Posted by Lelana(VIP) on October 17, 2000 at 20:04:24:
In Reply to: [DELETED] Alotho the Crusader (long (?) ) posted by Alotho Alliroh on October 17, 2000 at 18:42:11:
> --- DESK: > --- ROLE: > Oceans -- Western Aryth Ocean -- Unchecked legends: > Somewhere in the middle of the Western Aryth, under the shining stars, waves > From time to time, creatures from the Outlands were striking guard islands, such > Related topics: > Other information may be found in: > ....On the small, but rich isle, in the Alliroh's family fort, people were celebriting. > Covered with a strange thick fog, a terrible fleet approached the Arvaroh's Isle. > Arvaroh's Fort lied in ruins. Skeltetal warriors overtook the escaping defenders, > In the tower, the few survived wizards, and other acolytes of the Circle, were beginning > People of the White Circle mourned for their leader, Astenaeus, who gave > Lerinke was lying on the huge, beautiful bed, surrounded with flowers and her > Honor of the Knights High School, Alotho Alliroh was preparing for his Last > Suddenly, all noise on the Arena's stands ceased as the acolyte stepped out on the Arena. > Mountains of corpses and rivers of blood surrounded last living peope in the centre > Few days later, new tomb was built in the Circle's Cemetry of Heroes. Simple > He awoke in a small room with clean, white walls. One wall was the symboll of the > -- Do you know, why are you here, son...? You don't. Just listen, it's not a time > . " Giant figure, spear in the hand - sparkling. . > Healer told nothing to Alotho, except he didn't notice any fog, images or > In the dark night, when deep clouds covered a full moon, a small boat left the docks > With time, rumors spreads in Hamsah Mu'tazz and villages, surrounding it, about > What is the nature of man? What for do we live? Alotho didn't knew. Self > In the early morning, high in the mountains to the hidden shrine came > No light. No dark. Nothing -- The Void. Emptiness between time and space. Not here > "Pain. Pain... What, pain? A pain in the neck... body? Right, my body... I am Alotho, > Alotho flinched as his hub bites him slightly on his neck, and opened his eyes. His > Alotho spins around, with a short whispering his sword flew up, cutting the troll's > Just some (maybe) annoying, not interesting minds. > PLEASE Don't read if you are easily getting offended by a bad spelling and grammar errors! > I've tired of many many things. First, it's I died (!) four times when my link was 100% dead. > I've tired of guys, who saying how much "exp" they have "tnl". And words like "I have 29341 kobolds to kill for my next promotion".... It's same exactly. > I am sorry for my language, but I am drained and have no power to check spelling and grammar. > Alomar, damnit, lucky punk! Twice we fought, twice I was inanimate. Damnit. Good fighting, though. > Another thing - it's code. Damnit, after playing sylvans, I just cannot be so polite! *mutter* - felt myself like a prisoner with this char. > I am sure you know, who I was, so I will not scribe or list my characters I've played here. > Now I know, when I shall not sanctify room. > Also I know that paladins can be NG too. What a surprise. > Leud, when I locked you in the closet, I almost fallen down from my chair and woke up my cat. Good story, was very funny. And you are still terrible thief. > Who else? I do not think I talked to many of you. > Feystrim, (red aura) means evilness for Marans, no? You are really easy-to-explode one. Take it easy. > Sylvans, I miss you. :P > Maybe I will return one day to CF... maybe even tomorrow, or in a few years. > I miss Flonty. Miss badly. > I miss cabal channel. :P > And chameleon, feeling naked without it - sylvan's powers really overpowered and addictive. > And my ISP is worst in the world. Anathema to my ISP, > Time to take a nap. :)
> Possibly larger than double is size than most, this true giant rises high above
> all others. Tied to the crown of his head, in a bundle, lies a heap of milky
> white hair, its tendrils hanging down to his waist. Huge round eyes of a strange
> yellow peer intently at you from beneath his large forehead. His face is a perfect
> oval, to gentle to be a warrior's but loved most among women. His nose is small
> and his lips have the innocense of a child. His clothes are iridescent and even
> in the mild breezes they do not move. Upon his shoulder sits a spider-like
> creature, its paws, if thats what you want to call them, appear massive; and
> this creature is covered with a thin fur. With eight piercing yellow eyes, like
> those of his master, this creature pierces into your being, staring intently at
> you.
> A page from the Great World Encyclopedia of the White Circle (tome XII):
> crushed on the rocks of the small isle -- Isle of Arvaroh. This legendary isle
> countered innumerous amount of attacks from the Outlands -- nobody could tell you
> for sure, what it is, except maybe one thing -- Outlands is a horror, nightmare
> and a legend. Brave sailors, who tried to find a way there, returned back to the
> lands without any luck. Rumor say of those who found it, lost their mind and even the
> best healers couldn't help the poor ones. People believe that the Outlands is Chaos
> itself, though nobody is really sure.
> as Arvaroh was. Each time it was different foes -- worms, some strange mass,
> pearl drakes that shined in the sun, pirates... Attacks that seemed to have no reason
> or sytem. People adapted and built forts on the islands, and forgot about
> this danger -- maybe, even eternal danger.
> Legend: Alliroh's death.
> Legend: Alotho - Savior or Destroyer?
> Legend: Warlord (topic: Western Aryth)
> "Sir Manga Melifaro World Encyclopedia", tome VI, page XLIV.
> Celerithing a new birth. Their master, Ornald Alliroh, had a third child born,
> and stars promised him a great and famous future. Lerinke, his young wife, happily
> accepted best wishes, congratulations, and presents of great value... And no
> one could see the signs of danger and destruction in the sky that marked Alotho's life,
> as the child was named. Elders of the Arvaroh's White Circle, mighty conclav of
> famous warriors, healers and wizards, gladely agreed to teach him. People were
> celebriting, wine splashed like magical flowers, fireworks flourished in
> the night sky.
> This isle was first and smallest isle on the Western Ocean. Fort, guarding inner
> lands from the intruders such as this fleet, should fall first - and very fast,
> before guardians could warn blessed Lords... and the White Circle, ofcourse.
> Warlord was standing on the larger ship and watching his mages do their work.
> No one knew his real name - and no one dared to ask him about it. Ships landed.
> Unseen by mortal eyes, and even unseen by the magical traps, strange skeletal troops
> silently disembarked.
> indifferently murdering them. Rivers of blood flowed down to the water, that was
> deep blue this day... and now red. The Fort fell, and only a few wizards of the
> Circle kept one last tower from the foes. Surrounded with an army of the skeletons and
> mages of the Night, defenders had no chance. And they were perfectly realising
> it...
> Rituals. Not strong enough to defend Lerinke and her child, all they could do was aid her
> in finding a way to escape. The ritual ended, and Lerinke with her son slowly disappeared
> in the vortex they created, that was growing with every second. A few minutes
> later, the tower exploded, burning skeleton armies with a hot wave of flame. Unable
> to stop, or control the explosion, defenders sacrificed themselves to save other's
> lives. Warlord, escaped at the last moment, master's wife and her baby were the only
> ones who survived this battle. Island of Arvaroh was no more, and only the vortex
> of red was left whirling at the place of tragedy.
> his life to save inner lands from the armies of Warlord. Along with the loss of Astenaeus,
> The White Circle lost their best wizards, healers and strongest warriors. Nobody knew, who
> won the battle - Warlord, by destroying the head of the White Circle, or Astenaeus with his
> friends, who completely destroyed Warlord's terrible army... And strange rumors
> spread about Lerinke and her child. Acolytes and shamans were breaking their
> heads, guessing why their leader gave his life for Lerinke... or her child? Nobody
> knew.
> new friends. Lerinke was dead, dead a few days allready, but rot didn't touch
> her perfect, young body. Nobody knew why she died or how. There was talk from the
> shamans about her wish to join her beloved husband, Ornald Alliroh. And one morning,
> she didn't wake up. Alotho, her son, who was young yet but already understanding everything,
> he didn't cry... Another death, another death on the hands of his foe - Warlord.
> Challenge. He already passed Phylosophy, History, Polotics and many many
> others, but it they were easy enough. Now, he shall defeat his own fears on arena
> - and who knows, what they are? Not many students of the School accepted the
> Last Challenge, and only few survived it. Alotho drew his runed sword, and
> stepped into the Arena.
> Young, but allready famous and beloved by everyne in the Circle, acolyte
> Alotho crossed the battlefield and settled down on his left knee before the main
> pedestal. A tradition of the Arena, everyone could ask the judge for any one thing,
> before their battle was to begin... Alotho asked for nothing. He only lifted his sword in
> salute and returned to the centre of the Arena. And Battle began.
> of the Arena. Basrord, the honor of the School, passed the Last Challenge... almost.
> Alotho Alliroh was dying. He defeated every single foe he encountered - considering
> this victory, does his life matters anything? Laws of the Arena was simple enough:
> "A person must leave the Arena by himself. If a person can not, they will die and
> honorable death there." Alotho was dying, and no one was able to save his young life.
> tombstone with Alotho's name carved on it was lying upon the grave, surrounded
> with the dark roses. And no one knew the truth - the grave was empty...
> Green Brothers. It was a circle in the corner of another circle, crossed with
> three simple lines. A small white door, almost unseen, was closed in another wall.
> Alotho couldn't find any source of light, but the room was brightly lit. Alotho stood
> from the bed when door opened and one of the green brothers walked in. A high ranked
> healer, judging by the symbol on his plain green robes. He quietly sat down on the floor,
> legs crossed, and watched Alotho for a while. Then, he began to speak.
> to ask anything... You had died, my son, died on the Arena. It was predicted and
> expected. -- The Healer sighed sadly. -- If we could, you would be saved from this
> pain... but we cannot change the ways of fate. You must be known as dead now. It
> can't disguise our foes... and your foes. It will stop them for a bit - and I
> hope, give you enough time to escape from the island. Yes, you don't know them.
> But they are already looking for you. Don't ask me why. I don't know - none of us
> know for sure. In a hour, you will be transported to another continent - I
> think, to the famous city, Hamsah Mu'tazz. My brothers in their meditations found
> a task for you. It was a few strings - here, I scribed it for you. -- The Healer
> retrieved a small paper from his robes and began to recite it:
> . Made from lightning. .
> . Strike down from .
> . the mountaintop. .
> . .
> . Watching mortal deeds, laughing at their greed .
> . And lust. .
> . Blessing brave ones who .
> . are scared not of Life. " .
>
> As the Healer finished, in silence, a white fog slowly gathered. Mysterious images
> appeared and immedietly morphed into another. The City changed into the skull,
> skull - into a dark citadel, then into the burning fire, woman's face, gold coin,
> corpse, and so on. Finally, everything gone from the fog, leaving it clear. And,
> before the fog was completely gone, three images appeared there. First was mountain,
> rising at the Ocean. Second - a lion, tearing a dead orc. And third - someone's face.
> Dark skinned, with a narrow eyes, framed with a grey hairs. The person was looking
> evily, like it was trying to see through the fog - but the fog disappeared before he
> could suceed.
> anything else. Ofcourse, he was not denying anything. Who knows these miracles,
> that surround us? All he could recommend, was to find the giant figure from the
> strange poem. What it could be? A king or sultan? Powerful wizard? Or some
> spirit? Or, even God? Nobody knew. Nothing could been found in the libraries,
> legends kept silence. Alotho Alliroh, last of Arvaroh's defenders, and last
> survived of Alliroh's, begans his hunt.
> of the island. Three figures could be seen in the boat - and one of them was
> very like that of Alotho Alliroh, fallen winner of the Arenar. Another figure, not so
> large, but not less dangerous, was on the oars. Third was looking forward,
> sometimes rising his hands, showing a right directon to sail. A week later,
> large ship aboarded to the Hamsah Mu'tazz's docks. Sailors began to disembark
> exotic goods, aromatic oils, unseen before sorts of tobacco, carpets with
> strange pictures on it. During all this noise and fuss nobody paid attention
> even at such huge giant, as Alotho was. South, by the river, in the cavern, he made
> a small house from the rocks and animal pelts he found. Sometimes, when
> he was hunting -- or just walking around, he was looking up, at the "mountain,
> rising high above the sea". One day, when he will be able to find ways in the
> mountains, he will travel there.
> a strange person in the forest south of the city. Nobody saw him, but many could
> swear - he is somewhere around. One was saying he is just living in the mountains.
> One was saying he is hunthing travellers or others who are hunting there. And no
> one dared to enter deep into the mountain forests.
> improvement? But why, you will die sooner or later... For children and family?
> Alotho has nothing, except his blades, hub and some old clothes. For keeping
> and gathering knowledge and expirience? Maybe, but life can be perfect without
> it. Treasures? Ofcourse, no. Alotho was meditating, as he was taught in the
> Knight's School. He didn't have answer - not yet.
> a giant person. White hairs shining in the rising sun, his face beautiful face and calm.
> He nods his head and bows slightly, stepping into the shrine. Raising his hands
> to the sky, he prayed. Prayer ended, and the person sats at the corner of the shrine,
> eyes closed and animation leavs his body. Sitting there in meditation, he was
> awaiting. Hub jumps down from his shoulder, and goes to find him some food. He
> was not bothered by actions of his friend, nor seems to worry about him. Some
> fresh grass and early-dew -- what can be better then that?
> nor there. No feelings yourself - but you can sense everything. One second is
> the age. No answers, no quesitons. Good or bad? It doesn't mean everything.
> No wishes. No minds. Big small clots of -- light? Words, phrases. Poems. They
> mean nothing and everything. Lightnings of non-imagination crossing emptiness.
> Meditation. Meditation... Meditation.......................
> Alotho Alliroh -- and I am within the Storm..."
> mind, all this time flying somewhere, returned to his body. Right afront of him was
> rising a huge person, wind was crushing him without any visible result -- and he
> was enjoying it! It was Him. Deus Uller, of whom about Alotho heard so much, and
> to whom he was praying here. Alotho losts his voice, unable to speak, paralyzed
> by the might of this God, standing infront of him. Everything he had to say suddenly
> dissapeared from his young head, leaving only scraps of thoughts, forming some strange mix.
> They had spoken for long, of many things. Of good and bad things, of terrible events
> and future joyful days. With every second Alotho felt his minds becoming solid,
> chaotic mess in his head became to forms into a shape. And at least, he felt himself
> solid, united with his faith and body - Spirit of the Storm, Deus Uller, has
> blessed him. He was much more, then a plain crusader in the Circle now. Hub jumps
> on his shoulder when he left storm, filled with a sacred strength of the Storm.
> head from it's body. Deep red blood, dark in the light of rising sun, absorbed by the
> grass. Trolls, a heartless creatures, who is murdering just for lust, always
> made Alotho's to grimace in disgust. Who made them? Why? What dark mage, or even
> God, did it? Trolls were destroying forest, in wich they lived. It reminded Alotho
> many others, humans, elves, giants, who were cutting down trees to build walls, hunting
> animals to wear their skins and made toys from the bones for their childers. Isn't
> this the same as trolls do? Destroying their home and hiding from it's wrath
> behind the walls within the cities, where they are murdering each other... With a
> sadly sigh, Alotho steps forward, cutting another troll from it's houlder to the
> middle of his chest. Questions, questions... but is there an answers? Alotho turns
> to another troll.
> ----------------------
> First paladin, first storm giant I ever played. And I must admit, I did terrible.
> be it's name forgotten and their owners boil in hell. Right.