Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Armored Core. I am not making money from
this. The rights to Armored Core belong to From Software and Agetec
Prologue
As one legend's story ends another begins to blossom. Thus begins the trek of Nevarel the Lost Raven.
My story, which is what I call it since no one from my past can recount it. I Nevarel only wish to expel my dark thoughts and move on to brighter days so I am writing this story as therapy for my battered soul. I like the idea since I'm physically recovering from what the doctors say, "Should have been fatal injuries."
Well my left hand and wrist still work fine so I write. I will tell it truly, all that I heard all that I saw and all that I lived. So let me begin to explain to you why I'm laying in this hospital bed now reminiscing about bygone days near and far.
I was born near the first day of the spring healthy and strong. My mother had black straight hair and a light tan red skin. She was a descendent of a people of a Spanish origin. I was told that father who I have never seen had dark brown skin much like the leaves I see in old books my mother showed to me when I was young. He was not a part of my life so he became only another story that my mother would tell on cold lonely night in our underground home. Life was awfully simple then; wish I could still say that now.
My mother died soon after I was nine. Her attacker was never seen or found. She just kept touching her stomach like she had the biggest stomach ache ever. Soon after she was committed to her little bed and died from her unknown attackers touch. I look back now and think maybe it was a disease that got her. This is what I was told and some of which I remember.
After her death, I was alone and forced to tend to sounds that echoed in my own belly. I soon began to explore the underground world around me to meet my needs for food, because in the dim underground shelters of Neo Mexico abandoned buildings were plentiful but food was scarce and clothes were optional.
Don't feel sorry at all for me, I had a lot of people looking out for me and in the dim dark underground you find a lot of "nice" people almost willing to share. For instance, the fat old man from sector 513 just leaves his artificial sunlight oranges on a fruit stand. Every day when I come to his shop I take one or two then we both play tag. He would yell stop you Thief chase me about four blocks then he would run out of breath and yell more curses even louder. He helped feed me and I helped him lose weight and run faster. We played our game for a long time then one day he all most caught me. I didn't want to ruin my 1126 and 0 winning streak so I thought I would find another "nice" person who wanted to share.
I found lots of people all over the dome wanted to share with me. They didn't say it right out but I could tell because they left their windows unlocked and cooked more food then they could eat in one sitting, so I guessed it was for me. Time passed on and I grew large and could no longer fit thru windows and sneak quietly in a building so as to not disturb the sleep of my "friends". So I got a job at a metal parts junkyard where I ran errands for a man. I eat garbage I slept in a garbage can and worked at a garbage dump to all the world I was the same as garbage.
Ones story doesn't truly begin until they come to a turning point in their lives mine came sooner than most.
The day I met my friends and learned of a thing called an Armored Core. That was and will be the starting line for my story, where I stopped just surviving and began to want more! I began to want more from my existence, more than just breathing I wanted to live and have a life.
Prologue
As one legend's story ends another begins to blossom. Thus begins the trek of Nevarel the Lost Raven.
My story, which is what I call it since no one from my past can recount it. I Nevarel only wish to expel my dark thoughts and move on to brighter days so I am writing this story as therapy for my battered soul. I like the idea since I'm physically recovering from what the doctors say, "Should have been fatal injuries."
Well my left hand and wrist still work fine so I write. I will tell it truly, all that I heard all that I saw and all that I lived. So let me begin to explain to you why I'm laying in this hospital bed now reminiscing about bygone days near and far.
I was born near the first day of the spring healthy and strong. My mother had black straight hair and a light tan red skin. She was a descendent of a people of a Spanish origin. I was told that father who I have never seen had dark brown skin much like the leaves I see in old books my mother showed to me when I was young. He was not a part of my life so he became only another story that my mother would tell on cold lonely night in our underground home. Life was awfully simple then; wish I could still say that now.
My mother died soon after I was nine. Her attacker was never seen or found. She just kept touching her stomach like she had the biggest stomach ache ever. Soon after she was committed to her little bed and died from her unknown attackers touch. I look back now and think maybe it was a disease that got her. This is what I was told and some of which I remember.
After her death, I was alone and forced to tend to sounds that echoed in my own belly. I soon began to explore the underground world around me to meet my needs for food, because in the dim underground shelters of Neo Mexico abandoned buildings were plentiful but food was scarce and clothes were optional.
Don't feel sorry at all for me, I had a lot of people looking out for me and in the dim dark underground you find a lot of "nice" people almost willing to share. For instance, the fat old man from sector 513 just leaves his artificial sunlight oranges on a fruit stand. Every day when I come to his shop I take one or two then we both play tag. He would yell stop you Thief chase me about four blocks then he would run out of breath and yell more curses even louder. He helped feed me and I helped him lose weight and run faster. We played our game for a long time then one day he all most caught me. I didn't want to ruin my 1126 and 0 winning streak so I thought I would find another "nice" person who wanted to share.
I found lots of people all over the dome wanted to share with me. They didn't say it right out but I could tell because they left their windows unlocked and cooked more food then they could eat in one sitting, so I guessed it was for me. Time passed on and I grew large and could no longer fit thru windows and sneak quietly in a building so as to not disturb the sleep of my "friends". So I got a job at a metal parts junkyard where I ran errands for a man. I eat garbage I slept in a garbage can and worked at a garbage dump to all the world I was the same as garbage.
Ones story doesn't truly begin until they come to a turning point in their lives mine came sooner than most.
The day I met my friends and learned of a thing called an Armored Core. That was and will be the starting line for my story, where I stopped just surviving and began to want more! I began to want more from my existence, more than just breathing I wanted to live and have a life.