RP archaeology

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uthas
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RP archaeology

Postby uthas » Tue Jul 21, 2009 7:46 pm

(( I just found this in my old email archives and thought people might get a kick out of it. It's the big reveal post from the Dispossessed. ))



When Renidus woke it was dark. Karan was gently shaking his shoulder, her finger pressed against her lips, motioning him to silence. What a strong jaw she has. It's pretty in a way. Odd time to have thoughts like this Renidus rose slowly in the dark, but Karan reached a hand up to hold him in a crouch. She gestured toward the door, and tapper her ear. The priest paused, and from outside came the clank of metal and the dull sound of blades on flesh. Strange. It's not violent enough to be a real battle. Almost sounds like someone chopping wood.


Renidus relaxed into the crouch, and slid back toward a corner away from the door. In the few days since he and Karan had been in the cabin they'd had plenty of time to become comfortable with it. Eight paces wide. Seven paces long. A span taller than my head. In the dark, the priest counted off his steps, as he listened to the dwarven paladin place herself between him and the door. He was always amazed by the dwarf maid's lightness of step when she wanted silence. It belied the force with which she swung her hammer.


The cabin they had been "guesting" in since their arrival in this Lightforsaken land was solidly built. Small dimensions and only one window made them feel cramped. Only one of them could walk the floor at a time, while the other sat upon the bed and waited. When they first woke, they probed the building in hopes of finding an opportunity to escape, and were surprised to find that while the door was locked and the window barred, it was locked from the INSIDE, rather than out, and the bars were fastened to the inside of the window. A short examination of their surroundings through the poorly blown glass of the window revealed their truth of their odd prison. The land surrounding the building was dead and desolate, the only motion the slight swaying of the still standing dead men surrounding them. The cabin was prepared to keep these dead men out, rather than them in. During the day, the dead remained quiet, but at night . . . The nights he and Karan spent huddled against each other, listening to the slow grinding of claws on wood. Renidus had wondered how long it would take them to whittle the door to splinters. They had all of eternity to try.


Karan held up one fist, barely visible to his weak human eyes in the dark. The sounds outside and stopped, and now silence hung over the room. Is this it? The end of my days? I'd thought I would finish more, make my life mean more. Have children maybe. I'd thought I'd be more frightened. Maybe I'm braver than I thought. Renidus suppressed a chortle at his own mental jest, and Karan glanced back at him once, hard. Breathing a deep, cleansing sigh, Renidus Funil prepared himself for the inevitable horror to come.


After a moment of quiet, a soft knock came from the door. After a moment, a slightly louder rapping ensued. Do they actually expect us to open the door and let them in? Renidus felt a nearly insurmountable urge to let his surpressed chortle blossom into laughter, and with shock, found that he was in fact laughing. "Well, why not?", he said as he stood and crossed the distance to the door, throwing back the bar. "Renidus . . ." Karan began, but to no avail. The priest threw open the door with a crash.


Standing just outside the door, arm still raised to knock once more, was a knight. Dressed head to toe in dark steel plate, the knight's face was covered by a lower visor, sculpted into the shape of a mummer's mask – half smiling and half weeping. Black, thick tears ran down the weeping side, while the madman's smile drooled the same from the corner of it's lips. Ichor, from the undead. Blood. Dead blood. Draped across the knight's blackened armour was a midnight velvet tabard, emblazoned in the center with a white eye, open and flaming. The knight paused for a moment, readjusting to the doorway suddenly filled with priest rather than wood, and lowered his arm, stepping back into a bow. As he straightened, a hollow voice echoed from behind the visor. "Master Renidus. We are here to escort you to the Father. Please come with us, and for your own safety, stay near."


The knight stepped back from the door with a half bow, and turned on his heel. Through the open portal Renidus could make out two perfect rows of knights, standing stock still, their backs to the door. They formed a straight column away from the cabin, through which the Knocking Knight, as the priest now thought of him, walked quickly. A hundred yards away the column of warriors opened into a circle surrounding several horses, corralled in by tall lances driven into the mud. A light rain, almost frozen, fell from the sky and echoed off of the armoured knights. None of them flinched, though water ran in streams into and through their plate. None of them are breathing. Light.


Renidus glanced back at Karan. Gazing at him with calm expression, he knew that she was waiting on his word. Stay or move. Karan's eyes seemed to bore into his skin, the patience shining from them a ram slamming into the force of Renidus's own desire for SOMETHINGANYTHING to happen. He knew that should he give the slightest nod, she would charge past him and attack the undead legion, unarmed and unarmoured. And when their cold steel was tearing at her body, all the while she would be struggling for just a few more seconds, to buy him time to run. If he only nodded his head. Renidus sighed. "We'd better go with them and see where this farce ends." Karan nodded, and moved past him out the door.


Their footsteps squished in the mud as they stepped out the door, and Renidus flinched as the icy rain hit him, immediately soaking through his robe. I hope this journey is short. As the pair followed the Knocking Knight toward the horses, each pair of knights they passed turned smoothly and fell in behind them. They became the crest of a steel wave, slowly building, bound to crash against some distant shore. Not too short.


The Knocking Knight was mounted by the time they reached him. Reaching out to wrench one of the lances out of the mud, leaving the wet earth slurping and squealing behind it, the knight tapped the saddle's of two mounts with his lance tip. Renidus approached the nearest with apprehension filling his gut. The first thing he noticed about the horse was its smell. Rank like days old meat, the flesh hung off the beast in strips, reminding him of a beef rack at market. Even the horses are dead. Does nothing live in this land? Pulling himself up into the saddle, he tugged on the reins gently, making the wight steed dance a few steps to the side. Still responds like a normal horse. Turning the beast further, he noticed Karan saddled, and the other knights levering themselves onto their mounts.


By the time Renidus had turned his mount back to face the Knocking Knight again, the others had pulled their lances from the mud and planted the bases in their stirrups.
"Where are we bound?"
The Knocking Knight turned his head to face Renidus. "Absolution. The Father wishes to see you, as I said before. Now come, we'll not keep him waiting." Turning his undead steed, the knight planted his heels through the creatures ribs. Renidus wasn't certain that the knight's feet had even touched bone, yet the creature moved into a steady canter. The priest followed suit, wincing as his heels passed the point he knew they should have stopped at were he riding a living beast. The company set out across the blasted and dead hills, leaving a trail of churned mud and rotting flesh in their wake.


The land surrounding the cabin was made of soft, rolling hills. Once they had been green with life, but now all Renidus saw about him was death. Withered brown patches of grass dotted bare mud earth. As they rode past one such patch the priest watched the clinging roots give way to the pounding of the rain and swirl away in the running waters. As the rain continued to pound down the land became a morass of slogging mud, yet the undead steeds did not falter. After a few miles the hills began to give way to steeper inclines; barren tufts of rock thrusting up through the soil and grasping at the sky. We've come far north in Lordaeron. North of the great bountiful famed fields.


They rode in a diamond formation, with Renidus and Karan in the center of the diamond. The miles turned into leagues as they rode, and Renidus grew numb from the cold. His freezing fingers had a hard time holding onto the reins, and several times they slid from his grasp. When his steed started to stray, or failed to turn in line with the others, the knights flanking him would crowd in on either side and steer him in the right direction. The armoured dead man on his right, a monstrous figure with a great axe strapped to his back, would then lean out and hand Renidus his reins back. "My lord should take more care.", the knight would say, and then return to his position in the group. After the third time, the great husk of a warrior simply stayed next to him and held the reins himself. Time slowed in the cold rain, and the world shrunk to being the ride. I must stay on. I must finish the ride.Over and over again he repeated this mantra, until that too lost its meaning. Then there was simply motion and the cold.


Renidus couldn't say how long they rode. It could have been an hour, or a year, or a lifetime. He only knew that when the ride ended, he was still ahorse, frozen to his saddle by a thin sheet of ice. His descent into oblivion was halted by the great knight's hand tugging on the reins in front of him, stopping his mount, and by Karan's hand on his side, gently touching his ribs. There was a brief golden glow from her fingertips, and then the hot pain of heat flooded his stomach and legs, igniting a thousand tiny needles to stab at him. He gasped and his eyes fluttered open and closed as his senses returned to the world around him, and he beheld horror.


This must be the camp they speak of. Dear Light, what has happened here?Around Renidus lay a camp of the dead or dying. The rain still fell in freezing sheets, and the traffic of the camp had turned everything surrounding them into a festering hole of sludge, slurping and sucking with the steps of their mounts. Bodies lay where they had fallen, some sinking in the mud, some collapsed on top of tents they had pulled down with them. Peasants and lords alike walked the camp from weak fire to weak fire, bringing water to the sick. Most of them were coughing themselves. A troll slipped in the mud as Renidus watched, falling hard onto an outcropping of rock. He rolled piteously for a few moments, trying to stand, before falling back and lying still. None moved to help him. The dwarf he had been walking with simply moved on to another fire, coughing all the while. Hell. Light help me I have come unto Hell itself brought to earth.


They cut a path straight through the makeshift village, the moving figures in front of them parting. The unmoving they simply rode over as if they weren't there. Renidus noticed that none of the mounts bony hooves trode on top of the bodies, however, even if they had to hop to avoid them. His teeth knocked together painfully the first time his own steed made such a hop. The priest looked back over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the source of his discomfort, and his eyes found the remains of an elven woman sprawled in what served as a road in the camp. She had fallen face down in the mud, and sunk far enough that only a third of her ears were visible. Enough mud was smeared into her locks that it was impossible to tell the colour. As Renidus watched, her body twitched. Once, and then again in rapid succession, her body quivered as if in a fit. Her arms thrashed about, and the ears peeking out of the muck swayed as her head moved side to side. At last her body gave one last wracking shiver, pulling her face up out of the mud, arching her back unnaturally. Renidus saw mud pour out of her mouth, not unlike the the frosting of fine cakes he had seen in Stormwind. Her eyes fluttered a few times, and when they opened for the last time, no sylvan orbs rested within. Instead the burning eyes of the Forsaken gazed out, meeting his own stare. Never blinking, never resting. The banshee raised her arms and levered herself up to her feet, never breaking gaze with Renidus. She was still staring at him when he turned away.


The dark company pulled up in front of the short watchtower that the camp grew out from. The only stone building in the camp, Renidus thought some of the tents they had passed looked more permanent. The rain pounded into the top of the tower and ran in sheets, splitting into a dozen tiny waterfalls. Fresh mortar dribbled down the sides of the tower with the rain, and as the priest watched a large chunk of stone slipped out of the wall and fell with a dull thump into the mud. It has a small portcullis on its gate, raised, and a steep causeway ramping up to it. The gate is probably rusted shut. One good breeze will have this thing tumbling down. They don't mean me to CLIMB it do they? He glanced back at Karan, who was looking at the tower with a disapproving frown on her face. Renidus felt a sudden burst of emotion for this stout dwarven lioness in his chest. In the middle of the blasted pit of Hell, she judges the construction of a tower. In that moment, he felt himself steady, as though he were ship righting itself after a wave. He flashed a smile at Karan, and saw her own mouth quirk for a moment despite herself. Renidus returned his gaze to the tower, and the the thin cloaked woman who was walking quickly out it's gate and down the ramp.


The Knocking Knight dismounted and bowed the woman, pointing back Renidus and Karan. The woman nodded once and turned toward them, waiting. Renidus slipped down off his mount into the mud, sinking up past his ankles immediately, and sighing at his lost shoes. He paused to wait for Karan, whom despite being half his size plowed through the slop twice as quickly as he. As they approached the woman she gave a curtsy, oblivious to the ruin around her. "Welcome m'lord and m'lady. I am Ilia. Come with me." She turned and moved lightly back up the causeway. Glad to get out of the rain, Renidus followed Karan as she started after. Behind him, the Knocking Knight and the others of his band lead their wight steeds back through the camp.
Renidus was blasted by a wave of heat as he stepped through the door into the tower, and the rest of his body began to wake with the same stabbings as his legs and gut. Laying an icy hand to his face, he could feel neither his face from his hand, or his hand from his face. Once in the tower, the priest was faced with a curved stair going up, and a closed door in the base of the stair, presumably going down. From behind the door he could hear a deep and rythmic clanging sound, of metal on metal. [/i]They'll be lucky if the root cellar doesn't flood, and whoever is down there doesn't drown.[/i] Ilia stood on the staircase, and beckoned them. "Just a little farther and then you may rest, I promise." She smiled a gentle, tired smile at them. Too pale. She's too pale. The straw haired woman turned and began to climb.


Rain ran down the insides of the tower as well as its outside, though not nearly as much. Single droplets and small streams flowed down the dusty walls, washing them clean in some places. It gave the tower an appearance of weeping. It wasn't a long climb in truth, on a few full turns of the stairs, but Renidus's burning legs were shaking when he reached the top. Karan reached out to steady him, and he closed his eyes and gave her shoulder a squeeze. He could hear the rain pounding into the roof of the tower, and found himself to be glad of its shelter. Breathing deep a moment, he steadied himself, and looked about the top of the tower. A few chairs, bound in leather, were scattered about the circular room that occupied the top of the tower. A bearskin rug lay in the middle of the floor, and a large fireplace built into one wall was roaring merrily away. A large table occupied the center of the room, upon which the priest could see a crude map of Lordaeron carved. Papers were scattered on the table, held down by bound and gilded tomes of various size. In the corner was a rude pallet, strangly out of place in the tower. An open door arch lead onto a small balcony facing the camp, and tattered curtains blew in from the wind and rain. The room fluxed from heat to chill at the whim of the wind, and Renidus felt himself flush from it.


Standing in the portal, gazing out in the night, impervious to the rain blowing in past him, was a small man. Long crimson hair hung down next to his face in braids, bound carelessly by uncaring hands. His dark brown skin gave him an exotic look in the north, especially with the colour of his hair, yet Renidus had never heard of this man taking a lover. Stories of a wife lost in the war, but those were difficult to believe after meeting the man. He was thin when last I saw him. Now I'd bet a penny for a bushel that wisp that showed us up here weighs more. His dark black robe billowed in the wind, but he didn't flinch. He never did.


Ilia curtsied to the pair and stepped back into the tower stair, padding downward silently, and leaving them alone with the man. The man the people the world over were now calling The Father stood silent, seemingly unaware of his newly arrived guests. Renidus coughed politely, but the man did not turn. He simply stared out over the camp, rain washing in over him on the wind. Looking closer, the priest could see his lips moving, as if he were muttering to himself. Renidus looked down at Karan, who gazed back at him, worry in her eyes. Turning, Renidus walked slowly across the room, skirting the table, toward the robed man. As he approached, he began to hear the tone and shape of the words coming from the darkskinned man's mouth, but could not make out what he was saying. No. Not saying. Singing. He's singing to himself.As he neared, Uthas suddenly spoke. "A song from my youth. The milk maid of Ambermill with eyes so fair, her dress on the floor and my hands in her hair." He gave a laugh, and turned to face Renidus. "Forgive me. You've travelled far and must be weary. Sit, sit." Uthas gestured at two of the leather bound chairs. "Daughter Ilia should be along soon with some hot spiced wine for you." Seeing no real choice, Renidus took a seat near the fire, and watched as Uthas took one near him. Karan remained standing.


Now that the man's face was near the firelight, Renidus could see the ruin of it. Where once he had inspired hundreds, now Uthas could frighten thousands. His face, his entire body it seemed, was etched with softly throbbing black and golden lines, tracing his veins. These black lines battled back and forth with the gold, all over, until the man's skin was a tattoo of shifting light and dark. Uthas did not seem to notice.


"I must apologize for the rough treatment you received by my sons and daughters. I know that you were injured, and for that I am sorry. A man in your position must understand, though, that sometimes the parent must hurt the child for its own good. Short term pain to avoid the long term ache later on. Yes, yes, I can see that you understand it quite well, being of the priesthood. They haven't abandoned all of their teachings I see." Uthas spoke quickly, a smile on his face as he focused on Renidus. "I wouldn't want to leave you in Stormwind, of all places. A pit of snakes, that place. No, worse even. Snakes simply act according to their nature. Humans have choice."


Renidus blinked. How is this man still alive? Uthas coughed, covering his mouth with a hand, briefly bending double in his chair. When he straightened he pulled a cloth from his robe and wiped his mouth and hand. The cloth was crimson when he pushed it back into his belt. "My lord Uthas . . .why have you brought us here?" The man had no claim to lands or title, but when surrounded by those who would die for him, or kill, Renidus thought it best to be prudent.


Uthas turned his head from Renidus and cast his gaze into the fire. The blaze burned high in the hearth, making the room near it almost uncomfortably hot. "Did you ever seen Lordaeron before the Fall, Renidus? The fields that surround us were so green you would think you were gazing upon a vast emerald. I had cousins from near here, field workers for some small lord near the Scholomance, some banner man to the Barov's. More in Ambermill in the Silverpines. Have you been to the forest there? It's aptly named; in dusk the trees shine like the blessings of Elune come again. No, I don't suppose you have, and these days if you did you'd not have the time to admire the beauty there."


"Aye my lord." As it happened Renidus had been to Silverpine, but there was no sense in arguing with the man over something this pointless. He's rambling. I'm not even certain it matters that I'm here, he might continue to talk anyway. Karan placed her hand on the back of Renidus's chair and stood next to him.


"The Butcher died tonight. I thought you might like to know that. I've heard he has caused you some trouble in the past. He almost took Tarquin ap Danwyrithe with him. It's still uncertain whether the boy will even live the night or not." Uthas's eyes were mirrors for the flames in the hearth.


Renidus breathed a sigh of relief, and then his brows furrowed. "Boy, my lord? I have met Tarquin upon occasion, and he did not strike me as being terribly young." Uthas gave a soft, mocking laugh. It sounded strange passing from his lips; Renidus had never heard of him to make mock of anyone. "We are all boys until our masters say otherwise, Renidus. No matter how far we run. Tarquin will always be looking for the nod and the pat from Shaw."


Renidus nodded politely. He sensed there was more to that than he knew, but this wasn't the time to pry. "Still, you must rest easier now that he's gone. I've heard it said that the Butcher went truly mad when word that you were alive spread. You are the one man he tried to kill and couldn't, his one failure." Uthas turned his eyes back to Renidus, and for a moment his brows raised in confusion. And then he laughed again, this time a short bark of a laugh. "You mean you have not solved my little riddle yet, sir? You caused me no end to trouble, to tell you the truth, with your questions and and pryings. Your persistance and ingenuity in your pursuit of my real killer is what first brought you to my attention."


The world around Renidus seemed to slow. He looked away from Uthas, away from that horrible ruin of a face, looking for any sanity he could find. His eyes found the fire, his ears the crackle and pop of the wood against the rain slashing onto the balcony. He tried to speak, but the words caught in this throat. He swallowed and tried again, this time with better success. "You. It was all you. The bodies, the words. By the Light, you paid for the Butcher to ATTACK YOU? Why in the name of the Light would you do such a thing?" A lamb I called him. I told the masters he would come meekly, that he was a man of the law. A just man, and soft hearted. This is no lamb. He is not even a lion.


"Why? Come now, Renidus. I didn't chose you for your pretty face." Uthas smiled, that same kind and welcoming smile that had pacified crowds. "Did you know that Fenria the Maid Martyr was the first funeral service I gave? I was asked by Mugrir Runehammer himself to bless the crowd. And bless I did, while her murderer looked on and laughed. Even in those days I had taken up the olive branch, and was searching for a way to end the bitter cold war between the races. But I looked on the Butcher, and knew that he was a mad dog. I swore to bring him to justice. And so I have done, after many moons. He served his other purpose well, and helped me with my duty. It was that very funeral, looking upon the faces in the crowd that gave me the idea of how best to use the dog, much later." Uthas shivered for a moment, and leaned closer to the fire, holding out his hands toward it.


Renidus opened his eyes, and turned his thoughts to the task. He had also been able to solve the puzzles the priests gave him faster than the other acolytes. That was part of the reason the White Order had approached him in the first place. Uthas had obviously not wanted to die, and he could safely rule out that he had hoped Nimjhal would be killed in the initial attack. He spoke of looking at the faces of the bereaved at the funeral. He had called her . . . "A martyr. You wanted to return a martyr who had died for your cause." Renidus looked at Uthas, and could feel the heat of the flames on his eyes as he looked in horror. Not a lion at all. Uthas clapped his hands softly, still smiling. "I knew that I had chosen you for an excellent reason, my son. Ah, our wine has arrived."


Ilia had returned in silence, her footsteps drowned by the flame and the water. She came forward at a nod from Uthas and set a ewer and 3 mugs down in between the chairs and the fire. "Is there anything else you need my lords and lady?" Uthas shook his head, and Renidus followed suit. Karan gave one quick shake of her head, watching the girl until she left. We are sitting and having wine with the most dangerous man in the world, and she watches the help for hidden daggers. She knows she can't do anything about Uthas, so she watches for things she may do. Even in the darkness her Light shines.


As Uthas filled the mugs from the ewer, Renidus spoke again. "I must ask again, why were we brought here?" The man who had been a paladin finished pouring the wine and offered the mugs to Renidus and Karan. They took them, but Renidus watched Karan shake her head slightly in the corner of his eye. He swirled the wine around in the mug, but did not drink.


Uthas took a long drink from his, and sighed as he pulled it away from his mouth. "I find these days that a good hot spiced wine is the only way to feel warm again. It is also so abysmally cold this far north, now that there are no trees to block the wind." He took his mug into both hands and once again leaned toward the fire. "I've brought you here for two reason, my son. The first is very simple. There will be many who do not understand what I've done, or why I have done it. They will dub me a monster, and strike my name from their books to be forgotten. I have heard you speak, and seen your pursuit of the truth. There is none better for me to leave my story with, none else who will render it as it should be told. I desire for you to know the man I am, Renidus, that others may also know."


"My lord, if it is an account of your life that you wish, any simple scribe would do. Why have you taken myself and my bodyguard captive here? It is insanity." Renidus swirled the mug in his hands, his eyes on the surface of the liquid as it lapped up the sides of the clay. Watching the mug was easier than looking at the mockery of a man beside him.


Uthas continued to sip at his wine, and relaxed back into his chair. The leather and wood creaked ominously, and Renidus was suddenly struck with the image of the chair giving way and dumped Uthas onto his backside. He choked back a nervous burst of laughter, miming a cough, and in doing so spilled some wine onto his hand. Wincing, he had his hand halfway to his mouth when Karan caught his arm. Looking up at her in surprise, she simply gave another shake of her head. No. The paladin sat in his chair with his eyes closed, seemingly oblivious.


"Don't you long for peace, Renidus? Dream of the day that this senseless killing will stop, and people can simply live as they choose without fear of the axe in the night, the flame in their rooves?" Uthas spoke wistfully, as if remembering a long ago summer day.


Renidus rubbed at his hand and angled his head up for a moment. "I'm sorry my lord?"


"Peace. True peace. Not a cease fire, not a temporary truce. A real end to the war that is burning in hearts across the world." Uthas sipped again from his mug, and then bent to set it on the floor. "It is ludicrous that we should be spending so much time worrying after what the Horde is doing, how many people they have in their army, what sort of equipment they have, when there are daemons walking about not two days ride from the very city of Stormwind. Our farmers can't even control their own Harvest Golems who have rised up against them in the fields. The very land itself is rebelling against us in our pride. And through it all we turn a blind eye, because it is easier to take out our fears and aggressions on our old enemies. We can't face the nightmares that we have helped make, so we strike out at what we can." Uthas coughed again, his face contorting into agony for a brief moment. The dark lines in his flesh flared, seeming to eat the Light in his veins before subsiding.


Renidus chose his next words carefully, weighing them in his mind before speaking. "The Horde still remains a threat, though. To our way of life, and to our children. They continue to expand while we shrink. They have two new cities, built in the last few years, that are flourishing. Half of Stormwind is boarded up, and the halls in Darnassus are empty. We fight not just to protect our lives, but our WAY of life. In twenty years Goldshire will be an orcish outpost, and Kharanos a Troll village. What do you expect us to do but fight?" He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, aware that the other man's gaze was now resting fully upon him.


"Preserving our way of life. An old argument, but with new words. Words I could not have chosen better myself, in fact." The words hung in the air with a weight all their own, almost echoing over the sound of the roaring flame. "If you had an opportunity to end this war, yet still preserve our way of life, our people, would you take it?"


"Of course, Uthas. Only a fool wants war."


"No matter what the c-" Uthas was cut off by the return of his cough, this time worse. Minutes passed with the man wracking himself, gasping for breath, and then having it forced from him once more. Renidus felt his mouth go dry as a bone as he waited and watched. If he dies here, whatever chance Karan and I have dies with him. When the fit eased, blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, dark and thick as sap from a tree. Once more the man pulled his kerchief from his belt and wiped away the blood. Renidus tried to remain calm. "Is it the plague Uthas? People have been asking us questions, and outside the tower I saw . . ."


Uthas looked away, towards the open balcony arch. "My time grows short. I thought I would have more, but the Light has been burning in me for so long now. There have been times where I did not think I would have the strength to do what it asked of me. Ever since that first day in the Goldshire inn, those first sweat soaked sheets, when the Light first came to me, showed me the terrible future that lies in front of us . . . I did not think that I had the strength. Just a little longer now, but still not even as much time as I wanted. I am so very very tired, Renidus. I have been carrying this burden, walking this terrible path of the Light for so long." Uthas turned to look at Renidus, and the priest would never forget the look in his eyes until the end of his days. The very pit of the Twisting Nether, the emptiness that Renidus had stared at for so long in his imprisonment, filled the eyes of the paladin. "If you could end this war, no matter what the cost, would you pay it?"


The sound of the fire dimmed away to a dull buzz, and the rain on the tower was drowned out by the slamming beat of Renidus's heart in his chest as the realization dawned on him. "You knew. You knew you were sick all this time. You've been SPREADING IT! By the Light! Your missionaries, the food, the blankets . . . by the Holy Light. Save us. Save us. Save us." Karan tensed behind him, and he realized that he was standing over Uthas, who still sat reposed in his chair.


"Think Renidus. No famine. No disease. No death. No sorrow. There will be no races to divide us. There will be no need to say farewell to those we love. The killing will stop. United, as one people on Azeroth, we shall rid our world of the corruption that scours it to the bone. The Legion. The Scourge. The Silithid. The Firelord. The insanity of the dragons. All will fall before our united might, as it must." Uthas stood to face Renidus, his voice raising in a slow crescendo. "There will be no need of graves, no need of sad songs. Our fathers and brothers and sisters and mothers will stay with us. No one will raid our villages to kill the babes in arms. The young can run and play in the sun forever. They'll never need to have their dreams shattered by growing old. We will be at peace forever!" Uthas moved forward as he spoke, driving Renidus before him with the sheer force of his words. Spittle replaced the blood at the corners of his mouth, and fire replaced the emptiness in his eyes. Karan stared mutely at the raving man, staying at Renidus's side as he backed away. Finally the paladin came to a halt, next to the table in the center of the room. Renidus and Karan continued to move away, sliding around the table, putting it between them and the madman. For what seemed an eternity, silence reigned in the room, the two parties staring at each other, the distance between them wider than the Maelstrom.


It was like this that Ilia found them when she returned. She entered the room quietly, pausing to take stock of the situation, and then quickly crossed to Uthas. "My lord," she said with a curtsy, holding out a sheaf of paper with two foot long curved pieces of bone resting on it. "You asked for this to be prepared and brought to you as soon as possible." Uthas continued to gaze at Renidus for a moment, and then turned to Ilia, kindness replacing the stark look on his face as quickly as a summer storm. "Of course my dear." he said, taking the paper and the bones. "Thank you." Ilia curtsied, and turned to leave. "Just a moment, daughter. I shall only be a moment with these." The girl turned, and as she did, Renidus caught a glimpse inside her blouse as it billowed in the wind through the open arch. A terrible, open wound stretched across her chest, gaping and raw, but no blood came from it.


Uthas laid the papers on the table, and set the bones to one side. As they rolled back and forth for a moment before coming to rest, Renidus got a better look at them. They were just over a foot long, curved with a broad base and tapering off to sharp points. The base was a brighter white than the rest, as if it hadn't been as weathered. Tusks. Those are the Butcher's tusks. Uthas bent over the papers and began to read. "Hmmm....the High Shaman of Sen'jin has asked me to pledge him aide in fighting the insects in the south. A noble cause, but not the mission that the Light has entrusted me, I'm afraid." His spoke in an absent fashion, as though the previous outburst had been forgotten. Perhaps it had. Renidus and Karan waited quietly while Uthas began to pen a response.


"The High Shaman of Sen'jin." Uthas chuckled as he wrote. "An auspicious title if ever there was one. But, he deserves it. Matsu'jin has been giving his people guidance as long as I have ours. A long time for the both of us." Uthas signed the bottom of the paper he wrote on, and then folded it up and handed it to Ilia. He moved on to the other papers on the desk, and sighed as he read them. Glancing up at Ilia, he said "It is time?" Ilia nodded. Uthas sighed again, and began to move through the pages one by one, signing the bottom of each.


"There was a time when the land hovered on the brink of total chaos. After the last war, the people's of Azeroth seemed poised with one foot in the grave, ready to climb in and bury themselves. And then we rode out of the dawn on a crystal morning, singing songs bringing forth our terrible weapons. We pulled the hopes of the people back from the darkness, and breathed into them Light, even those of us who's mien was terrible. Heros they call us now. Heros. I call us crutches. As long as we abide in the land as we are, the common people will never seize their own destiny. We have given rebirth to their dreams, yet they want us to deliver those dreams to them. No, it is time for them to walk on their own, without their artificial legs underneath them. Only then can they find their strength." Uthas continued signing, and as he did he began to read names. "Vapula, the Dark Child. Prydion son of Pryderi, the Lily Knight. The Kull. Edward and Lilleanna Steele. Rakor the Blood Rider. Fane the Winter Wolf. Moholith Wisehorn. Some living, some dead. Blackpawn, dead in some ditch. Fenria the Martyr Maid. Raels Twice-Touched, burned at the stake. Degmarlee the Worm, vanished into the jungles." The names began to come faster. "Arcane, Tsoshen, Melicity, Lothloriel, Shirkata, Andi, Rane, Mulciber, Nikolai, Silver, Dardon, Chelody, Ultang, Mugrir, Homrend, Jest, Azi, Tarquin, Ceil . . .too many to name. But named they must be. We rode out of the dawn, but now our sun must set, that the night may fall, my night. A night which will end in one final dawn, bright and beautiful, that will last forever." Uthas finished signing the last of the papers and handed the stack to Ilia. She curtsied, and said "They are ready for you, m'lord." Then she turned and left, innocent, or uncaring, of the doom in her hands.


Numbed from shock, Renidus simply watched the paladin as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The tremble of a cough passed through the man's body, but he seemed to tense for a moment, the Light in his veins flared, and the quake passed. Uthas opened his eyes, and shrugged out of the simple linen robe he was wearing. As the robe opened around him, and slid to the floor, it took with it the frenzied and confused man that had occupied the room. The shoulders straightened and became unbowed, the head was lifted high, and the face relaxed into a pleasant and reassuring smile. Underneath Uthas wore only a simple pair of pants, belted with a thin cotton rope at the waist, but the cold blowing in from the arch did not seem to touch him. He looked at Renidus and hims widened, becoming even more welcoming. "Come." he said, and turned toward the open arch. Renidus could almost believe that all he had seen until now was some kind of mad dream, a result of being struck on the head. Until he gaze found the pair of tusks lying on the table. He sighed and followed Uthas out onto the balcony.


Immediately he was assaulted by the rain, cold enough now that it was becoming sleet. It stung his face like needles tearing at him, and he squinted his eyes against it. Holding up his hand to shield himself, he looked out over the edge of the stone and saw a legion. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people assembled at the base of the tower in the freezing cold rain. Some buried up to their calves in seeping mud, members of all races watched the small barechested man, a tiny figure, really. Their faces were filled with adolation and devotion. Renidus could only imagine his own face was filled with terror.


Uthas spread his arms. "Friends. Sons. Daughters. It is time at last. I know you have suffered. I know you have felt fear at what is to come. But there is no need to be afraid. You have lost fathers. You have lost sons. You have lost sisters and brothers, mothers and daughters. You have shed your own blood and that of those who stand next to you. The time has come that no blood need be shed again."


Renidus watched the crowd, hypnotized by the cadence of Uthas's speech. He recalled once saying to the man, "The world really does seem a better place for ten yards around you, doesn't it?" Despite all that had occurred, that still rang true. As Renidus watched, people in the crowd fell to the ground as Uthas spoke. A dwarf here, a tauren there, slowly sinking to the ground as if going to sleep. After a moment, each would rise, the fervor in their eyes replaced by a burning light, splitting the night with it's brightness. And Renidus was not afraid. The words of the man next to him lifted him away from his fear, and brought his mind to the comfort that he had been missing. Not a sheep not a sheep not a sheep Over and over the priest repeated it to himself in his mind, insulating himself from the poisoned words.


"It is time. My daughter is returned with me, and she brought me the final portion of our road to peace. From the depths of the Undercity she has brought this, a needle to pierce the iron defenses of the city of death. And pierce it she did. My Jaini has returned, and brought our salvation. It has gone out with the final wave of supplies. Soon, my brothers and sister, soon there shall be blissful peace over the land. No more shall the swords sing their siren song. There shall be only sweet silence." Uthas turned, and looked at Renidus. "Look at them, my son. My people. Your people. You asked my why I brought you here. From the first moment I heard you speak, I knew that you were to be the one to carry on my work. My time is short here, and I will leave a rift behind me in my wake. I cannot hope to stitch closed all of the wounds in our land. I have simply started the task. I will go with my Unblinking Eye to the north, to defend us from the dark ships of ice and iron I have seen. You must take my place. You must bring about the final piece. So the Light has shown me. So it shall be." The madman gestured for Renidus to return inside the tower, and as he passed underneath the arch, Renidus felt himself stepping through the gates into Hell.








Hours later, Renidus and Karan left the tower. Renidus carried with him a bound journal, slim and simple. Inside it was recorded the life of the man the world knew as Uthas, the preacher who spread Light to the world. Soon they would call him by other names, yet for now they moved about their lives unaware. The pair had been given their leave, and even had their equipment returned. The trusting smile Uthas has given Renidus as he sent them on their way sent chills up the priests spine even now.


Horses, living ones, awaited them outside, fully packed and saddled, ready to depart. Renidus knew that in one of the saddle bags was a single tusk, upon which a simple runeword had been carved. "Justice.", Uthas had said as he fingered it. The paladin had asked him to deliver it to the boy king, that all might see that justice could still be done in the land. "Have them hang it from the gates.", Uthas had said, and laughed.


Renidus mounted, and looked at Karan. She spoke, for the first time in what seemed like a century. "Let's get the hell out of here." Renidus nodded, and the put their heels to their mounts, and spurred away into the night.




All across the land, in the cities and towns, the coughs grew worse and worse. At first it was simply the old and infirm, or the young, but as time passed, more and more grew ill. Always those who had parten in the supplies from Absolution. A blanket in one home, food in another. Pots and pans used in an outpost camp, warm cloaks used in a guard tower. The cough started, and then stopped with finality, and those afflicted rose again. They rose again and began their long trek north. To Absolution.




((


Now, What on earth does all of this mean?


Well, first and foremost: Uthas, as you can see, is a villain. He always has been, since his first conception. Throughout the last year, whenever I saw a "Where are our villains?" post pop up, I'd have a good chuckle. I always wanted to respond to them, but had to hold myself back. You can't work on a plotline for a year and then blow it all on a whim, after all :)


What does it mean in terms of server rp, etc? Well, that depends.


If you choose to go along with the story, these are the results. Uthas has been spreading the plague via his missionaries and his supplies. Everyone in the camp of Absolution has been affected, and dies over the few days following Nimjhal's death. The same goes for many people in the cities and towns of the world. As a PC, you can choose to interact with this plot in any way you choose. You can be affected by the plague, you can have loved ones affected, you can run around killing the plagued people if you like :o) YOU ONLY CATCH THE PLAGUE IF YOU WANT TO. While I had many a good joke with the people who were "in" on the plot about suddenly just shouting "U ALL GOT WOWAIDS LOLOLOL", I'm not about to actually try to enforce sickness on anyone's character. This is meant to be used as an interesting plot device for you to work with if you so choose. This plague is a MUCH weaker version of the original undead plague, so you can be around it as much as you like without ever catching it. Diseases are funny that way.


In addition, the other free floating and persisting plot I've introduced here are the death warrants Uthas signed. If you've been playing your character for more than 10 months, you have a warrant for your death, signed by Uthas. That means you have crazy zealots looking to kill you. Again, this only applies if you feel like using it. If you want to retire your character, this is an easy way to do it. If you want to kick the asses of some assassins, feel free. If you never want to deal with this, go right ahead.


That's the most important part I want to emphasize about this. If you don't like the plotline, just ignore it. It's all cool. Obviously the more people that take part, the cooler it can be. But if it's not your cup of tea, or you think it goes against the lore too much or what have you, just don't play along with it. Again, this is presented as an opportunity for everyone who WANTS to to take part.


A few guidelines. Five days after the death of Nimjhal, the camp of Absolution will be abandoned, so if you're going to interact with the camp, it needs to be within that time frame. Don't kill anyone's character unless they agree to it. I can foresee this spawning a LOT of rp based conflict, with various groups of people martialing to war. More power to you :o)


If you have any questions, feel free to run them by me and I'll answer as best I can.


So, once again, for those interested parties. I am calling out to you: impress me with your stories. I dare you :o)


))
A rhombus is the kind of rectangle a bitch would draw.

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Dravir
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Location: British Columbia, The Frozen North

Re: RP archaeology

Postby Dravir » Tue Jul 21, 2009 8:04 pm

((Having only heard stories of this second and third-hand, it's very intriguing seeing the original post. I tip my hat most seriously to you, sir.))
Avers: My God, the Anals o Darrowshire is a pain in the ass when you have four chicks who need it.


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