Kestril on 21/10/2003 at 21:28
Soft light poured in through stained glass. Colors were lost in weakness of a half moon, and so the small church was bathed in a blue grey that only moonlight can create. The church was of Hammerite creation, but a thick layer of dust and cobwebs told tales of long past abandonment. Had there been any ears to hear they would have been undisturbed. Only a faint rustling of the tree line broke the silence. It was itself a scene of meditative calm that would undoubtedly go unappreciated.
The natural serenity was broken by the slap of a weak hand against the church's oaken doors. Numb fingers clawed at skilled Hammerite etchings on the door's face, the worn leather of a glove interupting the scene of an ancient conflict. The old church doors creaked open sending echoes off the molded stone walls. A darkly clad figure staggered in to the once calm church and in a quick yet obviously afflicted movement pulled the doors shut again. Pulling a heavy brace down into place, the figure locked himself in the Hammerite sanctuary.
Laden steps bounced around the room in faded imitation. A third of the way up the center aisle the figure collapsed. A sword of the far east clattered out of a his gloomy cloak and slid almost mockingly out of reach. Weak hands pawed the floor hoping to drag themselves to the blade, but any strength the figure once had was being sapped away by a cold tile floor. Muscles once hard with tempered strength only hardened with an abused over use.
Sound once again faded from the church. Disturbed leaves and a gradually slowing breath were all the broke the quiet. {I'll finish this later}
{Orignal text-not as good}
*Kestril stumbled into the old church bruised, battered, and most likely broken in some places. Collapsing to the floor, he loses grip on his sword, which clatters across the floor. Attempting to reach for it he finds nothing as it is way beyond his reach. Dragging himself across the floor a trail of blood forms. Stopping to rest Kestril speaks seemingly to the floor as there is no one around.*
So tired. Need to rest. Can't. Need to stay awake. Might die. So cold. The darkness. What could I have found? The labarynth. Couldn't stay. Needed food. Water.
*A unworldly roar broke his rambling. It came from everywhere and passed away into nowhere. Shaking the ground as it went, Kestril was startled into some sense. Pulling a mine from out of his cape he primed it and sent it sliding towards the front door.*
Are you coming for me Mr. Beast? Coming to finish your work? Well, do it then! I'm right here.
*There was nothing. No sound came. He was alone.*
Where are you? Where is everyone else?
*His vision blurred. He caught a glint of light from the blade of his sword. He stared at it. He couldn't help but thinking it was getting brighter.*
No, it's blinding me.
*Then it was dark.*
Okay, there's your prompt...run with it!
Renault on 21/10/2003 at 22:46
When the brilliance finally subsided, there was only the church, Kestril, and The Eye. Hovering in mid-air above the altar, The Eye glanced down at the motionless form of the battered thief.
After calling off the beast, The Eye looked down at Kestril, and spoke:
"You foolish man. Did you really think you could steal from us? Now you will return to it's proper place that which you have taken. Do you understand me? Awake, now!"
Kestril, regaining his sense, yet bewildered, twisted around slowly towards the sound he had just heard. It didn't seem possible, but there it was, the gemstone, hovering. Had it just spoke to him? He suddenly thought of the pouch tied around his waist, and the contents within. He trembeled slightly.
"Yes, I am speaking to you. Your last chance to save your very soul depends on your willingness to repent. Will you return what you have taken?"
Slowly, the rumbling that had disappeared just a few moments before started up again. Except, this time, it came from every door to the ancient church, it sounded like an army was outside the building - fighting, clawing, and he knew all they really wanted was a piece of him.
"Well?" queried The Eye. How do you decide, you silly man?"
ZylonBane on 22/10/2003 at 14:30
How is this an "RPG"? :erm:
Francine on 22/10/2003 at 14:56
The following post is entirely out of character.
Quote:
Originally posted by ZylonBane How is this an "RPG"?It's not a role playing game in the truest sense of the abbreviation. It's more of a coauthored story, with each participant writing a little bit at a time. Such stories are interesting and fun in that they tend to move in unexpected directions because each author has a different idea of where the story should go.
ZylonBane on 22/10/2003 at 16:20
Oh god, it's a "Tell A Story".
theImmortalThief on 22/10/2003 at 18:55
A good example of this kind of role playing is what we did in Clan NBU.
I really don't have time right now or I'd contribute to the story. Maybe later.:)
Hey Kestril! *waves hand*
Macattack on 22/10/2003 at 19:26
Lighten up ZylonBane. If you can't play nice with the other kids, then don't come into their playground. ;)
[I am going to add my $0.02 later today, when I get back from school.]
Renault on 22/10/2003 at 20:02
Hey ZB, here's an idea for you - why not keep your opinions to yourself and/or another thread, and not muck up this one and kill any chance that someone will actually continue the story? :mad: Was your comment really necessary, or do you just like see yourself type?
Any mods out there, might I request that you delete all the above non-story messages?
Acorn on 23/10/2003 at 07:12
{OOC: I'll play a rich person who has a lot of stuff. Thieves beware! :ebil: I might even end up being a bad guy too-haven't decided yet... ;) }
Acorn rode at the head of a small entourage of servants and pack horses contracted to accompany her on the long journey to her new residence. An old residence really, as she had often visited the old manor while her father Sir George of Orwell had been alive. :p Now that he had passed, it was to be hers.
She could have stayed where she had grown up with her mother's people in the great forest lands, and perhaps become an earth priestess as her mother had been. But then her lands here, left un-defended, would probably be coopted by the sprawling outlying suburbs of the city. Or homesteaded by villagers, or "cleansed" of its "evil" earth magics by those self righteous Hammerites!
That could not be!!! She frowned fiercely.
So, she mused, she would reside HERE and woe to any enemy who dared enter these enchanted wilds!!
Rounding the hillside on this dirt road, Acorn's sensitive ears suddenly caught a faint thunder of animal like noise.
"Sounds agitated.." she thought. Had some un-lucky hunter angered a troupe of foraging bears? Acorn reigned in her mount and signaled for the caravan to halt. No use risking her possessions and the lives of the trailsmen.
"Waitsey here." she cautioned them, and drawing her bow she spurred her horse forward.
Past thorn covered thickets and weaving through dark stands of trees plunged her tall dun pony, its long legs and sharp hooves stretching out to eat up the distance. As she neared the area from which the almost cacophonous roaring eminated she signaled the blowing horse to stop with and slithered from its back to creep forward and peer through the brush, parting it with the tips of nimble fingers.
Strange creatures of subteranian shape and form appeared to be attacking a small abandoned Hammerite church, but they did not strive to break the walls and enter to claim what ever it was they were after. They merely beat and clawed upon the entrances intimidatingly.... seeming to be collectively trying to scare some thing... or one.
"Hammers!" She snarled, jumping to the obvious conclusion. And then snorted for good measure. Acorn rose and dusted her knees; then turned to mount her waiting steed. But turning around like that swung the marker stones of the nearby property line into her view. Should this sorcery spread, her own territory would be affected...
"Come on Sneaksy," she said patting the horse's neck, "I saw a few treebeasts a little ways back down the trail. Let us convince them to join the party...."
10 minutes later a new seismic rumble approached the crumbling ruin. 5 Ents following Acorn's charging horse burst into the open. Swiftly, Acorn shot a fire arrow into the nearest dark cave-creature bringing forth a howl of pain as her horse veered off and out of the way of the charging tree beasts now angry at the sight of these foul tresspassers in their woodsey domain.....
Oneiroscope on 24/10/2003 at 04:10
OOC: I thought I might introduce a creation of mine that will be featured in my one-day-to-be-upcoming-again FM: Abiding in Darkness.
BIC:
Meanwhile, many miles south of The City, deep in the stygian darkness of the Bagmoor Keep crypt, something stirred to life. It's limbs were ragged and torn by corruption. It's eyes mere black pits lit by a light perhaps only the damned could see. It's lips had withered into a rictus of savage hatred stretched over yellowed and cracked teeth.
It had no voice, all the being that had once been the servant of Constantine knew was that it's true and eternal master had awoken it from it's black slumber. The creature rose from the pile of corpses that littered the tomb and shuffled painfully to one of the sarcophogi. Soon a wall of mossy stone slid away and the chamber of the Stone was revealed. An ethereal light bathed the servant, revealing tattered finery that long ago had been the disguise which had enabled a child of nature to enter the domocile of a nobleman. The deathless thing which had once briefly been known as "Sir Leif" but who's true name had been merely "Leaf" now gazed with sightless eyes upon the thing which had animated it with pure, undying hatred for all of creation. The Skollus Stone.
"The Eye..." A tiny whisper echoed of the slick walls of the chamber, almost lost in the the seething breath of the lava which surrounded the Stone's pedestal. "The Eye...I...sense it. I must have it. With the eye...vengeance on the creator will at long, long last be mine. After the countless eons...after all the many thousands of millenia...finally I will destroy his precious new world...finally I will have my revenge. You...pagan witch...you will bring it to me...use your magics...influence he who posesses the Eye...bring it to me...bring it to meeee"
