NationStates Jolt Archive


The tide-fires are born again...{Major}

imported_Pantera
05-01-2004, 18:26
{{OOC: The initial posts in this topic have already been posted in the 'I'm in the mood' thread. As they are important to coming events, I have decided to include them here as well. MASSIVE changes in Pantera are coming, and they will all begin in this thread. If you have anything to do with Pantera, or ever plan to, I wouild advise you keep up, because things are about to go terribly, terribly wrong. Believe that shit.

To provide a bit of background, Dayne has been mikssing in Pantera for a few months. Hidding out from himself, as it were. After discovering his young wife abed with nother man, Dayne had killed the man, banished the wife, and fled the Seastone Palace. Recently he has finally spoken to Bastien who has just returned from AMF. Even though he dislikes the idea of it he is a dutiful brother, and Dayne makes for Sunspear, the greatest city in the South...}}

*

As Lord Defender of the Saryn Marches, Protector of the South and Prince of Sunspear, Jace Godsgrace was not a man who was used to being ordered to do anything, unless it was the Lord Reaver himself. A threat upon his person was unheard of, and almost obscene... He thought, that as the most powerful Lord in Pantera, that he was above being threatened by any man, much less Dayne, ragged from the road, smelling of booze and unshaven for three days.

It had started out well enough. Dayne and the Hound had been passing through Sunspear when they stopped to call Bastien. His order was to raise the Saryn Banners and host all of Godsgrace's ships and men in preperation for a 'large-scale' campaign. Bastien would say no more on a line he wasn't sure was secure, but he had been vehement about the need for the Saryn Banners and their attending might.

Godsgrace, however, had not proved cooperative. He made excuses, claiming most of his fleet was in dry-dock for repairs, and his remaining garrisons were needed for a pending Clan-Feud with the Lord of the Burning Gate of the Vale. Dayne had persisted until nightfall, when Godsgrace had called an end to the discussions for the night, and had retired.

Dayne however, remained awake and walked the walls of Sunspear, glancing over at the towering crystal thrust that the great citadel tooks its name from. Some eight-hundred feet high, its depths even now reflecting the few lights that remain alight brilliantly.

A fine scene, and he was enjoyng it immensely when the girl appeared. Thick of breast and small of waist, she boasted the golden hair and chocolate eyes of House Starshade. Dayne had never met the girl, but he knew her story, and of her beauty. Last blood of a dying House that had held the South for eight-hundred years until Godsgrace had wrested it from them during the Redeye Rebellion that had claimed the lives of so many. Bastien himself had killed the girls father when he refused to bend the knee after Dayne had put down Redeye's rebellion. Aye, Dayne knew the story. All men did, and it was well known the girl was a 'ward' of Jace Godsgrace. Hostage more like... Dayne thought as he looked on the lass before jerking from his revelry back to the present.

Her smile is almost shy as she curtsies and her voice is melodic with the accents of the Tribal tongues, still spoken in Starshade,"My Lord Prince. I am Eshara Starshade... Long have I waited to speak with you, and now you are here."

Dayne smiles but taken slighly aback by the girls manner, her breasts pulling tightly at her bodice as she arches her back and tilts her head, allowing her thick mane of golden hair to cascade over a shoulder. Whore. Is the first thing that pops into the Evenstar's mind, but she was there, and it would be a fine distraction. Besides, the thought of his Bastard in this girl's belly would sour Godsgrace's attitude somewhat when Starshade's lands and title did not fall to him upon her death, likely not far away.

Reaching a hand to cup the girl's cheek, Dayne leans close and plants the lightest of kisses on her lips and whispers,"I know who you are My Queen of Beauty. I have long awaited this moment as well..."

The Evenstar wasn't quite finished, but the girl suddenly broke into sobs and threw herself at him, showering him with wet, tear sodden kisses. Her wails were loud, and he thought to clamp a hand over her mouth, but was shaking and wailing so... "My Lord... I knew you would save me. The old woman told me so long ago that you were the one... Take me, My Lord. Take me from this place and away from that beast of a Lord. PLEASE! He beats me, and does such... *sob* Terrible things to me..."

Dayne strokes the girls hair reassuringly andsays,"Aye lass, all will be well. You'll come with me and Bastien will set things right. You'll see. Come. We'll get my Hound and we'll be gone before that pig of a Godsgrace knows a thing..."

The shadows sweeping in around Dayne are silent but for the scrape of steel and the scuff of Jace Godsgrace's heels. Men swarm out of rooms, alcoves and out into the yard below from the great double doors of the citadel. Clad in silvery-blue livery, there are too many to count at a glance, but a glance is all Dayne needs to know they are all armed to the teeth.

Thrusting the girl behind himself, Dayne jerks his dagger from its sheath on his hip and sneers, placing himself between the armed men and the girl. The click of a hammer on a pistol stops him from launching himself at Godsgrace, but it did not silence him,"You'll burn for this, craven. You think to bear steel against me and not go unpunished? Bastien will have you flayed for this."

Godsgrace's smile is painted with contempt as he speaks,"I think not, boy. I think your brother will have his hands full soon enough. And from now on, you may adress me as Lord Reaver Jace Godsgrace. A nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Dayne spits and curses them, but as they close he has no choice but to lower his dagger. Some twelve to one they have him on the wall, with a dozen more below, all armed with swords and at least one with a pistol.

"Cowards..! Is all he has time to roar before the first blow lands to his face. The world becomes a haze of pain and burning fury, but through it he hears the wails of the girl...

**

"You're mad Godsgrace.... I've eaten your salt... and you've violated my guestright. Cursed by Gods and Men alike you are." It was hard for Dayne to speak through lips smashed into pulp and his brain refuses to hold still, but he continues to spit obscenities as they haul him to feet. One eye is swollen almost shut, his nose has been broken and at least one tooth was chipped.

Snatching one of Dayne's braids, Godsgrace pulls him close, leaning in to leer in his face,"Keep your threats, Dayne. You are yet valuable to me. If you conduct yourself proper-like, maybe I shall let you live in the Great Tower once the Seastone Palace is mine."

Snarling, the traitor Lord thrusts Dayne to his knees and turns, barking orders at his Captain of the Guards,"Have him thrown in one of the Black Cells. DO NOT let him out of your sight, understood?"

The man nods quickly and Godsgrace turns on his heel to stride off down the hall, his grossly fat body swaying beneath the great orange and black cloak draping his shoulders. The sight made Dayne sick.

A sword prodding him in the middle of his back starts him moving, and soon he is lost amid the twists and turns of Sunspear, though he knows they are heading down, ever downward into the bowels of the great citadel. The bowels, he thought. Fitting for the smell was that of a privy.

Dayne glances uyp at a torch, set in an iron sconce. No electricity this low? He wonders numbly. The blows to his head had numbed his wits, and his senses seemed wrapped in wool.

Coughing lightly, he lurches into the wall, scraping his face against the stone and leaning down to retch uncontrollably. A familiar roar reaches his ears, but all he can do is retch, and retch and retch...

When his stomach has emptied itself Dayne raises his eyes to a scene of carnage. The half-dozen guards that Godsgrace had sent with him were scattered about the hall, and Caval the Warhound sweeps among them, a red-rain flying from his longsword. A few of the guards tried to fight, but the old Hound cut and spun, the silvered blade of his longsword flicking in, out, always finding purchase against flesh or bone.

The rest of the guards, seeing the demon that has fallen upon them turn to flee, but the Hound is then upon them. Showing no mercy, he hamstrings the first and plunges his blade through the back of the second. The final guard is almost to a set of large doors when the Hound bears him down, dropping his longsword and jerking a dagger from his sheath. Sawing viciously at the man's throat, Caval rears back his head and howls like the beast from which he takes his name, the sound grief and rage-filled at once as the blood gushes from the terrible wound to his enemies throat and out, over his hands.

The entire time, Dayne simply stares, dumbfounded and befuddled. When the Hound rises, drenched in his foes blood and a wild look on his grizzled face, Dayne chuckles softly and weaves on his feet before pitching forward awkwardly onto his face.

The world is soon dark, and for awhile, nothing matters but that warm, soft blackness, and the throbbing agony of his head.

He comes...
imported_Pantera
05-01-2004, 18:27
The tide-fires are born again...

The Evenstar's lover thrashed beneath him, a shadow whose face twisted and melted even as he watched. Something was wrong with that, but lost in ecstasy, he did not care in the least. Harder and faster he thrust into her, rivulets of sweat cascading down his face and bare back. Her moans only increased his passion, and soon his seed was spilling forth.

Head thrashing, Dayne continued to thrust, but the sense of wrongness continued to build. His lovers head raised to kiss him, and he bends his neck to receive her, but his passion turns to dismay as the full, waiting lips turn to a mouth of fangs. Rearing back, he tried to pull himself from between her thighs, but realizes there are teeth above, -and- below. The gaping maw below savaged and worried at his manhood, while above her teeth rend his face.

Screaming, Dayne wrenched himself free and rose.

The Ravens feed at the coming of the Shining Prince...

Clad in silver chased armor, Dayne strides the length of the Great Hall. Bastien and his Lord Father are seated upon ether arm of the Seastone Chair, a slim iron crown perched between them on the worn, grey-green stone of the seat.

His heart swells at the sight of their faces. Bastien, his brother and his hero; Valanus Vayne, the mightiest Lord Reaver since the Iron Lion himself.... No... Bastien was Lord now, his father long slain... It did not matter, his father's smile was proud, Bastien's as well.

He had reached the foot of the dais when his father's smile began to slip, and Bastien's disappeared. Both reach down and take up the slim crown. Together, they offer it to Dayne, but he stumbled back, refusing it.

The skin of Valanus Vayne's face crumbles away, leaving a leering skull, while Bastien's eyes are wreathed in flame, his cried piteous and terrible...

With the Dawn they come, to plunge us into the Long Night, and drag us through it's depths...

Ten thousand Reavers roar their defiance upon the shores of the Blood Bay. The crimson waves crash and swell as if a mighty storm raged, but above the sky was a dead, leaden gray.

The cheers washed over Dayne, and he raised his mighty broadsword, it's length inscribed with silver runes. His own screams drown out the surrounding Reavers, and for a moment, he knew that the coming enemies would dash themselves to pieces against his might.

When his own screams subsided, he was alone. The darkness loomed on the horizon, terrible and impending. He was utterly alone.

Shore to Shore the wicked will reign, while flames of wrath scour us clean...

The stones continued to pelt Dayne's face and back, though he had long since become a huddling mass of sobbing hysteria. Filth and curses flew along with the stones, but death's wings were stayed for what seemed an eternity.

The seas boil and the mountains burn, with sword and screams, He comes...

Women he had once known raked at his eyes with talons of fire. Friends he had drank and whored with plunged swords of ice through him. Loved ones and men he had never wronged all waited, sharpening blade, talon, and fang while others tended fires to scorch him. The more he wailed and raged, the more came from the darkness to join the horde of waiting torturers.

Smiles turned to stone, nations razed and peoples raped, He comes...

Falling. Ever falling. The crows swooped about and pecked the eyes from his face, but flail as he would, they never ceased. Down and down he fell, praying for the bottom of the chasm, terrified it would come.

When it did come, he was grateful. The shards of iron and bronze thrust through his soft flesh, and the impact shattered his bones, every one...

Tremble with the Dawn, for it heralds the Night as Dusk never could, He comes...

The seas were boiling, and he had caused it. From his perch atop the Seastone Palace, he could see for hundreds of miles, and as far as he could see, fires raged and explosions rocked the earth. Try as he would, he could not remember if he had set the fires himself, or ordered it done. It mattered not. In the end, the world would curse his name.

He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes... He comes...

Laughing ruefully, Dayne wiped the blood and filth from his face upon a banner of fiery silk. A thousand voices screamed at him, but he knew what they did not.

He is here.
imported_Pantera
05-01-2004, 18:30
"Dayne! Dayne, stop this! EVENSTAR!" The voice of his friend calling his soulname calms Dayne, and he stares about, his purple eyes bright with fever and hate.

The worn face of the WarHound looms over him, alongside that of a dark-eyed girl. His friend's face is creased with worry, but the sight of it sends Dayne into another rage and he snarls, reaching for him.

"Go easy, Evenstar... All is well." Caval rasps and grabs at his hands. Weak with fever and madness, Dayne relents and slowly he distinguishes reality from the horrors of the nightmare... He comes... Moaning softly, he struggles for the words he cannot grasp.

Dayne's mouth works wordlessly for a moment, before he croaks,"Water. Now."

The girl hurries off as the Hound continues to speak to Dayne, his gruff voice almost kind,""You took y' a nasty whack, lad. All is well now. You just be easy and we'll sort things out, eh?"

The girl returns with a cup of water which she holds to Dayne's mouth. He gulps at it greedily, the cool liquid seeping into the fever parched skin of his throat. When he drains it, he looks again at the girl. Eshara... He thinks as his eyes drink her in.

Pulling his eyes from the girls chocolate colored eyes, Dayne 's wild gaze takes in Caval and he groans,"How long?"

The look the girl gives the old man trails a light finger of fear across Dayne's soul, and he struggles to rise,"How, long, Damnit?!"

"Sixteen days." Caval admits as he raises a hand to scratch at a long, half-healed scratch running up his neck.

Gods, that long? The cloud of drugs still hovers about his thoughts, but Dayne fights through it, and gradually pieces his last moments of conciousness together.

"Godsgrace." The name was almost a curse as remembrance came. The thought of the man's smug, pampered face fill the Reaver Prince with fury as he looks around the room, scanning his surroundings with glazed eyes.

Wooden walls, threadbare hangings.... Not Sunspear, then...

"Where, Hound? How am I come to be here, and alive? Godsgrace had us dead to right's." Dayne asks.

The grizzled old Warhound snorts and offers a wink at the girl, Eshara,"Bah. You should have seen the rabble he sent to guard you. A half dozen of them, all armed, and not a one had the courage to face me. They broke, ran, and me and the lass here took you from Sunspear. Godsgrace has closed the South, Dayne, and all of the Saryn Banners hunt you. I've tried to get in touch with Bastien, but... For now is enough you're with us again."

Dayne grunts to show what he thinks of that and rubs at his eyes the haze that clouds them,"Bastien first, eh? We'll see how well Godsgrace fares against me with an army at my back. By the Gods,"

Evenstar... The Hounds face creases once more as he sighs,"I don't think Godsgrace means for us to leave. The Marches are closed, Dayne. From Sunspear to the Bloody Gate. He has closed the South, -completely-. From the few news broadcasts still running, it seems they think he's preparing for BloodFeud against Lord Mas of the Blood Gate."

The worst was yet to come, he knew, but already Dayne felt sick, with grief, pain, and hate,"He told me, Hound... Bastien would soon have his hands full... Styling hmself Lord Reaver... He thinks to take Bastien's throne? Madness. All the power of the Vale and the North will be behind him."

Caval arches an eyebrow, as if he wasn't sure, but Dayne hardly noticed.

It is the Redeye Rebellion come again... Gods, what do I do? Godsgrace commands as many Reavers and fleets as Bastien, but to threaten Toke he will need to breach the Vale, and there he will err.

For a thousand and more years, the Vale's Bloody Gate of the South and the Shining Gate of the North had been the stone upon which a hundred armies had dashed themselves to pieces. Still they held, fortified and manned, they could possibly be the most unassailable positions in Pantera, if not the world. Lord Mas of the Bloody Gate was loyal, he had no doubt...

"DAYNE!" The Hounds bark cuts through his reverie, and he gives a start,"Seven Hells, lad, listen. He will have the Vale. It is BloodFeud between Godsgrace and Mas. Bastien cannot interfere in that, even if he wished. Godsgrace will take the Bloody Gate, and then the Vale...."

He left the horror unsaid, but Dayne knew well enough. Without the Vale in hand, Bastien could never hold the North. Resin would fall, the Arbor and the Seven Cities of Shine. The Lord Reaver has to be warned, and quickly, else all will be lost.

I come, Bastien... I come...

{{OOC: And that does it with the reposts. If you haven't read them, do so, or you are going to be hopelessly lost through this thread. If you wish to participate in this, please telegram me before posting as I don't want this to turn into a large mess of an RP. Thanks, and I hope you all enjoy it.}}
Automagfreek
05-01-2004, 18:37
The entity had remained suspended over Pantera since his late night calling to Bastien. Certainly the Dread Fires were not ignorant to what was happening, and the entity knew this. He had been watching the bastard Dayne carefully as the expedition to raise Dreadfire continued.

Certianly Damien could see this as well, but the entity knew not if he would remember such events after the raising. The Dread Fires burned ever brighter in the east as the entity remained in serene suspension over the shores of Pantera. The entity thought to himself...

I fear Damien will return all too late...I fear the Dread Fires may not burn through this storm...

http://207.44.246.95/85/131/upload/p185.jpg
He Who Shall Remain Unnamed
-Lord of the Death Dealers-
Servant of the Dread Fires



OOC: God damn....nice writing! Consider this a tag of sorts.
imported_Pantera
05-01-2004, 18:58
It was much as the Hound had claimed. All of the South was closed, no air or sea traffic and the Saryn Banners scoured the land for the Evenstar. From Bastien, nothing was heard. He sat in Toke, awaiting Dayne's return, and the doom of his realm. With the Bloody Gate barred, there was no way back to Toke.

Six times had the Hound ventured from their place to try and make a call and six times he had been forced back into hiding, lest he be taken by one of the thousands of patrols sweeping through Sunspear, Gade, and the rest of the South's great cities.

Dayne however, Eshara kept firmly in hand. Beautiful she was, and soft spoken, but when roused her anger was fierce and he soon learned to heed her. Slowly his head cleared and the bruises on his face heal.

Finally, one Monday, Dayne pushes himself from the bed and stretches the taught muscles of his arms and shoulders. Naked, the muscles beneath his skin ripple and jerk, as if alive. Though he feels the weakness in his limbs, the old feeling of fury and power barely chained remains.

Humming softly, Dayne turns and reaches for the long cloak hung beside his bed and for the first time sees Eshara, snuggled low under a bearskin and watching him move. She looks startled as he sees her and attempts to look away, but she knows the damage has been done, and her face flushes.

Dayne simply laughs and drapes the long cloak about his nakedness. Turning, he smiles at the girl and asks,"And where is my faithful Hound?"

As if in answer, the door bangs open and the man enters, bearing a newspaper that he flings down in disgust,"It's begun, Evenstar. I dinna think Godsgrace would have attacked with you still loose, but he's done it. Mas was killed in an air strike this morning, and even now Southron Reavers pour through the Bloody Gate and into the soft heart of the Vale."

"Gods... Mas dead, how many more?" Many, it seemed. The attack had come at dawn, a missile strike against the Tower of the Gate where Mas made his home.

"A cowards way to wage a war." Caval declares solemnly.

Grunting a reply, Dane hurriedly dresses and takes up his sword, saying,"Come then, My Hound and my Lady. We must win back to Bastien before the Burning Gate falls. We still have a chance, if a small one."

Caressing the ornate hilt of his sword, Dayne moves out into the morning, his thoughts in turmoil. I need to get a gun. He thinks. Every Reaver carried his sword or other Honorable weapon, but wars were not waged with them. He has a good pistol in the car, but he decides he will need something a bit bigger before the day is done.
Elara
06-01-2004, 21:26
Sven stood tall at the front of his mighty ship his golden blonde hair flowing in the wind. The ship that he had ordered to be built from the tall pines that litter Elaras vast forests when Sven was just but a young boy. The oars touched the waters surface ever so gently makingnot but a slight noise. The Fenrir, as the ship was named after Svens other vessel, seemed to glide through the mist and fog that almost blinded them. It looked almost like a Viking Longboat though three times ones size and it shown of Elarian design in some areas and carried small shields along its sides.

As he closed his eyes Sven begin to think of the dreams he had.[i] 'Where am I going , the dreams....the Gods must have sent them...why do I keep dreaming of this...' [i]Sven opened his eyes and reached for a bow and let loose an arrow into the midnight sky. He listened but heard nothing. He grew tired of this and began to wonder if the Gods had really been sending the dreams. With a light snapping sound another arrow flies away and Sven listens , this time the sound of the arrow hitting a tree.

The light of the flaming arrow could be seen ahead and the fog began to part away. "Land!" Came the shout of one of Svens Warriors. Though midnight the land could be seen clear as day as the full moon shown down upon all. The oars of the Fenrir raised and entered the ship once again as the mighty vessel hit land. Sven jumped from the ship into knee deep waters , soon followed by his Warriors who sunk a little deeper since Sven is eight feet tall.

As the men walk ashore Svens ice blue eyes gaze across the land , this land that he had dreamed of... "By the Gods , its here....but still why have I been drawn to this place..." Sven turned to his men , his muscles rippled under his Elarian Armor , his black cloak flowing in the cool night air.

"We will set up camp here and move on in the morning." Sven said in a strong confident voice , his Ice Blue eyes gave a cold look at his men , his mere look commanded respect and obedience.

"M'lord why have we not brought our rifles?" "How are we to hunt?" Asks one of the Elarian Warriors in a growl like voice , he said this low though with his head slightly bowed showing absolute respect.

"The Gods commanded it , we are only to bring our blades." Sven turns his back to the man to look once more at the land around him. This felt like home for some strange reason , why....he had not seen much of the land. But even now as he sniffed the cold night air did he feel a love for this place.

The Warriors set up camp and soon they are all sitting around a fire eating roasted rabbit sharing stories of battle. And great hymns of war. Sven looked to the night sky , filled with a million twinkling bright stars and the bright full moon that appeared to glow and shine upon his face. He hoped that by morning the Gods would have revealed why he had come to this strange place...
imported_Pantera
19-01-2004, 07:33
OOC: Alright. I'm going to have to put a bit of a halt on this, for at least a few weeks. I've got little to no time to RP, much less work as hard on this scenario as I would like. Rather than cheapen it by rushing, I've decided to tweak time a bit and stop things where they are. Those of you who I've spoken to about coming in, please wait. Elara, when you're online over the next days lurk on AIM, as I've got a few things we need to discuss. :) The rest of you who've pestered me for another scene will have to wait. HAH! I'll be around a bit, and might kick around a n00b or three, but this, my masterpiece RP will have to wait.

Blood and fire and all that.
Automagfreek
26-03-2004, 18:02
OOC: Bump, for a friend.
imported_Angelus
26-03-2004, 20:23
(tag)
Swordmasters of Ginaz
26-03-2004, 20:24
(OOC: 5CN's puppet)
This has been #tagged...
Crimmond
26-03-2004, 20:46
*tagged for in depth reading when I return*