STATUS:
Sorry for my lack of posts lately. I've just... been struggling to get the energy to write something up. I'm trying some new meds through so hopefully that will change soon.
9 yrs ago
Current
Sorry for my lack of posts lately. I've just... been struggling to get the energy to write something up. I'm trying some new meds through so hopefully that will change soon.
As the pain started to ease, Fortune knew that this was the end. The idea of running now was unacceptable, both because of the harm it would have done to the De Vigny name if it ever got out and because there was no escape from the black void around them. The one possible path to victory laid with a machine that he didn't understand how to use and the one person whom did was having trouble and needed more time; Time that the traitor and the daemon wouldn't be giving them. Not without something major happening to turn the tide of this engagement...
Closing his eyes, he turned to the goddesses that he had dedicated his faith too once more... but this time it was different then before. When he spoke, he spoke with a quiet conviction of a man whom has accepted that they are about to die and has come to terms with it. "Please give me this one last blessing... and make my death worth it. Help me strike this foul creature down so that my companions may survive."
For a moment, nothing happened. He stopped spinning in the endlessly void, facing the ever growing mound of horrific flesh and its humanoid puppet... as well as one of the few that had managed to stay alive and sane up until this point. Whatever he had been doing, it was clear that it wouldn't work much longer; With grim resolve, Fortune ignored the pain in his arm as he started to drift himself back towards the scene of the coming battle. Sure his sword was gone, but he still had his shield and his fists! He would not disappear into the night quietly!
It was only as he started to drift that he seemed to begin picking up speed... and started to shine with a strange, bright light that enveloped his body. The aches and pains that had plagued him before seemed to vanish; In fact, he felt better then he had during his whole life! Slowly the light began to grow, pouring down his right arm in order to form a shape... a lance? While underneath him the light started to take the shape of a horse... no, an armored stallion! Ghost like in appearance but radiating a holiness that would not be denied.
What had started off as a slow drift through the void turned into a full thunderous gallop, one final charge against the twisted creature of darkness that called this abyss home in the name of all that was wholesome, holy and worth fighting and dying for! Aiming that lance towards the heart of the twisting pile of flesh, Andre reflected on his life and the vow he made to give his master and brother Fortune and the De Vigny line an ending much more fitting of their legacy then to die wasting away in a bed with plague... and was content with this ending.
With one final leap from a mount granted to him by the Goddesses themselves, Fortune De Vigny's final words as his divine lance made contact with daemonic flesh and both he and the foul creature itself were consumed by an explosion of pure, heavenly light were "FOR BRETONNIA!"
Under a sky of navy blue lay a figure, splayed on black sand. Threads and tubes extended from her, from her skull and back and joints, winding across the sand in every direction. They stretched out and up and away, into infinity. They bound her to something she had never seen, and could never reach.
She sat up.
A thick mess of tubes dragged across the sand as she raised her head, and the woman held herself in segmented arms. She was emaciated, half-finished, a jagged skeleton with glowing cores at her joints. She touched her face for the first time, and found it cracked and blindfolded. There she lay in the desert, tenderly exploring the ragged surface of her body with her hands.
At last she stood. Nausea gripped her, as if she were a bottle of insoluble fluids being shaken. Something thick filled her mouth and she coughed it out. It dribbled from her chin as she adjusted to the pose, and, slowly, began to walk.
One step at a time, the woman made her unsteady way over the sand, unable to see where she was going, or why. When she'd walked a few metres, her foot splashed faintly into water and silt. She drew it back, uncertain.
Watching silently at first as he inspected the twisted female form before him blindly step into a puddle as she attempted to find her feet, Farxus couldn't help but ponder exactly what he was witnessing. By all rights the woman before him shouldn't have existed as she did on this plane at all; Even a damaged soul could find itself starting to heal here, but the woman in front of him was... well, it was as if someone was actively building a fully developed soul but had only left the process half finished, or at least was having difficulty putting it together properly.
Taking a deep breath with lungs that didn't require air in the first place, Farxus stepped forward with the faintest of noises as the sand shifted under his feet or was brushed by the edges of his cloak. When he spoke his voice sounded like the slamming of a coffin lid, the ghostly wind that blew through the sealed tomb; A voice that would be the final one that a mortal would hear, but strangely enough it wasn't an unkind one. "Would you care for a hand Miss? You seem to be having trouble walking at the moment."
She choked, a little, then snapped an "I'm fine," and finally came to a complete halt. Her hand went to her mouth as if unsure of what she was doing. "I'm... I'm not fine." Her fingers pulled away with a string of fluid, turning, trying to feel what had been inside her. "I'm... I'm..."
The figure twisted her head, as if to listen for the voice that greeted her. "I'm not... Where are you? Where am I?"
Under normal circumstances Farxus would have been content to stay back, have a brief conversation with whomever was in front of him and then leave them to their own devices... but under the circumstances a more personal touch was required. Striding forward over the dark sand, he reached out and carefully took her bonelike claw in his own bony hand and gave it a small squeeze to let her know that she wasn't alone. She held it, counting his phalanges with her fingertips, frowning with deja vu.
"Where you are doesn't have a name, but it is the first place that those who are dead and dying arrive when they die before traveling to their final destination. However, I've found that those who have a close brush with death tend to visit this place as well, which is why you are here now. Tell me, do you know what your name is?"
The figure nodded. "My name is Yolluun, of Reas'Thul," she answered firmly, then gripped Farxus's wrist as if to anchor herself, looking up and past him with covered eyes. "No! No. My name... My name is... I'm..."
Releasing the demigod, she ran her fingers abruptly through the crop of tubes in her skull, and seemed to recall. "Lambda Nineteen. That's it. Lambda-19. That's who I am. That's me." Saying it aloud seemed to settle her, and Lambda-19 repeated it until she fell into quiet. "...But how can I be here?" she asked abruptly, fumbling for his hand as if afraid that he'd walked away. "I thought... The prophets told us... I'm not dead. Am I?"
After it became clear what she had been looking for, he reached out to take her hand once more in order to settle her nerves once again. "You're not dead, Lambda. As for how exactly you got here..." He trailed off a little, as he honestly had to consider that himself. "I do not know. All I know is that you are here but you're not meant to be yet. However since I appear to have you at a disadvantage, my name is Farxus. Despite the circumstances, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Farxus. Honoured." The figure moved uncertainly, looking for a memory, then put her fist to her chest and gave a shallow bow. "I think I'm meant to be dreaming."
Tilting his head a little, the demi god of undeath (and the closest thing to a death god left) gazed at the bowing figure before him with a degree of confusion as shards of memories that weren't his own came to the forefront of his mind. Despite the woman's current state of being, it was clear that she was a Pronobis, of some kind... which was strange.
Because the Pronobii were meant to have been wiped out with his predecessor.
"I don't think you're the only one... to the best of my knowledge the last of the Pronobii died shortly after Reathos stupidly got himself killed fighting Vestec. How are you alive?" He asked softly; It was't a question that he had to ask anyone that often.
It seemed to take Lambda-19 a while to correlate what he was saying to what she knew. "The last of the Pronobii... How am I alive. How am I alive." She looked up, and put her thumb into the band of her blindfold. "I think..."
More memories, unclear and yet complete. Farxus saw the inside of an amnion veined with glowing red. Umbilica coiled around Lambda-19's limbs, caught between her fingers. Little blood-scorpions swimming in the bubble, biting and building at her cores like wasps at the hive. A tear. A flaw. A sarcoma that demanded mending. The blue darkness of deep water just outside, where absolute emptiness was being drained and filled with energy. Power harvested from the void.
"I think I'm being born," said Lambda-19, lifting away the sash that covered her eyes. Crow eyes. Vivid blue pupils dotted onto a white sclera that swam with glyphs.
Privately, Farxus was inclined towards the idea that she was being 'made' rather then born, but despite his lack of social interactions that lasted longer then a few minutes he had enough tact not to say so. Still... the fact that one of the gods was reviving the dead species of a departed god was a concerning one to say the least. "I see... he muttered as he tried to stall for a few moments to think.
"You seem to be receiving memories from someone called Yolluun. What exactly do you remember?" A question born as much of curiosity as it was to give him time to try and adjust to the enlightenment that he had just received.
She looked up, and around, over the river she'd come so close to falling into. "Nothing. Just the name. Yolluun, Arcadia, Gehenna, Nimueh, names and names... I remember things, but none of them line up. Conversations, places, ceremonies. This is the first memory of my own." Back at Farxus. "But why are you here? The Great Prophet... She said..."
Lambda-19's cracked face flew into shock. "Reathos. The Great God! The Great God is dead! Did Chaos grow so strong? What will happen to the lost souls now?"
In hindsight he wasn't at all surprised by the fact that the knowledge that Reathos was gone was an overwhelming one. One that honestly should have been explained with more skill, and tact, than Farxus had really given it. It was too late now, through...
He nodded his head to confirm her fears a little. "I do not know the full story myself. I didn't come into existence until after Reathos was gone and I do not have much in the way of memories or what his thought process was like at the time. Personally I believe he made several mistakes in how he did things. Primarily his fatal decision to challenge the god of chaos to a battle to the death in the realm of madness itself. Though I will be the first to confess that it is easy to say such a thing with the benefit of hindsight."
The unborn soul stared at him, then out over the river again, and finally down at the dust, holding herself.
Was it bold to claim that the being who came before you did things wrong, considering that Reathos was a proper god and he was merely a shadow of what Reathos had been? Most likely, but Reathos was gone and had left him to pick up the pieces of the mess he had left behind.
"I can, however, meet your other two questions with the same answer. The reason I am here is to take care of the lost and the damned; To try and fix this awful mess that Reathos's death has brought and offer aid to those who have been affected by it in one manner or another."
Though she didn't turn her head from the sand, Lambda-19's eyes rose back to meet his. "When the Great God was alive," she began, "He made us promise... No, we were in debt to him. Everything I see in my memories comes from Reathos. So in his name we swore to go out into the world, and strike down everything that had lived too long. For the Great God. That was going to be our crusade."
Her hands clasped, and she went down on one knee. "We... No. They made a solemn vow, which I inherit. Am I absolved, now that he is dead? Or shall I not rest until I see it carried through?"
As he gazed down at the kneeling woman before him, Farxus blinked a little in surprise at the gesture. Without a second thought he stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head as his voice almost took on a shy, bashful tone as he requested "D-Don't kneel to me. I am no one's lord or master."
It didn't look as though she would stand without an answer, though. Allowing himself to cough awkwardly, he quickly cleared his throat as he recognized that she had asked a very important question. It was one that he actually had a simple answer to. He shook his head. "No. It is not the duty of death to pursue the living like a damn Herakt. All things die sooner or later... even immortals like gods will die and fade away given enough time. We do not have to chase when we are already waiting at the end." She nodded.
There was a pause... before one of his hands tightened into a fist with the creaking of bone as a fire entered his voice. "However... there are those in this world that defile the natural order of things. They force the dead out of their graves, denying their souls the chance to make their final journey and rest in order to serve their own selfish whims. I will see these fiends removed from the world and..." for a moment he faltered, unsure of himself for just a moment as he looked down at the sand below them.
Thus saith the Prophet- Accept in thy heart the end that awaits, for only ill would lay in the return, thought Lambda-19.
"If you offer to help me do that... I promise that I will never forsake you, or forget your assistance."
"This I accept, and this I swear, in place of the old oath," answered the figure, and rose. She seemed taller than before. A warrior's shadow clinging to a frame. "I'll pray to hear from you again... Farxus."
Lambda's hand flexed. One of the cords at her back flicked and tightened. "I don't know when that will be, though," she admitted. "Or where I'm going."
A small, almost shy little smile appeared on Farxus's features as he raised his head to gaze at Lambda, simply answering "Do not worry. I'll find you."
The Pronobis warrior nodded. Her threads were tightening, one by one, pulling her back into wherever her body was. "I..." she began, then lay a hand on Farxus's shoulder. "Thank you."
Lambda-19 fell apart into flakes of snow and paper, and faded back into her coma. There was quiet. No wind to blow, no crickets to chirp. But something was stirring on the sand; cords and tubes, leading from nowhere into curled bodies that lay blindfolded on the bank of the river. They darkened, went from lines to shapes to ill-defined bodies, and then back again, like figures drawn in pencil, until there was nothing left.
Little by little, the Pronobii were rising from their grave.
In Farxus's desert limbo plane, a woman wakes up. She's unwell, and she appears to be tied to Galbar by some kind of life support. She's also blindfolded, her body indistinct and incomplete, with glowing balls of magic in her joints.
She walks forwards until she encounters the ford that marks the passage through death, and stops. Farxus greets her, and she seems confused about her location, wellbeing, and identity. Farxus gently talks her through her situation and infers that she's a Pronobis, though he's not sure how this could be the case. She introduces herself with a name made of numbers.
Looking into her most recent memory, he sees mostly darkness, and a kind of womb. It's clearly not a natural birth, despite what Lambda (the Pronobis) seems to think. He prompts her for more memories, though Lambda's seem to come from other Pronobii from long ago.
Lambda finally realises that Reathos is dead and it upsets her. Farxus feels a little bad about saying it bluntly earlier, and tells her what he knows about his demise, as well as about himself and his work in the plane. He says he intends to repair the damage caused by his predecessor.
Lambda asks if this means that she's still bound by her vow to wipe out Galbar's life. Farxus is repulsed by the idea. He humbly asks her assistance in fighting those that disturb the dead instead, and Lambda accepts gladly.
They part ways, hoping to meet again one way or another. It doesn't look like the unusual encounter will be Farxus's last.
While there were many misconceptions about plate armor when it went up against firearms, any knight worth their salt knew that having thick armor was merely half the story (Well... unless you had the raw physical power required to bare the weight of several ridiculously thick slabs of metal as armor like the damn greenskins). Good plate armor was designed to slope, redirect and reflect whatever came at it; It was designed to make glancing hits, arrows and bullets bounce off of it.
Fortune's armor was good armor and it did its duty; The bullet from Donny's gun struck his elbow at an angle and was bounced off to the side without punching through the armor itself... however, the sheer force behind the impact was still more then enough to cause problems as the blunt force of it fractured the bones in Fortune's elbow, causing him to scream in pain as he clutched his wounded elbow while he spun in the void a few times.
Name: Borgarum Flag/emblem/symbolism: Demonym: The Brogar Description: Once upon a time in Albion's past in a port city that history has forgotten the name of, a bunch of sailors had gathered around after a few drinks and were discussing rumors, legends and tall tales. After a time their attentions turned to the map of the known world and in order to tell stories about certain parts of the world when a young dwarf pointed towards an empty patch of ocean on the south western part of the map and asked "What's over here?"
"Nothing." Answered the other sailors. "It's just water that goes on forever."
"That's bull. There's got to be something there... even if it is just the edge of the world!" Soon enough, bets were being taken and the young dwarf gathered together his ship, his crew and a lot of supplies before sailing out to prove that he was correct. Correct he was as he found a series of islands that no one had ever seen before with strange fruits and giant nuts that offered milk when you cracked them open. Reporting his find back to his king, the king offered him the chance to be governor of a new settlement if the young captain wished to lead the colonization efforts. He agreed and the Borgarum Isle was colonized soon afterwards.
Borgarum would remain a loyal vassal for several generations until a series of events on the mainland destroyed its parent kingdom, leaving it an independent nation. Being so far away from any major trading routes and not really having much to trade that was worth other nations sailing out, Borgarum took advantage of its greatest strength; It's naval power. Being natural born sailors and owning some of the greatest ships to sail the seas without much in the way of enemies that can actually get at them, Borgarum hires out its naval services to other nations.
Government: The kingdom of Borgarum is a feudal monarchy with its current ruler being the newly ascended King Bokdrouth Dragonbuster, however matters of succession are treated differently here then in other feudal kingdoms. In order to be eligible for a land holding title, one must prove themselves deserving of it via obtaining an acceptable rank in either the army or (more likely) the navy. If the child of a current title holding is unable to reach the acceptable rank required to take over their parents title then on succession the land title and the land connected to it will pass on to someone who does; This system is designed to weed out those people who are unfit for the task of managing land.
The King of Borgarum has to have been the head of the navy, having earned his position through years of dedicated service and management of resources. On the ascension of a king, he frees up his former position in charge of the navy so that another talented officer can fill it while the King himself rules the nation. Therefore, the head of the navy is also the heir to the throne.
Considering that both nobles and commoners start off at the bottom in both military and naval organizations, it is actually possible for a commoner to improve their social standing via competent and talented service... and for noble families to lose their noble status for incompetence.
Economy: Borgarum has a strong shipbuilding industry, producing pound for pound some of the greatest ships to ever sail the seas while the kingdom itself produces sailors worthy of crewing them. They can also export the hardwood and iron that they produce but the real gem that the nation trades in is citrus; The various fruits and foods produced by Borgarum are vital for upholding the general health of those traveling at sea, as well as for nations with more restrictive diets. Sadly Borgarum has historically been to far out of the way to really be worth trading with for the nations of Albion...
Religion: There is only one goddess for the islands of Borgarum and that is the goddess of the ocean herself, Yella. Sailors and their relatives will make small offerings at special shrines in an attempt to earn the her favor for a good trip, but they are aware of the fact that her temper can be fickle. The closest thing to a priesthood that Yella has are the old sailors; Those who have sailed the seas for so long and heard so many stories from their peers that they seem to be in tune with the waves and the wind itself.
Geography: A tropical climate that is now largely made up of several large dwarven port cities that have grown over the years. Much of the original wilderness and plant life has long be destroyed but the more hardy and adaptable of the native plants have managed to survive and thrive around the dwarven settlements, adding a bit of natures beauty that helps enhance the appearance of the cities themselves. On the largest island of the kingdom is a large mountain and home to the iron mines while all over the lesser islands are the various orchards and fruit plantations that help to feed the population.
Population: 2,000,000 (a small population)
Demographics Almost 98% of the population is made up of Borgarum dwarves. The remaining 2% are travelers from either Albion itself or one of the other island nations nearby that have traveled to the islands and settled to some degree.
Notable Locations Koganusan- The capital city of Borgarum and located on the largest of the four islands. It is home to the royal palace, as well the smaller of the two naval shipyards and home to the iron mines that help fuel the nation. The city itself almost completely covers the island, with only several small orchards and a decreasing number of public spaces free of the city sprawl.
Serkeskal- Home to the second of Borgarum's two shipwards and located on the second largest of the islands of the nation, Serkeskal is much like Koganusan with the exception that it lacks the iron mines of the capital. Instead it focuses its efforts towards ship production and the training of marines and solders alike.
Dublar and Udibgoves- Located on the two smallest islands, Dublar and Udibgoves are almost completely dedicated to fruit plantations and orchards. Together they are the breadbasket of Borgarum.
Personalities of Note King Bokdrouth Dragonbuster - Current ruler of Borgarum. Grand Admiral Jaldrami Battlegranite - Current head of the Borgarum Navy and heir to the throne. General Lokin Ironriver - Current head of the Borgarum Army.
Institutions: The Ship Builders Guild The Engineers Guild The Civil Service
Military: Organization: The Naval forces of Borgarum enjoy a vast degree of independence and flexibility in their command structure under most circumstances; Considering their mercenary like nature, it is often the captain of the ship that decides the command structure of their own vessel as well as what tactics and weapons they will employ, provided that they stay within bounds acceptable to the laws of Borgarum and that of their client nation. Admirals may command a group of ships at once and Captains are expected to obey what orders they are given, but the Admiral will generally not interfere with the running of a captain's ship unless said captain is doing something illegal or corrupt that requires intervention.
The military enjoys a rather basic command structure, the smallest unit being a battalion. Each regiment is normally made up of three battalions, made up of two crossbow battalions and a battalion of armored halberdiers.
For those seeking to join both the navy and the army, it is required that the purchase their starting equipment.
Troop Total: Only 2% of the population serve in both the army and the navy at this point in time. Army: The army currently consists of around 10,000 professional solders, making up 3 regiments with support staff and cannon crews. Navy: The navy currently has around 30,000 members who are active sailors or marines spread out over the fleet. Other: Borgarum grade cannons are employed by the navy. There is a special branch of the navy who is tasked with keeping an eye on the various ships sailing under the Borgarum flag in order to ensure that the captains obey the few laws that are required of them; They largely operate in secret, but they have the authority to remove a captain by any means necessary if the situation calls for it.
Other: Naval Cannons (Strength): The Borgar dwarves took a shine to the idea of cannons shortly after the idea of gunpowder was introduced to them, but while other nations were screwing around trying to make the biggest cannon possible without really understanding how they worked, the Borgar poured a lot of time and effort into research and development in order to try and work out how to get the most out of them without them exploding. The research paid off in the end, allowing the development of the naval cannons that are loaded onto the ships of the Borgarum navy. Good range, solid hitting power and one will only explode if someone does something idiotic to it.
Strong Ships (Strength): A matter of prideful craftsmanship, the ships produced by the shipyards of Borgarum are made of fine hardwood that with a combination of fine craftsmanship and what little magic the Borgar dwarves possess are greatly enforced to withstand damage.
No Cavalry (Weakness): Borgarum has many things, but mounts are not one of them. In fact, the idea of riding a beast into battle actually makes most dwarven solders uneasy.
Territory Size: 2. Your nation is certainly small and could use some breathing room. Land is an expensive and highly sought after commodity here.
Population: 2,000,000 (a small population) Urbanization: 4. Your nation is unusually urbanized. You might have a lot of towns or a few really big cities, but either way a fair amount of your people have migrated to the population centers. This opens the door to much more industry and commerce but also leaves more of your people vulnerable to the dangers of city life: organized crime, filth, and disease. Government Type: 3. Your society is a feudal monarchy. Quite typical, there is a king who inherited the throne from his father, and then there are all manner of other aristocrats: dukes and barons and knights all swear fealty to one another in exchange for control of land, all in a complicated system of legal obligations... Political Stability: 2. Your people are growing increasingly discontent, but so far it hasn't boiled over to the point of violence. Or if it has, your government has found a way to suppress it before it erupted into anything major.
Economy
Overall Wealth: 5. Your nation is struggling and somewhat poor. The government and upper class are doing well enough, but the middle class of merchants and tradesmen are small and most of your people still occupy themselves with subsistence activities. That being said, at least they aren't starving in the streets. Government's Primary Means of Generating Income: 9. Your government controls the central bank, which just so happens to be the only bank allowed in your nation. This allows them to make most of their money through shameless usury. Technology: 4. Technological Parity; you're keeping up with the rest of Albion pretty well. Agriculture: 9. Your nation relies heavily upon orchards and fruit plantations. Coconuts, dates, or perhaps even bananas are your main crops. For some reason all this fruit seems to make your sailors a lot less likely to get scurvy. Natural Resources: Citrus, hardwood, iron
Military Military Size 2. Small core of elite soldiers, supplemented by some mercenaries in wartime. Overall not a very large force. Military Focus 10. Strong navy with small but very effective corps of marines, a small army that is noticeably lacking in cavalry, a few magic users Military Leadership 2. Generals rose to their positions through experience and battlefield exploits; competent, but also decadent Military Reputation 3. Popular domestically; considered capable by foreigners
Gredy grinned a little at Trip's enthusiasm. While Trip might have missed the exact point that Gredy was trying to make, he wasn't wrong in that it also presented the black goblins the chance to create new homes for themselves as well. "Tools is exactly the reason we're setting up a camp in the mountains. See, a couple of the lads found some iron and tin up there... as well as a bit of hardstone to make some really fancy stuff and to start digging into that we were going to make some basic tools out of stone. Once we get the iron we can start forging some proper tools to work with."
Taking a moment to put an arm over Trip's shoulder, Gredy decided to get down to business. "Now I'm more then happy for you guys to dig new homes in the mountains. Hell, my end goal here is to have the Enclave itself set up in the safety of the mountain with minor settlements and outposts throughout the swamp, through don't feel like you have to rush with that just yet. If you guys could also help us by taking over the mining, we can forge some proper tools and finally start building some proper houses and get started on finding a solution to the food situation. Sound good for you big guy?"
I know the feeling. I'm australian and not really religious at all; I don't think I've even met a Mormon in person, but I did my research and I hope that I can present the religion in a positive light.
You know, I can confess this now; When I was given the power to select one person to die, both myself and Fortune's first instinct was to offer up Donny as the sacrifice... but I decided against it because I didn't want to be a jerk and kill off another players' character.
In hindsight, Fortune was a good judge of character.
DX3214
Not a Sayan
SkyeOfStars
Veilsight
