[NS]Zukariaa
08-06-2007, 01:57
"...Zukariaa was a much different place than it is now. The people were spread out across the land, working farms for lords. The Emperor made sure that his power was felt everywhere by building the ruined forts that you see today across the country. The people were not united as they are today. They cared more about survival than the condition of the state." So began the old man. Robert Donton was one member of the group of listeners gathered around him. This man's stories were always unique and full of detail, as if he had been there himself. His stories took everyone away from the fact that they were getting wasted in a tavern.
"But something was coming to them that would force them to unite, or be destroyed, as history tells us they nearly were. A storm was coming for them. The Doomani."
3E1253 by the Zukariaan calendar
1253AD
Teran, Zukariaa
Joseph Donton had lived in Teran his whole life. He had also been working the same filthy field his whole life to pay his lord for the shitty shack that he was living in. He had hoped he would be done by now, but the lord constantly made up excuses to keep peasants around. Still, after his 16 hours of work, he took 30 minutes from sleep to watch the ocean. Teran had an excellent view, being a port city. Today was no different. The setting Sun was beautiful as always, and this brief 30 minutes were the only enjoyment he had in a day.
But today was different. He certainly wasn't enjoying himself. He looked down at the rusted dagger in his muddy hands, wondering how it would feel to have it's crappily made, jagged sides going into his stomach. Unfortunatly, it was all he could afford. He looked on the bright side, noting that, at tops, he'd bleed for an hour before dieing. Then he'd go to Aetherius. It was his only option, at least in his mind, for getting himself out of the life he lived. That was, until he saw what was coming towards Teran on the horizon. There were ships. More ships than he had ever seen. Maybe he'd go with them instead.
"But something was coming to them that would force them to unite, or be destroyed, as history tells us they nearly were. A storm was coming for them. The Doomani."
3E1253 by the Zukariaan calendar
1253AD
Teran, Zukariaa
Joseph Donton had lived in Teran his whole life. He had also been working the same filthy field his whole life to pay his lord for the shitty shack that he was living in. He had hoped he would be done by now, but the lord constantly made up excuses to keep peasants around. Still, after his 16 hours of work, he took 30 minutes from sleep to watch the ocean. Teran had an excellent view, being a port city. Today was no different. The setting Sun was beautiful as always, and this brief 30 minutes were the only enjoyment he had in a day.
But today was different. He certainly wasn't enjoying himself. He looked down at the rusted dagger in his muddy hands, wondering how it would feel to have it's crappily made, jagged sides going into his stomach. Unfortunatly, it was all he could afford. He looked on the bright side, noting that, at tops, he'd bleed for an hour before dieing. Then he'd go to Aetherius. It was his only option, at least in his mind, for getting himself out of the life he lived. That was, until he saw what was coming towards Teran on the horizon. There were ships. More ships than he had ever seen. Maybe he'd go with them instead.