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Thread: Legends of the Fallen: The Final Hope (IC) [M]

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    Default Legends of the Fallen: The Final Hope (IC) [M]

    This is a post Apocalyptic/Fantasy/Futuristic Setting that will be rated mature for the possibilities of violence, sexual/sensual situations, profanity, drug usage, gore, war, and other things that may offend your sensibilities. While these things may happen there is no guarantee that they will happen.




    The year: 2120.

    Colbiana. Amarosa. Two existing continents that make up the world of Alderon. It was a world that had become divided and had left Alderon a shadow of what it once had been. Once a place of lush beauty, the One Hundred year war had left it devastated, destroyed, and as far as the villagers of Zarasan knew, devoid of life beyond the great divide.


    The village lie deep within the mountains known as the Superstitious Mountains. It was a place that had somehow miraculously escaped the fallout of the bomb that had ended the war and had been named as such because it was said that the words interpreted meant "The Lost Lands".


    These who dwelled there had, upon entering vowed to live in peace. No longer governed by the laws of either nation, Zarasan had become a self governed people, led by the council, and the elders who lived there. All had been welcomed there regardless of race, religious beliefs, creed, color or any of the petty things rumored to have been the cause of the Great War. And while everyone assuredly had their own reasons for having come there they all shared one common interest.


    The legend of the famed Ilumiata Crystal. Crystals cited to have the power to restore and heal a world which now lie, in ruin.


    A time had come that the elders no longer could put off anymore than they could deny the necessity of calling the meeting that would happen the very next day. And now more than ever it was important that every member of the council and the small village that they served voices would be heard.


    Even the water that flowed down into the village had come tainted. Both fish and vegetation were either being affected by, or dying from, water that had been contaminated by the Bomb that had ended the one hundred year old war that had ravaged the planet.


    Now had come the time for the final hope.


    ********************



    Mid- May 2120


    Zarasan - Early morning.



    "Why must you persist in entertaining such foolish notions!"


    The brunette woman remained steadfast in her position, defiantly refusing to turn and face he whose voice bellowed from his seated position. Her back stiffened, fists balling at her sides as long dark locks moved ever so slightly, her obvious anger just enough for the man seated behind her to pause before he spoke again. This time when he spoke his words came much softer than before, an actual hint of tenderness held within his words.


    "Genavia, why? Why must you do this? You know that it is dangerous and..." The mans voice trailed off and the woman turned, revealing a warm, lovely face that had obviously been riddled with anger but with each passing second appeared to softened. Brown eyes that seconds ago had flashed with anger began to return to their normally more soulful state. But still, there was an underlying hint of fire and perhaps even some measure of righteousness in her voice when she spoke.


    "Because, whether the council approves of his choice of residency or not, it is every member of this villages personal responsibility and right to be there." Gevia spoke of the upcoming meeting the next afternoon.


    Her long lean figure moved, she then placing her palms on the desk in front of her as she leaned down towards him. Her eyes locked with the man across the desk but her voice remained calm although still full of resolve.


    "Because Father."


    She stared into his eyes for a moment then her expression and tone both changed.


    "Because it is his birthright, and the council above all else would do well to remember that."


    The silver haired man sighed as he reached out to touch his daughters cheek. Her reminder of the reason why the young man had grown up without a father was a soft spot in all of the villages hearts, even though they wouldn't outwardly show it and if any did, it was rarely.


    "Again my daughter you show your wisdom. You are a fine addition to the council although I would question your position on making this your personal responsibility."


    Gevia smiled, full lips curling upward.


    "No worries Dad, you know I'll be safe "


    "But the bomb" he began to counter before she cut him off in mid sentence.


    "Papa, it's alright.. Really, I'll be back before dark. It won't take that long to find him."


    Leaning over the desk she kissed his cheek and then she was gone.


    With her bow strapped to her back and daggers to each thigh, the somewhat stubborn brunette disappeared from site and the sound of a door locking could be heard as she vanished from the house.
    Last edited by Mysteria; 06-29-2015 at 01:57 AM.

    There's nothing more deadly than slow growing fear...
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  2. #2
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    Round here, we always stand up straight...
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Mid- May 2120

    Zarasan - Early Friday morning; Chapel of the Order of the Golden Knights Training Grounds


    Planting her feet in a wide stance, the young recruit prepared herself for combat. Bringing her blade up in front of her, she parried his attacks, one after the other; first to the right, then left, then right again, spinning to bring her blade down in a powerful strike across his sword arm. The blow rang out on his armor, causing him to stagger for a moment. Proud of herself, she assumed a solid stance once more, facing him down.

    Taking a step back, he swung his own blade around in a flashy display, and then positioned himself in a battle-ready stance, meeting her gaze. With a smirk on his lips, he struck forward, drawing her blade. She went for it, confident that she could beat him now, but his weapon was no longer there. Instead, she felt the tell-tale tap of his edge against her side, and the cry of "Point, Instructor!" from another recruit on her left. Dropping her edge--and her head--with a sigh, she mentally berated herself for leaving her side exposed, and for being lured by the obvious feint.

    Her instructor, an elf by the name of Lysander, stood back straight, sheathing his blade cleanly. "You know..." he indicated, acknowledging her body language.

    Red-headed Casey nodded, her short ponytail swishing lightly as she did. "I fell for your feint, and I shouldn't have."

    Lysander frowned and nodded once in agreement, but added, "More than that, you didn't follow through on your attack. You must always press whatever advantage you have when the opportunity arises, as it may soon vanish and become your undoing." Casey nodded, knowing she still had much to learn.

    "T'was well done, however," came a clarion voice from among the sudden gasps of her fellow students.

    "Lord Alexandros," Lysander turned and bowed in deference. "We are honored by your presence here today."

    Aurelius nodded once in respect to Lysander and then turned to Casey, putting his left hand, sheathed in gleaming steel warmly upon her shoulder. "Do not be too hard on yourself; you're learning, and learning well. Lysander has had decades longer than you to learn the tricks he has at his disposal, and in time, you will have them as well."

    The instructor smirked in acknowledgment. He knew Lord Alexandros was correct.

    "And under his tutelage, you will learn them faster than even he did," Aurelius smiled, lifting her downcast face under her chin with two gently fingers from his right hand. Meeting his clear, crystal blue eyes for the first time, Casey was breathless and did her best to smile at his words. The hot blush of shyness came far easier to her, being given such a moment of attention by the Lord of her Order. She nervously nodded, attempting to her avert her eyes once more, trying to hide her sudden excitement. Seeing this, a faint smile peeked at the edges of Lord Alexandros' lips.

    Taking a step back and holding out his right hand, he said to Lysander, without even looking at him, "Your weapon, instructor." In one smooth motion, it was unsheathed and in Aurelius' hand, Lysander himself taking a step back to observe what he knew was about to happen.

    "Again, recruit," was all Aurelius said, bringing his blade up to the ready.

    Casey's mouth dropped open and her heart positively hammered in her breast. Oh my god, is he really dueling me? Is this really happening? I'm not ready for this! she thought, her thoughts flashing through her like the icicles of trepidation she suddenly felt.

    But the golden-haired lord before her waited with a steady and patient gaze. "At your ready," he said in an even tone.

    She gathered her wits as best she could, scraping them together like marbles that had scattered all over the floor. Her focus was gone.

    He brought his blade straight up and stood back. "Ready yourself, recruit," he ordered now.

    Goddamn it, get a hold of yourself, she thought. Breathe. Breathe. Deep breath in. Calm down. Focus. Steadying her stance, her feet found their footing as her heart slowed slightly, still pumping adrenaline through her body. She was bringing herself under control, whether her body wanted it or not. She would not embarrass the Order in front of its leader. Not like this, not now.

    Aurelius smiled. He knew the psychological war she was fighting with herself--that was part of the point. "Good. Tell me when you are ready."

    A few more breathes. Stance set, blade up, eyes focused on the archangel of a man in front of her. Focus. Do not make a fool of yourself. Long breath out.

    "Ready," she said, in a softer, tighter voice than she intended.

    "Once more."

    "Ready." This time her voice was there. God help her, underneath her steady grip, her hands were sweating and vibrating with nervous energy.

    With one nod, his blade fell and spun. Before she could even follow it with her eyes, she gasped as she felt it touch her forearm.

    "Point, Lord Alexandros," Lysander called out. A rush of whispers went up from the rest of the recruits.

    Casey blinked, her lips parted. She couldn't believe anyone could move that fast, with such precision.

    "You are disarmed," Aurelius stated, as a matter of fact. "Without a weapon, you are easily cut down. Now, if this was a real contest, I would be able to take my time with you."

    Her cheeks flushed with hot shame. Her moistened eyes told Casey she was about to lose it. Blinking them back, she tried desperately to control herself.

    "Again," he said, stepping back into a relaxed and ready stance.

    "I..." she began. She wanted to tell him, she just couldn't do this. She couldn't possibly compete with him, let alone have any hope of beating him. "I... am..." the words caught in her throat.

    ...not ready!

    "Yes?" he asked in his calm, serene tone.

    "I... am..." She shook, and then gritted her teeth, steeling herself, pursing her lips. Exhaling forcefully. "I am... ready." Her quavering uncertainty slipped through, betraying her words.

    With a nod, his unwavering gaze upon her, he replied, "Make me believe it."

    Casey's eyes widened at his challenge. He stood there, ready. She couldn't back down now. It was fight, or face humiliation. Her nostrils flared, and summoning her courage, she went after him. One strike. *Clang!* Another. *Clang!* *Clang!* *Clang!* *Clang!* Every strike, he parried effortlessly, but her heart hammered with encouragement. She lost count of the blows, striking as hard and as often as she could. It was all a blur. She had to keep fighting for the sake of her pride.

    He suddenly he caught her blade in the guard of his, and twisted, turning her around. When she managed to face him again, she got her blade up just in time to barely ward off a direct blow that came down from the heavens like a thunderbolt. *CLANG!*

    *CLANG!* *CLANG!* *CLANG!*

    Strike after strike crashed down into her faltering, frantic defenses as she desperately tried to keep up, feeling the pressure of his onslaught bringing her literally to her knees, tears freely escaping her eyes now, blurring her vision, her body gasping for breath, trembling...

    *CLANG!* *CLANG!* *CLANG!*

    More and more, until, with shaking, white knuckled hands, all she could do is hold her blade up in front of her. Casey could feel her mouth contorting to sob, her throat tightening, her eyes were shut tight now. She couldn't even bear to look, her cheeks hot with shame and exertion.

    .
    .
    .

    But they stopped. There was only the sound of her breathing, her stifled gasps.

    Tentatively, she opened her eyes... to his hand, extended to her. Looking up, she saw his lordly azure gaze peacefully staring down at her, and his fingers gently beckoned.

    Taking his hand with her own trembling fingers, he helped her up to her feet once more.

    "A true warrior never surrenders, even in the face of seemingly impossible odds. You have a warrior's heart within you, recruit. In time, you will be a fierce and well respected member of this Order." He nodded once more at her out of respect, and handed the blade back to Lysander before turning to the rest of the recruits standing watch in the Chapel grounds.

    "Each of you must show courage in the face of overwhelming resistance and opposition. Each of you will have your mettle tested and in that moment, the true measure of your worth will not be in your victory, but in your resolve. When others break, you will stand. When others flee, you will stand. When others fall, you. will. stand.

    We always die on our feet, and our faith will keep us up when our bodies no longer can, for we are Golden Knights and we back down for no one!"

    Taking Casey's hand in his glimmering steeled grip, he raised them both into the air. The cheers of the recruits in praise of their Lord and the Order rang out through Zarasan.

    Leaving the recruits in Lysander's capable hands, Aurelius made his way back into the Chapel and thence through the streets of Zarasan. He had much to do in order to prepare for the meeting that the elders of the council had called for tomorrow.
    Last edited by ~N~; 06-29-2015 at 08:35 PM.

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  3. #3
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    The sparking of the welder was the only noise that was hitting the ears of the dwarven woman. Her goggles were down over her eyes, tinted against the sparking of the welder. The store owner had swung by her shop the day before to talk about how it seemed his shop was leaning to one corner. Junk found one of the struts holding up the shop on the uneven ground was starting to bend and after a bunch of trouble to get the building up to balance she welded on new struts to reinforce that corner. "This should hold for at least 10 years if the weld holds, which it should.I have the fullest of confidence in my work!"

    She switched off the welder and put her goggles on top of her head with a grin. "I could ask for a hundred for this job.... But how about we just call it at sixty and you buy my rounds for tonight. Hows that sound?"

    Junk turned to the shop keeper, a human that was starting to get on in his age that yet still found the energy of youth in him. "With your drinking lady dwarf you might put it down to at most fifty-five otherwise I'll fear to be drunk out of pocket."

    The shopkeeper's grin matched Junk's as she gripped his hand in a firm handshake. "You can call that fair. Now I should make my way back to my own workshop. Teemo has tendencies that leads to explosions so I should get back before I find my building collapsed to the ground."

    She picked up the heavy welder with ease as she waved goodbye to the shop keeper, making the walk back to her workshop and home. The workshop was mostly made out of metal, the dwarf having built it on her own with tips from the local builders. It was built into the mountain where she dug into it a fair bit to give her workshop more space. She kicked the stubborn door open, mentally reminding herself to oil up the hinges later today. "I'm back!" The welder was gently placed in a shelved area the was marked 'Operational' were a fair number of machines were stacked up. However there was the larger pile of machines that were not working for whatever reason be it missing parts, being broken, or whatever was in the air from the bomb that knocked out most tech.

    Junk grabbed her favorite wrench from the table, walking further into the shop. "You better have your assignment done apprentice. The time I was gone would've been plenty enough to finish it. If you haven't I'm not letting you come to the meeting with me tomorrow."
    I am the blade of shadows embrace. Just because I am a user of an unholy power doesn't make me evil. For without light, a shadow cannot exist.

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    Heson Shadowbane is on discord! For those friends of mine that want to keep in touch with me just send me a message and I'll give ya my deets.

  4. #4
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    Many as One.


    The atmosphere was eerie. Something you may often expect from a funeral… but this one was loaded with mixed feelings and heavy sensation of grief.

    The open coffin was carried upon three large wooden beams; each side was lifted by one maiden. All of which, six in total, wore silver dresses and wings which they shared with their partner from each side, symbolizing the twin goddesses of the moon.

    A Matriarch's passing is not the usual kind of ceremony to go unnoticed, but the lack of intel, or any news from the big cities, made the whole event seemed like some kind of a bad omen.

    Everyone looked down from their glassed balconies at the large space of the cavern deep underground, where the honorable lady was placed to be observed. A final parting, before she will rejoin the great mother of the earth.

    The scenery itself was bewitching; the maidens were circling and moving in slow movements, the silver dressed shone on their dark bare skin like stars in space and their decoration of wings on their back only added something magical to the whole ritual.

    From every glass were reflected millions of eyes. All of which were watching in gold and silver, like candles lit for a mass prayer.

    Sabin was among them. She was one of many and one to act for many. She fixed her cape on her head which throw some shade on her silver eyes as she slowly withdrew from the crowd, watching as more squeezed in to take her place.

    Few steps from there she met with others, all, like herself, dressed to venture outside.

    "Zihero et a'simanim", Hissed someone, "Eim be'hol makom u'be'hol ehad"
    ("Remember the signs")_____________("They are everywhere, and in every one")

    The group nodded softly, each swiftly picking a direction and following the wind. Sabin turned for the east, never stopping to climb onward to the east.

  5. #5
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    The forest was still, with the exception of a few birds that warbled their song. The sunlight that was hazed over for the last few years had almost returned to it's original bright warmt and filtered through the leaves of the tall trees. It was almost a miracle that the valley had missed the effects of the bomb and was probably the only area that maintained it's natural state.

    Merle was toying with his latest contraption. He called it his better mousetrap but, in fact, it was for larger animals such as rabbits or squirrels. After all, a man had to eat and out here a good roasted rabbit was as good as the finest steak. He set the spring noose, lightly wrapping the twine to hold the sapling in place and using some sweet clover as bait. Nodding his head in satisfaction he returned to his place ontop of the big rock.

    Taking a book out of his napsack he thumbed through the pages. It was an ancient history book, written long before the One Huindred Year conflict, telling of the times of prosperity in the world. It was a time of peace between all races...mankind, elven, dwarves and even the orcs. He spit. The name 'orc' left a bitter taste in his mouth. They were a breed that was born to battle and even in times of peace they were a people to be watched.

    Merle looked out across the peace of the forest, thinking of his youth. No, he had no peace such as this in his life. He was taunted and ridiculed. But there were times he felt the serenity. It was the times he was with Gevais. She never judged his dreams and listened intently as he described his thoughts and ideas. She was his peace in troubled times, especially after they had received word that his father was killed in battle. She was always there when he needed someone, even if it were to only sit with him in silence.

    He often wondered what had become of the lanky little girl with tangled hair. The one that would fight to defend you. He missed those times. He missed her. But he would not return to that world again. This was his home, with his books and with nature. He was content right where he was.

    Thank you, Nara

  6. #6
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    “Aww… damn. Nother freakin wolf.” Harold groaned as he tugged the head free. Currently carrying only 5 rabbits, he was rather annoyed that the wolves had grabbed at least 4 of his rabbits. He could tell by the paw marks near the ground, and the bits of wolf fur stuck to the rabbits teeth. That would have to be remedied soon, or otherwise he wouldn’t be able to bring home enough rabbits next time. The new traps were still empty, so he was already planning to leave the old traps be and just set up shop somewhere else, as it would be needed for capturing more next time. Next job was to scare off some of the wolf packs, so that he wouldn’t lose as many fur’s as he was.

    “Still, not too bad a haul. Gonna have to grab Dire to bring in the deer that I got.” Harold murmured to himself as he slung the yew bow across his back, mentally taking count of the thin tip arrow he had left over. It was getting rather low as he continued towards the forests edge, weaving in and out of the trees with practiced ease. It brought a smile to his face, fingers running across old notches and “x”s that he had left in the tree, simple guides he used as a child that would confuse others who were not similar to the path. Not that many others would try to follow his hunting path, but there were the occasional villager who chased him after a rather elaborate prank or such. Currently though wasn’t the case, as he had been out on the job, having spent a full 4 days to collect his earnings as it were. As he was a decent contributor to his families wealth while his dad continued to set up the bakers shop, it was needed.

    “Man, I can’t wait to see how this meeting will go down. Who knows what kind of fun things are out there in the wild world.” Harold thought as he just about danced around the forest, the steady thump of rabbits on his back making a mental tempo in his head. He was excited, both to be home again, and that he was able to make it back in time for the meeting. He was lucky, knowing that a usual run could have taken him a full week to complete, but most of the new traps had been untouched, and the old ones were almost out, as most of the wolves and other wildlife had begun to sniff them out. Clever bastards.

    Those thoughts were quickly brushed aside as he exited the wild brush, finally making it back to his house. Hanging the rabbits from the far roof, he headed into his room and quickly dropped his stuff off, finding that both his parents were gone, already at the bakery to start working on the next batch of fresh bread. He could catch up with them later, as the longer he waited, the more risk to the hidden deer being found. Splashing water onto his face, he was quick to change into some clean clothes, running a brush through his hair afterwards. Slipping on a hoodie, he headed out, making sure to relock the place before heading off to see Dire. It was rather easy to find his way again, dipping in and around people with a large smile on his face.

    “Oi! Dire, ya busy. Got a deer hiding for ya!” Harold shouted once he finally managed to catch the old Orc.


    "Even Dreams, can be a nightmare"
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  7. #7
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    Keth Murrhen

    The forest was quiet as always. Small animals rustled in the bushes as birds chirped their familiar songs. It seemed that nature was the only peaceful place right now. It at least beat the hustle and loudness of the town. If he could, Keth would live back here again but he knew that was not a liable option. Besides, as much as he loved the forests of the world being able to meet new people and make friends was a far more rewarding experience than living as a hermit as he once did. Behind him was a sled where fresh killed deer were being pulled. He had been out all morning hunting game for his shop and this amount would provide him meat and hide for about a week. He simply needed one more kill and off in the distance he could see one grazing.

    Being careful not to make any noise the Half-Orc brought his bow up and notched an arrow into it. Aiming carefully he let loose the arrow watching it as it found its way into the deer's heart. Keth smiled to himself for the clean kill and walked to take the arrow and add the prey to the sled. Beside him he heard a large animal rustle in the brush coming in his direction. Notching an arrow in the bow he quickly turned around and took aim before releasing a hearty laugh. He lowered the bow and slung it over his shoulder.

    "Genavia, don't scare me like that. I almost put an arrow in your head." The young woman was a regular at his shop and bought his meat and skins. If it wasn't for her then he probably would be out of business.

    "What brings you around here all armed to the teeth?" Walking over to the sled he tied the straps to his shoulders. As much as he would like to stay and talk he knew that they both had other matters, though a small conversation wouldn't hurt. "Nothing bigger out here than deer."

    ~~~~~

    Teemo Ciri

    "Make something that spits fire, she says. Do it by the time I get back, she says." Sitting at his work bench Teemo was working on his most recent project that was assigned by his mentor, Junk. The Dwarf had left the shop a few minutes ago and had left him with with making this by the time she returned. He knew that if it wasn't that future head trauma would be inevitable, though he has improved his wrench-dodging skills. His workplace seemed to be something of a disaster to people who didn't know his organization process. Scraps of metal, vials of chemicals, tools, and other questionable substances littered the desk and in its drawers. A mug of black coffee was on the corner of the work space and was really all that was keeping the small Halfling awake.

    The contraption was almost complete. In his mind there was only one thing that truly breathed fire; a dragon. The machine resembled what looked like a dragon's head with a handle near it's chin and a trigger further down the body. Thankfully Junk had scrap parts from a job she did earlier in the week otherwise this job would've been impossible. He pulled the trigger once and saw the dragon's mouth open and close with a clicking noise and a spark. "Good, I at least got that down." Next Teemo opened up the body and put in a tank of what looked like green water. Connecting the tank and the inside of the mouth via a thin, clear tube. Sealing it all back up Teemo let out a smile. "My masterpiece is complete. Good job, me."

    "I'm back! You better have your assignment done apprentice. The time I was gone would've been plenty enough to finish it. If you haven't I'm not letting you come to the meeting with me tomorrow."

    "Oh, yes. Ten minutes is plenty of time to make something." The sarcasm was clear in his voice though he wasn't sure if it was the drowsiness starting to get to him or if he was actually annoyed. "Anyways, it's done." Grabbing the contraption he set it on his lap and pushed himself to Junk using his stool. "I think you'll be quite impressed with this one. I suggest pointing it at someone that's not living and/or anything that's not expensive." Standing on the stool Teemo presented the invention to his teacher.
    Last edited by Dr. Insano; 07-04-2015 at 10:36 PM.

  8. #8
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    Lani knelt in the once fertile earth of the fields that sat on the outskirts of the village. She rocked back on her heels, running a soil covered hand across her forehead, leaving a streak behind. The leek plants that she'd been working on were wilting, it had taken a long time and the leeks were some of the last plants to have been affected by the polluted water that had leeched into the soil. In the years before the bomb and a few years after, the fields and plants in the valley had been healthy and flourishing, producing a surplus of food for the settlement. Now however, it looked like they would be in short supply this year. Her father had coordinated the storage of the surplus in the cool caves in order to increase the length it could be stored, but even that would eventually run out. How long it would last was unknown and while starting rations now while it would make the food last longer, it could also start a panic.

    "What's got you looking so concerned Lani?"

    Lani looked up squinting into the sunlight, while rocking back to sit on her heels. Her father stood above her, his clothing nearly as dirt covered as her own. He'd probably just come from his own personal field where he was trying to develop new stains of plant life, hopefully ones that were able to handle the contamination from the bomb better.

    "The Leeks are starting to show signs of contamination too Father. That makes everything now affected. I'm worried that what we're growing here, either won't be enough to feed everyone or that the food itself will be contaminated."

    Her father frowned. "This is a problem."

    "If there was someway to either cleanse the soil or the water, then maybe we could still have some kind of harvest. What you grow in your greenhouse would be safe since that soil isn't naturally contaminated by the streams but it's hard to know when the water became so bad that it even began to have an effect." She paused. "At this rate in a few years we might not be able to grow anything and certainly not enough to support the entire population of Zarasan." She sighed ran a hand through her hair, messing it further.

    "Perhaps this is something that will need to be brought up tomorrow at the council meeting." Her Father suggested as he stared out over the fields of half grown produce. At this time of year, everything should be healthy and flourishing, but the death was clearly visible in the fields.

    Lani nodded as she stood, brushing her hands off on her pants. "I suppose you'll mention it when you discuss the new plants that you've germinated?"

    "I was think you could explain it Lani. You've been leading the work in the fields while I've been fiddling with my cross-pollination experiments. You're capable enough dear." Said her father smiling at her as they began the track back to the village.

    "But Papa." She said looking nervous.

    "No buts Lani. You're old enough to begin taking a larger role here." He said smiling at her and patting her back.

  9. #9
    Red Ninja
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    War, I...will...have war! The words of his old commander ripped through the mind of an old Orc who hasn't killed in years and has only maintained his weapons out of habit. Tossing over in his sleep the memories continued tearing through his mind. The countless battles, the constant switch sides, watching his comrades dying around him, and above them all his Commander shouting like a beast, driven insane by the hunt for crystals.

    The Orc's death was the last thing Dire saw before he bolted out of his bed crashing into a table grabbing a broken table leg for a weapon.
    "I AM THE KING OF THE CRYSTAL CAVES!" The Commander shouted this before a creature made of living crystal crushed him into a paste. It was early morning and he was dressed in only a pair of loose pants. His eyes focused and he saw his mate and their adopted children off in the corner of their little house near the center of Zarasan. Scorn was already in her work clothes for working the Mill, long pants, long shirt, boots, and an apron. While the kids Grit and Whisper were dressed to go work in the Nightstar fields, overalls, white tank tops, boots and gloves, the two young Orcs looked almost afraid, but Scorn knew that look and knew the dreams.

    Putting down the mallet she carried when the mill needed some thumping she looked down and shooed the kids away.
    "Go on you two, your Pack Father is alright." Her voice was rough like most Orcs, but soothing as a mother's would sound. Grit, always the more grim of the two simply growled lightly and picked up his work knife and shovel marching out the door. Whisper as her name might imply was more quiet and emotional, Dire and Scorn think she has other blood than just Orc in her young veins. But she walked up to Dire as he came to his senses and gave him a firm hug.
    "Be strong Pack Father, we need your strength still."

    Dire returned the hug and watched his Pack Daughter leave before sitting on the floor rubbing his eyes. He had just come off working on the night patrol that protects the town from... animals mostly. While not overly taxing it was still a full night of staying up while the rest of the village slept, and every since the announcement for this town meeting went up he's been having the same dream over and over. Someone was trying to tell him something, maybe the old Commander's insanity would steer him off a similar path. He shook his head as Scorn joined him on the floor, she knelt before him and lifted his rough face with her hands staring into his cloudy eyes.

    "The same dream Dire?" She asked keeping her eyes locked on his.

    The big male simply let out a low growl and nodded.

    The female sighed and pulled him into her chest for a hug. Dire has always been the silent type, but after a dream like he's been having you were lucky to get a grunt or growl out of him. He hugged his mate firmly for a few seconds before he could focus on something other than the dream holding his long ear to her chest he listened to the woman's heartbeat and let it work a temp that would clam his own pounding organ. Soon his burning red eyes opened and a smile crossed his dark features.

    "Thank you Scorn." His deep gravely voice seemed to rumble the boards of the floor, a hint at what may still lie behind the calm and dim seeming exterior. A blood and bone warrior, getting to their feet the two Orcs shared a kiss then parted ways. Dire would not be able to fall back asleep after such a violent waking. So shaking the last of his interrupted sleep from his eyes he dressed in his black cloth pants, black and gold vest, and brown leather boots. He was just about to exit the door when a little nagging in the back of his mind told him to grab his saber and blow-dart gun. Having learned a long time ago to trust that little nagging, he went to the weapon racks and pulled the somewhat dusty items down. He cleaned them up quickly then strapped them on as he moved for the door.

    As he reached the door he smelt the approach of a familiar young man, Harold Jensen. The young Druid was a steady source of income and things to do. He hunted out in the forests and sometimes he took game too big to carry so he often came to the Orcs to help bring it in for a portion of the profits the butchers pay. They hunted and killed their own food, so the revenue was much preferred when they could trade it for things they needed like spices and fabric. Cooking and sewing were still relatively new to his family so they needed the surplus to hone their skills with.

    “Oi! Dire, ya busy. Got a deer hiding for ya!” The young man's voice rang through his sensitive ears, but he nodded to the Hunter.
    "Where?"

    Harold responded jerking his thumb back to the forest.
    "By the lake under leaf and dirt with two rocks on it, one marked with a red S."

    Dire nodded and moved past the thin hunter locking the door to his house and hanging the key and its chain back around his neck.
    "Same take?"

    The man nodded.
    "Yup 60 of the profit to me, 40 to you and your family."

    Dire nodded then walked down the small dirt path and out into the village proper. He has been in Zarasan ever since the bombs fell, he's walked every inch of this place at least once. And could draw a map of it with his eyes closed. Watching people scoot out of his way only got a slightly sigh from him as he moved past. Even after all these years the stigma about Orcs is still fresh, bloodthirsty murderers and rapists destroying all in their path with no remorse. Not all true, but also not all false, some Orcs were like that, but not all of them. His comrades of the Blacklake Guard were a more civilized sort of Orc, they only killed what they were paid to kill and only raped the willing, some females have that kink afterall. Ignoring all the looks Dire went up to the gates and let the guard on duty see his face, the look of disgust was as apparent as the man's shiny medal to denote his group. The villages group of nut cases, with a simple nod the Orc exited the high gates following his mental map of the area.

    Following his memories and his nose the big male located the kill site and began digging it up. The Druid had made a good clean kill, and it was fresh enough for the scavengers to not have gotten to it. Not even the flies were buzzing around it, seems luck was with Dire of Blacklake today. It was only a minute or so before he had the carcass fully unburied and it's legs bound together for easy conveyance. Now all he needed was a big enough stick to carry it with, looking up he began eying a branch above his head for the pole when his keen ears heard the rustle of grass and a slight growl coming from behind him. Drawing the blowdart gun first the old warrior crouched down and moved to protect the kill, loading a dart into the gun he followed his ears and nose and soon saw a large black wolf creeping through the brush towards him.
    Wolves never usually travel alone so the Orc was listening for any sign of the scavenger's pack mates. The black wolf exited the brush, lips curled in a snarl. Dire could see how skinny the canine was, he was also very old. Nearly at death's door and looking for his last meal, the Orc almost felt sorry for the beast and considered giving him some of the meat. He chased the thoughts away though, this kill wasn't his, it would be up to Harold if he wanted to share the meat.

    Shaking his head he growled at the wolf.
    "Find another meal grandfather, I don't want to kill you."

    The wolf stopped and twitches his ears a little as if calculating the big blue monster's words. But a loud growl from his stomach closed the issue. It let out a loud howl and charged Dire hoping to snag some of the male's food. The Orc growled and swung his massive fist around connecting it with the wolf's side sending to sailing a few feet to the left. It was a hefty blow that would've stopped any normal animal, but hunger and desperation do strange things. The big dog staggered but quickly adjusted his course and charged again. Like before Dire decided to try and injure the wolf enough to make him run, he really didn't want to kill the old beast. This time he thrust his flat hand forward and caught the wolf's throat and fully threw the black animal back into the brush.
    He heard the wolf cry out and whimper a little as it tumbled through the undergrowth. Then there was silence, not even the birds in the trees were squawking out their songs. Thinking he had at last managed to send the wolf away there was another howl and the sound of the dog rushing back towards Dire.

    Letting out a sad sigh he loaded a quick-kill dart and readied his blow gun.
    "I am sorry grandfather, hopefully you find all the food you want in the Hunt After Life." The black wolf bound through the last of the brush and only caught a glimpse of the deer he would die for before he felt a sharp pain in his neck, his feet were kicked out from under him and he fell flat onto the earth...dead before he even landed. Saying a small prayer to the God of the Hunt, Dire freed the dart from the beast's chest and replaced it to the case he carried them in slinging the blow-dart gun across his back. With one grisly task finished all that remained was carrying the deer back to town.
    He broke the branch he'd been looking at before and quickly cleaned it of excess branches and slugs before sliding it between the deer's tied feet and hefting the whole thing onto his back. Harold had done good this time, the beast was at least as big as the young man himself. This would feed a lot of people back in Zarasan.

    Adjusting the deer so it sat comfortably between his shoulder blades Dire began a quick march back. He didn't want to deal with any more desperate predators right now. Keeping up a steady job he arrived at the gates just in time to see the changing of the guards. The stuck up knight from before was replaced by a jovial Dwarf carrying a javelin and canteen of some kind of alcohol.

    Looking down at the Orc with one squinted eye the Dwarf shouted down.
    "Who goes there!"

    The big warrior growled.
    "Dire the Orc, have a kill."

    The Dwarf switched between squinting eyes for a few seconds before realization seemed to kick in.
    "Oh ay, that big scary blue guy. Ok come on in."

    The oldster growled under his breath, but breezed past the gatekeepers heading right for the town's closest butcher. A Halfling named Zec, Halflings weren't as rare as Orcs in this village, but there wasn't many, Dire usually did business with his fellow non-humans when it came to trade and Zec was a good sort, assuming you could get him off his pipe long enough to talk without smoking you out with his High Moor Wild Puff. Keeping up a brisk walking pace he entered the shop and kicked a large dented bucket with his boot to tell the Butcher he had a customer.
    There was the sounds of some pots hitting the ground and a few low curses before the Halfing Butcher walked out of the back surrounded by a small cloud of yellow smoke.

    Zec was an older member of the Shire-folk, bald head, cleanly shaved face with a long stained pipe forever hanging from between his lips. He rarely even took the pipe out to speak so you needed to really listen to hear him.
    "Well, well, well, Dire of Blacklake. What brings you here? Young Harold kill another deer you had to go fetch?"

    Dire simply nodded moving to the counter, he pulled the deer off his back and placed it in one of Zec's carts to be weighed and processed. Letting out a few long puffs of his pipe Zec studied the scale and nodded.
    "135 on the nose, meat wasn't damaged, no scavengers got into her, and even her pelt seems nice all rare things to happen at once nowadays. So payment as usual?" He asked jerking his head to the general goods section of his shop.

    The Orc nodded.
    "I'll take 40% of the deer's weight spice, leather, and nails. Need to extend Grit's bed again. Give Harold the rest for whatever he gets."

    Scribbling the numbers down on his little scroll Zec nodded to his large customer.
    "Ok shouldn't take more than a few hours to get all this sorted out come back then."

    Looking out the window noticing the sun was just reaching it's zenith. He could go have lunch with family in the mean time. The Orc nodded before exiting the shop making his way towards the Mill, this might be his last chance to have lunch with the family, who knows what this meeting will end in tomorrow


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  10. #10
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    The streets of Zarasan were alive with the hustle and bustle of people the day before the big town meeting and Telzicus took the opportunity to play something light-hearted on his lute for the sullen passersby in the square. Faces moved past him, the majority of them downcast, dirty, and with only a tiny remaining glimmer of hope left in them to light their worried eyes.

    After the bomb had ravaged the world five years ago, the town's establishments were in a great state of disrepair..and so were its people. Everyone had been miraculously able to cope and get by until this point. It was now that Zarasan's resources were depleting and becoming contaminated that everyone was beginning to prepare for the worst.
    Huh. Funny to think there could be a situation worse now than the war that had destroyed nearly the whole world and took everything from the few remaining souls that were left in it, he thought wryly to himself.

    The tall man shook his head slightly, as if to stir up the ideas in his head so that the nicer ones would float to the top, and put down the lute for a moment to get a drink from the wooden cup he had sitting on the ground near him. It was the last little bit of the fresh water that he'd gathered from the small river near the outskirts of Zarasan before it was unfit to drink. The river used to have the cleanest, coolest water but now something was beginning to change it. The townspeople noticed long after he did, as Telzicus spent a lot of his time near the waters and was almost immediately aware of its slow contamination. If he'd have noticed sooner, he likely would not have had to add an extra layer of clothing to his wardrobe.

    “Getting too warm for this,” he sighed, putting his water down and stretching before going back to entertaining anyone who happened to stop and listen awhile.

    Some time had passed and he had the feeling the reason very few were interested in his performance was because the plucky, cheerful notes failed to match the atmosphere. They echoed through the cobblestone streets of the square emptily, creating a dissonance that didn't lie in his actual performance but in the reaction to the music of the hearts belonging to those in the busy crowd he had been playing for. Telzicus exhaled as he surveyed all the somber faces in the throng of people and murmured to himself, “Well don't worry; I'm feeling it too, everyone.” It had become a fool's errand at this point to try and lift the spirits of the people with a few phony, happy tunes...and it was draining him considerably.

    He sat down, his back comfortably propped up against the wall of the seamstress's shop behind him. What he started to play next was a gentler, more serious melody while he relaxed and let the weariness show on his handsome face. This seemed to grasped the attention of a few people that strolled by. Telzicus grinned inwardly. Pathos; one of the greatest things man had ever had ingrained into the very fiber of its being, he mused silently. A few folks passed, looking down on the sitting bard with sympathetic grimaces. A few coins were tossed into the overturned hat next to him while they listened to the man as he sang softly;

    “Love should be a simple blend,
    A whispering on the shore.
    No, clever words you can't defend;
    They lead to never more.

    No sighs or mysteries,
    She lay golden in the sun.
    No broken harmonies,
    But I've lost my way.
    She had rainbow eyes...”

    His voice was orotund and flowing, like rich honey being poured out of its container and onto something sweeter, and it moved over the crowd with an appeal to their forlorn hearts...as well as their coin purses.

    In no time, he had earned enough to get a hot meal and a place to stay the night in town at the inn so he could make it to the meeting the next day within a timely manner. Not so much because he cared about the goings-on of the community, but because he knew there would be people there that did. And they would be too worried and busy being nosy for them to notice him cutting their purse strings. Well, the purse strings of the ill-mannered members of Zarasan, anyway. He would never do something like that unless he was sure the person deserved it.

    He spent the rest of the day relaxing at the inn and playing his lute idly in the corner. Occasionally someone would come by and begin singing drunkenly along with the tune and toss a coin or two his way and Telzicus began to wonder why he didn't stay in town more often if it was this easy to make money.
    He quickly remembered why when a group of inebriated patrons crowded him at his tiny corner table and demanded he play their favorite songs for their amusement. Politely declining and retreating up to his room for the rest of the night, Telzicus chuckled to himself, “That's why. I would never get any damned peace and quiet...”

    Though he happened to usually be a night owl, the crafty bard decided he would go to bed early since he had a long day of thievery ahead of him and would need his rest if he didn't want to get caught in the process of merely lightening some pockets.
    Last edited by Skeletor; 07-02-2015 at 12:43 PM.

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