A huge shadow roams the land, seen by few. Hiding within the depths of the wilderness building his strength once again.
"Betrayed... I will make them all pay." His words echo within the cold dark places, heard by only the other dark things that lingered there with him, feasting off the death in his wake.
Rise from Failure
Moderator: Gamemasters
Re: Rise from Failure
A flicker of hope showed itself to Gray in the form of a large, memorable shadow gliding past the window and resting on the old wooden floor of the Hemp Necktie Inn as its owner arrived at the establishment's door. 'Where the rumors true', 'was he still alive...'? Well, It turned out it was true and he was. Gray's ally had returned and that meant he wasn't alone anymore. Not alone in the sense of lack of a conversation nor company, yet in the sharing of ideals and vision. The conniving Dreadhart had shown his face around the common lands of Illarion once again and that meant others would soon follow.
"Greetin's, fella... Still alive, ey?" Jefferson mused as he adjusted his cuffs casually. Apparently so as not to appear foolish nor startled.
It had been a while since the two had set eyes upon each other but it was clear nothing had changed. They both still craved revenge and their signature forms of justice. In essence, it would seem that old habits died hard. Or, as it were, die only when they are killed. This or nothing, it was that which drove them.
It seemed like only yesterday to Gray that he and Dreadhart were on the brink of something big. Casting his mind back to when the two found themselves aligned in what began as a Galmairian rebellion movement against the zealot, tyrannic and often hostile hands of Cadomyr and their allies, Runewick. He was reminded of the regretful defeat in the ill prepared battle and the prolonged humiliation and lack of support that they received from the higher echelons and even the Don of Galmair himself, that followed it.
'So much time wasted', Gray sneered as he thought of the time they both spent trying to convince Galmair to help them and the large following they had. Too much time invested for such a pathetic result. With such a lack of support, the fate of the groups structure of the time was inevitable in that the movement would merely dissolve back into shadows.
Not even when Gray did go a legitimate pathway to build a reliable and formidable power structure in Galmair would 'the boss people', as he called them, choose to support it. After the Don, the chancellors would single handedly be responsible as those who cast the water to solitary flame and extinguish the last remaining vigil of hope in Galmair, as Gray had seen it. Only interested in themselves, they couldn't even be bothered to raise their rich fat arses out to serve the common folk. Theirs and the Don's often 'authoritative' and 'disengaged' behavior toward the Galmairian rebels made Gray sick to his stomach. They were all talk with no substance. Leaders to a stagnate town with less and less citizens.
"Galmair is a joke. A has been nothing. A lingering shadow of its former shadow's shadow... A spectacle so entirely Pitiful to behold!" Gray abrupted.
The anger inside the old rogue, Gray, rose to the point of fury quite sporadically in recent days. Every time his mind would wander and come to remember these facts his eyes watered and his body came to tremble as a result of hideous anger. Old rogues may grow old but the light in the heart of the ideal tends to only cease when it is put out forcibly. And though Gray's body grew slower, and weathered, the strength of the magical gemstones that in these days ruled the lands of Illarion allowed him to push on, enabling the light to continue to flicker and increase in intensity.
"Where are my manners... Gray cackled
Let us start again, Dreadhart. How can I help?"
Gray decided that the memories of what could have been were not to be how his story would end...
"Greetin's, fella... Still alive, ey?" Jefferson mused as he adjusted his cuffs casually. Apparently so as not to appear foolish nor startled.
It had been a while since the two had set eyes upon each other but it was clear nothing had changed. They both still craved revenge and their signature forms of justice. In essence, it would seem that old habits died hard. Or, as it were, die only when they are killed. This or nothing, it was that which drove them.
It seemed like only yesterday to Gray that he and Dreadhart were on the brink of something big. Casting his mind back to when the two found themselves aligned in what began as a Galmairian rebellion movement against the zealot, tyrannic and often hostile hands of Cadomyr and their allies, Runewick. He was reminded of the regretful defeat in the ill prepared battle and the prolonged humiliation and lack of support that they received from the higher echelons and even the Don of Galmair himself, that followed it.
'So much time wasted', Gray sneered as he thought of the time they both spent trying to convince Galmair to help them and the large following they had. Too much time invested for such a pathetic result. With such a lack of support, the fate of the groups structure of the time was inevitable in that the movement would merely dissolve back into shadows.
Not even when Gray did go a legitimate pathway to build a reliable and formidable power structure in Galmair would 'the boss people', as he called them, choose to support it. After the Don, the chancellors would single handedly be responsible as those who cast the water to solitary flame and extinguish the last remaining vigil of hope in Galmair, as Gray had seen it. Only interested in themselves, they couldn't even be bothered to raise their rich fat arses out to serve the common folk. Theirs and the Don's often 'authoritative' and 'disengaged' behavior toward the Galmairian rebels made Gray sick to his stomach. They were all talk with no substance. Leaders to a stagnate town with less and less citizens.
"Galmair is a joke. A has been nothing. A lingering shadow of its former shadow's shadow... A spectacle so entirely Pitiful to behold!" Gray abrupted.
The anger inside the old rogue, Gray, rose to the point of fury quite sporadically in recent days. Every time his mind would wander and come to remember these facts his eyes watered and his body came to tremble as a result of hideous anger. Old rogues may grow old but the light in the heart of the ideal tends to only cease when it is put out forcibly. And though Gray's body grew slower, and weathered, the strength of the magical gemstones that in these days ruled the lands of Illarion allowed him to push on, enabling the light to continue to flicker and increase in intensity.
"Where are my manners... Gray cackled
Let us start again, Dreadhart. How can I help?"
Gray decided that the memories of what could have been were not to be how his story would end...
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Mephistopheles
- Posts: 1059
- Joined: Sun Jul 21, 2013 10:04 pm
- Location: Murica
Re: Rise from Failure
Sitting quietly atop the mountain Ulquiorra prods a smoldering pile of dead flesh seemingly used as fuel for a fire, muscles and sinew still squirming with their foul tenacity.
The pieces were setting into place slowly. This web will take time to weave, yet I need to please the restless chaotic souls..This will be difficult.
Looking out over the island from their mountain, his gaze seems longing. The land was surely cursed, but he will make it his home. The Free City of Juumajistan, there's a future here, he could feel it. He could feel the cold dark power here, fueled by the lust and rage of the dead and the scars of massacre and genocide. Skeletons still lied in their beds clutching their possessions or even smaller skeletons. This island offered a single rich resource, but also an army of aimless dead ripe for harvesting for fuel in his demented experiments.
With Jefferson and the others by side he can't fail.. not this time.
The pieces were setting into place slowly. This web will take time to weave, yet I need to please the restless chaotic souls..This will be difficult.
Looking out over the island from their mountain, his gaze seems longing. The land was surely cursed, but he will make it his home. The Free City of Juumajistan, there's a future here, he could feel it. He could feel the cold dark power here, fueled by the lust and rage of the dead and the scars of massacre and genocide. Skeletons still lied in their beds clutching their possessions or even smaller skeletons. This island offered a single rich resource, but also an army of aimless dead ripe for harvesting for fuel in his demented experiments.
With Jefferson and the others by side he can't fail.. not this time.
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Mephistopheles
- Posts: 1059
- Joined: Sun Jul 21, 2013 10:04 pm
- Location: Murica
Re: Rise from Failure
The day took careful planning, calculation. There was a frenzy, one battle after the next, gleefully cutting down his sworn enemies. We were the Two Kings today, fighting side by side, a battle to sing of! Oh, how they will call us traitors and cowards, we were but two men! The gods of cruelty and vengeance have brought his seething soul salvation.Meaningless battles.. meaningless victories and defeats.. Don't you see?
Coming back to make his demands, he went to Galmair's gates and saw no one. Upon entering the cavern ritual site he was immediately accosted and attacked by the Galmairians. Jacob... I forgot that one was as strong as he was.. A gash in the shoulder, where his armor kinked. In the end we're only so strong.. we must keep pushing... pushing. Stumbling onto the floor of a safehouse the huge man plummets from consciousness and thuds onto the floor. Too exausted, his body beaten from the frenzied fighting.
The void of sleep clawed at his ambitions, Screaming to let go.. As the sun rises, the screams turn to whispers. Meaningless.. pointless..You have no destiny..You are nothing...
Coming back to make his demands, he went to Galmair's gates and saw no one. Upon entering the cavern ritual site he was immediately accosted and attacked by the Galmairians. Jacob... I forgot that one was as strong as he was.. A gash in the shoulder, where his armor kinked. In the end we're only so strong.. we must keep pushing... pushing. Stumbling onto the floor of a safehouse the huge man plummets from consciousness and thuds onto the floor. Too exausted, his body beaten from the frenzied fighting.
The void of sleep clawed at his ambitions, Screaming to let go.. As the sun rises, the screams turn to whispers. Meaningless.. pointless..You have no destiny..You are nothing...
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Mephistopheles
- Posts: 1059
- Joined: Sun Jul 21, 2013 10:04 pm
- Location: Murica
Re: Rise from Failure
Treachery, shameful deceit.. I'll make them pay. I'll give them the Only Blessing, as I did to Father.
Shaking from the intense burns on his hands, he carefully treats them.He had been caught off guard by an innocent halfing, Perhaps she was in on it? He shakes his head. She would not have given me such descriptions if she was involved. He knew who it was, at least he thought he did. He knew why as well.
"Viktor!" He shouts into another room. "The Spider commands you write something! Quickly now!" A blank eyed man shambles in, "Yes, my Lord..."
They'll pay... dearly
Shaking from the intense burns on his hands, he carefully treats them.He had been caught off guard by an innocent halfing, Perhaps she was in on it? He shakes his head. She would not have given me such descriptions if she was involved. He knew who it was, at least he thought he did. He knew why as well.
"Viktor!" He shouts into another room. "The Spider commands you write something! Quickly now!" A blank eyed man shambles in, "Yes, my Lord..."
They'll pay... dearly