Back in high school, I was addicted to a form of online roleplaying though MUDs. Short for Multiple User Dungeon for those not old enough to remember or those who haven't even heard of these primitive forms of MMORPGs.
After an evening of roleplaying on my favourite MUD called Armageddon, I decided that the course of events would make a good story for people to read. So after reading over the log I had saved, I got to writing every detail that the command prompt could give me into a format that your average person could understand.
Enjoy!
Quote:
The bustling city of Allanak. The largest city in the known world of Zalanthas. Your home. Originally, you were a hunter with your elven tribe. But that all changed since the attack of a mekellot killed everyone, all but you. Since then, you've been living in Allanak. Sleeping in dark alleys, eating whatever you can get, and living off what you stole.
Your name is Leon, but to the dwarves, muls and humans. Your name is filth, long neck or simply elf. It's a racial barrier that's existed since the dawn of time. The same barrier that's prevented you from getting a decent job. Krath, not even the 'elite' mercenary unit called 'The Byn' will accept you. Nasty things are said about elves, which explains why the race goes on being punished for an unknown crime.
This is your day, the day you bag the biggest prize you've ever imagined. A rich Kadian's purse? Oh Krath no...Something much more valuable than that. A templar's brooch. Why would one do such a crazy thing? Probably because one's purse is too light to afford dinner. Something in the back of your mind is telling you that you're insane.
The Templarate, servants of the Highlord who rules the known world. Each blessed with the mysterious and destructive force of magick. Their purpose is to uphold the laws of the known world and do their master's bidding. The very same laws you break on a daily basis. You seriously haven't given this much thought, but your greed makes the prize so much more desirable.
With your black sandcloth cloak wrapped around your form, you enter the thick crowd of Allanak's market place. All around you, you can smell carcasses being auctioned to anyone in their right mind who would want them. Yells from various merchants and traders can be heard all around you. One goes on about her jewelry and another about his desert hunting gear. Not today, for you have bigger scrabs to fry.
Your cold eyes search through the crowd of dirty commoners, where can she be? You've stalked her from the shadows for over a week to learn exactly what she does each day. Today it's a trip to the market to slap some commoners around for fun. At long last, your gaze falls upon your target. Lady Templar Ysania. The most hated templar in all of Allanak. She has a short fuse and couple of flint rocks eager to light it. Your conscience begs you to turn around and just give up. You're much too eager to become a well-known elf; you'll do anything.
Lady Ysania is garbed in brilliant blue robes made from the finest silk you've ever seen. Even from the safe distance, you can see the elegant gold embroidery of dragons done all about her garments. Around her head is a golden tiara embedded with sparkling sapphires. You lick your lips as you see the object of your desire. Strung about her neck on a black leather thong is a dull, black crystal brooch. Emblazoned into the center is a jade cross, the symbol of Allanak.
Your leather-clad hand reaches into a pouch on your belt and withdraws a white ceramic mask. "Soon... that brooch will be in my hands,” you think as a grin curls along your lips. Pulling at the black headband, you slip the mask over your entire face and you raise your hood. To the unsuspecting, you now resemble a juggler out in the market place to earn some coins. "Gather round to see my famous juggling feats!" you call out at the top of your lungs.
The crowd murmurs to themselves curiously as they gather around you. You toss an empty, leather rucksack on the ground before you. "What you will see today are talents like you have never seen before!" you call to your audience, coaxing them to relax. Lady Ysania comes to your vision as her guards force the crowd to make room for her. "Excellent! She came, just as I planned." you whisper to yourself through your unseen lips.
You crouch forward and reveal several multicolored balls from the rucksack and you begin to juggle. The crowd claps quietly and a few of the amused children walk up to your rucksack and throw in a couple obsidian coins. In no way are you an entertainer, this is just a front to make the task of theft easier.
In an act you've done many times before, you fake dropping the balls and they scatter all about. You exaggerate how embarrassed you are just before you go out after them. "Would you all be so kind as to help me find them,” you shout to your audience. You spot a ball, what luck! It landed in someone's bag that they placed on the ground.
"Pardon me miss, my ball landed next to your belongings,” you say to the woman in a cheery voice. She offers you a polite smile and steps aside and turns to talk with her young boy. Your slip your hand inside of the bag and take the ball in your hand, at the same time you take a small, brown leather pouch into your hand as well. Not caring for the contents, you simply take the pouch and tuck it into the folds of your cloak.
You return to your rucksack and take little colored balls from the people who retrieved them. After slipping the balls into the rucksack, you look up at the sky before making an announcement. "My lovely audience, I regret to announce that I must be leaving. For I have nobles to entertain!" you call out. Sounds of saddened children beckon you to stay and perform one more trick. You simply ignore their calls and gather your rucksack.
You notice Lady Ysania turn to leave with her guards and she heads towards a bench made from grey stone. Casually you stroll along a good length behind her to avoid being noticed by her loyal guards. You continue to walk by her after she takes her seat on the bench. Rounding a corner, you slip into the merchant tent behind the bench.
Your eyes quickly scan the tent for the merchant or anyone looking to buy anything. No one at all. The merchant must have left to the curtained back to get some more wares. A mischievous grin spreads over your face. Quietly, you sneak to the portion of the tent where the bench is and crawl underneath to the outside. Excellent! Not one of the two guards saw you, not even the Lady Templar.
A gloved hand races towards the hilt of your dagger that rests in its hidden sheath. The threat of the blade making noise, you slowly draw out the weapon and creep towards your victim. The black cord of the brooch rests on Lady Ysania's robes and not her flesh, this will be easier than you had thought. Your digits move at an extremely slow speed, the very speed of running kank honey. They pick up the black leather and you quickly make your cut and yank the brooch off of her neck. The woman shrieks in fright and you quickly roll under the canvas of the tent.
As fast as your long, elven legs can move, you begin to run towards the closest exit of the market. Snickering you slip the brooch into your cloak. "I truly am clever!" you say to yourself as you dart unnoticed into a dark alley. You lean against the wall and lower yourself into a squat. Might as well get comfortable, it may take some time before everything settles down.
You withdraw the brooch, the crystal sparkling in the dull light. This truly is the biggest accomplishment you've done in your life. You remove your mask and throw it aside; it shatters to pieces as it hits the ground.
As the final rays of the desert sun set over the great walls of Allanak, you find yourself residing in your favorite bar. The Gladiator and Gaj Tavern. Normally, you'd just come here for a couple mugs of Templar's ale and you'd go back to your pathetic excuse of a home in the 'Rinth, the lawless slums of Allanak. But not this night.
Snickering to yourself as you toss a brown, leather pouch into the air and catch it, you casually slip into a wooden barstool. "Templar's ale. Krath... Templar's ale for everyone at the bar!" you say to the dark-skinned barkeep. The barkeep snorts at you in disgust and harshly says: "Wut's da catch..? 'ow does I know you's pull'in a fast one ya long ear."
Normally, these racial remarks would cause you to snap into a fit of rage. But not this time. Your achievement of the day has made you invincible to everything Zalanthas could possibly throw at you. With a loud SLAM you slap the brown, leather pouch onto the stained bar top. The rattling sound from within the pouch that follows the impact causes the dirty barkeep to smile, revealing his yellowed and decaying teeth. Cheers can be heard from the other patrons sitting around you as they raise their ceramic mugs.
"Well... if it isn't the Elf who stole Lady Templar Ysania's brooch." says a voice from behind you. You turn to look over your dark leather-clad shoulder only to see a fist slam into your cheek. The mighty blow sends you sprawling towards the ground. Nothing can be heard, except for the loud ringing in your ears. "Well... are you going to hand it back? Or are prepared o reimburse her... with your head." says the voice. Weakly, you slowly lift your head to see who the assailant is. Your pallid eyes rest upon a human man garbed in... Templarate Guard armor? It seems like your good day is taking a turn for the worse.
"What the ******** are you talkin' about round ear?" you ask as you begin to climb to your feet. Without warning, the man strikes you with his foot. Your leather garbed form slams into the bar, sending bottles and mugs crashing to the ground. "Hold him!" the man commands to a pair of armor-clad dwarves standing at his side. They harshly grab your arms and subdue you.
With his arms folded behind his back, the man slowly leans forward and whispers into your ear. "You're not as clever as you thought... Elf." With every word that escapes his lips, you can smell the aroma of his horrid breath. "With me!" he orders his underlings as he forces his way through the busy crowd of the tavern, the dwarves dragging you as they follow their leader to the busy street of Caravan Road.
To avoid any injury to your legs, you try to move along willingly with your captors. People of various races and statuses stop what they are doing to watch the guards drag you away. To your surprise, they turn onto Vivadu Road. An area of Allanak, that's devoted to the arts of magick. Why there? The guards usually drag criminals to the Allanakki jail, right? To even more surprise, you're dragged into a temple of healing.
"What is it you want with me? It seems the brooch isn't what you’re after,” you nervously say to the man. There is no response from either of the guards as you're harshly dragged upstairs to the magicker barracks. The man stops before a large wooden door and opens it. With a gesture of his hands, the dwarves throw you inside the room. Your darkened cloak cascades over your form as your land on the wooden floor. "That's enough... you are dismissed. I can handle things on my own." he says to the dwarves. As you rise to your feet, you can hear their heavy boots as they leave. Even worse, you can hear the door closing.
"Pay me Elf. And maybe, just maybe. I won't turn you in.” the man says as he draws a jade-emblazoned obsidian sword. With your eyes locked on the vicious blade, you slowly begin to back up until you hit the wall. The sharp blade is placed against your throat and you swallow hard. "Four thousand coins, that's the price of your life. Can you afford to live Elf?" the man says as a menacing glint can be seen in his green eyes.
In fear of being killed, you bob your head in a simple nod. "Yeah... s**t... I got some coins in my belt." you say to the man as you weakly smile and raise your gloved hands into the air. The man nods and lowers his sword away from your neck. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you fish your hand under your cloak and feel around for the hilt of your longknife. As your hand wraps around it, your second hand jolts towards the location of your second longknife and you draw them both out.
With a last chance of survival, you lunge towards the man and stab forward. A smirk grows over his lips as he dodges your futile attack. "So be it... you shall die tonight!" he growls as he draws out a second sword made of the same black-green stone. Swiftly, you dive under a swing aimed at your neck. With little time to react, the second blade barely grazes your cheek, leaving its small bleeding mark.
Instead of attacking a second time, you make a run for the door, dropping one of your weapons to open it. You slip out into the hallway only to feel the man's weapon strike you in the back. Pain shoots through your entire body as he drives the sharp blade through your body. Your eyes grow wide as you see blood blossom from your chest, followed by the tip of the weapon.
Your energy quickly fading to nothing, you fall to your knees. Hands shaking, you drop the knife and it clatters on the ground followed by several droplets of blood. Your vision begins to darken and you hear the last thing you'll ever hear in your life. "You're pretty stupid for a 'clever' Elf, but now you're just a meal for the rats and the cockroaches."
Your name is Leon, but to the dwarves, muls and humans. Your name is filth, long neck or simply elf. It's a racial barrier that's existed since the dawn of time. The same barrier that's prevented you from getting a decent job. Krath, not even the 'elite' mercenary unit called 'The Byn' will accept you. Nasty things are said about elves, which explains why the race goes on being punished for an unknown crime.
This is your day, the day you bag the biggest prize you've ever imagined. A rich Kadian's purse? Oh Krath no...Something much more valuable than that. A templar's brooch. Why would one do such a crazy thing? Probably because one's purse is too light to afford dinner. Something in the back of your mind is telling you that you're insane.
The Templarate, servants of the Highlord who rules the known world. Each blessed with the mysterious and destructive force of magick. Their purpose is to uphold the laws of the known world and do their master's bidding. The very same laws you break on a daily basis. You seriously haven't given this much thought, but your greed makes the prize so much more desirable.
With your black sandcloth cloak wrapped around your form, you enter the thick crowd of Allanak's market place. All around you, you can smell carcasses being auctioned to anyone in their right mind who would want them. Yells from various merchants and traders can be heard all around you. One goes on about her jewelry and another about his desert hunting gear. Not today, for you have bigger scrabs to fry.
Your cold eyes search through the crowd of dirty commoners, where can she be? You've stalked her from the shadows for over a week to learn exactly what she does each day. Today it's a trip to the market to slap some commoners around for fun. At long last, your gaze falls upon your target. Lady Templar Ysania. The most hated templar in all of Allanak. She has a short fuse and couple of flint rocks eager to light it. Your conscience begs you to turn around and just give up. You're much too eager to become a well-known elf; you'll do anything.
Lady Ysania is garbed in brilliant blue robes made from the finest silk you've ever seen. Even from the safe distance, you can see the elegant gold embroidery of dragons done all about her garments. Around her head is a golden tiara embedded with sparkling sapphires. You lick your lips as you see the object of your desire. Strung about her neck on a black leather thong is a dull, black crystal brooch. Emblazoned into the center is a jade cross, the symbol of Allanak.
Your leather-clad hand reaches into a pouch on your belt and withdraws a white ceramic mask. "Soon... that brooch will be in my hands,” you think as a grin curls along your lips. Pulling at the black headband, you slip the mask over your entire face and you raise your hood. To the unsuspecting, you now resemble a juggler out in the market place to earn some coins. "Gather round to see my famous juggling feats!" you call out at the top of your lungs.
The crowd murmurs to themselves curiously as they gather around you. You toss an empty, leather rucksack on the ground before you. "What you will see today are talents like you have never seen before!" you call to your audience, coaxing them to relax. Lady Ysania comes to your vision as her guards force the crowd to make room for her. "Excellent! She came, just as I planned." you whisper to yourself through your unseen lips.
You crouch forward and reveal several multicolored balls from the rucksack and you begin to juggle. The crowd claps quietly and a few of the amused children walk up to your rucksack and throw in a couple obsidian coins. In no way are you an entertainer, this is just a front to make the task of theft easier.
In an act you've done many times before, you fake dropping the balls and they scatter all about. You exaggerate how embarrassed you are just before you go out after them. "Would you all be so kind as to help me find them,” you shout to your audience. You spot a ball, what luck! It landed in someone's bag that they placed on the ground.
"Pardon me miss, my ball landed next to your belongings,” you say to the woman in a cheery voice. She offers you a polite smile and steps aside and turns to talk with her young boy. Your slip your hand inside of the bag and take the ball in your hand, at the same time you take a small, brown leather pouch into your hand as well. Not caring for the contents, you simply take the pouch and tuck it into the folds of your cloak.
You return to your rucksack and take little colored balls from the people who retrieved them. After slipping the balls into the rucksack, you look up at the sky before making an announcement. "My lovely audience, I regret to announce that I must be leaving. For I have nobles to entertain!" you call out. Sounds of saddened children beckon you to stay and perform one more trick. You simply ignore their calls and gather your rucksack.
You notice Lady Ysania turn to leave with her guards and she heads towards a bench made from grey stone. Casually you stroll along a good length behind her to avoid being noticed by her loyal guards. You continue to walk by her after she takes her seat on the bench. Rounding a corner, you slip into the merchant tent behind the bench.
Your eyes quickly scan the tent for the merchant or anyone looking to buy anything. No one at all. The merchant must have left to the curtained back to get some more wares. A mischievous grin spreads over your face. Quietly, you sneak to the portion of the tent where the bench is and crawl underneath to the outside. Excellent! Not one of the two guards saw you, not even the Lady Templar.
A gloved hand races towards the hilt of your dagger that rests in its hidden sheath. The threat of the blade making noise, you slowly draw out the weapon and creep towards your victim. The black cord of the brooch rests on Lady Ysania's robes and not her flesh, this will be easier than you had thought. Your digits move at an extremely slow speed, the very speed of running kank honey. They pick up the black leather and you quickly make your cut and yank the brooch off of her neck. The woman shrieks in fright and you quickly roll under the canvas of the tent.
As fast as your long, elven legs can move, you begin to run towards the closest exit of the market. Snickering you slip the brooch into your cloak. "I truly am clever!" you say to yourself as you dart unnoticed into a dark alley. You lean against the wall and lower yourself into a squat. Might as well get comfortable, it may take some time before everything settles down.
You withdraw the brooch, the crystal sparkling in the dull light. This truly is the biggest accomplishment you've done in your life. You remove your mask and throw it aside; it shatters to pieces as it hits the ground.
As the final rays of the desert sun set over the great walls of Allanak, you find yourself residing in your favorite bar. The Gladiator and Gaj Tavern. Normally, you'd just come here for a couple mugs of Templar's ale and you'd go back to your pathetic excuse of a home in the 'Rinth, the lawless slums of Allanak. But not this night.
Snickering to yourself as you toss a brown, leather pouch into the air and catch it, you casually slip into a wooden barstool. "Templar's ale. Krath... Templar's ale for everyone at the bar!" you say to the dark-skinned barkeep. The barkeep snorts at you in disgust and harshly says: "Wut's da catch..? 'ow does I know you's pull'in a fast one ya long ear."
Normally, these racial remarks would cause you to snap into a fit of rage. But not this time. Your achievement of the day has made you invincible to everything Zalanthas could possibly throw at you. With a loud SLAM you slap the brown, leather pouch onto the stained bar top. The rattling sound from within the pouch that follows the impact causes the dirty barkeep to smile, revealing his yellowed and decaying teeth. Cheers can be heard from the other patrons sitting around you as they raise their ceramic mugs.
"Well... if it isn't the Elf who stole Lady Templar Ysania's brooch." says a voice from behind you. You turn to look over your dark leather-clad shoulder only to see a fist slam into your cheek. The mighty blow sends you sprawling towards the ground. Nothing can be heard, except for the loud ringing in your ears. "Well... are you going to hand it back? Or are prepared o reimburse her... with your head." says the voice. Weakly, you slowly lift your head to see who the assailant is. Your pallid eyes rest upon a human man garbed in... Templarate Guard armor? It seems like your good day is taking a turn for the worse.
"What the ******** are you talkin' about round ear?" you ask as you begin to climb to your feet. Without warning, the man strikes you with his foot. Your leather garbed form slams into the bar, sending bottles and mugs crashing to the ground. "Hold him!" the man commands to a pair of armor-clad dwarves standing at his side. They harshly grab your arms and subdue you.
With his arms folded behind his back, the man slowly leans forward and whispers into your ear. "You're not as clever as you thought... Elf." With every word that escapes his lips, you can smell the aroma of his horrid breath. "With me!" he orders his underlings as he forces his way through the busy crowd of the tavern, the dwarves dragging you as they follow their leader to the busy street of Caravan Road.
To avoid any injury to your legs, you try to move along willingly with your captors. People of various races and statuses stop what they are doing to watch the guards drag you away. To your surprise, they turn onto Vivadu Road. An area of Allanak, that's devoted to the arts of magick. Why there? The guards usually drag criminals to the Allanakki jail, right? To even more surprise, you're dragged into a temple of healing.
"What is it you want with me? It seems the brooch isn't what you’re after,” you nervously say to the man. There is no response from either of the guards as you're harshly dragged upstairs to the magicker barracks. The man stops before a large wooden door and opens it. With a gesture of his hands, the dwarves throw you inside the room. Your darkened cloak cascades over your form as your land on the wooden floor. "That's enough... you are dismissed. I can handle things on my own." he says to the dwarves. As you rise to your feet, you can hear their heavy boots as they leave. Even worse, you can hear the door closing.
"Pay me Elf. And maybe, just maybe. I won't turn you in.” the man says as he draws a jade-emblazoned obsidian sword. With your eyes locked on the vicious blade, you slowly begin to back up until you hit the wall. The sharp blade is placed against your throat and you swallow hard. "Four thousand coins, that's the price of your life. Can you afford to live Elf?" the man says as a menacing glint can be seen in his green eyes.
In fear of being killed, you bob your head in a simple nod. "Yeah... s**t... I got some coins in my belt." you say to the man as you weakly smile and raise your gloved hands into the air. The man nods and lowers his sword away from your neck. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you fish your hand under your cloak and feel around for the hilt of your longknife. As your hand wraps around it, your second hand jolts towards the location of your second longknife and you draw them both out.
With a last chance of survival, you lunge towards the man and stab forward. A smirk grows over his lips as he dodges your futile attack. "So be it... you shall die tonight!" he growls as he draws out a second sword made of the same black-green stone. Swiftly, you dive under a swing aimed at your neck. With little time to react, the second blade barely grazes your cheek, leaving its small bleeding mark.
Instead of attacking a second time, you make a run for the door, dropping one of your weapons to open it. You slip out into the hallway only to feel the man's weapon strike you in the back. Pain shoots through your entire body as he drives the sharp blade through your body. Your eyes grow wide as you see blood blossom from your chest, followed by the tip of the weapon.
Your energy quickly fading to nothing, you fall to your knees. Hands shaking, you drop the knife and it clatters on the ground followed by several droplets of blood. Your vision begins to darken and you hear the last thing you'll ever hear in your life. "You're pretty stupid for a 'clever' Elf, but now you're just a meal for the rats and the cockroaches."
