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General Art The Dreamscape

Myriadviper42

Fulcrum Agent
Joined
Feb 14, 2010
Location
Control
A couple things before I begin. First off, I have decided that Reinhart, Gobli's character, will be the main character. :) And then to explain how this will work...A lot of the story will be in first person present tense from the POV of Reinhart. However, when the story goes to another event happening elsewhere, it will be in third person past tense. :dry: Yeah, yeah, I know, weird....Enjoy.


Prologue:

Reality is what keeps us anchored to ourselves. It binds us, makes us sure of what we are and who we are, our place in life. Someone who is unsure of their reality could be unstable. Which is interesting, actually. Because the entirety of what we consider to be “reality” isn’t. So are we all unstable? No. We perceive that what we see is indeed real-and it is, but not in the way that we think that it is. Namely, reality is a dream.

A dream of a god, known as the Overseer, to be accurate. Everything that makes up our universe is merely a figment of a dream, thinking that we are capable of free will, when really our fates are predetermined by the whim of the Overseer. Nothing is real, but at the same time, all of it is. As the Overseer sleeps, life in our world goes on, as it has for millions of years, and the Overseer shows no sign of stirring, waking up. But there are those that would like to see that happen.

For if he were to wake, the dream would be gone. Like when we wake up, when we struggle to remember the dream we had the previous night. And it would be gone. We would be gone, until the Overseer would return to sleep. But it would not be the same world with the same people. Our civilization, our people would cease to exist. As of now, peace is breaking inside the dream. King Aeriam III has grown to be an unpopular leader as the result of a radical group which is gaining momentum every day, led by the enigma Rauil, who happens to be capable of his own free will...

There are indeed those, such as Rauil, who are capable of choice, and of manipulating the dream itself-to some extent. They are known as the Awakened, and their abilities generally involve what most perceive as “sorcery.” Pyrokinesis, telekenesis, teleportation, and most significantly, Influence, or the ability to manipulate someone else inside the dream, are all examples of this power. Awakened are very rare, but some are often unaware of their abilities apart from the fact that they seem to be very charismatic (which is actually their Influence).

Threats are everywhere, and peace has been compromised on multiple levels. The kingdom is breaking as a result of the radicals. Suspicion and mistrust are everywhere. Nowhere is safe. And yet there are those who press on, and try to help-to slow the coming change. But, heh, unfortunately for them, those matters are in greater hands...

Act 1


Chapter 1: Cloak and Dagger

My dreams have been strange as of late. Quite bizarre. I can’t exactly describe them, because they are indescribable. They are random. Occasionally I see a distinct face, but it is quickly obscured. It only adds to my sense of unease stemming from the troubling events in the earthly world. King Aeriam III has recently made a decree that those who speak treason-namely, those who call themselves the Insurrectionists-should be put to death on sight. Anyone who speaks out, even, not just those directly involved, will be executed as well.

He wasn’t always like this. At one point, he was a popular king, having expanded Exeria’s territory significantly as the result of two wars, and put to an end of the tradition of death without trial. Of course, then came the Insurrection, led by that rebel Rauil. I don’t know where he sprang from, but he is quite persuasive, which is interesting, given that I know more about the matter then most of the people who blindly obey his objections and judgment. In my view, the more the Insurrection grows and discredits him, the closer he is to becoming the picture they paint of him.

Reinhart is my name. I’m a mercenary, and have actually been hired by the king personally to take out a high-ranking Insurrectionist-which I succeeded at, of course. I consider myself to be pretty normal-y’know, I’ve been wanting to settle down from the mercenary life for a while now, but not with such war looming. After all, with civil war almost definitely on the horizon, the business will be bigger than ever, right? Even so, I’ve been eager for the end of this needless conflict. Too much innocent death.

I sit up in the inn bed, finished contemplating the world outside. The room is nice enough, but certainly not my preference, I think as I stretch my arms. The bed is a bit stiff, I have a bit of a cramp, but I can’t afford to be picky. Judging from the position of the sun, I’ve slept in ‘til about noon. Per usual. I head downstairs, winking at a girl passing by, and get a drink from the bartender. I am the only one in the room apart from the bartender. I decide to strike up a conversation.

“So how’s business doing lately?”

“Not as well as I’d might like. What, with all of this superstition going around about sorcerers, and the business with the king...” I nod. Sorcerers my foot. Most likely a whole bunch of crackpot fools running around inspiring fear into the population.

“These are dark times, and I almost envy those who have turned to religion. At least they have some solace. I try humor as my solace, but I suppose that humor isn’t really a god.”

The bartender raises an eyebrow. “Where do you stand on the idea of the Overseer?”

“I’m incredulous, there’s no real proof.”

I finish my drink, and pay in full. I get up and stretch. This small, sleepy town of Reden Ford might be just what I need...a quiet distraction. I smile. The girls are cute, at any rate. Might be a nice place to settle down after this whole Rauil business is over...I hear voices from outside, shouting. I can’t tell whether it’s condemnation or exaltation. I stride outside to see armored people with an insignia of a six-fingered hand on their breastplates. The unspoken symbol of the Insurrection. The crowd is being cleared, and at the front of the Insurrectionists is a man in a hooded gray cloak, with the hand on the back of it. He makes his way to a makeshift podium, and throws back his hood.

He has a thin, pointed face, and long black hair that rests on his lower neck. His eyes are a cold shade of gray, and his smile is a thin slit across his face. The gray cloak identifies him as a member of Rauil’s inner council, and it shows-somehow, the mere image of him standing on the makeshift podium projects an image of authority and charisma. He clears his throat and waits for the crowd to quiet down. I try to examine him, try to pin down what kind of person he is, but I can only figure that he is quite aloof. He begins to speak.

“Good afternoon to you all. My name is Castor, and I ask only that you hear me out. You already know who we are, and I assure you, we have no intention of threatening or intimidating you into joining our cause. We wish only for you to listen to our side of the story, not the needless propaganda the king has so entitled you to.” That hits a mark. The king’s decrees-not necessarily propaganda like this Castor is making it out to be, always include something about the common people being entitled to equality, entitled to truth, etc. To say they are entitled by their king to believe propaganda is an interesting and effective display of wordplay.

“As you all know, several weeks ago, our Majesty King Aeriam the Third, descendant in a long line of great kings, decreed that all those who speak treason will be put to death.” He pauses, letting the audience realize that he is doing just that, and they begin to look around for the guards who have failed to show up to presumably execute him. He continues. “Is that your entitlement, your restriction for what you believe? Is that what this nation has fallen to?” Something is off about his speech. He sounds off, as if he had been told to deliver a speech about something he didn’t care about to a group of children, and was merely acting his apparent enthusiasm. I look around to see that most everyone is nodding and murmuring in assent, and I can only look at Castor. How is he doing this when it seems as though he doesn’t care?

“He has time after time denied us. Who started the Great War?” There is a growl of assent, and I am feeling queasy. Something is wrong. “Who led us into a state of decay where we are enemies of five nations, including our most powerful competitor, Miria?” A louder growl of assent. “Who has forbidden you from speaking your mind unless it is in line with his vision?” A yell erupts from the crow, and I compel myself to step forward. “You are the only one to forbid this crowd from speaking their mind!” I yell, and everyone stops.

It is quiet, and Castor looks at me strangely, I can’t pin down what emotion he’s conveying. “Do go on,” he says quietly mocking, “and tell us what you mean by that.” He motions for me to come closer to him, and I stride towards the podium, with varied looks at me. I stand across from Castor, and I am surprised to find that he is smiling, albeit like a snake more than anything. “Do go on, my friend. I’m sure we’d all like to hear your opinion.”

“You know what I think of your little speech, Castor? It’s strange, because to my ears it sounds as though you don’t honestly care, but even so you still have managed to turn an entire crowd to you nonetheless. Plus, you are warping the truth to suit your own ends, and I’m afraid that this crowd is not entitled to that.” For once there is a murmur of confusion, of dissent, and Castor’s mask slips momentarily. “You know what, Castor? You and the rest of your ‘Insurrectionists’ are just snakes.” He purses his lips in a frown, but his eyes are alight and gleeful, and he laughs.

Something hits me in the face and knocks me to the ground. Several men stand around me, and I quickly get up and unsheathe my sword, lunging for one man’s throat, but I am quickly parried. I slash wildly at another only to be kicked in the face. They punch kick, slash, and I’m gasping, panting, wildly trying to defend myself, and miserably failing. I can hear the frightened reaction of the audience, and I slash one man in the arm, causing him to scream in pain as blood drips, and people begin screaming. Castor steps back several paces, albeit lazily, still giving me the impression that he doesn’t really care either way.

A man hits me in the face with the hilt of his sword, then another kicks me in the stomach, and I fall over on the ground, where they continue punching and kicking me until I’m a quivering mess on the ground. I open my mouth and blood bubbles, and I lie there, groaning. I hear commotion, and the approach of the village guards (which probably could have been another point for Castor-they didn’t even realize anything was going on). Screams pierce the air, and I hear the guards call out and attack the Insurrectionists. Castor unsheathes his sword and I hear the clang of metal on metal.

The people are in full panic now, and are running away from the scene, and the guards are falling one by one. I need to do something, but what can I do? I try to stand up, my legs wobbling. In all of the confusion I am unnoticed, and now I see firsthand the meaningless horror that has come through the Insurrection. Rage fills me, and I feel something building inside me, and I scream. Fire bursts in every direction from me, scorching Insurrectionists, but not the guards or innocnets. What the hell? My mind is swimming, and I sink to the ground, panting and coughing up blood, and I black out as I see a shadowy figure approaching me.
 
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TatlTails

WANTS HER VMS BACK
Joined
Jan 14, 2013
Location
Ente Isla
Daaaaaaang, dude. Whadda prologue. Totally epic.

I agree with Luke. And yes, that was him with the yellow text, and yes, I sometimes let them talk as seperate beings. So yeah. Great job. ^^
 

*M i d n a*

Æsir Scribe
Joined
Aug 18, 2009
Location
*Midgard*
Gender
Entity
Wow, I must say I believe this is as strong as I have seen you write. A very good opening, my friend. I more so than enjoyed it, and not because you honored me with my character being the main guy, but because the opening was great. Really, this is the best I've read from you so far, so keep it up. :cool:
 

Doc

BoDoc Horseman
Joined
Nov 24, 2012
Gender
Male
Daaaaaaang, dude. Whadda prologue. Totally epic.

I agree with Luke. And yes, that was him with the yellow text, and yes, I sometimes let them talk as seperate beings. So yeah. Great job. ^^

Sometimes? :rolleyes:

Strong opening. I really enjoyed it. Keep up the good work.
 
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Myriadviper42

Fulcrum Agent
Joined
Feb 14, 2010
Location
Control
Chapter 2: One Man Army

The force was decimated. Literally decimated. Bloodied, limp bodies strung everywhere, and yet the last remaining soldier was still assured in his victory. The last man standing was actually confident that he was going to win against a force of 50 men. Of course, he thought, he had a few advantages against them. The man had long brown hair and some stubble, which combined with his deep brown eyes and confident air gave him an attractive look. He wore dark clothes, but did not wear any armor, which was odd considering the rest of his force was. He examined the fort he was attempting to capture, assessing the odds of 50 to 1, and concluded that he would win.

His name was Rauil. The forces attacking him had stopped and retreated back into the fort, and he idly wondered what their plan was. He’d chosen to attack the fort for a reason. Fort Sacron was notorious for its fighting skills and arrogance, but they had yet to be taken after 500 years. Rauil intended to take it for his own, more to inspire fear or confidence, depending on the individual. He appeared to examine his broadsword, but in reality thinking furiously at how the troops would react.

General Archus Tyron appeared at the top of the battlements, arms crossed and a broadsword at his side. “General Rauil!” he called out, his voice carrying across the distance between the solitary figure of Rauil and the battlements containing a total of 57 men. “Every single man except yourself have fallen to us. Parley is a necessity for your survival, and we can discuss this peacefully.”

Rauil’s laughter also carried across to Tyron, mocking and scorning him. “Oh, you’re killing me, Tyron. Parley is necessary for your survival, not mine.” He readied himself for the inevitable, infuriated command from the General to kill him, and he was not disappointed. “KILL HIM!” Bows twanged and arrows flew. Rauil twisted, ducked, dodged, and then, finally, a storm of men came out to meet him. He readied himself, controlling his battle lust, and thinking rationally as the men charged, expecting the fight to be over within seconds. Rauil would make sure it would not.

Moving almost like a blur, he started towards the closest man, grabbing him by the collar and slitting his throat with his broadsword. Blood sprayed, causing a slight panic, and he took his advantage to decapitate the next man, and dodge or block the array of attacks that followed. Now, the archers were useless, as they would only hit one of their own. Rauil stabbed one through the stomach and kicked him back into another one, then yanked one by the hair, pulling his throat towards his blade and ripping it through. He backflipped several feet, catching his breath.

More men came towards him, and power surged through him. He yelled, and a shockwave erupted, sending men flying back into each other. He smiled idly, and decided he’d be better off not wasting his time. Twenty-seven men remaining out of fifty-seven. As the troops resumed their assault, he blocked and counterattacked barely thinking about it, instead reflecting on his eventual plans. The toppling of King Aeriam. He smiled as he foresaw the day, and silently thanked the Overseer for giving him power over the others.

A headache pierced his head momentarily, and he stumbled. The enemies took their chance and followed up, trying desperately to kill him, foolishly, really, but he was momentarily overwhelmed. He then let out a yell, and the enemies closest to him started screaming in pain, holding their heads. He took the chance, and bloodily mutilated the men closest to him, not stopping, and ceaselessly slicing and hacking until there were no men left standing.

He walked towards the wall, and General Tyron gave a signal for all of the archers at the battlement to aim at Rauil. “Rauil! Stand down now. I doubt, even after that display you put on just there, could dodge fifty arrows at once.”

“Oh, I bet I could. But as you wish.”

He released the sword, making a clanging noise on the ground. Tyron smiled in triumph. Finally, Rauil was caught. After the King heard of his victory, he was sure to be rewarded for his loyalty. After all, Rauil was currently the number one enemy in the nation. Several men prepared to come down to detain him. Rauil smiled, and energy coursed through him. He didn’t need his sword to kill the rest of these idiots.

He raised his hand. “What is he doing? What the hell is he-” An explosion rocked the walls, crumbling and hurtling rocks. Screams everywhere, the sound of the chaos that had come from Rauil’s hand. Within seconds, the entire wall was decimated. Rauil would never admit this, but he wasn’t even entirely sure if that trick would have worked. But it did, and he knew that rumors would swirl and make it into a feat of astronomical proportions (as if it wasn’t already), and awe and fear would be spread throughout society.

Rauil walked towards the remains of the fort, examining the carnage, and smiled thinly at the result. He heard a small, pitiful groan from the rubble, and he moved towards the sound to find General Tyron’s bruised, bloodied, near-dead body buried underneath a fraction of the wall. “How...how the hell did you do that?”

“You can thank the Overseer for that. I am the most powerful Awakened in existence. You should be honored that I was the one who killed you.” A brief headache once again pierced his skull, but he shook it off.

“Awakened....you’re.....joking....”

Rauil leaned down and quickly stabbed up under his chin. He slid the sword out and back into his scabbard, and he once again smiled at his handiwork. His job was complete, and everything was in place.

“Sir.”

He turned to see Castor standing behind him. “Hello, Castor. What brings you here?”

“We found another Awakened, but I was unable to capture him. I was forced to flee the town, and no doubt that damned fool Morias will have sent one of his to recruit him-”

Rauil stamped on Castor’s foot, causing him to cry out, and glowered at him. “I told you that all of the Awakened belong to me! That foolish little group of Awakened can’t be allowed to grow any larger than it already has! How am I supposed to kill Aeriam if all of these meddlesome fools get in the way?”

Castor’s face did not change, a fact that interested Rauil. “Sir, might I suggest that you focus more on the campaign against Aeriam. Leave the Awakened to my people and I. Today was a great victory for us. Now leave the Awakened to us.” He vanished, and Rauil calmed down. He was aware that the Awakened posed a threat to him, and he appreciated Castor volunteering to take care of it. His grin widened. Things were looking good. He decided he would call together his inner council to discuss tactics soon. A well-thought out plan would be the best key to success. Of course, he thought idly, I now know the full extent of what I'm capable of...
 

Myriadviper42

Fulcrum Agent
Joined
Feb 14, 2010
Location
Control
...Well. That's our villian. Good to know.

Wow, he is evil.

I know, right? ;) Well, there's more to him than meets the eye.



Chapter 3: A Recruitment of Sorts (Part 1/2)

Slowly, my eyelids drift open. The candlelight drifts in and out of my vision, and I take a moment to assess my surroundings. I'm back at the inn. What the hell happened? I examine the bruises all over my body. It wasn't a dream, not unless dreams can brutally near-murder me. Would be interesting. But I'm not currently concerned about that. I slowly sit up, trying to ignore the pain in my-well, everywhere. I close my eyes, and flash back to my last few memories. The Insurrectionist rally, led by that viper Castor. They beat me up. I've no doubt in my mind that I could have faced any one of those goons one on one, but it seems that these Insurrectionists are quite the cowards.

Then, I remember my final moments, where I somehow managed to conjure fire and scorch a whole bunch of Insurrectionists. How the hell did I do that? I laugh. Not out of any humor, more because I'm hysterical right now. I flash back, and remember that someone had walked towards me as I was blacking out. No sign of that guy anywhere, but it looks like he saved me. Anyway, I muse, as I attempt to stand, it looks like I'm not going to settle down anytime soon...not until the Insurrectionists are dead or worse. Especially Castor.

I try to move and I nearly fall to the ground. Looks like I'm not quite ready to move....yet. I look around to see that my sword is leaning up against the wall, and spare clothes have been placed neatly on the dresser. I pick up a note from on top of the clothes. It says that when I feel up to it that I should head downstairs, where someone will be waiting to discuss "the undoubtedly strange events that have occurred to you today." I clench my fists, and sit back down on the bed. I'm not quite ready to go down. Whoever wants to meet me has to wait a bit longer.

I sit back and content myself with thinking about how irrational and idiotic the Insurrectionists are in their ideals, but after Castor's surprising sway of the crowd to his own opinions, that really doesn't seem accurate. I try to focus on his tone of voice that he had used. Why in hell would he sound so convincing to others when I could easily tell he didn't really care? And why's he still in Rauil's inner council if he doesn't really care about his goals? I realize that sitting here asking myself these questions is pointless, as I obviously don't know the answers. So it's time to ask someone who might know something. The guy who presumably saved me.

I cautiously attempt to stand, and I find that I am able to, just barely though. I slowly walk around the room a bit, my legs aching, but I don't fall like I did the last time. Always a good thing. I'm probably taking the whole fire incident pretty lightly in comparison, but that's always been a part of my nature. I don't really get up about things unless they're really, really serious. Usually, I try to find a rational explanation, but for now it seems there is none. I quickly glance outside to see that the sun is indeed setting. Just wanted to know how long I was out. I walk out of the room and head down the stairs, not sure what I would find, if there was anything or anyone to find in the bar. I reach the bottom of the stairs and head into the bar. One person is sitting at a table, he glances and nods at me, motioning to sit down across from him.

He looks like an interesting character. He's rather muscular, with blond hair and blue eyes that seem to see right into me, or through me. He wears a long-sleeved white shirt, tan pants, and brown boots, and his poise and the sword at his side suggests that he is a very capable fighter. I am pretty sure now that this is the man who saved me earlier today. If not, then I don't know why he'd be here. I sit down across from him. "I have a couple of questions for you, and I'm pretty sure you should be able to answer them. One, who are you? Two, how did you find me? Three, how did I conjure fire, and four, how did Castor keep his hold over the crowd?"

"Whoah whoah whoah, one at a time there." He holds his hands up as if to calm me, and continues. "We have a lot of time, so you don't have to rush it out all at once. I'm happy to see you're willing to get right down to business, but still, could you ask me the first question again?" He smiles, and I can see that it is genuine.

"All right then, first question was 'Who are you?'"

"My name is Henry, and I don't do much, I'm only a member of a secret society who is trying to stop the collapse of everything as we know it."

"What?"

"Ok, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but you get my meaning. We are important, and we saved you, and my name is Henry. That cover your first question?"

"No not real-"

"Moving on! Your second question, I believe it was....how did we find you, correct?"

This guy is certainly interesting, if not a bit irritating. Perhaps if we were friends I would find his actions more joking, not irritating, but that is besides the point. "Yes, yes it is."

"In that case, we used our super special magic powers to locate your position."

"What?!"

He holds his hand up to his mouth and hmmmns. "Wait, no, that's a lie."

"I thought so."

"We used our super special powers to find your general location! When you stood up to Castor that's when we confirmed that you are the one we've been looking for. WHICH leads into your final two questions. Ask me something now. Do you believe in the legends of the Overseer?"

What is it with people and the Overseer lately? The legends of the Dreaming God are just that-legends. No real evidence whatsoever. And truthfully, I think the very idea of our whole world being a dream is absurd. I don't see why people would find solace in that. "No, I really don't believe in the Overseer or the belief that this world is a dream. And I don't see why anyone would."

He smiles. "Reality is indeed a dream. And we are all figments of it. You say there is no tangible proof, but that proof, for you, at least, occurred just before noon today."

I pale. 'What....what do you mean?"

"A less well-known part of the mythos surrounding the Overseer is that there are those who are capable of manipulating the dream to some extent. They are known as Awakened. Common people see it as magic....like say, conjuring fire." He smiles, knowing he's made his point. "Unless, of course, you think you just know magic. I shake my head. "No, no I don't. But you can't expect me to believe this, can you?" He raises an eyebrow. "I just told you, didn't I?"

"And for your final question, the answer is that Rauil and his inner council are all Awakened, and Awakened have the power to Influence other people in the dream." Realization dawns on me.

"So...he managed to sway the crowd to his side because he was Awakened?" He nods, smiling now that I've got the idea. "And you were unable to be held under his sway because you yourself are Awakened." I start to protest, and then realize that he is right. I am what he calls Awakened. That is why I was able to conjure fire. That is how Castor was able to bend the crowd to his will until I stood up to him.

"I see. Now what?"

"Well....if you'd like...you could join us. We're a group of Awakened whose goals...vary, but currently we're trying to stop Rauil from toppling the king. Because Rauil is an Awakened too." I nod, accepting the fact, but I realize I can't join. I'm a mercenary, and I generally don't form close bonds with people, not in a very long time. I realize that despite all the revelations that Henry has offered me, I cannot accept. Not until I know more about this society.

"I'm sorry. I can't join...not yet."

"Oh. It's perfectly all right. I only half expected you'd say yes anyway. But it doesn't mean we can't help you out some, you know?" He motions to the bartender. "Hey! Two drinks over here!" The bartender hurries over with two drinks, and places one at my spot and another at Henry's. I examine it suspiciously, and Henry catches me looking. "Oh, it's not drugged. I'll show you." He takes my drink and takes a huge gulp from it, and then does the same with his own drink. I begin drinking mine, and he smiles.

"However, what do you mean, not yet?"

"I need to know more about your "society" or whatever it is before I join. And if I find that it doesn't...suit me, you will never hear from me again."

He sighs. "We're led by our leader Morias. Our goal is to deal with Awakened-related happenings in the world, and Rauil counts as that. A lot of Awakened are actually unaware of their powers-they just think they're very persuasive. So we take care of that. Our current goal is to destroy the Insurrection, which is completely dominated by Rauil and his council's basic mind control. So what do you think?"

I mull it over for a while, and we discuss, him giving me the pros and cons, I giving my opinions. All through it I give the vibe that I don't really want to, but in the end I finally sigh, and say, "All right. I'll join." He looks shocked, and he starts shuffling nervously. "That's...great...."

"What? What is it?"

He shuffles uncomfortably, and then looks me in the eye. "Ummmm....about your drink....I did drug it....only about 15% of new recruits come willingly, and-"

"YOU DID WHAT?!!!!!!"

The bartender jumps in panic, causing him to spill his drink and he mops it up, cursing under his breath and staring at us. Now that I think about it, I'm starting to feel rather drowsy, and...I try to snap out of it and I shoot the most venomous look I can muster at him. He backs away sheepishly, and mutters "...sorry," under his breath, and I'm ready to reach over the table and strangle him. I succeed in the reaching over the table part, but my vision blurs and my head falls against the table and I lose consciousness for the second time today.

Once I wake up, I just might kill him.

*****
 

TatlTails

WANTS HER VMS BACK
Joined
Jan 14, 2013
Location
Ente Isla
:lol: Best. Ending. Ever! And I was sadly expecting Henry to be Luke when I first read his description. Mleh, curse my high expectations. Great job, I love this story!
 

*M i d n a*

Æsir Scribe
Joined
Aug 18, 2009
Location
*Midgard*
Gender
Entity
That damned Damera! :P :lol: Anyway, good update to your tale, Vipee. Now let's see if Reinhart will join this strange group.
 

Doc

BoDoc Horseman
Joined
Nov 24, 2012
Gender
Male
Awesome story! That is a great way to end the chapter. I eagerly wait for more.
 

Myriadviper42

Fulcrum Agent
Joined
Feb 14, 2010
Location
Control
Here we are. It was actually rather hard to get the characterization of Luke right...hope you like it Tatl. ;) Oh, and Rainy, your character will appear soon, just so you know, and will have a pretty important role.


Chapter 3: A Recruitment Of Sorts (Part 2/2)

My eyes slowly drift open...again. Deja vu at its finest, I suppose. The little...when I get a hold of him I might kill him. Honestly! He DRUGS me after telling me that he wouldn't...what a liar. I examine my surroundings. It's a nice room, with a nice bed, very comfy but not really all that fancy. That's fine. I've never really cared much for fancy. The walls are a maroon color, with candles placed around the area, and a note once again in the room, but this time on a table with a quill and some parchment. The note is in the same handwriting as the last note, so I know it's from Henry.

Sorry about that. Like I said, only 15% of new recruits come willingly, so I did what was expected. My mistake. I hope you'll forgive me sometime. Luke should be coming by once you wake up to show you around the place. Assuming you still want to hang around here, of course. I set the note down, and sit back down upon the bed. This "Luke" doesn't appear to be here yet, so I decide just to wait for him until he arrives. So far, I don't know what to expect from this group of "Awakened." Henry was rather humorous/annoying, and I wonder whether Luke is similar or maybe a bit more serious.

After about ten minutes of nothing, the door opens. The guy who's apparently "Luke" enters. He has long blond hair-like Henry-but that's where the similarities end. He has a slight slouch, he's less muscular, and his eyes look rather dopey. He has a katana at his side, but he doesn't really look intimidating. The only word I can think of is....floppy. He looks over me, glancing all around me, he looks curious, but he doesn't say anything, just creepily examining me. I back away a bit. "Ummmm....hi?"

He smiles, and grabs a strand of my hair. "Your hair dude...it's like a skunk. Skunks are pretty bad-smelling..." Huh? Ohhhhhhh, one half of my hair is white while the other half is black. That must be what he's getting on about. "Errrrmmmm....no, my hair's not a skunk. My name's Reinhart, and you're....Luke?"

He grins. "Yep! Rainheart is a cool name. So you're joining us? 'Cause the last guy we tried to recruit tried to escape from us."

"I can't imagine why."

"I know, right? Anyway, he tried to swim across the ocean and we managed to save him. The poor dude thought we were all crazy, and he nearly died drowning. We teleported him home after that."

Ok. These people are bizarre. "Umm...did you drug him too?"

"Yep! Well, actually, not me. Henry did that. He always drugs new recruits. I mean, I was sent to recruit a new recruit wait a second that didn't come out rightand I tried to drug him...but I grabbed the wrong mug."

.....yay. I'm officially trapped with a bunch of lunatics. Well, maybe those two are the only ones who are slightly out of their minds. Perhaps this place could be good...."Ummmm...weren't you going to show me around the place?" He nods and gives me his bizarre grin again. "Yep! Um, please don't try to run away. It could be hazardous to your health." What the hell does that mean? Like I was going to try to run away. He walks out the door and I follow him, still unsure of what I'm doing here.

We walk through a hallway, people crossing paths up and down. A lot of talking. I follow him, trying not to be distracted by all the people around us and keep my focus on this goofy figure in front of me. He turns right and I follow. It's quieter here, and the building appears older. "This is the hall of the Ancients. We're on an island, and the Ancients somehow tap into the mind of the Overseer and see events going on elsewhere in the world."

"So they're like prophets?"

"What are prophets?"

"Never mind. Continue." He heads to the right and I follow. We pass through a library, which he tries to stop to explain, but I assure him I know what a library is. We continue and we reach a room with people training with swords, bows, axes, and all that good stuff. I see Henry decapitate a training dummy and then look at me. Luke continues, "This is the training room. Dudes-"

"I think I know, thank you."

We continue on. We reach a locked door and he scratches his head. "Oh riiiiiiggggghhhhhttttt, this is where high-class Awakened use teleportation spells to send people out on missions into the real world. Most of the time this is locked." We turn around and I don't have any idea whether he knows where he's going, but I can only follow him. I'm still most likely going to end up joining, because despite the odd characters, I need help to stop the Insurrection. Or maybe, they need my help.

We backtrack and then we continue on. We pass the lunch hall, the armory, the barracks, and finally we head to the meeting hall. We head inside to see three people arguing with one another. Two females and one male. The guy has long black hair and a full beard, with an aura of authority that makes me think that this is Morias, the leader of this group. Do they have a name? The girl closer to me has green eyes wavy brown hair that reaches her shoulders, and is slightly skinny. The other girl has elbow-length auburn hair, brown eyes, and seems more fit. They're arguing about something, but they stop when they realize we're here. The black-haired man walks over towards me.

"So you're the new recruit. Nice to meet you, Reinhart."

"How do you know my name?"

"Henry found out for me."

"I was going to come willingly, you know. Then Henry drugged me."

He sighs, shaking his head. "He always does that. It's a bit like a tradition for him. But no matter. You're here, so what do you want to do? If you want to go back to your life it's perfectly understandable. We do have some odd fellows around here." He glances at Luke, who apparently is easily distracted and is trying and failing to kill a fly. I laugh. "I know. But I would like to stay. After all, your goals are currently to destroy the Insurrection, and that's my goal too."

He smiles. "It's settled then. It's almost lunchtime now, so it'll be a good chance to introduce you. After lunch you'll begin training for how to use your gifts. Henry said you used fire. Fire is the most basic form of magic, so you've still got a ways to go."

I nod. "One more thing. Can you tell me all you know about the Overseer?"

"Very well. I shall tell you all we know according to the ancient texts. Apparently, in the beginning, the Overseer crafted a dream world, inhabited by only a few, a very simple dream. The longer he slept, the more complex the dream became. More "people" came into the world, and civilizations inside the dream grew. After a while, the five nations on this continent-Exeria, Miria, Zarum, Etaq, and Ralum were formed, which still exist to this day. The Overseer somehow manages to juggle this all in his head, but he is after all a god, right? So anyway, after a while, people start realizing that there are those who are capable of manipulating the dream, but you already know about that. No one knows why Awakened exist, but-"

"There are several theories, the most popular of which is that the Awakened are more prominent in the Overseer's sight," the brown-haired girl interrupts, which earns her a glare from Morias. "Yes, that is a popular theory, Jeyne, but there is no proof. As I was saying, these Awakened exist, right? So, about five generations ago, a man seeked out other Awakened and formed the building you're standing in today. He formed the group for the purposes of worldly problems caused by Awakened. Because, some Awakened would use their power for their own gain. And, there's the added factor of the Overseer. If he were to stir, to eventually awaken, our world would be entirely lost."

I stand there speechless. He smiles, glad to see he made his point. "So anyway, chop chop! I must be going now." He leaves, and the girl named Jeyne walks up to me. "Don't worry about him. He's a nice enough guy-we all are really....perhaps some of them a bit too nice." We both glance back at Luke, who is still trying to kill the fly.

"Emmm, yeah. Nice to meet you, and nice to see someone here is sane." She laughs, and steps back. "And this is Lia." She smiles warmly and shakes my hand. "Nice to meet you. Henry's actually embarrassed for once, which is saying something. Honestly though, he was right-only 15% of recruits come willingly. So I guess he was just used to it."

"So if only 15% of recruits come willingly, how do you get them to stay?" They both laugh, and Jeyne answers, "Generally, once they understand that the fate of the world could be in their hands they either jump at the opportunity or pee themselves. But in the end, most of them stay because they can't really go back into regular society without thinking about all of the revelations we gave them." Luke joins us, apparently having killed the fly.

Lia starts talking. "We should get to lunch. We usually eat with Henry and Luke, and you're definitely welcome to join us." She smiles and the two of them leave, leaving Luke and I in the room. "How was your clash with the evil demonic fly?" I ask.

"It was good."

.....well that's something. "Hey, let's go to lunch. It'll be nice getting to know some people."

He nods and grins again. "Let's do that. Hey, while we're at it, would you like to-"

"No."

"But you don't even know what I was going to-"

"No!"

"But-"

"NO!"

We walk back to the lunch hall, I being in a bit of an annoyed mood. After we get out food, Jeyne spots us and waves us over to their table. Henry meets my eyes and then looks sheepishly down. I sit down across from Lia and Luke takes the spot next to me. I begin to eat, and Jeyne and Henry start to talk about the struggle against the Insurrection, most of it not being good news.

"Did you hear about Fort Sacron? Rumor has it that Rauil destroyed the place singlehandedly," Jeyne says.

"Rumors can get blown out of proportion. You know that, Jeyne," Henry replies.

"Well, he is Awakened, so anything's possible."

"No Awakened is that powerful. At least, I don't think." I decide to chime in.

"Well, you never know, do you? I suppose you could just always drug him?"

He slams his hands against the table. "I am sorry for that Reinhart. Ok? I am sorry that I knocked you out when it didn't really matter either way. Ok?"

Jeyne laughs, and then turns to me. "Don't worry about it. Henry's been around the longest out of all of us, and he drugged all of us, and we were angry with him too for a time." She leans over and whispers in my ear, "Actually, when he was 'recruiting' me I realized what he was up to and switched the mugs while he wasn't looking." I snort, and Henry glares at Jeyne, as if he knows exactly what she's talking about.

"Yeah, Rainheart," Luke says absentmindedly, patting his hair, "We all got drugged. I mean, I think Henry gave me a drug so powerful it knocked me out twelve hours longer than the rest of us."

"Errmmm, no, Luke, you just fell asleep."

We all start cracking up and people are getting up. Apparently, lunch break is over. I smile and think that this isn't that bad after all. Perhaps this could even be fun. I start to grin, and I think back to my nomadic existence as a mercenary. Compared to the close companionship I see here, it's frankly very lonely. I walk down the halls to my first lesson, grinning.

Maybe I've finally found a home.
 

TatlTails

WANTS HER VMS BACK
Joined
Jan 14, 2013
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:lol: OH. MY. GLOB. HE IS PERFECT. LUKE IS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFULLY WONDERFUL! The only thing that may be off is a few of the 'big words' he used, but this is medieval times and stuff, so that's easily forgiven. But dude, from the introduction, to the fly, to just everything! You did wonderfully. I couldn't stop laughing pretty much the whole time! I'm going back to read it again!
 

*M i d n a*

Æsir Scribe
Joined
Aug 18, 2009
Location
*Midgard*
Gender
Entity
No! But... No! Lolz :lol:

Good update, Myriad. I think Reinhart is starting to feel comfortable with the members of the group. Let's see what else happens. :D
 

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