EZ_Punkture Shadowstabber
10-04-02, 09:30 PM
Before the story, I wish to explain what this is. This is the story of me, the way I would have liked it to have played out, if I was indeed my character. Not all names used will be EQ, but some will. I will continue to write this until the story ends. One day i may even publish it. There are so many ideas I have had and can easily write about. so..yea. I am a rogue, and this is my story.
The Story of a Rogue
Part 1
It was a hazy morning when the rogue awoke from deep slumber in his well-hidden cabin in the highland mountains above the forest dwelling of the dark elves. It had been a long night full of obscure dreams, some of which he was fighting the minions in a plane of altered reality. Needless to say, he was quite tired and grumpy when he awoke.
He had just put on his suit of leather when there was a knock on the door. Quickly he ran to it to see who it might have been at this ungodly hour. Strangely though, there was no one to be seen. All that remained of the mysterious visitor was a note on an old parchment upon his doorstep. He picked it up and began to read:
?The master assassin of Neriak wishes to meet with you. You will come tonight when the moon is at its peak to the Third Gate of the Dark Elven city. Tardiness is not an option.?
For a moment he was fearful of what one of the most powerful and influential elves on the entire continent would want from him. The rogue was summoned by none other than the famed, Tani N?Mar of the Ebon Mask. This was a man who could have easily had the rogue killed in a heartbeat. Instead, he summoned him to his guildhall within the tunnels of Neriak. The rogue was shocked. He was but a lowly thief. He had hardly trained his skills; he had nothing of great power or wealth, or the experience. At the same time he was excited beyond belief. ?What would he want with me?? he thought to himself.?
Little did he know it, but from this time onward, his life would never be the same. Night came with an eerie quickness. The moon was full that night and many unholy beasts lurked within the forests of Nektulos. The smell of sulfur lingered in the air. The nearby mountains spouted lava daily in a storm of fire. There was a thick haze throughout the dark woods, but the rogue made his way to the tunnel, which led to the elven city.
As he passed the city guards, he was met with a suspicious glare. They had not seen him before this day and had a right to be apprehensive to a newcomer to the lands. They had good reason to as well, though they did not know it. He was a rogue. Breaking the laws was as common as visiting the local tavern for a thief such as him.
When he entered the city, he was met with an awful and awesome sight. An arcane force was suspending a neon image of a bat in mid air. He was utterly bewildered. Smoke rose from the tower in front of him. The three sisters of the dark arts were chanting some unknown spell. What their purpose was, he tried not to think about it.
The rogue made a discovery while in this cold and dark cavern. He discovered his love of the darkness. At every chance, he roamed only within the shadows, walking as slowly as he could. He felt safe within the confines of the darkness, as if protected from all others. He slowly made his way through the darkness of the city. All of a sudden he was met with a whisper from the tunnel off the side of him.
?You are the one summoned, are you not?? the voice asked. ?I am,? the rogue replied. ?Come with me,? whispered the voice.? As he watched, a barely visible figure emerged from the shadow. His armor was that of chain mail, as black as darkest night. It made no sound as he moved. In his belt there was a short sword sheathed in black leather and a dagger with a hilt etched of bone. He had long ghost white hair and deep green eyes. His face was aged and scarred from many battles with unknown foes. The young rogue marveled in his presence. Perhaps one day he will be such as the one that led him onward.
Soon they came to a small door upon a raised area past the third gate of the city. On the crest of the hill there was a large bronze statue of a dragon. The door opened as if someone had opened it from the inside, but there was no one to be seen. The young rogue was led down two small flights of stairs, passing many doorways. They soon came to a great hall. A large table, laden with a feast fit for kings had been laid out. Rogues dressed similar to the one that had led him filled all chairs, except for two. One of these chairs was in the middle, between two of the older looking individuals. The other empty chair was at the head of the table.
To be continued...
Edit: Please read our sig rules. Personal pic and sig pic mustn't be more than 15 kbyte combined. - ShadowCross Edited by: Shadowcross at: 10/7/02 2:11:04 am
The Story of a Rogue
Part 1
It was a hazy morning when the rogue awoke from deep slumber in his well-hidden cabin in the highland mountains above the forest dwelling of the dark elves. It had been a long night full of obscure dreams, some of which he was fighting the minions in a plane of altered reality. Needless to say, he was quite tired and grumpy when he awoke.
He had just put on his suit of leather when there was a knock on the door. Quickly he ran to it to see who it might have been at this ungodly hour. Strangely though, there was no one to be seen. All that remained of the mysterious visitor was a note on an old parchment upon his doorstep. He picked it up and began to read:
?The master assassin of Neriak wishes to meet with you. You will come tonight when the moon is at its peak to the Third Gate of the Dark Elven city. Tardiness is not an option.?
For a moment he was fearful of what one of the most powerful and influential elves on the entire continent would want from him. The rogue was summoned by none other than the famed, Tani N?Mar of the Ebon Mask. This was a man who could have easily had the rogue killed in a heartbeat. Instead, he summoned him to his guildhall within the tunnels of Neriak. The rogue was shocked. He was but a lowly thief. He had hardly trained his skills; he had nothing of great power or wealth, or the experience. At the same time he was excited beyond belief. ?What would he want with me?? he thought to himself.?
Little did he know it, but from this time onward, his life would never be the same. Night came with an eerie quickness. The moon was full that night and many unholy beasts lurked within the forests of Nektulos. The smell of sulfur lingered in the air. The nearby mountains spouted lava daily in a storm of fire. There was a thick haze throughout the dark woods, but the rogue made his way to the tunnel, which led to the elven city.
As he passed the city guards, he was met with a suspicious glare. They had not seen him before this day and had a right to be apprehensive to a newcomer to the lands. They had good reason to as well, though they did not know it. He was a rogue. Breaking the laws was as common as visiting the local tavern for a thief such as him.
When he entered the city, he was met with an awful and awesome sight. An arcane force was suspending a neon image of a bat in mid air. He was utterly bewildered. Smoke rose from the tower in front of him. The three sisters of the dark arts were chanting some unknown spell. What their purpose was, he tried not to think about it.
The rogue made a discovery while in this cold and dark cavern. He discovered his love of the darkness. At every chance, he roamed only within the shadows, walking as slowly as he could. He felt safe within the confines of the darkness, as if protected from all others. He slowly made his way through the darkness of the city. All of a sudden he was met with a whisper from the tunnel off the side of him.
?You are the one summoned, are you not?? the voice asked. ?I am,? the rogue replied. ?Come with me,? whispered the voice.? As he watched, a barely visible figure emerged from the shadow. His armor was that of chain mail, as black as darkest night. It made no sound as he moved. In his belt there was a short sword sheathed in black leather and a dagger with a hilt etched of bone. He had long ghost white hair and deep green eyes. His face was aged and scarred from many battles with unknown foes. The young rogue marveled in his presence. Perhaps one day he will be such as the one that led him onward.
Soon they came to a small door upon a raised area past the third gate of the city. On the crest of the hill there was a large bronze statue of a dragon. The door opened as if someone had opened it from the inside, but there was no one to be seen. The young rogue was led down two small flights of stairs, passing many doorways. They soon came to a great hall. A large table, laden with a feast fit for kings had been laid out. Rogues dressed similar to the one that had led him filled all chairs, except for two. One of these chairs was in the middle, between two of the older looking individuals. The other empty chair was at the head of the table.
To be continued...
Edit: Please read our sig rules. Personal pic and sig pic mustn't be more than 15 kbyte combined. - ShadowCross Edited by: Shadowcross at: 10/7/02 2:11:04 am