Mightythedj23
Well-Known Member
"Catch, you insufferable twat-tickling assrancher." I heard from behind me. I turned quickly to find Gurw sitting in a chair, with some black sunglasses with silver trim sitting in a sheath of sorts in the sand next to him. On the ground in front of me, where it landed was a bottle of red liquid. I rubbed my eyes, and when i looked again, Gurw was gone, yet the bottle he tossed at me was there.
I bent down and reached for the bottle; i hesitated slightly, partially because i didn't want another mind game happening again, and because i wasn't sure if it wasn't actually poison meant to be used on a creature. After a quick moment i assumed it was a healing potion.
'Great' i thought to myself, 'i have a potion from the brewers, my tattered white overshirt, my hat and fire's fury.'
The main issue i was faced with was finding a way back to Alliance territory without dying or being captured...
As i looked around, i saw a tattered leather bound book, and a quill. I slowly reached for it, careful to see if there were any traps set up to it. Apparently it had some writing in it, but due to the ever shifting sands the words are too worn to make out.
"I decided to keep this journal to keep track of time, but also to tell the history of the Alliance of Nine Thousand, my commanders betraying me, and what i hope for the future. Wandering through the wastelands gives me chills, especially with the abandoned settlements those cast out of the Alliance tried to make; seems to me that they tried to establish some sort of normalcy in their decaying lives. We've all heard the stories, all heard the supposed reasons for the outcasts to be sent here. I still have yet to meet another living soul out here in these wastes, but secretly part of me wants to keep it that way...."
"Cycle Fourteen. It's been a fortcycle* since my banishment. It's been a fortcycle since i've seen another living soul. but as i said earlier, part of me wants to keep it that way. All i've encountered so far are what the villagers call "Creepers" and the mysterious "Enderman". I do not possess much knowledge on these "mobs", but i hope that the Library of the Ancients has some knowledge on them, in our own terms. What's that? i see....smoke? Towards the Horizon! My hopes are getting the better of me, in spite of myself. But, i'm finding my body more than willing to find the source of the smoke. Is it my body...or is it my subconscious that edges me forward?"
"Cycle Twenty-Eight. The smoke i saw was from a village settlement that was recently attacked by the Northern Raiders. Raiders? in the Wastes? That could only mean that the Alliance was fighting the Northern Raiders; that, or they possess some form of traveling between dimensions. I know that sounds crazy, but they possess airships; just one of their airships could-and have-level cities to mere rubble. traveling between dimensions doesn't sound too far off for them in the grand scheme of things. i suppose."
I sighed, and continued on, hoping to find something, anything to help me at this point. Hell i'd even welcome the raiders at this point. To be completely honest, i've lost all hope of a pardon from the Alliance; as far as i can see, they deserted me.
"Cycle Sixty-Three. I found an old sand glider. It's in a worse condition than i had first realized. All i could salvage from it was some cloth to shield my face from the sands, a torch, and a rusted iron sword. At this point, anything is helpful to me. I wandered into another village settlement, but this one was different from all the others. They were modernized. They had defenses. They had weapons. Under normal circumstances a village settlement, and the villagers are very primitive in the sense they lack weapons or modern tools. They always let the Golems of Lore protect them, and lived in peace. How they were able to set up modernized tools and even..air defenses? is something i still can't quite understand. After spending so long in the wastelands, wandering through the village settlements that weren't destroyed i've been picking up bits and pieces of their language, so much so i can hold a conversation with them now. From what i've been able to gather, they hold a deep hatred for the precursors to the Alliance; we destroyed their homes, homes that have been there for generations, and built anew. They themselves erupted into a civil war between the villagers who supported and welcomed the Swordsmen of the East (the alliance before it became the alliance) and the villagers who were angered by losing their homeland. The war ended with the Swordsmen casting out countless villagers to the now Wastelands. They still don't realize i am, or was, Alliance. And truth be told, i'd like to keep it that way."
"Cycle Eighty-Four. After spending fourteen more cycles with this village, they finally decided i was deserving of their trust. They gave me a small shack next to a small plot of crops just at the edge of the village, and apologized for the size; it was the only empty house they could give to me. I told them it was fine, i don't have many belongings anyway, so a large space would be more harmful than helpful to me. They also told me that i could access everything in the town. So i decided to visit their library. In it i discovered a book on the history of the villagers themselves. They do not know how their kind came to be, yet they believe in a creator they call "Chton. Apparently pronounced "Ch-t-on", Only he existed and nothing more, until the great schism occurred. He raised mountains, filled the oceans, born unto the land with animals, and finally, created the villagers. Some say he does not exist, some say they have been graced by him in person. I don't think anyone in the alliance knew about the culture of these villagers. Or that they ever cared. They asked me what my beliefs are. To be honest, i don't know anymore.."
I bent down and reached for the bottle; i hesitated slightly, partially because i didn't want another mind game happening again, and because i wasn't sure if it wasn't actually poison meant to be used on a creature. After a quick moment i assumed it was a healing potion.
'Great' i thought to myself, 'i have a potion from the brewers, my tattered white overshirt, my hat and fire's fury.'
The main issue i was faced with was finding a way back to Alliance territory without dying or being captured...
As i looked around, i saw a tattered leather bound book, and a quill. I slowly reached for it, careful to see if there were any traps set up to it. Apparently it had some writing in it, but due to the ever shifting sands the words are too worn to make out.
"I decided to keep this journal to keep track of time, but also to tell the history of the Alliance of Nine Thousand, my commanders betraying me, and what i hope for the future. Wandering through the wastelands gives me chills, especially with the abandoned settlements those cast out of the Alliance tried to make; seems to me that they tried to establish some sort of normalcy in their decaying lives. We've all heard the stories, all heard the supposed reasons for the outcasts to be sent here. I still have yet to meet another living soul out here in these wastes, but secretly part of me wants to keep it that way...."
"Cycle Fourteen. It's been a fortcycle* since my banishment. It's been a fortcycle since i've seen another living soul. but as i said earlier, part of me wants to keep it that way. All i've encountered so far are what the villagers call "Creepers" and the mysterious "Enderman". I do not possess much knowledge on these "mobs", but i hope that the Library of the Ancients has some knowledge on them, in our own terms. What's that? i see....smoke? Towards the Horizon! My hopes are getting the better of me, in spite of myself. But, i'm finding my body more than willing to find the source of the smoke. Is it my body...or is it my subconscious that edges me forward?"
"Cycle Twenty-Eight. The smoke i saw was from a village settlement that was recently attacked by the Northern Raiders. Raiders? in the Wastes? That could only mean that the Alliance was fighting the Northern Raiders; that, or they possess some form of traveling between dimensions. I know that sounds crazy, but they possess airships; just one of their airships could-and have-level cities to mere rubble. traveling between dimensions doesn't sound too far off for them in the grand scheme of things. i suppose."
I sighed, and continued on, hoping to find something, anything to help me at this point. Hell i'd even welcome the raiders at this point. To be completely honest, i've lost all hope of a pardon from the Alliance; as far as i can see, they deserted me.
"Cycle Sixty-Three. I found an old sand glider. It's in a worse condition than i had first realized. All i could salvage from it was some cloth to shield my face from the sands, a torch, and a rusted iron sword. At this point, anything is helpful to me. I wandered into another village settlement, but this one was different from all the others. They were modernized. They had defenses. They had weapons. Under normal circumstances a village settlement, and the villagers are very primitive in the sense they lack weapons or modern tools. They always let the Golems of Lore protect them, and lived in peace. How they were able to set up modernized tools and even..air defenses? is something i still can't quite understand. After spending so long in the wastelands, wandering through the village settlements that weren't destroyed i've been picking up bits and pieces of their language, so much so i can hold a conversation with them now. From what i've been able to gather, they hold a deep hatred for the precursors to the Alliance; we destroyed their homes, homes that have been there for generations, and built anew. They themselves erupted into a civil war between the villagers who supported and welcomed the Swordsmen of the East (the alliance before it became the alliance) and the villagers who were angered by losing their homeland. The war ended with the Swordsmen casting out countless villagers to the now Wastelands. They still don't realize i am, or was, Alliance. And truth be told, i'd like to keep it that way."
"Cycle Eighty-Four. After spending fourteen more cycles with this village, they finally decided i was deserving of their trust. They gave me a small shack next to a small plot of crops just at the edge of the village, and apologized for the size; it was the only empty house they could give to me. I told them it was fine, i don't have many belongings anyway, so a large space would be more harmful than helpful to me. They also told me that i could access everything in the town. So i decided to visit their library. In it i discovered a book on the history of the villagers themselves. They do not know how their kind came to be, yet they believe in a creator they call "Chton. Apparently pronounced "Ch-t-on", Only he existed and nothing more, until the great schism occurred. He raised mountains, filled the oceans, born unto the land with animals, and finally, created the villagers. Some say he does not exist, some say they have been graced by him in person. I don't think anyone in the alliance knew about the culture of these villagers. Or that they ever cared. They asked me what my beliefs are. To be honest, i don't know anymore.."
