Northwestern Liang
25-06-2004, 07:24
Glorin Lightrock was on the run. As a dwarf in the Domain, he was particularly unwelcome. The fact that he was an excellent pickpocket made it even more so. He was almost always in the shadows, moving out from time to time to snatch a living from the streets of Liang's cities. Every now and then he moved out into the rural areas, taking from ordinary village folk, though his conscience, what remained of it, always got to him later. He had been in a few scrapes with Disciples, the trained force that was Liang's military and police, but he had always found a way out of them. Skill with long, hard objects also helped.
This time the target was the classic bad guy scene: an old lady walking down an ally, loosely holding her purse.
"Priceless," he inwardly whispered, and moved out of the ally towards the lady. Sprinting quickly, he ripped the purse out of her hand and quickly took off, when he heard the shrill screams coming out from behind. Turning around just to make sure she wasn't too badly hurt, what he found started an odd acceleration in his heart. Disciples.
"Goddamn it, Banazak, I just don't like the looks of those Drakawhatevers. Sounds like an immigrant problem from hell for us Disciples."
"They are called Dracospawn, twit," spoke his more educated partner, "and every one of them is a perfected form of the Demon, so they say." He paused, chewing on a forbidden donut. "Not to worry, they don't have too many yet. They won't be put in police roles anyhow."
"They damn well better not be, cause I--" he turned the corner just as a scream broke out from a old lady, as what looked like a short, squat kid grabbed her purse and took off running. "Banazak, can you please get this one? I'll assuage the lady's fears or something."
"Fine, man, but this is the last time. You owe me big."
With that, the trained, lithe form of the Disciple known as Banazak tore through the sidewalk, moving extremely fast.
A series of expletives broke from the mouth of Lightrock as light, fast steps broke out. Looking back, he saw one Disciple sprint towards him. His dwarven legs moved surprisingly fast, but he quickly began to tire, finally slowing to a crawl. The Disciple closed in, knocked him to ground, and proceeded to shoot his legs.
"F***n police brutality."
"Quiet, you are under arrest for..." It was then that Banazak pulled off the ski mask and discovered facial hair everywhere.
"Your a-"
"dwarf? No ****, Sherlock."
"Yeah, I'm shocked, I thought we exterminated all of you hole-diggers a long time ago."
"Surprise!" Lightrock said with contemptive sarcasm.
Banazak knocked him out with the butt of his old rifle, then proceeded to tell his partner all about the encounter.
"Well, you know what chief said to do."
The dwarf slowly went up the chain of command, until, legs still unfunctioning, he found himself in a large procession heading towards Sauranero, the capital city of Liang (which surprisingly wasn't very big urbanally). He was at the rear of the procession, and obviously the double-file line ahead of him were all prisoners of all different kinds.
"What the f-" He was cut short when a Disciple behind him, apparently in command of the two flanking columns, made sure Lightrock knew any outbursts would end in immediate death. The commander seemed to find that funny, for some reason, and so the procession continued. Deeper into the heart of Sauranero they went, until they came to what everyone in Liang called "The Opening". Underneath here were huge, 20-story high tunnels, carved out eons ago by mysterious means. Personally Glorin believe dwarves had done it, but of course the anti-dwarf government would never believe that. Calmly the procession field into the large coliseum-like area, until they entered the gently-sloping massive opening which led further and further into the ground. At this point every single prisoner, and there were over a hundred, were blind-folded and Disciples casually mentioned that they might want to take a nap.
Glorin, about to pass out from pain anyhow, complied.
When he woke up, he was face down in a small plastic thing he supposed passed for a bed in, apparently, what passed for a jail. All it was a tiny indent in the wall blocked by a steel prison door. He had no idea how long he had been out, minutes, hours, even days?
He was somewhat startled when a Disciple opened his cell and motioned him out. When Glorin made clear he still had bullets in his leg, the Disciple nodded knowingly and picked him up, a none-too-easy task were not the Disciple a muscular man.
Again he was blindfolded and drugged, and when he woke up he stood in front of a twin set of gigantic jet-black doors, upon which were carved numerous dark-blue runes in a tongue Glorin had never even heard spoken.
That was soon over, when what, by the stories he had heard, was a Dracospawn, moved to the head of the Disciples surrounding about twenty other prisoners, and spoke a sentence in what was apparently a forgotten tongue. The Disciples apparently were scared shitless, and when the doors opened they practically threw the prisoners in and got the hell out of doge. The Dracospawn spoke again, and the doors closed, and he calmly left the area.
Inside, the area was completely lightless. Glorin strained to see anything, but alas, he could not, no matter how wide his pupils attempted to stretch.
Suddenly, completely, a voice, sounding as if it came from somewhere in the air and from something massive, rang in all twenty prisoner's ears.
"Oh good, I was beginning to think they would be late. Humanoids and their fears. I rue every moment I take their form."
Glorin was confused, stunned, and then he saw something. Apparently it was a torch of some kind, glowing from precisely where the voice had come from. He could barely make out that the tiny flame was attached to something. He grew somewhat curious as the flame grew larger, and larger, and then suddenly a dread fear, fear as none other gripped Glorin Turoot Lightrock. He, as did every other prisoner, ran and slammed themselves into the closed doors, screaming for mercy and calling to various gods. For as the flame grew larger Glorin had made out a plated snout, as that of a Komodo monitor. As it grew even larger it illuminated a dark red eye. Then a neck, and then the entire form of the massive Ruler, the Ancient One of Liang, the namesake of the Draconic Domain, was visible before them as it laughed a taunting, evil, massive laugh. It's long, undulating neck swooped and crunch!, a prisoner would gone, and the horrible sound of crackling bones reached their ears. The wyrm blew a huge flame out of its gaping maw, and bones, looking like those from numerous newborns and a lesser number of adults , were all over the chamber. The laughing voice of the Ruler drowned out of the united wails of 19 prisoners, as it spoke again.
"Ah, none too well for conversation, are we? Humanoids and their fear." A 'small' chuckle, followed by another sentence. "It is a shame none speak, for their lives shall be that much shorter."
Again, as if a snike striking a heel, the wyrm's head moved down and snatched one up, this time charring the body's external skin to crisp before devouring it whole. This process it followed until the tiny dwarf, Glorin Lightrock, lay prostrate on the ground.
"A tiny child. I thought Schuelke had fed me all of th-" upon closer inspection, he discovered the same thing as Officer Banazak.
"A DWARF!" he yelled. This meant that the entire complex shook, and would-be 2nd courses quaked with fear.
"I thought I had exterminated you rats," he sad, moving his massive head closer and further down to the sniveling Lightrock.
"I shall have fun with this one," he mischeviously grinned, and began a slow process of torturing the life out of the teeny dwarf in retribution for various slayings of his kin they had partaken in. He performed the gruesome task with small amounts of flame, tiny cuts with one of his razor teeth, and various spells he used while in his own humanoid form.
Having finally completed his meal, his gargantuan stomach content, the bored Ruler of Liang curled up and fell to rest, waiting for its next meal.
OOC: I'm not exactly sure where I want to go RP wise with this yet, the idea sort of came into my head as a way of solving a....'logistics' problem. Feel free to enter it in any way you might like, new characters, etc. It is possible, should your character be entertaining and brave enough, to actually befriend the Ruler, as he loves conversation, or you can RP a possible break-out attempt. Anything you want. For those of you with images of dragon-slaying, dont, I dont want him killed.
This time the target was the classic bad guy scene: an old lady walking down an ally, loosely holding her purse.
"Priceless," he inwardly whispered, and moved out of the ally towards the lady. Sprinting quickly, he ripped the purse out of her hand and quickly took off, when he heard the shrill screams coming out from behind. Turning around just to make sure she wasn't too badly hurt, what he found started an odd acceleration in his heart. Disciples.
"Goddamn it, Banazak, I just don't like the looks of those Drakawhatevers. Sounds like an immigrant problem from hell for us Disciples."
"They are called Dracospawn, twit," spoke his more educated partner, "and every one of them is a perfected form of the Demon, so they say." He paused, chewing on a forbidden donut. "Not to worry, they don't have too many yet. They won't be put in police roles anyhow."
"They damn well better not be, cause I--" he turned the corner just as a scream broke out from a old lady, as what looked like a short, squat kid grabbed her purse and took off running. "Banazak, can you please get this one? I'll assuage the lady's fears or something."
"Fine, man, but this is the last time. You owe me big."
With that, the trained, lithe form of the Disciple known as Banazak tore through the sidewalk, moving extremely fast.
A series of expletives broke from the mouth of Lightrock as light, fast steps broke out. Looking back, he saw one Disciple sprint towards him. His dwarven legs moved surprisingly fast, but he quickly began to tire, finally slowing to a crawl. The Disciple closed in, knocked him to ground, and proceeded to shoot his legs.
"F***n police brutality."
"Quiet, you are under arrest for..." It was then that Banazak pulled off the ski mask and discovered facial hair everywhere.
"Your a-"
"dwarf? No ****, Sherlock."
"Yeah, I'm shocked, I thought we exterminated all of you hole-diggers a long time ago."
"Surprise!" Lightrock said with contemptive sarcasm.
Banazak knocked him out with the butt of his old rifle, then proceeded to tell his partner all about the encounter.
"Well, you know what chief said to do."
The dwarf slowly went up the chain of command, until, legs still unfunctioning, he found himself in a large procession heading towards Sauranero, the capital city of Liang (which surprisingly wasn't very big urbanally). He was at the rear of the procession, and obviously the double-file line ahead of him were all prisoners of all different kinds.
"What the f-" He was cut short when a Disciple behind him, apparently in command of the two flanking columns, made sure Lightrock knew any outbursts would end in immediate death. The commander seemed to find that funny, for some reason, and so the procession continued. Deeper into the heart of Sauranero they went, until they came to what everyone in Liang called "The Opening". Underneath here were huge, 20-story high tunnels, carved out eons ago by mysterious means. Personally Glorin believe dwarves had done it, but of course the anti-dwarf government would never believe that. Calmly the procession field into the large coliseum-like area, until they entered the gently-sloping massive opening which led further and further into the ground. At this point every single prisoner, and there were over a hundred, were blind-folded and Disciples casually mentioned that they might want to take a nap.
Glorin, about to pass out from pain anyhow, complied.
When he woke up, he was face down in a small plastic thing he supposed passed for a bed in, apparently, what passed for a jail. All it was a tiny indent in the wall blocked by a steel prison door. He had no idea how long he had been out, minutes, hours, even days?
He was somewhat startled when a Disciple opened his cell and motioned him out. When Glorin made clear he still had bullets in his leg, the Disciple nodded knowingly and picked him up, a none-too-easy task were not the Disciple a muscular man.
Again he was blindfolded and drugged, and when he woke up he stood in front of a twin set of gigantic jet-black doors, upon which were carved numerous dark-blue runes in a tongue Glorin had never even heard spoken.
That was soon over, when what, by the stories he had heard, was a Dracospawn, moved to the head of the Disciples surrounding about twenty other prisoners, and spoke a sentence in what was apparently a forgotten tongue. The Disciples apparently were scared shitless, and when the doors opened they practically threw the prisoners in and got the hell out of doge. The Dracospawn spoke again, and the doors closed, and he calmly left the area.
Inside, the area was completely lightless. Glorin strained to see anything, but alas, he could not, no matter how wide his pupils attempted to stretch.
Suddenly, completely, a voice, sounding as if it came from somewhere in the air and from something massive, rang in all twenty prisoner's ears.
"Oh good, I was beginning to think they would be late. Humanoids and their fears. I rue every moment I take their form."
Glorin was confused, stunned, and then he saw something. Apparently it was a torch of some kind, glowing from precisely where the voice had come from. He could barely make out that the tiny flame was attached to something. He grew somewhat curious as the flame grew larger, and larger, and then suddenly a dread fear, fear as none other gripped Glorin Turoot Lightrock. He, as did every other prisoner, ran and slammed themselves into the closed doors, screaming for mercy and calling to various gods. For as the flame grew larger Glorin had made out a plated snout, as that of a Komodo monitor. As it grew even larger it illuminated a dark red eye. Then a neck, and then the entire form of the massive Ruler, the Ancient One of Liang, the namesake of the Draconic Domain, was visible before them as it laughed a taunting, evil, massive laugh. It's long, undulating neck swooped and crunch!, a prisoner would gone, and the horrible sound of crackling bones reached their ears. The wyrm blew a huge flame out of its gaping maw, and bones, looking like those from numerous newborns and a lesser number of adults , were all over the chamber. The laughing voice of the Ruler drowned out of the united wails of 19 prisoners, as it spoke again.
"Ah, none too well for conversation, are we? Humanoids and their fear." A 'small' chuckle, followed by another sentence. "It is a shame none speak, for their lives shall be that much shorter."
Again, as if a snike striking a heel, the wyrm's head moved down and snatched one up, this time charring the body's external skin to crisp before devouring it whole. This process it followed until the tiny dwarf, Glorin Lightrock, lay prostrate on the ground.
"A tiny child. I thought Schuelke had fed me all of th-" upon closer inspection, he discovered the same thing as Officer Banazak.
"A DWARF!" he yelled. This meant that the entire complex shook, and would-be 2nd courses quaked with fear.
"I thought I had exterminated you rats," he sad, moving his massive head closer and further down to the sniveling Lightrock.
"I shall have fun with this one," he mischeviously grinned, and began a slow process of torturing the life out of the teeny dwarf in retribution for various slayings of his kin they had partaken in. He performed the gruesome task with small amounts of flame, tiny cuts with one of his razor teeth, and various spells he used while in his own humanoid form.
Having finally completed his meal, his gargantuan stomach content, the bored Ruler of Liang curled up and fell to rest, waiting for its next meal.
OOC: I'm not exactly sure where I want to go RP wise with this yet, the idea sort of came into my head as a way of solving a....'logistics' problem. Feel free to enter it in any way you might like, new characters, etc. It is possible, should your character be entertaining and brave enough, to actually befriend the Ruler, as he loves conversation, or you can RP a possible break-out attempt. Anything you want. For those of you with images of dragon-slaying, dont, I dont want him killed.