Author Topic: Ragnarok (Read 7603 times)

CaptainPenguin · « **on:** August 01, 2003, 02:25:03 PM »

Two voices in the darkness, shapes in the blackest night.

"I say to you know that Odin was once a weak god, indeed."
"How dare you! The All-Father is..."
"Silence. Know this: Gods can create but they cannot change. Mortals can change but they cannot create."
"What are you fending at, sorceror?"
"The gods are static, but mortals are ever-changing. Odin is possessed of mortal blood, as you are aware. The Vanir know this, the Aesir know this. Our 'All-Father' was once but a simple spirit of war, though he know sits vaingloriously upon the throne of Asgard, bloated with the adoration of all of Midgard."
"Sacrilige! You speak these poisoned words without fear for your safety?!"
A harsh chuckle cut the chill air.
"Fool. You do prattle on. Do as you will then, return to your precious Aesir and your clans. But when the Vanir and the Aesir and the Jotun battle, and all of the disparate and foreign gods are armed for war, and the ground is a sea of blood, remember that it was I, Yzald Valeth, that offered you escape, Rovald Karl!"

OOC: This story features a very altered version of Norse mythology so that it will fit into the setting I invisioned and all that.

Ria Hawk · « **Reply #1 on:** August 01, 2003, 08:16:19 PM »

(OOC: Can you give us a little more background? 'Cause otherwise I'll be jumping in the dark.)

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #2 on:** August 01, 2003, 09:56:29 PM »

The Pantheon:
Odin: The All-Father, head of the Pantheon, terrible spear-shaker, grey wanderer, blah-blah-blah.
Freya: Odin's wife, Goddess of Life, Death, and Fertility. Takes an active role in mortal's lives.
Tyr: God of War, One Handed God.
Heimdall: The Ever-Watchful Guardian of Asgard, Land of the Gods
Loki: Lord of Fire and Mischief. Cast out of Asgard, land of the gods, by the Aesir (Gods), and began wandering the world, searching for the Four Greatest Gifts to arm himself for Ragnarok, final battle of the gods.
There are many other Aesir that will not take an active role in this freeform.
-------------------------------
Aesir: A tribe of gods, worshipped by mortals.
Vanir: A second tribe of gods, the adversaries of the Aesir.
Giants (Jotun): The quasi-divine giant beings. Some are adversaries of the gods, while others are not. Fire and Frost giants.
There are four worlds on Aska Yggdrasil, the World Tree: Asgard, Land of the Gods, Midgard, Land of the Mortals, Niflheim, Land of the Dead, and Jotunheim, Land of the Giants.
Loki is half-Aesir and half-Jotun. He has been rejected by the Aesir and the Vanir because he is half-giant, and he seeks find the Four Greatest Gifts to give him power. He seeks to use power to create a world of equality where he will be accepted. In his wanderings, Loki has fathered three children with Angrboda, a giantess: Fenris, a giant demon wolf, Jormungandr, the serpent that encircles the four worlds and Yggdrasil, and Hel, Goddess of the Dead.
-----------------------------
The general theme of your characters should be Germanic or Nordic.

Ria Hawk · « **Reply #3 on:** August 02, 2003, 07:39:01 PM »

(OOC: I intend to join this game, as soon as I get a character.)

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #4 on:** August 02, 2003, 09:03:06 PM »

OOC: To those who didn't already know. I may not have made this clear. This happens in a fantasy version of Earth, in the days of the Roman decline.

Ria Hawk · « **Reply #5 on:** August 02, 2003, 09:33:15 PM »

As the other fellow stormed off, a shadow appeared out of the night at the sorceror's elbow. Calisto, or Liska as she was commonly called here, was a slight woman, and looked quite out of place in the land of the Norsemen. Her dark skin and hair told the tale of her origins far to the south. She spoke very quietly, but a little slowly, as she tried to find the proper words in the still-unfamiliar tongue. "I know very little of your gods, Master Valeth, but you are a brave man. In Rome, the magistrate would have had you executed, never mind the wrath of the gods."

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #6 on:** August 02, 2003, 09:40:46 PM »

Valeth turned nodded.
"I have seen your Rome. It is a haughty place, too concerned with it's own fruit to tend to the tangled garden of it's empire. Listen to me, young one: Do not folly. Cast off the shackles of the gods. The Aesir of my people, the Numina of yours, the Aegyptian's Neteru, all are decievers." he said, placing his hand on Calisto's arm.
"Now, child, Rovald Karl is even now reporting us to his clan leaders. I am a wanted man here, so we must hurry and find what I am seeking."
With that, the man spun on his heel, facing the gray light on the horizon. "The dawn is coming. We must hurry."

Ria Hawk · « **Reply #7 on:** August 03, 2003, 10:19:21 PM »

Calisto followed him. "It's not my Rome. I don't want it. And as for the gods... I don't believe in my own gods. Let alone anyone elses'." That was only partially true. She had believed in the gods once. But no longer. She put it out of her mind. She just kept following Valeth. "What exactly are you seeking?"

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #8 on:** August 04, 2003, 11:50:09 AM »

Valeth scratched his graying beard. "The Four Greatest Gifts. Enchanted treasures, made by ancient beings. There once were five, but I consumed one of them, the Thoughts of Saum." he said. He picked his way through the dark field, coming to a short rock outcropping. Pointing to the east, he said "We must travel east, to the land of the Poles and the Slavs, to find the second of the Greatest Gifts."

truecrimson · « **Reply #9 on:** August 05, 2003, 03:56:43 AM »

(OOC hope you don't mind me jumping in)
Meridius looked down the hill at the burning village, and shook hs head. He wrapped his red cloak tighter around his legionaires armor to ward off the cold. Even now his comrades were well into the sack, gathering valuables, and slaves. "Defenseless peasants!" he muttered under his breath, "Is this the greater glory of Rome?"
He thought about his ancestors who had served in Gaul, Britannia, and Africa. They had followed leaders. They had followed Ceasers! Now there was little left of that Rome, as politicians, sloth, and avarice ate out it's heart.

His helmet hit the ground first, followed by his belt, and gladius. A few minutes later his armor joined it. Meridius stood in only his clothes for the first time in ages, and looked down at the burning Slavic vilage. He would have to get that SPQR brand off his shoulder some how. Either side would kill him if they found it.

He turned north, and started walking.......................................... ....

strom · « **Reply #10 on:** August 05, 2003, 05:00:41 AM »

(occ: I have edited the character's name to reflected a new one.)

With the harsh cold winds of the north receding, the snow covered lands are transforming from frost to mud; making travel difficult.

Having left all, save a few, of his possessions behind, Octavian was finding it difficult to traverse the surrounding foothills on foot.

He seemed not to notice the rocks as he stumbled; the birds as they sang; nor the companions as they approached from behind.

No. After Five long years of honorable ('ha,' he chuckles at the thought) service, Octavian was noticing nothing. Not only what pervaded his surroundings, but what consumed his life- nothing.

Where was his worth? The glory he strived to attain became nothing; the revenge he sought for the blood of romans past became nothing; even the family he lost long ago- nothing! Was this to be the final sum of his life?

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #11 on:** August 05, 2003, 02:41:31 PM »

OOC: Which one of you is Meridius? Strom or this Truecrimson dude?

truecrimson · « **Reply #12 on:** August 05, 2003, 05:38:52 PM »

OOC I was but if you object I will withdraw. I don;t mind Stroms input as it seems very good.

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #13 on:** August 05, 2003, 05:45:48 PM »

OOC: Why would I object? By all means, go ahead.

Ria Hawk · « **Reply #14 on:** August 05, 2003, 08:21:38 PM »

(OOC: This is your friendly thread mod here. I would just like to point out that it is considered impolite to take control of someone else's character without their prior permission. End of lecture.)

Calisto nodded as she walked along with Valeth. "I have heard of these people. I even knew a Slav once." A sudden thought struck her. "I hope you can speak the language of these people, or that they can speak Greek. I have enough trouble with your own."

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #15 on:** August 05, 2003, 10:21:30 PM »

Valeth nodded. "I speak passable Slavic. But I do wonder if there will be anybody to speak it to. The depredations of the Romans have reduced them to a broken people. See there," he said, pointing down the snow-blasted slope into a small valley, a frozen pond ringed by trees sitting like a glassy eye in the snow. The ashen remains of a tiny thorp, the houses nothing but a blackened wreckage of sticks, rattling in the wind. "That was once the Slavic village of Wraslec, a sizable trading post among these people. It dwindled with the Slavs, until only that was left. But we must continue on, child. What we seek lies in the Slav kingdom of Warsaw, if such a place still stands." The mage's crimson cloak blew wildly in the wind, like a gout of blood splashing constantly. Using his gnarled staff, he started down the slope towards the corpse of Wraslec.

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #16 on:** August 06, 2003, 12:34:46 AM »

OOC: If anybody is confused about where we are, go get a globe, and find Poland. Now look at the border it shares with Germany. We are southeast of Berlin, on the border, though in the story's time period, borders are not so sharply defined.

Ria Hawk · « **Reply #17 on:** August 06, 2003, 10:26:49 PM »

Calisto looked at the shattered remains of the town. "Fortunately, I suppose, the south lands are too valuable to detroy. Greece and Egypt escaped, and parts of Gaul. Just the people are trapped." There was a trace of bitterness in her voice. Her father had been captured as a slave, and by that, the rest of her family. She had no love for the conquering Romans. "I am told that there are fearsome barbarian tribes in that region that strike fear into the legionaires. There are many stories about the fearsome Goths and Vandals..."

(OOC: Cap, do I have my geography right on that? Does it even matter?)

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #18 on:** August 06, 2003, 10:31:41 PM »

(OOC: Yeah, you got it right, but it doesn't matter so much.)

strom · « **Reply #19 on:** August 08, 2003, 03:06:02 AM »

A chill air breezes through the undergarments that Octavian continues to wear. Cooling down his temper; leaving him pondering. "d**n," he spoke up. "I shouldn't have left everything behind."
---
Two mounted soldiers dressed in roman armor approach in full stride.
---
Walking for the last half-hour has left Octavian with feelings of uselessness and failure. In fact, he had almost turned around twice, but just couldn't bare the thought of returning. His disillusionment broke waves of numbness within his consciousness. Leaving him broken of mind, body and spirit; broken like the songs of the birds. . in. . the. . .

Turning, Octavian with the honed reflexes of a seasoned warrior, leapt into the brush off to the side of the muddy road. landing face first, he is stricken with minor scrapes and a sudden desire to fight.

Missing their mark, the mounted romans turned around. "ha, ha. The first drink is on you, Diracci,"spoke one of the riders. "The rest of the keg shall come from your pay," yelled the second as he unsheathed his sword and, nudging his brown mare, came for a second charge.

Intending to storm down upon his foe like a wave upon the ocean, the soldiers eyes, gleefully, for a quick death.

Still on the ground, Octavian searched the ground and came up with an object.

Gripping his sword, the extension of his wrath, Diracci tensely awaits for the moment to strike.

Holding the object behind him, Octavian prepared.

Diracci raised his sword.

With a flash, Octavian flung his weapon.

Diracci's eyes became cross, as the rock met it's mark; striking his mouth. Pulling back on the reins, the horse raised up and gave a shrill cry. The Roman lost his hold and fell to the ground; he also dropped his sword.

Octavian immediately went for the sword. And while the Soldier spit out his teeth, he looked up at him. "lord, Meridius. I. . . "

Lunging the sword through and back again, Octavian turned to face the other.

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #20 on:** August 12, 2003, 01:41:34 AM »

(OOC: Du-ude....Controlling other people's characters...Unless it's a different Meridius)

"Come, Calisto." said Valeth, descending the hill towards the ruinous shell of the village.

strom · « **Reply #21 on:** August 12, 2003, 03:55:00 AM »

"My Liege," he cried and dropped from his horse; landing on one knee and bowing his head. "Please forgive me. You have been missing for many days now and we did not realize that it could be you. . .

'Who does he think I am?'

The young soldier looks up. "Where have you been? The third legion has been sending scouts out to find your whereabouts. Yet, many have lost hope. And there are those undecided as to whether you have been captured or plainly just fled your duties."

'Perhaps, he may be useful.' Easing his sword down, approaching the kneeling man, he spoke. "What did you figure young legionaire?"

Rising up from his prone position; grinning from ear to ear. "It's Jorge, Sir; the names Jorge Swien. And, let it be known, I told them that there is a good explaination for everything, and that when we find you, all shall be explained."

"All shall be explained, indeed," stated Octavian.

"I knew when you were found, your absence would be justified."

"What is the status and position of the legion?"

"They have remained near that Ghaul village, awaiting your return; dead or alive. Praise be the Gods, you are alive!"

"Where were you two headed?" The smile abruptly dimmed from Jorge's face. "We have a scouting unit three leagues from here and I- or, we were returning from our search."

"We shall bury him here." Pointing to the corpse once known as Diracci."Then you shall return to the legion."

"And what of you. I should not leave you. . ."The soldier began to interrupt.

"I shall meet up with the unit and return with them."

After burying the sullen body of Diracci, the two men mounted their horses.

"Ride well, Jorge. May the thunder of Thor protect you."

"Thank you, my liege, and the same to you."

After losing each other in the forested trail, Meridi. . . or Octavian turned east through the foilage. All the while wondering if he should have slain the young legionaire.

'May we never meet again." Octavian thught as he rode into the dense forest.

Ria Hawk · « **Reply #22 on:** August 12, 2003, 08:35:35 PM »

(OOC: Is Octavian a Roman legionnaire?)

Calisto followed Valeth into the valley. He was one of the few Northmen who took her seriously. Actually, he was one of the few people who took her seriously at all. Most people did not think women should be taught anything but the basic home skills. Fortunately her father had been too absent-minded to prevent her learning. She didn't really know what Valeth was looking for, or how it related to gods, but it didn't much matter. There was no family left in Greece, and she had sworn never to set foot in Rome again if she could help it. She had to be somewhere, and she might as well be with someone who didn't mind her.

CaptainPenguin · « **Reply #23 on:** August 12, 2003, 11:16:39 PM »

(OOC: Ah. I see strom's plan, now.)

strom · « **Reply #24 on:** August 14, 2003, 01:09:42 AM »

Riding slowly through the thick brush, Octavian searched for a suitable place to set camp. The sun had already begun falling beyond the mountains, but he desired to gain ground between him and his near brush with death.

Rain had once again chosen to fall. It drenched the mountainsides, as lightening cracked with a sparkling ferocity. Octavian's mount raised up twice in fear, but he held onto the reins and calmed the steed.

At last, there appeared a thick copse of pine surrounding a small cave. The trees are trimmed at the bottom to permit him to tie the horse to one. Local Gaul tribesmen obviously used this when scouting for legionnaires.

After eating some of the rations Diracci left behind on the horse, Octavian fell into a light sleep; with glimpses of his past stirring his consciousness. Twice, in the night, he awoke unsheathing his blade to find he is alone. And both times he drank water, perhaps to wash away the memories; Possibly attempting to cleanse his sins.