Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Gods; A New Age

Gods; A New Age
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This is the IC for the Gods; A New Age. Only accepted RPers are allowed to post here.



Jack, Avatar of Mask. Gela, Avuvian Territory


?Stick with me, and you may live another day,? Jack said ominously as the men stared at the light that penetrated the holes in the thick wooden gate. Twenty men, two men chained together, one wielding a sword, the other a small brass shield; every single one of them a slave for the Gladiatorial Arena of Gela. They would live to entertain the Avuvians as Maskmen would fight Maskmen, orcs, Drows, hell, they?d even make them fight the Ogre Jack had seen chained in the Salve Pits.

Jack quickly checked that his black veil still covered his face and then returned to breathing calmly. The sound of battle beyond the gates were clear as metal struck metal and the sound of grunts and cries of pain was drowned by the thunderous cheers of the spectators. Jack didn?t see it was cruel, he would have done the same if he had gotten the idea, alas he hadn?t.

?Listen up you worthless maggots!? Their master called as he stood up on a box to get a better view over his newly bought salves. ?Even free, no of you would be worth the honor and entertaining the Avuvians beyond these gates. So if you?re going to die, you bloody well make sure that they will walk away from here with a smile on their face.?
He scanned the crowd for anyone to object or speak against him, but they all knew better than to raise their voice against someone who spend silver as easily as he drank water. ?Give up your religion?Your God won?t hear you here. You have one common God now, and that?s me! Worship me like you would worship any other God, for I hold the wish of life and death. That is, if you live through this match at all.?
With that said their master got down from the box and left them to be ready for the gates to open. Jack spent the time coiling the chains around his arm, that way hi partner wouldn?t run away from him.

The gates soared opened, the light temporarily blinding the gladiators as they ran out to face their opponents. Blood flew through the air as the head of one gladiator was smashed by an Orc?s mace, his partner soon dragged off by the orc to be eaten alive, a second pair charged a triton armed gladiator, the shield carrier sacrificed himself for the swordman to jump in and stab the man through his rips.

Jack pushed his own shield carrier into an opponent, knocking him off balance long enough for him to step in and slash his throat wide open. ?Get up and arm yourself with his damn sword!? Jack cursed at his partner, dragging him back onto his feet.

The poorly armed slaves were poor opponents for their better trained and armed opponents. The battle had barely lasted seven minutes and already half of the pairs had been cut to pieces, leaving only the battle-hardened Maskmen left to face them.

?To me!? Jack called, rallying the nearby Maskmen to gang up against three big shielded gladiators. ?Flank them, right, left! You, with me!? Jack ordered jumping forward with another pair, baiting the central gladiator out of the group. Jack got too close and was punched in his face, send face-first to the ground but before the man could deliver the killing blow, a sword found its way into his bare back. The last man was made short work off as a chain was wrapped around his neck and his windpipe broke under the pressure.

A scream was heard to Jack?s side and he spun around to find his parter decapitated by an orc. ?You bloody cu-? Jack cursed, rolling away from its sweeping axe, but he only evaded it by a small margin. The chains on his arm and the dead body were restricting him from any movement; he chopped the wrist of his dead partner, feeing himself.
He backed away, rejoining his other Maskmen as they stood face to face with the last orc gladiators. The Maskmen cursed, they knew they would be little of a challenge against orcs when it came to strength and fight for survival, ?We?re dead!? one of the men called, but Jack shot him a venomous look.
?They smell your fear,? he hissed. ?We may not be strong, but we?re faster, and think brighter. You are a Maskman, damn it, use your head!? Jack yelled, then ducked as an orc swung its sword out after his head.

Stabbing the orc in its stomach, he screamed in pain as the orc produced a rusty knife and stabbed him in his shoulder. Kicking the monster in its groin, he elbowed it square in the jaw, sending it wheeling down on the ground where he soon wrapped his chains around its throat and squeezed the life out of it. The last two orcs, outnumbers and cornered against the wall roared their last defiance to death as they fought the last Maskmen, dragging four with them in death.

Jack stood up, for a moment he couldn?t hear the applause of the crowd, and looked about those Maskmen who had survived all sighed in relief. They would life?For now.


Jim Mobley, & Baile Snowsong. Heckclown City

?Last time I check my invitation, I did not read anything about ?Unorthodoxy Trade Method? my dear Pirate Lord Snowson,? Jim Mobley said calmly.
The air was tense as the members of the Shadow Council looked to and fro as words were exchanged between the two Gang Lords. Assassin Guild Masters, Drug Lords and Mercenary Warlords made up the Shadow Counil, and which in turn determined all the decisions of the Heckclown Union.
Yet such a council was never without its friction and rivalries, especially when money, land and power was involved, and such complications was only worsened when every man present was a man of Mask.

?You sell slaves to the Avuvians, you use the catacomps of Crypt as lairs for your drugs, and you trade with the orcs. You, ser, are asking for more trouble than the Union can afford,? Baile Snowsong accused, slamming his hand down on the table. ?We will face war if this goes on. We already suffer from trade embargoes from the Avuvian and every Ulmo-loving bastard, but now you will go as far as to offend the neutral kingdoms as well!?
Muttering of agreement and disapproval was heard along the long-table and all eyes turned to Jim Mobley. ?I?m surprised that you are concerned about war when it is you, and your pirates that has been harassing the trade routes of Ulmo?s worshippers for decades. Tell me, Lord Baile, is it your Dark Elven nature or is it your hypocrisy which differs you from me??

?Why you!-? Baile spat and drew his weapon. A move rarely done at the Shadow Council; every member flew to their feet, guns, swords and crossbows pointed at one another. ?C?mon then! Lets settle this, right here and right now!? Baile challeneged.
?And risk civil war? You?re insane!? A warlord cried and turned his pistol from Mobley to Baile.
?Gentlemen,? Mobley? silk-like voice said. ?How about we treturn to our civilized manners of solving such problems?? Eyes were shifted and one by one the men nodded and returned their weapon, and seated themselves once again.

?Baile has a point, however. If you continue pressing your trade as you have, you?ll find the undead soldiers of Crypt crawling out your arse before you can find an alternative. No one touches their priests, but to defile their graveyards and crypts is to ask for the wrath of Crypt himself.? The men nodded in agreement, remembering that the Union had once insulted the people of Crypt badly enough to spark a war. Although they won, their economy was badly scarred, and they had never pressed the worshipers of Crypt again.

?Whatever the case may be here, Jim, you better stop using the Temples of Crypt as Drug Stroages, or I?ll see your business chocked, understood?? Charles Gripper, an influential Black Market Merchant, warned. ?As for you, Baile, you better start choosing which ship to raid. We can?t afford a war with the Avuvian Confederation. Move to vote for this decision.? The vast majority of the dozen men present raised their hands in agreement and the feud was left at that.

The Heckclown Union was divided by gangs and tribal-like behavior, but when the Shadow Council voted for something it was followed. No one could stand up against the power of the Council; it was made up of the most wealthy merchants, powerful warlords and men of social influence. Go against those men, and you?d be better off swimming against the current of a waterfall; they controlled the Union and they controlled each other. Manipulation and economic ties forced each and every man to endure each other as they would sit present at the table.
The only man who wasn?t a part of the Council was Baron Karl von Sneiker. He didn?t care for power-bickering, he had his fort and contempt on staying put there, training and protecting the borders. He was respected and feared for his abilities as a general and for his influence; did he wish it, he could choke half other Union into submission as every caravan passed through his near bandit-free lands, and he rarely demanded toll for the grain from the people of Hallow.

Karl has always been hard to influence. Jim had learned that the hard way, and still bore scars from their first meeting, so he remained one of the few independent warlords, free of debt and reliance to others.


Sir Daniel Fortesque & Sammuel ?Kain? Volkmar. Road to Hedes

?The wards here are fading, have them fixed,? Sir Daniel Fortesque ordered as he pointed on the road where a wards had been carved and painted. The lands of Crypt were haunted in the night as the living restless-dead awakened from their sleep and sought to satisfy their thirst for revenge.

The Temple of Crypt wasn?t perfect. Although its priests and necromancers were taught its strict rules from when they were children, there were still the very few who?d run away and become ambitious, where it bordered insanity. Such necromancers were to be hunted down and killed, yet they never left the world without scarring it one way or the other. Whatever the case they always left undead who couldn?t easily be given rest, Daniel had ordered these undead to be imprisoned within the forests of his kingdom so they wouldn?t harm anyone else and to ensure they didn't harm his own people, magical wards were painted on every road, wall and independent house.

?Our work is given little acknowledgement, milord,? Captain Sammuel ?Kain? commented. Kain was the Captain of the Grim Reaper Knights, the elite soldiers of Crypt.
?Our holy Texts never asked for acknowledgement nor understanding,? Daniel answered as he watched the necromancers finish painting the wards, they?d last another decade before they?d need repainting. ?We do what others will not. If we didn?t, every field, city and sewer would-?
?End up like the infested nest of the Orcus cultists.? Kain said synchronically. ?I know the holy Texts as well as you do, but what they?ve missed is the fact that humans move on. Look at every other kingdom and Empire; armed with muskets, canons and what not. The Temple of Crypt may guard the forbidden knowledge of the past, but we will never stop humans from ripping each others throats out.?

Daniel sighed. Kain was right, even with the wisdom of thousands of years behind him, Daniel had seen the same events unfold time after time, and at every conflict he had stood passively and watched as men had killed men, waiting only with a shovel to bury the dead.
?It may be so but we are not to determine the fate of mankind.?
?But we can determine whether or not the dead are allowed to rest in their graves,? Kain sneered.
?You know as well as I, that there are no spirits bound within the body of the Undead. They-?
?We demand their bodies to be mutilated further than what decay does. Does that not clash with the Crypt?s Ethics??
Daniel fell silent. It was true, many of the doctrines and ethical codes clashed, yet they were based on idealism not realism. The ethics demanded that the services of the priests are not to be charged, yet every temple outside of the Theocratic Kingdom of Archious demanded money one way or the other to pay taxes, payment, restocking supplies, and so on.

?I know how frustrating it is when your work is overlooked, taken for granted and when you?re expected to clean up the messes of others,? Daniel finally said, taking Kain by surprise. ?I?ve been there too. When I first became Crypt?s avatar, I dreamed that I?d build an Empire who would worship him as much as you and I. Yet, Crypt never gave me his blessings to go forth and win wars and take land, instead he asked me to put down my sword and shovel and go to an ancient field.
?There I saw bodies scattered. Orc and man alike, both decaying making ot near impossible to tell race apart. Crypt then told me, ?were I not to do my duties and pay my respect to the dead as I did to the living, this is what would happen. Heroes would never be known, those who died would be unsung and the married would never know whether their husband would come home.?
?Kain, ambition and realism is what drives every other kingdom and empire forward, but who will look after those they leave behind? We move at out own pace, saving those we meet along the way.?

Kain bowed before this. ?I understand,? he replied humbly.

With the wards repainted, the men headed back for Hedes.

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/vLlJ7WCjmQI/viewtopic.php

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