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OldPete
13-04-2005, 17:19
[Authors note: Since I am not a native speaker in english, I fear my story contains many mistakes. If someone finds and corrects them I would be very grateful]

I am a warrior, and I am tired.
Having returned from the wastelands, beaten and bloodied, I sought shelter from the glare of the sun and the biting wind, the wind that sings with the voices of ghosts and carries the stench of death.
I found refuge in the shadow of a broken column, standing in the midst of ruins close to the wall, near the small settlements where the survivors gather. Here I am at least shielded from the sun, and the camp is near enough should I require help or equipment.
But right now I only want to sit in the shadow and rest my shoulders against the worn stone. Feeling the exhaustion catching up with me, I thrust my sword into the loose ground well within arms length and loosen the straps of my shield. It feels good to relax, but I don’t want to rest to long, for else I might fall asleep, and with sleep, the dreams return.
So I struggle to stay awake, and let my eyes wander over the desolated landscape surrounding me.
The broken column I use as my shelter is part of a widespread field of ruins, ruins that not long ago had been a proud symbol of the human empire.
The city of Ascalon, the city I once called home. Until the day the Charr opened the gates to hell and made the sky vomit huge chunks of rock that tore open the ground, leveled hills and reduced the proud bastion of mankind to smoldering piles of rubble in a few seconds.
I behold the land around me, and while I recall how it had looked like not long ago, sleep sneaks up and I drift away….and dream.
Every time I fall asleep I dream of the day that changed everything.
It was a warm day at the end of spring. The sun shone down warm, a gentle breeze caressed your skin and the wind rustled through the green leaves. People were busy doing their daily business, thinking themselves safe, protected by the might of the wall and its defenders. But they were all wrong.
There was no protection from what the charr had devised, and it struck us like lightning….only much, much worse.
No arm, no armor was able to stand against this hellish bombardment, and even the mightiest spell or prayer failed.
I was away from town it happened, on patrol for the garrison, and so I had to watch helpless as my city fell and burned. I heard the short screams of panic when the sky turned black, and then everything was drowned out by the roar of the falling rocks. I could not believe my eyes, I had never believed anything like this possible, but it happened. The sky opened and from the clouds fell huge, burning chunks of rock and crystal, hurtling down towards the ground, towards the people standing there shocked. They stood like frozen, and I could not move either, for part of me thought I was a nightmare, an illusion. But it was not. When the skyrocks hit the ground, it was like a god hammering earth. The ground shook for what it seemed like an eternity, and huge clouds of smoke and dust rose from the places where the rocks had impacted. The smoke covered most of the destruction, but I had seen enough.
Were once had been green plains and little farms now was torn earth and burning ruins. The broken rocks stuck in the ground like huge spears, and foul fumes and hot vapor rose from the tortured land.
I cant imagine how many have perished during those few moments, but I saw that not everyone had died instantly.
Some rose from where the shockwave had thrown them, others could only screamed and cry, and the thunder of the comets was replaced by the sounds of suffering from all around.
Finaly I regained my senses and rushed forward, desperate to lend my aid to those out there. I tried to block out the images, tried to focus on the tasks before me, the wounded, the suffering, the dying. And there were so many. Being trained not only in the ways of the warrior but in the ways of the healer too, I was at least able to do something, some I could heal, but for many, all help came to late. My memories of these moments remain blurry, and for that I am grateful, for I know that there were some so heavily wounded that all I could do was end their suffering. I did what I had to, but when I saw the broken flute lying amidst the ruins, I broke.
It was the flute of the little girl, I recogniced it because I had bought it this very day. And there it laid, broken, shattered. No trace of the girl, but I was sure that she had died, and all I could do was to pray that she had died a quick death.It was there that my comrades found me, weeping, and they led me to the camp where all the survivors had gathered. There I could recover my strength, and it did not took me long before I was out there again.
I can’t remember how often I have been out there, out in the wilderness.
Those who ask I keep telling that I go on patrol, or scouting, or that I try to find weapons, food, water, whatever...but that is only part of the truth.
For the real reason that drives me out there is hatred, hatred against the charr, the charr and the doom they brought upon my beloved homeland. They destroyed everything I held dear, and I want to make them pay.
So out I go, trying to vent my anger on all the beasts that have invaded the wildernes, the anger that burns within me since the day the few survivors just call ends day. But no matter how many of those foul beasts that now roam the lands perish before me, it does not lessen the hatred I feel. But at least it helps me to hone my skills, and therefore I am grateful because I seek revenge...but first I need to survive.
So far, my trusted sword and my eternal faith have seen me through most of the perils the wilderness threw at me, and in the dire moments the blackness engulfed me, the few remaining shrines were always beacons for my soul, anchoring me to the world of the living.
And there have been others. The camp where I recovered during the time after the charrs ritual was at first only a small gathering of tents, hastly erected in the shelter of the ruins. But it seems to attract adventurers from all around the land. Some are like vultures, trying to find fortunes among the ruins, stealing from the dead and even attacking those who just try survive here because they have no where else to go.
But most of the travellers that come here have good souls, and they try to help as much as they can. I often try to find those who feel the urge to act, and sometimes we manage to acomplish things none of us would have been able to do alone.
But most of the time I wander alone, thrusting my instincts to lead me the right way, and so far they have not disappointed me. I just wish I had more strength, more endurance to endure longer during my expeditions. In the beginning, I hade to return to the camp very often.
Yet it was not only a lack of health or weakness of the body that drove me home, but it was the depression and desperation as well. The longer I was out there, the more I saw of the devastation, the more my anger rose and the more I feelt helpless, up to the point that I thought about giving it all up. Then I returned, with no hope left, broken in spirit. Sometimes days passed, sometimes weeks, until I again found the will to pick up my gear and start it again.
Then, something happend.
Something that helps me, that lends me hope in these hopeless times. It was during my darkest hours, when I had lost all hope and was sure that I never again would be able to venture out there, that the wind brought to me a faint sound.
It was the sound of a flute, a sound I knew quite well, and it made me bolt and grap my sword. The sound passed, and part of me was sure I had just heard what I wanted to hear. But another part, my stronger soulpart thought otherwise, and two simple words came to my mind and they made it clear for me:"She lives"
That was all the encouragement I needed, and from this day on, whenever I think about surrendering, that sound returns, and it can not be denied.
It has turned my blind lust for revenge into a mission, and it has opened my eyes for the hope that remains, for as long as we live, we can try to change things for the better.

I open my eyes again, and the sight of the barren landscape shatteres the image I head dreamed of, but this time, I do not despair. We had been fools to believe ourself supirior, and the Charr have thought us a lesson. But if they had planned to extinguish us, they have been fools too, because by giving us the chance to survive, they just made us harder to kill.
With new resolve, I gather my weapons and head back for the camp. There is much work left to be done out there, but for now I am finished. And I need not worry, the closer I get to the camp the better I can see the small groups of adventurer who leave, heading out into the wastes. As I pass the gates, I silently pray to the gods to protect those who venture out there to do good, for they carry on where I have stopped. But I no longer dare to burn myself out, for I need to go on. Thats why I now enjoy the rests at the camp, gathering new strength, repairing my stuff and learning new skills. The time will come when I will be strong enough to strike back at the charr, whenever I want, yet right now I have to wait. But I am a man of faith, I have the virtue of patience, and it will pay of as it has always done.

Tarrant Rahl
14-04-2005, 02:45
Hey there, glad to see you found the forum :). I was just about to contact you about your journal and suggest you either post it here or submit it to TDL instead.

Fallen_62
14-04-2005, 04:43
I dont have time right now, but I will read through this story (and prolly the rest of them) in the next few days and help with corrections and point out errors and stuff like that.

OldPete
14-04-2005, 09:28
Hi

Sorry for "misposting" my journal in the journals section first, it took me a while to figure out that the journals are first reviewed here before the are moved to the journal section (it is that way right? not that I get something wrong again?)
It is ok if it takes a while for you to read through it, now that I know it is in the right place I will just let things run their course.
Hope you like the story, I will check this thread now and then to see if anything has changed.
And if more storys come up to my mind, I now know where to put them :)

OldPete
10-05-2005, 16:03
ok, may I ask whats the status of my story?
I waited a rather long time, and now I see that there are other stories that made it to journal status.
What need I do to get my story there too?
Or is there nothing I can do?
On the journal page it says you get the link "You are approved" but when do you get this?
Some update would be nice, for example a sign saying "not yet read" "reviewed once" "undergoing corrections" things like that so that people know what they are up to
thanks