"Likewise. It is good to see you again, Lord Demiu."
''Indeed. I think the last time we came within hearing distance outside of combat was at the Tower of Time. How the months fly.''
"The months have indeed passed quickly, and once again evil has reared its ugly head. It is wonderful to have a respite from the never-ending war against darkness, if only for one night spent feasting with your fellow warriors and passing around stories."
''Indeed. I think the last time we came within hearing distance outside of combat was at the Tower of Time. How the months fly.''
"The months have indeed passed quickly, and once again evil has reared its ugly head. It is wonderful to have a respite from the never-ending war against darkness, if only for one night spent feasting with your fellow warriors and passing around stories."
''Aye. Wars, wars, quests, wars, creatures, invasions....t'is good to have a brief pause.''
"Very well, sir. I don't believe I caught your name in the Forest?"
OOC: Ah, okay.
"Albeis, of Vasilio. I was only there a short time."
"If it is all right with everyone, I would like to begin my story now. It's one of my favorites, as much today as when I was a boy. It's also, as I understand, a fairly popular one. You may have heard it before. However, I doubt that you have heard the version I will tell today. You see, I have only ever seen a single copy with the ending I am going to use. By chance, it came into my possession many decades ago, and for a time it was among my most cherished possessions. That was, until one day twenty-odd years ago when I met a pregnant woman, a farmer's wife already with five children, in a town not far from where I grew up. She saw the story, and read it, and enjoyed it. She told me she liked the hero's name, even joking that if her child was a boy she would name him after the hero in the story. I gave her the book, free of charge. I don't regret it, but sometimes I wonder what happened to that woman. Ladies and gentlemen, I present 'The Tower of Time'."
OOC: The story begins tomorrow. I plan to post it in four parts.
"Albeis, of Vasilio. I was only there a short time."
"If it is all right with everyone, I would like to begin my story now. It's one of my favorites, as much today as when I was a boy. It's also, as I understand, a fairly popular one. You may have heard it before. However, I doubt that you have heard the version I will tell today. You see, I have only ever seen a single copy with the ending I am going to use. By chance, it came into my possession many decades ago, and for a time it was among my most cherished possessions. That was, until one day twenty-odd years ago when I met a pregnant woman, a farmer's wife already with five children, in a town not far from where I grew up. She saw the story, and read it, and enjoyed it. She told me she liked the hero's name, even joking that if her child was a boy she would name him after the hero in the story. I gave her the book, free of charge. I don't regret it, but sometimes I wonder what happened to that woman. Ladies and gentlemen, I present 'The Tower of Time'."
OOC: The story begins tomorrow. I plan to post it in four parts.
Demiu looks around, inetrested. His thoughts go back to the Tavern, when the heroes of the world were assembled in preparation for an attack on the Tower.
Once upon a time, there was a hero. He did not label himself as such, but others did in later days and so that is how we remember him.
This hero had faced many challenges in his life, even staring down a fierce and mighty dragon that guarded his mountains jealously. But that is another story for another time and we shall not tell it here.
Though the hero had often found great success, he had also made many mistakes, and so he underwent a journey to redeem himself.
Deep into the desert he traveled, searching for a fabled tower known as the Tower of Time. Though wind and sand wore him down, the hero eventually reached the center of the desert and came to the Tower.
It was tall and grim, reaching up out of the sand like the claw of an ancient beast, but the hero was undaunted.
He strode forth into the Tower, determined to conquer it and right his wrongs.
In the Tower, he faced many fell monsters and overcame each one. On the first floor he found a Minotaur chieftain with the strength of many men, but the hero defeated him and moved on to the second floor.
There he discovered an enormous scorpion with claws like the snapping jaws of a dragon and a stinger on its tail as large as the hero himself, but this too was defeated.
The third floor was home to a bat like no other with long, white fangs that dripped with poison and wings that sent mighty gusts of wind at the hero when they beat.
Upon its defeat, the way was opened to the fourth floor, on which dwelt an angry and spiteful creature from days of old- a walking tree that wrapped the hero in its branches and held him tight so that he could not move.
But the hero won in the end, and marched up the stairs to the fifth floor, which was occupied by an ancient sorcerer, withered and bent with age.
Despite this, the sorcerer’s spells were strong and the hero barely managed to defeat him and press onward to the sixth floor.
On the sixth floor, he was met by a creature made of ice that chilled the room and frosted his hair and clothes before it fell to his blade.
When the hero reached the seventh floor, he found an earthen monstrosity that bellowed with rage and pelted him with rocks. Though its skin was as stone, the hero defeated it and moved on to the eighth floor.
There he encountered a being of pure water that drenched and nearly drowned him, but it too was unable to stand before the hero.
Cold, wet, and bruised, the hero walked the stairs to the ninth floor. The creature there was composed of fire, blazing hot and bright before his eyes. It danced around him, shooting sparks and flames, a strange sort of laughter coming from its smoldering maw until at last the hero defeated it.
The hero then came to the tenth floor, where at first he found nothing, until a powerful gust of wind flung him against the wall- for this creature was wind itself.
Try as he might, the hero could do little to harm such a beast, but even so he managed to conquer it and proceed to the eleventh, the penultimate floor.
Facing him there was a horrifying beast like a great tempest in the form of a man. The monster sent lightning and rain at the hero, pelting him until he could barely stand. When at last he defeated the monster, the hero’s sword was broken in twain and he felt a great lethargy like the energy had been sucked out of his bones, his muscles, and all other parts of him. And so it was with great difficulty that he came to the twelfth and final floor.
In the middle of that floor was a great and indescribable horror, a beast that changed greatly from one moment to the next, but was always comprised of patterns more intricate than the human eye can perceive. It was greater and more horrifying than anything the hero had seen before, for this was the beast of time, able to manipulate the world in ways that no other creature can. In one second, the world seemed slow and lazy, as though moving through water, and in the next quick, like the flash of lightning in the stormy sky. Sometimes events rolled back on themselves and sometimes it seemed as if the world had skipped a beat and was missing something that should have happened. This great beast the hero faced with only the shattered steel of his sword and he was defeated.
The creature enveloped him and he was lost in the great expanse of time, being sent from far future to ancient past in the blink of an eye.
He witnessed many of the great deeds of history, and many, many more of the minor ones, the little events that transpire every day that may not change the world in the slightest or, by the same token, may spread their influence further than one can imagine. Sometimes he saw people he once had known, but mostly they were strangers, whose stories he only caught the tiniest glimpses of.
Until the end of his days he was trapped there, in the vast expanse of time, but once, long ago, he managed to stop long enough to tell his story, and it was passed through the ages until it came to me and now I tell it to you.
Thus ends the tale of the Tower of Time and with it the tale of the hero Egol.
"If it is all right with everyone, I would like to begin my story now. It's one of my favorites, as much today as when I was a boy. It's also, as I understand, a fairly popular one. You may have heard it before. However, I doubt that you have heard the version I will tell today. You see, I have only ever seen a single copy with the ending I am going to use. By chance, it came into my possession many decades ago, and for a time it was among my most cherished possessions. That was, until one day twenty-odd years ago when I met a pregnant woman, a farmer's wife already with five children, in a town not far from where I grew up. She saw the story, and read it, and enjoyed it. She told me she liked the hero's name, even joking that if her child was a boy she would name him after the hero in the story. I gave her the book, free of charge. I don't regret it, but sometimes I wonder what happened to that woman. Ladies and gentlemen, I present 'The Tower of Time'."
OOC: The story begins tomorrow. I plan to post it in four parts.
Demiu looks around, inetrested. His thoughts go back to the Tavern, when the heroes of the world were assembled in preparation for an attack on the Tower.
Valithor likewise remembers the long quest in the Tower of Time in which the world was saved. This should be interesting, he thinks.
Outside the hall, the guards are mustered and begin training for battle. None of them know why, but they will follow their orders.
Troop Training: 25%
OOC: This is the right number for training 125 soldiers, right? We have three active members (Valithor, Alpida, and Kor), so we should be able to train 125 soldiers in 4 days.
