I guess I’m first? I’m posting early because I’m going to be very busy soon and I may not have another chance later.

So, without further ado:

Let the curtains rise.


[hider=Ash and Tyrants]
It rained ash. 

No sun could be seen, yet there was light. An angry red twilight blanketed the land. A figure wrapped in a ragged, dark cloak approached the ruins of a large destroyed building. The building had burned to the ground not long ago, its ruins still smoldered. The outer walls stood still, and much of the roof remained. However, the inside was hollow. Empty windows stared out like a grinning skull.

Ash and debris crunched under the heavy foot of the figure as it picked its way deeper within the burned out shell. The light receded as he drew deeper within the complex. The only illumination inside was the occasional beam of red light that beamed through a hole in the roof or through a shattered window.

In no hurry, the figure reached a larger room. This one was lit by the sullen light that streamed through the torn open roof. What may have once been a glass dome was now a broken eggshell, open to sky. Ash drifted down lazily, it lay on the floor nearly a meter deep. The figure stifled a coughing fit as he methodically began to dig through the ash. Parts of the uncovered floor were uneven, cracked or even missing, making footing treacherous. unnatural formations rose above the ash.

The search took time. The ashfall had picked up, hampering it’s progress. But eventually, a cleared section of floor yielded a perfectly square outline in ash, two handspans wide. With the first signs of excitement, the figure scooped and brushed ash aside until the whole square was revealed. Unlike the stone around it, the square was clean, smooth, and undamaged. The ash had not stuck to it and the devastation has not touched it.

The figure bent down, feeling with its dirty ash-stained fingers until it found a ash-filled divot in the cool metal. With its nails, it dug more ash out of the hole.

Hands shaking, it drew a geometric, multisided stone from a pocket, and pushed it into the slot. Runes carved into the stone lit with a silver light. The light spread into the metal, revealing more runes. With an audible [i]click[/i], the square shifted slightly. The figure hesitated, then, holding its breath, carefully tapped the runes in a specific order. 

A tense moment passed. Then a secondary, more muffled [i]click[/i] sounded. A relieved breath turned into another coughing fit. The door revealed a compartment. Inside the compartment was an ash-stained book, a safe, and other boxes.

The figure withdrew the book. It backed out of the ashfall, movements jerky and tense. In the least ash-covered corner of the room, under an intact shard of the glass dome, the figure opened the book and began to read.

[i]I don’t have much time. Holder of this record: what follows is a true account. True insofar as my actions and thoughts. I make no claim of of transient truth. 

Reader, I make but one request. If what you hold is the original: Do not destroy it! Mock it as you wish, declare it false, disbelieve it, hold it as an enduring example of a mad tyrant for all time, but do not destroy it! Let it exist so that future generations, if they exist, should know this:

I, Kaiser Wahr D’mmerung, Hero, Savior, Villain, Tyrant, destroyed the world.

But I will also save it.

The circumstances must be explained to understand the above statement. 

The world was at war. There were two sides to this war. Two sides, but five factions. The sides were clear cut. Those that wanted to use the developing magic and technology as tools and those who worshiped them as gifts from the gods.

The factions are more complex. There were the Orthodoxy. Those who served the gods. Most of the western countries made up the bulk of this faction. They opposed use of magic as a tool, but they also rejected technology. But, some held the view that both were given by the gods to be used freely. 

There were the Templars. These embraced both but worshiped them as well. Templars were scatted far and wide, but their hub was to the south. 

Those that attempted to make peace and accept all views were given the name Trustees. They were even more scattered, but they were trusted by all. Right up until they betrayed the world. 

The Kingdoms are next. The Kingdoms were a collection of states caught in the fighting, between the powers. Their motivation was simply to protect themselves: to weather the war or end it quickly by throwing their lot in with the winning side. It was here the main threat lurked, unknown to all but me and those I confided in.

The fourth faction was mine. I am Kaiser of an Empire and, moreover, Hero of the World. Our belief is that magic and technology is by man and for man. Out stated goal was to use unite the world using magic and technology as mankind’s tools. Our true goal was to end the gods and usher in a new era. One where man had the ability to make their destiny. 

The fifth faction was not one of man, but of would-be gods. The Undying. Beings of great power, true, but as fallible, if not more so than any man. No one but I and their chosen knew of their existence. From the time when the true gods vanished, through age after age, these beings have guided and shaped mankind through gifts of knowledge and power. 

In the not distant past, one of their chosen built a great alliance of the people of the world, ushering in an era of peace and prosperity. An era built upon a mountain of corpses. Their ultimate goals I do not know. Their motives are a mystery to me. But their cruelty and apathy are boundless. Humans are their playthings. Their toys. 

This war, however, is different from those in the past. This war, mankind has power. Power like they have never had before. Power to level mountains and dry seas. Power even to destroy the world. Power to threaten those who would be gods. It is, for this reason The Undying instigated this war. A war with no winners. To raze the world and most of mankind with it, sending it back into an age of darkness. A reset.

But how would I, a man, however respected, stop this? A word to those who follow the will of the divine and Hero or not, my country would be at war for heresy. Part of the problem is my realization came too late: War was already inevitable. 

Hero. I have referred to myself here as such, haven’t I? I don’t think of myself as one. But I feel compelled to explain why I was called ‘Hero’, for two reasons. First, this is when I first met the Undying’s hand. Second, in the event that history’s cruel hand distorts the truth. Because that is why I am writing this. The Truth. However, I don’t wish to cloud this account with my unimportant deeds, so I shall exercise brevity. 

I was Prince and my kingdom was small when a great lich lord rose to power. He was a magus gone mad with desire for power. Classic fairytale really. It began conquering, setting its dark armies across the land. Mine was next. And its last. I lead my armies against it, and though it was a terrible battle, we prevailed. Our success was due to two things: a genius inventor whose magitech was far advanced, and a perilous mission I and an elite squad undertook to find and destroy the lich’s phylactery. 

When the dust settled we were heroes. We saved the world from the lich.

I think we were only heroes because the other side were villains. We did horrible things. We had to.

I hear commotion. I have little time. 

During the height of the war, I had a dream. In that dream, a glowing being offered me a Stone that glowed with the light of ten thousand stars. It promised me power to protect my kingdom and it promised to make my kingdom prosper until it covered the world.

I turned it down. Shocking, really. I still wonder why I didn’t accept. I might have saved countless lives. Back then, we thought we were fighting a hopeless battle. There was no hope of winning. Only to delay. 

But I didn’t and we won. Human ingenuity and courage won the day. Yet the corpses piled high.

I forgot about the dream. After the war, my energy was focused on helping my father rebuild. We found ourselves suddenly enlarged, in charge of the countries the lich had already overrun. Less important things could wait.

Time passed.

Wounds healed, fear was forgotten and politics set in. Once again, war loomed, for the reasons I explained above. I find it ridiculous that so soon after mankind faced subjugation, it so readily turned on itself. 

But I have no room to talk.

As the world hurtled to another brutal war, small details, small inconsistencies bothered me. No. They consumed me. I agonized over the details, doing research that would have gotten me killed had I been anything less then a very cautious crown prince and general of one of the greatest military forces in the world. Assassins came out of the woodworks for me. Again, none more than I am surprised that I yet live.

To make a long story short, I discovered the presence of The Undying. Not one night later, I dreamed of them. This time, I knew who they were. I asked them of their purpose. They told me. And again, they offered me power. A place, promises of protection. They had tried this before.

But I could not be part of their plan. They wanted to return humans to Stone Ages, eliminate all history that ever was and start over. In return, they offered to make me one of their number. With sickened realization, I knew this wasn’t the first time. That I was talking to once-men that had sold their race for power and immortality.

I turned them down again. I swore that I would stop them. I would tear them down from their empyrean seats and let the collective of man decide his own path.  

They laughed. They told me that man would decide himself to extinction. 

They could be right. But at least it would be his own choice. 

My plan was a desperate one. I had to become something I wished never to be. A tyrant.

A week later, I killed my father. Took his throne. Declared war. I struck first. If I could gather the world’s greatest powers: miracles of magic and technology, and the might of man, I could unseat The Undying. 

I have failed. Their champion, tempted with power, rose from Kingdoms, drawing out the war. In time, the Undying were able to engineer my doom.

I am a tyrant. I have painted the earth red with the blood of innocents. For my atrocities, I deserve my fate. 

But, the future does not.

In my last moments, I have hope. Dear reader: I have sown seeds. Seeds that, if cultured, will grow into the roots of a new civilization. One greater then ever. One that may yet realize my goal:

To put the reigns of History in the hands of Man.

This vault contains the first seed, and clues to more, which lead to more.

The Undying are not infallible. They can be beaten. Do not give up hope.[/i]

The figure closed the book with a thump. There was more but it did not care. It considered the slim volume for a moment. Then, with a gesture, the book burst into flames. Protective runes burst to life, but flickered and failed as the octane fire consumed them. A flick of its wrist and ash joined ash.

With an air of satisfaction, the being walked out, more fire spreading in its wake.
[/hider]

Word count: 2,010 [sub][sub]sorry. good year though[/sub][/sub]