Darmok | Sun 09-Feb-03 01:05 PM |
Member since 04th Mar 2003
0 posts
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#15065, "My role"
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"Enough!" Slamming his hand down on the table the king brought immediate silence to the bickering elves. "Enough of this useless accusing, blaming and complaining. Are we duergar or drow to be giving short sight to the problem? To be talking as any one of us would have it this way if we could choose? No! I have heard enough and now we must decide what to do about it." Sitting back down again the King exhaled deeply, and for a moment his 1,130 years showed on his face, the lines which so rarely appear on true elves showing deep and etched, a mark of the troubled times.
"Majesty, as we all know, for years so-called adventurers of foreign lands in Thera have come to hone their skills by killing our people, our merchants, even my own guardsmen who are charged with protecting our fair Darsylon. For years we have seen our people slaughtered and our trade dry up as we fail to stop wave after wave of these dark brutes. But our bickering here discussing who did what and when gets us nowhere as you rightly say, and so I say we must turn now to a new path. All of our efforts have been fruitless. We must, I say, think outside of all normal patterns and determine some new path, a completely new idea. Only this will bring safety and peace back to our lands." Sitting down, the Captain of the Guards kept his back straight and his eyes steely as he challenged each of the wise councillors around the table to dispute his words. None did.
Moments go by. Longer than any human or felar, arial or dwarf would feel comfortable with, but barely considered long by elf standards. Finally, the only elf older than the king, the high wizard Vorilotirantharas rose from his chair, shaking off the hands of the pages behind him. "I'm not so old I can't lift myself from my chair!" he was heard to mumble. Fixing his bright eyes on each of the elves around the table he spoke quietly but clearly: "There is a way." Pausing, not to create greater interest but instead as though he gave one last, final consideration to the plan he was about to propose, the mage continued. "There is a way. We have discovered magic which will make our warriors more than mere fighters, more than mere defenders. Truly, more than mere mortals. With elves such as those that the magic will create, our people would be able to rest safely in their homes, and once again the trade of all lands would find a home here in our Grand Marketplace." One final pause, then, bowing his head. Looking up he finishes. "But there is a price. A terrible price. To work, the magic must be begun within hours of birth. The baby must be taken from the mother and the rituals must begin. Each day the ritual must be continued, each day and without falter. No life outside of the magical infusions and the martial training can be had. They will be cut off, abandoned, considered dead. They must have no contact with anyone other than their instructors and those of the magical arts who tend the spells."
A moment to let this horrible fate sink in to the listeners.
"There is more. The magic works, in part, by unleashing inner rage, inner animosity which is alien to most of our kind. These soldiers will become what other elves abhor. They will be more akin to the duerg or drow we fight than to other elves. And, finally, they will be very difficult to control. Each of them will be a force beyond anything you have seen before, anything you have heard of before. It will be near impossible to keep them from doing as they wish, and if they one day wish to turn upon us, we would be hard pressed to stop them." Lowering himself into his chair, the sorcerer nodded to himself, as though assuring himself he did the right thing in offering this option.
"The question then," said the King, "is what can we do to ensure these enhanced warriors maintain enough of our elvish mind, enough of the integrity we need, to keep them on our side once they are free to act on their own?"
"I believe I know a way, my King." From the back of the room comes a voice seldom heard in these meetings. It is the voice of an old priest, one in robes worn only by one elf at a time. The robes of the former Lord of Honor, Cador. "My Lord may be gone from these realms, but his teachings remain. Here is my suggestion, my Lords. With each daily ritual of magic, with each lesson on how to swing a sword, with each instruction of tactics and strategy, instill in these soon to be powerful fighters the virtue of Honor. Make each breath they take a breath of Honor. Make Honor their food, their drink, their soul. Then, and only then, will you be sure that the powers and strengths you give them will forever remain in service to the good of Darsylon and it's people. Then we will know that these supreme fighters will fight for us, not against us." Turning, the old priest exited the chamber, his work done. Looking around the table, the King stared each person in the eyes, looking for agreement or dissent. Slowly but surely he received a nod from each and every person sitting at the table. Looking over to the wizard then, he said quietly, "So let it be done."
The babies were taken. Each had been given a foreign name, a non-elvish name, to set them apart from those they would one day protect. No family or social ties would be allowed to cloud the minds of the tools they were to become. Each was told they were orphaned, and each was told their parents had died from raiders and pillagers coming into Darsylon. Thus was a life of honor and service started with a lie.
One hundred years pass. The wizardry and magical rituals had been done and the schooling, both in martial ability and in a life of honor, has been completed. All that remains is the final binding, the day of graduation as the young men and women had come to call it. With the final spell, the fighters would unlock the special gifts that had been growing in them, the gifts which until now had only been useable when a mage was present to turn them on, so to speak. Now, those powers would become a permanent and always present part of each. It was the culmination of their lives to date.
Standing among his fellows, Darmok felt excitement, energy and, truth be told, some nervousness. Not nervous that he would fail to act as he should or that he would not live up to the high standards he had been drilled with, but rather nervousness that he would no longer be surrounded by the others. Soon he would be alone among other elves, a people he belonged to in name, but whom he had never seen, never walked among, never spoken to. But he would not only do so, he would thrive. This he promised himself. And he would protect them, and keep his people safe. No enemy would come again and ravage _his_ lands.
The High Wizard took his place, his hands holding the staff and scroll which together with his words formed the last part of the spell, the culmination of magicwork of a hundred years. Raising his arms above his head, brandishing the staff, he began the words. As his voice uttered the first sentence, the doors to the chamber burst open and in flowed a band of ugly, vile brutes. Warriors, deathmagi of the necromancer guild and fighter magi of the antipaladin guild stormed into the room. With the last spell still unspoken, Darmok and his fellows were excellently trained men and women, but of no special power or quickness. Their reflexes were still mortal. Turning, they sought to fight, unarmed, the marauders. But before any of them could engage, a bow was lifted, an arrow was shot, and a small groan was heard. Collapsing, the final spell unspoken, the High Wizard looked down at the arrow piercing his chest. With a look of horrible sadness in his eyes, he closed his eyes, and died. A terrible fight ensued and most of Darmok's comrades were slain, but in the end they killed each and every one of the invaders. But it was too late. With the High Wizard went the only elf who knew the final words. The spell, now, could never be complete.
Ten years pass. Darmok and the few other survivors have been living in the barracks with other guards. They know nothing of daily elfin life, and they are shunned by all normal elves. Without the final spell, their powers remain forever gone, but the rage inside them, the anger and the war they seek is still a part of them. But they are powerless to fulfill the call. It is only the Honor which was equally bred in them which keeps them going every day, every hour, working to defend their lands as simple regular guards, but without the simple comforts of family, friends, or any belonging at all. Rather than continue to live in this world of pain and lonliness two of the surviving experiments killed themselves. Darmok, feeling instead he had a different path, became surer and surer that it had been the poor wisdom of the magi that led to this horrible fate. He had not even had a choice! Taken as a babe he was molded by their magic. He understood the need, and could accept the idea of sacrifice of one for a greater good. But the one who sacrifices should make the choice, not have it made for him! And, worse still, to have the sacrifice made, and then not be able to fulfill it because the magi could not do as they said they would do, that was the final straw. With a heavy heart he resolved to prevent this from occurring in the future. Sad though he would be when he faces goodly beings, he would fight the greater battle, that against all magic, to ensure that the poor wisdom of mortals - even the wisest, most long lived ones, the elves - did not again betray those who suffer such fates. Leaving Darsylon, for the first time, he entered the wider lands of thera. And began his search for the village of warriors who shared his desire to rid all thera of magic and preserve it for the Gods. He began his search for the Battleragers. From them he might learn new tactics even his great teachers had not known. And to them he would bring the honor, the courage and the integrity many claim they lack. We shall see....
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(DEL) Darmok the Weaponsmaster, Bloodoath, Imperial
[View all] , Death_Angel, Fri 07-Feb-03 08:47 PM
*sigh*,
Darmok,
15-Feb-03 05:50 PM, #36
Well, it was quite a ride,
Darmok,
09-Feb-03 11:29 AM, #5
Damn mongeese!,
ANith (Guest),
09-Feb-03 11:37 AM, #7
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Sassmi (Guest),
09-Feb-03 11:53 AM, #8
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Kalmah (Guest),
18-Feb-03 01:45 AM, #38
My role,
Darmok,
09-Feb-03 01:05 PM #9
Hey,
Mernon,
09-Feb-03 01:52 PM, #10
You were great,
Guenrayn (Guest),
09-Feb-03 03:46 PM, #11
Disappointing *and* well done,
Vynmylak,
09-Feb-03 05:28 PM, #12
Thanks,
Darmok,
09-Feb-03 05:57 PM, #13
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Taithin,
09-Feb-03 08:35 PM, #14
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Darmok,
10-Feb-03 01:17 AM, #15
*bleh*,
Braoldan (Guest),
10-Feb-03 02:09 PM, #16
RE: *bleh*,
Darmok,
11-Feb-03 08:52 PM, #28
Ugh, ya forgot me.,
Gre (Guest),
10-Feb-03 04:04 PM, #17
Chalk it up to being tired.,
Darmok,
10-Feb-03 06:43 PM, #20
Good character,
Hutto,
10-Feb-03 04:13 PM, #18
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Xandrya,
10-Feb-03 06:09 PM, #19
Well done!,
Kastellyn,
10-Feb-03 08:43 PM, #21
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Some ST Nerd (Guest),
11-Feb-03 10:42 AM, #22
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
ORB,
11-Feb-03 03:35 PM, #23
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Valguarnera,
11-Feb-03 03:47 PM, #24
And Kinison is the name of a Ranger in Suikoden II,
Araen,
11-Feb-03 04:23 PM, #25
RE: And Kinison is the name of a Ranger in Suikoden II,
Quislet,
11-Feb-03 04:31 PM, #26
RE: And Kinison is the name of a Ranger in Suikoden II,
Nivek,
14-Feb-03 08:33 PM, #35
Suikoden II kicked ass.,
Die Billard,
11-Feb-03 07:21 PM, #27
Yup!,
Adam (Guest),
16-Feb-03 09:12 AM, #37
Comments/Concerns.,
Imm In Question (Guest),
11-Feb-03 09:53 PM, #29
RE: Comments/Concerns.,
Darmok,
11-Feb-03 10:51 PM, #30
No, I don't have an email.,
The Imm. (Guest),
12-Feb-03 11:18 AM, #31
My Email,
Darmok,
13-Feb-03 02:29 AM, #33
Questions...,
Involved one (Guest),
26-Feb-03 07:47 PM, #39
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Punblinpo (Guest),
12-Feb-03 04:06 PM, #32
RE: Well, it was quite a ride,
Darmok,
13-Feb-03 08:53 PM, #34
just have to say...,
Quid (Guest),
08-Feb-03 06:07 PM, #4
RE: (DEL) Darmok the Weaponsmaster, Bloodoath, Imperia...,
Karel,
07-Feb-03 10:59 PM, #3
RE: (DEL) Darmok the Weaponsmaster, Bloodoath, Imperia...,
Vortigern (Guest),
07-Feb-03 09:29 PM, #2
I just have one question.,
Lachis (Guest),
07-Feb-03 09:02 PM, #1
RE: I just have one question.,
Darmok,
09-Feb-03 11:36 AM, #6
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