View Full Version : Unnoficial Storyline Contest!
09-23-2009, 09:11 PM
Ok, so I lost the beta contest, and I really didn't like the winning beta contest, so I'm gonna have my own contest!
IMPORTANT NOTICE: THERE ARE NO BETA KEYS TO BE AWARDED - IT IS JUST FOR FUN
Ok, not that that's out of the way, lets get down to the requirements and parameters of this contest:
-You will first tell the setting and background of your story (location, characters, ancient history of the area, etc.)
-Then, you will give an OVERVIEW of the storyline (may include new races, other areas, and new characters you haven't listed - list them after you use them though.)
-Leave the storyline open for more! That way, if the storyline were used in the actual game, the story doesn't have to end if people want an encore.
Please put these storylines into consideration for alternate campaigns or mmo storylines, w/e.
I want this in the same format you would give a contest submission :)
09-23-2009, 09:27 PM
Title: To The Unknown
Location: In the western part of the Wold.
On a rugged hill, an old man with a wizened visage kneeled over a large grave. Next to him stood a large tombstone that depicted a man that had just reached middle-age. "I remember when you were a young boy, running with your friends. When you grew into a young man and stopped working in the fields to find your fortunes in the rest of the world," the old man said. He weeped for a moment, then looked at the corpse and smiled. "You always had to help others with their woes, didn't you? You had to better other people's lives before your own or even for your own, as it so sadly happened." The old man's thoughts whirled back to how it all began.
The young man looked over at the landscape, taking in its rugged beauty and untamed majesty. He stood atop a hill that lent a great view of the distant mountains. He turned around and looked now at the numerous villages that dotted the plains surrounded the great hill. On top of the hill stood largest city for many, many miles(if you could call the meager hamlets of those not of royal blood a city). He sighed at the sight. The rich king living in the most luxury in all the land, while his subjects lay groveling in the mud just outside his doorstep. The man started down the hillside with one intention in mind. To free the folk of the land from the tyrant line that had ruled the land for centuries. Every tale he had heard of the king was filled with either anger at his selfishness and his neglect of his people, or full of admiration and praise for such an achievement as conquering the vast land he now controlled. It was easy to tell who was telling the truth, everyone but those who were appointed by the king spoke ill of him.
He walked into town and found to his surprise that it actually had an inn. He trudged through the muddy streets to enter the building, and found it to be rather nice. It was well-lit and had a comfortable atmosphere and had chairs and tables to accommodate over a score of patrons. It was nearing night so he sat on a stool at the bar and asked the innkeeper for a room. After he had negotiated a modest price with the innkeeper, he moved to sit himself at an empty table. There were about a dozen other patrons in the room. He noticed in particular a group of five near him talking in hushed tones about the status of the kingdom. "Rebellions brewin', the people won't stand for any more taxes and many don't stand for the ones now." a middle-aged, rather large bald man said. "That's hogwash!" Another man said. "The king keeps an army ready to kill any people with a rebellion in mind." The other man shook his head and replied, "The people already die due to the taxes that make them give up anything that's worth anything. They don't have any food, little clothes, and no money." The other man looked at him and shrugged, saying. "Anyway, who would lead the people, they would die in less than a week." The bald man nodded and said, "Aye, no one is stupid enough to die for something that won't happen."
The young man stood up then and turned to the group. "It isn't foolish to fight for the betterment of others, it is the best cause I know of." The bald man snickered and said, "So you will be leading the rebellion eh?" The youth replied with a firm and determined answer, "Yes."
The next morning the man awoke and ate breakfast quickly. He walked outside and saw that a group of people were gathering around what appeared to be a set of gallows. "These two men," shouted the constable. "Were caught stealing from the town armory." continued the constable, gesturing towards the stone armory, the best-constructed building in the town. "Now normally, this would only constitute a severed hand, but they were stealing them to instigate a rebellion!" The people hardly gasped, such attempts were becoming more and more common. The constable motioned for one of the two soldiers that flanked him to slip the nooses around the men's necks. The young man moved closer to see who they were. His eyes widened in amazement as he saw that it was the two men who he heard talking last night. He looked at the three soldiers who were about to execute the poor men. He looked down at the solid branch that he used as a walking stick and then looked back at the men. It was worth it he decided. He pushed his way through the crowd and edged toward the soldier that was fingering the crank eagerly. "And now these men shall pay the price for their folly, they shall die for trying to fight against our beloved king who has protected for years," the constable said as the soldier moved into position next to the crank. The constable started to turn and give the order to pull, but a man suddenly leaped forward and smashed a staff across the soldier's skull. The constable stood in amazement for a moment, but drew his sword the moment crazed man moved toward him. The other soldier ran toward the man with the staff but was intercepted by not one, but four leaping peasants. The constable quickly surveyed his surroundings and ran the only possible way, through the crowd. The fool, though, didn't realize that all the crowd was joining in, and he was inundated by a sea of screaming peasants. The three soldiers were easily overcome by the angry mob, who now looked to the young man as he began to untie the two men from the gallows.
The young man noticed their gazes as soon as he turned around. "People, will we just sit here, content to roll around in the mud while the king, not but 2 miles from here, sleeps in a warm, soft bed, content to become richer and richer by taking every single thing of value from us? Why do we not rise up to overthrow the tyrant from his throne and get food, houses, and money? We must rise up and kill him before we all die from lack of food or medicine or shelter! We must stir up everyone who will listen to us! We must bring them together in a united army and kill all who would grieve for so foul a king!"
"That's how it happened," said the old man, coming out of his reverie that the memories had caught him in. "That's how you led the rebellion, a young lad of no more than twenty." The old man burst into sobs but sobered quickly as he gazed upon his son's face. "You managed to split the kingdom in two, the smaller east being held by the king's army and the much larger one held by the people. You led the people against the king for twenty-two years. If only you weren't assassinated by a traitor, but don't worry the traitor was slain by your second as soon as the deed was done, a moment too late, though. The day after your death, there was a grand funeral, and the day after that, we charged through the center of the king's army and stormed his palace. Our kingdom is free. You did not die in vain, son. You will not be forgotten, but though your name is on this tombstone, I fear that it will be forgotten. Your brothers and all your brother's descendants will remember your name, I will make sure of it. But to everyone else, they will merely raise up a cup to the unknown hero that saved us all." The old man stood up, and started off from the hill. He stopped suddenly and reached for a waterskin that was on his belt. He raised it over his head and said, "To you, Malith. To you, the unknown hero."
P.S. I have updated this post and completely rewrote the story into an entirely new story.
09-24-2009, 03:30 PM
Good Darathor. Although, you said it was an elven "man" right? :p
09-25-2009, 12:23 AM
Ill probably come back to this an expand on it once i have a few more ideas so just bare with me for the moment :)
Title: Paradise Lost
After a particularly bad year centuries ago the survivors of a massive battle between orcs, humans and elves flee the destruction of their homelands looking for safety in far off lands. The three groups wander for many years in an empty wasteland so barren the survivors degenerate into simple tribe societies and forget much of their history. Eventually the three groups wander out of the vast desert and come upon a untouched land of pristine beauty. The three tribes happen upon each other, and not knowing any of their own history are amazed that there is another group of sentient beings. The three tribes welcome each other and together they form a small town on the edge of a vast river, surrounded by the untouched wilderness which would become their homeland. Over many years the city of Wandaren becomes a mighty bastion of culture and learning. knowing not of their races previous history the city is completely alone and fears nothing from the outside world. Together the three tribes are one and the same in peace and prosperity. The city of Wandaren has nothing to fear.....except itself....
One day an adventurer from a far of human kingdom happens on the city and is astounded at the co-operation the orcs, humans and elves show towards each other. The adventurer tells the city of their peoples history and cracks start to appear in Wandarens unity. Distrust and fear causes the Wandarens, united for so many years, to again split into their tribes. The city erupts in fear fueled violence and the shining metropolis degenerates into a brutal battlefield for the remnants of their once great city, the dream of unity and a society based on peace and co-operation is crushed under the heel of emerging war machines. Will your people stay and fight to the bitter end for the scrapes of your fore-fathers, or will you flee your homes and lick your wounds and recover for the final assault on your homeland? The choice is yours but the question remains, who sent the adventurer to break the union, and why did a society which had stood strong for centuries collapse under the weight of a few years? Simple fear, or something far far darker....
The main characters would probably be leaders from each of the "tribes" and possible an evil figure or group who caused the break up of the Wandaren society for purposes unknown.
09-25-2009, 03:06 PM
Good Darathor. Although, you said it was an elven "man" right? :p
Yes. It did.
09-25-2009, 06:15 PM
Lol Darathor, at the end you said "She searches to this very day", but it was good besides that. :)
VERY nice Ironic. It seems like a very complicated storyline. Must've taken you an hour or two. :)
09-25-2009, 08:02 PM
Lol Darathor, at the end you said "She searches to this very day", but it was good besides that. :)
VERY nice Ironic. It seems like a very complicated storyline. Must've taken you an hour or two. :)
thats only first part though
ill try and expand a bit more on it latter
09-26-2009, 06:58 AM
For 20 years Duke Reinhart has served his king with grand vigor and bravery. Commanding vast armies, he has led his nation to many victories. His superiority on the battlefield is remarked by the fact that he has led charges personally and is never found on the rear of this army.
On the peak of success, a terrible event has transpired. The king, his closest friend, was found dead in his sleeping quarters. The murdered lord was poisoned, and had hemorrhaged during his sleep.
The King's advisor was quick to direct accusations towards the Duke, claiming Reinhart wished to absorb his lordship's mantle, as there was no heir.
In an event of weights balancing, the Duke was able to escape execution by orchestrating an uprising. As things turn out, the army never turned their back on their battleleader, and were happy to oblige in aiding his escape.
As the kingdom is desintegrating under corruption of the advisor, while under pressure of a neighbouring Necromancer and his host of undead minions. Duke Reinhart has gone renegade with hundreds of warriors. In the far West he has settled and tries to build his own kingdom, hoping to return prosperity back to the lands he once swore to protect.
But it won't be an easy task. As the Elves swore vengeance on him, as the wood of their forests were salvaged to build Human settlements. Even the Orcs have turned their attention to the Duke, thinking there are many spoils to be gained.
09-26-2009, 10:08 AM
one man against the world...betrayed...determined....ready....
09-27-2009, 01:35 PM
At the far end of the world, west of Dunn Norst just below the mountains lies a small human empire. Forged together by strong will and constant threats and the city Brighning. Brighning stands as a knot to all small human villages around and also as the constant suppressing force against the orc threat that always ravage this country.
The orcs in these parts of the country never grow strong becouse of their internal strife for small patches of land but now it seems that this have changed. An orc warlord by the name Orgur Thunderstrike has risen and managed to unite some of the orc tribes, normally in other regions this wouldn't be such a big threat but if this orc would manage to rally all the orcs in these parts he would grow so strong that even Brighning, the only city that even cares for these lands, wouldn't stand a chance against him.
At this moment Brighning is not even aware of the orc warlords movements, Orgur have planned his campaign carefully not to awaken any stronger forces against him, not until he have rallied the orcs that is. But until he can manage to do that he must prove to the orcs hiding inside the mountain that he is powered by the gods that he is their King. So he travels around plundering small villages, not leaving any witnesses and at the same time building up an army, an army strong enough to eliminate the humans that have been a thorn at his side for such a long time and so he can finally build his orc kingdom, Citadel of Thunders. A bastion for all the orcs in the north.
Will you join Brighning in their attempt to stop Orgur or will you join side with him, finally releasing the chains that so pulls the orcs down in these parts of the lands, so that they finally can be released and patch together a land to call home.
09-27-2009, 04:11 PM
Nice convoluted storylines guys (it's a complement - means complicated in this sense :P). Also, very nice Chaoticus. Bikkebakke, I like the campaign mode your story presents - maybe the campaigns that come from these stories will be rts', but will be like an rpg in that you have choices? Very nice concept. Keep 'em comin :) . I might have to make one :P - *sneak peek* One word. Dark Elven uprising :D
09-28-2009, 09:20 AM
hmm that dark elf idea got me thinking of a new story (no not about dark elves but containing elves) ^^
Just guessing that you can write more than one :P if so I got one coming right up.
09-28-2009, 06:17 PM
Alright you can write one more (hint: tell us if you are going to edit or expand your previous story) Thanks for not taking my idea :P . That reminds me, noone do dark elves, at least not till i've done mine (might be a bit, I have a lot of other stuff going on right now XD - that just means that it'll be all that much better for the wait :))
09-29-2009, 08:01 PM
In an age far past, the ancients were of 2 paths, equally loved and equally acceptable. One was the way of death and destruction, seen as a natural half of the cycle of which the other path, which was life and light, was also part of. All the races practiced each of these two magics to some degree or another, but none was more proficient or incorporated both into their lives more than the elves. Unlike other races, which only saw death magic as a way to destroy their enemies, the dark elves (for that is what they were called, even if they looked exactly like the other elves), or those elves that followed the dark side of life, took it into their responsibility to use this magic to ease the sufferings of those dying or writhing in pain and speed their souls to the afterlife, to the grand source of all life. The high elves (they were very sure of their righteousness, although they were only one half of the circle) were assigned the opposite responsibility to save those that could be saved, to cure diseases, and to serve their natural purpose, such as by growing farms with speeded growth, making life-giving rain fall to the earth, and other such things. As was also natural, these two groups, fulfilling opposite sides of the circle, were in constant conflict with eachother, like the two halves of yin and yang in our world.
One day, the high elf Toram got it into his hot air baloon of a prideful skull to remove the dark elven side of magic and the circle altogether. He set to scheming, and by the end, he had convinced all that the dark elves had been corrupted in their task to speed the soul's journey by performing what he called necromancy, enslaving the soul to their own will. What was not known was that he had been the one to orchestrate such a grotesque torture show, and had done it as an especially detested dark elf bent to help a dying man's soul to the afterlife. He tried to protest such an accusation, but the pride-blinded high elves took this as evil and treachery, killing every dark elf found, driving the rest into hiding deep beneath the earth.
Through centuries of seperation from, and an intense hatred for your long-removed high elven enemies for centuries, your dark elven kind have evolved into something different from the high elves. You have developed extremely pale skin and hair that is bleached white from long removed access to the sun. Obviously not the physical features, you, the dark elves, have changed in the meaning of your name. You are dark, not because of death magic, but because of the corruption and desperation and enmity that forced you to use the newfound art of necromancy to survive in the harsh underground environment.
Now is the time to EXPLODE from the ground. Now is the time to STRIKE DOWN those that betrayed you, from right under their pompous noses. Now is the time for VENGEANCE on those that wrongfully killed your kind and drove you to unspeakable acts of necromancy, a corruption of your creed. You, Dalaar Rak'zalon, must lead your people, the dark elves, to victory and destroy any that stand in the way of your conquest!
09-30-2009, 03:34 PM
Nice :D really nice, I see why you wanted them for yourself >,>
I will try to blend my new story with the old one >,<
maby as when you have managed to clear my first campaign this one will start :P
**I wanna play as dark elves xD they are sweet :D
09-30-2009, 05:43 PM
Ty bikkebakke :D , but for your next story could you try to use better grammar? :P . Your last was good but could you just run a manual spell check or somethin? :rolleyes: I spent close to an hour on mine so ty lots :P
10-06-2009, 03:54 PM
Comon guys, why'd the thread go so ghost-town all of a sudden? Comon, comment, put some more stories in, etc. :confused:
10-16-2009, 04:33 PM
Bikkebakke thought you were gonna make another story what happened guys? :(
10-16-2009, 05:52 PM
Got nothin' better to do so...
In the current times, blood is spilled rarely and the orcish tribes are under control, as well as the elves do not acknowledge our existence, I sometimes wonder why the fields I stand on are red from blood since not even the orcs would be that blood thirsty.
I write this letter to the council from my tent in the forward camp settled in Isilly, forest region said to be held by the fountain of miracle, I am general Soidfelld, I was sent here with my men to check all of the sudden attacks on the surrounding villages, leaving only ash. This seems very odd, first, humans wouldn't be foolish enough to kill themselves, elves could care less about us and much less fight, those pussies. This couldn't even be the work of Orc's, those careless things leave a lot of flesh from their banquet behind and usually just loot the homes. I can sense this is something else, something not human, nor elf...not even Orc.
I'd go on, but I'd figure I'll leave you guys waiting some more so you get a bit upset.
10-19-2009, 01:25 PM
Very nice. Also, and I don't know if this is what you intended, but could that possibly connect with my campaign in some way? ;)
10-19-2009, 02:16 PM
Okey here you go cybroxis
Four centuries ago there was a battle between Orcs and elves of such magnitude that stories is still being told about it, from the orcs perspective they speak of it as a sacrifice for the gods becouse they do not wish to admit it as an open defeat but the elves sing of it as an victory for all goodly beings. They sing especially strong about an elven wizard called Alderis Mothra, the most powerful magician that have ever existed throughout the ages, was it not for him the elves surely would have lost against the hundred of thousands of orcs amassing against them.
It was even a rumor that he was so strong in the arcane way that he had been able to foresee his death and before the battle he had left a book that is said to contain a most powerful spell that can restore life to the barren earth that the coming battle would leave.
One young wizard read about this in a storybook high up in a shelf in an old library, he read it and found a small clue, one wich actually got him to find Alderis book after surprisingly small effort. The book contained an incantation and an instruction on how to activate the spell.
So the young wizard set out to the famouse battleground, went to the exact spot on wich it is said Alderis grave was and started the incantation.
IF the book would have been found by a more powerful wizard he would have seen through the spell and destroyed the book but Alderis was not that stupid, he wanted everyone to believe his book was just a rumor, to believe that Alderis strength was fiction, made up to strengthen the look of elves, he wanted someone foolish to read about that story, to read and try the spell in hope of restoring dead lands... Becouse the spell did restore life... but not the life of the dead landscape but the life of a long dead Wizard. Aldreris had found a spell in wich he can be resurrected, a spell that is a forbidden art for the elves and that is why he couldn't let anyone powerful find it.
The young wizard finished the spell.... looked anticipating at the ground, then it cracked, he jumped up overjoyed and with a smile, a smile that soon died when he saw a skeleton hand digging through the dirt. The wizard started to run but soon found himself dangling above ground, hold up by a spell conjured by the long dead Alderis Mothra, a spell that slowly sucked the life out of the wizard and was added to Alderis, slowly restoring portions of his body, strengthening him.
Alderis dropped the fool on the ground and smiled. In his death he had walked across planes unknown to man, he had gained knowledge long forgotten... he had even learned to raise the dead to serve him. And with a mumble and a wave of his hand ground cracked and he raised 100 soldiers from the old times. The spell of ressurection takes a lot of effort and even Alderis can't raise as many as he wants, but if he just can raise one hundred he can teach the spell to another of his minions so he can raise another ten and in this cycle he will gain an army that is undeniably loyal to him, if they rebel against him he could just seize the spell that grants them undead life. With this power he will get an army that will never complain, that will never have to feed and will never stop.
Alderis is set to slay all living beings and paint the ground before him in blood for Alderis Mothra has seen death and he loved it...
*The ressurection spell is not the exact same spell as the little wizard used to ressurect Alderis, The spell the wizard used took back the soul of Alderis from the plane of death/hell, but the ressurection spell just raises the dead to follow the one who raised them, in the beginning they will be an empty shell that contains the most basics thoughts, they know how to battle and walk and talk and things like that, but as time progress they will become smarter. And due to that Alderis can teach them the ressurection spell (well not everyone can learn it but some can) and in turn they will raise soldiers to follow Alderis. As in battle it will be somewhat useless to attack normal skeleton soldiers, to permanently kill them the summoner must be destroyed, for when he dies they will just fall dead... again.... and if Alderis is slain all of the undead will just fall dead...... again....*
eeh i think read through it but its hard to find mistakes that you created yourself>,< so feel free to complain :D
holy sh*t this story got long... and i wanted it to be longer :/ there's a ton of details that you can add but damn it would be boring to read then xD
10-19-2009, 02:19 PM
Was a pretty nice read actually.
10-22-2009, 05:07 AM
The land is Valahia, a land divided between warlords, different nations and different cultures. The savage clans of the orcs in the nord / the human kingdoms in the west / The magical realms of the elves in the east / and in the south the black sea.
You are the only son of an old village chief. As time has come for him to pass away, your father summons you for a one last time. With his dying breath he invests you as his heir. Your time has come. How will you rule?
Until now your village was part of small Dukedom from the Raven kingdom, and such you’ve benefited of the protection of the duke and of the king armies. Your ties with the world were slim; your people were simple shepherds and farmers until now!!
Lately the surroundings changed, the protective armies were seen on a more rarely basis the bandits became bolder, the orcs were on the move.
1. Take Up Arms!!...Lead the militia! Support your Duke and rise in the ranks as you fight as one of his vassals. Support him to take the throne.
2. Take Up Arms!!...Lead the militia! Use the momentum to declare your independence from the Duke!! Conquer/convince other villages to join your rising Dukedom. Obtain the investment from the King.
3. Take Up Arms!!...Lead the militia! Use the momentum to declare your independence from the Duke!! Conquer/convince other villages to join your rising Dukedom; transform it in a kingdom as you battle/ negotiate your way to power.
4. Continue the way of your father. Raise your sheeps, plant your crops, pray that by becoming an economic power in exchange for money the Duke will protect you.
10-24-2009, 07:48 AM
The bored orc children sat around the old shaman on his lore-mat while he recited the names of those killed in the siege of Darssen.
When he had finished he asked " Now what do you wish to hear of little orclings, the ambush of the Merental river or the battle for Uttal Atras?
"Derakaaaan" said one of the children "why can't you tell something more interesting."
The shaman answered, quite angrily "These things are important! You need to know these things!"
"Why" asked another older child
The shaman said wearily “Very well. What do you wish to hear?"
"The saga of Farkun!" yelled all the children at once.
"Ok, I think this is how it goes...."
In the small orc town of Borkentak, in Brakental an orc was born that would shape the future of Mythador. This orc was smaller than average for an orc but still larger than a goblin. Because of this he was taken into the desert and left to die when it became apparent that he would not be as strong or as large as his siblings. After hours of wandering in the desert he came to an oasis and there he drank the clear, cool waters. After he swallowed his first mouthful the waters suddenly went dark. A few seconds later an image appeared in the waters. It was a map and on to the map fell a spark, as if from an invisible flame. The paper caught fire burning large holes in certain parts of the map.
Then the map disappeared and a flame leap from the oasis to the orcs body and he was knocked unconsious.
When he woke he found he was in a tent with another Orc knelt beside him.
The orc was dressed in strange garb for an orc, a red and yellow robe with orange trimmings.
The kneeling orc, seeing the other orc was awake, got up and said "I am Gershak (Knower) of the Aksun (Rememberers) and we found you knocked out in the desert. You were burnt and scarred. Speaking of scars you may want to look at your chest."
The orc did so and saw that burnt on to his chest was a mystic looking rune.
"That is no ordinary scar" said Gershak "it is a mark from the old sky flame. It means you shall one day be a great ruler. But for now what is your name?"
The orc then replied "I don't have one". Then Gershak replied "Then you shall be know as Farkun, the scorched one. Now you shall join my tribe and learn the old ways and the chants of sand and rock and fire!" and with that he placed a circlet of bronze upon Farkun's head.
For thirteen years he stayed with the Aksun learning the ancient orc lore, how to use a sword and bow and the most important of all, tactics and how to command effectively. Farkun excelled in these arts but by far he was best at tactics. In combat he made up for his small size and relative lack of strength by being cunning and nimble.
When the time came for him to come of age the tribal council held a meeting about whether or not he should become a full orc.
It was decided unanimously that he should.
On the 15th of the month, when the tribe usually had the moon feast the ceremony took place.
The entire tribe sat in a circle on the ground, around the fire pit and Farkun was given the only seat and in came Gershak wearing a robe of scarlet, gold and saffron and around his head was a circlet of dragon gold from Sssilistra.
In his hands was a circlet of silver. This he put on Farkun's head, after removing the bronze circlet.
Then Gershak turned towards the unlit fire pit and threw a ruby the size of an eye into the pit.
Suddenly, flames shot up from the pit into the air and the feasting began.
To be continued...
10-25-2009, 02:39 PM
Very nice, all of you :)
Also, bikkebakke, an easy way to do spell check is to do it in mozilla firefox :P
it does it automatically :)
10-25-2009, 03:00 PM
It seemed like years ago that D'Shara first met with his long-forgotten cousins. He lived in a simple town, a community so large some might call it a city, even if half the residents were dead. Alive, but dead.
He remembered it as if it were the day previous...
He had just completed the resurrection of another of his people's Dark elven dead. In the past, he remembered putting them to an endless sleep, but times were hard, even for the humble Dark elves. After the "Fracturing", even betrayed as they were, his people were never violent, and would never think to use these dark arts for bloodshed (just because they were dark, didn't mean they were evil, you see..). However, instead of the dreamless "Sleep", his people had changed, and so had their dead. The dead walked.
No, not zombies, nor evil, malevolent spirits. Rather, they were the spirits of Dark elven citizens (if their town could be called a city) put back into their own bodies. But that is a discussion for the meeting of 2 colleagues at the Darken academy.
Back to the action at hand. He had just finished the sigil, and Dun'Arak rose. A clap of the hand, and he went back to work. The newly risen undead "helper" happily went to serve the people with which he had shared a peaceful, happy life.
Now these "Dark elves" come to his peaceful village. They ask his people to participate in a "revenge" against those that his people's ancestors had once completed the cycle of life with. His people may not like it, but, it didn't seem they had a choice. With their loyal, intelligent, undead, they had become invaluable.
-Rebel against your "cousins"
-Go along until the time is right
10-27-2009, 03:28 PM
Okay, so. Once again, this is a "non-profit" contest - just for fun (and maybe the devs will use these stories? ;) )
You can make your own, or make one that plays off of the storyline of another person or one of you own (be sure to tell which one).
So, it's up to you - the focus is creativity (but try to be neat and have correct grammar as much as possible (firefox autochecks Hint* Hint* ;) ))
There is no "termination date" as of yet, because as of yet there are no beta keys to be release :) . If the devs think different, they will say something. However, for now, this is FOR FUN. Just be creative.
11-02-2009, 05:50 PM
Soooooo, anything new you guys have been cooking up? :confused:
11-02-2009, 08:53 PM
I just redid my story as I said I would.(It's in my original post on the front page).
Also, in my original silly story, I said it was an elven man but then said she at the very end. I was alluding to how some people say elven men are quite feminine.
11-03-2009, 06:14 PM
Hmmm, ok I'll buy that :P . And besides that, your story is VERY well done - you must have spent hours on it. :) .
So, guys, I wanted to try a change of system:
We will make a story, and then we will "popcorn" onto someone else.
This person will have to continue the storyline, and leave room for more. When I think a story has gone on for long enough, I will tell you so. Leave room for more, but go onto a different story.
Because we have so many stories right now, someone will say "MINE" and whoever says it first will get to have theirs "popcorned" off of. You may choose one of the users that have already posted (make sure you like their writing style).
So, yeah, that's what we'll do. BEGIN. :D
11-08-2009, 02:25 PM
Cybroxis, a couple of people threw your idea off in another thread as ridiculous, but I think some really nice storylines have been made up here. good job all, & kudos to you cybroxis for starting it. :)
11-08-2009, 03:38 PM
Your stories are nice of course but what you said in the shoutbox was just too harsh. Also the reason you weren't recognized there is because noone visits the site yet.
06-03-2010, 07:23 PM
Once, in a land far gone and long lost to history, a mysterious place existed. There were those that lived below, cast out and shunned by prideful beings above, forever going about their daily torment, living with it as best as they could. Never understood by others outside their slightly fragmented race, as they were thrown down into the pit, they finally had found a family.
With time, old hatreds and old bonds shifted. The roles had been flipped. Their race, banned for millenia, had changed into something not quite Kormin. To be seen would be a horrific site to behold. However, although many saw these creatures as "undead", they are not evil, nor really dead. In fact, it was the "creatures" above, they say, that warped them into their now strange forms. Before, only pariahed by their peers in thoughts and ideas, now they truly were different, able to be marked out physically with the naked eye. not only had they no antennae nor hands, but they also lacked eyes, ironically more aware of their surroundings than those above, who possessed the luxury of light. Their ears, although not extremely large, could compete with a dog's for their pitch. They cupped around at the top and ended in a sharp curve at the bottom, a "v", in such a strange way that was also unnaturally perfect. But the characteristic most noticeable would be the white carapace which surrounds their humanoid form, not quite slimy, but not an exoskeleton either. Not quite invincable, but the equivalent of a shield - it could withstand a broadhead's impact or 2 days in a scorching oven. This skin is the best physical characteristic to represent them. It required understanding of their past and the suffering the Vak'ti endured for so many years, chafing at their very souls until they became as hard as a stone drenched in sunlight for decades. This was also required of them if they were to survive in the bowels of Dera'Mur.
But now, possessed of a single purpose and propogating for thousands of years underneath their oppressors, the Vak'ti were prepared to take back their rightful lands from the Kormin, who had, to the Vak'tis' atvantage, forgotten their existence after all these years. The drums of war were sounded, battle plans laid, and the drills started.
What came next was laid into history, an event to rack the world with its magnitude and intensity for all time....
06-04-2010, 06:59 AM
um, I have never seen this thread before - can we have a re-hash of what it is for please? [explanation].
06-04-2010, 09:16 AM
um, I have never seen this thread before - can we have a re-hash of what it is for please? [explanation].
It's just a thread where you come up with a story that takes place in Mythador. It's for people who like imagining up adventures and feel like telling them basically.
06-04-2010, 09:59 AM
My English is not the best but i will try to write at least a bit.
Title : Mythador, Legends of time
Charakters that are in the story yet :
Althanir ( Elf sorc adept )
Erethear ( Althanirs friend and an Elf sorc adept too )
Tharaden ( The Teacer and master from Althanir and Erethear, he is one of the mighiest wizzards in the land )
Book 1 , page 1
It just need peace and harmony to bring destruction and corruption...
Even the longest peace has an end. Even the peaceful people can become
Warlords. Even the time has an end...
An end, that will come over every world, every race and every country...
But not now...
Book 1 page 2
Althanir ? Wake up !
Althanir waked up and watched at Erethear, his friend.
Althanir was a young Elf adept, he was learning the ways of Magic together with his friend Erethear.
How late is it ? Im damn tired !
We have to go if we dont want to come to late, said his friend.
Wait a moment i have to look for my clothes...
Guy ! Tharaden will be very angry with us if we come to late again !
Tharaden was their Master, he teached them everything he knew.
He was one of the mightiest Wizzard in the Land.
Im ready said Althanir and both where on the way to the Academy.
Althanir watched into the heaven and was sank in thoughts.
Just 2 Weeks Althanir ! 2 Weeks and we are real Wizzards !
Yes we are, answered Althanir. Althanir thought about nothing else since they
became Adepts. A real Wizzard... a mighty wizzard.....
A bit later they arrived at the Academy.
Althanir ! Erethear ! You are to late !
Tharaden awaited them.
We are sorry master but...
No ! I dont want to hear your talk out of !
Tharaden was a strict teacher, but a very good one.
This is the 4th time in a row, but if you want to be real Wizzars you cant allow yourselves coming to late !
Now let us start !
Althanir and his friend followed him and started the training.
Ok guys, i know this is not the best english and not the best start of a story,
but its just my first try and im not finished yet :D
06-04-2010, 10:26 AM
Book 1 page 2
Althanir knewed this procedure.
First he had to do simple casts, then Tharaden asked him about the history of casting and about the first Wizzards that brought the Magic into Mythador.
After that Althanir had to do some harder casts. But it was easy to do for him.
Nice Althanir ! But you know that Casting isnt just waving the Hands ! It has to do with your mind too, you need a strong mind and much concentration if you want become one of the best. Tharaden wasnt impressed but at least he was satisfied.
Now you Erethear. Erethear did the same like Althanir.
You became really good Erethear, you trained didnt you ?
Oh, yes Master, answered Erethear.
You both are really good. You dont need to fear the final examination.
After a couple of hours Althanir and Erethear were on the way home.
They had to cross a forest. The forest isnt threatening but this time Althanir feeled something.... a dark pressence.
Althanir ? Is something wrong ?
Nothing he answered. Its nothing...
But Erethear knewd Althanir good and he feeled something dark too.
They walked along a path through the forest, they used that path every time but it seems something is different know...
Yes ? Althanir was watching at Erethear.
You do feel something dark too, or not ?
You did noticed that, so yes i do...
We shouldnt stop walking, im sure its a test from our Master, if we can keep the rest.
Youre right Althanir, said Erethear and they moved further.
Wait ! hm ... ? What is it Erethear ?
I think i saw something over there !
No i dont think that...
But look ! Erethear did not even let Althanir finished his sentence.
Now Althanir saw it too. A dark shine.
The young elves were going toward.
The Pressence they feeled all the way was much stronger now.
So thats my start of the Story.
Its maybe ( as i said before ) not the best english and story start but im still not finished. I got lots of Ideas how to continue it.
06-04-2010, 12:03 PM
Cybroxis and blackfall, You both have interesting stories and I would like you to continue them.
Blackfall your English isn't too bad, just some minor spelling. A lot of Americans whose English is their first language is worse (I now a lot). Ever hear of ebonics:D ?
06-04-2010, 12:19 PM
i have much time this weekend, so i definetly ( xD ) will write more :)
But im happy that my story is not that bad :)
06-04-2010, 12:36 PM
i have much time this weekend, so i definetly ( xD ) will write more :)
But im happy that my story is not that bad :)
since i am bored to death this moment i will try myself at writing something again:p Just gotta check through this thread and see if it is worthy of seeing my words:rolleyes:
06-04-2010, 02:25 PM
Characters: Jeraard (human survivor)
Jainin (elven traveler capable archer and swordswoman)
Ron (travelling merchant and employer of a small party including Jainin and Moradar with his soldier group)
Moradar (The leader of the mercenary unit that helps a certain merchanta person with ulterior motives!?)
The first sunrays came up from beyond the peaks in the snowy mountains, all the way down to the lush little forest on the very outskirts of the known domain. As it lit up the forest the birds began to sing, it was a beautiful composition fit for kings. This morning seemed extreemly bright, except for the pillar of smoke that rose through the skies. The last of the screams died away as the fire began to retreat back until there was nothing left but rubble and ashes. On the outskirts of the town there was a broken sign and it said on the teared piece, Emon Adian. Emon Adian was the last post for any merchant and no armies ever went this far out in the land, what could have happened. Three days later a merchant group arrived. All to see what had happened so Ron decided that they would try and find out why this had happened. "Moradar, would you please ask you men to search for any clues?" At first Moradar seemed reluctant however he gave in and yelled, "search this forsaken town. I want to know what happened." The soldiers gave a salute and started searching. "Jainin, would you please help them?" Ron asked with a smile, Jainin was the only person in the party that was actually employed by Ron. The rest were mercenaries that a lord had employed for him to take him to Emon Adian. Jainin did not say a word but just started looking around, to the left there was something that looked like a blacksmith however as everything else it was burned to the ground. The only thing that was not completely burnt to the ground was a a small church on the edge of the village. Very close to the thick wall, inside was complete darkness the likes that gives people chills.
(too be continiued if i bother:p ) Afk sleeping:rolleyes:
06-04-2010, 02:27 PM
Woooah, old thread.
It's also not really a contest anymore, since cybroxis left.
06-04-2010, 04:31 PM
Didn't you see the story I posted? Man.....
Also, very enchanting Black Fang. But....please...look in a grammar book :)
You show wonderful imagination in that piece, but it's a little hard to understand. Keep up the good work! :D
06-04-2010, 08:41 PM
Ah I didn't realize you were the one who bumped up the thread, my bad.
06-04-2010, 08:59 PM
Thanks :D .
06-05-2010, 05:01 AM
Althanir and Erethear were in the deep forest now. It feeled like they had the longest journey of their time behind them, but they still saw the path from where they came.
Althanir ? Do you really think this was a good idea ? No I don’t, but now we are here. The Dark Presence was very strong now. And the both Elves had the feeling that someone was watching at them, or something…
It was not long before they reached the root of the Presence. But in this short time Althanir had the feeling that he has never been this far away from all. Allthough Erethear was near him.
Althanir saw a dark Crystal.The young Elves sat down and watched the Crystal.
Is that the thing we looked for ? Erethear looked at him expectanly. A dark Crystal… What do you think it is, Althanir ?
I don’t know… but it have the feeling that it is more then we think. We should go now!
I had the whole way round the feeling that something is wrong. We should never have come here.
Erethear had Althanir never seen so serious.
Come on ! It´s just a dark Crystal with a Dark Pressence, said Erethear.
Or do you think its an Artefact of the old time with endless power that will give us the might
To get the world controll ? You don’t believe this fairy tales´s, or do you ?
Maybe I do…. Answered Althanir silent. Silent vote sounded around the two friends.
Quiet and threatening… Where does that come from ? Hello ? Someones there ?
Erethear got no answer. Master Tharanden ? Silence…. The silence felt so threatening that it seemed the world would sank in her.
Althanir´s inner voice told him that its time to get away from here.
Althanir ran the way back from where they came. He took no account of Erethear.
That was perhaps the biggest error he committed….
But he was not thinking about that now.He ran further and further until his hometown.
But this Crystal, the fact he let Erethear back. The time for Peace was near and end now…
The time for Harmony began to broke… The time began to end…
Althanir didn’t know where the Crystal came from, or what he achieved.
But he should learn it in the near future…
Ok, right now im at a point where i see that my story start would become muuuuuuuuch to long. So i did a cut in here :D
i will tell you how the Story ends :)
The middle of the Story you can think of yourselve. But i hope theirs enough potencial for expenses and unexpected events.
But the End of Story would be the End of the peace and harmony too.
So heres the End :
The War devastated the world... The Elves lost their great Power, lost their great Future... the Dragons disappeared and those who where able to stop all this madness where nowhere to find.... or dead. Stories tell about the return of Althanir. The people tell you that he will return and end all this madness that is now in the world...
Some people even say they saw the mighty Tharaden riding on a white Horse. And the Dragons of course.... what happened to them ? Got they destroyed by the War ? Or did they left the lands, to see everything end ?
But the one who never will be unforgiven... the one who did brought all this Chaos in the world... His name is forbidden to say, his mind in the Eternal Abyss banned... Maybe he is the one that can end all this Chaos and Corruption...
Im really happy about the end :D
Its may not the best Storie but the fact that english is not my motherlanguage says it all. If i would be able to write it in German it would be much better :) At least the Storie is ok for a guy who is 15 :)
06-05-2010, 05:52 PM
Sweet story. The fact your german does explain the grammar lol
Nice work! :D
06-05-2010, 09:11 PM
I do not have time to work on my story [in the lore section - Neg's Story]. It got a little past me, I don't have the time to work on it. Does anyone want to continue it? If so, just post so. I will say what I had in mind for the rest of the story, but up to those that continue it to work through it and decide what is best.
10-25-2010, 09:51 PM
As the Vak'ti readied for war in the dark pits of Dera'Mur, the Kormin inhabiting the lighted ground far above obliviously prattled and debated human suffering (ironically, the worst example of the subject was caused by the very philosphers arrogantly strutting above it). They whiled their days away through vane luxuries and enjoyed the pristine natural beauty of the land they inhabited. Of course, they were not satisfied with this, being the avaricious beings that they were. No, they ever complained about their blissful life, the indolent boredom of having no needs and nothing to do. Surely, the eminent Vak'ti invasion would serve as a useful awakening agent from their torturous repose.
However, not all of the Kormin were as oblivious as thought by the warped Vak'ti - in fact, one, named Vulen, was much different from the rest, possessing their eyes and yet the inquisitive, calculating mind of a Vak'ti to appreciate their power and usefulness. He remembered the injustice of the Vak'ti's imprisonment and saw the harbingers of their resurfacing - small cracks in perfectly aligned desert ground, small quakes that couldn't shift a plate, and an ominous dark cloud cover that threatened lighting, thunder, and torrents of acidic rain...
The same paradox between race and person was evident in one the elite drilling mage and technician squads, the Vy'krul, in the Vak'ti - her name was D'Kamora. But do not let this set-up mislead your mind that this was a classic love story - oh no, for indeed these two were vehemently opposed, but paradoxically in the ways contrary to their races. D'Kamora was much more artistically minded than the other Vak'ti, resulting from an unusual access to the world above through a pinprick sized hole in her bedroom. So the "Kormin" D'Kamora and the "Vak'ti" Vulen were opposed in thought in ways contrary to their nature. However, they indeed were in love, as will be seen by generations after them, as the only example of peace and understanding between the incredibly hostile two races......
What came next could not have been predicted by any...
Please feel free to continue the story - BUT DO NOT REPEAT THE STORY OF ROMEO AND JULIET :mad: - I cannot stress this enough, people. Have fun with it though :D
12-14-2010, 08:49 PM
Sorry, been pretty busy with the beta lately, but if anyone still wants to post stories and comment, you're free to do so (or even continue on with my story above :D)
srry for double posting
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