Your group is accepted as well, Circ.
Zyamasiel Member
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Circ,
Punished GN,
Xol Raiyel
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I'll accept this, but you still need five members to become "official" and have those territories count as important places in the world.
Yep, you're doing it exactly as the format asks. Good job. I hope you can find some friends to play with soon.
After all these years, you’d think the nerves wouldn’t bother him anymore. They did. They probably always would. He paced back and forth on the marble floor, his eyes watching the floor dead ahead while a myriad of people spoke back and forth, their words falling on deaf ears. In truth, they were loud enough to be heard – but the sounds from outside were overpowering. The city, itself, was deafening every day. Today was worse, though. The crowd growing outside the Palace of Kings, named by some old leader from a time long before him, was screaming and chanting – their words were the ones which concerned him. They screamed obscenities and disgust. They were angry, and they had every right to be that way. Yesterday, in the early hours of the morning, an incursion occurred on their industrial world.
The mines were attacked, and hundreds of thousands of innocent workers lost their lives defending what belonged to them. Currently, the Armada was in pursuit of the invaders – and he didn’t doubt for a minute word of their utter demise would reach him soon. However, right now he had little to nothing to show for their efforts. He doubted the people would be happy if those were the words he spoke to them. The people in the room were talking a mile a minute, offering opinions and ideas on what to say, on how to pacify the crowd. On some level, their words registered and the pertinent pieces he stored away for use, but for the most part they spouted their usual nonsense.
A special meeting of the Council was already called, and he wondered when they’d begin to filter in from their respective homes and haunts. The Council of Gods was already prepared, the tables set out and the chairs brought in – those high backed, uncomfortable monstrosities they used out of a love for tradition. Still, it would be good to have people who truly understood what it meant to run things around again. They’d been separated for some time, each working on their own places and things – building up their own peoples. The council rarely met anymore, but that would have to change. Things were changing. Undiscovered cultures were coming from nowhere and attacking him. HIM! Shaking his head, he stopped pacing and turned toward the oversized window.
The people in the room stopped, as the chiming sound announcing midday began to ring. It was time for him to give his speech, and he shifted nervously as his feet carried him to the stand holding his ceremonial outfit. The long, black robes covered every inch of his body from the neck down – the collar raising up and up until it stood a full foot above his head. His hands wrapped around the cool metal of the head-covering, which enclosed around his head with a resounding snap. It was stuffy and hot, not even a few minutes of wearing it and he sweated bullets beneath it, but it was part of the outfit. The thing had no mouth, but it was comforting to the people who knew it. To outsiders, of course, it was a bit intimidating – and in some cases kind of ridiculous.
Within the confines of the helm, he opened the Gya’kun – his third eye pulling apart on his forehead. The exertion of his spiritual essence washed over the crowd when he pulled back the curtains and stepped out into the midday sun. His hands lifted, and the essence spreading out amongst them brought silence to the crowd. Of course, they all thought it was their own idea to quiet down and listen, but it was truly just mass mind control keeping their tongues still.
“My people, I regret having to be here today. I regret the circumstances which brought us together. This attack was unprovoked. This attack was atrocious, and the work of an unknown group of terrorists. Right now, as we speak, the Armada is running them down. They will not last throughout the remainder of the day, that much I promise you. But, let us not forget what happened. The mines were attacked, presumably for control of our immense resources – and people lost their lives. But, their sacrifices cannot be thought of as in vain.
“They saved our land. The ones who died fought bravely, and they died well defending the resources which keep you, their family, safe. They fought with what they had, and I promise you they will not be forgotten. In the future, this will not be a problem any longer. Effective immediately, the security around Furyk will be increased ten-fold. Several legions of the Armada are being moved as we speak, and stations are currently in production that will automate a defense system surrounding the planet. Until these defenses are in place, however, travel between the worlds will be restricted.
“I apologize for any inconvenience this might visit upon you, but we simply cannot risk more lives at this moment. You, the people, are what make this Federation great – you make us the power that we are, and I will not allow you to be in unnecessary danger. When more information is known, it will be passed along through the appropriate channels. Please, my friends, return to your homes. Mourn the lost, celebrate the living. And remember, we are one people. One world.”
As he spoke, the Gya’kun slowly closed – until by the end the only thing keeping the people silent was their own willingness to listen. It opened their minds, allowed him to begin uninterrupted – and then closed. They listened on their own now, their rapt attention focused on his every word. His hands lowered to, until they rested on the massive stone balcony and he leaned against it, his words reverberating throughout the whole system. He held tightly, indenting the balcony with his fingers. The anger was apparent in his voice, and the people felt the true passion in his words.
As he finished speaking, they began clapping – loud, raucous clapping and screams of adulation and joy at knowing the Federation planned to take care of them. Of course, some were angry at the travel restrictions – their vacations ruined, or trips to visit their families on distance worlds. That didn’t mean they didn’t understand the necessity, however, and even they joined in the clapping and screaming eventually. Smiling inside the mask, Odwin turned and walked back through the balcony window – reaching up and unsnapping the helm, setting it back on the pedestal.
Sweat ran down his face, but he refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he walked to the opposite end of the room and pushed open the door from his office. The air on the other side seemed to warp and twist back in on itself, and then the council chambers appeared directly before him – separated inside its own, special pocket dimension. A plethora of doors lead off in random directions, the pathway in and out for the other members of the council – who should be arriving any moment.
There was much to discuss, and many new rules and sanctions that would be put into place after the recent events. He took his seat at the end of the table, and his eyes closed as he lost himself in his thoughts – attempting to figure out who might have thought to attack them, after all these years of peace and prosperity for everyone.
The mines were attacked, and hundreds of thousands of innocent workers lost their lives defending what belonged to them. Currently, the Armada was in pursuit of the invaders – and he didn’t doubt for a minute word of their utter demise would reach him soon. However, right now he had little to nothing to show for their efforts. He doubted the people would be happy if those were the words he spoke to them. The people in the room were talking a mile a minute, offering opinions and ideas on what to say, on how to pacify the crowd. On some level, their words registered and the pertinent pieces he stored away for use, but for the most part they spouted their usual nonsense.
A special meeting of the Council was already called, and he wondered when they’d begin to filter in from their respective homes and haunts. The Council of Gods was already prepared, the tables set out and the chairs brought in – those high backed, uncomfortable monstrosities they used out of a love for tradition. Still, it would be good to have people who truly understood what it meant to run things around again. They’d been separated for some time, each working on their own places and things – building up their own peoples. The council rarely met anymore, but that would have to change. Things were changing. Undiscovered cultures were coming from nowhere and attacking him. HIM! Shaking his head, he stopped pacing and turned toward the oversized window.
The people in the room stopped, as the chiming sound announcing midday began to ring. It was time for him to give his speech, and he shifted nervously as his feet carried him to the stand holding his ceremonial outfit. The long, black robes covered every inch of his body from the neck down – the collar raising up and up until it stood a full foot above his head. His hands wrapped around the cool metal of the head-covering, which enclosed around his head with a resounding snap. It was stuffy and hot, not even a few minutes of wearing it and he sweated bullets beneath it, but it was part of the outfit. The thing had no mouth, but it was comforting to the people who knew it. To outsiders, of course, it was a bit intimidating – and in some cases kind of ridiculous.
Within the confines of the helm, he opened the Gya’kun – his third eye pulling apart on his forehead. The exertion of his spiritual essence washed over the crowd when he pulled back the curtains and stepped out into the midday sun. His hands lifted, and the essence spreading out amongst them brought silence to the crowd. Of course, they all thought it was their own idea to quiet down and listen, but it was truly just mass mind control keeping their tongues still.
“My people, I regret having to be here today. I regret the circumstances which brought us together. This attack was unprovoked. This attack was atrocious, and the work of an unknown group of terrorists. Right now, as we speak, the Armada is running them down. They will not last throughout the remainder of the day, that much I promise you. But, let us not forget what happened. The mines were attacked, presumably for control of our immense resources – and people lost their lives. But, their sacrifices cannot be thought of as in vain.
“They saved our land. The ones who died fought bravely, and they died well defending the resources which keep you, their family, safe. They fought with what they had, and I promise you they will not be forgotten. In the future, this will not be a problem any longer. Effective immediately, the security around Furyk will be increased ten-fold. Several legions of the Armada are being moved as we speak, and stations are currently in production that will automate a defense system surrounding the planet. Until these defenses are in place, however, travel between the worlds will be restricted.
“I apologize for any inconvenience this might visit upon you, but we simply cannot risk more lives at this moment. You, the people, are what make this Federation great – you make us the power that we are, and I will not allow you to be in unnecessary danger. When more information is known, it will be passed along through the appropriate channels. Please, my friends, return to your homes. Mourn the lost, celebrate the living. And remember, we are one people. One world.”
As he spoke, the Gya’kun slowly closed – until by the end the only thing keeping the people silent was their own willingness to listen. It opened their minds, allowed him to begin uninterrupted – and then closed. They listened on their own now, their rapt attention focused on his every word. His hands lowered to, until they rested on the massive stone balcony and he leaned against it, his words reverberating throughout the whole system. He held tightly, indenting the balcony with his fingers. The anger was apparent in his voice, and the people felt the true passion in his words.
As he finished speaking, they began clapping – loud, raucous clapping and screams of adulation and joy at knowing the Federation planned to take care of them. Of course, some were angry at the travel restrictions – their vacations ruined, or trips to visit their families on distance worlds. That didn’t mean they didn’t understand the necessity, however, and even they joined in the clapping and screaming eventually. Smiling inside the mask, Odwin turned and walked back through the balcony window – reaching up and unsnapping the helm, setting it back on the pedestal.
Sweat ran down his face, but he refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he walked to the opposite end of the room and pushed open the door from his office. The air on the other side seemed to warp and twist back in on itself, and then the council chambers appeared directly before him – separated inside its own, special pocket dimension. A plethora of doors lead off in random directions, the pathway in and out for the other members of the council – who should be arriving any moment.
There was much to discuss, and many new rules and sanctions that would be put into place after the recent events. He took his seat at the end of the table, and his eyes closed as he lost himself in his thoughts – attempting to figure out who might have thought to attack them, after all these years of peace and prosperity for everyone.
This is the opening roleplay for the GM group, and will consist currently of those members involved directly in building the over-arcing story. But, feel free to begin your own Roleplays in their own threads at any itme - just remember everything affects everything else.
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