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  1. - Top - End - #1
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    Default Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    The western reaches of Rhödödendräk are girded in ancient forests, nourished by picturesque lakes before sinking into the morass of Swampum. Or at least, so it was before the coming of the Storm Bird. A massive swath of that forest now lies in ruins, its trees either burst to splinters or torn from the ground to lie like fallen soldiers on the field of battle. The twitched mass of the Leviathan's corpse fouls the waters of the lakes, and the stench of ozone and slaughter in inescapable. Resting atop the burning husk of the Leviathan, the Storm Bird seems more mountain than beast, burning eyes closed in respite, wings tucked at its side. It is a strangely peaceful tableau, until some urge takes the great beast and it lets out a piercing scream, calling down another bolt of lightning to strike some yet-living part of the Leviathan. Many miles separate the Storm Bird from the meager force of its visitors, and yet as the interlopers pass the edge of the devastation they are left with the disconcerting feeling it is aware of their approach.
    Last edited by TheDarkDM; 2021-01-23 at 04:13 AM.

    I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
    The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
    I was old in those epochs uncounted
    When I, and I only, was vile;

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    Quote Originally Posted by apocalypsePast2 View Post
    ...one could possibly refer to you guys' elaborate dance of allies-to-enemies-to-suicide-of-the-universe as some sort of weird art form.

    If one were on drugs.
    Quote Originally Posted by VonDoom View Post
    Behold, the mighty slayer of strangely coloured mutant equines! The thwarter of forum woes! The! Dark! DM!

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    Ces was dressed in his winter trekking outfit, thick hides and a fur lined hood. It was incongruous with the torrential weather that assailed Rhödödendräk, but after his successful defense of Kursaal, he had planned to trek further north into the frozen tundra to continue his search for the Storm Bird. Yet, when he had seen the lightening fractured sky streak its way south he knew that he had to double back south. Following, the ozone trail he found himself entering Rhödödendräk, the landscape blown down into splinters and gouges in the dirt. He trudges forward towards the storm, the wind and rain battering him and matting his fur and his white beard down slick and heavy with water.

    He presses on for he promised his mentor a long time ago a single feather - a feather perhaps against which to weigh his past sins, he might have recovered his sanity, but the insane thought that this single quest, pledged on a garbage heap, would redeem his life. Walking further, alone, he reaches the great creature. Awed and trembling before the Storm Bird, the immensity of it striking him as war cries once struck themselves against Kursaal, the smell of the Leviathan's still dying form surrounding them like a tableau out of nightmare, he notices that each single feather is perhaps larger than he was. He looks up and sees the Bird's electric eye staring at him and he steel himself for death as he shouts to make himself heard over the crackling lightning and the gale force wind, his void deepened and wearied by age.

    Great Storm Bird, I congratulate you on your hunt!
    Last edited by mystic1110; 2021-01-23 at 03:58 PM.

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    Homage Closed-Fist Mudmore was just about done with all of this. In his life time, he'd done what he considered to be many good things. He'd made friends with former foes, created new territory for the Protectorate, and defended his homelands from upstarts and pretenders. He had two major concerns that he knew the Ancestors wouldn't give him the time for. The first was crushing the Crimson Kingdom into the dirt where it belonged. His grand plan was working, but it did not seem he'd be alive long enough to see it to fruition.

    The latter concern, however, was more personal; the vengeance for his grandfather's killer, that had been denied to all Uzii. Oh yes. The Storm Bird was a mighty beast. Anything that could call lightning from the sky deserved to at least be treated with caution, if not respect. And Closed-Fist would be among the first to admit that the Storm Bird had power. The Leviathan it now fed upon was no laughing matter. Only the most dim witted Uzii warrior would have tried to take on the literal tidal wave of a creature without help. But the Storm Bird was able to do it. Perhaps with a few wounds, but the mountain of an avian had struck down the wave. And also the Amaryllis Dragon.

    Which was the problem. Perhaps a petty one, yes. But Death-Grasp Mudmore had become something of a legend in Swampum. An Homage whom charged in the face of a Blightspawn and - so the stories went - wounded it on the way down it's gullet. Closed-Fist's grandfather had a noble death. The current Homage could remember being a young leader of a much smaller kingdom and for a short while, lusting over the idea of being the one to strike down the Amaryllis Dragon for good.

    To suddenly hear of an even BIGGER creature wrecking havoc as it, in turn, devoured the Blightspawn? To find out that his chances to exceed Death-Grasp's glory by felling the foe that felled his family were lost? It was a heavy blow that a younger Closed-Fist struggled with for years. Now, with the advantage of wisdom, he knew such thoughts were folly. He was willing to let it all pass...

    ...but then the Leviathan happened. Rhödödendräk was ripped asunder in many places. As the leader of the Protectorate, it was Closed-Fist's duty to deal with the problem. To encourage the Storm Bird to take it's prize and go, or find some other solution that would hopefully prevent further damage to the Homeland of Farming Stones.

    So Closed-Fist had put his greenish-brown armor on, grabbed his favorite spear, and called for an old friend to come with him as an honor guard. And as aged as the Homage was feeling these days, he had to admit that the former Tusker, but still Shaman, Deep-Sigh Thumpstrong was looking older. The two of them were both more grey of fur than any other color these days, but at least Closed-Fist was able to walk upright. Deep-Sigh was leaning heavily on his staff, and the Homage was too polite to encourage his friend and advisor to walk faster. They moved at the pace that was convenient, these days. Deep-Sigh would travel as quickly as his body allowed, and no slower. A burst of speed in emergencies, perhaps, but the elder Shaman was now better known for raising his whelps in a much warmer climate.

    Closed-Fist looked back at his old friend, and noticed that Deep-Sigh had stopped. They were near the Storm Bird's face now, and had not said much since finally coming close to the great avian. Yet they were not quite close enough to be comfortable to speak with the confounding creature. "Deep-Sigh? Why are we stopping?"

    The aged Shaman closed his eyes and sniffed the air, "Homage, I smell someone who hasn't bathed in months."

    "How can you smell anything in this Blighted weather?"

    "Ah, because I know this particular familiar stench." Deep-Sigh smirked, his eyes still shut. Opening them, he began to move with energy that Closed-Fist was suddenly struggling to keep pace with. The ruttin' codger had been holding out on Closed-Fist! Taking a leisurely stroll in the rain, when they could have made much better time. Now Deep-Sigh was the one in a hurry, "Come. We are not the only old fools who want to try to speak with the Storm Bird."

    Closed-Fist shook his head, and used the butt of his spear a bit more to help him keep up. They were coming up to the eyes and beak of the Storm Bird, and suddenly could hear another's voice.

    "-orm Bird, I congratulate you on your hunt!"

    Ah. Of course. That would explain Deep-Sigh's smile. It was Ces Arnif, the one known as Mask-Punch. Here to fulfill the old Shaman's suggested quest of many years ago. Homage Closed-Fist couldn't help but start to grin a little himself. He added his own voice to the din, "Agreed, Ces! This is quite the catch. I greet both of you, as the Homage of the Protectorate; a sworn protector of these lands. Mighty Storm Bird, many have sought you out. If you are able, and willing, we would speak with you."
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    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
    Before you insult someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
    That way, you'll be a mile away, and have their shoes!

    Got me a Real Job™ (yay!). Still busy (boo!).
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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    A burst of rarified air escapes the Storm Bird's beak as Ces and the Homage address it directly. Far above the three adventurers, ice-rimed lids break open to reveal the beast's white-hot eyes, electricity dancing into the clouds from around pitch-black pupils. A shriek pierces the air, and as it passes over them the adventurers hear a weary, bitter voice resonate through them.

    "SO YOU CLIMB FROM YOUR MIDDENS AT LAST. I FEARED LINGERING HERE WOULD INVITE YOU TO DISTURB MY REST."

    Feathers the size of river boats ruffle in a wind, or perhaps summon the wind with their movement. Repositioning its talons, the Storm Bird dips down to better consider Ces, Closed-Fist, and Deep-Sigh.

    "WHAT DO YOU WANT, INSECTS? WHAT MORE WILL YOU ASK OF ME?"
    Last edited by TheDarkDM; 2021-01-26 at 03:10 AM.

    I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
    The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
    I was old in those epochs uncounted
    When I, and I only, was vile;

    Spoiler
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    Quote Originally Posted by apocalypsePast2 View Post
    ...one could possibly refer to you guys' elaborate dance of allies-to-enemies-to-suicide-of-the-universe as some sort of weird art form.

    If one were on drugs.
    Quote Originally Posted by VonDoom View Post
    Behold, the mighty slayer of strangely coloured mutant equines! The thwarter of forum woes! The! Dark! DM!

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    Ces's clothing begins to seem more appropriate as icy sheets fall from the Storm Bird when it opens its eyes and the air turns cold with its speaking. Ces cranes his neck to look up at the creature, and perhaps begins to realize how foolish his request would sound now. This was the Storm incarnate. Yet his promise and quest has been his guiding light for decades now - he could no more turn from this path than go back to the bottle, the wine, the insanity and his imagined angles and demons. He would not head down that road again and if his chosen destination laid beyond this creature - if it laid beyond the veil of life should he cross the Storm itself - so be it.

    Ces yells, trying in vain to make his voice the equal of the swirling wind:

    Aye! You deserve your rest - you felled a mighty foe. We . . . you don't live in Kursaal without picking up some flattery. It is often said you catch more sacrifices with sweet flower wine than bitter . . . only ask to help extend your rest. You are mighty and we are only insects as you say. Perhaps . . . and Ces tightens his left hand around his hilt, already frost covering it, but it is well oiled with much experience in the North. Sweet wine is pleasant, but everyone know how quickly one can end up drinking bitter droughts . . . you may leave us with a single feather. Even such a small piece of you may perhaps let us stop more blightspawn from waking you from your slumbers.

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    The Storm Bird blinks, showering the surrounding landscape with hail, as it turns its head to examine the trail of destruction leading to the sea.

    "MY FEATHERS CARPET THE COAST FROM THE LAND OF WALKING TREES TO THE EDGE OF YOUR SELF-INFLICTED MUTILATIONS. ONE MORE SACRIFICE MADE TO YOUR KIND. WOULD IT NOT BE EASIER TO FETCH ONE OF THOSE, RATHER THAN DEMANDING A BOON FOR NAUGHT BUT DEFERENCE?"

    I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
    The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
    I was old in those epochs uncounted
    When I, and I only, was vile;

    Spoiler
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    Quote Originally Posted by apocalypsePast2 View Post
    ...one could possibly refer to you guys' elaborate dance of allies-to-enemies-to-suicide-of-the-universe as some sort of weird art form.

    If one were on drugs.
    Quote Originally Posted by VonDoom View Post
    Behold, the mighty slayer of strangely coloured mutant equines! The thwarter of forum woes! The! Dark! DM!

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    Ces couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it as he look around him. Even from this vantage point he could see that the Storm Bird spoke true - its colossal feathers were strewn through the devastation - clawed from its own hide by the leviathan. They would flutter in the wind if they were from a lesser bird, but these were large enough that they took flight on their own and were own captured by trees and boulders. After all these years, after trudging through the North and even after foolishly facing the beast itself - he could have only bended over and picked one up. He shook his head and looks at Deep-Sigh and wonders what the old shaman would think of that. It would be clever, yes, and Ces could just ask the Shaman, but he had lived with this quest for over a decade and it meant more to him than simple word play. Picking up a fallen feather would mean nothing. He looked up at the Storm Bird with resignation and incredible disappointment. With his geas is seeming tatters, there was a word that the Bird had spoken that resonated with Ces - Ces with his broken past, Ces with his fractured misery - he quietly asks:

    Self-Inflicted?

    And could only hope the wind carried the question to the Storm Bird's ears.

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    Closed-Fist looked around in wonder, at the destruction wrought by storm and beasts.

    None of this was making any sense. The Storm Bird seemed to be insisting that it was the fault of the races of Mamut that the Storm Bird had to attack. Yet... no one had asked for its help. Unless it was one of the more worldly organizations, like the Sentinels of Stone, pulling the strings? But that simply didn't make any sense at all. The Sentinels were just as clueless as to where the Storm Bird made it's nest. The Truthseers or the Dream Speakers might have more luck determining the truth, but even then... to call upon this titanic beast? To make it feel as though it were forced to act?

    Closed-Fist had thought the Storm Bird to be opportunistic. A creature like this must require a lot of food. The Amaryllis Dragon was quickly made its meal, and the Leviathan was slowly becoming the same. The Homage could understand those motivations. All living things had to eat in some manner. But here they were; the Storm Bird insinuating that someone else was to blame for its actions.

    Enough. Was he not the Homage? If that did not give him the right to speak to truth, then who in Mamut could?

    Repeating the words of the Human hero, Closed-Fist raised his voice, "Self-Inflicted? Self-Inflicted?! In what manner do you think we did this -" a wave to the destruction on the shores of Rhödödendräk "to ourselves? In what manner do you feel that we called to the Blightspawn who rage against us? We would be quite content for them to leave the shores of Mamut and never return."

    "For that manner, whom called upon you to end them? Not that we are ungrateful; true Blightspawn such as the Leviathan here would cost many their lives before we could defeat it. But we know of no one capable of contacting - much less compelling - you to come to our aid. Fights are messy things. Fights from creature of your might are vastly messier. You do us all a great service, regardless of whatever drives you to do so. I know several fools whom would try to fight you - and fail - but no one foolish enough to demand anything from someone of your power. None whom would beg to have their homes destroyed along with the homes of their neighbors. If someone is bothering you with their requests, speak their name, and we'll have words with them."


    "Calling upon a storm may bring much needed succor, creating rain for food, but it also brings the thunder and the lightning and the winds." Deep-Sigh adds with a look to Ces, before gazing once more into the eye of the Storm Bird. "Though none of us know whom asked for it, it is true: You have helped us. Insignificant in your eyes that we might be, how might we help you in return?"
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    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
    Before you insult someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
    That way, you'll be a mile away, and have their shoes!

    Got me a Real Job™ (yay!). Still busy (boo!).
    ~avatar by myself

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    The Storm Birds attention rises swiftly from Ces as the Homage speaks, eyes flaring in annoyance at the interruption.

    "YES, SELF-INFLICTED. WHAT ELSE CAN I CALL THE BLEEDING DEATH YOU INFLICT UPON YOUR NEIGHBORS OVER PETTY MORTAL SQUABBLES? OUR WORLD STANDS ASSAILED BY ANNIHILATION ITSELF, AND FOR ALL YOUR STRENGTH YOUR KINGDOMS ARE NO MORE UNIFIED THAN WHEN I WAS BIRTHED BY THE WORLD SOUL. NOTHING COMPELS ME SAVE DUTY, CLOSED-FIST OF THE UZII, BUT IT IS A DUTY THAT GROWS TIRESOME WHEN I SEE HOW YOU SQUADER THE FRUITS OF MY LABORS. YOU SPEAK OF FIGHTING? IF YOU WOULD DO ME A SERVICE, TURN YOUR ENERGIES TOWARDS FIGHTING THE BLIGHT."
    Last edited by TheDarkDM; 2021-02-04 at 04:01 AM.

    I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
    The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
    I was old in those epochs uncounted
    When I, and I only, was vile;

    Spoiler
    Show
    Quote Originally Posted by apocalypsePast2 View Post
    ...one could possibly refer to you guys' elaborate dance of allies-to-enemies-to-suicide-of-the-universe as some sort of weird art form.

    If one were on drugs.
    Quote Originally Posted by VonDoom View Post
    Behold, the mighty slayer of strangely coloured mutant equines! The thwarter of forum woes! The! Dark! DM!

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    Ces finds himself growing hot and angry as he continues to look up at the gigantic bird. Behind his eyes one could see the grin of the Huntmaster and the hoards of the King's Hounds. He unconsciously flexes his former sword hand, his missing fingers like phantoms itching for vengeance. His clawed and gnawed face feels like crackling lightning. He growls:

    I have fought Blight all my life, but I have been bled more by Mortal hands. We cannot face forward when there's teeth ripping the skins off our backs.

    He spits on the ground in disgust.

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    The sound that escapes the Storm bird's beak bridges the gap between laugh and hopeless cry.

    "YOU ASKED HOW YOU MIGHT EASE MY SUFFERING AND I ANSWERED, DIOCLES. HOW PREDICTABLE, THAT YOU CHOOSE TO NURSE OLD GRIEVANCES INSTEAD. I HAVE NO MORE TIME TO BANDY WORDS WITH YOU THREE - MY DUTY CALLS ME ELSEWHERE."

    Without warning, the Storm Bird's head plummets to the Leviathan's corpse, shattering its outer carapace and revealing its writhing heart. Tearing the still-living organ free, the Storm Bird's lightning reduces it to ashes in moments, and with a final bitter glance it lifts itself into the air with the force of a hurricane.

    I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
    The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
    I was old in those epochs uncounted
    When I, and I only, was vile;

    Spoiler
    Show
    Quote Originally Posted by apocalypsePast2 View Post
    ...one could possibly refer to you guys' elaborate dance of allies-to-enemies-to-suicide-of-the-universe as some sort of weird art form.

    If one were on drugs.
    Quote Originally Posted by VonDoom View Post
    Behold, the mighty slayer of strangely coloured mutant equines! The thwarter of forum woes! The! Dark! DM!

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    Ces watches the great bird fly into the air in disappointment. What the creature asked for was impossible. He could not imagine it landing on the steps of the Crimson Kingdom to demand the Horned King to cease his practices long enough for certain lands to forgive them. He felt torn, his sentinel past was telling him the truth of the bird's words - blight was a danger to existence - whereas mortal worries were just that, for mortals. And yet, tell that to a vintner who watched his children torn apart by the King's Hounds? He exhales his confusion and then strangely begins to look around until he picks up one of the Storm Bird's fallen feathers. He brings it to his mentor Deep-Sigh and says:

    It seems a waste now. Everything that this feather was supposed to represent, heroism and bravery, redemption and stupidity, merely discarded and shed across the entire land.

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    "It's not a waste, you old fool." Deep-Sigh accepted the feather with barely any ceremony, other than to acknowledge that he'd received it. He then promptly dropped it on the ground. It would not be picked up again; not by him.

    "In it's current state, it is useless to us. A trophy, perhaps. But what it represents? Maybe nothing to others. But to us? To you? That feather pulled an idiot out of a pool of his own filth. That feather made that idiot work to be slightly less of an idiot, and then work harder to be someone worth respecting. That feather represents nothing, and everything at the same time. You did it, Ces Arnif. If it is the last thing I do, I will be telling the Tale of Mask-Punch to all future generations. You lived a hero, you'll die one too, and this old hide still has enough tricks in it to lay low anyone who tries to tell me different."

    "And I'll help." The Homage nodded, his gaze removing itself from the Storm Bird flying away. "You will be welcomed in Swampum anytime."

    "Assuming he can win the right to enter."

    Rolling his eyes, Closed-Fist shook his head, "You're still going to make him do that?"

    Deep-Sigh cackled, "How else will he teach our own idiots that they need to get better?"

    Closed-Fist looked at Ces and shrugged. "Can't argue with that. Careful. They may be just as stupid, but they seem to get younger every year."

    "You're just getting old like us!"

    "Nonsense, I'm much more handsome than either of you ugly elders."

    "Handsome like a toad's behind!"

    "You would insult your Homage?" Taking a step forward, Closed-Fist raised his closed fist towards Deep-Sigh.

    "You would insult a Tusker Shaman?" The very same Tusker Shaman shuffled forward, his snout now pressed against the Homage's own.

    Right when it looked like it would come to blows, the Homage eyed the rainwater coming down their faces, "At least we finally got ourselves a bath."

    Deep-Sigh saw what he meant, and grinned, "Oh yes, Ces needed it."

    The two linked arms, and just started laughing, standing there in the rain. They had stories to tell upon their return, and plans to see to before they would let old age trouble them, but the storm no longer bothered them.
    Last edited by Gengy; 2021-02-08 at 01:28 PM.
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    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
    Before you insult someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
    That way, you'll be a mile away, and have their shoes!

    Got me a Real Job™ (yay!). Still busy (boo!).
    ~avatar by myself

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    Default Re: Empire 6: The Storm Bird

    Ces breaks into laughter as well and joins the two Uzii in their close circle with his arms around them.

    Perhaps his tale is at an end as well - a surprisingly happy one.

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