[b][h1][center]Tales of The Shattered Courts[/center][/h1][/b] [I]Fire, horrific burning fire, lightning, the cracking of earth, the cries of the damned and worthless. That is all they could remember, at least, those who could even remember to begin with. They lived within a hellish metal corpse now anyway, so it mattered little what had happened. Many are more concerned with survival, some continuing long forgotten orders and decrees, others acting upon mere base inscists, some from the city itself, others from beyond. It made no matter, they were within the Shattered Courts now. And there was no escape.[/i] [hr] [u][h3]De Fundamentis Sanctus[/h3][/u] The bells rang through the broken grounds, shattered windows and collapsed walls allowed its cry to sound unfettered throughout the groves and halls. Golden spires and walls, lined with the art of tales long abandoned and forgotten, icons to a religion brought to its violent end, yet the tolling of bells told another story. Its call summoning the beasts the lie within to wake, another day in their endless mission. Slowly they awoke, their bones creaking under the strain of the sets of rusted metal and worn cloth that was permanently bound and fused to their tattered skin. Decrepit hands grasped old rusted weapons forged in times long forgotten by that which held them. Beneath their broken helmets, coarse throats uttered hymns that had been seared into their rotten minds, praises and pleas to gods that were long dead and forgotten, only remembered in the thoughts of these broken beasts, no longer able to be called mortals. They began their marches and patrols, they took their positions amongst the shattered grounds and churches, once beautiful spires brought low by the great cataclysm yet would still be defended, holy grounds desecrated yet still the centers of the worship of decrebid things. Some organized into long columns, marching through the streets that staggered and jutted, led by blinded monks whose voices called out for mercy to things that could no longer listen, their rotting skin tearing at the crack of the barbed whips they carried and slashed upon their own bodies. Those that walked behind these crying priests held their heads down in supplication, begging for forgiveness for transgressions and crimes that are nothing more than faded memories, images covered in the hazy mist of minds that can no longer keep up, if they faltered at any moment, they would be punished, the barbed whips and weapons of their companions turned against them. Within once hallowed halls priests adorned in great tattered and bloodied garbs would gather and meet, their great symbols of office now even greater tattered relics of their holy cause. They spoke in loud whispers of sacrosanct orders and decrees, their ancient skin creaking at every slow, painstaking, movement as they argued over doctrinal differences that emerged in ages not even they could remember. Yet, they did not falter in their mission, afterall, this was the work of the gods, there could be no schism, no division, they needed to continue these orders, as no others would come in. Though none within these once mighty cathedrals and holy sites realized that this was because those who gave the orders were dead, their corpses littering the halls they stood in. They would defend this holy land, this city claimed by the divine right of the gods, their beautiful treasures trapped within grand vaults guarded by warriors of endless faith and devotion. Yet, what wonders truly lie within these sacred halls? What artifacts of ags long forgotten are buried under the watch of these holy warriors? Relics of power and divinity far beyond any comprehension of those both within and beyond the walls of the fallen city. What tales would emerge, this land of divinity, trapped in eternal supplication for sins and crimes long abandoned, De Fundamentis Sanctus, the eternal light. [hr] [u][h3]De Charash Delka[/h3][/u] Thousands of creatures packed into the massive halls of the grand palace, legs of flesh, metal, and chitin pounding away as they skittered as quickly as they could, the Throne had called them, they must heed it. The walls pulsated with fleshly-fungal growths that snaked alongside the cramped mass of creatures, as they rampaged through the halls. Some ran upon two legs, some four, others six, or eight, or far more or far less, these creatures rarely looked the same, their forms being a horrendous fusion of flesh, fungi, metal, and chitin all fused and stitched together, some looked liked twisted mockeries of humans, others were formless masses of flesh and guts held together by metal plates that shot themselves along with sickening tendrils, the majority looked akin to large insect like creatures, their chitin transitioning to metallic spike like legs with fleshy-fungal growths emerging from in between the plates. Yet, as all these different creatures and beasts bounded throughout the halls, they worked in perfect unity, not one faltering, none tripping over one another, for they all shared one mind, guided by the first amongst them all, their custodian, the Throne. The Throne sat amongst the great hall of the fallen palace, vast networks of that fungal flesh material covered the walls and floors, they spiraled up pillars and made homes amongst the rafters, covering once beautiful marble and stone that had already long become faded and worthless by the time their infestation had come. The ground had become cracked, shattered, tiles and carpets tossed aside like they were nothing more than some worthless speck, growths of that heinous flesh emerged through the ground wherever they could, reaching high above in some mockery of prayer. At the end of the hall, sat the Throne itself, a pulsating mass of the flesh with tendrils and strands emerging from it, connecting to the vast network that surrounded it, pulses shooting out from its horrific form to travel through the vast consciousness it presided over. It was no ruler, no, it was not the creator, merely another part of the great hive that had chosen here as its home, crafted to serve as the first among equals, the brain of the massive body. They had come here, settled here, to survive, they needed a home, and these ancient halls, abandoned and empty, with crumbling towers and rotten grounds, were perfect for them. The palace was vast, and could serve as their new home within this strange and terrifying land. And so, they took root, from a collection of minor pods to the massive hive that they now were. In truth, they had no care for what this place once was, the vast wealth stored within were foreign and alien to them, of no use to the practicality of the hive, it could not be eaten, it could not be made into bedding, or used to create more of their hive, and so, it was worthless. Yet, they barely touched them, and so, these relics, artifacts, icons of ages long past, scattered throughout the halls of their home. To think, such beacons of power and glory, a lens to the history of a place no longer recognized, is merely tossed aside. One then has to wonder, what could they find in there? What wealth? Prestige? Fame? All hidden away within these halls so corrupted and tortured, so fragently desecrated. Now home to this endless horde of beast of flesh and metal, to break through, would truly be the work of a hero, that who broke through this land of putrid infection. De Charash Delka, the vast palace. [hr] [u][h3]De Merakashi Ishra[/h3][/u] The groaning of steel stacked high within the air, of rusted machines no longer serving a purpose, being pushed in the wind, threatening to topple over at any second. Once a bustling center of industry and commerce, now laid to ruin from time and destruction, nothing more than a hallowed graveyard of machines and buildings, bleached white skeletons littering everywhere, some laid upon the floor, others propped up within the machines they once operated, their final acts to continue their work. Yet, amongst the wreckage, one thing stood out amongst the rest, large pools of oil-like substance, coloured a swirl of blues, purples, reds, oranges, and greens, like that of an oil-slick. These pools bubbled and boiled within the confines of their metal home, seemingly nothing more than the spillage of a former heart of industry, yet it was what came out of them that was far more important. From within the pits they would emerge, large beasts of that same multi-coloured oil emerged, their limbs snapping from the pools into shifting, malleable, forms topped with featureless mounds for faces, elongated arms ending with club like tips from which sticky tendrils would emerge, and legs that squelched and smooshed down as they walked. These creatures stirred and rumbled, trudging through the vast graveyard that they called home. Their mission was a simple one, to search the machines of days long past, to rip from them the relics and pieces of the old ages, to write down the ancient symbols of those that came before, to meticulously research and to uncover the grand history of the shattered city, no matter the cost. They would tear apart the rusted and rotted machines with ease, graverobbers in every sense of the word, desecrating the glory they so sought to research and to the large structures of iron and steel they would bring their works, the items they had found, parts, symbols, tools of trade, anything that could be collected they gathered within their hovels and dens, proudly displaying them like trophies of their research. Such dedication, such bountiful joy in the discovery of what the past was, what came before them within the shattered towers and crumbling streets, things they would never ever be able to meet. Yet, these creatures, so simplistic in their creation, emerging from these pools of such inert material, why did they have such dedication? Such drive to catalogue and research? Going to such great lengths to secure their obsessions, even fending off the other beasts and creatures of the shattered city with such ferocity and fervor. One has to wonder, was their creation a fluke? Or was it something far, far more? And to say nothing of their great relics! These literal troves of knowledge that could bring such a lens to the past, the wealth the academia would have with these troves secured! But of course, those who hold these troves and vaults are quite fiercely protective of them, already having gone to great lengths to secure what relics they could find, one would not even think the reaction these things would have upon those who would dare to steal from them. Such vast knowledge, all locked away within this land, another district amongst these Shattered Courts, De Merakashi Ishra, the graveyard of the ancients. [hr] [u][h3]De Yushi Lesra[/h3][/u] They had not been here forever, when compared to the other ancient and immeasurable districts within the city, they were the youngest. Flooded by the sudden re-arrival of water, pouring throughout the area, covering the streets and walkways, collapsing houses and buildings and sweeping them into large concentrations of debris that floated throughout the area. High above them stood the towers of metal and steel, still standing proudly even as moss and rust clambered and climbed upon their beams and rods. Beneath these great towers, hiding underneath the clouds of scrap and debris, just below the polluted water of the district, lurked forms of metal, long jagged tails swishing behind them as four finned legs tipped with horrific claws propelled them through the brackish waves, their crocodile like jaws snapping at fish, as six piercing red eyes scanned the darkness they lived within with a hellish hunger. High above them, climbing the great towers, stood other metallic creatures, their forms rusted and scrap like, with elongated arms of fused metals, ending with incredibly long rusted claws that grasped and tore into the rods they ascended upon, their legs being bent almost backwards in a way, serving as further aids to their climb, their faces containing only a single large burning bright red eye. Upon catching sight of something, be it a tiny bird or a shiny relic, they would snatch at it, giving chase with utter ferocity, tearing apart anything made of flesh and taking anything made of metal away, fusing any useful parts to their horrific stitched together bodies, and tossing any useless scraps down below, for the creatures of the depths to fight over. Yet, they would not climb to the highest points of the towers, for those were the domains of large beasts, their forms even more rusted than the others, creaking at every slow movement. They were large beings, sitting upon troves of countless objects stolen from the towers they sat upon, either taken from the climbers below them, or stolen directly when they claimed the towers for their own. With their wide bodies, long, beefy, arms and legs tipped with claws, and rusted and broken wings they could cover their troves for countless years, and there they would stay content, their long heads and two savage red eyes keeping an eternal watch. It's not like they would be going anywhere, their forms had long lost much of their grace, now they were slow beasts, still formidable in their own right, but ones that could barely move beyond their hordes. Treasures high, and treasures low, truly many options within these lands, wonders to be found by climbing the great towers that shoot out towards the sky, truly the clear option, fending off the guardians of troves and wealth. But what of the other option? To sink below the waves and lake and find what was lost to the water a relatively short time ago, in the grand scheme of things. To think of what those brave few could uncover? Such lost relics that many would overlook, truly, it’d be a tale worth of true glory, the treasure of De Yushi Lesra, the flooded trove. [hr] [u][h3]De Asmentis Lora[/h3][/u] Silence, pure, utter, silence. A pale mist consumed the outskirts of the once great city, houses that had long collapse covered so that one could barely see them right up to running into them. In truth, there was little here to have fallen, nothing like the grand spires and structures that sat in the distance, instead merely nothing more than buildings meant to house people in life and in death. It is a drap land, corpses are littered everywhere, from those who once lived amongst this grand city, to those who have found their way here, for this place serves as the first point to many. A great wall of mist and terror, leading to the wealth and wonders holed up the city beyond. The land here was unlike the others, there were no great guardians, beasts fighting for survival, savage creatures, nothing. Instead, there was merely the silence, that silence that smothered the roads and halls, no matter where one went it would follow, seemingly consuming any sound not made by outsiders. And there was that mist, that horrific thing, a pale yellowish-brown, it crept wherever it could, clouding visions, choking pathways, and confusing directions, it was seemingly alive, working against whoever would dare enter the passageway. Yet, if one dared to do this, it would be likely that they would hear things, the snapping of bones, crunching of flesh, cracking of wood and stone, quick noises that would sound off like cannons in the silence that so corrupted the area. And if one took good looks deep within the mist, they would be forgiven if they thought they saw shapes amongst it, dark and tall, nothing more than a mass of form deep within their clouded view that would quickly vanish behind corners or objects. One does have to wonder, what truly made all these corpses? As many of them are fresh. To pass by this place, this horrific, accursed land, is to be given entry to a land of pure riches and glory. A grand journey that would almost certainly deliver onto them relics and artifacts long thought lost, a chance to learn the history of what came before. But, if one could dare to explore this land of terror, to explore deeper into the mists and pathways, to brave the silence and what lays beyond, what would they be able to find? What items long overlooked were there? Remnants of those who lived beyond the city’s glory and wealth. All locked away behind that tortuous mist and silence of De Asmentis Lora, terror’s gate. [hr] Five Districts, five vaults of treasure. Only some of the many creatures and horrors found within the Shattered Courts, that land of eternal torment, a grand beacon to all of what terror the end brought to all. A place for names to be forged, and for the unworthy to die, for wealth to be made, and lost, for history to be discovered and made. To know what terror lies within those hollow halls and streets is to also know what true power looks like. All hidden away within the Shattered Courts, the eternal mausoleum. [hider=summary] The Shattered Courts, a once great city, pretty much brought to ruin by the apocalypse, now filled with all sorts of beasts and monsters, but [i]also[/i] filled with all sorts of tasty goodies. The post itself is about five districts within the Shattered Courts, the Grounds, Palace, Graveyard, Towers, and Passage, each one with their own theme and main creatures: Grounds-Religious buildings, guarded by half-dead holy servants Palace-a large royal palace, filled to the brim by a fungal-fleshy hivemind Graveyard-industrial/mechanical ruins with oil-like creatures seeking knowledge Towers-a flooded district with debris and giant towers above the waves with metal creatures gone rouge Passage-a deadland full of unnatural silence and a pale yellow mist, inhabited by only corpses (;]) These are not the only places within the Shattered Courts and most definitely not the only creatures, and adventurers seeking to brave the terror of the city are sure to find a variety of things. [/hider] [hider=MA] -As much MA as needed(probably just 1 but not sure): -Create the Shattered Courts and its first Five Districts, a large city of the old times now made into a massive ruin by the apocalypse and inhabited by a variety of creatures and beasts. Details of the first five districts are in the summary as to the general theme, which is not an exhaustive list of the districts and creatures within, and people are encouraged to add districts if they’d like or various other creatures. [/hider]