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Aerthanel: Katabasis

Aerthanel: Katabasis

0 INK

In the realm of Aerthanel on the world of Raenel, rumors echo forth from the deep and war looms on the horizon. It is up to a group of unlikely heroes to delve in search of the truth and decide the fate of their world.

804 readers have visited Aerthanel: Katabasis since AstrologicDeath created it.

Introduction

It began with a gasping breath, an upright start, and an opening of the eyes to impenetrable pitch black. Forgon blinked again and again as his pupils strained to take in some modicum of light, but found nothing to convince his mind that he had opened them at all. He would have thought he had gone blind were it not for the fact that it was silent as well. Forgon knew he was not deaf because he could hear just as he felt the frictions of his own movements against the rough stone on which he lay, he could hear the rushing of blood through his ears, a sound that frightened him in its confirmation that he was in fact alive and awake.

How did I come to be in such a place? Forgon wondered. He had no memory of the immediate past, no recollection beyond putting another log on the fire and laying down on his straw mattress for a rest. Somehow though, he felt that that could have been weeks or hours ago. What is happening to me?

Forgon called out into the darkness for help, and no one answered.

He called out again, and again nothing; not even an echo.

He called out to his mother and father, but they were long dead, and could not hear him.

He called out to the Five Gods in turn, though he had never believed in them.

He called out to anyone, anyone, for help, but there was no-one.

"Who are you?" Forgon pleaded, his voice sore and gravelly from the strain, "Why am I here?"

From nowhere, a voice issued forth in response:

SUBJECT SCAN INITIATING

Suddenly a throbbing hum surged into Forgon's ears, and a pressure grew upon his body from everywhere at once. Cracks of blue shot across a smooth surface all around him, outlining an almost perfectly cubic room with no apparent exit. A column surrounded by a ring on the floor and at the ceiling stood stood at the center, where the steadily intensifying lines converged. Suddenly, the hum raised pitch to a whir and then a whine, and the lines brightened until Forgon was overcome by the light. He buried his closed eyes into his elbows, but the light still seemed to force itself into his eyes, almost as if it was permeating his body. He was too afraid to scream.

SUBJECT ACCEPTABLE

And then nothing.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Forgon awoke, he was slumped against a rock wall on a narrow outcropping, looking out over a vast forest. He stood up carefully, surveyed his surroundings... He had seen this place before; it was a place he came to rest during his long days spent hunting. But as he turned around, he noticed something that had not been there, something big. Two great square pillars carved into the rock led up to a lintel to form giant opening, as if a door had been opened into the mountainside. The edges were so finely carved into the ancient stone that he nearly cut his hand on the pillar.

Forgon stood for a moment, peering into that pitch black maw and suddenly realized he knew what was down there.

He knew why it was built.

He knew what had happened...

And that it would happen again soon.



* * * * * * * * * * THIRTY YEARS LATER* * * * * * * * * *



Joran took another sip from his wine goblet, slamming its gold rim down onto his finely carved elderwood armoire and stared into the mirror, arms akimbo. His face was red as a ripe tomato, which was good. Joran thought he always did his best thinking when drunk, and his best talking too. He pushed his tawny hair behind his ears and smoothed his finely patterned brown robe. Then he rubbed his hands together vertically just below his nose for good measure. Those things seemed to Joran like things that were good for a noble courtier to do while waiting.

The door creaked and Joran saw it crack open in the mirror, a guard poked his visored head through.

"The Bastard's here to see you, sir Joran," the guard announced.

"Good, good," Joran barked, beckoning jerkily over his shoulder, "Send him in."

The guard disappeared and in through the door stepped a rather short, olive skinned man whose dark brown hair stood up in random peaks and tufts, like a pile of twigs strewn about by a child. His wide set shoulders and stocky figure fit well into his plate body armor, but he seemed somewhat uncomfortable in it. A scar along the man's right jaw showed him to be experienced in battle and yet did little to mar his prominent nose and chin, traits for which women called him handsome. As soon as the door closed, the man spoke up.

"Sir Joran," He said as he gave a slight bow, "While I am aware that I am referred to by my familial status, I request that you have your guards address me by my given name." A tension in his voice betrayed an effort to keep himself polite.

"Davin Fisher," Sir Joran responded, pivoting to face the man, "After your seven long years of service to House Faerthen in the King's Court, it would be foolish to expect them to break a habit so firmly entrenched."

Davin tried exceedingly hard not to roll his eyes, trying instead to make the gesture appear to be a glance around the room.

"At least you weren't born on the seventh day," Joran grinned, "then you'd be called Davin Priest, and you'd be begging people to call you Bastard!"

Davin was not laughing. "At any rate, I have come to place myself at your lordship's disposal."

"Wonderful!" Exclaimed Sir Joran, scooping up the goblet as he turned back toward his desk to pour himself another cup of wine. "Davin, my Uncle spoke very highly of you." He sat down, swirling the wine in the goblet as he stared at the armored man. "You've no connections, you've no honor, and you're someone House Faerthen can trust completely. For these reasons, you are perfectly suited to a task I have in mind."

Davin raised an eyebrow. While these three factors had always been a benefit in Davin's line of work, Joran's predecessor and Uncle, Beiran, had at least the courtesy not to say so to his face, as even the latter could be construed as insulting in an environment like the King's Court.

"The Cult of the One has been spreading like plague in the North," continued Joran. "Not only have they invented their own religion, they are claiming large swaths of land. There are even rumors they've found something powerful in the mountains up there. But most egregious of all..."

"They refuse to pay taxes," Davin finished the sentence.

"I want you to infiltrate that cult, Davin," Joran paused to slurp his wine loudly. "Find out what they have found down there, and then report back to me. This will be the coup that seals our permanent favor with the king, finishing the work that my Uncle has..."

"On one condition, your lordship," Davin cut off the nobleman. At this point he wished he was cutting off the nobleman's prick, but his sentence would have to do.

"And what would that be?"

"On my return, I wish to marry one of Beiran's daughters."

Sir Joran burst out laughing, nearly spilling wine on his lovely brown robe, as Davin glared.
"Davin, you know I can't arrange that! The very idea of a Faerthen daughter marrying a Bastard..." Joran laughed some more. "Come now Davin, if you return having successfully performed your duty I'm sure the king will elevate you to his High Guard. He might even grant you a title and then, just maybe, we'll see. Now, off you go. I've... a meeting with... House Ramina... to discuss... tariffs." It appeared that Joran had nearly laughed himself to sleep.

"By your leave, sir Joran," Davin said as he bowed, already on his way out.
He slammed the door behind him, heading down the hall and out into the courtyard, through the castle gate and toward the Prince's Head Inn. It was several dank alleys off the Castle Road but in Davin's experience it was the only place for a stiff drink once a bunch of nobles had made you feel horrible about yourself.

Davin sat down at a table in the corner, flipped the barmaid a few coppers and indulged in the inn's worst ale. Not until he was good and tipsy did Davin even consider his mission. Being no stranger to "field work", Davin knew that this was not the kind of task one would undertake alone. So, as he ordered himself another round, Davin scanned the inn for possible candidates for traveling companions.

Toggle Rules

This RP is super-closed. I have set it up for a few RL friends to just have fun in. Otherwise, I am not planning to accept requests for characters to join in the near future. Please do not feel offended if you are denied. However please feel free to read and give constructive advice. I am new to the forum so I am not entirely sure how that would work. Enjoy.

For my friends:
The initial setting is Aerthanel, a human kingdom. If you want to make a character that is nonhuman or demihuman, make up a place for them to be from, just make it small or distant.

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Re: [OOC] Aerthanel: Katabasis

I agree with the above! This roleplay caught my eye, and I'm hoping to see it grow. Good luck!

Re: [OOC] Aerthanel: Katabasis

Gah. All the good roleplays are closed.
Anyways, I just wanted to say I very much like the way you set this up. Wonderful introduction. Completely captivating. I may just stalk this role-play for a little while, if you don't mind of course, because I am enraptured, and would very much like to find out what is going on and what direction this might begin to take. Very nicely done.

[OOC] Aerthanel: Katabasis

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