This Cannot Be The End


The deck of the enemy ship smelled intelligent decision was of course, to run away. The enemies formed a defensive line spanning far beyond our ability maneuver, in either direction. Even from several leagues away one could feel the crisp biting crackle of magic in the air as surely as I smelled the pungent sea salt stinging my nose. To say our chance for advancement was bleak, was an understatement.

We had only one true choice which we accepted with a humble sort of valor. The arcane engines which drove our vessel whirred, the waves grew flustered and in absolutely no time we were moving at viciously deadly speeds. We were moving, of course, directly at our opposition.

Very soon, the smell of ocean air and rhythmic sound of the lapping seas was replaced with the roar of mage-borne fire congealed into transient and impossible balls, crashing into our ship like angry fists. Needless to say, we were in trouble. And yet I've come to expect that trouble much like air to the humanoid form, is something we live on if not live for. After all, what is a Phoenix if it does not burn and rise from the ashes a victorious and terrible beast?

And as is made evident by my very ability to pen this, we did. The newest of our members shook and hid but, our vessel broke through the burning hot rain of enemy fire and out off into the horizon toward Ochalea.

We did not speak the local tongue and what was more, our blend of races was an aberrant thing in this place. We had to hide, with hood and cloak, and silence and care. We traveled, in speaker for the Light outed us in the center of a small village. I will not speak long on the matter suffice to say that he is with Diamond now, and we pressed on.

I have yet to see a land like this, they serve a dragon. And yet not as I do. They serve a dragon within them all, a fire, a passion, a drive to grow and conquer that is unseen in the known world. There is a sense of absolutism in this land. Of rules carved inexorably in the sand with a punishment of blood to be spilled for crossing them. I would feel at home within these lawful parameters, if mayhaps I knew them. And yet from their way of speaking to their customs this land is entirely foreign to me. And it would seem, that my very existence is against its ways. And so, as both a violator of law and a creature structured by it, I continued.

Until, of course, we reached the castle walls. Kyobei, was allowed in. I am not surprised. There is a way about that man that lends one all to easily to growing comfortable with the idea that the rules of reality will acquiesce to him and his will. Until, of course, they suddenly do not. Acting as a shield in such a group is tantamount to guarding a castle wall that is entirely impregnable, until holes appear randomly in the wall at random places and intervals without warning. When our attempt to breach the walls of Ochalea's inner fortress led to an hours long chase through the inner city, my previous analogy proved most true. My path in this, is difficult to decipher.

However much to my surprise, sitting in what was a glorified prison cell of a waiting room I was shocked to see, not Diamond, but another of our order guide my cause. I felt that familiar unsettling tug at the base of my spine, like something cold tugging at the core of my being. And then Naivara, obliterated a group of unsuspecting guards in a wave of jagged ice. It may not have been the most honorable of choices, and yet I could not disagree with it. Kyobei, a man I swore to obey, ordered us to escape. But as a whole we denied the order. Does the Phoenix rise, even from the ashes of its own structural limitations? The fight was upon us, my shield was raised, my sword was eager.

And then, we failed. Kyobei was their captive. Our advancement was his defeat. We had no choice but to surrender. No blood. No glory. No valor. We just had to stop. It fills me with an acrid disgust. I cannot accept this. The Watch cannot fall here.

This cannot be the end.
Session: A Fork in the Road 06/21/2011 - Tuesday, Jun 21 2011 from 12:00 PM to 5:00 PM
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4 comments
Epic!

4 Comments

i leave you guys alone for just a few days and this is what happens....i am disapoint

Upon the next night Maximos sleeps. In his dreams, he sees the familiar face of Zanithar. However something about him seems different. As if this body is just a hallowed out shell of Zanithar. His presence also seems different, As if he had suddenly had the wisdom of a thousand years. He shows no emotion at first. Wen he speaks it is in a darker voice filled with pure hate. "Do not fear my child." *suddenly showing an evil grin* "Your death are meaningless to the watch. You are all but leaves on a branch to the watch. however if it means something to you, I will send someone to clean up your little mess, again." He then shacks his head in such an extreme speed that it looked entire head looked like a blur. With a confused look upon his face and His presence now feeling like the Zanithar he once knew. He says, "I am sorry, I don't know what came over me. Must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed." He seems to have a strange forum of kindness in his voice now. "I do hope you know I would never leave you behind. I can see what has happened before it has happened. I know thing I should not and I know of this. do not fear my friends, I will send someone to save you." The vision then fades away into darkness.
Upon the following morning, Maximos wakes. Shaken.

He remembers a scattered and terrible dream involving a man who said about how, his "Death are meaningless to the watch." You know, as opposed to how his death is meaningless to the watch. He remembers particularly how the man shacks his head. This, he remembers most clear because in his dream the concept of shacking ones head was so clear, and now no longer lucid it makes no sense at all.

But none of that, is what shakes him. Instead, it is the memory of that man in his dream. The one with the day glow tattoos and the fast but generally useless ship. When the man spoke in his dream now there was an entire forum of kindness in his voice. To think, that many people in one voice. Impossible! Maximos runs his hand over his white scaled chin. What was that man's name again? Was it Zane or Jane? Maybe even Jace or something like that. Whatever it is, the idea that he would never leave, as he professed in the dream, combined with the realization that he for some reason had a dream about this man...well it is enough to shake the mighty dragonborne indeed.

In the final moments of his waking period, before Maximos stands to face the day, he remembers Janisars last words to him. He will send someone. To save them. To which Maximos simply shakes his head, rubs the sleep from his eyes and says, "We're doomed."

And then continues on about another day in the life of the dragonborn.

OOC: Thank you Chris for once again making fun of my spelling. Personally I'd like to see things from your point of view but I can't seem to get my head that far up my ass. I would also like to let you know that you are the reason mankind was created with a middle finger.