Archive Posted January 30, 2003 Report Posted January 30, 2003 Ringmaster Visitor Posts: 2 (2/20/02 7:18:04 pm) Reply The coming of the Dark -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A flash of lightning, the crack and rumble of thunder, and the rain began to fall. Deep inside the mountain, deep within the depths, this went unheeded. As they looked on, a gasp was all that was heard. From the dark waters it emerged, as fore told in the ancient texts of the Teir’Dal, the dark creature known only as Blexxerruuk surfaced, but for a second. The waters boiled and turned to blackness, it rose to encompass the chamber, so dark that none could see through into its depths. For the first time, these Dark Elves knew true darkness, they were blind. A wail cut through the blackness, a scream of a birthing mother. As foretold, the women with the mark of Innoruuk would give birth as the great creature awakened from its slumber. An evil would be brought fourth, an evil so great would awaken that it would take mortal form. The screaming stopped, and as written the one to give birth would give her life in doing so. There was silence, then the cry of a young babe sounded fourth, but it was not sound all so commonly heard with childbirth. The wise priests of Innoruuk fell to their knees, and gave thanks to their generous master. A gift had been bestowed upon them, and they must offer their thanks, and worship for such an honor. The darkness was cut, by two small beams of red light….His eyes, they gasped, they cut this magical darkness! A voice was heard, though none could hear. A form was seen, though none could see. A decree, an acceptance, thy will be done lord. As he stood, the high priestess look down upon the babe, and smiled. The darkness subsided, and all could see this magnificent brother who lay swathed in a newborn’s ceremonial wrap. “To this day I do Decree, that Exmortis Darkenblade is among us. As foretold in the ancient texts, he will bring darkness where there is light. He will bring shadow where there is sun. He is our savor, he is our Knight of evil. The great doors opened, and for the first time he felt the surface air upon his face. Exmortis Darkenblade, as foretold in the ancient scriptures stepped forward into Norrath, Nektulos forest ancestral home to the Teir’Dal. His eyes scanned the dark horizon, for it is always night here, he closed them and reveled in the feel of the gentle breeze. The guards eyed him with suspiscion, for they are members of the Brotherhood, the warriors and guardians of Neriak and it’s peoples. Their Captain looked up, about to speak, but with one look into his red, calm cold eyes he swallowed the snide remark. He Screamed in agony, the highpreist of Tunare fell to the ground clutching his chest. He dragged in air with a ragged strained breath. “My god, my god it has come to pass.” “Save us, save us.” The acolyte hearing the scream came running into his lord’s chambers, only to find him near death upon the floor. He picked him up, and laid him down upon his bed, and yelled at others for help. “The sleeper has awakened.” He rasped. “We are doomed, the scriptures were true.” With this final, passing statement, the acolyte reeled back in terror. As personal squire to his lord, he had read the ancient secret texts, and to hear this uttered, by one so close to Tunare upon his last breath. “My god, what has been unleashed unto this world. Will Norrath survive..” Cried the young priest. “My god, save us……. Save us.” “Evil hath greatness.” “Evil hath power” “Evil hath taken mortal form”
Archive Posted January 30, 2003 Author Report Posted January 30, 2003 Zephryin Initiate Posts: 3 (2/21/02 3:42:10 pm) Reply ...Famine -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- OOC: I was thinking that we could do a "War", "Pestilence", "Death" thing too; Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Anyway, here's my idea... Bending over the last rows of turnips, Agmot, a peasant, sighs dejectedly. Just months ago, his crop had been bountiful, but now... The sun seemed to barely shine these days, while the unrelenting clouds spewed forth snow, rain, and hail from the skies during what should have been a bountiful harvesting season. The air had become cold and bitter. Most of his animals are dead. His son, whom he desperately needs to help him in the faltering fields, is bedridden with a badly broken leg, and seems sick at heart. They are all hungry. Tired. With barely enough crops to see them through the coming winter beforehand, he had found that rats had been at some of it, forcing him to discard a peck. After mending the storehouse several times, and doing his best to deter the vermin, he isn't sure what he'll do, how his family, how anyone will survive...
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