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Graffiti on the temple of Midoran!!!
Posted: 09 Feb 2006 03:40 AM |
*the following slogans were placed on the temple of Midoran overnight. They are painted on its rear and side wall, the paint used was enchanted so as to make it more difficult to remove, and cause it to glow in the dark, ensuring it was seen by as many people as possible before being removed. The writing is crude and very hurried, though written in large and prominent lettering, and the final slogan was left unfinished, the "artist" seemingly disturbed from his work and forced to flee.*
VIDUS SUX
MIDORAN IZ A LOZER
RS EAT CHILDRUN
FK R BAK!
MIDORAN SUX NARUFS TI.... |
'The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.' - Richard Bach, Illusions. |
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Re: Graffiti on the temple of Midoran!!!
Posted: 09 Feb 2006 03:41 AM |
| *bump onto main forums* |
'The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.' - Richard Bach, Illusions. |
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Re: Graffiti on the temple of Midoran!!!
Posted: 09 Feb 2006 07:09 AM |
| ((Edit: added colour and style to the graffiti. Now isn't that a fine work of art!)) |
The subculture of my dreams
Is waiting for me to fall asleep.
I know you're scared—you should be.
I know you're scared. |
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Re: Graffiti on the temple of Midoran!!!
Posted: 09 Feb 2006 07:38 AM |
*move along, nothing to see here*
Any one who asks will find out that one of the more eager priests was experimenting in a new red paint for duing a mural on the side of the temple as a testament to Midoran's glory. Within a couple of hours the colors are gone, mostly.
In unrelated news, another of the unfaithful was found guilty of heresy and vandalism and was righteously justified for his unrepentent manner and his crimes.
Midoran's will be done. |
Purpose in life: finding better ways of allowing players to kill themselves. Repeatedly.
--
"...Cause he mixes it with love
And makes the world taste good."
--
<@James42> Lawful good isn't in your vocabulary, it's on your menu.
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Re: Graffiti on the temple of Midoran!!!
Posted: 10 Feb 2006 03:45 AM |
*the following is IC background to events preceding, and immediately after, the graffiti on the temple wall incident. The full story can only be discovered by those with a LOT of knowledge of the underbelly of Vives.*
Jonny awoke. Stretched. Yawned. And then a slow smile spread across his face. Today was to be the day. Finally, after months of tedium, he was to become a member of the Fire Knives. He had begun to hold significant doubts as to whether it would ever happen. But his goal was finally within sight. And so he allowed himself the luxury of a little time to rest, and to think back on the path that had brought him to Midor.
A loyal member of the Black Hand, Jonny was still young and finding his way in that organisation. He had earnt the nickname "Chameleon", not only for his ability to blend into the background, but also for the uncanny knack he had of defusing arguments and befriending people of vastly varying stations in life. He had always found his...job easier when people around him trusted him, saw him as a friend and believed in him.
But he was still a nobody in the Hand. A nobody with potential maybe, but a nobody nonetheless. So when Jessup had summoned him he had been bewildered. Awed at the honour this entailed, but terrified he had mis-stepped. Surely the gold he had pilfered from another member of the Hand could not have been traced back to him. He had been so careful...
But no. Rather he had been chosen precisely because he was a nobody. And one with a useful talent for blending in. In one stroke he was being given the opportunity to rise high in the Hand, to accomplish in months what might otherwise take years. And all he had to do was join the knives, a bunch of no-hope misfits with pretensions of grandeur. So simple.
And so it was with a light heart, and a spring in his step, that he had embarked for Midor. Within days of taking residence at a cheap tavern in the docks, and plying his trade as a pickpocket and con artist, he was contacted. First with warnings that he was on their turf. He smirked to himself as he remembered the warning. In Port, such warnings usually entailed a beating at the very least. Not just a whisper from a dark alley, and nothing more. Nonetheless it was first contact. And more soon followed, as he made clear he didnt wish to offend anyone, and would welcome the opportunity to be a part of something "grander".
Initial meetings were fruitful. With promises of sanctuary and membership of a group that cared for each other, and shared the same goals. But his frustration had grown as the early promise faded, information became elusive and he was set task after task, each seemingly more meaningless than the last. Always his questions about anything of use were met with blank expressions, and a promise that in time he would know everything he needed to know. But first, first he must prove himself. Whatever that might mean. How exactly did recovering the lost doll of a child from the sewers beneath the city prove anything!? Or stealing fruit from a noblemans house and taking it to the home of some worthless, sickly old man in the docks. But he did all he was asked with a smile, and he waited. Beginning to lose hope he would ever find the information he needed to truly gain favour with the Hand.
He had begun to grow weary of the charade. Convinced that he might as well return to Port. Give up and admit defeat. He knew nothing of the leaders of the Knives. He knew little of where their new home was. He knew nothing of any worth. But then the call came. His patience had been rewarded, he was to be set a final task, a task from which there would be no turning back. Complete it, and he would be whisked away to safety. From a city full of enraged Midorans. His smirk turned to outright laughter as he considered the job that awaited him, it was a bold move by the knives, one even Jessup would approve of. Hardly a surprise none of their own members had the courage to do it themselves, but he was made of sterner stuff.
Sure, he had been cautious at first. But they had reassured him. Midoran was focussed on Paws. It was the perfect time. It wasnt like he was entering the temple, or harming a member of the faith. He would have time. And the moment he was discovered he was to flee. To a pre-arranged meeting place from where he would be taken to safety. Sure there was some risk, but what was life without excitement.
And so, in the darkest hours of the night he stood by the huge sprawling temple of Midoran. And he began to paint. A broad grin on his face as he did his work, the luminous paint splashed on the walls with haste. He had nearly finished his last slogan when the alarm went up, a passing citizen crying out... "Heresy, Sacrilege!!!"
And he was off. The paint discarded. The wind in his hair as he fled for the sewer grate. Descended at speed, the sounds of pursuit coming from behind, but at a distance. Plenty of time to reach his destination and be gone. He had done it!
And so he ran. He had traced the route in his mind so often he knew he could do it blindfold. And with a relieved laugh he burst through the final door, expecting to see the impressed gaze of his "fellow knives". Expecting applause and praise, and expecting to finally have achieved his true mission.
What he had not expected was an empty room. A table. And a letter upon the table. His heart in his mouth, he took the letter, hoping it would contain directions...instructions. But already beginning to suspect he had underestimated his true foes. And sure enough, as his eyes slowly made out the content of the letter, he slumped, resignation clear on his face...
"We hope the Black Hand take care of their own..."
The sound of approaching, heavily armoured feet represented the final punctuation to his tale. |
'The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.' - Richard Bach, Illusions. |
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