The Darker Journey

[alexandercadeyrn]

This thread is basically my attempt to weave my characters into a storyline that leads from one to another, trying to get back to my passion of writing unfinished stories. Feel free to posts comments or criticism, since writing feels worthless if you don't know someone else also read it

Chapter one: The Splinters We Lost
„Those who find us are those who will bind us.“ – Songs of the chained Princess

It was a dark day, but then again, at this place they all were. The young sorcerer who had just taken seat next to the burning lava fountain in the center of Katan smirked a bit while playing with the 3 different magical chips he had brought along to understand how they worked.
When the dim, yet hot light emitted from the fountain hit the lesser chips he threw into the air with his right hand in this one certain angle, it almost seemed like they merged, giving form to a distorted preview of the stronger third chip he held in his left fist, feeling the energy it emanated.
He knew that energy, actually more than many of the adventurers around, having not only felt how it made his necklace forget with primitive magic charged up, but also having ripped the same kind of energy, this inner life force from the monsters he had killed for those same merchants gave the chips to him, healing his wounds with their pain.
Of course, he also knew his dark arts were little compared to some of the other Asurans, be them angels of the darker god many called the god of destruction, or just distorted breeds, who went in and out of the capital of the former Asuran Empire, this city of Katan.
Most of them just seemed like the people he had met on that tiny island where he was awakened, bare of memory and feeling like he lost something important but couldn't regain it on his own.
Some others emanated such a strong violence that it made their auras pulse in a dark red tone, marking them outlaws who would be legal to kill if this city wasn't a holy place to the darker god, who despite all the traits that separated him from the goddes of light still kept the pact of holy grounds being free of men killing men, no matter which of the three races they were born to.

He looked further into the well, still burning hot and almost forgot himself there for a moment, while the flames rising from the pool of molten stones reflected the flames that formed his soul, those flames his race contained within them, even those distorted breeds who looked more Gaian than Asura to him.

When he gazed upon the flames for a time beyond what he could measure, it seemed almost like he could see a flicker of the future, filled with fights, a path layed out before his eyes he couldn't grasp but yet could see somehow, flickering just like the flames.

„If you look to deep, you might find out what burned and died by this fire, and I wouldn't bet you are going to like that, my young friend.“

[to be continued, next post in a few hours when I'm back up]

[alexandercadeyrn]

The sorcerer, ripped from his otherworldly vision abruptly by the female voice so close to him, emanating such power compared to how weak he felt, turned around, whispering words he just had learned a few days ago, in the movement throwing a card to the ground from which, slowly, a pile of bones rose, forming a skeleton that might have once been of a human race, just bones and magic binding them to serve his will right now: „I don't know who you are, but with all your strength you emanate, with your powerful armor and your mighty Axe, you are still but a Gaian far from home.
Some of us do not like you here, and on the grounds of the god that is said to have created us, you will not be able to slay me, weak as my magic may be to you, Druid.“

„Is that so? I have died so many times, one more will just make me a little bit more tired when the magic bound to me calls me back once again. However, I do not wish to do anything to you but talk. So tell me: is there still a tavern in this burning hell you call a city where I can quench my thirst instead of having to use my magic just to breathe this heated air?“, she laughed while looking at him unimpressed: „of course you might as well go back to your vision dreams, looking at them instead of actually living them, if you'll even be able to ever do so.“

He looked back at the woman, recognizing her armor as one of those said to be found in the old relics called the shrine of palmir plateau, though some of the other items found on her did not seem like anything he ever even believed in, like those silver earrings that looked like light melt into form, or her necklace almost looking like it was a drop of blood. A drop, ha... more like enough to kill the one who had to donate it for the creation of this artifact of magic.

„Yes, there is a tavern in this town, and at this time of the day it will be such a barren place that nobody will be there to care about the palmir raider and her magic artifacts talking to the outsider that just arrived.“

She nodded: „very well, let's get to that tavern then, before my manapool bleeds dry from this thing you call a well“, already setting herself in motion towards the tavern, showing that she had been here before.
When he saw her moving away from the burning well, he also finally realised how she could stay as close to the fire as one of his kind would rarely dare, much less most of those Gaian born: drops of water flung around her, shimmering with a light that seemed familiar, though he couldn't recall why.

[ next part will be posted later ]

[alexandercadeyrn]

In the tavern, empty as he had expected it, another surprise was waiting for him, as the druid he had followed almost like in trance was spoken to by the barman, in a voice that despite the lack of friendlyness seemed like they were no strangers to each other: „so you have really returned, Lady Ryana. The magician you met here 2 years ago said you would, never mentioned why or when though. He also said you will be free now that you're back, once you finally fulfilled the task you're bound to.“
The last sentence, the sorcerer realized, was not the barmans voice but something else, calling echoes deep inside him, echoes of a life he never lifed, so much he knew for sure, like a spell bound to the poor servant that didn't even look like he had heard himself what he just said.
The Gaian woman nodded: „Bring to us a glass of water each, crystal clear from my beloved horizon, in those two glasses painted so beautifully by the artists from the capital of the alliance, those two glasses bearing the symbols of Rondo. They were probably mine anyway, such a long time ago when I didn't value what my own kind could achieve and came here broke and desperate, isn't that so?“

Shivering, the halfbred Asuran servant who was in fact just little more than a slave nodded. „I will do as you ask, Mylady“, he said, his voice already fading while the druid sang a tune of magic casting silence between the two of them and him.

„So you are the reason why I had to die, over and over, take burning wounds to my soul that will probably never heal, despite the fact you even took away my races blessing, a death inflicted by age“, she started to talk, looking at him with an expression he failed to understand, somewhere between hope, relief and desperation, „I hope that you are worth it, but since I have no choice I'm not the one to test your potential or your will to walk the bloody path that's layed out for you. In either way, you probably have no idea what I am talking about, and I wish I could say the same of myself“, she continoued in a voice that for a second sounded drained of all the power that she seemed to have inside her, then stopped again just to take the glass the servant had silently put on the table and take a sip of water from it before raising her voice again, this time strong again like it was when she first talked to him: „Many years ago, I left my own kinds homelands, left the city of horizon I was born to, desperate because she that was later called the witch had lied to us and no hope seemed to be gained from ourselves anymore, to seek out your kind and those called the Deva, seek for answers and maybe for a purpose.
When I came to Katan the first time, I met another one of your kind, resembling you a lot, just like you an almost pure bred.
Please, don't be offended, these days nobody is really of pure breed anymore, with the pure Asuran blood mixed to my own kinds and sometimes even that of the Deva. But don't worry, for them it's probably worse, with their nobility that thinks they're pure, while in realited they added inbreeding to the bastard state they were in already for generations, losing even more to it.
Anyway, this guy I met back then was a dark magician. He seemed impressive to me, but it wasn't hard to impress me back then, having just started this journey and him being almost ready for the robes of a full-blown Warlock, which he may or may not have taken up these days.
He told me that I would have a purpose, live a life that would make a difference, though it would be hard and wearing and he could not accompany me in any way that would ease it on me.
The next thing seemed strange to me back then, though over time I started understanding, having met others who seemed to be bound in similar though maybe sometimes weaker or stronger ways: he apologized to me, whispering he wouldn't have a choice, almost in tears telling me that he was sick of what he was and would no longer want to live an incomplete and broken life, while I, horrified as I was back then by this dark magician casting and talking to me, could not move a finger, much less fight or run away, as the seals he had prepared already held me in place, leaving me half awake and half asleep, trapped in a spell he cast so easily while being not much older than you are.
I am not sure how long he had me trapped, but I do remember clearly when he left. He told me I would not meet him again, not in this body, and even if I did it would not matter, since what was most important he had gifted now upon me. A gift, he called it, but it really was a curse: he branded me with an inner marking on my essence, left much of his essence and his will to live and fight within my wounded soul, sometimes making me feel like I was not myself anymore at all or maybe going mad since I could hear his voice, telling me without words in which direction I should go, where I would find access to greater power, where evil had to be fought.
Ever since that day, I was more than just an adventurer, and still he took so much from me. I didn't age a single day, the Deva healers in Laksy telling me they wouldn't know without even trying to find out what had happened, like they were afraid themselves.
My journey led me to the relics of arid moonlight, which is maybe where your search should start as well, once you get back what belongs to you and was forced upon me. This is your inheritance, and I hope when I am rid of it, I finally find rest.“

[to be continued]

[alexandercadeyrn]

At her last sentences, the young sorcerer looked more than confused, since while she talked she started laying out a deck of cards on the table, shimmering cards just like the one that sealed his skeleton minion and bound it to his will, but not all of them tools of summoning, bearing symbols that reminded him of something he had learned before but once again it seemed like he couldn't really catch the memory.

„These cards will help you in your journey, as soon as you have learned to master what it takes to use them. Some are very rare and you should be careful not to show them to the assassins controlling this city from that monchastry they call the guild, or they might force you now while they still can to give to them what they consider a dark divine right of theirs.
One of these cards contains the soul of my companion. Yes, not an undead thing like that skeleton of yours, but a living being bound to it, an Orc I bought a long time ago and raised as my brother in arms ever since, fighting countless fights side by side, even ripping ancient artifacts from the hands of the mighty one now called betrayal, known as the guardian before he was corrupted.
Do not think I like the idea of you having it, since I know how ruthless you will be in time, but once more it is not my choice to make, and the price to pay to make my journey end.
The other cards contain the spiritual representation of weapons and armors, or more, of the purpose of weapon and armors, and used wisely those cards I gave you will make him a guardian to you, a protector until you can protect yourself.“

She chuckled, though he wasn't sure how much humor and how much irony she had in it, then she raised her hand, lightning spreading out to him, faster than he realized what happened: „I almost forgot... to give the fragment of the soul of the lord of the underworld you have once been or will once be, which really I don't know for sure, to you. I pray that we will never have to meet again, that I can finally go home.“

The last words she said already faded, he could barely listen to her voice while the world around him faded into darkness, and the last thing that he heard was almost his own voice, telling him about an offer he could not refuse, while he slowly faded out, falling unconcsious, unable to fight it, overwhelmed by the forced re-merge with the soul fragment he had lost so many incarnations ago, the burning pain of two incarnation lines separated for to long and in a way to violent to just be fixed, fusing back together, twisting and burning inside his mind, driving him deeper and deeper into darkness until he dropped to the ground, with the Druid woman already out of the door, weaving a very short spell bound to a very powerful source into the air with her fingers, vanishing on the guards running towards the tavern with nothing but the smell of lightning burns left where she stood just a minute ago.
And while the spell dragged her to a place hidden in the mountains far from the ways accessable to anyone but the gods in case they should bother and those who knew the spell to cast or had the right to use the teleport gates ran by the secret association, she laughed. Almost afraid of her own voice at first, like she did not believe it, then louder with every following laughter.
She was finally free and she could finally rest.

[end of chapter I]

[alexandercadeyrn]

Chapter two: Into The Burning Light
„For my master I live, for him I kill and at his will for him I die.“ – Songs of the chained Princess

He travelled the journey of those before him. It was not only a restoration of his original soul, a rare gift making him one of the few fully reincarnated despite the fragmentation of the original asuran souls when they started to mix with other races, but also a gift of memory and experience.

His name was Alexander, reincarnation of an asuran warlords soul, or so the memories of the dark magician that had carried the second fragment of his soul told him.
Long ago, this dark magician had come to Katan, seeking answers to why he felt so incomplete, seeking the truth about this realm and his own origins. Back then he met an Assassin who helped him to access the library of the guild, despite every rule that he had to break for it.
In this library, old books, written long before the time of the witch and her followers, told a different story than the modern tales told by those who held the power in Katan and Laksy, saying that the original pure Deva and Asura had been able to live more than just one life, reincarnating upon death, taking the memories of their previous lives along.
Then, over time, their bloodlines mixed with those of the other races and they started breeding like the Gaia did, so their incarnations were often split amongst many born souls, making them incomplete, taking from them any kind of access to their memories of former lifes.
Yet there was a ritual that could be cast, a way to restore what had been lost, and the dark magician was so desperate to regain what had been taken from him, that he took the risk of losing everything, his sole existance if it should fail, just to find the lost fragments of his soul and regain access to who he was before.
It was then he learned he, himself, was a fragment, while someone else carried the core of his soul, that completeness to him would be to sacrifice his Asuran heritage, to lose what made him a creature of the darker god and become a mere mortal, giving up everything he had thought was his own for the sole purpose of restoring the ancient warlord he now knew he had once been or might once be.
Maybe at this point he would have given up the quest he had begun, but when he cast the ritual he bound his blood and life to the completion of the task, unable now to step back from a promise given to the darker god at the price of his life.
And in the vision imprinted on his mind by the dark ancient ritual, another fragment he had found, even though just a small one, more of a curse than a gift to the woman who carried it, a Gaian Kahuna who was driven by desires she could not understand, trying to find a purpose for her life.
Well a purpose he would give her, casting upon her the spell to bind what he carried of the real Alexanders soul to her, forcing her to prepare the way so he could rise when she would restore him, having her be the messanger since she was stronger than he was, having a real soul of her own, while he himself did not believe he did, feeling doomed at the moment of his discovery.
For that reason under tears he cursed her to fullfil his will, to take up the quest he could not solve and to find the one who would be whole and powerful again.

And then there were her memories of the years that followed, of sieges in the ruins of arid moonlight, wars between guilds and of raids to palmir plateau, of the reopening of the Veiled Island gate when the seal broke and the first raids to the ancients temple where Betrayal was now ruler, him who once was meant to be a guardian and how she joined groups of warriors striving to rip powerful artifacts from the dragons of the temples and their distorted guardian, searching the white and barren wasteland of this veiled island for riches and the weapons to fight another day against the beasts and demons of that place, lost, all of them and without a place to call their home, raiders of ancient ruins that had forgotten the homes they fought for.

And now she would be home again, barely aged a day since she left, back to a world that changed and yet remained the same, stripped of the force that pushed her onwards. But at least she would be home now.

[to be continued]

[alexandercadeyrn]

Home... when Alexander woke up, he only glanced at the room he was in, knowing what had happened and why he was here already since the plan that had him end up here was his own now.
He also knew what had been gifted upon him, drawing the symbols of pure magic into the night on his way out to bind what had once been the druids companions to be their new masters minions.
A brother, a companion... he laughed, since this was not his way. „Manifest yourself“, he commanded, calling out the orc lord bound into the druids card and the little pixies she had added.

„You will now observe my every command. If you have to die so I can live, then so it will be. Maybe you have been treated like an equal by your former master, but to me there is no equal amongst those that are bound to obey.“, then continouing with his eyes fixed on a distant future:
„Since this is the place I know the best now, my rise will start within the relics of the arid moonlight, like it did for the others, using their experience for my gain and the magic of the old places to rise in power.“

Within weeks he learned how little he knew yet, rising to the ranks of a battle summoner, learning the ability to keep more than just one of his minions manifested in a battle and to boost their strengths in battle, but also dark and ancient rituals, having those he enslaved now die for his survival more than once.
And he experienced death, just like the others had though not so frequent. Ancient magic and a few rare artifacts, bottles enchanted to contain the resurrection power native to the fairys, called him back to life, time and time again from the relics of arid moonlight to the lost mines, from the lost mines to the crystal mountain, the distorted home of that crystal species corrupted by man.
But he went further, journeyed to the capital of the alliance and to the temple built on top of palmir plateau, collecting more and more strength with every place he searched for power.

And of course, he made a contract with the merchants association, the same contract that had enabled the druid Ryana to escape so quick when the Katan guards came for her, allowing him to escape back to this secret place, this hidden village shrouded by the location and the strong magic shield around it, a haven to him when he required rest and had to stock up on equipment before he went back to the hostile outside world.

[to be continued, but I need my girlfriend to read the next part before I can post it here and maybe change a few details, so might take a bit longer this time]

[alexandercadeyrn]

It was in this time, on the journey that was still just catching up to those before him, that he met his bride, his love from ancient ages, who had travelled alongside the druid Ryana for quite a while, but it was him, the fragment of his soul Ryana carried what had kept her and it was him to whom she clung now, fighting alongside him even though more than once they fought about the way things should be handled:

„I tell you, it is the way of nature there is slaves and masters and your minions are the tools to your achievements, a way to reach for more but not your little brothers and sisters whom you have to mend and care for! You have to see things my way just for once: enslaved my minions follow blindly and are stronger yet than yours will ever be, because you allow them for their weakness to be excused, instead of forcing them to blind obedience, which is the only way in this world to make your minions into weapons such as mine.“

„So I dare you, tell me, is it that reason why my creatures survive even if I channel the anger of both their and my spirits through them to cast a storm of cutting winds upon those enemies around us, while every ritual you can cast involves a suffering, most of them a bloody sacrifice? Do you believe your companions are stronger because you don't care about them dying?
Then you should know it is me who keeps them strong, since even those you call your slaves lust for attention and for mending of their wounds, while the ruthless of your like cast the cuts you take to hurt their bodies. May their weapons inflict higher damage and the flittering flames you call Fackelschlampe and Blutprinzessin cast spells beyond what my companions can do, it is still my soothing songs and the magic of my blue pixie that keeps them alive to make any use of it at all.“, or another answer like it she would give then, fighting about the way they saw their enchanted creatures and the way they should be used, many times for several days and nights in the taverns of Rondo, then at some point, when they were close to taking the fight out with weapons after to many words, they would again go out on yet another journey, do the one thing they both agreed was right, inflict pain upon the creatures we call monsters, spirits, beast and dragons, slaying them by hundreds, maybe thousands, living out their anger on the outside, so they wouldn't raise hands against each other and their fights would remain on a level strengthening their love instead of turning it to hatred.

[to be continued]

[alexandercadeyrn]

And in this time it was, that the first time in this incarnation also human blood, or that of a Deva to be precise, was on Alexanders hands.
They had, like so many times before, formed a group with adventurers and mercenaries found in the dim light of the capitals taverns, one of them a Devan Knight, a Holy Warrior focussed on protection, hired to protect the group with his shields while the rest of this group would kill under his guard, slay the monsters he kept at arms length away.
But it did not go like that. Many times, Alexander had been using his red pixies in raids for power and for looting ancient goods to these temple ruins, often without companions suited to protect them, but this time it was different.
While they went deeper into the dungeon, at some point happened what had to happen and they were attacked by the monsters filling this place. Of course, they had planned for it, most of them even hoped for it, since they all not only loved looting the stacks of items the monsters had collected from the more naive adventurers that fell to them, but much more they loved the feeling of getting blood on their hands, some of them for challenge, some like Alexander for the thrill of killing, and some, like his companion, for the better of the world and to improve her own abilities.
But something went wrong. The Knight that accompanied them was one of those you often wonder how they even managed to pass the test required for the title to be used.
So while they responded to the monsters attacking them in the usual way, slaying them one by one, fighting their way past a group just to have another attack them from behind again, they made the mistake to trust a stranger, since never before had they met a Knight that was unable to protect.
Alexander at these times still used the skeleton he had the day he met Ryana, stronger now and also able to increase his own abilities in fighting with his dirk, and in addition called forth upon one of his Red Pixies, the one called Blutprinzessin, second born of his twin pixies, to cast her wrath upon the monsters.
It was exactly at this point the incredible happened: the mercenary Knight, not occupied by anything at all, obviously decided he wasn't involved and instead of protecting like he was supposed to, just glanced at some writings on the wall. Now the first time, this could have been an accident, but when it happened the third time, Alexanders inner rage had built up so far, he decided to let his little red twins have their revenge they cried for him to allow and called forth the sister of the Pixie that had lost so much of her hard earned lifeforce to the hits she took, weakened so much it would take many fights to get her back what she had lost.
While both fiery and full of rage, this one was the firstborn and the one to lust for human blood. So she cast her spells upon him, having her magic hit him the same moment Alexanders blade made its first cut, inflicting just a light wound, but it was enough to have the Knight be dazzled for a moment. A moment the red pixie used to show what made her special, casting a spell of fear upon him that sent him running right into a group of monsters, right into his doom by their hands.
„This is not fair! I wanted to kill him myself and now just because he is scared he runs away so they do it! I should have been his killer, the little demon to burn him to ashes!“, she cried, flying up and down angrily next to her sister, knowing that her master, despite having sacrificed them more than once for his own gain, was as angry as she was about these useless deaths.
„Silence, slave! The death he found will make his resurrection have a price, most probably cause him to lose some of his lifes very essence to the underworld, for the cursed ghosts that haunt this place have far more fatal ways to kill.“, he replied to her, laughing in a way that made his fellow temple raiders shiver, enjoying the death of this stupid Knight so much it payed for every loss he caused before.

[to be continued]

[windarrowz]

dafuq. anybody read that wall of text?

[prehistoricman]

dafuq. anybody read that wall of text?

I didn't but you just necroed it so I ended up scrolling past all of it just to read your lame comment.

[windarrowz]

dafuq. anybody read that wall of text?

I didn't but you just necroed it so I ended up scrolling past all of it just to read your lame comment.

You mad ?D:

[t4tat]

no you?

[borncadaver]

he always mad.

[emperor_707]

What the [provolone] ..
Dude get a life, why the hell would you waste time writing what ever that is about Rappelz ?

[disco_donne]

brovo alex.

nice to see you have a passion for the game still, submit it into player creation and see if they hold out to there promise of rewarding something to the "weekly" send ins.


i'll read the wall of text later though, i'm a bit of a critic lol