MCG_Warface

Unfortunately, Chapter Three will have to be posted in six parts, because of its length (20 pages). A link will be provided shortly so that the book can be read in its entirety.

Book One: Origins

<ul type="square">Chapter Three: Betrayal[/list]
The cart rumbled and jerked along the dirt road, its wooden wheels creaking as it rolled closer to the Apennine Mountain border checkpoint. Master Akarist had instructed me to get in the back of the covered wagon with the wounded centurion that he had rescued from the temple. I was there to prevent him from causing a commotion should he stir on our way to the checkpoint. He had told me that the young man was someone very special and that if we were to leave him at the monastery, Caesar Augustus’ troops might find him, spot the outlawed symbol on his armour, and kill him.

At the time, I could not fathom why my master wanted to protect this man, why he cared that one Roman be slain by another. This soldier had come into our school and killed our people, my friends. Had I been there at the temple when the raid took place, I might have been able to stop it; I would have caught the treacherous dogs in the act and killed them outright. Alas, I was not there. Instead, that night, I had been out in the woods.

Master Akarist came to me at night, advising me to gather my cloak and leave without word. He took me into the forest on the outskirts of the temple. It was the season of l'inverno, and the moon was full and bright. He led me down into the entrance of the forest and gave me the ancient bow to hunt. He informed me that I was to stay there forest until my task was complete

It was my right of passage to become a man. Seven years had passed since the Germanic horde had raided our temple. As a boy then, I could not help the others to fight, nor could I ward off the behemoth that had tried to kill me. Now I would embark on one of many tests that would give me the means and the strength to defend myself. Beginning my training as an archer and as a hunter, I would test my mettle and prove my worth to the Archmages of Oranbega. My first task was to kill the dark wolf that was hunting and killing our flocks at night.

My hands were shaking as I reached for my arrow. I crouched low in the wet bushes, straining to hear the padded foot falls of my prey. I could hear the panting of the vile creature. He was close. I feared that he could smell me, sense my presence. I had tracked him for the last three hours and knew that I was close to taking the shot.

I silently parted the bushes and knocked the arrow on the string. As the wolf came into my focus, I saw something move beyond it, behind it. The wolf, sensing it too, darted off without making a sound.

I grimaced and lowered my bow, peering as far into the distance as the moonlight would afford me. What I made out was what appeared to be a crouching Roman soldier. I slowly backed up and made my way around the bush to get a better look.

Had my eyes deceived me? Why would a Roman soldier be hiding in our wood line? He could not see me as I was to his rear oblique, so I crept a bit closer. It was then that my knee knocked a rock off onto the ground, cracking against the other rocks.

The soldier turned toward my direction and without waiting I sprinted out of the tree line towards the temple as fast as my legs would take me. I had never run so fast in my life. As I rounded the corner wall, I felt a sharp sting on the side of my face, which brought me to a halt. The tip of a javelin had pierced the wall before me, grazing my face.

I gathered my bearings and started off towards the door while looking behind me at the soldier. It was at that moment of distraction that I ran headlong into a man who had been running in my direction. He was badly burnt. He hurriedly shoved me out of his way, knocking me to the ground as he ran towards the woods.

I quickly scrambled to my feet and ran inside the door, down into the chamber where I assumed that everyone would be.

As soon as I descended the staircase, the smell of blood and burnt bodies assaulted my nostrils. I looked down at my feet to see one of the younger children, no more than five, lay prostrate and lifeless, his neck half severed. It took all my strength and my own gnawing fear to prevent me from emptying the contents of my stomach onto the floor.

A Roman soldier lay on the ground face first, blood streaming from his head. His shield, which held the crest of a bull, lay next to him.

I had not even realised that I had been screaming when a hand reached out and grabbed my mouth.

"Tarixus, it is I!" My master's voice was calm and low.

I nodded my head, and he let go of my face. He looked down at the body of the unconscious soldier and then looked over at me.

"Help me carry this man upstairs," he commanded just above a whisper.

"But, master, more Romans are coming!" I pleaded, my voice rising.

"Quiet Tarixus!” my master hissed at me. “They have left. Now grab his legs while I take his arms. We have little time, and I have not the strength to lift him myself."

"But he is one of them!” I cried indignantly. “Why are we helping him?" I added, petulantly.

"SILENCE!” my master bellowed, and I stood rigid at his booming command. “It is not for you to question me, Tarixus!" he reprimanded me.

"I am sorry, master,” I apologised.

I was not used to being yelled at.

“I will help."

We carried the soldier up the stairs. He was heavy, and I was still scared that someone was going to find us and kill us.

We entered the crystal chamber, an area where I had begun learning about the arts of healing and rejuvenation. We set the soldier down on the floor where the green crystal glowed and hummed. The man did not stir. My master frowned and then knelt down beside him, placing his hands upon the soldier's head.

What happened next I could not be able to understand or explain for some years later. It was a strange sight to behold. I had seen the green crystal being used to heal before, but I had never seen a man, my master, perform a healing act by hand. He had no herbs or salves to use on the soldier. He did not even perform an incantation. He merely put his hands to the man's head. I watched in awe as the skin began to repair itself, and the wound closed. The soldier moaned and twitched briefly then fell back into unconsciousness.

"Will he live, master?" I asked.

"I cannot say,” he replied. “I have done what I can. We can only pray that he lives."

"I pray that he dies," I spat, outraged.

My master sighed and put a hand on my shoulder to comfort me.

"I understand why you feel that way, Tarixus, but there is more to this man than you can understand right now."

He paused and looked down at me, scrutinising my face. There was a warning in his eyes.

"You are not to harm him, Tarixus. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master. I understand," I replied, unsure of why he was looking at me the way that he did.

"Good,” he said, seeming satisfied with my response. “We will depart for Oranbega tonight. Ready the horses and the cart."

I studied the young man's face with contempt. I would admit that in sleep he looked peaceful, and was a handsome man. The armour he wore was as red as the blood that soaked the bandages that I had been told to lace across his forehead and face. On his right forearm was a tattoo of a bull, the outlawed symbol that my master spoke of.

I sighed and peeled the bandages off as carefully as possible. The blood was dry and sticky. I removed the dressings to find the large gash on his face completely healed.

I looked up through the small opening of the wagon to see my master wincing slightly, clutching at his side and then straightening up. I grimaced and looked down at the soldier once more, restraining myself from spitting on his face. My master had put himself in pain for this man -- why?

I shook my head and finished cleaning the soldier's wounds as I was instructed. I shivered as I felt a gust of cold air rush into the wagon. As we entered the foothills of the Apennine Mountains, I pulled the sheep hide closer around my body and the centurion's.

Master Akarist had told me that all outbound goods were checked to stop thieves from making off with Roman goods. The soldier and I were were hidden between grain barrels and well concealed under animal hides; however, I was still fearful that they might inspect the cart.

I felt the horses begin to slow their pace, and the cart come to a halt. A loud, yet unnaturally high, voice boomed from outside the wagon, and I dared to peak out through the small opening.

“You there, old man! Stop your cart!” the young legionnaire, commanded. He was maybe fifteen, no older.

“Well, what are you gawking at?” he said shrilly to my master and ordered him to get off of the cart.

“Young man, I am a simple skin trader and require passage to Southern Gaul,” my master said as he stopped the cart, examining the young legionnaire.

The horses were restless. Perhaps they had sensed that something was about to happen. The cart lurched forward a bit as the horses jostled about. As they did this, the wounded centurion let out a rather loud moan. I tried to cover his mouth, but it was too late.

“What in Juno was that?” the legionnaire said, spooked, like our horses. “Get off the cart old man! I will not ask you again!” he threatened.

Terrified, I slowly stretched my body over to the side of the cart to see what was going on through cracks in the wood. All I could make out was five or six legionnaires moving around to the back of the cart.

When it happened, it had happened fast. Thinking back on it now, seeing it through my own eyes as a child, it was a horrible, even nightmarish sight to behold.

The ground had opened up under their feet as the stone and dirt buried underneath became that of the living. Its hellish form appeared as arms that grabbed at and took hold of each horrified soldier, pulling them under the earth. They tore at the ground with bloodied and torn fingernails, screaming in terror as they were dragged under.

I saw the eyes of the younger one, the last one taken. He had such a look of fear in his eyes. He cried for his mother just before the stone hand pulled his head down with such force that it snapped his fragile neck, crushing his helmet.

I jumped out of the cart and ran to Master Akarist who was standing a few feet from the area that had swallowed the soldiers.

I looked up at him to search his face for answers and found that he was engrossed in the patch of dirt, rocks, grass, and blood before him. He was looking down with slight wonder at the gruesome sight before us, watching as the earth began to fully restore to normal with no trace of the bodies.

Smiling, he tore his gaze away from the ground and began to study his hands in mild amusement.

“Fancy that,” he laughed. “You know, I always wanted to be an Earth Thorn Caster in my youth, but they told me I had a greater propensity for fire.”

I stared at my master blankly. I expected him to be just as horrified as I was. Instead he appeared giddy.

“I said that out loud, didn't I?” he said as he finally noticed me standing beside him.

I hesitantly nodded my head in affirmation.

Master Akarist's grin quickly transformed into a grimace as his facial expression became serious once more, the demeanour in which I was accustomed to.

“Tarixus, mind not what you saw just now. I only do what must be done for the greater good. I pray that you will one day understand this.”

I shut my eyes tight and did not open them for the rest of our travel that day. I quickly fell asleep and had my own nightmares of ghoulish arms made of earth and roots pulling me down into the abysmal darkness.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[ QUOTE ]
Not sure if you want anybody commenting, so here goes.

Great piece. I like the characters and the dialogue so far. Great job trying to explain things without getting uber-nerdy. Keep up the good work.

Now, Warface, Dark Respite, and Blue Battler. Can't forget Grey and Riptide. My list of favorite authors is expanding!!

[/ QUOTE ]You will have to add Incognito as we are a writing team, and she is the real "Brains" of the outfit---not to mention she is a slave driver when it comes to writing.

Thanks for the comment, I welcome them and hope to leave you guys wanting more with each chapter.

A chapter every week or two will come if you like it

Book One: Origins

<ul type="square">
[*] Chapter Two: The Seventh Legion
[/list]
So you wish to know of the Black Tome, my friend? Of its origins, I am afraid I cannot tell you. I was never privy to that sort of information, in fact, very few of us were, even back then. I can only tell you when I first learned of its importance.

My story began in Cimerora where on the shores of our venerable land, a great battle would take place, causing a series of cataclysmic and irrevocable events that would eventually introduce me to a world that I could have scarcely imagined. In was in the year 10 B.C.E when the story of who I am began. It was in this year, during a most epic and deciding battle for my people, that I was given my first opportunity to prove myself as both a man and a soldier. I had just been appointed military tribune and was only some twenty years naïve; however, I had been with the Seventh Legion since I was granted the rite of passage as a man some seven years earlier and was not so wet behind the ears.

It was a glorious spring morning, but before the sun would set that day over three thousand Roman and Cimeroran lives would be lost in the valley adjacent to the port of Cimerora. Caesar Augustus knew that General Imperious and his troops guarded the secret Well of the Furies somewhere on our small island. If Imperious would not give up the location willingly, Augustus would take it by force. The mighty emperor wanted the power for himself, whilst Imperious knew that the Well had to be protected at all costs, never to be found.

Imperious' fear of the Well's discovery was not only that others would drink from it and become immortal like himself, but that powerful and cunning people, like Augustus, would align themselves with Romulus, Imperious' greatest enemy. So Imperious chose to avoid the anger and wrath of the young Caesar, attempting to placate him with offers of truce, proposing that the Cimerorans would dispatch of his enemies, the Germanic hordes, even the Parthians, allowing the Roman armies to swoop in after the battles were won, free to collect the spoils of war. All he asked for in return was that Cimerora be left alone as a separate nation. Augustus, however, would have none of this.

The Cimeroran men of the Seventh who stood in line with their ranks held no illusions. They knew that many of them would perish in the battle that lie ahead. The wind whipped sharply at the banners, while the Aquilifer attempted to steady the Seventh's standard. The Romans were coming. In comparison to the number of men standing behind Augustus' standard, the Cimeroran army appeared quite pitiful indeed.

General Nonius Paxius Asprenas, of Caesar's army, moved his Fourteenth and Nineteenth legions, totalling some ten thousand troops, from the beaches where they landed their rafts up to the heart of our valley. We were fortunate that they did not bring horses with them, but that was the only luck we were afforded. We, ourselves, had fine horses.

Do not laugh! I know you have visited Cimerora. It is a small island, I agree. Such an island is not accustomed to house such free ranging and spirited animals. You must understand, however, that before we were Cimerorans we were Romans. Of course, Romans were not exactly the most skilled cavalry men, but we were once the protectorate legion of the Spanish province. The Spaniards had taught us how to ride, but it was the Spartans who had inspired us. We took what we could from all the great warrior nations, and we adapted these skills to our own, made them our own.

General Imperious came down from his lofty tower of our walled palace and mounted his steed. He scanned the small valley below while his staff studied the map and bickered over the defence of our city.

Imperious had mustered the Seventh before the Roman ships had even been launched. How he came to this foresight no one knew at the time. Of course it was later to be revealed to me that it was Sister Solaris who had the vision of Augustus' two legions approaching, and Imperious reacted quickly, summoning the Seventh, the only legion at home, to the front line.

The mighty Seventh itself was led by General Igneous Trajanus, and his legion numbered some five thousand seasoned veterans. For its emblem, the Seventh took a bull, a symbol popular in Spain then as it is today. This symbol appeared on the shields and standards throughout the legion.

Though he would never admit it, Imperious was particularly proud and vain of his Seventh Legion and expected much from us young tribunes, all young officers like myself who could be referred to as veterans in anyone's eyes.

It was I who was assigned liaison of the Seventh to General Imperious. Sitting as regally as I could on my horse, I too, nervously, surveyed Augustus' troops in formation on the valley below.

Imperious was grimacing as he shook his head and brought his horse over to mine, looking at me with stern eyes.

“Marcus, a word, if you will,” he said as he gently placed his hand on my shoulder and ushered me away from the remainder of the staff, just out of earshot.

I nodded my head and walked my horse along with his. Judging from his demeanour, I could only assume that whatever news he had to relay would not be wholly fortunate, for me.

“I have a problem, Marcus,” he started and turned his horse around to face me. “I fear that Augustus' legions will not stop until they have destroyed the city, until they have found what it is they are looking for.”

He paused and chose his words carefully.

“You are one of my most trusted and capable officers, Marcus.”

Inwardly I was shocked at his words. I was a young man at the time, but I was not foolish. I knew his words spoke volumes of wisdom. The emperor was proud and arrogant, but he was also clever and resourceful. He wanted something from Cimerora, at the time I knew not what, and I knew that he would not stop until he captured it. He would kill every last man, woman, and child to get it. Pax Romana was just that, Roman peace -- no one outside of Rome was allowed such a luxury. What did shock me, however, was the amount of confidence that the general had placed in me. I can not lie to you and say that I was not greatly honoured by his words. Imperious, however, I would learn much later, was just as cunning as Augustus; he played to my vanity of pride.

“Marcus, I need you to take the turmae praetorium and conduct a special mission for me,” he said, shaking me from my ruminations.

“For the glory of the Seventh!” he bellowed with a half smile on his face.

“It will be made so, General! For glory and for honour!” I smartly blurted out.

Imperious' smile faltered, and he brought his horse directly beside mine so that we were intimately close.

“Marcus, we will not survive the continued onslaught of Caesar's forces for long. We may drive off these legions here today, but he will send more the next day and the day after and so on.”

He paused and leaned in closer, pressing his lips to my ear.

“There is a tome of great power guarded at the Oranbega temple, just outside the walls of Rome.”

I frowned. The Oranbegans, to my knowledge then, were a dark and mysterious order. The fact that their temple was just outside Rome's city walls unnerved the most stoic Roman and Cimeroran alike. The only reason that they were not persecuted or crucified was due to the large amount of coin that they contributed to the Roman coiffures -- that and the rumour that Augustus himself was a secret member of the cult.

“Marcus, I need you to retrieve this book for me, without delay. The temple I am sending you to is only a training facility, a school for boys. Kill only those who get in your way; try to spare the children. There will be several mages there, but only one who will be of a serious threat to you, and he will no doubt fight. Do not let his age or appearance fool you. You must be cautious. You and your men must be prepared. There will be ... terrible things there.” He sat back up and looked me squarely in the eyes.

“Are you functional, Marcus? Are you prepared for this mission?” he finally asked, and I did not hesitate.

“Yes Sir! I will not fail you,” I said with deep regard.

“Your men are waiting for you on the eastern shore. Ask for first spear centurion Geminius. I wish you luck, Marcus.”

Imperious inclined his head slightly to me and waited for me to salute him before he returned to the camp to join the other generals.

I hesitated. I was about to leave my home for Juno knew how long. I had no time to set my affairs in order.

Imperious watched as my eyes began to glaze over, deep in thought.

"Marcus, is there something you wish to say?" he asked.

I shook my head, embarrassed. It was too much for me to ask what I was about to.

"If I am to be absent for so long, sir, I was wondering if..." I trailed off, not knowing how to phrase my words properly.

"You wish for me to bring Callista into the castle," he said as if he had read my mind.

"It's just that she has no family here, General. I hate to impose, but she and I have only been recently engaged, and I have not yet had time to put my affairs in order. I would offer her to stay at my father's house, but my younger brother and his new wife are there and have just recently conceived ..." I trailed off.

"Marcus, what you are doing now is for the greater good. How could I not offer my service to protect what is yours? Consider her a most welcome and respected guest in my home until your return." Imperious smiled and then added, "I shall have my guards dispatched to your home immediately to bring her to the guest quarters."

I smiled, relieved by this. If the battle were to go ill today, I would at least know that my Callista would be safe. I thanked and saluted Imperious who smiled in return and rode off.

After saluting and facing about, I turned to gather my chosen cohort who were waiting for me on the shores. I could not help but feel a deep conflict within my heart. I would miss the battle, a battle where many of my friends and even fellow Romans would die a warrior's death while I was sent on an errand to retrieve a book guarded by an old man and some children. What good was this book? What could it do that the swords of the mighty Seventh could not?

While busying myself with such heavy thoughts, I subconsciously steered my horse towards the eastern shore of the island where my party awaited. As I dismounted my steed, I was promptly greeted with a salute by first spear centurion Geminius who met me just outside the castle walls. I returned his salute with fever and kept it longer than I should have, by rank alone.

You see this was Gauis Geminius who until that very morning was known as Praefect Geminius, Imperious' second in command, the acting ruler and administrator in Imperious' absence. Since a praefect could not quit the city walls for more than a day, Imperious had temporarily demoted Geminius, reducing him to his military rank before becoming a praefectus urbis.

“Tribune Servilius, let me bring you up to speed,” Geminius spoke to me in formal tones, ever the officer and politician.

Before becoming praefect, Geminius was a skilled soldier and tactician. He was a no nonsense man. He gave orders, and people followed them. He was, after all, Imperious' most trusted man. I had met Geminius on several occasions and found him to be, if nothing, a gentleman and a diplomat. He was, however, some twenty five years my senior and most likely unaccustomed to being commanded by a young tribune.

“In due time, centurion Geminius,” I said, trying very carefully not to emphasis his inferior rank to my own, but still asserting my authority and leadership to both he, myself, and the alert and impatient soldiers that closely surrounded our persons.

“Gather the turmae and have them prepare at the eastern docks. Ensure that we have enough food for the journey to Rome. Tell the men this and nothing more.”

I did not want the men, some of whom I had known since a child, to know that they would be abandoning the Seventh in battle today. It would only be an act of extreme demoralisation.

If Geminius had been affronted by my assertion of rank and leadership, he did not show it. He simply nodded his head, clicked his heels together and stood straight, bringing his clenched fist to his chest, saluting outwards. I returned his salute with a thin and forced smile. I watched him disappear around the corner, towards the castle doors to go make arrangements.

I brought my hand up to my face, covering it with sigh, taking in a deep breath. Composing myself, I brought my head back up high and walked my horse towards my own tent outside the castle. Just then I heard the cornicen sound the call to move. Standards held high, I watched the men of the Seventh march in step across the plain with a rhythmical tramp and the rattle of equipment. Discipline was rigid and other than the blowing signals of horns and the sound of footsteps in unison, no sound could be heard save the wind in my ears.

On the flanks I saw our cavalry secretly move into position towards their ambush spots. The plan was brilliant. They knew that once the enemy infantry moved out their archers would be exposed. The ambush spots were hidden behind the mouth of the caves. Our men would be lying in wait for them. Once the infantry would pass, the cavalry would ride in and destroy their archers, leaving their milites gregarius without supporting fire.

More importantly though we had the higher ground; we had the vantage point. I was confident that we had the tactical advantage. It was ten thousand against five thousand, but they were invading our land; they were treading on our territory. If only we had known that the Romans were supported by the Circle who had discovered the cavalry before we could even mount our assault on the archers.

That is of the past; however, there is nothing that I can do about it now. In that moment, however, I was sure that I was about to miss an impressive and historic victory of Cimerora over Rome.

Shamefully, I gave my horse to one of the stable boys and slipped into my tent. I heard the sounding of the charge, a deafening roar as the lines rushed down the hillside, and I could not look back. I was leaving my friends; I was leaving the victory grounds.

Gathering extra weapons, I left my tent and walked down the narrow pathway that led to the docks. The farther away I got from the battle, the more I burned inside. As I approached the ship, Geminius and two of his discens approached me.

“Sir, the ship is prepared. The men are ready.”

“Very well, we will cast off immediately,” I replied. “Set sail for the port of Misenum. I will brief you all along the way.”

With a nod from Geminius, who now realised that there was very little to catch me up to speed on, handed me a large portfolio and walked the deck of the ship, supervising the cavalry now turned navy.

I briskly walked over to the door of my cabin aboard the Triremes with portfolio in hand. Sitting down at the desk, I opened the leather bound book and spread out the papers. In limited detail were Cimeroran reports on the temple of Oranbega. Little was known about the Circle and where its true lair lie. What we did have were sketches of the training facility and current Circle activity.

I closed the book and sighed heavily, resting my head upon the cool wooden surface of the table. It was a dark day indeed, and I was weary and weak with shame. I grabbed the Spanish wine out of the basket near my bed and began to drink. If I could not get these thoughts out of my head, perhaps the wine could. Feeling the ship lurch forward, casting off, I cast off my own vessel of wine, drinking like a man dying of thirst.

Although my journey to the port of Misenum and travel to Rome held their own dangers, and in some cases comical tales, it is immaterial to this story. You see, what happened at the Oranbega temple had and has forever shaped my life.

Perhaps it was only fitting that it was on the Ides of March that we chose to conduct our raid. The moon was at its full height, and all the soldiers were anxious for the mission. I had briefed all of them on the power of the mages guarding the tome, and we came prepared, for the most part. We had been given amulets by an Asian cleric in Misenum that were supposed to ward off any dark magiks. We had also obtained a small, crude map of the location of the temple, which was nestled on the outskirts of the palm groves three leagues to the north of Rome itself.

I trusted my men, and I trusted Geminius with my life. Although he had spent the last decade as a city magistrate, as a commander, I also knew that Geminius was a very capable leader and soldier in the field of battle. He was a leader of warriors, and I was happy to have him by my side.

It was cold the night when we decided to launch our assault. I recall shivering uncontrollably in the night air, blaming my shakes on the temperature. The truth of the matter is that I was frightened, terrified of what magical terror wait in store for us. Yet at the same time, I was excited and exhilarated at the opportunity to prove my worth to Imperious.

As we advanced towards the temple, three flashing signals from a torch on the ridge told us that our little raiding group had indeed surrounded the temple and were prepared to enter from two different directions. Geminius had the group from the south, while my force approached from the north. The remainder were set as a cordon force on the outskirts to ensure that no one escaped or, for that matter, interfered.

As I approached the temple with my fifteen soldiers, I notice three figures dressed in dark robes who I initially mistook from a distance as tree stumps. They were motionless, positioned in an eerie and peculiar manner. My men and I crept closer. With gladius in hand, I crouched down and led forward when the two men flanking me abruptly screamed in horror as they burst into flames.

I immediately dropped to knee next to the wall on the outer yard of the temple. Looking back, most of my men were lying flat on their bellies, frozen with fear at the sight of what had befallen their comrades. Gathering my courage, and attempting to slow my heart that threatened to leap from out my throat, I moved at a speed that I did not know I was possible of performing. This was my first realisation that there was more to me than a simple soldier.

I struck with precision and steel as I squarely sliced the throat of the first mage, swinging in an arc while crouching, taking the legs off the second. The third tried to scream at me in a foreign language that I could not understand. As he ran off, I found myself materialising through the air like an electrical current, coming down on his person with my blade slanting downward, delivering a powerful blow to his spinal cord. He failed to make it to the entrance of the temple.

As if waking from a dream, I looked down in abject horror at the broken and severed body limbs lying at my feet. The bodies were smoking as was I. Red lightning emanated off of my body in waves. After a moment my body felt as though it had cooled down. The red lightning was gone. I looked back towards my men. They were beginning to stand up, and all of them were as white as ghosts in the moonlight. It was the look in their eyes that let me know that what had happened, what I had done, was no dream.

“Sir, how did you...” one of the soldiers began.

I cut him off before he could finish asking a question that I could not even begin to understand let alone answer.

“Let's go,” I sharply fired back, and we entered the door of the temple.

Lighting torches, we moved down one of the tunnel-like halls as quickly as our armour and equipment allowed us until we heard screams coming from beneath us, down a separate long, dark staircase.

“This way,” I yelled as we turned and moved downward into the abyss.

I moved with restless and impatient haste as my soldiers struggled to keep up. I could hear them talking behind me, but I was unsure of what they were saying. As I entered the room, Geminius was there, and all around he and his soldiers were the bodies of children and several of the mages. He had massacred them all.

Before I could speak, he pointed his sword past me at the wall behind me, showing me a book encased in crystal. As I turned to look, I felt his blade press against my neck and my own soldiers stripping my person of my weapons.

“Against the wall, tribune,” Geminius emphasised my rank with disgust.

“What is the meaning of this?” I bellowed. My ears were deafened with the sound of my own blood beating, boiling, and coursing through my veins.

“Romulus sends Imperious his regards,” Geminius said with a sneer.

Just then I felt a sharp pain to the back of my head as I was clubbed from behind. I hit the table with my face first before falling to the ground. I was half in and out of consciousness as I heard the traitors whisper to one another, my name being mentioned several times. Perhaps they were trying to decide whether or not to keep me alive to deliver Romulus' message, but what I really suspected was that they were conversing about the display I had given the men earlier.

Blinking my eyes open several times, I weakly tried to open my mouth to speak, to tell the foul traitors to kill me now before I killed them when suddenly I felt a current of hot air blow over my head accompanied by horrible screams of agony as everyone in the room burst into flames.

“Foolish mortals! You killed innocents for the wrong book!” a low and commanding voice boomed.

My head felt like it was on fire; my body felt like it was being crushed; my mind felt groggy and invaded. What little I could make out was Geminius, badly burned, trying to retreat from the awful voice, the invisible force behind me. I saw his body lift into the air, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

“Go run and tell your master that he has invited war of the worst possible kind unto his kingdom. Run now, before I change my mind and tell him personally.”

I watched Geminius drop to the ground and then struggle to gain his footing and take off blindly into the night. I was glad that the thing behind me had not killed him. I wished that pleasure for myself.

Grimacing at Geminius' betrayal, I quickly began to lose consciousness again, but not before I heard the same commanding voice address me.

“And you, you can inform Imperious that even he is not welcome to use the tome. He will have to find another way to fight evil,” and he then added softly, “my friend.”

My last sight was of an old man in robes leaning over me before the darkness overtook me, before I slipped into the dark realm of dreams and saw the angelic face of my Callista, covered in blood.


--------------------------

Roman Terms (definitions):

<ul type="square">
[*]tribune - a military tribune had the rank of Captain by modern comparison[*]Aquilifer - a senior signifier bearing the standard. It was a position of enormous prestige (immediately below the centurions)[*]turmae praetorium - personal guardsmen of the praefect[*]turmae - a 30 man squadron of the cavalry (however, in this case they are referred to as a trained group of soldiers, much like the immunes)[*]praefect urbinis - city magistrate -- represented the ruler or caesar when absent (usually when the ruler was on campaigns)[*]cornicen - a trumpet sounding war[*]milites gregarius - basic recruits (foot soldiers)[*]discens - soldiers in in training to become immunes, specialists within the military (engineers, field medics, carpenters, and craftsmen)[*]gladius - Roman sword[/list]

Book One: Origins

<ul type="square">
[*] Chapter One: The Master and the Student
[/list]He could never be one of us; he could never want to be. He sat alone, surrounded by followers who, with inquisitive eyes, waiting on baited breath for his imparted wisdom. He always seemed to be in deep, silent, brooding contemplation over any topic, including afternoon tea.

He never raised his voice. He never objected. He rarely spoke out of turn, but then that was because no one else ever spoke in his presence. When he lectured, he was a general, and we were his willing fodder. He commanded respect. He commanded awe. He was a monolith. He was a Titan.

Peering at him from behind poorly lit flambeaux, we all whispered his sayings, his teachings, to one other in the ancient language that we had been taught since infancy. We sat in silence, huddled around him: some sitting on pillows, others cross-legged on the cold ground, a scattered few perched on the cracked and nitre-encrusted rocks. The most enamoured of us stood near him, hanging on to his every word in admiration, while the rest half-listened from the shadows. All we hoped for was that one day we too might take our places among the great ranks of the Circle of Thorns and serve him as humble and fledgling Thorn Casters. He was our master, our father, the only father we ever knew.

What we knew about our father was very little. He was an ancient sorcerer of immense power. His age we could only guess at. We knew he was an advisor to King Leonidas (a direct descendant of Hercules himself) in the year 480 B.C.E. Our master was there when Leonidas halted the armies of Xerxes at the Battle of Thermopylae in the Season of the Sun. It was even rumoured that our great master was there when the Titans themselves ruled the Earth.

My origins, or rather my beginnings, however, were much more humble and far less dated. I was not witness to living legends or ancient myths. I did, however, come to adolescence during the Age of Augustus, Pax Romana. It was a time when the Empire was immense and powerful. Augustus, born Gaius Octavius Thurinus, was the first Emperor of Rome. He ruled the land with vision and guidance while staving off the border nations and their hordes.

I was no patrician; however, no soldier. I was only a boy who stole glances outside my master's walled temple. I rarely ventured outside while citizens, slaves, and traders went about their unimpressive lives. You see, I was an individual of books. I placed my faith in my master and in his teachings and longed for more knowledge. I knew that if I was patient enough, he would eventually teach me the great magiks, terrifying powers that I had once witness him use on, what I was led to believe at the time, a Germanic raiding party that had infiltrated the temple to steal the Black Tome, an article of power that our mages guarded zealously and fanatically.

I remember that specific day clearly. I was no older than seven and was fetching water from the well outside the temple. I heard a muffled cry and then a loud moaning and gurgling sound coming from the other side of the enclosure. As soon as it began; however, it had stopped, and just as suddenly, a mad, frenzied demon launched over the top of the wall with amazing speed. I dropped the wooden bucket of water and found myself unable to move, frozen with fear. I felt a wetness run down my leg as I thought I was surely about to die.

The horned devil approached me, his smoky breath materialising from beneath his nostrils. He raised a great axe high above his head, blocking out the sun, determined to blot out my life as he did the light. Eyes shut tight, I awaited my fate. Instead of the swift falling of his axe upon my head, I heard a guttural cry burst forth from its thin and cracked, black lips. I looked up and saw his ragged body burst into flames, erupting blood from his chest and mouth like a fountain. His blood was boiling; his skin was melting. It was as awful retch-inducing sight.

In the same instant, I felt my body being pulled back through the air and flung onto the ground. Wincing at the taste of both dirt and blood in my mouth, I kept my face down, daring not to look up at what had so easily flayed and incinerated a demon.

“Rise, my son” my master spoke quietly, shaking me from my fear. “They are gone. There is no need to be afraid any more.”

I looked up to see his sage-like face searching my eyes with his own. I met a calmness there, but I also noticed his trademark contemplation. Outwardly he appeared collected and unaffected, but inwardly I sensed worry. Not that my master had anything to worry about or fear for himself. I believed that he was afraid for me. Perhaps it had something to do with the demon that had attacked me. I was aware that the Circle had dark and mystical creatures in its service. Was this one of them? Why was that behemoth trying to kill me? I was a follower. It did not make any sense.

Shaking the disturbing cobwebs of my meditations, I shook my head and gave my master a strained smile of gratitude as he extended his hand to me, helping me to my feet.

“Thank you master,” I said while shaking uncontrollably.

I wiped the blood off of my face with my bare arm, and spit the dirt out of my mouth. I resisted the urge to cry as I looked back up at my master who was now leaning over me, raising an eyebrow in jest with that same kind smile still stretched across his face.

“Go wash up, son,” he ordered softly. With an afterthought, he added, “Do not look at the demon's body. Just wash up, and go inside. I will come visit you later tonight.”

“Yes master,” I replied, obediently, then ran as fast as I could to the well; however, I could not help myself from looking down at the now black and ashen body suited in strange armour.

Abruptly looking away, I dismissed the image of the horrible thing and quickly ran over to the well to wash the blood from my face and hair. After thoroughly rubbing my tender skin raw and red, I turned heel and headed towards the temple, forgetting to complete my original task of bringing in water.

As I stumbled, out of breath, up the temple stairs, I tripped onto the stone floor. One of the older students, bloodied from battle himself, reached out and caught me by the arm, helping me back up to my feet.

He was tired and dirty, but I was pale and ashen, blood still wet and sticky, seeping through my worn garments. Out of the two of us, I, as the younger, looked the worse for the wear.

The older boy, still trying to catch his own breath, glanced past me, searching, then looked down at me with genuine concern etched in his eyes. He placed both his hands on my shoulders and looked me squarely in the eyes. He looked as though he had something important to say. I waited patiently for his query.

“Tarixus, what happened? Where is Archmage Akarist?”

<ul type="square">
[*] Book One: Origins

Part 1: Pax Romana Ch 1-4
Part 2: The Knights Templar Ch 5-8
[*] Book Two: Gods of Science
[*] Book Three: Dedecus Angelus
[/list]
“The annals of our current hostilities are now all but lost. What was never forgotten was the planned date for Armageddon: July 25, 2007, the Second Rikti Invasion. A prophecy, written in blood, had foretold our ruin. The revered and holy tome would provide a glimpse into our future, a future where technology ruled; where our fate was decided by one man. It was the priests who believed, above all else, that the technology would save us all ... They were fools.” ~ Archmage Akarist

-------------------------------

Meus Profiteor

<ul type="square"> [*][translation] My Confession (or confession of my sins)[/list]

-------------------------------

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
Where do you get the statue from? I have a really good idea that that would be perfect for.

Thanks so much.

[/ QUOTE ]

The statue is the Mystic Adviser Control Aux item. You craft it on one of the Forges. (I want to say the 2nd one.)

*****

Not sure if this would count as an "item" or not... but here's a mountain I build out of rubble and various random arcane junk: (note that since the base is an undersea lab, the room is normally very dark blue, but I had to turn the lights up so you could see any kind of detail in the screenies)

Starting at the bottom.
The base of the mountain, and the Tunnel that goes through it.

The Tunnel Entrance. I'm goin in, around the bend, I can see the light, at the end of the tunnel, and emerge into some sunken ruins.


Here's the View of the lab from the Mountain Top, and a view of the mountain through the Conference Room Windows.

[/ QUOTE ]Good Lord

Server: Vitue
Character Name: DEIM0S
SG/VG Name: Dealers in Darkness
When do you crash: In News Paper Missions halfway through
Does it affect all characters: No
Does it affect only characters in one or more SG's or VG's: Yes

Welcome Sunstorm, glad to have you!

We dismantled the FUSION base in preparation for I13 They pyramids are gone.

Incredible work. 10 out of 5 stars!

[ QUOTE ]
How about a 54 month Teleport to power instead of a rehash of the priors?

Now that would be a useful power, time it out like the team tp vet power.

That would be a great reward!!

[/ QUOTE ]Agreed.

[ QUOTE ]
ewwwwweewewewew! *does the spiderwebdance*

[/ QUOTE ]Spider Zek Spider Zek doing whatever a Spider zek do.........mmm hhmm hhhmm mm hmm hmm du du du du du du du........... NA NAAAAAA Here comes da spider zek.

[ QUOTE ]
lol You're in 7.5! I bumped you up from like 9 or 10!

[/ QUOTE ]Still gives you a wet willy

[ QUOTE ]
Yeah I know It's actually more like 7.75 because I slipped in a couple earlier between groups.

[/ QUOTE ]Gahhh I keep getting bumped. Gives Zek a wet willy!

[ QUOTE ]
ok cool so it wasn't just me about that tank looking out of place lol

[/ QUOTE ]Crey baby Crey! They branch out for technology!

[ QUOTE ]
Nice!

Can I ask how you did the smoke effect along the bottom?

[/ QUOTE ]PhotoImpact particle effects. &lt;----non talented cheater.

Presenting RHYOLITUS, VEAT PROJECT COSTUME CONTEST WINNER

I am still not happy with the blast effects from his gun. I just dont know how to do it other than lens flare. I tried using different layers forming a blast effect and it just looked weird. Other than that I like the way it turned out.

Boy do I still have far FAR FAR to go to even come to 1/50th of some of your skills.

Every time I see your stuff I just sigh..........


I tried to use a bit of foreshortening (is that the word?) with the gun. Hope that worked.


Here he is in game Money Shot

[ QUOTE ]
Well, since we're on the topic of stretching the genre, I'll give a few suggestions.

WWII: Blue Side, fight Nazis and save the Jews, bomb Nazi camps, and fight the Japanese in Pearl Harbor and Iwo Jima. Red side, fight the Allies and round up the Jews, prevent attacks, lead attacks on other Nations, and fight in Pearl Harbor. I'd want to see it like suggested before where it's a copy of the same zone, but different for both sides. (Meaning that its not PvP, but it is the same zone as for the other side.) Access at lvl 40.

Prehistoric Times: For prehistoric times, I want something like RWZ where it's cooperative, or as mentioned above. For mission and story ideas, i want to fight random swarms of small dinosaurs as they emerge from the trees, (which would be treated as doors), large dinosaurs as they roam the jungle, fight alongside or against cavemen, save people from dinosaurs/provoke them to attack others, and save humanity by bringing species back to the present, like in the Star Trek movie, where I believe they were saving a whale because it was the only thing that could talk a certain language. A main feature here would be a dinosaur you can tame, being able to call it forth from the past every two hours. Access at lvl 20.

The Future: I want to see flying cars, huge skyscrapers, robots, cybernetics, and flying policemen. For this, I say we do something like Grand Theft Auto. Red Side, As you destroy/steal things, police will begin to chase you, then bring in larger and heavier weaponry and more troops, till you get to a certain threat level, you are granted debt protection till you zone and a xp bonus, about a normal missions worth. Then, as you reach higher and higher threat levels (Probably going up to 5 or so, which would take about 2-4 hours) you'd have mounting xp bonuses, and more things attacking, until they send a massive wave that has to kill you. Blue Side, your job is to stop any villains, with regular attacks by them every few minutes. (Note, this will be villain gangs of the future, not big AVs) Then if you thwart enough of their attacks, an EB will attack, having a good sized gang with him. If you defeat him, you will get a mission sized xp bonus. Then, the gangs will riot (We're talking a mass outbreak of villain groups, somewhat like troll raves, except all over the whole map) ,which is when you get the most xp. The whole map would be scaled to lvl 40, (Like how Rikti are scaled to 30), and you would have access at lvl 30.

Fantasy: No matter what people say, I want a fantasy zone, with humans, orcs, elves, trolls, undead, and dragons. I think, you should be able to join a side, (one of the ones above), and then deal out mayhem to the other groups, gaining ranks in the faction. Then, as you grow, you are granted important missions in the faction. Newspaper missions would be things like raiding camps and caravans, or kidnapping royalty. This would be a pve zone, copied over and seperate. Access at lvl 25.

Not exactly relating to zones, but Vehicles. After all, almost all the superhero/villains had some type of vehicles. I think, with this, you could add a outerspace zone, (See SWG, but make it much better.), where you fight others like rikti in your space ships, or you can chases with villains/heroes, either in a Catch the Bad/Good Guy type, or in a Get to X Location First type mission, which would be another great addition, and also get more console gamers to our side. You could even buy an customize a super group vehicle, then fly it around and do SG missions, only accessible from your base, if you have a sg vehicle.

So those are my ideas, and guess what devs, if you do some of those, things like WoW won't know what hit them, because people will start leaving them pretty fast. You'd at least get a lot more money, with which you can advertise on TV/Internet. After all, I think if more people knew about CoX, they'd play it, they just don't know.

[/ QUOTE ]I like some of your ideas ALOT~!

BASE RAID GLAD TEAM:
Using a Gladiator type system, ability to assign up to 15 other boss mobs as teammates in place of your no shows during base raids. They function as normal boss mobs and will defend key intersections (hopefully tied into guns and forcefields that you have emplaced) on aggressive mode.

Looks great, thanks for the spot!

Group7 yay!

[ QUOTE ]
Hi guys... so, maybe you remember my secret attic , and how I was going to fill this space with a loft?


Well, I've (finally) finished it! yay!

Here are a couple shots of what it looks like from the lower floor:

under the loft 1
under the loft 2

Overhead views:
attic and loft 1
attic and loft 2

And some closeups of the loft interior:
cozy corner
serious biznezz

whew!

Dunno how long it's gonna last, 'cause there be a hella lotta bookcases in there!

[/ QUOTE ]You have become a True Master! Awesomeness!

Very nice!

Thats really nice!