A man lies on the ground, or what he perceives as the ground, his focus spinning in all direction as his eyesight blurs. He is the last of Humanity, and with every breath he takes he sinks further and further into his mind.. until finally; the man closes his eyes, releasing one final huff as his chest collapses and he drifts off into nothing.
That is, until he opens his eyes again. He looks around, then down; to his horror he finds it was not the ground he 'had' been laying on.. it had been other bodies. A terrible plague swept across the entire globe, starting in China and spreading to Japan, then began to envelope the world in a short amount of time. There were no leads or scientific explanations.. now there are no people. What the man gazed upon was death and decay..
Hundreds of bodies all piled on-top of one another, maggots eating through eye sockets and other birds and the like picking at the putrid flesh. It was this image that seemed to burn within his mind, until he felt a small tug, and then with the force of a roller-coaster he began to ascend rapidly into the air, his speed increasing, faster, faster, and faster until all was white and then..
He stops, and an entirely new world grips hold of him. Enormous gold and silver statues thousands of feet tall glittering tall over a sprawling metropolis full of.. people, winged people! There were vendors passing out beautiful fruits and garments made of the purest silk, beautiful melodies rang out through the air, and the hustle and bustle of everyday life almost never seemed to have stopped here. The man is truly, truly taken aback by the beauty and grace of this place-.. and then he is startled once more, solid, beneath his feet; he plants them firmly, and almost as sudden as he does the world around him changes and before him stand two gigantic winged men wearing ivory crowns:
"Welcome young man, to the City of Prael," the first man bellows, his voice deep and booming, "The eternal resting place for all pure souls upon passing." The second man finishes. They remain silent a moment before looking the man over, then continue on one after the other:
"You were a good man in life, and now you are here,"
"You will never grow weak, and you will never die,"
"You will never fall down with any ailment or disease,"
"You are free to live on in eternity here within the City's walls,"
"Just know that not all is well, and there have been whispers,"
"A dark army grows to destroy the City and plant their seed,"
"Walk in the light, and may your soul remain pure."
After speaking a bright ray of light shines between the two of them, and they both reach out and draw the sunlight apart as if it were a drape. The man begins to walk, until he realises he's now flying-.. his silver wings beating gracefully behind him as he continues through the sunlight.
The man exits on the other side of the drape and instantly the world around him becomes blurry and morphs in-front of his eyes. As his vision settles, he realizes he is now in the center of Prael; an enormous fountain of gold spewing forth fresh, clean, water that hinted of honey as it splashed down into the base of the structure.
"Hey, hey you-.."
The man looks to his side, glancing over a tall man with blonde hair and bright green eyes; his skin is smooth and caramel colored and his hair is cut against his scalp. He has sharp features and an aura of authority about him. "Yes? Yes, sir?" The man replies hesitantly, looking the stranger over. "Are you new? You look like you are-.. I understand it can all be pretty shocking at first. Especially 'cause it just.. happens? Anyway, if you need anything, I'm Kale." Before the man has any time to react, a loud rumble can be heard from the eastern walls of the City.
As the noises continue to grow louder and closer, the people around the two men begin shuffling away quickly-.. a horn begins to blow, it's eerie, ghoulish, call traveling through the air. Kale turns to look at the other man, shaking his head, "It's Wyrghast's Legion.. they must be launching an attack on Prael. Come, come with me, NOW!" With that the man remains silent and takes to obedience, following Kale off towards a set of enormous marble buildings.
Upon entering the building, the man found out that the building was not confined to its appearance in size on the outside; as he opened the doorway he found himself staring hundreds of thousands of winged persons, clad in armor of gold, silver, and gems and wielding bows, swords, and axes of the same fashion. "This is Prael's jewel, its protection, the Prael Guard. Loyal soldiers dedicated to the continued existence of the City and our lives here. I don't think the Gatekeepers told you-.. eternal life, and everything else, will come to you now; though if you are slain, you cease to be and your soul returns and forms together with the clouds"
"Come," Kale says to the man hastily, "We must get you outfitted. You've just been conscripted-.. oh yes, I'd forgotten to tell you. You will face off against some of the most vile, ghastly, and blood-thirsty beings Wyrghast has created or summoned himself.. Twisted monstrosities with tusks made of diamond, spitting imps with saliva that melts away at the weapons, armor, and flesh. Demons, Death-hounds.." He began trailing off after speaking, looking upon the man who now had a terrified expression stuck upon his face.
The man equipped his gear as quickly as possible and sheathed his own, hardy, blade which looked to be made of light itself; sporting a gold hilt with a bright-green emerald in the shape of a sun on the handle. Falling into formation alongside Kale, the man again took in his surroundings. He now stood side-by-side, toe-to-toe with hundreds of thousands of other souls just like him, fighting for their afterlives and peace amongst those within the City. Then he spotted a figure approach the head of them all along with one other man.
The first man wore a crown of gold which had seven points atop it, each holding a square cut diamond. He was a tall, muscular man with dark skin, brown eyes, and shoulder-length raven black hair. Around his neck was a necklace bearing a sun carved out of ivory, his coat a brilliant red with golden platemail resting beneath it and a thin, lengthy, sword sheathed at his side. He seemed to glow, and also emit an aura of goodness and hope.
The second was very tall, with bright blonde hair which hung past his shoulders and had a pair of sharp, blue, eyes. His features were stony and hard, and his face was emotionless. He wore an extravagant silver and gold adorned platemail and on his back rested an enormous warhammer which glowed a light shade of blue.
The first man raised one hand and began to speak,
"Wyrghast's Legion is approaching. They are not here yet, but you can bet they will be relentless and ruthless. We have repeled these demonic forces many times in the past and here stand our walls, even still. Everyone in the Guard was specifically chosen. You are all now, and will always be from this day forth, blessed with the powers of Prael; blessed by myself, King Michael, the Sun-bringer."
The second man raises a fist into the air and begins to yell to the height of his lungs,
"For life! For Prael! For King Michael the Sun-bringer! WE WILL FIGHT, AND WE WILL TRIUMPH!"
"HAOOH HAOOH HAOOH!"
"HAOOH HAOOH HAOOH!"
"HAOOH HAOOH HAOOH!"
The soldiers erupt in a roar and the man takes a deep breath. "What have I gotten myself into, here?" He thinks.
Roars, shrieks, and screams can be heard throughout the dark and ghastly halls that hold the seat of Emperor Wyrghast. The scene is dark and gloomy, a single enormous castle stands in the center of an enormous sea of magma and molten lava, its entrance a single pull-bridge which rises hundreds of feet into the air. It is a place deep, deep, down in the depths of the void where the souls of the wicked go upon passing.
Demons, ghouls, and other vile manner of beings roam the Underworld, and they are all united under the banner of Wyrghast. Wyrghast only wishes to take over or destroy Prael, and eradicate every pure soul left. He is the epitome of evil, and often takes the form of an enormous fire-breathing dragon or vile and deadly black magic wielding liches.
Wyrghast has remained silent until recent, sending small war-parties to poke and prod at Prael's walls in an attempt to break in, as well as other inconveniences. It is rumored his army has grown to a great size, sporting the meanest, darkest, and most vile beings the Underworld has to offer.
Wyrghast has chosen to march on Prael...
THE STORY IS STILL A WIP, MORE TO BE ADDED!
I am looking for about --: 5 :-- other players to participate. TWO winged men, and THREE demons (demon, lich, etc.)
I'll keep editing it, anyway, what do you all think so far?
(Subject to change.)
Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/zJyxyZWKrDA/viewtopic.php
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