Post by MorningStar on Feb 24, 2007 21:52:19 GMT -5
The path unto true power is one less traveled, for it is fraught with peril and danger. Each step, whilst bring thee closer to thine goal, will also endanger your immortal soul. Wouldst thou give up thine chance at redemption, thy very existence in this life and the next? Then come, child. Allow my to place thine footsteps upon the path to true greatness, and guide thee in thine search for The Ultimate... - Author Unknown
Our story begins in darkness. Not the blackness of night; this is nothing more than the mere absence of light. No, we speak of the darkness of the grave, the emptiness that can only be found within the cold embrace of the afterlife. No sound, no light...no existence. But even in such desolate surroundings, there are always seeds of life reborn. A ray of hope, a glimmer of truth, call it what you will, but always it is there. And now is no exception as a single pinprick of light, alone in its fight against the darkness, winks into existence. Another follows its brethren in the fight for life, followed by a third, then a fourth. Hundreds, thousands, millions join, the innumerable multitudes striving to push off the oppressive darkness which seeks to smother them...
Stars, thousands of them populate the heavens, some bright, some dim, some already dead, their departing rays their only farewell. The stars begin to spin before your very eyes, ducking and weaving. The sky itself takes on a ruddy tint, sooty red and burnt orange… a sight seen once before. Fingers of flame lick at the sky, and our view changes to encompass its source. A bonfire, easily ten foot across with flames roaring twice that high. The constant crackle playing tricks with your mind is the spitting and hissing of the green logs, and the heat is almost intolerable. Yes, we’ve been here before… and nothing good has come if it.
But tonight there are no shambling figures, imitating their totems is a sickening parody of animalism; tonight there are no skulls, beads or feathers to decorate and adorn the scene with ritualistic beauty. The only thing that remains the same is the altar; a massive block of obsidian jutting out from the ground, seemingly grown from the very earth; carved by time and the elements to perform it’s ungodly duties. From behind the stone, we hear a stifled laugh, a mere chuckle suppressed behind tightly pressed lips. Our perspective changes once more, panning around the altar to find out champion sat there, sprawled on the ground with his back pressed hard against the obsidian.
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
This is where it all began, y’know? This is where it all went downhill. On this very spot a young kid, with the world against him, screamed to the heavens for guidance, committed vile acts for an impotent Godling and thus was damned for eternity…
With his free hand – the other holding a now ever present cigarette – he reaches behind him, looking up as he gently caressing the stone with his fingertips…
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
…So many innocents, and for what? For power? No, I already had my Children… For strength? No, for I was already young and strong… For fortune? It couldn’t have been… I’d already I was a champion…No, it was something deeper than that. My entire life I’ve been shunned and scorned by a world that showed no compassion… maybe acceptance was what I sought? No no, lets call a spade a spade. Quite simply? It was fear which drove me that one step further. It was pure, unbridled, unchecked fear which sent me spiraling down that dark, lonely road to damnation. I had something to hide behind, someone to finally turn to when the world was against me…someone to keep me safe from the world… Pah, I’m getting maudlin in my old age, I swear…
He drops his hand, taking a final drag of his burning cigarette before flicking it into the blaze. He seems distant; his eyes far away as he watches the flames twirl and pirouette like crazed dancers.
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
When I look at you, David… it’s like looking into a mirror. The young warrior out of his depths, worlds away from humanity, constantly fighting for his life against the world itself. But it’s not the odds that bother you, is it David? For you it’s the adrenalin rush of the battle, the heady, joyful sensation of flight, the warm glow of the win… I know exactly what you are David, and know exactly what you’re doing. It’s a matter of pride for you; so that one day you can look the world straight in the eye and say “NOW I stand on top, NOW I look down on you… NOW I am the victor”. I remember it, David, I remember it well…
Mental runs a weary hand over his gaunt face, in the ruddy firelight seeming much, much older than his just past twenty age. He leans his head back against the harsh obsidian.
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
Cards on the table, Calaz, one day you’ll make it. One day you can look down on the world and sneer, knowing you’re better than them. But by whatever puny godling you believe it, Calaz, you’d better believe that day is no time soon. It’s taken me many a year to reach that stage, to be able to shrug of the fetters of the past, the chains of evil and finally reach the stage where I am proud of my life. Do you really think I’m going to give up my ultimate goal, my day in the sun for someone who’s journey is just beginning? Call it experience, call it paying your dues… call it whatever the hell you want to, David. But your feet have only just set upon the path, and the only way you’ll get this belt is by following that path all the way to the end. This is but another step, David… nothing more.
His muscles tense hard in leg and abdomen, then he uncoils, hauling himself to his feet. With a short hop he perches himself on the altar, hands clasped in front of him, cradling the oval of gold; his proof of conquest, his trophy of war.
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
This first step is always the hardest Calaz, most people never get beyond it. But I have faith in you, youngling. After I’ve dashed your dreams of taking what is mine, I know you’ll pick up the pieces of your shattered dreams and reforge them into something stronger, something unbreakable. THEN you’ll realize exactly what needs to be done. You’ll push yourself to the limits of endurance, take pain and punishment upon more pain and punishment. You’ll live, eat sleep and breathe it until finally, like a well forged sword, you’re both honed and deadly. Then, and ONLY then will you be willing to take on The MorningStar once more. I know what you’re thinking, David… “It’s all bluster. He’s only human, he has a weakness.” And all the other deceits the young tell themselves. But when you’re laying there, the stagelights blinding you, nerves shot from the power of the Cerebral shock and fears of ever wrestling again flashing through your mind… Remember my words, Calaz. Remember that the first step on the road to greatness is the hardest, and that after that your journey will truly begin. On my hope of Salvation and Rebirth, These are the words of The MorningStar…
Heed Them Well, David…
With that, the camera pans back to the bonfire, slowly diffusing to black, until all that’s left is the dancing flickers of light, and the crackling roar of the great fire. And slowly, like the world itself, the roar fades to nothing, until darkness...TRUE darkness...is all that is left...
Our story begins in darkness. Not the blackness of night; this is nothing more than the mere absence of light. No, we speak of the darkness of the grave, the emptiness that can only be found within the cold embrace of the afterlife. No sound, no light...no existence. But even in such desolate surroundings, there are always seeds of life reborn. A ray of hope, a glimmer of truth, call it what you will, but always it is there. And now is no exception as a single pinprick of light, alone in its fight against the darkness, winks into existence. Another follows its brethren in the fight for life, followed by a third, then a fourth. Hundreds, thousands, millions join, the innumerable multitudes striving to push off the oppressive darkness which seeks to smother them...
Stars, thousands of them populate the heavens, some bright, some dim, some already dead, their departing rays their only farewell. The stars begin to spin before your very eyes, ducking and weaving. The sky itself takes on a ruddy tint, sooty red and burnt orange… a sight seen once before. Fingers of flame lick at the sky, and our view changes to encompass its source. A bonfire, easily ten foot across with flames roaring twice that high. The constant crackle playing tricks with your mind is the spitting and hissing of the green logs, and the heat is almost intolerable. Yes, we’ve been here before… and nothing good has come if it.
But tonight there are no shambling figures, imitating their totems is a sickening parody of animalism; tonight there are no skulls, beads or feathers to decorate and adorn the scene with ritualistic beauty. The only thing that remains the same is the altar; a massive block of obsidian jutting out from the ground, seemingly grown from the very earth; carved by time and the elements to perform it’s ungodly duties. From behind the stone, we hear a stifled laugh, a mere chuckle suppressed behind tightly pressed lips. Our perspective changes once more, panning around the altar to find out champion sat there, sprawled on the ground with his back pressed hard against the obsidian.
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
This is where it all began, y’know? This is where it all went downhill. On this very spot a young kid, with the world against him, screamed to the heavens for guidance, committed vile acts for an impotent Godling and thus was damned for eternity…
With his free hand – the other holding a now ever present cigarette – he reaches behind him, looking up as he gently caressing the stone with his fingertips…
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
…So many innocents, and for what? For power? No, I already had my Children… For strength? No, for I was already young and strong… For fortune? It couldn’t have been… I’d already I was a champion…No, it was something deeper than that. My entire life I’ve been shunned and scorned by a world that showed no compassion… maybe acceptance was what I sought? No no, lets call a spade a spade. Quite simply? It was fear which drove me that one step further. It was pure, unbridled, unchecked fear which sent me spiraling down that dark, lonely road to damnation. I had something to hide behind, someone to finally turn to when the world was against me…someone to keep me safe from the world… Pah, I’m getting maudlin in my old age, I swear…
He drops his hand, taking a final drag of his burning cigarette before flicking it into the blaze. He seems distant; his eyes far away as he watches the flames twirl and pirouette like crazed dancers.
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
When I look at you, David… it’s like looking into a mirror. The young warrior out of his depths, worlds away from humanity, constantly fighting for his life against the world itself. But it’s not the odds that bother you, is it David? For you it’s the adrenalin rush of the battle, the heady, joyful sensation of flight, the warm glow of the win… I know exactly what you are David, and know exactly what you’re doing. It’s a matter of pride for you; so that one day you can look the world straight in the eye and say “NOW I stand on top, NOW I look down on you… NOW I am the victor”. I remember it, David, I remember it well…
Mental runs a weary hand over his gaunt face, in the ruddy firelight seeming much, much older than his just past twenty age. He leans his head back against the harsh obsidian.
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
Cards on the table, Calaz, one day you’ll make it. One day you can look down on the world and sneer, knowing you’re better than them. But by whatever puny godling you believe it, Calaz, you’d better believe that day is no time soon. It’s taken me many a year to reach that stage, to be able to shrug of the fetters of the past, the chains of evil and finally reach the stage where I am proud of my life. Do you really think I’m going to give up my ultimate goal, my day in the sun for someone who’s journey is just beginning? Call it experience, call it paying your dues… call it whatever the hell you want to, David. But your feet have only just set upon the path, and the only way you’ll get this belt is by following that path all the way to the end. This is but another step, David… nothing more.
His muscles tense hard in leg and abdomen, then he uncoils, hauling himself to his feet. With a short hop he perches himself on the altar, hands clasped in front of him, cradling the oval of gold; his proof of conquest, his trophy of war.
<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
This first step is always the hardest Calaz, most people never get beyond it. But I have faith in you, youngling. After I’ve dashed your dreams of taking what is mine, I know you’ll pick up the pieces of your shattered dreams and reforge them into something stronger, something unbreakable. THEN you’ll realize exactly what needs to be done. You’ll push yourself to the limits of endurance, take pain and punishment upon more pain and punishment. You’ll live, eat sleep and breathe it until finally, like a well forged sword, you’re both honed and deadly. Then, and ONLY then will you be willing to take on The MorningStar once more. I know what you’re thinking, David… “It’s all bluster. He’s only human, he has a weakness.” And all the other deceits the young tell themselves. But when you’re laying there, the stagelights blinding you, nerves shot from the power of the Cerebral shock and fears of ever wrestling again flashing through your mind… Remember my words, Calaz. Remember that the first step on the road to greatness is the hardest, and that after that your journey will truly begin. On my hope of Salvation and Rebirth, These are the words of The MorningStar…
Heed Them Well, David…
With that, the camera pans back to the bonfire, slowly diffusing to black, until all that’s left is the dancing flickers of light, and the crackling roar of the great fire. And slowly, like the world itself, the roar fades to nothing, until darkness...TRUE darkness...is all that is left...