Lau
01-15-2010, 02:27 AM
I pray this message makes it's way to you for it may be the last chance we have, Collier is under seige by the Horde our scouts failed to return to us with any warning, and our garrisons patrolling the cliffside and river had been ambushed and destroyed, we are at half strength, we lack the weapons to arm the militia and have resorted to crude makeshift attempts at weaponry and armour. I can only pray that our defenses hold long enough.
Your friend
Samuel Stergran III
The Seige has gone on for three weeks now, the food is running low, as is our moral, with but a handful of soldiers and the women and children beginning to outnumber those still capable of fighting I'm afraid that they are losing what little hope we had, I fear the reinforcements will not arrive in time, we have but one option.
I rememberyour warnings my freind, but I simply cannot allow this place to fall there are too many innocent lives at stake.
So for now we pray.
Your friend
Samuel Stergran III
The proud city of Collier, it had been the safe haven for refugees during the long and brutal wars that raged along the borders of Nivec, but that was until the war came pounding at it's walls. Time was short, it had not the supplies to feed every one and not enough soldiers to drive the attackers back, their only saving grace were the bridge and bastions that lay along it's thick stone walls, the hordes masses could do little against this defensebeing pelted with arrows, spears rocks with every approach. Though few speak ill of them for they had no choice in their fate it is sad to say; if not for the flood of refugees the defences would've held, but the grim reality came crushing down upon them, and it weighed heavily upon the hearts of those left alive inside the city walls; that they would starve long before any help came from the capital. The enemy was but a horde of brutes and madmen backed by a leader that few even believed existed but regardless the way they rolled over city after city only a brilliant tactician could've lead them that far and gathered as many as they had. Rumours abound that it was a foreign with nothing at stake in in this war save for a pile of gold and rumours even dared to go as far to say that this mercenary refused payment, never-the-less his schemes were picking the nation appart, for gold or to simply watch the world burn around him who really knows.
Within this town, like many of the Eylesian empire's grand cities a secret lay buried and forgotten, a dark tomb deep beneath the city locked away from any and all it was not a place of death, but marker of past sins, and a symbol to the grandest of Jails; the Black Moon that sits still in it's part of the sky unmoving eternal and ominous, a reminder of what happed nearly a millenia ago.
Demons, beasts, and the divine all of seemingly godlike power rose up and ruled the land plunging it into war, playing games with the lives of mortal men since time immemorial until a much stranger beast appeared trailed by the unknown figure that held it's leash, this beast grew with every life it had taken and it's hunger grew greater as it became more and more of a monster not even these gods could stand toe-to-toe with this shadow. Banding together in the last months of their inevitable fall it seemed almost as if they had chance it was in the capital of Nivec where the strongest of these 'gods' had gathered their power the beast waiting outside the walls like a hungry dog cirling a the tree his prey foolishly climbed up, little did they know that it's master was within the walls of this fortress, he alone slew the gods his pet waiting for him even it had been fooled by this 'being' this 'puppeteer' he chained the beast and harvested the souls that lay trapped in it's flesh it was him who gave rise to the Black Moon a prison of souls that swelled with the power of those locked inside. The beast was slain, the puppeteer disappeared behind the curtain, and the God's that once led the nations of man were gone leaving a shattered and broken world to languish in the legacy left for them.
Most unexpectedly a new world arose from the ashes of the old, the decaying corpses of the old kindoms proved to fertilize the earth for a new one to take hold and grow into a most beautiful existence, and peace seemed to reign over even the inherent greed, and ambitions of man, the past had gone on to teach the futility of war or for those sinacle souls they feared the return of the monster that reared its head during the wars of old a beast that had become known as the Rhistal. The ancient ideologies persisted in many cultures, aswells as many a legend story and rumour, to this very day there are whispers of the 'Puppeteer' the last demon, the last god.
All this was to change upon the seige of Collier, the tombs below were far from forgotten but none ever entered the cursed halls, etched in the stone altars were glyphs each unique, but falling to one commonality; the key was human will a design of the Puppeteer's choosing, when people gather and their wills become desperate their thoughts unite into a single unique aura, this was the fickle nature of the key, the thoughts and feelings that made up the key would decide which cell it would open, and so we come back to the seige of Collier.
All of those within gathered in the square the thunder outside the walls of the barbarian hordes went quiet as the prayers grew in volume, a silences fell as a single voice climbed above all others that of a young boy no older than ten singing a song that not even he knew the words to
'In the time of men when we begin
all there is to meet the end
in his gaze we meet our fate
pray for forgiveness surrender our hate
but my dear friend you should know
the shadow will grow
the shadow will grow'
This pounding melody repeated as the remaining villagers were overtaken by the desire to chant these words, but what was most unfortunate that these words were the ones the resounded within their hearts the oath to a god who's power would've rivaled that of the Rhistal itself if only he wasn't betrayed by his own kind long before the beast rose from the dark. The thoughts that woke this beast were that of hate, that of a will to destroy their enemies, it was the dirge of the death god Thanatos.
With their chant echoing into the sky pulling free a shard of the Black Moon this black spike came crashing down the earth itself shuddering and a ripple of dust reached from the rear flank of the barabarian ranks to the front stopping their advance could in shock, and confusion. As they stared at the spike that had peirced the earth and stood tall behind them, it's smooth glass like surface began to crack, slender jagged trails frantically criss-crossing the entirety of it's form. Peice by peice shards fell from this spike at it's core peicing through even the deepest of balck were glowing white eyes, like a grand finale it ripped itself free revealing it's form to the light of day, a dark imposing figure, it's sleek horns sweeping backwards between tattered wings spread wide stretching out as if to assure his freedom, his black flesh akin to a rough armor while retaining a certain grim beauty, and proud physique, it's faceless stare was more than enough to send a wave of fear rippling through the barbarian ranks. There was no escape Thanatos stood in that path firmly and stepped out from the crater of his arrival wings folding up behind him opening his hands wide his wicked talons shining in the sunlight. The air hung heavy but as he moved forward through the stillness of these awe struck hethens the grass and earth itself seemed to die under his feet and spread outward at an increasing rate. Arms outstrecthed to his sides he expanded his influence, the grass turning black and withering, he pushed this influence forward sweeping it through the barbarian ranks, and panic grew as they began to fall their bodies withering to dust and the wave passed, not a single corpse remained in the wake of this power just barren earth, and black ash.
They didn't even stand a fighting chance against this monster, taking flight he perched upon the highest spire of collier a voice peircing the minds of Collier's citizens "I thankyou for my freedom for this you will live beyond today," his voice seemed to be but a whisper "I am the Death God, and you are now my subjects those of you who wish to leave do so before the sun falls from the sky, those of you that stay I promise you this, you will never fear death for it will never come for you but a price must be paid for this, flesh and obediance, make your decision live, leave or die."
Your friend
Samuel Stergran III
The Seige has gone on for three weeks now, the food is running low, as is our moral, with but a handful of soldiers and the women and children beginning to outnumber those still capable of fighting I'm afraid that they are losing what little hope we had, I fear the reinforcements will not arrive in time, we have but one option.
I rememberyour warnings my freind, but I simply cannot allow this place to fall there are too many innocent lives at stake.
So for now we pray.
Your friend
Samuel Stergran III
The proud city of Collier, it had been the safe haven for refugees during the long and brutal wars that raged along the borders of Nivec, but that was until the war came pounding at it's walls. Time was short, it had not the supplies to feed every one and not enough soldiers to drive the attackers back, their only saving grace were the bridge and bastions that lay along it's thick stone walls, the hordes masses could do little against this defensebeing pelted with arrows, spears rocks with every approach. Though few speak ill of them for they had no choice in their fate it is sad to say; if not for the flood of refugees the defences would've held, but the grim reality came crushing down upon them, and it weighed heavily upon the hearts of those left alive inside the city walls; that they would starve long before any help came from the capital. The enemy was but a horde of brutes and madmen backed by a leader that few even believed existed but regardless the way they rolled over city after city only a brilliant tactician could've lead them that far and gathered as many as they had. Rumours abound that it was a foreign with nothing at stake in in this war save for a pile of gold and rumours even dared to go as far to say that this mercenary refused payment, never-the-less his schemes were picking the nation appart, for gold or to simply watch the world burn around him who really knows.
Within this town, like many of the Eylesian empire's grand cities a secret lay buried and forgotten, a dark tomb deep beneath the city locked away from any and all it was not a place of death, but marker of past sins, and a symbol to the grandest of Jails; the Black Moon that sits still in it's part of the sky unmoving eternal and ominous, a reminder of what happed nearly a millenia ago.
Demons, beasts, and the divine all of seemingly godlike power rose up and ruled the land plunging it into war, playing games with the lives of mortal men since time immemorial until a much stranger beast appeared trailed by the unknown figure that held it's leash, this beast grew with every life it had taken and it's hunger grew greater as it became more and more of a monster not even these gods could stand toe-to-toe with this shadow. Banding together in the last months of their inevitable fall it seemed almost as if they had chance it was in the capital of Nivec where the strongest of these 'gods' had gathered their power the beast waiting outside the walls like a hungry dog cirling a the tree his prey foolishly climbed up, little did they know that it's master was within the walls of this fortress, he alone slew the gods his pet waiting for him even it had been fooled by this 'being' this 'puppeteer' he chained the beast and harvested the souls that lay trapped in it's flesh it was him who gave rise to the Black Moon a prison of souls that swelled with the power of those locked inside. The beast was slain, the puppeteer disappeared behind the curtain, and the God's that once led the nations of man were gone leaving a shattered and broken world to languish in the legacy left for them.
Most unexpectedly a new world arose from the ashes of the old, the decaying corpses of the old kindoms proved to fertilize the earth for a new one to take hold and grow into a most beautiful existence, and peace seemed to reign over even the inherent greed, and ambitions of man, the past had gone on to teach the futility of war or for those sinacle souls they feared the return of the monster that reared its head during the wars of old a beast that had become known as the Rhistal. The ancient ideologies persisted in many cultures, aswells as many a legend story and rumour, to this very day there are whispers of the 'Puppeteer' the last demon, the last god.
All this was to change upon the seige of Collier, the tombs below were far from forgotten but none ever entered the cursed halls, etched in the stone altars were glyphs each unique, but falling to one commonality; the key was human will a design of the Puppeteer's choosing, when people gather and their wills become desperate their thoughts unite into a single unique aura, this was the fickle nature of the key, the thoughts and feelings that made up the key would decide which cell it would open, and so we come back to the seige of Collier.
All of those within gathered in the square the thunder outside the walls of the barbarian hordes went quiet as the prayers grew in volume, a silences fell as a single voice climbed above all others that of a young boy no older than ten singing a song that not even he knew the words to
'In the time of men when we begin
all there is to meet the end
in his gaze we meet our fate
pray for forgiveness surrender our hate
but my dear friend you should know
the shadow will grow
the shadow will grow'
This pounding melody repeated as the remaining villagers were overtaken by the desire to chant these words, but what was most unfortunate that these words were the ones the resounded within their hearts the oath to a god who's power would've rivaled that of the Rhistal itself if only he wasn't betrayed by his own kind long before the beast rose from the dark. The thoughts that woke this beast were that of hate, that of a will to destroy their enemies, it was the dirge of the death god Thanatos.
With their chant echoing into the sky pulling free a shard of the Black Moon this black spike came crashing down the earth itself shuddering and a ripple of dust reached from the rear flank of the barabarian ranks to the front stopping their advance could in shock, and confusion. As they stared at the spike that had peirced the earth and stood tall behind them, it's smooth glass like surface began to crack, slender jagged trails frantically criss-crossing the entirety of it's form. Peice by peice shards fell from this spike at it's core peicing through even the deepest of balck were glowing white eyes, like a grand finale it ripped itself free revealing it's form to the light of day, a dark imposing figure, it's sleek horns sweeping backwards between tattered wings spread wide stretching out as if to assure his freedom, his black flesh akin to a rough armor while retaining a certain grim beauty, and proud physique, it's faceless stare was more than enough to send a wave of fear rippling through the barbarian ranks. There was no escape Thanatos stood in that path firmly and stepped out from the crater of his arrival wings folding up behind him opening his hands wide his wicked talons shining in the sunlight. The air hung heavy but as he moved forward through the stillness of these awe struck hethens the grass and earth itself seemed to die under his feet and spread outward at an increasing rate. Arms outstrecthed to his sides he expanded his influence, the grass turning black and withering, he pushed this influence forward sweeping it through the barbarian ranks, and panic grew as they began to fall their bodies withering to dust and the wave passed, not a single corpse remained in the wake of this power just barren earth, and black ash.
They didn't even stand a fighting chance against this monster, taking flight he perched upon the highest spire of collier a voice peircing the minds of Collier's citizens "I thankyou for my freedom for this you will live beyond today," his voice seemed to be but a whisper "I am the Death God, and you are now my subjects those of you who wish to leave do so before the sun falls from the sky, those of you that stay I promise you this, you will never fear death for it will never come for you but a price must be paid for this, flesh and obediance, make your decision live, leave or die."