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The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 12:09 AM |
"There are so many of them..." Brother Riley's words trailed into silence. He had been here before; seen a similar seen to this. There were many more present when the Preceptor introduced the Righteous Swords to Midor. But the Righteous Swords were a holy order destined to replace the Order of Midoran paladins. They were blessed by the hand of Midoran himself.
Brother Riley knew, he had helped train the Righteous Swords. He influenced their menacing air and devout loyalty. Brother Riley, at the command of the Preceptor, had forged the Righteous Swords into a weapon that has slain all the enemies of Midor. Almost all, that is.
Small beads of sweat formed on Brother Riley's forehead. The contingent that stood before him were something completely different. No, thought Riley, not completely different. He could recognize the elements of his training regimen. The way the held themselves, the dangerous aura that emanated from them, even in silence. This was Riley's work, but he had not trained them.
"Do you like them," came a familiar voice from behind. Brother Riley barely controlled his urge to jump in surprise.
"What...what are they, Preceptor?"
"They are the next step." Vidus Khain, Preceptor of the Righteous Swords, stopped beside Brother Riley. The group before them, several hundred strong, Riley imagined, did not move, yet Riley could sense them coming to attention. "The next step." Vidus repeated. "Perhaps, the final step." A unfamiliar feeling crept into the edges of Brother Riley's mind. It was odd sensation, something alien, yet familiar. A half-remembered thing from his childhood that now caused bile to rise in his throat because now, he understood. They began to speak in a low, quiet, yet terribly familiar chant. "His word is our law."
Starting at the red-clad people, their bodies and faces hidden in hooded robes identical to the Preceptors, he knew what he felt. "His word is our law" they continued to chant, and Brother Riley wondered who they meant. And for the first time since he could remember, Brother Riley was afraid.
((What is Brother Riley so afraid of? Just what is this hooded cabal? What does Vidus mean by "the final step?" The answers to these questions, and more, will be giving on Thursday, June 15th at 10 PM CST.))
Location: Midor Temple District
Date and Time: June 15th at 10:00 PM CST
Everyone is welcome, just be careful, this is Midor, after all. Dissidents and lawbreakers will be punished to the fullest extent of the law
What came before: The Rising Tide
Midoran's will be done. |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 12:17 AM |
| *bump* |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 12:24 AM |
| (( *coughs* The Final Solution? )) |
Juylina Komthya | Portrait - Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 05:30 AM |
| (( Uh-oh...doesn't sound too good. )) |
Lol = Lack of linguistics |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 07:45 AM |
| ((eek sounds like some kind of star-warsish attack of the clones like scene)) |
-TimmiG
PC: Leanne "Lightning" Scarlett (Active)
PC: Violet Scarlett (Semi-Active)
PC: Crimson Scarlett (Semi-Active)
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 08:08 AM |
((So when is it, in GMT?
Because it looks to me like it's going to be really, really late here. :\ )) |
AKA Adept
Ben Bright: portrait, description (02/17/07) |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 08:10 AM |
Should be 4 AM GMT. Get up early, don't stay up.
-Barnas |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 08:20 AM |
((A few notes.
Don't be afraid to bring your character to this event, despite the fact it is in the heart of Midor. Unless your character is a criminal that is well known in Midor, you should be safe. Midorans like order and lawfullness. You are welcome to try and cause trouble, but if you try be prepared to face the consequences.
This is primarily an RP/storytelling event. Those who have attended one of Vidus's past public appearances know what to expect. Again, feel free to bring whomever you wish, but know that Midor has deep dungeons if you get caught doing anything illegal.
And most important of all, have fun! See you all tonight.))
-Mykal |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 08:57 AM |
((A few notes.
Don't be afraid to bring your character to this event, despite the fact it is in the heart of Midor. Unless your character is a criminal that is well known in Midor, you should be safe. Midorans like order and lawfullness. You are welcome to try and cause trouble, but if you try be prepared to face the consequences.
This is primarily an RP/storytelling event. Those who have attended one of Vidus's past public appearances know what to expect. Again, feel free to bring whomever you wish, but know that Midor has deep dungeons if you get caught doing anything illegal.
And most important of all, have fun! See you all tonight.))
-Mykal
((Err can I just bring another character lol?)) |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 09:05 AM |
((Err can I just bring another character lol?))
No, you can bring on Romulus. Vidus will even provide a room. It's a small patch of dirt about six feet below the surface. Well, after the crematers are finished, that is.)) |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 09:57 AM |
((A few notes.
Don't be afraid to bring your character to this event, despite the fact it is in the heart of Midor. Unless your character is a criminal that is well known in Midor, you should be safe. Midorans like order and lawfullness. You are welcome to try and cause trouble, but if you try be prepared to face the consequences.
This is primarily an RP/storytelling event. Those who have attended one of Vidus's past public appearances know what to expect. Again, feel free to bring whomever you wish, but know that Midor has deep dungeons if you get caught doing anything illegal.
And most important of all, have fun! See you all tonight.))
-Mykal
Wizards are still a big No-No in Midor? Though I suppose if I wear commoner clothing no one will know the difference....
DO any stores in midor sell those Midoran commoner robes? |
-TimmiG
PC: Leanne "Lightning" Scarlett (Active)
PC: Violet Scarlett (Semi-Active)
PC: Crimson Scarlett (Semi-Active)
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 10:01 AM |
You'll be in a crowd of 10-20 thousand people.
As long as you don't do anything to delibrately draw attention to yourself, or are otherwise notable, you'll be fine! Really. Honest.
-Barnas |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 01:41 PM |
((eek sounds like some kind of star-warsish attack of the clones like scene))
(( I was thinking more along the lines of WWII )) |
Juylina Komthya | Portrait - Priestess of Naruth |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 06:23 PM |
| ((Reminder, this will happen in about 4.5 hours)) |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 06:54 PM |
| Cursed timezone, when will there be an event in the afternoon or night of us GMT'ers... :( |
Ayntherian Tîwele - Elven Monk, earnest student of Ki and the Martial Arts
His Diary - Updated at 26/8/2006 with ENTRY VII |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 07:01 PM |
The Central District. A crowd. A speech.
This was it. If they were going to test anything... it had to be now. |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 08:06 PM |
Elith stepped forward and read the notice...
Humph...not on your life..not after last visit.
Ygsdrasil |
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 15 Jun 2006 10:52 PM |
A Future History
Joss sat heavily on the cushioned chair, putting his hands into his face. This meant, Aalya knew, that he was frustrated. His furtive glance to her, the kind he always believed went unnoticed, confirmed it. He wanted her to ask what was wrong. "Why?" he asked to the air. "Why do they do that?"
She sighed and relented, "What is wrong, Joss?" she asked in a kind voice. Even though she could see through his thin play for sympathy, she did not see a reason to be rude.
Joss looked up, "The students," he said, "All they want to do is talk about the Supremacists." Aalya nodded, but inwardly smiled. Joss was the professor of ancient history at the Academy. "There is not even any proof they existed! I am a scholar of fact, not mythology!"
Aalya spoke gently, "They are young, Joss. Of course they are interested in the Supremacist..."
He cut her off, "But why? Why should they be interested in a myth, a legend from countless thousand years ago?"
"Don't exaggerate, Joss," chided Aalya. "You should know better then anyone that ancient Midor existed..."
"If it existed," the old professor interrupted again. Aalya checked her temper and let him continue. "They busy themselves with stories of great evil and betrayal, of evil paladins and dark Supremacists. There is no regard for the truth! Why, I ask. Why?" He threw his arms dramatically in the air.
"Because they understand," came a strong, even voice from behind. Aalya jumped, but instantly recognized the voice. Joss looked scornfully towards the voice, peeved that his dramatic flair had been so rudely interrupted.
"And just what do they understand?" Sarcasm dripped from his words. "Tell us Erik, so we can bask in your wisdom."
Erik came along side Aalya, nodding his greeting. He was a tall and strongly built man with long, black hair that was showing the first signs of grey A days worth of stubble on his face belayed his fiercely intelligent blue eyes. "They understand that sometimes, myths are more important then facts."
"What," asked Joss incredulously, "You cannot be serious, Erik." But he knew that the aging Herald was serious, and that stoked his anger. Before he could continue, Erik spoke.
"They understand," he repeated himself. "The legend of the Supremacists is what is important, not if they actually existed or not. It is the lesson the story teaches that is important."
Joss half stood, his hands shaking with fury. He was not about to be preached to by some...some Heralds that had no right being an instructor in the first place. But he was only able to get the words "What less.." before Aalya gently pushed him back into his chair.
Erik continued as if nothing happened, "The lesson that evil never sleeps, and no matter how dark a situation can be, it can always get worse."
Joss snorted, "A fine lesson to teach," he muttered.
"But there is another lesson," Aalya said softly. "That no matter how dark it gets, there is always hope."
"These Supremacists," Joss moaned, "They are reported to have killed thousands. The stories of the encampments can not be true. The atrocities attributed to these so-called " Supremacists " are unspeakable...there has never been any archeological proof that any of this existed."
"It is a warning," Erik finished, "one I hope the students take to heart. That if they surrender to darkness, even for a moment, it can take hold. And when a person, or a people, fall to darkness, there is no bottom."
And to this, Joss had no response.
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Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 16 Jun 2006 04:03 AM |
| ((chilling!)) |
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."
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<@James42> Lawful good isn't in your vocabulary, it's on your menu.
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Re: The Turning of the Red Tide
Posted: 18 Jun 2006 03:47 AM |
Why Cedrych von Maistlin had felt compelled to go he wasn’t sure.
Why chance it? Why go back to Midor – to the heart of the city – especially when he had nearly been arrested there just weeks ago? You are an enemy of the city now. If they recognize you, they will kill you on sight!
But it’s my city, he thought. It’s my people. They are not Vidus. They are not the Swords. They are what Midor is. And I refuse to abandon them.
Maybe Lillian was right. Maybe Midor had gotten way off track centuries ago, that what had happened was inevitable once the city itself had been created. But it was his home. He was a Midoran, if no longer of Midoran, and he needed to be there.
Plus there would be thousands of people by the temple, waiting to hear what new tragedy Vidus was cooking up. He was certain he could get in fairly easily. It was, in fact, he thought something that Jerec would have done. Well, maybe.
But he had been right. It had been very easy. And he wasn’t the only one who had the same desire. He could have sworn he had seen several exiled Midorans in the crowd, but every time he caught sight of someone he thought was one, the faces would drift away into the mob of people.
He was thankful that Vidus’s presentation featured no deaths, no burnings, no lynchings. But it carried its own ill omens. That the Swords had done the work of defending the city, and now a new order was needed to carry the word of Midoran to all of Vives, according to Vidus, was an ominous sign indeed. Vidus had been too quiet for too long. The calm before the storm seemed to be coming to an end.
The mention of the Supremacists had caught his ear. Had he read that in one of the old tomes at the Villa? It seemed familiar, but he couldn’t remember any of the context. But what was this about beginning their work in the poor districts of Midor? The poor not living up to the standards set by Midoran?
It was a perplexing statement, and it seemed to Cedrych that the crowd reacted in much the same way he had. There was much less yelling and energy than in previous gatherings. They seemed…what? Nervous? Tired? Unsure?
He was going to take a closer look at the crowd when he caught site of the elf. Cedrych being here was stupid, but a calculated risk. The elf being here was near suicide. Cedrych quietly made his way over the figure, who at least had the good sense to being heavily cloaked and hooded. But it seemed that Vidus had noticed the elf, and casually, without looking at him, Cedrych had whispered that he might want to leave.
Then Vidus was introducing the first Supremacist, but Cedrych was too busy making sure the elf managed to sneak away. There was a new figure on stage, but he continued to scan the crowd, trying to get a sense of their demeanor. Something new, it seemed to him, was at play here, and if Vidus didn’t realize it, then so much the better. Of course, He might also be, he thought, dead wrong about the whole situation.
He finally turned his attention to the podium, and for a tiny moment, the world stopped. He gasped for breath, heaving so loudly that he was sure the whole mob could hear him.
Standing on the podium next to Vidus was the first Supremacist -- and his former mentor -- Father Gabriel Certos. |
The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for...
-- Ernest Hemingway |
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Homecoming
Posted: 18 Jun 2006 06:37 AM |
Do you know what it is to be a Midoran and to know that you'll never be able to come home?
That there will never be a place you can return to full of people who believe what you believe, with laws that make sense, where injustice does not go unpunished? What a world this is outside Midor—where the shadows are alive with spies, where no one has anything in common with anyone else and certainly no common faith, where Undead can demand sacrifices with impunity and where is the justice and how dare they, how dare they demand such a vile thing and where are the ones who will stand up and say "NO, go back to the hell from which you came and don't show your face here again"? You fell to Gorlath once to defend a fellow paladin and a heretic priest you had no respect for—and you'd do it again if you had to; even though all you got for it was a snide lecture from the priest, a not-so-subtle sniping of your belief in Midoran at the time.
Do you know what it is to be a patriot, but be banished to the lawless lands outside your city—and to know that even inside your city, the place you once knew no longer exists? To want to defend your territory and your people and your belief, and be forbidden to? To love the place where you were born and grew up, despite what it has become and despite what its people have become—but how do you explain that to they who have never known what you have known? How do you explain that to these outsiders who simply look, and sneer at the situation, and take the high moral ground, and ask you—why don't you hate them?
They don't understand. They can't possibly understand. It's not their city, it's not their people, it's not their faith that has been desecrated, perverted, turned upside-down and inside-out. They don't know Midor, don't know its sights and smells and sounds, its laws and history and customs, its successes and failures—they don't know it as intimately as you do.
It isn't theirs, it doesn't belong to these outsiders. As far as they're concerned, it's just something to sneer at, gossip about. News of the week. They don't really care and they don't know anything, they don't really know anything about Midor at all. They just like spitting on it.
It isn't theirs. But it's still yours.
Yours to defend, even if they hate you, even if you are an outlaw and a traitor and a heretic who the people of Midor would slaughter if they ever got their hands on you. It's not that you don't care about the rest of the world; it's just that it's too alien, it's not yours, it's not what you swore to guard and cherish, with your life if need be. The world's too big. The world isn't your world. They are your world, they are what you know.
Let the Aristi and the Alliance have the world; they are welcome to it. The captain goes down with the ship. If your world, all that matters in the world to you, is dying—you'll go down with it. Saving whatever of it you can as you fall together.
It's time to come home. Time to bring the war back to Midor, without Midor noticing. A war of ideals, a red team to oppose their white. The corruption has to be fought from within.
And the board is set up and the pieces are all in place now. The knights knighted, the bishops ordained, the pawns lined up and the rooks standing stalwart in their corners, and the queen and king side by side again.
And now the game begins. |
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Re: Homecoming
Posted: 19 Jun 2006 08:12 PM |
*A sermon by White Bishop Vidus Khain*
Look, my people, and see the world that stands against us! A dark gathering of misguided Men and lesser races once again seek to bring Midor down. See! Rocs attack our city, enchanted and controlled by our enemies! Look! See the martyrs in the Righteous Swords that have given their lives. Listen! The song of the faithful have not faltered. So many have been lost, but we will not fail.
The world must awaken. Midor is the morning dawn, brining light and warmth to the breadth of Vives. Each brutal attack on our city, each attempt to break our resolve only makes us stronger. Every dark act only strengthens our resolve. We are the light to the world! And we shall bath the world in Midoran’s justice and glory.
Umrial had come to Midor ten years ago looking for a better life. What she had found was a life in Madame Sentie’s bordello. She had worked there for almost eight years. Eight long, hard years. She had had her share of beatings at the hands of overzealous clients. Clients…she snorted, they were nothing more then that.
Finally, in desperation, she had went to the Supremacists, who were new to the docks area. Perhaps, she hoped, they could help get her back on her feet. She walked into the Supremacists make-shift offices, and was never seen again.
We are the backbone of Vives. The Justice of Midoran shall rally all Men of Vives to one banner.
Maddrick, known as Maddy by his kin in Brandibuck, was miserable. Life in Midor had been hard, especially since the Reds had taken out the Fire Knifes. The Halfling barely was able to steal enough to feed himself, and that was saying something.
Maddy was hungry, there was no denying it. The Swords were everywhere, and they saw everything. He had even considered getting arrested on purpose, to pick a knights pocket and be sent to prison, just to get a square meal. But the stories he had heard about the Justification gave him pause. No, there had to be another way. Then the Supremacists came to the docks. They offered a way out for Maddy, or at least a decent meal. They were priests, after all, right?
He ate the bread the Red priests gave him. He listened to them talk about the justice of Midoran, and how the city was being cleansed. He did not hear the splash as his body fell into the cold harbor, he was not conscious for that. One less troublemaker in Midor.
And for the Men who speak against Midor, I say this. You cannot stand against Midoran, or the arm of the White Bishop. You who claim alligence with the corrupt Aristi, or with the criminals of the land, will fall unless you change your ways. This I promise you; you will fall.
He was cold and hungry. These days, he was always cold and hungry. The rain beating down on his head did not help. There was no light in the dark alley, which suited him fine. Perhaps he would get to sleep. Perhaps he would die in his sleep. That would be a blessing.
Suddenly, he sensed someone moving around him. He froze, icy fear gripping his heart. He may have not cared if he died in his sleep, but he did not want to be beaten and robbed. Or worse, murdered. With effort, he opened his eyes. There was some bit of courage in the former soldier. He wanted to see the person who was about to attack him.
Only he did not see an attacker, but rather, a woman dressed in simple leather. Her dark hair was drenched in the rain, and she was in the process of setting a small package next to him. She noticed he was awake and said, with the defensive brusqueness of one not accustomed to having to actually deal with people face to face, "That should keep the Reds from targeting you."
He opened the package a little warily, peripherally aware that there were others moving in the murky darkness of the alley behind her. If this was some sort of trick... but within, there was only bread, clean water, a dry change of clothes, and fifty gold.
This had to be a dream. He stared at her, and she began to clean the infected wound on his leg. He could not speak, but simply watched her work in silence. When she had finished, he finally found his words. There were so many questions. Why was she helping him? What was he to do with the clothes and money? How much did he owe her? But only one question escaped his lips, “Who are you?” She paused, looking as if she did not want to answer, and he persisted, “Please.”
She pursed her lips and said a single word, “Amaranth.” And with that, she was gone.
The word shall spread, and Midor’s justice will find all the Men of Vives. It is meant to be. It is destiny.
*Thus ends the sermon of White Bishop Vidus Khain* |
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
-Henry David Thoreau
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And so it continues...
Posted: 23 Jun 2006 05:56 AM |
He'd been plying his trade here in Midor for a century and a half now. Frengel and Hignus were the big names when it came to smithing, and unsurprisingly, both of them were Dwarves.
Things had started to get worse ever since the Swords appeared. Not in any major sort of way; in fact, it had happened so gradually that he hadn't quite realised until the other week just how bad his situation was.
Hignus had been his rival ever since he'd arrived in this city. But now, the way things were going...
The Supremists had come in the other day. Smugly, slyly, they'd asked how his business was going. They must have known. Perhaps they'd even had something to do with it. Smugly, slyly, they'd hinted that his declining lack of income must be linked to a declining lack of faith. He wished now that he'd listened to Rador when the other Dwarf had told him to get out while he still could.
Hignus had offered to buy him out the other day and employ him at the Metalworks. He'd agonised over the decision, but really, he couldn't think of any other options. The Supremists had promised that they'd be back to check on him and his progress. He dreaded to think what they'd do if they found him in worse condition than the last time.
There'd been a time, not so long ago, when you could trust the authorities and priests.
No more.
He would miss his humble little smithy, even though he was just moving across the street. Hignus may be a rival, but he was a fellow Dwarf, and from what Frengel had seen of his facilities, they were equal to or better than what he had here. It was time to move on. And maybe, just maybe, if he could afford it—weeks or months down the track, maybe it would be time to move out of Midor completely. |
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