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Thread: All In the Name of Progress

  1. #1

    Default All In the Name of Progress

    21AR
    Cane loved experimenting. As a skilled alchemist, he often returned to Tazoon to trade secrets with his prior teachers and now colleagues.

    Today, he was afraid for his life. He was only halfway up the cliff in Char that stood between him and his goal and the fear of heights was not helping. He wasn't so sure about this rope either.

    Step. Pull.
    Step. Pull.
    Step. Pull.

    Twice he thought of going back down, but this component didn't grow anywhere else.

    He had to stop twice and dust off his hands in the bag he brought with him. The day was hot, even for the region and his own sweat kept making it more difficult.

    It was a while before he reached the top. It took him a further 20 minutes of searching among the obsidian before he found what he was looking for near the base of another cliff.

    Feeling very glad that he did not have to climb any further up, he knelt beside the tiny dried out yellow plant and took out a small knife. This had to be done properly as he couldn't afford taking another day to look for another one.

    Digging carefully in the dirt, he exposed the roots of the plant and used the knife to pry it gently up. It had more root than he thought it did, so it took a bit more digging.

    Good. More root means more tries out of one plant.

    Except for some strange reason, he couldn't see what he was doing anymore. Had the sun gone down and he didn't notice? He turned around to find a large red dragon blocking his sunlight. The dragon screamed at him, or at least that's what he thought it was doing.

    It was all hisses and growls to him. After it had spoken in Kier Chet, Cane understood the common that came next,

    "FOOLISH NAKA!" The dragon's voice thundered, "Get out of my territory!" The dragon then stood up on it's hind legs and swatted Cane sideways where he flew several yards to be stopped by the hard, unyielding rock. He heard something crack before he passed out.

    When Cane woke again, his head was fuzzy. He felt dizzy and was sure that dragon had knocked a few memories out of his head he was hit so hard. He reached to his belt to find most of the potion bottles he made earlier were broken.

    One wasn't broken so he quickly drank it and his head cleared. He stood up slowly, trying to remember where he was.

    An unknown rage filled him when he did collect his thoughts.

    "That stupid dragon!" He yelled, "How dare it attack me!"

    Without quite knowing why or what he was doing, he ran over to the herb and yanked it out, stuffing it in his pocket. His fear of heights seemingly forgotten, he rappelled quickly down the cliff and he started running.

    "Stupid dragon!" He yelled again.

    He didn't really know where he was going, he was just angry. So he kept running.

    "He will pay!"

    Indeed he will A voice in his head answered him.

    Cane nearly stopped running, but was curious as to what was invading his mind. Perhaps the heat was getting to him.

    Who are you? Cane asked.

    We have a common enemy. I have a gift for you. Come.

    Cane quickened his pace slightly, now eager to find this voice.

    He found himself at the base of a ruined building just in the northern border of the Western Deadlands.

    Cautiously going in, he found Alchemical equipment and more components than was in the halls of Tazoon's school. Eagerness filled him to begin work again, then that same rage that had filled him earlier.

    It was then that he realized that some of his feelings weren't his. He was in the Eastern Deadlands, far from where he had started. He had also not eaten or rested that entire time.

    The dragon had killed him. The dragon swatted him into a rock which crushed his ribs, knocked him unconscious and left him to drown when the blood filled his lungs.

    Well, he thought bitterly, At least that answers the question everyone in Istaria asks themselves at one point or another.

    Bitterness, this time his own and a deep resentment at not being gifted.

    Gift. Yes. This time the voice sounded much darker and a lot stronger than when it pulled him here. My gift to you. You get to resume the work you started in life. Your notes, all your equipment is here.

    A brief flash of a memory filled his head, not his, but someone else's. One of his own house in Harro being razed, all the equipment being stolen then burnt to the ground.

    Cane smiled. He was part of something much bigger now. He could feel where other Withered Aegis were. Could see their memories. Yes, this is definitely something bigger.

    A skeleton warrior appeared near the entrance, waiting for him.

    "Go," he commanded it, "Bring me back a few soul shards. We will see what they do"

    This was perfect. He didn't need to eat or rest. All he needed to do was what he liked to do. Not bad at all.

    The cold, dark voice in his head laughed softly.

    23AR
    Test XIX.
    They brought me back one of them half a season ago.

    A gifted dragon.

    Extremely convenient as long as the Soul Anchor spell is kept in place. A little annoying having to wait for it to come back whenever it dies of hunger, but it's all in the name of progress.

    I think the last potion worked very well. I just have to find a way to make it's effects permanent.

    The scrawled notes were illegible 'lest they were found by ones of the cause he no longer served. He could read them easily though and that's what was important.

    24AR
    I have done it!

    With soul shards, blighted orbs, mithril powder *and* purified essence, (make sure not to use any other type), I have done it!

    An alteration of the Ganesh has provided me with a slash resistant potion. Combined with the soul shards, the become permanent.

    "Like food." He cackled as if he just made a great joke.

    Revenge.

    This time the thoughts and feelings were all his. He had not felt the commanding voice for a while. Perhaps he had convinced it that he could be trusted to work on his own.

    Whether it was that or the fact that it was busy watching over someone else, he did not care.

    The once-human had discarded his name long ago. He didn't need it.
    It is not our way to call each other by a name. We are so much higher than that. We can call each other by a thought. What need have we of names?

    Enough of this potion was made to feed a few legions, but in the grand scheme of things, it was not much. There was enough potion to take down Dralk at least and he wanted to be the first to see.


    I need more root.
    He thought casually in case the voice was there.

    The agent of the Withered Aegis downed a small draught of his own formula and commanded a select of the surrounding allys to do the same. Of course, most that he called were still in the plane of Blight, others in the Eastern Deadlands, so it would take them a while to get to Istaria.

    With the "grand plan" underway, he had some time to kill.

    Time to find more root. Time to find the red dragon that is the object of this hate and kill it.

    Char was larger than he remembered. When he got there, he was well aware of needing to make more potion for the coming hoards he had summoned. Even as an agent of the Withered Aegis, he still had some shred of self. And he was bored of being cooped up in that lab.

    It was not long before he heard a growl nearby. Moving near the sound at a relaxed, confident pace, he was a bit surprised to see the same red dragon.

    "Imagine," he taunted it with a voice that cracked from disuse and burbled every so often, "And here I thought I would have to look all over Char for you. What are you, a guard?"

    The dragon growled, charged him and swatted at him, only to produce small scratches on the blight creature in front of him.

    The dragon looked dumbfounded and backed away a few steps. a hiss behind it told them both that there was a hatchling behind it, perhaps not wanting to get stepped on.

    "Perfect." Cane gloated. "I so hope it's yours."

    The dragon crouched into a pouncing position and gave a sideways grin at the man that stood before him.

    "It is." The dragon rumbled and leapt into the air. It flapped it's giant wings forwards and landed a few feet behind where it was standing.

    "Oh good," Cane mused. "It gets to go first?"

    Except it wasn't a hatchling at all, it was a short sslisk that could not have been more than a few dozen seasons old. It's eyes were closed and it was clutching a staff, whispering to itself.

    Cane moved forward a few steps, ready to chop this short creature to bits when the sslisk's eyes snapped open and a powerful bolt shot towards him

    Well, that was unexpected.Cane thought as his body dissolved when the Ethereal Paroxysm spell and the dragon's fire breath hit him at the same time.

    Well, that was unexpected. The voice thought as it felt Cane's essence recycled into the realm of blight. No matter. I know where I can stick the rest...

    (Spurned from the many complaints about these creatures that are immune to slash damage, I see it as a good thing really. Means our enemies are getting smarter We can get smarter too. Sorry for any errors in actual lore or mechanics, but it was just a boredom post, so hopefully it's okay. I have not yet been to Blight, so I have no idea on actual mob names and so fourth.)
    [SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]

  2. #2
    Member Zexoin's Avatar
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    Default Re: All In the Name of Progress

    Great story !

  3. #3

    Default Re: All In the Name of Progress

    Ah, what a nice story...
    [SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]

  4. #4
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    Default Re: All In the Name of Progress

    I like it. To the point, yet "light hearted" and not dramatically deep in lore like an embalmed book.
    Vahrokh Vain - Ancient dragon level 100 adv 100 craft 34M of untainted, fireworks and other crap free hoard.
    Isarion - Reaver Healer Spiritist, many craft classes.

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