12-12-2003, 00:09
Once again, thank you for reading. The previous entry is here. (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=102821&highlight=) This is the next chapter in the Blue Moon series.
Lunaria, the Kingdom of the Moon. Its capital, Nocturna, the City of the Night. The very ideas reflected by these symbols rang only too close to the true nature of the atmosphere of the region. The death grip of the Minions and the Prophetic One left the residents in a constant state of fear. But like any oppressed people, they wouldn't take it lying down. A group of rebels had assembled in the night air, to discuss what to do.
"We can't let them keep controlling us. This is our kingdom! They came here and took over, it's not their position to rule over the natives of the realm."
"I agree, but what do we do? They are too powerful. The last time we tried to kill one of them, they leveled the city and left us all homeless. And the mountain town that disappeared a few days ago? I'm convinced it was their work."
"I think they are on to the Prophet who has been helping us. He can't seem to get any new information from them. Something is up."
The leader, having listened to all of this, rose from his seat. A tall, powerfully built man of about 25, he commanded respect of anyone who looked at him. It was rumored that he had once single-handedly held off a Minion until help came to vanquish it. No proof could be found, as he refused to talk about it. But whatever the case, he was an able leader--they had been able to function for over a year without being detected. He would have the answer to this dilemma. Varquis would know what to do.
"I admit this all seems bad. But we can't give up hope. This is when our true commitment will shine through. If it is true that they are onto us--and the evidence does unhappily seem to say so--then we should sleep with daggers under our pillows, and swords by our bed. The fiends will likely come after us soon, and we must be ready. To deal with the threat of the city being leveled, we will sleep in easily collapsable tents concealed within our houses. That will allow us to have a place to live while we rebuild. I know you are scared; I am too. But the test is nothing we cannot handle. We will prevail, and we will make it through."
The crowd's anxiety melted away. The confidence of their leader was a morale booster. They set up the tents, and readied their weapons as instructed. They fell into deep, contented sleeps; under the watchful eyes of Varquis, nothing bad could happen.
The wind swept up the dusty roads. The cloth doorways flapped and banged against the walls. The few still-lit candles were extinguished by the gale. The sleeping townspeople were drawn out of their dreams and into a reluctant consciousness. This was a familiar sound. And a frightening one.
The wind grew louder; more of them. The dusty swirling streets were punctured by five black pillars. The columns of darkness glided from house to house. Finding all the lights out, they divided and set out to coordinated destinations. One drew a long black bladed knife. He sliced through the cloth in the door. A torch was thrown out into the street. The signal had been given.
The town swarmed into action. Every able person was wielding a sword or brandishing a club. The dark figures drew flush against the houses and melted into the shadows.
"Keep up your guard!" came the call from Varquis. His booming voice was barely heard over the roaring winds. "They'll be coming at us. If the winds don't die down, they're still here." As soon as he finished speaking, he grunted with the effort of throwing one of them off. The other citizens rushed to his aid. A few were hampered by the four other Minions. Blades sliced and clubs batted, but the dark-robed warriors seemed to feel none of it. Periodically they would collapse to the ground and weave in and out of a fight. As they would twirl back into form, men would go flying in every direction. Gloves grasped at the throats of the embattled residents, as the conflict raged on into the heart of the night.
An earsplitting screech greeted their ears. One of the Minions had been defeated. The others stopped to look. Two more were fallen in their distraction. The remaining duo swooped into the middle of the village and clasped their fingers. A whispering breeze seemed to issue fromt their empty hoods. Raising both hands above their heads, an immense shockwave rumbled through the town. Every house was flattened in an instant. With a roar of determination, the defending men leapt upon their assailants. The black cloaks disintegrated into nothingness before their very eyes. The gale settled to a steady gust. The exhausted people gathered together.
With a triumphant grin, Varquis pushed his way to the middle. The frightened townsfolk had defended themselves against an enemy that knew no limit to its power. "We have done it. This will not be forgotten for decades to come. Whatever may happen to us now, our legacy will live on. Go, sleep. We have won the battle." Retiring to their homes, the ecstatic heroes fell to dreams of glory and power. The Minions were not immortal after all. And perhaps there was a chance.
Stay alert for the next installment, Another Time When There's a Fork Stuck In the Road... Hopefully you will stay with me.
Lunaria, the Kingdom of the Moon. Its capital, Nocturna, the City of the Night. The very ideas reflected by these symbols rang only too close to the true nature of the atmosphere of the region. The death grip of the Minions and the Prophetic One left the residents in a constant state of fear. But like any oppressed people, they wouldn't take it lying down. A group of rebels had assembled in the night air, to discuss what to do.
"We can't let them keep controlling us. This is our kingdom! They came here and took over, it's not their position to rule over the natives of the realm."
"I agree, but what do we do? They are too powerful. The last time we tried to kill one of them, they leveled the city and left us all homeless. And the mountain town that disappeared a few days ago? I'm convinced it was their work."
"I think they are on to the Prophet who has been helping us. He can't seem to get any new information from them. Something is up."
The leader, having listened to all of this, rose from his seat. A tall, powerfully built man of about 25, he commanded respect of anyone who looked at him. It was rumored that he had once single-handedly held off a Minion until help came to vanquish it. No proof could be found, as he refused to talk about it. But whatever the case, he was an able leader--they had been able to function for over a year without being detected. He would have the answer to this dilemma. Varquis would know what to do.
"I admit this all seems bad. But we can't give up hope. This is when our true commitment will shine through. If it is true that they are onto us--and the evidence does unhappily seem to say so--then we should sleep with daggers under our pillows, and swords by our bed. The fiends will likely come after us soon, and we must be ready. To deal with the threat of the city being leveled, we will sleep in easily collapsable tents concealed within our houses. That will allow us to have a place to live while we rebuild. I know you are scared; I am too. But the test is nothing we cannot handle. We will prevail, and we will make it through."
The crowd's anxiety melted away. The confidence of their leader was a morale booster. They set up the tents, and readied their weapons as instructed. They fell into deep, contented sleeps; under the watchful eyes of Varquis, nothing bad could happen.
The wind swept up the dusty roads. The cloth doorways flapped and banged against the walls. The few still-lit candles were extinguished by the gale. The sleeping townspeople were drawn out of their dreams and into a reluctant consciousness. This was a familiar sound. And a frightening one.
The wind grew louder; more of them. The dusty swirling streets were punctured by five black pillars. The columns of darkness glided from house to house. Finding all the lights out, they divided and set out to coordinated destinations. One drew a long black bladed knife. He sliced through the cloth in the door. A torch was thrown out into the street. The signal had been given.
The town swarmed into action. Every able person was wielding a sword or brandishing a club. The dark figures drew flush against the houses and melted into the shadows.
"Keep up your guard!" came the call from Varquis. His booming voice was barely heard over the roaring winds. "They'll be coming at us. If the winds don't die down, they're still here." As soon as he finished speaking, he grunted with the effort of throwing one of them off. The other citizens rushed to his aid. A few were hampered by the four other Minions. Blades sliced and clubs batted, but the dark-robed warriors seemed to feel none of it. Periodically they would collapse to the ground and weave in and out of a fight. As they would twirl back into form, men would go flying in every direction. Gloves grasped at the throats of the embattled residents, as the conflict raged on into the heart of the night.
An earsplitting screech greeted their ears. One of the Minions had been defeated. The others stopped to look. Two more were fallen in their distraction. The remaining duo swooped into the middle of the village and clasped their fingers. A whispering breeze seemed to issue fromt their empty hoods. Raising both hands above their heads, an immense shockwave rumbled through the town. Every house was flattened in an instant. With a roar of determination, the defending men leapt upon their assailants. The black cloaks disintegrated into nothingness before their very eyes. The gale settled to a steady gust. The exhausted people gathered together.
With a triumphant grin, Varquis pushed his way to the middle. The frightened townsfolk had defended themselves against an enemy that knew no limit to its power. "We have done it. This will not be forgotten for decades to come. Whatever may happen to us now, our legacy will live on. Go, sleep. We have won the battle." Retiring to their homes, the ecstatic heroes fell to dreams of glory and power. The Minions were not immortal after all. And perhaps there was a chance.
Stay alert for the next installment, Another Time When There's a Fork Stuck In the Road... Hopefully you will stay with me.