Ryzom

I invite everyone who told a story during this evening's Storytellings to share their story in this thread.

This is not so much a story as it is a warning...
We have all arrived here to a land in which the slate has been cleaned by the vicious attacks of the kitins. We see the destroyed outposts of our once great civilisations laid waste before us, and yet despite the fact that even as a united force we could not drive back the kitins, people to this day speak of homins as divided races with opposed goals. I however only see ruin if we were to stride down that road again... Look upon your fellow homins, be they matis, tryker, zorai or fyros and see not our enemies of old, but our brothers in arms, we were powerless once to fight the kitins due to our differences, do not let us see us happen again, for I fear tough times ae ahead of us.

--Jaeton, Matis of Guild Melinoe

During the time of the Great Swarming, a material was discovered like no other in that time or ours. Taken to the greatest mages and crafters of the land, a magnificient suit of armor was fashioned.

Warriors throughout the regions were sought to wear the armor. All who put it on tore it from their bodies screaming in agony. At last one was found! Moha, who's spirit the armor had accepted, was given the task of leading a relief force into the prime roots to aid a band of countrymen cut off by the advancing Kitin swarms.

Leading a band of refugees from the Prime Roots, Moha was last seen holding a narrow corridor, allowing his companions to escape the advancing Kitin hoarde.

Several generations passed. A tribesman, half-witted and near death, was captured by a roaming patrol. With his last breath, he told the tale of his party finding a suit of ancient Fryos armor and taking it back to the city to study. "Sealed in a chamber, the armor was," he stammered, "with none but our mages and scholars."

The next morning, as the guards made their early rounds, they discovered the chamber door open. Looking inside, bodies lay tossed and scattered as if by the wind - only the armor stood slightly askew from it's original position, smeared with blood. All could only wonder at this mystery as the chamber was sealed from the inside! The chamber was re-sealed with a squad of guards placed on the outer door. During the night, screams and the clash of arms were heard. As reinforcements rushed to the area, the chamber door was seen to be open, bodies strewn about and the armor stalking down the corridor! Upon seeing this, the guards closed and opened fire, hitting the suit of armor many times! Instead of falling as it must, the head turned back toward the guards who then noticed the green glow emmitting from the eye slits. The armor bore not a scratch! A hollow laugh rang out as the ancient, Fryos armor turned upon them laying waste to all that stood between it and the freedom of the night and vanished without a trace. This is the story told by the tribesman that day.

It would seem that although the flesh of Moha turned to dust ages ago, his spirit became one with the armor and, to this day, stalks the Prime Roots ready to slay any who disturb it.

And here's mine. A story I'm sure we all know, but it would be much worse if we should forget.

It wasn't too many years ago when a party of Fyros miners went looking for the dragon mentioned so often in Atys mythology. What they found was far more frightening. The Fyros expedition discovered a nest of kitins, the swarming insects we know all to well today. As homins do all too often, the Fyros lashed out out of fear, seeking to destroy the strange beasts they'd discovered.

Alerted by the slaughter, hundreds of soldier kitins poured out of the underground. The kitin queens acknowledged these strange creatures called homins as their new predator. And sought to defend themselves accordingly.

Perhaps we are not so different.

Kitin hordes swarmed out of the underground, seeking to eliminate all traces of homin life. Villages were slaughtered, the population was decimated and it seemed all of hominkind would be wiped out. The Kami and Karavan managed to save a few refugees, but thousands perished under the kitin onslaught our history calls The Great Swarming.

We are still recovering from the ravages of the Kitins. But they are still there. They've attacked Matis lands not too long ago. And they will return.

Other things are afoot. A shaman called Oba stalks the lands. Frahars capture Leviers nobles and the Fyros fight to get them back. Wheels are turning, friends, and we don't know where they are going.

Perhaps that is true terror.

On an evening much like this one not very long ago I decided to leave Fairhaven and swim to Loria. It was dusk when I left, the sky clear a light breeze blowing. After swimming for about an hour the sunset, the clouds thickened and the fog rolled in. It began to rain heavily. What started out as a beautiful nights swim quickly became a fight for my life. The waves began slamming against my body, it took all my strength just to keep my head above the water. Unable to navigate I decided it would be best to find land and wait out the storm. After struggling for several minutes, like a beacon, the outline of an island appeared thru the fog. As i got closer to the island I could see it was only a small beach surrounded by towering mountains. I quickly swam to the beach and dragged my water soaked body up onto the sand. On closer inspection of the mountains I located a small cave, I ran to the cave and sat down. The cave was just deep enough to block the wind but the rain still blew in on my head. I was just happy to be out of the lakes turbulent waters.

After a few minutes I fell asleep, my battered body thankful for the oppurtunity to rest. At that point I don't know how much time had passed but something stirred me and I awoke suddenly. For a moment I was completely unaware of my surroundings my eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkeness, my mind still numb and groggy. When my wits returned to me I noticed the rain had stopped. That was when i heard.....

"Killlllll meeeeee !"

I stood up and spun around my pike out stretched into the fog. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. There was nothing. After turning around and around several times something even stranger struck me. It was still raining in the cave but not outside. I reached my hand out to verify that what my eyes were seeing was actually what was happening. It was then I focused on my hand, it was completely red, it was raining blood.

"Killllll meeeeeeee !"

It was at that point my ears honed into the direction of the sound and I looked up.

Hanging above me about 20 feet up was the most horrific sight I had ever seen. I had not stumbled on a remote island with a mountain range. The Mountain range was actually an enormous Goari. Impaled on one of its mandibles was a Skinner, his right arm severed, and from the hole where his arm was attached sprayed blood raining down on my head. He was looking down at me and pleading.

"Killlll meee please !"

I froze, my body stiff as wood. my jaw dropped and a high pitched scream formed deep in my throat, as hard as I tried I could not contain it and it spewed from my mouth.

The great beast awoke at the sound of my scream, it turned its massive head down to look at me. I could see its deep black eyes focus on me. My instincts took cntrol of my body, without a single thought i found myself sprinting across the sand. My only hope was to make it to the water and far enough into the lake in hopes the Goari would not follow. The Goari stood turned its head to the sky and let out an ear shattering roar and began to pursue me. Each step of it's stride shook the ground, the concussions nearly caused me to stumble. When I reached the water I dove in and began to swim as quickly as my arms would move. I'm not sure how long I swam for but, I never looked back until I got to Loria.

To this day, on evenings like this one, when the wind is calm and i'm sitting on the shore of the lake I somethimes think about that night. Occasional I find myself listening closely, and somethimes when the conditions are just right on the breeze I can hear...

"Killllllll meeeeeee"



story by Torreg (Tryker island member of the Brawler guild)

This is a poem that was told in my tribe in the wilderness. Told to young ones to give them warning and help them understand the importance of listening to their elders. Gather close to your loved ones, and listen to the Rhyme of Korov

Eyes aflame with wings of night,
Korov soars in skies of storm.
Claws and teeth to tear and bite,
The fears of young and old are borne.

Careless of who might feel it's wrath,
She scours the land for those alone.
Nor animals are safe cow of calf,
All are borne to her hellish home.

Screams of torture and or pain,
Sing and lament their loss.
Viscous ooze drips like rain,
Covering all with a sickly gloss.

None survive there for long,
Korov's hunger never filled.
Young or old, weak or strong,
All end up horribly killed.

So listen well you young kids,
Heed your elders and their choices.
Go to sleep as they bid,
And Korov will not hear your voices.

Rhedyn

(left game - post erased)


Spyryt of the Zorai