The Roles We Play

[Kael]

Once long ago, so long in fact that only the ancients cared to remember and record, the land of Vorandia was rent into peices by the furies of war. I am the last of those who retain the memory of this dark time of fire and swords and splintered shields. And now the time has come to give this tale back to the people. Gather round young and old and I shall spin the story before your very eyes.

Back through the ages, before the Great Peace, before the barbaric tribes were united 'neath a single flag, in a time when our fair land was territory by right of whatever group of warriors were the strongest and wittiest. In a time when black-hearted pirates still sliced the ever rolling waves of the Great Tear and the Divide. This was a time of war.

I will begin by thrusting you into the wild tale of one young Rebel Eagle Rider who had called a resistance up in one hand and the means to overthrow a corrupt empire in the other. With sword and spear and unflinching loyalty to the cause, this rebel army was nigh the most feared force in all Old Vorandia. The boy's name was Kael Parnsford, but in those days, he was better know simply as, "Wolf". Such a name suited his style in battle. He was fearsome, protective, and, above all else, would rather die than back down. His men followed him no matter what and drew undying strength from his iron resolve.

It was on the ridges of the great mountains in the northwest that this force once stood, looking down on a War Torn land...

And so it begins...

[Neushana]

“Gather around young ones of the Aquilla to heed the words of our Ancient. Make not a noise for their voice grows weak with age, make not a motion, for the years of war and bloodshed have played tricks on their tortured minds. Make not a bed, for there will be no time for sleep once the Ancient begins his tale of long ago. Keep him in the shade of the palm, give him food when he yearns, give him drink when he can no longer speak clearly. Now listen to his words; pay close attention for these will be our Ancient’s last words…”

The large bent over shape of the Ancient slowly crept forth from the flames of the night fires along the edges of the Esterlands. He found his seat amongst the younger ones of the tribe; their breath couldn’t be heard over the crackle of sap burning in the fire. No face could be distinguished from the cloaked figure of the Ancient, nor were any parts of his body were shown. The children thought of him as a ghost, one that could move as silent as the wind, but as fast as the Kashyk.

A low coarse voice could be heard over all, it was demanding the attention and silence of all without asking of it. The voice of the Ancient was heard by all, his last breaths were heard over the crackles of the fires, the smell of burning food was forgotten as he spoke out his last story…

“Young ones…Old ones, elders of the tribe…head my words, take ink and parchment…write down what I have to say…” pausing, the Ancient beckoned one child to him “You…child, bring me water when I need it…unless I ask for another drink...*cough* *cough*…bring me water from the river now…” When the boy had returned the Ancient returned to his story. “Now then…listen carefully, about the story of our…chief of old…Ashuko Stagimo…also known as the Wolverine…only by his allies was he known by this…for it was they who had given that name to him…they say it was the way he fought, some say because of his lust for blood…I believe it was a sign of their friendship…” pausing again the Anceint beckoned his newly appointed water bearer to his side for another cool drink… “Now then…Stagimo was feared by his enemies…because of his ferocity…he trusted by his allies…*cough*… Stagimo was the greatest leader these Esterlands have ever seen…This is his story...and a story of when our lands were...War Torn…so listen carefully to what I have to tell you…”

[Kael]

[[Once again man, props on the last post! Pure gold bro. ]]