Goldeagle1221 — Roleplayer Guild

The Restless Fires

Many many centuries ago.

	“On your knees!”

	The grim command barked past the rushing screams of the crowd. The high sun dried the throat of Vrindle as his body was knocked forward by a shove. His dusty lungs coughed and his palms caught the ground. Blood stained eyes looking forward into the grey earth.

	A shimmering trinket swung like a pendulum on a chain that surrounded his neck. Its scarlet orb pendant staring at his beaten features. A gloved hand reach under him to snatch the artifact, but a command rang in denial.

	“Let the volcano see, leave its eye on its chosen.”

	A hush fell over the once hollering crowd that surrounded the broken man at the sight of the decision. Vrindle’s ears stretched to hear somebody other than his own troubled breathing, but the voice of the volcano that had brought him here was long gone and only the distant chirp of a songbird sweetened his pained mind.

	A swift black boot swung underneath Vrindle and cracked his ribs with a loud thwack. A hot breath was forced out between pained groans as the man’s lungs struggled raggedly. The eye swung and bumped his nose, propelled by the strike. 

	A rough hand slapped the back of Vrindle’s scalp, sending a feeling as though his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. The thick hand grabbed his hair and yanked back, sending Vrindle’s eyesight of the sight in front of him, and exposing his twitching throat to his enemies.

	Many eyes watched him in makeshift stands, and the sun pulsed in the deserted blue sky. Dust kicked from the scorched summer earth and watered his eyes with a stinging dryness. His breaths felt like swallowing paper and coughing rocks, and his skin itched with such ferocity it felt like it was going to rip itself asunder out of a shrinking pain.

	 A thin blade as red as the blood of its previous victims came into view. The crowd seemed to shift in their seats with what could be interest or possibly sick anticipation. It’s edge was so thin that it could barely be seen as its magical blade shimmered a grim glow under the sun. 

	A loud boom shook the ground and the crowd panicked. The blade fell to the dusty earth and Vrindle collapsed onto his chest. Slowly he rolled onto his back, his ears screaming as they adjusted from another blast of sound. 

	A pillar of smoke rose to the blue sky as he heard the screams and shouts of people rushing around him when another blast launched a black orb into his vision, only to exit his sight and crash into a crumbling stone wall.

	A friend's voice called out as the explosions continued.

	“Vrindle! Get up!”

Boom.

	The sounds of two armies clashing started to pollute the sulfur filled air as the friend continued to yell at the unresponsive Vrindle. 

	Feet shuffled and blades sang through the air while Vrindle slowly sucked in a rotten breath of acrid air. 

	“It’s over.” He coughed, just loud enough to be heard by the man who had slid out of his vision and by his side. Flecks of light danced in his fading vision as  a calloused hand grabbed his own,  blonde head came into view. 

	“Not yet.”

	Vrindle groaned, and dark veins popped from his skin, spider webbing his neck, “it’s too late.”

	“It can’t be.”

	“We failed.”

	“We couldn’t, not with such power.”

	“We did.”

“You did.”

	A hairy figure appeared by the side of the two friends. The beastly man’s short figure was wrinkled with smooth baby like skin and white bushy hair that fell from its scalp to cover its thin, angular body. 

	“Please, no.” The blonde begged.

	“We failed,” Vrindle looked over at the Bannik, the hairy man.

	“The razor of Shkaakk ravishes the land, the boom of Brimstone destroys our cities, the sinister blade of sting eats at my soul as we speak, and we are forsaken by the magic we released.”

	“Not yet!” The blonde put a firm hand over Vrindle’s gasping mouth. Sharp eyes raised towards the Bannik.

	“The book! We can still find to the book and fix all of this.”

	“It’s too late.”

	“But the book!”

	“It’s time.”

	“It can’t be,” The blonde argued.

	“It is mad,” Vrindle whispered into the palm of the blonde.

	“It is furious,” The Bannik agreed, “it yells. It is time to return.”

	Slowly the Bannik reached over and grasped the small necklace around Vrindle’s neck, pulling it off from around his neck with his hairy fingers.

	“But the book.” A sob echoed out as another blast shook the ground. Vrindle closed his eyes, and the world turned dark. Slowly his mind evaded the sounds of war outside his body and focused on the rough torrent of breaths that struggled out his nose. Anxiety tickled his heart as he clenched his fists with impatience. 

	Quickly the back of his eyelids flashed pink, a sharp burn tormented his body, heat and the terrible smell haunted his senses and stung him unmercifully. The screams faded behind the waves of air from flicking flames, and soon the cold darkness of death stole him from the fire. 

--------

Present day

	Shafts of golden sunlight broke the thick emerald canopy. Sweet songs tickled the aged ears of a Bannik who sat in a cold little puddle. The ground was cool to the touch, and an earthy smell thickened the calm jungle air. 

	The beauty of the jungle floor flowers fell unknowing to the sitting Bannik as he kept his eyes closed, a small crooked smile on his resting face. On his open palms there lay a scar, burnt into his flesh in the shape of the necklace that is known as the eye of the volcano.

	His tiny chest puffed with air as his nostrils flared and his mind remained stagnant in meditation. Little thought passed through his mind’s eye if any at all, and yet euphoria of purpose kept a happy flutter in his stomach as he awaited the voice of the master of the Bannik to grace his conscience. 

	His skin exposed where his long shaggy hair didn’t cover shivered and prickled with goosebumps suddenly. His smile twisted into a frown and he nodded with understanding. A mysterious voice echoed in his mind, and while beautiful to his thoughts, it’s message sent a chill up his elder spine. 

	A single eye opened wide, and a large red eye pulsed with dilation as the glow of the invading sun adjusted his vision. 

	“It has returned to be revealed.”

	A cold whisper tickled his throat as he talked into his lap, his eyes on the brackish water he sat in. Slowly his knees popped from their once sedimentary position and he began his slow stroll back home. His legs moved with hesitation, his sense of eagerness to arrive back at the volcano homes of the other Bannik was diluted with the task he had received in his meditations; it was time to reveal the locations of the long coveted and destructive power of the artifacts once used to great devastation. It was time to bring upon all of the land of Illyria the power so deadly and so menacing, it was time to trust the mundane with divinity once more.

	The volcano had willed it once again, and its first will was for the nations to know where the eye rests. The Bannik sighed, he must send out his brethren to the nations the news, for what the volcano wills, he does, as it always had been. 

	He did remember a time, a peaceful time. His fingers curled into a fist, the hair of his knuckles giving it a white fringe. Perhaps this time will be different; maybe this time will revive the days of peace. 
	He bit his lip, but through what door must the land of Illyrica pass to find the atrium of heaven. Was a destination even possible in this life? It wasn’t for him to decide.

Throughout the story, the Volcano will randomly be selecting nations, characters or the world to send boons, curses, or dreams too, as well as reveal locations of volcanic artifacts. In these hiders I will explain what is happening.

This is our first event, and here is what has happened:  a world event (every nation knows and is affected)

What exactly happened? The Eye of the Volcano (artifact) is now revealed. It’s location has been revealed to be in the ruins of a settlement next to Astraea, Ethea. Happy hunting.

 The Volcano’s eye (a small swirling orb of scarlet laced on a necklace chain, it is said beneath its glossy surface holds the truth)[Receive unique dream, requesting for wearer to become the Volcano’s champion], (receive all Aura’s while wearing it.)
auras:

 Charisma (suddenly intensely liked and easily agreed to) 
 Extrasensory ( all senses amplified at a whim, and agility increased)
 Favored (immune to first curse experienced (unless received from failure while holding eye) , voids all existing curses and conditions, Favored is never killed or maimed in Random Nation or World events or targeted by the Volcano because of another’s failure)
 Mundane (Cannot receive tasks through random dreams)
 Pure (cannot suffer illnesses, voids all existing illnesses)
The Gift (endowed with the ability to enchant)

**If wearer of the Volcano’s eye ignores/fails/ or refuses the volcano, automatically lose the eye and roll for a fail punishment (omit 8), lose all auras, lose all artifacts, lose all boons, lose true favor, gain Nemesis Aura.

 Nemesis (next redirected curse automatically goes to this character, [unless redirection rolls on the one doing the cursing] void after cursed)

PLEASE NOTE THAT ETHEA IS KNOWN TO THE WORLD AS A LONG DEAD RELIC STATE
Goldeagle1221 Member

I am Spartacus!

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