A return to Terra

[DL_Snake]

A dark tide of clouds swarm over the lands of Terra. The dust-encrusted earth was scarred and scorched from the recent chaos battles that so often marked the Armageddon Wars of the Archmagi, fearsome and somewhat immortal sorcerors whose words are as law. No mortal may stand up to these Archmagi without fear. Their rule was absolute, only one may challenge the other. Pecking orders were established early in their reincarnations. A precarious balance of magical forces have resulted from the numerous wars waged by these immortal sorcerors. All that is about to change.....

 

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"Nenyaki, hurry up will you? I've still got so many scrolls to copy and bring with me to Terra," called a White-Robed man to his estate seneschal. The White-Robe is preparing for his transit to Terra from his Estate in the Sky.

 

"The last war has sapped too much resources from the White Alliance. I think it time I descended to assist them this time."

 

"Do you think that is wise, my Master? You will lose all your wisdom and memories of your past life. Everything that you have gained from being a neutral party of all this foolishness will have been wasted," cautioned Nenyaki.

 

Although addressing each other as Master and servant, the two have been through aeons together, and were morel ike comrade-in-arms rather than in a submissive role. The White-Robe have always treated his seneschal well, and only occasionally pull rank on his servant.

 

"I understand all that, Nenyaki. Alas, I sense a disturbance in the pattern of things. Something big will happen in this age. The brethren have not descended yet, and they are well pass the usual recuperation time needed to recover. A dark wind of ill aspect is blowing, and I think it is time I returned to Terra to assist the Alliace."

 

"But Master, the Alliance spurned your advice ages ago. Now they too are bestially involved in this senseless war in their pursuit of power and dominance. You are much above-," Nenyaki paused mid-sentence as his Master waved a hand to stop his protestations.

 

"I have heard all that before, Nenyaki. Have I mentioned that you do sound like a nursemaid at time?" he smiled as his seneschal turned red in embarassment. "Be it as it may, will you abandon your companions when they are faced with utter ruination just because of some disagreement over, what, 20 millenia ago?"

 

Nenyaki bowed to his Master's loyalty to his brethren. Armageddon have just passed a few months ago. The more powerful Archmagi have already descended to Terra to continue their ceaseless struggle for power. Paradoxically, each time they descended to Terra, they lose their memories until they have growned sufficient in strength to overcome the spiritual barriers between Terra and their realm. Warring in Terra was an addiction, granted it provides opportunities to discover new powers but at the same time their sense humanity is sapped each time they waged war amongst each other. Nenyaki was worried for his Master and lifelong companion, for he was counted as amongst the wisest and more powerful Archmage in the White Alliance. If he were to descend to Terra, suffer a lost of memory, and killed before regaining his power, he will be lost forever.

 

"Prepare my scrolls, Nenyaki. I will need them after the Descent to regain my powers. Ask the scouts to find me a safe haven to make my descent a secret. It will not do for the Dark Ones to locate me before I am ready," the White-Robe broke into Nenyaki's broodings. THe seneschal bowed and hastened to carry out his Master's bidding.

 

The White-Robe sighed as his companion scurried to the estates to carry out his orders. He understood the risks of returning to Terra. Once, the Wars had overwhelmed him. He was obsessed in it, killing enemies, hunting them down, and bringing himself down to their level. He regained his sanity after joining the White Alliance. He was healed and was given purpose in his existence. Eversince then, he had never returned to Terra but have acted as an Archivist for the Alliance, garnering him much respect and new-found powers by studying tomes of power. In addition to that, he acted as a watchdog for his brethren who are involved in the Great Descent to do battle against their enemies. Recently, in Archmage reckonings, he had been involved in some dispute over the use of their power while in Terra with some younger members of the Alliance. They had preffered a show of Force whereas he was more in favor of the old doctrine of peace-keeping. The younger members' doctrice was decidedly more popular and he have been ignored by most of the Alliance except for some of his oldest friends. And this Age, he too, must participate in the Great Descent to help his comrades.................

Edited June 10, 2004 by DL_Snake

[DL_Snake]

"Allright, Nenyaki. It is time," said the White-Robe gravely. His scrolls and tomes were all readied for his Descent to Terra.

 

Nenyaki appeared from the doorway, his face apprehensive. Muttering to himself, he managed to make some last minute corrections to his Master's belongings. Once his Master have Descended successfully, the seneschal will track him and bring his Master's belongings to join him. His role as seneschal involves him joining his Master and help to facillitate his Descent. Once there, his tenure as seneschal would have ended, unless he chooses to continue serving his Maste after his Descent.

 

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In Terra....

 

Clear blue skies bled red.

 

Lightning flashed continuously, mighty and fearsome.

 

Thunder roared and peace shattered.

 

Clouds roiled but rainless.

 

The earth quaked and creatures trembled.

 

Work stopped, weather froze.

 

An Archmage has completed a Descent.

 

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Somewhere in the southern continent...

 

"Dante! Attend me at once!"

 

An old Lich, gaunt with paper-like skin, hastened to present himself to his ruler and Master. "Your will, Master?"

 

"There has been a Descent. Sendt out your Reavers, find him. Bring him to me."

 

Dante bowed and excused himself.

 

Left alone, the leader of the Dark Alliance clenched a blad-clad fist in front of his face. His grim visage was covered by pure black metal as was the rest of his frame. Glowing red eyes regarded the fist.

 

"You Descend at last, my old foe. I have awaited your arrival for aeons. I will have my vengeance," Valgarna, self-styled ruler of the Southlands, leader of the Dark Alliance. spoke with venom. Using arts unknown to the rest of his brethren, he had managed to avoid the memory loss involved with a Descent. As such, his prowess have grown through each War, putting him at a distinct advantage over the other Archmagi, including those of his own Alliance. Reluctant to show his power to the rest of Terra, he had slowly but surely expanded on his powers and was now confident of dominating Terra within his dark shroud.

 

"This time, you will not elude me. I will hold your soul in my hands and I will crush you!" Servants scuttled out of his way as he made his way to the dungeons. Passing great caverns of fire used as instruments of torture, also known as Dante's Inferno, he made his way to a special cell. Inside, a man hung naked by his hands looked up. Holding himself erect eventhough half covered by blood and grime, the Elven Archmage, Tay, glared at Valgarna.

 

"Greetings, Tay. Once again we meet. I hope the acoomodations are to your liking? No? Too bad for you then," Valgarna chuckled. "Now tell me, where can I find the headquarters of your cursed White Alliance?"

 

"You can continue to ask everyday, Valgarna. But if you think you will get the truth from me, you are sadly mistaken!" Tay spit at Valgarna, who barely flinched.

 

"Very well, we shall have it you way," said Valgarna. He stepped back away from his prisoner and motioned to his torturers. Soon, the sounds of pain and anguish reverberated across the dungeons as they applied their craft on the prisoner Archmage...

Edited June 10, 2004 by DL_Snake

[DL_Snake]

Jhanin wiped the sweat off his brow as he took a needed break from his toil. The slender youth have been ploughing his adoptive father's field for half a day and was waiting for his adoptive brother to finish his part of the field. The pair went everywhere together, to work, back home, to town and everywhere else. Where one is located, the other is definitely less than a minute's call away.

 

"Oy, Jhanin! I'm all done. Let's head home," a call came from across the field. Jhanin looked up and smiled. Kartov, his brother in all but name, was walking towards him in brisk steps. Roughly the same age, the two were very unalike. Whereas Jhanin was slender Kartov was beefy. Jhanin was good-looking and well sought after in the village while Kartov was homely. And the most distinct feature was that Jhanin is most definitely not human, he had the pointed, lobless ears that was the hallmark of the Elven race and their grey eyes. Kartov's parents had found the infant in the neighboring woods and promptly adopted him without hesitation, even giving him a Man name.

 

Kartov beamed at Jhanin as he reached the young Elf. "Hey, I bet mum must have had a feast prepared today."

 

"A feast? Whatever for?" asked the surprised Elf. Their family wasn't very well off and they don't usually have treats.

 

"It's your Founding Day, stupid! You joined us today 16 years ago remember? And by our standards, you're also officially an adult today!" declared Kartov while messing up Jhanin's hair. He was very fond of his brother and each would do anything for the other.

 

Jhanin grinned as they began their journey home. He had totally forgot what a special day this is. In their village, when one turned 16, one was considered an adult and will be allowed to free run of the village. Most youngsters will immediately visit the village inns and partake in the free-flow of ale and wine.

 

"Jhanin, watch out!" cried Kartov as he pulled his brother into the undergrowth lining the trail they were travelling on. Gesturing urgently for silence, Kartov pointed upwards.

 

Dutifully, the Elf looked up and almost shouted out loud. The sky was filled with Gargoyles. Fearsome creatures, they do not usually trouble Men unless under their Master's bidding.

 

Kartov nudged Khanin and mouthed the word Home. The latter gave a nod and the duo raced back to their village. Over the horizon, they could see black smoke billowing across the sky.

 

The slim Elf reached their village first, his slight frame allowing him to be quicker. Freezing in place, his grey eyes took in the slaughter and carnage that had demolished his home. Houses laid in ruins, body parts strewn all over the blood-soaked earth, carts and trams were burning and animals looked half-eaten. Gasping for air in the smoke-filled ruins, he failed to notice a huge frame appearing at his left.

 

"Jhanin, duck!"

 

Quick as thought, Jhanin threw himself onto the ground and was nearly decapitated. A lingering Gargoyle had lain in wait and attacked the Elf.

 

"Elf-boy, I shall enjoy eating your heart when you die!" it snarled.

 

"Not over my dead body!" shouted Kartov as he swung his pitchfork at the 7 foot tall creature. Without any apparent effort, the Gargoyle caught the wooden stick and broke it with just one hand. It leered.

 

"Get out of here Kartov!" cried Jhanin as he rolled away from under the Gargoyle. He ran towards the remainings of the village to hide. Kartov, meanwhile, took this chance to break past the monster and duck for cover behind an overturned wagon.

 

"You cannot hide from me. I can SMELL your fear!" The creature threw the wagon aside with a grunt and stumbled backwards as Kartov used the remnants of his pitchfork as a spear and lunged it at the creature's torso. The Gargoyle howled in pain and anger as the shaft penetrated its hide. It backhanded the young man and Kartov nearly lost consciousness as he flew through the air and landed on the ground a few feet away. Menacingly, the Gargoyle slowly walked towards Kartov, who was still trying to catch his breath.

 

"AUGH!"

 

The Gargoyle screamed loudly as Jhanin appeared as if from nowhere and buried a hatchet into the area between its wings. Swinging itself wildly around it snarled at Jhanin, "For that, you will die a slow, lingering death!"

 

"I'll consider your words if you survive first, you foul beast!" Jhanin cried as he swung an axe at the Gargoyle's head. Metal encountered tough hide and Jhanin could feel the impact of the flow through his bones. Clenching his teeth, he swung again, and again, and again until Kartov's voice broke through his mad haze.

 

"Jhanin, it's dead! Come of it. That's enough"

 

Panting from his exertion, the young Elf looked at the mangled corpse of the now dead Gargoyle, and turned his gaze to his destroyed home. Tears filled his eyes as he fell to his knees, sobbing while his adoptive brother looked on....

Edited June 11, 2004 by DL_Snake

[DL_Snake]

Two hooded men, beggars from the way they shambled by and their torn cloaks, requested entry into the city of Haljain. Sergeant Garz, a scarred veteran of many wars, now on guard duty, was inclined to ignore them. On closer inspection, one appeared to have dusky blonde hair, and was slight in figure. The other was not visibily distinguishing. He decided to challenge them, lately the vice market have been out of control.

 

"Ahoy there. What brings two travelers in such a dismal state this late at night?"

 

The stocky one answered, "We have endured a long journey from our village down south, sir. We haven't eaten for a day. Please aid us."

 

Garz frowned. He didn't sound like a pimp, he most certainly did not carry himself like one. Either he was what he said, or he was a damned good actor.

 

"Well, be that as it may, but let's have a talk with that lass you have there with you first, if you don't mind. There's been an influx of whoring lately in Haljain."

 

The slight one chuckled. Garz frowned further at the sound. It was musical, enchantingly so.

 

"I think you will not find any whores here tonight, master sergeant," remarked the grinning Jhanin, throwing back his cowl. "We're really in need of food and rest, sir. I hope it wouldn't be too troublesome for you to let us past."

 

Garz was feeling pretty embarrassed by now and was about to let them pass by without another exchange of words when Jhanin lurched forward and leaned heavily on him.

 

"Also, if it isn't too much trouble, I seem to be unable to go anywhere right now," he whispered breathlessly to Garz as he passed out.

 

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When Jhanin roused himself, he caught sight of Kartov dozing beside his bed in an uncomfortable chair. The pair were set upon by bandits midway to the city and the Elf had suffered a gash at his ribs. The bandits have broken off suddenly and Jhanin had passed out. He regained consciousness as they neared Haljain. Sergeant Garz ofered his place for them to abide until Jhanin gets better. Kartov was updating his brother of the situation as Garz entered the room.

 

"I am in your debt, sir," croaked Jhanin weakly.

 

Garz waved away the comment, "Nonsense. My son are all in the army, you two are about the same age and the wife's glad to have someone to fuss over." Garz bent ldown and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Besides, it is I who am in your debt, you saved me for two day's worth of nagging," he continued with a wink. All three laughed at that. Jhanin felt safe for the first time in weeks. The moment he was able, he and his brother will bring their case to the magistrate. After awhile, Jhanin, exhausted from his loss of blood, drifted back to sleep......