Jenrak
18-02-2005, 03:16
There is nothing that can be done to stop an evil completely; to destroy it. But to see that same evil grow, to see it break from the cocoon of valour that encases it, that is a far more terrible thing to witness...
Asherach was a dark kingdom that brushed along the edge of the known world, a single breathing, living thing that ruled unseen lands for countless millenia. But it was no doubt indeed flawed, for after the rule of the Dark Lord Nuir Enkur, Asherach began to crumble. Without power to sustain it, the dark empire began to implode, die from within.
Inner rebellions among the clans that sustained the power started to slaughter each other,frighteningly unchallenged. Soldiers would kill their commanders, children would betray their parents to death, and death was the daily visitor of what remained of this kingdom. The fringeline forces launched a war, a war of dark seccession, where the empire crumbled beneath the shadowy lands it long ago claimed without peer.
A vast empire that took millenia to forge, destroyed and crippled from inside within months, left no legacy behind for the rest of the world to know, but a small patch of its former self. These died, one by one, but some were able to persist, to maintain their heritage, and possibly cradle their imminent forebearer's destruction.
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Saerus breathed deeply, his lungs slowly clicking repeatedly. He glanced off from place to place, and usually saw many things inside his room that he normally did not. He was charged with a great task, but it wasn't something he could normally do.
His skills were restricted normally to the battlefield, but it was neccessary for him to partake in this task. He couldn't leave it, or else he would probably fail the objective.
He was nervous, and to step outside the boundaries of Jenrak made him careful, diligent, for he was told of great stories of the evilness that lurked in the world. Saerus took up his long dashy traveller's cloak, and his shining sword and pistol, and off he went, to further find more information that is most likely scattered in the world on his beloved nation.
Many places would not know Jenrak, a hidden country, an invisible remains of a dark power. Saerus was not proud of this certain history, but he was impressed by the resilience of the Empire's remains.
He stepped out his door, and fumbled deeply into his pockets for his keys.
"Where are they?" He asked himself intently.
"Ah." He pressed his fingers against a sharp edge, and pulled out a pair of long, periwinkle keys that slid tightly into the keyhole of his house, and the door clicked loudly.
Dropping them back into his pocket, Saerus turned around and gazed at the clouds climbing over the towers before he remembered to move on.
Footsteps were here behind him, but by ignoring them, he only furthered the speed of his pace. Something seemed to follow him, and the rattling behind him rattled faster with every second. The borders never looked so inviting.
Asherach was a dark kingdom that brushed along the edge of the known world, a single breathing, living thing that ruled unseen lands for countless millenia. But it was no doubt indeed flawed, for after the rule of the Dark Lord Nuir Enkur, Asherach began to crumble. Without power to sustain it, the dark empire began to implode, die from within.
Inner rebellions among the clans that sustained the power started to slaughter each other,frighteningly unchallenged. Soldiers would kill their commanders, children would betray their parents to death, and death was the daily visitor of what remained of this kingdom. The fringeline forces launched a war, a war of dark seccession, where the empire crumbled beneath the shadowy lands it long ago claimed without peer.
A vast empire that took millenia to forge, destroyed and crippled from inside within months, left no legacy behind for the rest of the world to know, but a small patch of its former self. These died, one by one, but some were able to persist, to maintain their heritage, and possibly cradle their imminent forebearer's destruction.
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Saerus breathed deeply, his lungs slowly clicking repeatedly. He glanced off from place to place, and usually saw many things inside his room that he normally did not. He was charged with a great task, but it wasn't something he could normally do.
His skills were restricted normally to the battlefield, but it was neccessary for him to partake in this task. He couldn't leave it, or else he would probably fail the objective.
He was nervous, and to step outside the boundaries of Jenrak made him careful, diligent, for he was told of great stories of the evilness that lurked in the world. Saerus took up his long dashy traveller's cloak, and his shining sword and pistol, and off he went, to further find more information that is most likely scattered in the world on his beloved nation.
Many places would not know Jenrak, a hidden country, an invisible remains of a dark power. Saerus was not proud of this certain history, but he was impressed by the resilience of the Empire's remains.
He stepped out his door, and fumbled deeply into his pockets for his keys.
"Where are they?" He asked himself intently.
"Ah." He pressed his fingers against a sharp edge, and pulled out a pair of long, periwinkle keys that slid tightly into the keyhole of his house, and the door clicked loudly.
Dropping them back into his pocket, Saerus turned around and gazed at the clouds climbing over the towers before he remembered to move on.
Footsteps were here behind him, but by ignoring them, he only furthered the speed of his pace. Something seemed to follow him, and the rattling behind him rattled faster with every second. The borders never looked so inviting.