Rise of the ancients IC
In a room marked by ancient seals sat leaders of many nations. They were discussing the threat of the cult. The descendants were sat in the back. Well, the ones that weren't hostile. As the leaders argued, Goliath and Sharaiyu were standing watch. They were cautious for many reasons. The cult had put a price on the descendants and so they expected traitors among the leaders. Goliath had grown tired of the arguing and stepped up to the plate. "I will lead the descendants on their journey. My knowledge of the ancients is vital, my blade is ready to serve. If we are to gather the power to defeat the cult...you must entrust them to me. I will take care of them, my blade remains theirs until death separates me from them." Goliath walked off to Sharaiyu and continued to look about. The leaders looked among each other and agreed that the descendants were to go with Goliath. It is now time for those descendants to ready up for their journey is now starting...and it will be far from over.
On a vast green field, she sat under a tree that provided her with shade, blocking out the sun that was glaring down from the sky but allowing rays of light to creep in. She held out her sword and examined it as it glistened under the ray of lights. She brought it back close to her and began polishing it gently. The wind sang through the field and the flowers danced to the breeze. The air smelled of flowers and the birds were chirping loudly. It was early in the morning and she was already awake, preparing herself for the journey. All she needed to bring with her was her sword and some spare clothes. She stood up and gently put her sword back to it's scabbard. She picked up her white suitcase and stepped out from the shade of the tree as she headed for the meeting place, reviving the dead flowers with her presence as she gracefully walked pass them. Her name was Ivory Frost. Descendant of Mythious, Ancient of Light.
"Let me go! I'm sorr-!"
The air was damp due to the smell of blood and tears. A man kneeled in the center of a dusty warehouse, eyes gagged by a dirty-looking rag. Or towel. His body was scarred, bloody, and rusted from weeks of neglect. A tray of food rested by his knees, though he dared not to eat it. The only thing covering his privaties was a ragged pair of pants, barely held up by a bloody sash.
A boy, appearing to be about 17 or 18, rested lazily over a comfortable-looking cot. He was located in one of the shadow-y corners of the room, away from the smell of blood and waste. He had spiked-back silver/grey hair that rested an inch or two above his tailbone, with a light black robe covering his pale body from any eyes. His own eyes were a sickly green, which glinted with malicious intent. He wore no footwear, despite the splinters and glass shards covering the grimy warehouse floor.
The boy, Vladimir, glanced over to his prisoner. The man had tried to mug him a few weeks ago, and failed. Vladimir had knocked him unconcious, and dragged him over to his home base. Over the brief few weeks, he had watched the man slowly beg for his rotten life. It was very entertaining. Very entertaining indeed.
Now, however, he needed to leave. Vladimir sighed monotonously and stood up, ignoring the small amount of splinters that wedged itself into his flesh. He didn't take anything with him, other than a few poultices that he had wrapped within the folds of his robe. He could just steal clothing from any travelers they passed by. Or something.
As Vlad passed by the bound man, he entertained the thought of killing him. He wouldn't return to his cozy little warehouse for a while.
Then he heard the man's muffled sobs and cries of help.
Vladimir smiled cruelly, only a small upturn of his lips. A smirk, really.
'He could stay here. Just to keep the house...warmed for when I come back.'
He left the warehouse.
Vincent watched as Goliath announced that he will lead the Descendants. He stood up and went over to his supplies. He had already packed up the items he will need. The items include a bookbag to carry the items. Three bottles of water, some books about the Ancients, some hygiene supplies, and some pairs of clothes. After picking up his bag, and headed towards Goliath so he may start his jouney. Thus starts the journey of Vincent Willow, Descendant of the Ancient who's life flowed like water Valrence.
Eric had been near Goliath after he made his speech. Eric didn't have much to bring. All he had brought was a book, titled "Arts of Magic! Manipulating your environment." Eric had already read on how to use his mana to control Earth. On the journey he would be studying on how to manipulate other elements. "Sorry if I'm interrupting but where exactly are we going?" He had asked Goliath. The journey of Eric Drone, descendant of the wise one Marien.
Jericho bowed after a tumultuous applause from the surrounding audience. He was performing upon a nearby city square-having 'seemingly appeared from one side of the stage to the other'. As the applaus died down he addressed the crowd," Thank you very much everyone, it wouldn't be possible to entertain without appreciation such as this."
With that he placed his top hat onto his head and smoothly strutted towards the meeting place. Within hours he arrived and sought out 'Goliath.'
Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.
A scythe waved in the air, splashing the blood on the trees around them. A guy in black robes turned around as his one eye focused on the last person standing. The scythe waved in his hand skillfully as his victim shuddered in fear.
"Don't kill me please! I'll do anything.. ANYTHING!" the man begged as the psychopathic killer laughed.
"Anything eh? Tell you what.." the killer chuckled. "Stand up."
The injured man stood up as he wobbled on his one good leg.
"Turn around." the killer ordered as his victim also did so.
The man waved his scythe as it fell down on the victim's spine, causing a scream from the victim to be heard.
"How does it feel to have your spine..." the killer laughed like crazy as he wedged his scythe on the victim's spine. "TORN OUT?!" the victim's spine was pulled out of his back as the man shuddered and breathed his last.
"That's what they all say..." the killer chuckled as he wiped his scythe clean of blood.
Suddenly, a voice pierced the massacre which made the killer turn around.
"Nerog... On a killing spree once again." another person in black robes spoke.
"These thieves wanted my money... Well, they can take mine to the grave." Nerog spat on the dead person's corpse as he turned to the man speaking him.
"As a member of the Cult... You know our mission. To release the Lost One." the man sternly spoke as Nerog sat on the corpse.
"I know. Let me guess.. You'll want me to search for the Descendants and bring them dead or alive." Nerog glared as he stood up and carried the spine he pulled out.
"You know me well." the man chuckled as Nerog approached him and smashed the spine on the man's face. "Insane as always."
Nerog started on the road, scythe in hand...
"Their twilight approaches."
Goliath was ready to answer Erics question until he saw Jericho. "Jericho. You need to be here sooner. As a member of the white knights, this surpasses every other duty you uphold."
Sharaiyu looked to Eric. "Our fist destination is a special place to be honest. Our order calls it the library of Masrith. That's what the ancients called it anyway. Many just call it the ancients library, that's what rumor says. Very few know its true name. It's true name is called Mariens archives. We got to seek Marien, he is still alive in those archives and we need to ask him a few questions. The road there is dangerous though. The archives are hidden in the base of the west mountains. Many orcs between us and that library right now. Quickest route is through the Mauscin path, but even I would not try to go that path."
Luna stood in the back watching the other descendants that did come. She wasn't on any side quite yet, she was the descendant of Zaniah the Celestial Ancient who thrived in both darkness and light. So how could Luna choose. She currently wore a black cloak that hid her well she stood in the shadows listening and observing. Not knowing which side to choose she would watch both sides from a distance.
Yawning with a chuckle, Matthew walks forward from a shadowy area, a blind spot to most directions and says, "Mauscin path? It's not as bad as people make out, especially these days, onl" with a glance to his bag. Inside was some books, food, clothing and the old mask he used to wear in his old town. He feels his eagle Fracture nosing his neck, and he shakes his head a bit, whispering to the bird. Then he turns back to Sharaiyu, and says "I for one say straight through Mauscin, time and safety aren't luxuries we have, if we can't get through a few orc camps we're not going to be able to confront this cult," with a steady smirk the whole time.
Jericho was still looking around for Goliath and getting a little impatient at having not seen him yet... How hard can it be to find a big hulk of metal?? He asked himself silently...
Then he heard his name and turned to see Goliath scolding him... Unfortunately, this time he agreed with the man. "Yes, your right, I should of put off my performance in order to ensure our safety..." Then he turned to listen to Sharaiyu give a briefing on their next location. Then some guy he didn't recognize turned up and added his piece to their conversation.
Jericho smiled politely at the fellow, "Well you seem to be a carefree fellow. I don't believe we've met, I'm Jericho." He introduced himself, offering out his hand to the man.