Omikron
Serf
- Local time
- Today 8:09 PM
- Messages
- 9
Hi all, I bid you welcome to this, my depository and a doorway to the weird and wonderful adventures that circulate within the midst of my overactive imagination.
First and foremost, before we get to the specifics of the ideas circulating round in my head, perhaps a little bit about me and what I'm looking for would help?
1) I tend to write quite long, detailed posts. For that reason expect me to post less frequently, but post with a lot of detail and characterisation. Don't expect daily posts, and definitely don't expect multiple posts a day, however I will strive to post every 1-2 days where I can.
2) Although I do enjoy a good romantic subplot, I'm keen to stress that I do not do romance for the sake of romance, and it is not going to be the main focus of the plot. I'm here for the heroic and fantastical roleplay and the tales of heroic derring-do. If a romance subplot should form from that great, but it needs to make sense in the context of the roleplay and the characters. Do not expect me to force in a ham-fisted romance arc if it doesn't make sense.
3) If a romance should develop, it will go to "fade to black". Its a hard no to smut from me as its just not my style and I'd be extremely uncomfortable with that sort of writing - no exceptions on this, sorry.
4) If, like me, you thrive on heroic and fantastical tales similar to what you would find in a novel or movie then I think we're going to get on just fine. That said I would expect a role play partner who's focus and enthusiasm to be on collaborative storytelling and world-building. I'm hoping to find someone willing to go to that level of detail.
5) If it's not working out just tell me rather than dropping it — I'm more than understanding when it comes down to that and I am also happy to pledge that same honesty. Communication is always the key to a roleplay working and as long as we are that then I see no reason why this can't be seen through to a conclusion.
Below I have provided an overview of some role-plays I have in mind. These are overarching storylines that the role-play will take place within. I include no character details as part of this, instead what I would ask is you have a look at the proposed plotlines, and if there is something in there that you like the sound of, shoot me a PM and we can discuss character concepts from there. If, from there, we agree that there's a good match for the roleplay we can move forward with it.
Welcome to Byhaven, a small frontier town that lies at the edge of the known world. Not just against the goblins and the orcs that make this desolate frontier their home, but against the harshest of conditions these hardy folk not just survive, but thrive in this place of neverending winter. In these most desolate of lands, the brave men and women of all races that make up the small villages dotted across the landscape make their living, and each day they survive is testament to their courage and hardiness.
You are children of these frontiersmen and women. You are the next generation, and here in Byhaven you have never known anything but the chill, frozen winds of the north, and the eternal snows of this perpetually frozen hinterland. Yours is not a bad life, anything but. Despite the adverse conditions, yours is a life of idyllic, yet hardworking peace. Sheltered from the worst excesses of the frontier by the forest on one side, and the river on the other side, the town itself is a friendly, welcoming one.
It is not the sort of place that you would choose to leave voluntarily, yet even now, events elsewhere spiral out of control. Fate will soon play its hand, and you will be caught up in events that are far beyond your control -- soon you and your friends will be forced to leave your sheltered home and thrust out into this harsh, frozen world beyond -- where each day will be a fight against the elements themselves for survival. And when mother nature itself is against you -- let alone the twisted, misshapen monstrosities that make their home in this far-reaching corner of the world, what chance do you have?
Far, far under the snow, trapped in its prison of ice, a dark presence begins to stir. Consciousness comes to it slowly, as this being wakens from its slumber. And it remembers. It remembers shadowy echoes of a world left long behind, another age when mortalkind wielded mighty magicks and fearsome powers unremembered now. Those times are long gone, and humanity now is nothing but an empty, soulless fragment of what it once was. It moves, and as it does tendrils of rot and decay probe outwards from its wakening mass.
Soon, the bringer of the dark will walk the world once more, and the world will tremble at its coming.
Legends tell of a lost city that lies shrouded at the edge of consciousness itself. This lost realm of mirrors and shadows blinks into existence once every thousand years, forming into shape and substance where it was once both formless and ethereal for three days and three nights.
For three days and three nights this city of no name appears, allowing those clever and resourceful enough to find its shadowy walkways the ability to enter its dark and ethereal passageways. There is nobody alive who has ever seen the inside of this city, yet written records from a time before speak of a place where the laws of time and physics do not apply. They speak of a bizarre and twisted realm of floating castles and labyrinthine upside down streets. Time does not exist in this place, seconds and minutes forever hanging frozen inside a realm that defies reality — a realm of both dreams and nightmares.
Yet this city that lies at the heart of yesterday holds something unspeakably dark inside of it. The city is alive, in its own way, and it reaches out to ensnare certain unlucky souls to be caught inside of its shadowy embrace. These poor unfortunates are absorbed into this city of dreams and nightmares, never to be seen again.
You are part of a duo of experienced adventurers. In your career you have seen many many things both good and bad. The job that you took on was a simple one, to escort a merchant caravan safely through the mountain passes to its destination.
Little do you, or anyone, realise that it has been almost a thousand years to the day when a nameless city that lay at the heart of yesterday was last summoned to the world. The time is soon upon us again, and the dark city has already begun to call to its chosen victims.
Soon the city will be here, and all trails lead to its shadowy depths and the dark truth that lies inside of it....
Hopefully I haven't scared anyone off — if there is something above that catches your eye then by all means shoot me a message.
First and foremost, before we get to the specifics of the ideas circulating round in my head, perhaps a little bit about me and what I'm looking for would help?
1) I tend to write quite long, detailed posts. For that reason expect me to post less frequently, but post with a lot of detail and characterisation. Don't expect daily posts, and definitely don't expect multiple posts a day, however I will strive to post every 1-2 days where I can.
2) Although I do enjoy a good romantic subplot, I'm keen to stress that I do not do romance for the sake of romance, and it is not going to be the main focus of the plot. I'm here for the heroic and fantastical roleplay and the tales of heroic derring-do. If a romance subplot should form from that great, but it needs to make sense in the context of the roleplay and the characters. Do not expect me to force in a ham-fisted romance arc if it doesn't make sense.
3) If a romance should develop, it will go to "fade to black". Its a hard no to smut from me as its just not my style and I'd be extremely uncomfortable with that sort of writing - no exceptions on this, sorry.
4) If, like me, you thrive on heroic and fantastical tales similar to what you would find in a novel or movie then I think we're going to get on just fine. That said I would expect a role play partner who's focus and enthusiasm to be on collaborative storytelling and world-building. I'm hoping to find someone willing to go to that level of detail.
5) If it's not working out just tell me rather than dropping it — I'm more than understanding when it comes down to that and I am also happy to pledge that same honesty. Communication is always the key to a roleplay working and as long as we are that then I see no reason why this can't be seen through to a conclusion.
Below I have provided an overview of some role-plays I have in mind. These are overarching storylines that the role-play will take place within. I include no character details as part of this, instead what I would ask is you have a look at the proposed plotlines, and if there is something in there that you like the sound of, shoot me a PM and we can discuss character concepts from there. If, from there, we agree that there's a good match for the roleplay we can move forward with it.
Here we are, at the edge of the world,
Here we stand, deep in a frozen wonderland,
This icy tapestry, it sings to us,
It tells us here we are, we are alive,
And at the edge of the world, we shall live, and we shall love.
Here we stand, deep in a frozen wonderland,
This icy tapestry, it sings to us,
It tells us here we are, we are alive,
And at the edge of the world, we shall live, and we shall love.
Welcome to Byhaven, a small frontier town that lies at the edge of the known world. Not just against the goblins and the orcs that make this desolate frontier their home, but against the harshest of conditions these hardy folk not just survive, but thrive in this place of neverending winter. In these most desolate of lands, the brave men and women of all races that make up the small villages dotted across the landscape make their living, and each day they survive is testament to their courage and hardiness.
You are children of these frontiersmen and women. You are the next generation, and here in Byhaven you have never known anything but the chill, frozen winds of the north, and the eternal snows of this perpetually frozen hinterland. Yours is not a bad life, anything but. Despite the adverse conditions, yours is a life of idyllic, yet hardworking peace. Sheltered from the worst excesses of the frontier by the forest on one side, and the river on the other side, the town itself is a friendly, welcoming one.
It is not the sort of place that you would choose to leave voluntarily, yet even now, events elsewhere spiral out of control. Fate will soon play its hand, and you will be caught up in events that are far beyond your control -- soon you and your friends will be forced to leave your sheltered home and thrust out into this harsh, frozen world beyond -- where each day will be a fight against the elements themselves for survival. And when mother nature itself is against you -- let alone the twisted, misshapen monstrosities that make their home in this far-reaching corner of the world, what chance do you have?
-------------------------------------------------
Far, far under the snow, trapped in its prison of ice, a dark presence begins to stir. Consciousness comes to it slowly, as this being wakens from its slumber. And it remembers. It remembers shadowy echoes of a world left long behind, another age when mortalkind wielded mighty magicks and fearsome powers unremembered now. Those times are long gone, and humanity now is nothing but an empty, soulless fragment of what it once was. It moves, and as it does tendrils of rot and decay probe outwards from its wakening mass.
Soon, the bringer of the dark will walk the world once more, and the world will tremble at its coming.
From the sunless world,
Your mirror is black, only a copy stares back,
At a slave of brave new world,
By a carrion,
Lost in the maze,
The real and human feel,
Feast your eyes on the black mirror,
Feed the beast, join the gathering, tell a tale,
Feast of fears is drawing nearer,
Beyond the human horizon,
Something terrifying sleeps
Your mirror is black, only a copy stares back,
At a slave of brave new world,
By a carrion,
Lost in the maze,
The real and human feel,
Feast your eyes on the black mirror,
Feed the beast, join the gathering, tell a tale,
Feast of fears is drawing nearer,
Beyond the human horizon,
Something terrifying sleeps
Legends tell of a lost city that lies shrouded at the edge of consciousness itself. This lost realm of mirrors and shadows blinks into existence once every thousand years, forming into shape and substance where it was once both formless and ethereal for three days and three nights.
For three days and three nights this city of no name appears, allowing those clever and resourceful enough to find its shadowy walkways the ability to enter its dark and ethereal passageways. There is nobody alive who has ever seen the inside of this city, yet written records from a time before speak of a place where the laws of time and physics do not apply. They speak of a bizarre and twisted realm of floating castles and labyrinthine upside down streets. Time does not exist in this place, seconds and minutes forever hanging frozen inside a realm that defies reality — a realm of both dreams and nightmares.
Yet this city that lies at the heart of yesterday holds something unspeakably dark inside of it. The city is alive, in its own way, and it reaches out to ensnare certain unlucky souls to be caught inside of its shadowy embrace. These poor unfortunates are absorbed into this city of dreams and nightmares, never to be seen again.
***
You are part of a duo of experienced adventurers. In your career you have seen many many things both good and bad. The job that you took on was a simple one, to escort a merchant caravan safely through the mountain passes to its destination.
Little do you, or anyone, realise that it has been almost a thousand years to the day when a nameless city that lay at the heart of yesterday was last summoned to the world. The time is soon upon us again, and the dark city has already begun to call to its chosen victims.
Soon the city will be here, and all trails lead to its shadowy depths and the dark truth that lies inside of it....
At the dawn of the Last Age, the world we live in now was born out of the destruction of the planet we once called Earth. As the missiles fell, as the nuclear blast destroyed all that was left of a dying world, a chosen few were selected to survive. These chosen were to lead us into a new age. They were the genesis of what would come to be known as Ansolera.
Many countless millennia onwards, it has all come full circle. Ansolera is slowly dying, and the chosen will lead a handful of survivors into the dawning of a new age -- the Final Age.
The most glorious Age of them all.
A millennia has passed since the Earth once known. The world of Ansolera is one that is barely recognisable from the one from before - this Earth spoken of in tall tales and legend.
The majority of the world's population is dead, victims of a virulent plague carried by the mutated wielders of the magic arts. Through the corruption of the magic, these carriers unleashed a deadly torrent of death and destruction upon the unsuspecting inhabitants of the world.
Magic is now illegal. Wielders of magic are hunted down and exterminated upon the first manifestation of their powers. This intolerance has extended to all users of magic. The wizards are no more, and their ancient keeps and towers torn down with the ignorance and hatred of so-called goodly folk who brand all users of magic as the same.
Far, far away, in the desolate North, a fell presence stirs. A terrible fragment of an ancient evil, one thought long lost and dead in the annals of time long gone by wakes once more..... Soon, its shadow will fall across the remnants of the land. Echoes of its power and terrible majesty have already been felt -- sightings have been seen of the dead rising again to walk the earth, mindless monstrosities infused by the dark essence of something incomprehensible. Far away from civilised lands, savage orcs gather under the banner of a warlord.
Soon the world will cry a river of blood.
Here, where this all began -- this is where it will all end. Echoes of a time long past, come back again.
For the chosen, blissfully unaware of what is unfolding around them in the world at large, sheltered within the safe and sleepy Edhel, life is about to change forever.
Shadows gather around Edhel, and a dark stranger rides towards the village.....
Many countless millennia onwards, it has all come full circle. Ansolera is slowly dying, and the chosen will lead a handful of survivors into the dawning of a new age -- the Final Age.
The most glorious Age of them all.
A millennia has passed since the Earth once known. The world of Ansolera is one that is barely recognisable from the one from before - this Earth spoken of in tall tales and legend.
The majority of the world's population is dead, victims of a virulent plague carried by the mutated wielders of the magic arts. Through the corruption of the magic, these carriers unleashed a deadly torrent of death and destruction upon the unsuspecting inhabitants of the world.
Magic is now illegal. Wielders of magic are hunted down and exterminated upon the first manifestation of their powers. This intolerance has extended to all users of magic. The wizards are no more, and their ancient keeps and towers torn down with the ignorance and hatred of so-called goodly folk who brand all users of magic as the same.
Far, far away, in the desolate North, a fell presence stirs. A terrible fragment of an ancient evil, one thought long lost and dead in the annals of time long gone by wakes once more..... Soon, its shadow will fall across the remnants of the land. Echoes of its power and terrible majesty have already been felt -- sightings have been seen of the dead rising again to walk the earth, mindless monstrosities infused by the dark essence of something incomprehensible. Far away from civilised lands, savage orcs gather under the banner of a warlord.
Soon the world will cry a river of blood.
Here, where this all began -- this is where it will all end. Echoes of a time long past, come back again.
For the chosen, blissfully unaware of what is unfolding around them in the world at large, sheltered within the safe and sleepy Edhel, life is about to change forever.
Shadows gather around Edhel, and a dark stranger rides towards the village.....
In the ageless time before the dawn of history, there was a war in heaven. In desperation, the lords of light severed the black spirit of the dark god Izrador, casting him out of the celestial kingdom.
The gods succeeded in vanquishing their brother, but Izrador corrupted their magic and turned their victory against them. As the fallen gods spirit was severed from his physical form, so too was the celestial kingdom severed from all contact with the material realm. The lords of light discovered that they could no longer commune with their mortal children. This cataclysm shook the foundations of the world and came to be known as the Sundering.
The dark god fell to the earth, his foul essence staining the land with its evil shadow. Weakened and bodiless, Izrador retreated to the ice and cold of the far north. There he slumbered, slowly recovering his strength and dreaming of vengeance across aeons of time. Empires were built and crumbled to dust, races were born and died, and the Shadow in the North grew deeper and darker.
Three times the dark god rose, and threatened the nations of Aryth with iron and fire. The first time he was defeated by a proud host of elves, dwarves and Dornish men lead by Aradil the Witch Queen.
The second time, races of good held the Shadow off long enough for aid to come from an unlooked for ally. By the time of the third rising, the free peoples of Eredane were battered, bitter and distracted by their own infighting as well by the insidious corruption sown by the dark god's spies over the years. Four of the land's greatest heroes fell prey to his dark promises and betrayed their people, leading his hordes from the north, claiming their title – the Night Kings.
This time, the dark god won.
The dwarven clans were broken and retreated to their holdfasts deep within the earth. The elves withdrew into their fast and ancient forest, abandoning all to the Shadow. The Dorns, tamed by a power from across the sea in the Second Age were betrayed from within and fell swiftly.
One hundred years have passed since the Shadow fell. The elder races – those of a good heart and fey ancestry who have battled Izrador for millennia – are being systematically hunted down and exterminated. The great forest of Erethor has become an island of light in a darkening world, its elven keepers fighting a never-ending battle against besieging hordes of orcs, giants and goblinoids. The surviving dwarves clans have locked themselves in their mountain holdfasts, and the streets of once-proud subterranean cities have become meat grinders for the orcs who are sent in to root them out.
The lands of men are ruled with an iron fist by the minions of the Shadow. Cities lie in ruins, and the commoners in isolated towns lock the gates against the darkness each night. Literacy, magic and weapons are illegal, and ignorance spreads across the land like a terrible plague.
Into this world you arrive, heroes in a land that neither wants nor needs them.
No one race or culture has the might to stand against Izrador and his foul legates. The dwarves are valiant, but caged in their mountains. The elves are skilled, but have neither the numbers nor the resources to fight off the orc hordes forever. Yet there are some few who would join their knowledge and skills, the better to fight the Shadow that has fallen over both peoples. And those few are hunted.
You, inexperienced rebels in the fight against Izrador and his lieutenants, the deadly Night Kings, become the unintended recipients of a valuable prize, the unwilling charges of a deadly quest. The forces of the Shadow have uncovered a prize of their own, however and given it to one of their most devious champions. You must elude this tireless pursuer and reach sanctuary a continent away, lest you fall prey to the Crown of Shadows.
The first challenge is for you to learn to simply trust and depend on each other. Since you are in a land of Shadow, ruled by the orcs, you are strangers to each other and have no idea who could secretly be an agent of Izrador. Then, you must make your journey with little experience, minimal resources and no support, crossing dangerous lands occupied by enemy forces and in which you are strangers and proscribed outlaws. And above all else, you are racing against time, and one of the most cunning and dangerous adversaries you will ever meet – the being known only as the Hunter.
The gods succeeded in vanquishing their brother, but Izrador corrupted their magic and turned their victory against them. As the fallen gods spirit was severed from his physical form, so too was the celestial kingdom severed from all contact with the material realm. The lords of light discovered that they could no longer commune with their mortal children. This cataclysm shook the foundations of the world and came to be known as the Sundering.
The dark god fell to the earth, his foul essence staining the land with its evil shadow. Weakened and bodiless, Izrador retreated to the ice and cold of the far north. There he slumbered, slowly recovering his strength and dreaming of vengeance across aeons of time. Empires were built and crumbled to dust, races were born and died, and the Shadow in the North grew deeper and darker.
Three times the dark god rose, and threatened the nations of Aryth with iron and fire. The first time he was defeated by a proud host of elves, dwarves and Dornish men lead by Aradil the Witch Queen.
The second time, races of good held the Shadow off long enough for aid to come from an unlooked for ally. By the time of the third rising, the free peoples of Eredane were battered, bitter and distracted by their own infighting as well by the insidious corruption sown by the dark god's spies over the years. Four of the land's greatest heroes fell prey to his dark promises and betrayed their people, leading his hordes from the north, claiming their title – the Night Kings.
This time, the dark god won.
The dwarven clans were broken and retreated to their holdfasts deep within the earth. The elves withdrew into their fast and ancient forest, abandoning all to the Shadow. The Dorns, tamed by a power from across the sea in the Second Age were betrayed from within and fell swiftly.
One hundred years have passed since the Shadow fell. The elder races – those of a good heart and fey ancestry who have battled Izrador for millennia – are being systematically hunted down and exterminated. The great forest of Erethor has become an island of light in a darkening world, its elven keepers fighting a never-ending battle against besieging hordes of orcs, giants and goblinoids. The surviving dwarves clans have locked themselves in their mountain holdfasts, and the streets of once-proud subterranean cities have become meat grinders for the orcs who are sent in to root them out.
The lands of men are ruled with an iron fist by the minions of the Shadow. Cities lie in ruins, and the commoners in isolated towns lock the gates against the darkness each night. Literacy, magic and weapons are illegal, and ignorance spreads across the land like a terrible plague.
Into this world you arrive, heroes in a land that neither wants nor needs them.
No one race or culture has the might to stand against Izrador and his foul legates. The dwarves are valiant, but caged in their mountains. The elves are skilled, but have neither the numbers nor the resources to fight off the orc hordes forever. Yet there are some few who would join their knowledge and skills, the better to fight the Shadow that has fallen over both peoples. And those few are hunted.
You, inexperienced rebels in the fight against Izrador and his lieutenants, the deadly Night Kings, become the unintended recipients of a valuable prize, the unwilling charges of a deadly quest. The forces of the Shadow have uncovered a prize of their own, however and given it to one of their most devious champions. You must elude this tireless pursuer and reach sanctuary a continent away, lest you fall prey to the Crown of Shadows.
The first challenge is for you to learn to simply trust and depend on each other. Since you are in a land of Shadow, ruled by the orcs, you are strangers to each other and have no idea who could secretly be an agent of Izrador. Then, you must make your journey with little experience, minimal resources and no support, crossing dangerous lands occupied by enemy forces and in which you are strangers and proscribed outlaws. And above all else, you are racing against time, and one of the most cunning and dangerous adversaries you will ever meet – the being known only as the Hunter.
Today is the first of our numbered,
We're never asleep,
Sometimes there's a voice when I close my eyes,
Sometimes I can't hear you speak.
There are times that the heart of darkness isn't always so.....or at least it doesn't begin as such. This, my dear reader, is one such story. It is a story of how even the purest of hearts can corrupt and turn to the dark under the right circumstances. It is a story of how, if we choose to open ourselves up so, a love so true can lead a good heart down a very dark path indeed.
Above all, it is a parable telling us of the dangers of being unable to let go of a past that is no longer ours to control.
And you see right through me,
This shouldn't last forever,
We're so close,
But now it's time to say goodbye.
Time. It is a precious fleeting thing. It is something to hold on to with grasping fingernails. Fingernails holding on to every blessed, beautiful moment like trying to hang on to golden motes of sand as they trickle through your fingertips like grains of sand falling inexorably down the curved surface of an hourglass. However much as you want to hold on to that single second of time for an eternity, inevitably you are unable to do so.
Nothing remains. Nothing stays the same. It is both our blessing and our curse.
A thousand years ago, in the distant past, a kind and wise man by the name of Ambuchar Devayam ruled over an empire with his wife, Meilan from the Jade Palace. The Emperor's rule was stern but just, and he was beloved of both the people and the Padhrasattava, the gods. The people believed that their emperor would live and rule over them for eternity — it was said that he had drunk from the elixir of immortality itself.
The land was prosperous, and the people within lived lives of peace and contentment.
Until, one day, Meilan was murdered by shadowy assassins.
You wait for the sun in the morning,
I'm waiting for rain,
Sometimes you're too close when I close my eyes,
For now you're quiet again.
Ambuchar Devayam was once a good and kind man, and there can be no doubt that he loved his wife truly. He loved her more than the world and the heavens combined. Her death sent him spiralling down into the clutches of a deep and dark madness. In his grief he called upon powerful magicks and encased Meilan's body within a casing of terracotta. Here, her body could never age. Her skin could never wither and fade. Her beauty would remain for an eternity and beyond so that he could always gaze upon her......until such time as he could restore her body, heart and soul once more.
Meilan's honour guard gave their own lives to her memory too, willingly joining her as their bodies were turned from flesh and bone to terracotta.
Here, they too could watch over her until life and the world itself turned into ashes and dust.
When this story is over,
You'll never want it the same,
Did you learn to take cover,
Or are you running away?
Lost to madness, Ambuchar Devayam turned to the dark arts to bring his beloved Meilan back to him. Yet, despite his increasing power, she always remained beyond him — always a fingers breadth away. It was almost as if the Padhrasattava was punishing him for his loss of faith, and that was what Devayam himself began to believe. The realm suffered from his inattention at first, and then from his ever increasing depredations as he sunk further and further into insanity, as his once pure heart and soul blackened from the atrocities he continued to pursue in the name of true love.
Summoning the greatest mystic of the realm to his court, Ambuchar asked — nay, implored the sage to tell him how he could restore Meilan to life.
And the sage answered: "Heart, soul and mind of the terracotta princess can never be returned to you, not until the fatherless daughter is born under the great purple storm. She will carry inside of her soul the means to restore flesh and blood from terracotta."
Enraged at the somewhat nebulous response, Devayam cursed the sage and murdered him — a curse that would restore the man to undeath as one of the Emperor's ever growing army of the dead.
And you see right through me,
This shouldn't last forever,
We're so close,
But now it's time to say goodbye,
Talk to me,
This voice is the faintest I've heard in the longest time.
Nothing lasts forever. Emperor Devayam was deposed and cast down as others rose to power. Over time his empire was destroyed. Meilan and her terracotta army were lost to the ages and a past that no longer remembered her.
Yet, fuelled by the elixir of immortality and his own dark arts Ambuchar Devayam persisted as years turned into centuries. Throughout all this time he built both his powers and his growing army of undeath as he obsessed over the meaning of the sage's words.
And now, after countless thousands of years, he has finally deciphered the meaning of them.
He is ready.
***
Each of you have come to a hidden paradise, a beautiful kingdom hidden inside the depths of a mountain range across that separates West from the hidden East. Honoured guests of the Dalai Lama, you can only marvel at the paradisical beauty of these lands, where the streams glitter like silver reflecting from the rays of the sun casting its benign gaze down upon you.
The lives the people here are lives of simple contemplation, living off the land and leading their own lives in peace and contentment you begin to ask yourselves why you would ever leave.
Yet unknown to all, there are dark clouds gathering on the horizon. An army has come to these lands — one that will burn and destroy everything in its path.
The final story is yet to be told,
Of those that will stand against the coming dark,
They carry with them the heart and soul of heroes,
They will protect the daughter of the storm from corrupt hands,
The dark emperor awaits them all.
Soon the land will erupt into the bloodiest and deadliest conflict that the world has ever seen. And into the middle of this deadly situation you will come - lost and drowning underneath the weight of that which has been placed on your shoulders, carrying the heaviest burden of them all.
The lives of a thousand, or the life of one that you care about very, very deeply.
And thus begins an epic quest set in a mystical and beautiful part of the world that has only been seen by the luckiest few. This will be a tale of life, of love and heroism against almost unimaginable odds. This is a tale of beautiful princesses, a tale of fearsome dragons, of demons and the living dead, and of knights in shining armour. It is a tale that will live on, both in this world and the world beyond. It is a tale that you will carry in the deepest parts of your heart and soul for forevermore.
We're never asleep,
Sometimes there's a voice when I close my eyes,
Sometimes I can't hear you speak.
There are times that the heart of darkness isn't always so.....or at least it doesn't begin as such. This, my dear reader, is one such story. It is a story of how even the purest of hearts can corrupt and turn to the dark under the right circumstances. It is a story of how, if we choose to open ourselves up so, a love so true can lead a good heart down a very dark path indeed.
Above all, it is a parable telling us of the dangers of being unable to let go of a past that is no longer ours to control.
And you see right through me,
This shouldn't last forever,
We're so close,
But now it's time to say goodbye.
Time. It is a precious fleeting thing. It is something to hold on to with grasping fingernails. Fingernails holding on to every blessed, beautiful moment like trying to hang on to golden motes of sand as they trickle through your fingertips like grains of sand falling inexorably down the curved surface of an hourglass. However much as you want to hold on to that single second of time for an eternity, inevitably you are unable to do so.
Nothing remains. Nothing stays the same. It is both our blessing and our curse.
A thousand years ago, in the distant past, a kind and wise man by the name of Ambuchar Devayam ruled over an empire with his wife, Meilan from the Jade Palace. The Emperor's rule was stern but just, and he was beloved of both the people and the Padhrasattava, the gods. The people believed that their emperor would live and rule over them for eternity — it was said that he had drunk from the elixir of immortality itself.
The land was prosperous, and the people within lived lives of peace and contentment.
Until, one day, Meilan was murdered by shadowy assassins.
You wait for the sun in the morning,
I'm waiting for rain,
Sometimes you're too close when I close my eyes,
For now you're quiet again.
Ambuchar Devayam was once a good and kind man, and there can be no doubt that he loved his wife truly. He loved her more than the world and the heavens combined. Her death sent him spiralling down into the clutches of a deep and dark madness. In his grief he called upon powerful magicks and encased Meilan's body within a casing of terracotta. Here, her body could never age. Her skin could never wither and fade. Her beauty would remain for an eternity and beyond so that he could always gaze upon her......until such time as he could restore her body, heart and soul once more.
Meilan's honour guard gave their own lives to her memory too, willingly joining her as their bodies were turned from flesh and bone to terracotta.
Here, they too could watch over her until life and the world itself turned into ashes and dust.
When this story is over,
You'll never want it the same,
Did you learn to take cover,
Or are you running away?
Lost to madness, Ambuchar Devayam turned to the dark arts to bring his beloved Meilan back to him. Yet, despite his increasing power, she always remained beyond him — always a fingers breadth away. It was almost as if the Padhrasattava was punishing him for his loss of faith, and that was what Devayam himself began to believe. The realm suffered from his inattention at first, and then from his ever increasing depredations as he sunk further and further into insanity, as his once pure heart and soul blackened from the atrocities he continued to pursue in the name of true love.
Summoning the greatest mystic of the realm to his court, Ambuchar asked — nay, implored the sage to tell him how he could restore Meilan to life.
And the sage answered: "Heart, soul and mind of the terracotta princess can never be returned to you, not until the fatherless daughter is born under the great purple storm. She will carry inside of her soul the means to restore flesh and blood from terracotta."
Enraged at the somewhat nebulous response, Devayam cursed the sage and murdered him — a curse that would restore the man to undeath as one of the Emperor's ever growing army of the dead.
And you see right through me,
This shouldn't last forever,
We're so close,
But now it's time to say goodbye,
Talk to me,
This voice is the faintest I've heard in the longest time.
Nothing lasts forever. Emperor Devayam was deposed and cast down as others rose to power. Over time his empire was destroyed. Meilan and her terracotta army were lost to the ages and a past that no longer remembered her.
Yet, fuelled by the elixir of immortality and his own dark arts Ambuchar Devayam persisted as years turned into centuries. Throughout all this time he built both his powers and his growing army of undeath as he obsessed over the meaning of the sage's words.
And now, after countless thousands of years, he has finally deciphered the meaning of them.
He is ready.
***
Each of you have come to a hidden paradise, a beautiful kingdom hidden inside the depths of a mountain range across that separates West from the hidden East. Honoured guests of the Dalai Lama, you can only marvel at the paradisical beauty of these lands, where the streams glitter like silver reflecting from the rays of the sun casting its benign gaze down upon you.
The lives the people here are lives of simple contemplation, living off the land and leading their own lives in peace and contentment you begin to ask yourselves why you would ever leave.
Yet unknown to all, there are dark clouds gathering on the horizon. An army has come to these lands — one that will burn and destroy everything in its path.
The final story is yet to be told,
Of those that will stand against the coming dark,
They carry with them the heart and soul of heroes,
They will protect the daughter of the storm from corrupt hands,
The dark emperor awaits them all.
Soon the land will erupt into the bloodiest and deadliest conflict that the world has ever seen. And into the middle of this deadly situation you will come - lost and drowning underneath the weight of that which has been placed on your shoulders, carrying the heaviest burden of them all.
The lives of a thousand, or the life of one that you care about very, very deeply.
And thus begins an epic quest set in a mystical and beautiful part of the world that has only been seen by the luckiest few. This will be a tale of life, of love and heroism against almost unimaginable odds. This is a tale of beautiful princesses, a tale of fearsome dragons, of demons and the living dead, and of knights in shining armour. It is a tale that will live on, both in this world and the world beyond. It is a tale that you will carry in the deepest parts of your heart and soul for forevermore.
Hopefully I haven't scared anyone off — if there is something above that catches your eye then by all means shoot me a message.
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