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Post by The Mammoth on Mar 22, 2010 13:43:09 GMT -5
Mammoth stood in the gate of Findlay, the city he had once come to every year for trading the furs the Wyrris had made hadn't changed a bit since he was a kid. It was strangely loud however, it sounded as if there was rioting. Mammoth's helm remained under his arm, his blade in its sling as he entered. The closer he got to the sounds, the more it sounded like it was a manhunt than a riot. He couldn't see much before a "woman" on some creature rode past him, her face showing terror. She was fleeing quickly. Mammoth watched as she rode by, noticing the horn on her forehead.
That image shot through him like an arrow, as the first thing that hit him was the possibility Dace had already succeeded. She looked like a demon. But, Mammoth controlled his emotions and looked around. There were no signs of destruction, and the demon was fleeing. The single horned demons tended to be unintelligent and would attack even faced with insurmountable odds. She was fleeing from battle, and on an animal. The many things that can live in this world, Mammoth knew better than to think they were all various forms of human. Almost everything he knew about the demons said that she was not one, yet the rabble chasing her was obviously convinced...
Mammoth stood in the road staring at the men that had gathered. They were equipped with swords, shields, makeshift armor, pitchforks, anything they had. They stopped upon running into the imposing figure Mammoth presented. He stood there staring at them before a man from the front started yelling.
"You there! Where did the demon girl go?" The man demanded.
Mammoth scowled, shaking his head and not answering.
"You're gonna protect a demon!?" The man screamed, the crowd behind him gathering fury behind his rabble-rousing.
"What says shes a demon?" Mammoth responded calmly.
"What do you mean? You see that ****ing horn!?"
"Yes. I did. Did she attack anyone? Did she kill anyone? Steal anything? Did she even speak to anyone?"
The crowd paused for a moment and came to a consensus of no.
"So... What exactly, besides having a horn, has she done?" Mammoth questioned, a smirk on his face.
The crowd mumbled and rumbled among themselves. They were shuffling their feet and their resolve was crumbling.
"Wha'did we do to the elves when we first ran into them? Before we learned what they were? There are no signs of demons here. Just a poor creature that wandered into town."
The crowd started to nod, agreeing that they were overzealous, but the man in front was not about to back down so easily.
"You're gonna let her go!? She's got a d**ned horn, at least humor the fact she COULD be a demon!" He said, before the crowd reinforced that sentiment with a chorus of agreement.
"Tell ya what... I'll look into it..."
"And why should we trust this to an outsider?"
Mammoth smirked and reached back to his sword, pulling it with one arm, and spinning it in his hand before sticking it into the ground in front of him.
"Because I asked ya to, as a friend." Mammoth responded with a grin.
Only a few realized what image Mammoth had just given them. If any remembered the Wyrris, they kept it to themselves, but that type of sword could have been identified by any learned man. They understood he was on their side.
They agreed and went their own ways. Mammoth pulled his sword from the ground and placed it back in the sling. He wasn't sure that she wasn't a demon, but he acted the part that he was. The last thing he needed in this situation was to get civilians involved. He kicked the dust over the hole in the ground from his blade before turning toward the direction the girl had fled.
Walking for a while, he stopped near a small inlet in an alleyway and knelt down. There were no tracks on the ground, but Mammoth knew that the creature she was riding should have left some. He shook his head, considering the thought that he was wrong. Perhaps things had changed, and the demons were no longer the ones of lore. He looked up from his kneeling position, looking in both directions down the alley. Leaving this alleyway toward the trader's market, or back toward the mob. He opened a door nearby which led to a gorgeous courtyard. It had been kept very well by someone, and it was large enough to be a good hiding spot. Mammoth was almost sure that she had ducked in here. If her type had never been seen in the city, she'd have likely spent time in the wilderness, and would feel a level of safety in here, even if it was man-made.
"Where are ya? No use hidin' from me."
(Note: Liberties taken with actions of Ze's character were okayed first.)
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Post by The Mammoth on Mar 9, 2010 22:48:47 GMT -5
NOTE: Read the prologue first (see thread) or some stuff might not make sense here. ---------------------------------- Name: The Mammoth, or simply Mammoth Age: 23 Height: 6'3'' Weight: 330 lbs Appearance: Mammoth is a large man, muscular and powerful as a result of his training. His head is shaved, but his dark blonde and brown facial hair, a full beard stands out well. He wears a massive set of plate armor, but it is seemingly custom made. The interlocking plates and joints allow for great movement, as if he was unarmored, seemingly his strength allows for him to move rather easily, and with good mobility. He is rather well cut physically, but carries many scars across his chest and face that look like wounds from the animals that reside far to the north. His smile is calm, but remains intimidating. There is a intense sense of loss when someone looks into his eyes, which are a deep blue. His massive blade usually resides in the special sling on his back, which hangs it diagonally across his back. Appearance of Mammoth in his armor: Weapons: Mammoth carries a large Claymore that seems to be standard for the Wyrris people. It holds much renown in legend, and most learned people can recognize one. None but the Wyrris can weild it. (Aside: That being said, it has been a long time since anyone has seen a Wyrris, as the few remaining died on the expedition against Dace. Most believe that the Wyrris are long dead.) The sword itself has a wide, thick blade, and its hilt is nearly a foot and a half in length. The blade itself is around 6 feet in length. Personality: Mammoth is rather brooding due to the loss of his brother and his return from exile. Prior to his exile, he was a lighthearted young man who was quick with his tongue and tended to joke around even in a tense situation. He seems at a loss for how to proceed with his hunt of Dace, and anyone who talks to him can obviously tell there is something troubling him. (more will be revealed as the thread goes on) Abilities: Mammoth has unprecedented strength as a result of his training, possibly only surpassed by his late brother. He is an expert tactician, due to his extensive study of military strategy, and has great willpower due to his promise to never give in as well as his training, he can take extreme physical punishment. He has no magical powers or abilities.
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Post by The Mammoth on Mar 9, 2010 22:47:38 GMT -5
Here it is, read the first post as the build of the world.
Essentially, a massive planet, it would take 100s of days to cross is, countless races (pretty much, you can do anything you want, as long as you don't God Mod).
As for my character, this a complete restart of my character Mammoth, so ignore all past threads. I am aiming for something a bit less "anime" and more serious with my character.
If you have any questions, ask me here.
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Post by The Mammoth on Mar 9, 2010 22:45:15 GMT -5
Prologue:
The fire cackled as it shifted, sending embers and dust toward the sky. As the embers floated up, they began to glow bright before disappearing into the night sky. The warmth of the fire burned a uneven circle in the snow. A small rodent had taken refuge from the snow in the warmth of the fire, sitting by the fire and cleaning itself. Opposite the rodent sat a towering man holding a small skinning knife. The man was carving a small piece of wood into a spear, the shavings of wood flying off and smacking the fire, spitting sparks. After a few hours, the man held up the spear to his face, inspecting it. His scarred face flickered in the light of the fire, his few yellowed teeth smirking as he could see the spear was satisfactory. As he lowered it, his dead left eye, white from the blade that had cut through it all those years ago, shined in the orange light. It didn’t move. With a flick of his wrist, the rodent that was sitting opposite the fire was impaled by the small foot long spear. The man held it over the fire, and later ate it.
This man, calm and collected, had been hunting a mage for over 10 years. This man was the legend, Lion. A behemoth of a man, standing at nearly 7 feet tall, weighing over 450 pounds, he was known the world over as a harbinger of justice. His scarred body and battered armor were all that remained. His hard life had taken its toll, as he looked worn and wrinkled. In his mid thirties now, he looked as if he was fifty, his wrinkled face contemplating the creature he had been chasing for so long. He was close, and he knew it. Soon, his journey would be over
It had been years since Lion had been home. He left behind his only remaining family, his 8 year old brother. His parents were long dead, killed in the plague that ravaged his people. He and his brother were the only ones left. He did his best to raise his younger brother, but he was a warrior, not a father. He knew better than to think he should raise children, as he was too harsh and foolish to be a good father. He regretted the fact that he could not be there for his younger brother, but he knew that his brother was a smart kid, and strong beyond his years. Lion hoped that he would be okay, but knew that his own purpose mattered far more.
A legend carried by his people, the Wyrris, the Northern Barbarians, of a great evil far stronger than the combined might of the world. His people had lived since the dawn of time, protecting the world that they lived on from the threat of this returning monstrosity. For ages, they warred with any being foolish enough to attempt to control this great evil, and since the dawn of time, they had never faltered. But, two thousand years ago, they remembered a time they failed, and the terrible price they paid to seal the creature back to its home.
A powerful cult had found out about the demon, and sought to resurrect him. The Wyrris, arrogant in their strength, believed themselves unstoppable due to their overconfident new king and recent successes against the cult’s leaders. Their complacency turned out to be their downfall. The remaining cult acolytes successfully conjured the demon, and the end of time began. For the next twenty years, the demon systematically killed nearly all living beings on the planet. When a mere 15% remained, the Wyrris prepared their greatest sacrifice. For their foolishness, they used their own souls to seal away the demon. All of their power as the world’s chosen guardians, unleashed in one massive cataclysm. In unison, they completed a ritual they hoped never to need, sacrificing all but a few dozen of their people to return the demon to its prison. Not even the lord of the underworld wants this blight upon him, as the demon finds himself was returned to nothingness.
This was their punishment for their failure. They had imprisoned the creature again, but had destroyed their own race in the process. The remaining Wyrris set about destroying any evidence of the creature, in hopes that it would never be brought back if there were no lore to learn from. They thought they had succeeded, as the few that remained were never bothered, never had to leave their noble home atop the Northern mountains...
Now, all that remained were two. The Wyrris had failed again. A mage, known as Dace, had discovered how to resurrect the demon, and had set about doing it over the past 10 years. It often took a lifetime, but the relative power of this mage was far beyond anything the Wyrris had ever faced. They feared for the worst. An expedition, led by Lion, was set out with the last Warriors of the Wyrris to hunt down Dace. Lion was the only man left, and a return to the Northern Mountains found nobody remaining. His younger brother escaped, returning to the mourning Lion right before he left to hunt down the mage. Lion knew he had to finish the job, and ten years had passed since his younger brother told him not to fear, and to do what he was destined to do...
Lion sat by the fire, having forced the mage to flee into a small port town. He needed his rest if he was to finish this fight once in for all. By the time the dawn came, Lion set out toward the town and its massive bonfire in the center. The mage was waiting there, knowing his defeat was coming...
When Lion arrived, there was nobody left alive in the town. That was not his concern. He knew the world was doomed should he fail to stop the mage here, and he refused to fail. 10 days of battle passed...
The battle had come to an end, and Lion was victorious.
“Ahh... The legend...” Dace laughed, coughing out blood. “Can it, Dace... Do you understand what you’re reviving!? He would have ended everything, including you... I couldn’t let that happen.” Lion spat out. “Hrmm... I guess we’ll... never know if I could control it....” Dace said. “You couldn’t... That is why I stopped you...” Lion said, gutting the mage, and ending the journey. His people had not died for nothing.
As he left the port town, he stopped at the bonfire and looked at it, his journey was over, and he felt a sense of relief...
“But you only secured my victory.” Dace said, laughing. Lion spun around, raising his sword, and was impaled by a spear of bone. He gasped for air, blood shooting out of his mouth as he coughed. He stared a risen Dace in the face, his body, dead as before, animated there. Lion fell to his knees, the legendary warrior, fading to nothingness.
“You see, the people of this town were my preparations for undeath. The demon comes to exterminate life, but can those already dead do more? When I complete my work, we’ll know. The interference of your race dies with you.” Dace said, disappearing into thin air as Lion began to fade.
Lion kneeled there, his blood running down the spear into the bonfire. He tried to hold on to consciousness, but it only reminded him of his failure. How had their noble race fallen so far? As he began to give in to the darkness that awaited him, he heard a familiar voice.
“LION! LION! no....”
A hand touched his shoulder, and he opened his eyes.
“Mammoth...” Lion said.
“Lion, don’t talk... I’m getting’ ya out of here...” Mammoth, his younger brother, only barely an adult, was here.
“No... it’s over for me... Brother... I have failed you... I have failed our home... I have failed our ancestors. You were always smarter than the rest of us. Don’t make our mistakes... Don’t forget... for...”
No other sound but the wind and the cackling fire remained.
Lion fell limp, held up by the spear through his chest...
Mammoth lowered his head, touching his forehead to his brother’s, weeping. He had just lost the last remaining family he had. He was now the last of his race...
Mammoth had been tracking his brother, hoping to learn from the experience. It was likely that Dace did not know he existed, which gave a small advantage for now, as he was not a threat to Dace’s plans. When he finally reached the site of the final battle, Mammoth saw what remained. There was nothing left but death, and the blood that had been spilled, obviously showed Dace was dead, but Mammoth knew something was odd. There was no corpse, and the blood had not coagulated. There was no doubt something unnatural occurred here...
Mammoth leaned there crying against his dead brother for what seemed like an eternity. When he finally rose, he grabbed the massive claymore off the ground that belonged to Lion, and stuck it in the ground. No normal man could ever lift that sword, as it weighed thousands of pounds to someone not of the Wyrris bloodline. Mammoth left it there, to signify that a great man had died there that day. Putting his brother’s body on the fire, Mammoth turned and left, returning to the mountains of the north.
He knew he was hardly the warrior his late brother was, and that thought tormented him, as he knew the responsibility to protect the world from the demon was now his. However, he was not able to come to terms with the loss of his brother and that he was all that remained of a once grand race. Retreating into exile, Mammoth never made his presence known. He returned to his ruined homeland, and ventured further into the northern mountains, where the cold was so extreme none by the Wyrris could survive staying there. He considered it his punishment for his weakness. Mourning there, and training there, Mammoth did not emerge until 5 years had passed. His body had matured, as had his mind. He promised there, on that hallowed ground where his bloodline had left him, that he would not falter in the face of these odds. He knew better than to make the mistake of promising victory, for he knew the chances were slim, but he would face them as the Wyrris were destined to do.
“I will not forget... Rest in peace, Lion.”
With that, Mammoth moved south through the frozen tundra, toward the city of Findlay. The northern nations were centered in Findlay, and Mammoth could learn of what he had missed in the time he spent in exile. The sky was not black, the world was not burning, so the demon had not returned, but without a doubt, Dace was closer to his goal...
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Post by The Mammoth on Jan 5, 2010 18:16:34 GMT -5
I also tend to enjoy well-placed profanity, so that I'd struggle with. But school/work is the first thing in my way.
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Post by The Mammoth on Jan 4, 2010 12:41:57 GMT -5
Thinking about it. I don't like to join stuff that I feel I may lose interest in and leave the members of it stranded.
Plus, classes are starting back up, and taking 18 credit hours this quarter, working on top of it, will crush me....
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Post by The Mammoth on Dec 31, 2009 22:39:00 GMT -5
I suppose, but I always felt well-placed profanity could be useful to empowering the force behind something. I just found it comical that threats of murder were fine, but swear words were not.
You're fully entitled to say that is what you want, I was just commenting.
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Post by The Mammoth on Dec 28, 2009 12:37:21 GMT -5
*jabs with a stick*
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Post by The Mammoth on Dec 28, 2009 12:35:33 GMT -5
No bad language in a story about threatening violence, kidnapping and shotguns to the head?
It that not a bit contradictory?
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Post by The Mammoth on Dec 11, 2009 19:22:34 GMT -5
Well... you should stop hiding on MSN and use your friends to get help, prick! lol
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Post by The Mammoth on Dec 4, 2009 14:35:19 GMT -5
((Well... considering I decided I am bored enough to stop giving up on this place, here's a post!))
Mammoth ignored the stranger in front of him, finally standing up and aiming to leave, picking up his armor. As he stood, he turned around and noticed Pinata sitting behind him. He stopped in his tracks, a bit shocked.
"Well... If it isn't the womanizer himself..." Mammoth laughed, slapping pinata on the shoulder with his free hand. He sat down across from his friend, a smile on his face.
"How are things, brudda?"
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Post by The Mammoth on Oct 16, 2009 18:01:32 GMT -5
i HATE that...
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Post by The Mammoth on Oct 16, 2009 13:25:57 GMT -5
Pretty much, try what you will, you're welcome to. Pinata and swytch, and now k-err-reaper... are about as reliable as a dead dog when it comes to posting...
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Post by The Mammoth on Oct 5, 2009 18:54:07 GMT -5
well, you have to do stuff for that to happen
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Post by The Mammoth on Sept 21, 2009 21:45:57 GMT -5
As Richard was covering the escaping convict, he saw as a jumper made its way across the open street. Looking down the scope quickly, he fired a shot, clipping the left shoulder of the thing. Cocking the gun to load another bullet into the chamber, Richard took aim again, only to watch down his scope as the convict impaled the creature on the a pole. The thing was dying, but still scrambling with the pole in its mouth. Richard fired another shot that splattered the jumpers head. He cocked his rifle again, and loaded two bullets back into the rotating chamber. (R:94, DE(7/5))
With a big sigh, he watched as the man got himself back to his feet and continued to run up to the house. Richard walked over and kicked the ladder to his roof that was the only access point to it now. The ladder dropped to the ground with a clang as Richard barked to the man on the ground.
"Get up here!"
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