been more then happy to provide him with a meal and a bed of straw in one of the still-standing barns. It smelled odd, and the straw prickled his skin unmercifully, it being still rather tender from his explosive re-entry into normal reality. But it was a bed…

He arose early, having almost no need for sleep. Surprisingly, neither did the village chief, who summoned him to the longhouse. As he stepped over the threshold he noted that the entire village seemed to have turned out to view this spectacle, and apparently to view this strange black-skinned creature that the chief was placing so much faith in.

“The water is sour, our homes are devastated, the food is rotten, our woman are barren” said the chief, his voice dim and cracked with age and ruined by the effects of the curse.

“And it shall be my task to avenge this calamity, and to bring peace and security to your community one again?” Inquired the traveller, careful to keep all traces of sarcasm out of his voice.

“For your own safety and ours, if we send no-one then we shall all die, yet we all have been weakened by the lack of food, the bitter water and the winds that force us to keep constant vigil. If we send you then we still have our strongest to aid his people, and you will be gone from us and we shall at least rest a little easier”

Jeran understood perfectly, it was basic triage. They were desperate, so they had to send someone, they didn’t understand him, so they sent him away, they understood he could be no help to them, so they cared nothing should he fail. The deal was sealed within the hour, and his use of long words had gained him a half-decent iron blade and a travelling garment. The direction was clear: Across the wastelands and to the ancient city of Salintu were the villagers had heard there lay the best chance of finding a cure for this dreaded curse.

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*Eyes potential targets*
Posts: 942 | Registered: Sunday, October 8 2006 07:00
Law Bringer
Member # 4153
Profile Homepage #11
Demarkus shielded his eyes from the setting sun as he trudged towards the temple. His sack seemed to have gotten heavier with the short hike from his hut to the center of Emerald Cliff. He would either have to leave some behind, or hope that someone else would help carry the load. Or better yet, he might be able to sell some.

Then, he caught a glimpse of something at the top of the cliff. It was just a speck against the sun, but... no, it was just a rock. It had to be. The top of the Cliff was sacred ground.

He reached the temple gates just as a harried apprentice darted out the doors to light the torches. Nobody's the same these days.

Of course, Demarkus could feel the gloom in the city. He had no idea if it was actually being caused by something external, or if the townspeople had just fooled themselves into believing it, but either way it was palpable in the dry desert air.

As he entered, he looked around, expecting to see other volunteers from the village. There were none, amazingly... only the high priest Kelleth, soon re-joined by his apprentice Martin. The elderly priest bowed.

"Greetings, sir Demarkus. We have had many visitors today... what may we do for you?"

Demarkus gaped. Had nobody in the village volunteered to help? "Highest, what have you and the elders decided about the plague?"

The wrinkles in Kelleth's face deepened as the sun sank from view. "Truthfully, you are the first to inquire, Demarkus. So far we have only heard offerings and prayers from the village. None have had the courage to volunteer for what must be done."

"So you believe the girl's story?"

"It makes a certain amount of sense, Demarkus. Foul things are said to lurk in the ruins of Salintu, and none have seen its bleached stones for years. Or if any have, they have not lived to tell the tale."

Martin quietly asked to be excused, so that he could help rebuild his family's home. Kelleth nodded, and the boy flew out the door, racing the last of the day's light.

"Can we count on your help, Demarkus? There will surely be others to travel with you, but we must be patient," the old man said, a note of quiet desperation in his voice.

"Of course, Highest. I pledge my services to the town," Demarkus said, kneeling.

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Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice.
Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00
Agent
Member # 8030
Profile Homepage #12
Shamgar rowed steadily, squinting furiously at the brilliance of the sun as it descended upon the horizon. Sickly fish flocked beneath the vessel, tinted green by the afflicted water. Silence cast its hand over the scene, an eerie effect in the least.

Shamgar hastened his pace, unnerved by the flocks of fish following him. The sun began to radiate anger and power, the water rippled inconsistently at its violence. Fish beneath him swam spasmodically, the reeds swayed dangerously. Shamgar became panicked, a malevolent chant echoed in his ear.

The fishing vessel careened and bucked Shamgar furiously. He slammed into the lake, at the same moment the sun vanished beneath the horizon. The boat plummeted straight down to non-existence while Shamgar flailed his arms frantically. A dark wave heaved him up and hurled him to shore and he blacked out.

---

Several birds pecked at Shamgar's face. He stood quickly, realizing he had no idea of his location. He was several hundred handbreadths from shore, yet a cliff towered over him. The day was young, so he hiked towards the cliff, void of any supplies whatsoever. He was frightened by what happened the previous not, for surely something like that could not occur naturally.

After several hours he caught sight of a village. He ran the rest of the distance where some locals greeted him. They informed him of where he was, Emerald Cliff.

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Decca Records - "We don't like their sound. Groups of guitars are on the way out."
Posts: 1384 | Registered: Tuesday, February 6 2007 08:00
Councilor
Member # 6600
Profile Homepage #13
Michael had made good time, considering the mud and fallen trees. He was looking forward to being in Emerald Cliff again. It was probably the most decent village Michael had ever been in. When he and Magero had visited three, no, four years ago, no one had paid to see Michael. His juggling and singing earned them both a few beers in the tavern, but that was it. Emerald Cliff was some place he could settle down. So it was with excitement that he trudged on. Surely, it was long overdue good luck that had given him freedom so near to a pleasant place.

Then Michael came to the river. A week of constant rain had turned an ordinarily calm stream into a raging, muddy torrent. If there had been a bridge crossing it before, there wasn't one now. Michael had no hope of crossing. So he set off along the bank. He would find a spot to cross sooner or later.

Night fell, and Michael was still trapped on the wrong side of the river. He was tired, scratched by thorns and branches, and running low on water. It was still too wet to light a fire, so he ate the last of the food, climbed into a tree, and wrapped a blanket around him as best he could.

Tomorrow will be better, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

---

Just before dawn, Michael woke up and continued along the river bank. It wasn't long before he saw a huge log stretched across the river. It would serve as a bridge. Fearing to fall in, he crawled across the log. He made it safely to the other side and began following the river back to the road. He wasn't going to risk getting lost. Even if the cliff bordering Emerald Cliff was distinctive, it was still too easy for hunger and tiredness to lead him astray. And if he got lost now, he wouldn't have the strength to find his way back.

So Michael pushed his way through the dense vegetation along the bank until he came to the road. From there, it was a surprisingly easy (though muddy) trudge to Emerald Cliff. He was excited again. Only one more corner to the village, and the tavern, and a fire, and food, and a place to stay the--

Michael rounded the corner and stopped abruptly. Even at dusk, he could see the devastation the storm had caused. Fences and trees were down. Animals were running loose. Houses had collapsed. And the tavern was nothing more than a pile of shattered timber. But the temple was still in good shape, and he figured he could get a meal and a place to stay there, so he stumbled towards it.

---

Dikiyoba.

[ Tuesday, March 11, 2008 16:05: Message edited by: Dikiyoba ]

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Episode 4: Spiderweb ReloadedEpisode 5: Spiderweb Resistance
Posts: 4346 | Registered: Friday, December 23 2005 08:00
Shaper
Member # 7420
Profile Homepage #14
Talbot had been wandering through the Lush Wastes for weeks, yet he was unaffected by the land’s harsh conditions. His people were a hardy, resilient people. He could find water in the strangest places, eat the most bizarre plants and animals, and find shelter in the most inhospitable of locations.

What truly caught him off guard was the land he had come to. Vegetation had become more and more frequent as he traveled in the direction indicated by the Wise Witch. The animals grew softer, boasting fur instead of scales. The trees were bigger, and the strangest part of all was that everything was green. It made him kind of sick to his stomach, and he dearly wished for more comfortable grays and browns. The first people he met were farmers, lamenting over their strange crops. Since Talbot was unfamiliar with what they were growing, he did not understand why they were so disappointed. He tried some, and though it tasted awful and rotten, it was still food, which was much more than they had back in his lands. They lamented over their water, yet it was very similar to the urine his people often resorted to, and what was more, there was plenty of it! What a strange and bountiful land Talbot had come to. Were the people here so jaded as to not be grateful for what they had?

Talbot soon found out that he may never know, for the people there spoke a different language from himself. He approached the first people he saw, a couple traveling down a big road with all their worldly possessions. Were they fleeing from something? Talbot heard that people make war on other people in these lands, he had best be careful. He stood before the natives and inquired about the Spirits. Since they, too, were having hard times, surely they might know something about a possible cure.

*****

Heloise shook her head at the primitive man and turned to her husband, “Poor thing, it looks so lost and hungry. Can we give him something to eat, Abelard?”

Abelard cringed at the smell, the primitive was filthy and wouldn’t stop speaking gibberish, “No! Don’t give him anything, he’ll just keep following us around if we do that. Shoo! Get away from us, you beast!”

*****

The man spoke to Talbot in an irate manner, he didn’t understand. Talbot had been told that the people of these lands were very materialistic, perhaps they wanted something for the information? He didn’t want to give up his precious rocks just yet, so he offered them something he thought they would want more anyway: food. He pulled some dried meat out of his sack and explained to the people that it came from one of the best warriors his village had ever known, his predecessor. They should be honored to receive and eat it.

*****

“Aw, look, he wants to give us food! See, primitives aren’t so bad after all.”

Abelard was still suspicious. He spoke to the strange man slowly and loudly, “You… want… trade?” He offered a fish from their own supplies. “This is pointless, I don’t think he understands.”

*****

Talbot shook his head at the offered animal, some kind of strange oval thing with no arms or claws and creepy eyes, it looked terrible. The man seemed as confused as he was, but took the offered meat graciously. The man eventually pointed down the road. Talbot smiled, was he pointing to where he could find a cure for the Spirits? He must be! Talbot saluted the travelers and continued on his way.

*****

“Silly primitive,” Heloise folded her arms and tilted her head to the side.

Abelard began to move on, “Whatever, he’s Emerald Cliff’s problem now. Hmm, this meat actually smells pretty good. I wonder what kind of animal it’s from.”

*****

By evening Talbot had finally reached what he thought must be his destination. Just like the Wise Witch had said, the people here wore strange clothes, spoke strange languages, the buildings were made out of rocks, and some of the people did indeed live with beasts, strange four legged things with fur. Talbot was disturbed to see such a large village so empty. Where were all the people? Perhaps they were dying out? Tribes died out in the Wastes all the time. No one wanted to speak to him, however, no matter how hard he tried. They made him uncomfortable anyway, so he simply explored.

Then something caught Talbot’s eye. It was a child, but a strangely proportioned one. No, he didn’t look like a child at all, he looked… older. Yet he was much too tiny to be a normal person. Curiosity got the best of Talbot, and he found himself following the little man, trying not to disturb his and he made his way through the village. Talbot stopped when the tiny man entered a large building, seemingly filled with the village’s population. They must be having a meeting with their local Wise Witch or something. So that’s where they all were. Talbot grinned, surely she would be able to give him his next set of instruction regarding the cure for the Spirits! He entered the building.

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You lose.
Posts: 2156 | Registered: Thursday, August 24 2006 07:00
Lifecrafter
Member # 7252
Profile #15
The sun hit the young man in his eyes as he continued walking down the dusty road. I hate this weather. Why did I even chose to go.

The man continued to walk on, unminding of the scenery that beheld the landscape around him. Green, lush forest, the mountains, showing their peaks like crowns, the fields, the fruitful fields and all of these was ignored. I remember now. It was to go away from them. How could I forget that?

Beautiful women patronized the sides of the road, looking at the man, and seemingly, are talking about him. The man continued down the road, ignoring the flirts. Heh. For that fact alone, this should be considered a blessing. Damn over-happy masochists.

The man stopped at an inn by the road. Huh. The Shining Water. I hope they got good ale. I gotta celebrate a little. The man entered the inn, unnoticing of the half-naked beauties that littered it.

"Semi-finest ale please." He inquired the keeper as he sat on the seats beside the counter. The keeper, a grizzled, jolly man, maybe in his fifty's, chuckled and went to get the drink. The man finally surveyed the facilities. Always the same. Is there nothing diferrent? The man discreetly rolled his eyes. The innkeep finally returned with his ale. It was glimmering. The man stared at drink for moments until the keep noticed.

"First time seeing shining ale?" The keep smirked.

"However did you know?" The man said sarcastically. "It's actually my first time out. Well, out by myself without restrictions." The man finally took a swig. It tasted good, and seems it could be better.

"I see you like it. Family secret. Don't ask."

"Heh. And here I am thinking I could open my own." The man said jokingly.

The keep laughed. "I like you. What's your name stranger?"

"Is that a prerequisite in here? You'll be my stalker?" Both of them chuckled. "Davion. Came from Honist."

The keep was slightly surprised by the man's answer. "Now, now. Is that a joke? If it is, it's certainly a good one."

The man pulled out his hand, showing a palm branded with a tatoo that looked like a smiling face. "Not a joke."

"Well, you're not as over-ecstactic like them, as far as I know and you Honist people usually travel in groups."

"The masochists needed groups elsewhere. This particular missionary," The man spits the last word. "is deemed successful of only one member."

"Masochists?" The keep inquired.

"Ever noticed how they always get put themselves in misery by doing the business, no matter how idiotic, of the people around them?"

"Ah."

Davion continued to chug down the now half-empty mug.

"Where are you headed to anyway?" The keep asked.

"Oh some town out in the backwater. Or maybe not in the backwater. They got some problems there."

Another patron went to the keep to ask for more ale. The keep turned his back on Davion, sorting in his menagerie of inn essentials.

"I see. It seems you're headed south. Be careful. You're gonna pass the town of Emerald Cliff. They say that a horrible curse befell on the population." The keep chuckled. "Do you actually be-"

As he turned back to his chatting partner, Davion was nowhere to be seen. The mug was left though. And it's empty.

"The dirty little-"

Davion was walking down the road nonchalantly, still unminding the surroundings. Then the shouting started.

That's my cue. He bursted out on the road. Surprisingly, noone came out, even the innkeeper. Davion was well out of sight of the tavern when stopped to take a breather.

*Huff* Well, that was refreshing. No chasing this time. Davion slumps down on the ground. The drunkards won't even get close to me if they chased. And they're pretty much drooling over the ladies. The keep was pretty nice though. He pulled out a piece of parchment. It's a letter, containing all the information on his job at hand, which was, pretty much, uninforming. All it says is that he must go to the town of Emerald Cliff and find some girl and help her. And try to solve additional problems. The additional problems are who the girl is, what is the girl's problem, and where in the hell's name is Emerald Cliff. Wait. The old fogey said that I'll pass Emerald Cliff if I go down the road. What a stroke of luck. Or not. Quasi-luck. Yeah, that's right. Davion stood up and started walking down the road. The sooner I find the town, the sooner I'll be able to, if possible, solve the problem. Also the sooner I'll return to Honist. Davion sighed. He started his trek, again, to the unknown town. At least he now knows where the town is. Maybe I'll have time to enjoy the scenery.

[ Thursday, March 27, 2008 21:40: Message edited by: Azuma ]

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But after revenge is taken, nothing remains but a painful scar...
You ain't evil until you hear this!
Looking for group to slaughter the world..
Posts: 732 | Registered: Saturday, June 24 2006 07:00
Infiltrator
Member # 4248
Profile #16
The sky was filled with shades of purple and blue, the last signs of the sun disappearing to the horizon. The demon covered in the darkness, watching the people pass by to one of their last safe-havens. The temple was already crowded, even though most villagers had yet to come. There were more, much more of them than last night; the demon guessed that this time, they had come to make a decision.

The demon had listened carefully what the priests had talked during the day and the evening. No volunteers expect for the merchant, Demarkus, had arrived. Even the fisherman the demon had heard about earlier hadn't showed himself. Yet the priests had not given up hope; they had been sure that more would crop up for the time of the new gathering. "Seems like they were right", the demon muttered and cursed under its breath. It caused a few people to shudder and look to the shadows, a cue for the demon to seek another place to hide in.

At least two more people had decided to help Demarkus on his journey; the names the demon had lost to the worried whispers and joyful cheers of the people. It didn't really matter: it had heard when and from where they would set on their journey. The rest it could work out later.

It'll take only a few weeks, Ilumas pondered. Only a few weeks for the curse to end, and then I can go back to hiding. No more humans, no more duties. It only hoped that no unneeded complications would rise up during that time. In a way, it was fortunate that the townspeople had ignored so much of their old legends; they were acting on a hunch, lacking true knowledge of their situation. That way the demon would have plenty of time to intervene.

"...and so it is decided: you will be leaving tomorrow, at noon, from this very temple. Take your time to make your preparations, and please, don't be late", a voice echoed from inside the temple. The demon crawled as close to a window it could to hear the ending words of the priest's speech. It wanted to peer in, to see who it would need to kill, but it dared not to. Unfortunate as it was, candlelight didn't carry the same force as the sun did.

Well, soon it won't matter whether they see me or not, the demon mused. The gathering was about to end, people were already pouring out of its door that had been thrown wide open. The demon hurried back to the shadows, narrowly avoiding the curious gaze of one of the passers-by. It had its own preparations to make, some things it had avoided for too long already. Why life never goes the way I want it to?, it wondered although it knew the answer all too well...

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Life is a neverending carneval where everyone has multiple costumes. I just hope mine are pleasing to the eye.
Posts: 617 | Registered: Tuesday, April 13 2004 07:00
Law Bringer
Member # 6785
Profile #17
Night was falling as Al reached a small village marked as Emerald Cliffs on his map. It didn't look like it deserved a name. The roads were dirt and there didn't appear to be an inn. This was just great.

Al decided to approach the largest building. It appeared to be some sort of temple. The people were mostly gathered there so he would probably find someone to answer his questions.

Al asked a villager, "Where's the inn?"

The village stared at him. "Inn? We don't have an inn. We rarely get strangers here."

"What do you have to drink?" inquired Al. He was running low on his supplies and was saving the good stuff to celebrate his accomplishments when he found the ember flowers.

"There is water in the well, but the curse has made it foul," the village said.

"Water! Water is for cleaning. I meant whiskey, brandy, beer, or even ale."

The village shrugged. "We don't have that here. Maybe the priest can help you."

Just great. He had passed beyond the edge of civilization into the wilds. No alcohol, sob.
Posts: 4643 | Registered: Friday, February 10 2006 08:00
Councilor
Member # 6600
Profile Homepage #18
Michael glanced behind him as he entered the temple. He half-suspected someone was following him; it was probably just exhaustion and shock. He didn't notice that a meeting was just beginning inside. He started to back out before he was noticed, but stopped. There was definitely something out there.

Kelleth spotted Michael and paused in his speech. "Come in, dear boy. It's not safe out there, you know."

"I'm not..." This was a common mistake, but Michael never felt any less awkward about it. Everyone was watching him.

"Hey, I think I remember you," an elderly man wheezed, "You were with that magician. Where is he?"

"Yes. I'm Michael. The midget." He winced--old habits die hard. "Magero... died... during the storm, and most of our supplies were ruined. I... I need food and a place to stay for the night. I can pay." Michael held out a few battered coins.

Kelleth hesitated. Normally, he would never make someone in need pay for kindness. But it was obvious that food was tight and would become tighter. He took the coins. "Please, sit down. Your offering will help us rebuild Emerald Cliff. Martin, fetch this man something to eat."

A few minutes later, Martin brought Michael a small tray of food. Michael sat in a corner while the meeting continued.

---

Dikiyoba.

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Episode 4: Spiderweb ReloadedEpisode 5: Spiderweb Resistance
Posts: 4346 | Registered: Friday, December 23 2005 08:00
Law Bringer
Member # 4153
Profile Homepage #19
Demarkus eyed the villagers as they filed into the temple. They all had a cowed look, like they were ready to accept the trouble that had befallen them. Nowhere did Demarkus see a soul brave enough to try and do a thing. He shuddered at the prospect of journeying to Salintu alone... no, if no one else would volunteer, he would not risk his neck. Better to leave Emerald Cliff and start anew than die risking his neck for cowards.

He reached into his sack and pulled out a small hinged conflagration of timber. Demarkus wrestled with it for a moment, until it finally unfolded into a stool. If he was going to wait for volunteers, he would at least let his legs rest... they ached from lugging his gear to the temple.

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Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice.
Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00
Lifecrafter
Member # 7557
Profile #20
Over his incredibly long life, Jeran had acquired many skills; patience was not one of them. For a man who had fought hundred-foot flame-spewing demons of elemental terror and had been known to kill superior enemies by talking at them until their brains exploded he had an annoying talent of completely losing himself in the spur of the moment. Now was the moment, and the spur was very literal.

The cliff; was. It was a massive V-shaped depression dropping almost vertically downwards for almost a hundred metres as the land fell away to the wilderness of the lowlands. It was ringed by miles of scrawny woodland which sloped strongly downwards as they to met up with the lowlands. However, in a display of true J logic, the traveller had opted for the far harder, but potentially EXTREMELY fast way of descent, which was by climbing down the cliff. Now that he regarded it from several metres down he began noticing the curious little tells-tales, the little hints. This cliff was unnatural; it had been made by something. And that something had either been using a lot of force, or been travelling at several thousand miles an hour and weighing several thousand tons.

And had exploded on impact…

Jeran edged his incredibly precarious way along the narrow outcropping of rock that would lead him downwards. The tiny path had apparently been frequented by goats once, which was why he had not yet become an extremely wide blue splatter on the rocks below. He was about halfway down now, and was it not for the exposed bedrock below him would probably have jumped the rest of the way.

The opportunity arrived in the form of a tinkling by his ear. He turned his head, then looked down. A small rock was bouncing merrily along, dislodging the occasional stream of shale or smashing a sheet of ancient slate. He looked up again.

“Shi-i-i-i…” He croaked, and jumped. The avalanche fell like a force of nature, and indeed it was. On the scale of avalanches, it was quite a poor one, only a few tons of falling rock sliding down the Cliffside. It was however, just enough. Jeran plunged like one of the stones so eager to introduce themselves to him. He had calculated that it would take about ten seconds to reach the bottom, and his hand lashed out at the rockface as he passed minus five, grasping hold of a narrow outcropping. Pain shot through his wrist, but it was mostly from rock burns, Jeran weighed significantly less then standard humanoids. As the shale-storm swept relentlessly towards him he let go again, letting himself drop the last few metres. Once again the weight factor played in his favour, but only slightly. He hit the rock perfectly, but that didn’t stop the shock badly bruising his shoulder and arm. Grunting in pain he lurched out of the way just as the avalanche came thundering down on the spot were he’d been situated less then a second ago.

He pulled himself upright, clutching his damaged arm and swearing. He looked up, and swore again. The cliff was a blind, around it the path stretched gently downwards until it reached the lowlands. Now he actually had to climb upwards to return to the path. At least his injury would heal within a day or so, and his equipment was intact. He snarled an ancient curse at the sky and began climbing.

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*Eyes potential targets*
Posts: 942 | Registered: Sunday, October 8 2006 07:00
Lifecrafter
Member # 7252
Profile #21
Curse that old fogey! "You'll pass Emerald Cliff if you continue that way" my- The ground shook beneath Davion's feet. Not again As the subliminal thoughts left his mind, an unholy amount of mud, rocks, trees, and common forest wildlife came sliding down the mountainside.

Remember Honist. Remember Honist. This is not bad. This is not bad. Davion chanted as he raced down the forested path away from the tumbling juggernaut that is nature. When all seems alright, he tripped down an elevated tree root. He went sprawling down the forest path, crashed into a tree, stood up, ran, and tripped down again. This is not amusing at any point of view. Finally, he regained some sort of balance and fortunately, the carnage that was hounding him finally stopped. Huh. Lucky me. He trudged along the path, trying to get back on the main road. He returned successfully.

A few moments passed, and Davion was still walking to nowhere. Mudded, twigged, and slightly limping, he kept walking. Ale. Ale. Give me ale. He chanted in his mind. It was just a few more walks away when he sees the all too wanted sights of town lights. A town! Sweet taverns awaits me! With an unexplainable energy, he surged through, minding no pain he felt before. After all, the pain he'll be experiencing later will be the pleasurable kind.

Davion arrived at the town. The streets were empty and almost only one building has light but that particular building was bustling with chitter-chatter. A party?! Party means ale! Here I come sweet nectar of the gods for humans. As he entered the building, he was taken aback. Everyone here has their faces straightened. No aura of joy was felt.

"Uh. Ooops. Where's the tavern here? I need some ale." Davion asked.

Everyone looked at him but silence answered him.

"Okay. I'll explain it in the universal language." Davion then started making motions suggesting a drunkard and a particular seen with some quarter-clothed lady.

"Well?" He asked again.

A villager came to him and said that there are no ale, taverns, or quarter-clothed ladies in their town.

"What!? Blasphemy! Every town has one joy place! What town is this anyway!?"

The villager told him that this was Emerald Cliff. Davion was surely shocked but did his best not to show it. Emerald Cliff? That's the name of the town where that girl went. Davion scanned the room. He felt the silence pierce him. I'll keep quiet until I talk to the elder, mayor, leader, tribal leader, whatever about the girl.

"Sorry for that. Heh. Mind if I stay here? I am cold and hungry and thirsty. Are you sure you don't have any ale, or at least some vinegar?"

The villager shook his head and left Davion for the company of the other villagers.

Davion sat down on the floor and slumped on the wall. He took a quick view of the surrounding place. Aside from the villagers, there were three thorns sticking out. A midget. Heh. It's been a while since I saw one. And two old coots. The first coot is an alchemist, judging from the slushing sound in his bag. The other must be some tiwtchy, old guy that collects junk. Davion sighed. This is going to be a long night.

[ Thursday, March 27, 2008 21:39: Message edited by: Azuma ]

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But after revenge is taken, nothing remains but a painful scar...
You ain't evil until you hear this!
Looking for group to slaughter the world..
Posts: 732 | Registered: Saturday, June 24 2006 07:00
Infiltrator
Member # 4248
Profile #22
Once, the cemetery of Emerald Cliff had been an astonishing place; shining white stones had stood in the shadows of large palm trees, decorated with all kinds of flowers one could just find around the Lake of Hopes. A week ago, the demon had seen a passing glance of it in its full glory, and the fairness of the scene had moved some part of its soul that hadn't yet been fully corrupted. But now, the holy ground was in ruins; the wind and the rain had swept away the flowers, and just as the storm had ended, a falling piece of the sky had struck the ground and knocked over the trees and the stones, leaving the cemetery but a twisted mockery of its former being.

In a way, the demon was glad it was so dark already; it would have hated to see the destruction in full detail, knowing that it had been partly responsible for the destruction of something so beautiful. Now, the dark obscured the fallen stones and trees, painting them all with the same dull shades of blue and black. It mercifully prevented the hellspawn from feeling the true hollowness of its victory.

Slowly, the demon made its way trough the torn landscape. It didn't see the runes engraved on the stained stones, but it didn't really have to; it remembered well where Alicia had been buried. The memory of her funeral had been deeply etched in its memory. For three long years the demon had haunted her, making her life hell, foiling all her attempts to prevent her grim destiny. Only at her last moments the girl had managed to lose her tormentor, and then... her disease had gotten her. What a pity.

"Oh, you got so close to the truth. Such a shame for the world to lose someone like you...", the devil muttered as it finally came to the right tombstone. Reluctantly it knelt over the ground and shoved its clawed fingers to the wet ground. Sighing deeply, it started burrowing trough the ground, to find and take back something it should have never given away...

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Life is a neverending carneval where everyone has multiple costumes. I just hope mine are pleasing to the eye.
Posts: 617 | Registered: Tuesday, April 13 2004 07:00
Agent
Member # 8030
Profile Homepage #23
Shamgar thought the village to be very unusual. The same curse had befallen them, but they also seemed eager to have him present. He had asked for food on numerous occasions, but they simply pointed towards a large building atop a hill.

Driven by hunger, he climbed up the incline. The building seemed to be alive with chatter, yet it's architecture was quite ominous. Panting from his exertion, he walked cautiously to the doors and stepped in.

Some men in the corner took interest momentarily, but then redirected their attention to the speaker up front. The reed wall behind him seemed to radiate light, yet he swore there was brazier in the center.

Shamgar listened attentively to the speaker. The subject was about the curse, which caught Shamgar's attention immediately. He listened about the man's proposal to send someone to Salintu. However, Shamgar heard all he needed to know. He left the temple cautiously, in order to avoid upset.

The doors behind him, he walked off, ready to march to Salintu by himself. He certainly didn't walk far, as an external force struck the back of his head. He lay unconscious under the shadow of the temple.

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Decca Records - "We don't like their sound. Groups of guitars are on the way out."
Posts: 1384 | Registered: Tuesday, February 6 2007 08:00
Councilor
Member # 6600
Profile Homepage #24
Michael finished his food, set aside the tray, and listened to Kelleth speak about the curse. He looked desperate for volunteers. Probably desperate enough to go himself, if he hadn't been so old.

As much as Michael liked Emerald Cliff, he certainly wasn't going to risk his neck for strangers. And increasingly superstitious and jittery strangers at that. But there was one thing he wondered.

"If something in Salintu can remove this curse, can it heal anything else?"

Kelleth shrugged. "No one has gone there in generations. All we have is rumors."

"And?"

"There are a few rumors suggesting that the largest temple had a pool with miraculous healing powers. But that was centuries ago, and it is surely in ruins by now."

Michael weighed his options. He could stay in a ruined village and hope for the best. He could leave for another village, but that would probably mean traveling alone without supplies. Or he could volunteer to go to Salintu. The second option was a death sentence. The first option would be tough but manageable--unless, of course, things got worse and the villagers became resentful of needing to feed an extra stranger. And the third option held a very slight chance for a miracle. What if the pool was still intact and what if it could make him normal? That would be worth the risk. And not just normal--if he traveled to Salintu, that would make him a hero to the people of Emerald Cliff. He would get admiring glances instead of stares. That was more than worth the risk. If there were enough people going and they knew the area and were well-supplied, it probably wasn't much of a risk anyway.

"Has anyone volunteered to go?"

"Just Demarkus." Kelleth pointed to a man sitting on a stool with a bag at his feet and a surly look on his face.

"Well. Get a few more volunteers and I shall volunteer too." Michael watched Demarkus carefully to gauge his reaction.

---

Dikiyoba.

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Episode 4: Spiderweb ReloadedEpisode 5: Spiderweb Resistance
Posts: 4346 | Registered: Friday, December 23 2005 08:00

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