When the world was still young and yawned at every dawn's waking, Granas, the God of Light, came. All was bathed in the holy light of Heaven. Thus, those were the days of marvels.
Yet, there were those who sought the power to resist Granas, they found power in Valmar, the God of Darkness. Power to release the energy bound up in life. Power to unmake the world.
Thus, in those days, they made war.
The fighting continued endlessly, until the Sword of Granas pierced the infinite darkness of Valmar. The mighty blow from Granas not only smashed Valmar to pieces, but also carved several ugly scars in the very surface of the planet.
These are the Granacliffs that survive even to the present, scars in the land.
This is the reason we call this earth the "Cursed Land"
------------------------------
Back in those days, before the times of the gods, and the battles of goods and evils, the world was hopeless. Nations fought nations, and every man craved one thing. Lives upon lives were lost for this desire. It was power.
Supremacy was all they thought of, and it blinded them. This story is the tale of the ultimate power. The rise of knowledge, its consequences, and the downfall of the entire human race.
------------------------------
'Ships approaching. They are identified as hostile. Formation initiated. Weapons charging. It is recommended to organize into battle stations." droned the computer defense system.
Whenever the computer defense system came over the loud speaker, danger was nearby. Not that anyone on the ship would care. The pilots, the crew, the janitorial department, were all automatons. Even the only human onboard, Feosol (or so he is known as today, his real name long forgotten), didn't panic. He was a warrior. The warrior. He had lived through many battles, and would likely see the end of this one.
Feosol was famous in any empire of the world. Everyone knew his name. He was rumored to have killed over a thousand men with his saber, and didn't think a second of adding another soul as it's victim. Ruthless on the battlefield, cunning during pinches, and genius everywhere else, he was wicked beyond any other man.
No one could trust him, and he could trust no one. It was for this reason his mighty ship was completely automaton, much easier to control as he would have said.
Seeing him was quite a peculiar site, as his long past had taken a toll on his body. Old scars rested all over his body, records of his many battles. He was missing part of an ear and a whole nostril. Feosol's elbow was made of an old metal, the same that his sword was. Flexing his right arm caused a rickety metallic sound to fill the air. He walked duck footed, and his shoulders rounded off. The warrior looked nothing like the handsome, muscular, and valiant kind we know of today. Feosol's dark green cape hung over his shoulders, hiding the lack of broadness he had there. Standing at over six and a half feet tall, with a bony frame, you would have never suspected him of being the most wanted man in the world.
Wanted because of his cargo, a highly advanced computer device that transfigures a mind's essence into a spiritual entity based on their heart. He had stolen it from a laboratory in the Ubi quadrant, and made off with it.
"Six days for them to catch up with me?" Feosol muttered, "I expected more of the Ubi. No matter, I will prevail." He readjusted his chair on the bridge of his airship, and nonchalantly pressed two buttons. Seconds later, two photon cannons lowered from the underbelly of the ship and aimed at the five approaching fighter aircrafts. It let out three bursts of orange energy, going straight through two of the ships. Seconds later, the ships that were hit exploded in a magnificent burst of color and energy.
Feosol gazed down at the battle monitor, watching two enemy units vanish off the screen. "Three to go." He snickered.
The three remaining ships circled Feosol's craft, and fired simultaneously. He grabbed hold of the control stick and dodged swiftly to the left, grazed by one shot and untouched by two others. He pulled back on the control and flipped over, and ended up behind all three enemies. Then, he pushed the same buttons as before, and the same orange energy fired. Four blasts pelted one ship, and sent it smashing into the rocks of a close mountain range.
Both enemy ships now sped up and around, and continuously firing their own shots at the Enchanted (what Feosol called his airship). Blast after blast was avoided, and another button push shot out a gigantic red ball of energy that totally disintegrated the second to last ship. Faced with no other option, the remaining ship zoomed straight towards the Enchanted. "Fool." Grumbled Feosol. He tilted the nose of the ship dead on with the oncoming enemy. The two smashed into each other, sending bits of metal to the ground, and causing an explosion of fire in the air. As the fire died down, smoke was left. Out of this smoke came the Enchanted, unscathed by the collision.
"Weaklings shouldn't try and fight those they know who'll they lose against" said the victor.
------------------------------
It was not long after, that he set the ship down outside of a small town with an underground laboratory. Feosol walked to the entrance of the building (the building, from what he could see, must be completely underground except for the entrance) and stood at the doorway. He noted how small the door was, barely a foot or two across. This worried him, how was anyone expected to get in and out?
"Password?" asked a voice behind the locked door.
"I don't remember a password, let me in or you don't get your damn package." Grumbled Feosol as he shifted his weight. This delivery would pay handsomely he thought silently. Well worth the effort.
"Would you happen to be Feosol Diagon? The famous?" the voice asked anxiously.
Feosol sighed heavily. He was an outlaw to most, but a hero to some. All people didn't matter to him, as long as he got his money (and maybe draw a little blood in the process). "Yes, it is me. Now, come out and get your baggage or I leave with it. I'm sure it will fetch quite a bundle in the black market."
"Oh no, don't do a thing like that! One moment please!" The sound of clanks of locks opening and buttons being pushed was soon heard. What had appeared to be a miniscule door, turned out to be a very large storage hangar. The threshold in must have been atleast 10 feet wide.
"Come, come now. In you go." An old man, probably in his late fifties stood right where the voice had been. He was balding, but had white, long, wispy hairs billowing around him. His eyes were gleeful and smile warm. Feosol didn't like him already. He was too cheery.
"I'd rather make this short and sweet. I hand over the delivery, you give me my gold. Fair deal." Feosol was looking rather uneasy. He didn't like the odd equipment behind the man that was obviously being used for experiments, as any person would notice the beakers and animal fetuses.
"Atleast let me introduce myself! I'm Sanarg! Pleased to meet you in person, Feosol Diagon."
Behind Sanarg a shadow moved, and a feminine voice spoke up. "Leave him alone. You need not act this way to everyone, Sanarg."
"Don't tell me what to do! I am just as capable of a scientist as you are, Ramlav. Be kind to visitors and any other guests, I say.", he replied calmly.
"Quarrel with one another AFTER I'm gone.", spoke up Feosol. He motioned to his airship, and walked off to it, his arm at his side creaking slightly.
Glancing back, Feosol got his first glance at the woman named Ramlav. She was considerably short, and had long flowing black hair behind her. Her features were dark, and the black pupils she had sent a slight chill up his spine. Now, knowing Feosol's past, this was some feat, nothing frightened him.
The three of them reached the airship, and Feosol touched a panel. It opened up and he entered a series of numbers into a panel. The side of the Enchanted opened up slowly and a machine, the size of a small room hovered around three inches off the floor inside.
"There you go, unharmed. And I had a scuffle with five Ubi rogue pilots. I think that deserves one thousand more gold.", said Feosol.
"No deals. The payment was decided on before.", growled Ramlav.
"We must be kind to our deliver! Of course we'll pay the extra amount, you deserved it for a job well done.", Sanarg added solemly. He reached into his robe pocket, fumbled around, and pulled out ten golden pieces. They were each worth one hundred. Sanarg handed them to Feosol with a slight smile.
"How do you plan on moving it to your facility? It is too large to lift, carry, or pull.", added Feosol questionably.
"Simple.... simple...." Sanarg raised his hand, and slid it in midair in the direction of the laboratory. Amazingly, the machine lurched forward and quietly stopped just inside the bay doors.
Even the great warrior had never seen such a deed done. "You did that as if by magic!", he exclamined.
"It WAS magic. Simple process infusion of the old sorcery skills and the Birth Eggs to make it possible for all to use magic.", said Ramlav matter-of-factly. "We must be going now ourselves.", she added. With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the structure.
"It is so hard to get any work done with her.... Our goals are so different.... Oh well, I mustn't complain. She is still my work partner, and a good one at that. Here is your money, good sir." Taking from an inner pocket, Sanarg withdrew a medium sized pocket book, with roughly twenty thousand gold in currency.
The two said their farewells (Feosol's was a bit more cold then Sanarg's, but had little effect on dampening either of their moods.) and were off. Sanarg shut the door, and locked the locks. Feosol stepped into the Enchanted and a short time later, took off, over the mountain ranges.
I never did find out specifically what that thing did, he thought as the mountains faded away behind him.
------------------------------
Yet, there were those who sought the power to resist Granas, they found power in Valmar, the God of Darkness. Power to release the energy bound up in life. Power to unmake the world.
Thus, in those days, they made war.
The fighting continued endlessly, until the Sword of Granas pierced the infinite darkness of Valmar. The mighty blow from Granas not only smashed Valmar to pieces, but also carved several ugly scars in the very surface of the planet.
These are the Granacliffs that survive even to the present, scars in the land.
This is the reason we call this earth the "Cursed Land"
------------------------------
Back in those days, before the times of the gods, and the battles of goods and evils, the world was hopeless. Nations fought nations, and every man craved one thing. Lives upon lives were lost for this desire. It was power.
Supremacy was all they thought of, and it blinded them. This story is the tale of the ultimate power. The rise of knowledge, its consequences, and the downfall of the entire human race.
------------------------------
'Ships approaching. They are identified as hostile. Formation initiated. Weapons charging. It is recommended to organize into battle stations." droned the computer defense system.
Whenever the computer defense system came over the loud speaker, danger was nearby. Not that anyone on the ship would care. The pilots, the crew, the janitorial department, were all automatons. Even the only human onboard, Feosol (or so he is known as today, his real name long forgotten), didn't panic. He was a warrior. The warrior. He had lived through many battles, and would likely see the end of this one.
Feosol was famous in any empire of the world. Everyone knew his name. He was rumored to have killed over a thousand men with his saber, and didn't think a second of adding another soul as it's victim. Ruthless on the battlefield, cunning during pinches, and genius everywhere else, he was wicked beyond any other man.
No one could trust him, and he could trust no one. It was for this reason his mighty ship was completely automaton, much easier to control as he would have said.
Seeing him was quite a peculiar site, as his long past had taken a toll on his body. Old scars rested all over his body, records of his many battles. He was missing part of an ear and a whole nostril. Feosol's elbow was made of an old metal, the same that his sword was. Flexing his right arm caused a rickety metallic sound to fill the air. He walked duck footed, and his shoulders rounded off. The warrior looked nothing like the handsome, muscular, and valiant kind we know of today. Feosol's dark green cape hung over his shoulders, hiding the lack of broadness he had there. Standing at over six and a half feet tall, with a bony frame, you would have never suspected him of being the most wanted man in the world.
Wanted because of his cargo, a highly advanced computer device that transfigures a mind's essence into a spiritual entity based on their heart. He had stolen it from a laboratory in the Ubi quadrant, and made off with it.
"Six days for them to catch up with me?" Feosol muttered, "I expected more of the Ubi. No matter, I will prevail." He readjusted his chair on the bridge of his airship, and nonchalantly pressed two buttons. Seconds later, two photon cannons lowered from the underbelly of the ship and aimed at the five approaching fighter aircrafts. It let out three bursts of orange energy, going straight through two of the ships. Seconds later, the ships that were hit exploded in a magnificent burst of color and energy.
Feosol gazed down at the battle monitor, watching two enemy units vanish off the screen. "Three to go." He snickered.
The three remaining ships circled Feosol's craft, and fired simultaneously. He grabbed hold of the control stick and dodged swiftly to the left, grazed by one shot and untouched by two others. He pulled back on the control and flipped over, and ended up behind all three enemies. Then, he pushed the same buttons as before, and the same orange energy fired. Four blasts pelted one ship, and sent it smashing into the rocks of a close mountain range.
Both enemy ships now sped up and around, and continuously firing their own shots at the Enchanted (what Feosol called his airship). Blast after blast was avoided, and another button push shot out a gigantic red ball of energy that totally disintegrated the second to last ship. Faced with no other option, the remaining ship zoomed straight towards the Enchanted. "Fool." Grumbled Feosol. He tilted the nose of the ship dead on with the oncoming enemy. The two smashed into each other, sending bits of metal to the ground, and causing an explosion of fire in the air. As the fire died down, smoke was left. Out of this smoke came the Enchanted, unscathed by the collision.
"Weaklings shouldn't try and fight those they know who'll they lose against" said the victor.
------------------------------
It was not long after, that he set the ship down outside of a small town with an underground laboratory. Feosol walked to the entrance of the building (the building, from what he could see, must be completely underground except for the entrance) and stood at the doorway. He noted how small the door was, barely a foot or two across. This worried him, how was anyone expected to get in and out?
"Password?" asked a voice behind the locked door.
"I don't remember a password, let me in or you don't get your damn package." Grumbled Feosol as he shifted his weight. This delivery would pay handsomely he thought silently. Well worth the effort.
"Would you happen to be Feosol Diagon? The famous?" the voice asked anxiously.
Feosol sighed heavily. He was an outlaw to most, but a hero to some. All people didn't matter to him, as long as he got his money (and maybe draw a little blood in the process). "Yes, it is me. Now, come out and get your baggage or I leave with it. I'm sure it will fetch quite a bundle in the black market."
"Oh no, don't do a thing like that! One moment please!" The sound of clanks of locks opening and buttons being pushed was soon heard. What had appeared to be a miniscule door, turned out to be a very large storage hangar. The threshold in must have been atleast 10 feet wide.
"Come, come now. In you go." An old man, probably in his late fifties stood right where the voice had been. He was balding, but had white, long, wispy hairs billowing around him. His eyes were gleeful and smile warm. Feosol didn't like him already. He was too cheery.
"I'd rather make this short and sweet. I hand over the delivery, you give me my gold. Fair deal." Feosol was looking rather uneasy. He didn't like the odd equipment behind the man that was obviously being used for experiments, as any person would notice the beakers and animal fetuses.
"Atleast let me introduce myself! I'm Sanarg! Pleased to meet you in person, Feosol Diagon."
Behind Sanarg a shadow moved, and a feminine voice spoke up. "Leave him alone. You need not act this way to everyone, Sanarg."
"Don't tell me what to do! I am just as capable of a scientist as you are, Ramlav. Be kind to visitors and any other guests, I say.", he replied calmly.
"Quarrel with one another AFTER I'm gone.", spoke up Feosol. He motioned to his airship, and walked off to it, his arm at his side creaking slightly.
Glancing back, Feosol got his first glance at the woman named Ramlav. She was considerably short, and had long flowing black hair behind her. Her features were dark, and the black pupils she had sent a slight chill up his spine. Now, knowing Feosol's past, this was some feat, nothing frightened him.
The three of them reached the airship, and Feosol touched a panel. It opened up and he entered a series of numbers into a panel. The side of the Enchanted opened up slowly and a machine, the size of a small room hovered around three inches off the floor inside.
"There you go, unharmed. And I had a scuffle with five Ubi rogue pilots. I think that deserves one thousand more gold.", said Feosol.
"No deals. The payment was decided on before.", growled Ramlav.
"We must be kind to our deliver! Of course we'll pay the extra amount, you deserved it for a job well done.", Sanarg added solemly. He reached into his robe pocket, fumbled around, and pulled out ten golden pieces. They were each worth one hundred. Sanarg handed them to Feosol with a slight smile.
"How do you plan on moving it to your facility? It is too large to lift, carry, or pull.", added Feosol questionably.
"Simple.... simple...." Sanarg raised his hand, and slid it in midair in the direction of the laboratory. Amazingly, the machine lurched forward and quietly stopped just inside the bay doors.
Even the great warrior had never seen such a deed done. "You did that as if by magic!", he exclamined.
"It WAS magic. Simple process infusion of the old sorcery skills and the Birth Eggs to make it possible for all to use magic.", said Ramlav matter-of-factly. "We must be going now ourselves.", she added. With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the structure.
"It is so hard to get any work done with her.... Our goals are so different.... Oh well, I mustn't complain. She is still my work partner, and a good one at that. Here is your money, good sir." Taking from an inner pocket, Sanarg withdrew a medium sized pocket book, with roughly twenty thousand gold in currency.
The two said their farewells (Feosol's was a bit more cold then Sanarg's, but had little effect on dampening either of their moods.) and were off. Sanarg shut the door, and locked the locks. Feosol stepped into the Enchanted and a short time later, took off, over the mountain ranges.
I never did find out specifically what that thing did, he thought as the mountains faded away behind him.
------------------------------