The Shardscape - Revision history

Malkuthe at 02:16, 29 March 2016

2016-03-29T02:16:31Z

Malkuthe at 02:05, 29 March 2016

2016-03-29T02:05:49Z

Malkuthe at 02:23, 14 December 2015

2015-12-14T02:23:32Z

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2015-06-20T13:59:28Z

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Malkuthe at 13:59, 20 June 2015

2015-06-20T13:59:06Z

Malkuthe at 13:58, 20 June 2015

2015-06-20T13:58:43Z

Malkuthe at 02:45, 20 June 2015

2015-06-20T02:45:28Z

Malkuthe at 17:13, 17 June 2015

2015-06-17T17:13:02Z

Malkuthe at 03:59, 17 June 2015

2015-06-17T03:59:21Z

Malkuthe at 03:56, 17 June 2015

2015-06-17T03:56:25Z

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 The wind howled grievous through the silent carnage that lay before it. Its lonely lament was joined in chorus only by the snapping of torn and shredded pennant flags caught in its vicious and relentless grip. In the distance, plumes of smoke rose from the razed city. Dark wisps covered the sky in a veil of mourning as dust billowed across the fallow earth, clouds of it spilling haphazardly over the bodies of men and women that lay piled high upon the dirt.
-The fields had only hours ago been green and lush. Only moments ago, they had been filled with the sounds of clashing swords and men. They were now barren. Naked. Cracked as though they had toiled for years under harsh sun with only rare and brief rains to water them.
+The fields had only hours ago been green and lush; Moments ago, they had been filled with the sounds of clashing swords and men. Now, the land was barren. Naked. Cracked as though it had toiled for years under harsh sun with only rare and brief rains to water it. None of the invaders had bothered sowing the fields with salt. There would be life there again, come the day that it dared return—it would not be the same as what it had been before. the grasses would grow again, but their blades would forever be stained crimson, by the slaughter that had met the now-dead, so that none would ever forget the misfortune of [[Conquest Era/IldCarr|IldCarr]], and the arrogance that had caused it.
-The soil itself had not been sowed with salt. There would be life there again, come the day that it dared return. It would not be the same life as had been there before. The earth had been watered with the blood of many thousands. The grasses would grow again, but their blades would forever be stained crimson by the slaughter that had met the now-dead so that none would ever forget their misfortune—and the arrogance that had caused it.
+The Golden spires that had once risen high above the city in the distance, that had glittered in the radiance of the dawn, were strewn broken across the paved streets—their history ignored and their grandeur shattered. The great marble ramparts that had gleamed with the colours of sunset at the previous eve's beckon, which had glimmered a bitter white in defiance at the army that had appeared the next dawn, had been reduced entirely to smouldering rubble. The stones were no less beautiful, but there was little beauty to be found in the smattering of pebbles scattered over the fire-baked earth.
 A bastion of the glory of the [[Dominion Era Era/Gul'Eri|Races of Man]], raised from the bare earth with hundreds of years of toil, IldCarr had remained defiant until its last moment. In the end, it had been taken, stamped down, and reduced to little more than an ashen ruin in but the passing of a few hours.

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 = Introductory Text =
-The wind howled grievous through the silent carnage that lay before it. Its lonely lament was joined in chorus only by the snapping of torn and shredded pennant flags caught in its vicious and relentless grip. In the distance, plumes of smoke rose from the razed city. Dark wisps covered the sky in a veil of mourning as dust billowed across the fallow earth, clouds of it spilling haphazardly over the bodies of men and women that lay piled high upon the earth.
+The wind howled grievous through the silent carnage that lay before it. Its lonely lament was joined in chorus only by the snapping of torn and shredded pennant flags caught in its vicious and relentless grip. In the distance, plumes of smoke rose from the razed city. Dark wisps covered the sky in a veil of mourning as dust billowed across the fallow earth, clouds of it spilling haphazardly over the bodies of men and women that lay piled high upon the dirt.
 The fields had only hours ago been green and lush. Only moments ago, they had been filled with the sounds of clashing swords and men. They were now barren. Naked. Cracked as though they had toiled for years under harsh sun with only rare and brief rains to water them.

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 = Featured Article =
 = Navigation =
-<headertabs />
+<headertabs/>

← Older revision		Revision as of 13:59, 20 June 2015
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	With a sigh, the soldier let loose what he thought was his final breath.		With a sigh, the soldier let loose what he thought was his final breath.
		+
		+	= Featured Article =
		+	= Navigation =
	<headertabs />		<headertabs />

← Older revision		Revision as of 13:58, 20 June 2015
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	With a sigh, the soldier let loose what he thought was his final breath.		With a sigh, the soldier let loose what he thought was his final breath.
		+	<headertabs />

← Older revision		Revision as of 02:45, 20 June 2015
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	[[File:Promo.png\|center\|frame\|Corruption has been taken to the heart of the Crucible]]		[[File:Promo.png\|center\|frame\|Corruption has been taken to the heart of the Crucible]]

		+	= Introductory Text =
	The wind howled grievous through the silence of carnage, its lonely lament joined only by the snapping of torn and shredded pennant flags in its vicious, relentless grip. Plumes of smoke spilled from the city, their dark wisps covering the sky in a veil of mourning. Clouds of dust billowed across the ground, spilling haphazardly over the bodies of men that lay piled high upon the earth.		The wind howled grievous through the silence of carnage, its lonely lament joined only by the snapping of torn and shredded pennant flags in its vicious, relentless grip. Plumes of smoke spilled from the city, their dark wisps covering the sky in a veil of mourning. Clouds of dust billowed across the ground, spilling haphazardly over the bodies of men that lay piled high upon the earth.

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 The city had raised what meagre defenses it could, but like a candle flame to a tempest, it was little more than a distraction to the onslaught that followed. They had charged across the battlefield at the line of disorganized men as the forest itself stirred and appeared to spit rocks, bringing down in moments walls that had survived a thousand sieges past.
-They had come crashing down upon the lines of men, no longer silent like they had been, rising from the mist. They had screamed and screamed well, striking fear into the heart of many a man. The spear or the lance had come mere moments later. The defenders' lines had broken. They had run in the only direction they could: the city. And though the battle had been lost, the shadows descended upon them, all darkness, and wingbeats, and fire's fury.
+They had come crashing down upon the lines of men, no longer silent like they had been, rising from the mist. They had screamed and screamed well, striking fear into the heart of many a man. The spear or the lance had come mere moments later. The defenders' lines had broken. They had run in the only direction they could: the city. And though the battle had been lost, the shadows had descended upon them, all darkness, and wingbeats, and fire's fury.
-The shadows left only a city of seared flesh, blackened bone, and the harrowing moans of the dying.
+The shadows had left only a city of seared flesh, blackened bone, and the harrowing moans of the dying.
-It had been six hours since the grand city of IldCarr had fallen to invaders, and still, the [[deathrider|deathriders]] yet scoured the battlefield. They hunted for any and all signs of life. Any survivors, young or old, man or woman, or child. They snuffed out whatever they found with little regard.
+Long after the battle was over, and the harrowing moans of the many burned alive in the city, the pale riders of death yet scoured the battlefield. They hunted mercilessly for any and all signs of life. No survivors, man, woman, or child, were allowed to live. Whatever flame of hope remained was extinguished.
-Carrion birds circled high overhead. Even the clouds of war were afraid to descend upon the carnage down below. They did not want to face the ire of the strange warriors from the strange lands.
+Carrion birds circled high overhead, the black clouds of war sacred to the stoic and pale deity that the riders followed. Though a feast lay before them, neither raven, nor crow, nor vulture, wished to descend. They feared the ire of the strange warriors, with blades that glittered like starlight, from lands unknown.
-The slow clop of hooves of a passing deathrider faded into the distance behind a heavily wounded soldier. He had spent the last agonizing half hour lying as still as he could, breathing only shallowly, and even then, only when absolutely necessary. Thankfully, his ruse had so far been successful. He had deceived the deathrider into thinking he was already dead.
+The slow clop of passing hooves faded into the distance behind a soldier wounded mortally. He had spent the last agonizing half-hour lying as still as he could, breathing only shallowly the fetid aroma of death and decay. Even that he did only when necessary. He praised his gods that so far, his ruse had been successful. He'd deceived the rider into thinking he was already dead.
-Knowing that he would soon die either way, the soldier threw all caution to the wind and crawled toward the outstretched arm and dead eyes of his brother. Between them was a pool of fresh blood. Its surface was calm despite the incessant howling of the wind. Before he could grip the arm of his long-gone brother, he heard a high-pitched neigh behind him.
+Aware that the lifeblood pulsing in his veins would soon cease, the soldier threw all caution to the wind. He crawled toward the outstretched arm and dead eyes of his brother. Between them lay a pool of fresh blood, its surface calm despite the incessant, mournful howling of the wind. Before he could reach out to grip the arm of his long-gone brother, the soldier heard a high-pitched whinny from behind him.
-Within the man, a dull rage sparked and something inexplicable snapped. As he heard the horse whinny and rear up on its hind legs; as he heard the [[Tretallë (Empire)#Elledtrillë|unearthly steel]] of the deathrider's blade scrape against its scabbard, and the whine that followed the weapon on its downstroke, the world dissolved into darkness.
+The soldier raised his head and looked upon the rider that was charging his way. He heard the horse nicker, and saw it rear up on its hind legs. He heard the screech of the rider's blade as it scraped against its scabbard, and saw the glittering of the weapon as it was raised. Pale rider and pale steed charged.
-Below the soldier, the pool of blood turned silver and it expanded as it spun into a massive mirror spanning as far as the eye could see.
+Within the soldier a dull rage sparked. Something inexplicable ''snapped.'' The soldier dipped his fingers into the pool of blood and watched as it turned silver. Before the rider could bring his star-like blade down on the soldier's neck, the pool of blood spun into a massive mirror underneath the soldier. It spanned as far as the eye could see.
-The mirror before the soldier showed him on the ground, with the deathrider towering behind him, ready to end his pitiful existence. As he watched, the reflection save for himself blew away like ashes in the wind. On the tail of the disintegrating world, a fantastical landscape of towering facades and bright lights and strange metal carriages that moved without horses followed.
+The soldier looked into the mirror and saw that the rider's wicked blade was but hairsbreadths from his neck. He looked in the direction that it should have been and saw nothing but the yawning void. He looked back down and saw himself, the rider looming behind him, ready to end his pitiful existence.
-The image solidified and the soldier felt himself fall through the mirror. For the briefest of moments, he saw a [[Crucible of Mirrors|stranger world]], one vast and covered with mist, containing mirrors arrayed in arcs around ''something''. When he blinked, that strange other world vanished, and he saw only a road paved with black stone.
+As the soldier watched, the reflection, save for himself blew away like ashes in the wind, and on the tail of the world that dissolved came another&mdash;a fantastical landscape of towering, gleaming facades, garishly bright lights, and strange metal carriages that moved without horses.
-The soldier let go of consciousness, and the world turned black.
+The image seemed to become solid. The mirror underneath the soldier became less so. He fell through, and for the briefest of moments, as he plunged through the darkness and through clouds of thick white mist, he saw yet another [[Crucible of Mirrors|strange world]], this one vastly more incomprehensible than the last.

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 A bastion of the glory of the Races of Man, raised from the bare earth with hundreds of years of toil, had been taken, stamped down, and reduced to little more than an ashen ruin in but the passing of hours.
-They had come rising from the mist like spectres of death itself, pale like the dawn, and silent like the night but for the eerie drumbeat that seemed to come from all around. [[Tretall&euml; (Government)#The_Pale_Imperator|Death]] rode before them with his Crown of Ivory, his Blade of Starlight, and his Eyes of Fire. Behind him came his riders&mdash;the many thousands of them that had sent even the bravest men fleeing from their posts.
+They had come rising from the mist like spectres of death itself, pale like the dawn, and silent like the night but for the eerie drumbeat that seemed to come from all around. [[Tretall&euml; (Government)#The_Pale_Imperator|Death]] had ridden before them with his Crown of Ivory, his Blade of Starlight, and his Eyes of Fire. Behind him had come his riders&mdash;the many thousands of them that had sent even the bravest men fleeing from their posts.
 The city had raised what meagre defenses it could, but like a candle flame to a tempest, it was little more than a distraction to the onslaught that followed. They had charged across the battlefield at the line of disorganized men as the forest itself stirred and appeared to spit rocks, bringing down in moments walls that had survived a thousand sieges past.

@@ Line 1: / Line 1: @@
 [[File:Promo.png|center|frame|Corruption has been taken to the heart of the Crucible]]
-The wind howled. Its lonely lament was joined, for the longest time, only by the snapping of pennant flags in its relentless grip. Plumes of smoke covered the sky, and clouds of dust billowed across the ground and the carnage that lay bare over it. The fields had only hours ago been green and lush. Only moments ago, it had been filled with the sound of clashing swords and men.
+The wind howled grievous through the silence of carnage, its lonely lament joined only by the snapping of torn and shredded pennant flags in its vicious, relentless grip. Plumes of smoke spilled from the city, their dark wisps covering the sky in a veil of mourning. Clouds of dust billowed across the ground, spilling haphazardly over the bodies of men that lay piled high upon the earth.
-Now it was different. The ground itself was stained red with the blood of thousands, if not tens of thousands. They were dead. They were slain in a vain last-ditched effort to protect the city from its wroth invaders.
+Fields that only hours ago had been green and lush, only moments ago filled with the sounds of clashing swords and men, were now barren. Naked. The soil itself was not sowed with salt so that none would ever grow there again&mdash;it was watered with the blood of many thousands so that the grasses might grow again, only stained crimson by the slaughter that had met the now-dead, so that none would ever forget.
-The once-pristine golden spires that had glittered in the morning sun were strewn across the pavements, shattered. The marble ramparts, that had gleamed white while the sun was high above, and had glimmered with the colours of sunset at evening's beckon, had been reduced to smouldering rubble. The city of [[IldCarr]] had been taken.
+The once-pristine golden spires that had glittered in the morning sun were strewn across the pavements, their history ignored, their grandeur shattered upon the streets. The great marble ramparts that had gleamed with the colours of sunset at the previous evening's beckon, and had glimmered bitter white in defiance at the army that appeared come dawn, had been reduced to smouldering rubble.
-The intruders were from the [[Termaltt&euml;|unknown lands]] that lay in the east. Little was known about them, much like the lands that they hailed from. All that the races of men knew of them was that they were [[Tretallë (Culture)|riders of pale skin]], that they were cruel beyond belief, and that they were merciless on the battlefield.
+A bastion of the glory of the Races of Man, raised from the bare earth with hundreds of years of toil, had been taken, stamped down, and reduced to little more than an ashen ruin in but the passing of hours.
 It had been six hours since the grand city of IldCarr had fallen to invaders, and still, the [[deathrider|deathriders]] yet scoured the battlefield. They hunted for any and all signs of life. Any survivors, young or old, man or woman, or child. They snuffed out whatever they found with little regard.
@@ Line 26: / Line 34: @@
 The soldier let go of consciousness, and the world turned black.