Musings of a Soldier ((Story: Journal))
By
Khellendrosiic,
Posted on: 2008-08-12 09:19 in Roleplaying
Begin recording
Date: Eleventh day, Sixth month, Two thousand eight years since First Riktification.
This being the continued recorded thoughts and mind of Chertak, second-generation of Creche North Seventy Five and proud Warmaster of the Honorable and Dedicated Lineage of War.
I can tell already that constantly glyphing the above will wear on me sooner rather than later, but Ill be exiled and cut-off before I abandon that formality. Its hard enough figuring out what to write down as it is and this is only my second entry! Hah, I can imagine the pencil-pushers back in the Lineage of Science crowing with astounded outrage as their pet project fails because it was put in my hands. Pencil-pusher happens to be a human phrase, one of the more amusing anecdotes that I have learned through my interactions with the android hero Solid Shot.
Ah, excellent, a topic leaps off the plate at me. Let me talk a little about the heroes of this world
First of all, I should remark that they are the most dangerous beings that this world has given birth too. But despite their awesome power, they do not turn its use to their own ends but instead to help the whole, which is a very Rikti outlook. Of course not every hero is equal to the rest and indeed they are a loosely united band of the most disparate individuals that I have ever seen or fought. And yes, for all their unity and singularity of purpose, they are yet their own selves as I have seen first hand. No doubt this will disturb your average workman or woman as they read this in their comfortable Semi-Creche, but that is what comes with an alien world; alien thoughts and ideas.
Excuse me for waxing long on the strength of these heroes, but I am still a soldier in heart and mind. I have seen humans in brightly colored spandex hurl Gravtanks through makeshift barricades, humans with nothing but the clothes on their backs wielding nothing but swords and their own wits and standing victorious over a mound of dead and wounded, and humans spewing flames from their hands and mouths as they refuse to give a single inch of ground. It is to my great shame that I also witnessed, and participated, in the deaths of such heroes; be it the other two Gravtanks overwhelming the spandexed hero with their combined main guns, the mentalists who rendered the sword wielding human into a gibbering husk, or the blade that I personally planted between the shoulder blades of the firey hero.
It may not mean much but after the Traditionalists made our peace and were welcomed by Vanguard I requested a certain amount of information from Paragon Citys databanks. I have glyphed letters to the remaining families of Captain Unstoppable, the Victorious Claymore, and the Inhuman Torch, among others. One day I hope that I will be able to send them.
Apologies, I find I must cut this recording short. Warmaster Chertak, Lineage of War, end recording.
OOC: I made those names up at random, hopefully the actual owners of said names won't get pissed at me for using them.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
Editor's Note: Seeing as how Cher'tak wasn't writing in English and that the translators are more than a little overburdened, I've tried to fix as much spelling and grammar as I can. Any mistakes can be laid at my feet and I'd be particularly glad if any further corrections could be sent to the Vanguard Public Relations office. Just title it 'Corrections' or some such and it'll get where it needs to go.
Begin recording...
Date: Tenth day, Sixth month, Two thousand eight years since First Riktification.
This being the recorded thoughts and mind of Chertak, second-generation of Creche North Seventy Five and proud Warmaster of the Honorable and Dedicated Lineage of War.
The Honorable and Dedicated Lineage of War More soon should we be titled the Blinkered and Dogmatic Lineage of Revenge with what our Most High and Infallible Lord of War has done to us. Ah, but I lead into accusations against my fellow Rikti too easily, something that would have been next to unthinkable before we were stranded and forced to learn the customs of this highly unusual planet, Earth.
As one of the last operational Warmasters on the so-called Primal Earth, it has been decided that I should put thought to glyph metal and record my observations, self-thoughts, and desires for the posterity of future generations. Far be it for this humble soldier to deny anything to those who shall come after him and the humans who will undoubtedly get their hands on this journal as well. What a human concept, the journal, a place where one writes down his innermost thoughts and desires to render them upon paper, visible to all, and lend them greater weight than if one simply kept these thoughts in ones own head. Needless to say, we Rikti generally find little use in scribing thought to glyph metal unless it is for military redundancy or simple rules that one would do best not to forget or ignore, such as Do not enter the cargo tunnel.
Ha ha That was an attempt at a more human brand of humor, a version that is much less thought provoking than standard attempts but nonetheless possessing an effective, if crude, mirth. Ah how I doubt readers of this journal will find much of value in its sheets and the musings of an old soldier with an aberrant thought-self due to his training. But if something good shall come of it, then I shall put thoughts down and worry not. After all, does not the Lineage of War exist to safeguard the future generations? And if I may assist simply by writing, then I shall be glad.
Hm, there goes the alarm broadcast. I really should find the technician responsible for the upkeep of the forewarning systems and inform him that the wavelength the alarms are set too is most grating. That shall have to keep as I must go and safeguard the future from my own people once again.
Warmaster Chertak, Lineage of War, end recording.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.