GodOfGales
Legacy Supporter 4
- Joined
- Feb 21, 2015
"There is no breath amongst the heat. There is no coolness reflecting from the shiny surface of the blackened stone. Light is a scarce substance only naturally emitted from demonic entities. So why do we throw ourselves into such unforgiving domains?"
Questioning the Zo
A Tale by GodOfGales
The vastness of endless rolling hills is all that seemed to occupy the land. Firewood was nearly impossible to locate, and that which was discovered found itself quickly fought over by various forces. Some like to say it is the fatally cold winds of the northern ice cap that brings down man. Others say the sweltering heat of the deserts an make mortality crumble. Yet, each contradicts themselves, as empires have been forged in such domains. No empire can live where not even a tree can stand. Nobody has the will to forge power in such an unfruitful region.
My tribe, perhaps among the largest in the plains, only consists of few. It can only supply for those who contribute. Others can not survive. I myself earned the merit of which I own through the ability gifted unto me by the overbeings known as the Zo. I could ride the winds. I could wield a spear with such prowess. I was the Protector of my tribe. I was the High Dragoon. Yet, I held little power compared to the largest tribe, the Aees. Their Protector consisted of a High Illusionist, who is considered the most powerful being across the plains as a whole.
While my gift allows for much more than the simple leather and iron armor combination I optimize as armor, it is all my tribe, the Olig, can afford. Even so, people lost their lives in combat for the leather. Such species of Cow and Hare are exceedingly rare, and combat usually breaks loose between tribes who find herds and wish the resources for themselves.
Of course, as the Protector, when this armor was bestowed unto me I was tasked with reducing the amount of death. The Olig had not been so blessed with a Hero for a Protector in decades. The last was a Priest, otherwise referred to as a Cleric, which brought the tribe to cultural stability. Whilst the current generation did not remember him, it still was a hard reputation to follow.
The armor had completely finished the iron supply. This event marked a historic ritual, the "Iron Swing". The tribal miners all entered a circle, and the other tribe members went forth to do a dance around them. The cheerful jig consisted of every third dancer to swing into the middle, and then rejoin the circle. The next day would not be so grand.
As Protector, the people elected me to personally escort the miners through the caverns. Horrible beasts occupied them, and the people decided to risk their lives so that the miners could be protected through me. I protested such. As a Dragoon, my duty was not below the earth. I was meant to ride the winds, to jump high into the clouds. Not to be encompassed by darkness and stone.
Of course, my pleas were of no avail. I was lowered down with the miners, and as soon as we were submerged, the tune of our souls slowed down. "Humans are not welcome here," one particularly older miner commented. He had been one of the few to have went into the mines before. Besides him and two others, nobody knew what exactly they were embarking into.
The blackness seemed to be cold. We held torches, but I can not confess it helped much. We heard some monsters down various forks in the cave, and we indeed went the other direction. When we did find veins of iron, the process was decently fast in comparison to how slow I imagined extraction. I wondered how we would navigate our way back, as we had descended so far below the earth I knew no manner of our return.
When I asked this, it broke the dead silence of our depressed hymn. The one miner who had spoken on our way down told me, "we only hope." This made everyone uneasy, from what I could see. Only the dim light illuminated from the torches were there to give me a sense of who I was with.
It was in the dark moment I caught a glimpse of eyes. "Down!" I shouted to the group. Many fell to their knees, including me. The few who didn't stumbled around confused. It was then I caught a glimpse of one enter the torchlight of a still standing man. It's purple eyes blinked, and then I noticed it's deformed black body open its jaw at horrifying rate. Soon enough, the miner was gone. Others screamed, and they were gone, too. I jumped into action, only to slam my head on the cavern roof. The creature of chaos sprinted, no, teleported to me. I quickly impaled it, altering it's speed. I began to fight it, and with it slowed I quickly put an end to the madness.
I assembled the surviving miners to see who survived the experience. The older three did, and two new miners. I had only thought a few perished, but these numbers reflected a death toll of thirteen. "It was to be expected," another older miner remarked. "No Dragoon can defend in the caves," he continued. The younger miners were frozen in fear. The other two older miners grunted in agreement.
I stuttered a reply. "I did not intend.."
The Miners waved away my attempt at an apology. "Our tribe is already small enough. We could all die down here, including you." He said this whilst rubbing his greasy finger into my chestplate. "Not only could you have been more demanding for a true warrior to come into the mines, our while tribe is left defenseless in your domain."
My helmet prevented him from seeing into my eyes, but I saw into his. They did not show a many of anger. He was a man of regret.
The comment I was about to relay could not be spoken, as an arrow flew past our heads. "Skeletons," I screamed. "Down!" I dashed over to them, cleaving five at once with my spear. I killed three with swift movements, but the other two had targeted onto the miners. By the time I killed them, I noticed something come over me. Something nobody could mimic.
I was alone.
The miners had all been killed. Not only had I failed, I was alone outside my domain, with damaged armor, and no knowledge of how to return. I took up the iron backpack and a torch, and attempted to find my way back.
Eventually, my torch burnt out. It was entirely dark. I caught a glimpse of light through one fork, and misinterpreting it for daylight sprinted to it. It was lava. I sat on a nearby obsidian and took in the warmth and sight.
It was then a voice broke to otherwise silence.
Questioning the Zo
A Tale by GodOfGales
The vastness of endless rolling hills is all that seemed to occupy the land. Firewood was nearly impossible to locate, and that which was discovered found itself quickly fought over by various forces. Some like to say it is the fatally cold winds of the northern ice cap that brings down man. Others say the sweltering heat of the deserts an make mortality crumble. Yet, each contradicts themselves, as empires have been forged in such domains. No empire can live where not even a tree can stand. Nobody has the will to forge power in such an unfruitful region.
My tribe, perhaps among the largest in the plains, only consists of few. It can only supply for those who contribute. Others can not survive. I myself earned the merit of which I own through the ability gifted unto me by the overbeings known as the Zo. I could ride the winds. I could wield a spear with such prowess. I was the Protector of my tribe. I was the High Dragoon. Yet, I held little power compared to the largest tribe, the Aees. Their Protector consisted of a High Illusionist, who is considered the most powerful being across the plains as a whole.
While my gift allows for much more than the simple leather and iron armor combination I optimize as armor, it is all my tribe, the Olig, can afford. Even so, people lost their lives in combat for the leather. Such species of Cow and Hare are exceedingly rare, and combat usually breaks loose between tribes who find herds and wish the resources for themselves.
Of course, as the Protector, when this armor was bestowed unto me I was tasked with reducing the amount of death. The Olig had not been so blessed with a Hero for a Protector in decades. The last was a Priest, otherwise referred to as a Cleric, which brought the tribe to cultural stability. Whilst the current generation did not remember him, it still was a hard reputation to follow.
The armor had completely finished the iron supply. This event marked a historic ritual, the "Iron Swing". The tribal miners all entered a circle, and the other tribe members went forth to do a dance around them. The cheerful jig consisted of every third dancer to swing into the middle, and then rejoin the circle. The next day would not be so grand.
As Protector, the people elected me to personally escort the miners through the caverns. Horrible beasts occupied them, and the people decided to risk their lives so that the miners could be protected through me. I protested such. As a Dragoon, my duty was not below the earth. I was meant to ride the winds, to jump high into the clouds. Not to be encompassed by darkness and stone.
Of course, my pleas were of no avail. I was lowered down with the miners, and as soon as we were submerged, the tune of our souls slowed down. "Humans are not welcome here," one particularly older miner commented. He had been one of the few to have went into the mines before. Besides him and two others, nobody knew what exactly they were embarking into.
The blackness seemed to be cold. We held torches, but I can not confess it helped much. We heard some monsters down various forks in the cave, and we indeed went the other direction. When we did find veins of iron, the process was decently fast in comparison to how slow I imagined extraction. I wondered how we would navigate our way back, as we had descended so far below the earth I knew no manner of our return.
When I asked this, it broke the dead silence of our depressed hymn. The one miner who had spoken on our way down told me, "we only hope." This made everyone uneasy, from what I could see. Only the dim light illuminated from the torches were there to give me a sense of who I was with.
It was in the dark moment I caught a glimpse of eyes. "Down!" I shouted to the group. Many fell to their knees, including me. The few who didn't stumbled around confused. It was then I caught a glimpse of one enter the torchlight of a still standing man. It's purple eyes blinked, and then I noticed it's deformed black body open its jaw at horrifying rate. Soon enough, the miner was gone. Others screamed, and they were gone, too. I jumped into action, only to slam my head on the cavern roof. The creature of chaos sprinted, no, teleported to me. I quickly impaled it, altering it's speed. I began to fight it, and with it slowed I quickly put an end to the madness.
I assembled the surviving miners to see who survived the experience. The older three did, and two new miners. I had only thought a few perished, but these numbers reflected a death toll of thirteen. "It was to be expected," another older miner remarked. "No Dragoon can defend in the caves," he continued. The younger miners were frozen in fear. The other two older miners grunted in agreement.
I stuttered a reply. "I did not intend.."
The Miners waved away my attempt at an apology. "Our tribe is already small enough. We could all die down here, including you." He said this whilst rubbing his greasy finger into my chestplate. "Not only could you have been more demanding for a true warrior to come into the mines, our while tribe is left defenseless in your domain."
My helmet prevented him from seeing into my eyes, but I saw into his. They did not show a many of anger. He was a man of regret.
The comment I was about to relay could not be spoken, as an arrow flew past our heads. "Skeletons," I screamed. "Down!" I dashed over to them, cleaving five at once with my spear. I killed three with swift movements, but the other two had targeted onto the miners. By the time I killed them, I noticed something come over me. Something nobody could mimic.
I was alone.
The miners had all been killed. Not only had I failed, I was alone outside my domain, with damaged armor, and no knowledge of how to return. I took up the iron backpack and a torch, and attempted to find my way back.
Eventually, my torch burnt out. It was entirely dark. I caught a glimpse of light through one fork, and misinterpreting it for daylight sprinted to it. It was lava. I sat on a nearby obsidian and took in the warmth and sight.
It was then a voice broke to otherwise silence.
"There is no breath amongst the heat. There is no coolness reflecting from the shiny surface of the blackened stone. Light is a scarce substance only naturally emitted from demonic entities. So why do we throw ourselves into such unforgiving domains?"
I was taken back by the surprising calmness of the voice. I called out to it. "Who are you?"
It chuckled. "I will reply with my persona after you do such with my question."
"I haven't an idea. Perhaps we do it for perseverance?"
"Your answer is unique. I am a Zo."
I gasped. A Zo? Why was I in contact with a God!?
"Why have you sent beasts of the nether to kill the people of who I was to protect," was the question spawned from my rage.
"I only wish to start you on your quest. A quest of sorrow, which will end in the Hall of Heroes."
It was then I found the winds around me encompass my body, and before I knew it I was in the midst of my village. Or, the ruins of it.
I broke into tears. I questioned the Zo.
I was taken back by the surprising calmness of the voice. I called out to it. "Who are you?"
It chuckled. "I will reply with my persona after you do such with my question."
"I haven't an idea. Perhaps we do it for perseverance?"
"Your answer is unique. I am a Zo."
I gasped. A Zo? Why was I in contact with a God!?
"Why have you sent beasts of the nether to kill the people of who I was to protect," was the question spawned from my rage.
"I only wish to start you on your quest. A quest of sorrow, which will end in the Hall of Heroes."
It was then I found the winds around me encompass my body, and before I knew it I was in the midst of my village. Or, the ruins of it.
I broke into tears. I questioned the Zo.
