Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

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Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Ryzin Moone » Tue Apr 08, 2008 3:53 pm

He knelt on the cold ground and closed his eyes. His raspy voice echoing throughout the night as he bowed his head and prayed.

Blessed be my one true God.
Protect me father in these troubled times.
Grant me the wisdom of the ancients;
the freedom of the gypsies;

Guide my hand as it slices through flesh and bone.
Forgive my sins.
Grant no mercy to the heathens that stand before us.

Blessed be as I do your will.


He could hear the wind as if they were words, spoken to him in a long lost language known only to a few.

It is our time.

He smiled.

The others have gathered and await you. Go my son, with my blessing.

The moon shown bright in the sky. Long have the battles waged while we sat silently by, allowing these peasants to wage a holy war and destroy our lands. Like children bickering over a shiny trinket these so called heathens have raped and pillaged, all in the honour of the false gods. War was brought to our doorsteps, and reluctant as we are we will face it with the ferocity of the mightiest demon from the dark dank depths of hell. The fools do not know what they have awoken, but the price they shall soon pay.

Ryzin Moone opened his eyes. His bones offering a slight crack as he stood to his full height. He slid the robes back around his frame as he reached for his staff. He is the Shepard, the Chosen; the Voice of the moon God. His people have awoken, he can hear their prayers. The dark days of the Moon have begun. He smiles again as he steps into his hovel. Soon his brethren will gather.
"The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in times of great moral crisis, maintain their neutrality."
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Johann Moone » Tue Apr 08, 2008 8:59 pm

The hooded man knelt before a small rock being used as an altar. His hands were folded while he prayed and waited. The only sound heard, was the faint whisper of the wind. The moon was full and the new lunar cycle complete.

The time had come for the heathen fools' blood to spill. Their blood would cleanse the land of the evil stench that have ravaged them for so long. The followers of the moon god would no longer keep silent. It was their time to rise and take action. Woe to these fools who waged war where war didn't belong. They had walked into the lion's den and awoke him from his sleep. Now they'll feel the power of the angry beast.

The calling has begun. He rises slowly and looks up at the moon with one last glance. Time for the gathering.
My God put me on this earth to accomplish a certain number of things.
Right now I am so far behind that I will never die.
~Cult of the Moon~
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Melos » Tue Apr 08, 2008 10:38 pm

From a sound sleep four words awoke Melos.

It is out time.

Melos pulls his hood over his head and kneels at his alter and prays.

My one true god.
I have received your call.
Tonight begins our quest to vangish these land of these false followers.
No more will we allow these pawns to wage the war on our land.
since these peasants can not end this themselves we shall do it for them.



Melos arose with a fire lit in his heart and the time to serve the one true god has came.

I am ready my lord my life and sword is yours.
<---- YUP THATS YOUR KINGDOM
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Milo Moone » Wed Apr 09, 2008 3:19 am

From his vantage point above the warehouse, crouched behind a wide chimney on a roof nearby, Milo watched the nighttime sky slowly empty itself of clouds to reveal his lord's steady gaze. The omens for the night's exercise were improving. The steady rain which had swept through the small port had finally moved further inland, leaving his path across the tiled rooves clean and relatively dry. Recent skirmishes in the borderlands had drawn much of the town's militia away to bolster the country's defences, and in turn the abandoned buildings which lined the harbour now bristled with thugs and thieves who went about their work with relative impunity. The town was ripe for the taking, and tonight he would do just that.

He tugged at the bindings which held the cloth padding tight against his boots, and then carefully crawled to the edge of the building, keeping himself low against the roof just in case any of the remaining militia patrols happened to be in the wrong place at the worst possible time; no whistles pierced the early morning air in response, so with a quick grateful glance upwards he climbed down to the streets below. The wall of the building was almost too easy to navigate, its wooden panels too stout to creak or give way, and just warped enough to provide convinient climbing holds. He quickly made his way to the cobbled street and checked around. The narrow streets which ran between the dark buildings were still empty, lit by narrow paths of moonlight.

His objective lay just around the corner, and it took scant seconds to saunter out into the moonlight and make his way to its huge doors, once used to allow egress for carts bearing goods from the harbour. These days the goods which passed through the doors were smaller, and generally jingled in their stolen purses. He knocked quietly on one portion of the door, his knuckles finding a pattern of depressions in the wood as he knocked five times, no doubt partially worn by the cooling hands of the man he'd questioned earlier that evening. The door opened a crack, and Milo quickly leant his shoulder to the door and gave a solid push, knocking the doorman back and allowing him to open the door fully and let Numi's light flow within.

His gaze quickly took in the dozen or so brutish looking men who sat, stood or lay around the interior of the cavernous building, before settling on a much smaller man who got to his feet and gestured to the others to do the same. The doorman, clutching his ribs, stayed on the floor where Milo's now-drawn dagger couldn't quite reach.

"Who the hell d'you think you are?" The leader of the harbour gang spoke dismissively, taking confidence from the men who stood behind him, each of which dwarfed Milo's slim frame.

Milo smiled, and reached his empty hand behind his back to draw another dagger and hold it by the blade, hefting its weight slightly between his fingers. "Name's Milo. I've been out of town for a while and I hear you boys are the biggest and ugliest on the harbourside. That true?"

"So people say. What of it?"

"Sounds like the sort of group I want in on," replied Milo, his eyes locked on the man doing the talking. He paused just long enough to let the man draw a breath and open his mouth to deliver what was no doubt a cutting put down. "Problem is that I'm more of a leader than a minion, and you're in my way."

The polite smile remained on Milo's face as his wrist flicked forward and the throwing dagger left his hand. Before it even reached its target, he was moving forwards with daggers drawn.
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Jamario Moone » Thu Apr 10, 2008 1:09 am

It was a dark night, cold dark night. The animals were running abound across the plains. Silence, there he laid, softly on the green grass. He looked up in the sky, the dark blue sky, the sky was clear, one can clearly see the moon. Suddenly, the land shakes, clouds began to form, it covers the moon slightly. then, a voice. a voice coming out of nowhere

Behold the chosen one.
You have been called my brother.


He loooked around, panicking.

what was that?

again the voice said.

You have been chosen.
Now go forth to the dark temple, there i shall grant you great power that will end this war once and for all.


He thought to himself, am i dreaming? Nonetheless, he picked up his sword, and began his journey to the dark temple.
You got Mooned.
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Junn Moone » Fri Apr 11, 2008 1:53 am

Something is different. There is a tingling sensation on the back of my neck. Gods, what is it now? I do not need any more obstacles in my path. If I don't make it to my old friend Heller's before morning, my end is inevitable. I cannot face these killers-for-hire on my own.

Wait till I get to Heller's. He will put an end to this marathon.

Something is definately different! I have strength returning to my legs. My vision seems to be less blurred. I can remember back to my early childhood with crytal clarity! By the Hammer, what is happening??
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Remus Moone » Fri Apr 11, 2008 8:44 am

'The moon beckons', a clear voice said. The was a rainy night and two hooded figures stood in the rain and overlooked the city. One of the two nodded. The moon was full and both knew that this time there was something different. The Moon God was calling out to the Chosen and his followers. The time of the gathering had finally come.

'Prepare. I shall leave soon and you will have to take over my tasks in these parts'. Again, the fat man nodded and he descended the stairway. Now alone, the taller of the two raised his hands to the sky and took a deep breath. He muttered a few words to himself and shook back his hood. A bald head was revealed, the skin white as the finest marble from the dwarven mines. The thin lips under the large, hooked nose split into a smile and the man was trembling with excitement. After the gathering things would change. No longer would they have to hide in the crowds! No longer would they be forced to live among the filthy heathens! Soon this cathedral would be a place of worship for the Moon God openly, instead of secretly!
As a cloud obscured the moon, Remus Moone clenched his fists. With fire in his eyes, he snarled a prayer into the night:


My one true God
Blessed are thee
Give us strength and ferocity
Give us freedom and wisdom
Blessed be thy name

My one true God
Blessed are thee
Lead me to thy Chosen
Grant us victory and freedom
Blessed be thy name

Blessed be as I do thy will



As he lowered his arms, the cloud moved on and the moon illuminated the streets again. 'Illuminate my path as you illuminate these streets. Soon blood will flow and this city shall be cleansed', Remus whispered. Then he too descended the stairs.
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby SailorMoone » Fri Apr 11, 2008 1:20 pm

Father, I am not ready yet. I am so scared

My child, Our God has chosen your destiny. You have inherited the mark of faith. Your destiny is to lead the God's children your brothers and sisters into battle. It is your destiny to paint the soil with your enemies blood

But Father, I am not ready to die. I am not ready to feel in the pain of leaving my breathren

Child, you are foolish to believe in your death. Those who are destined for greatness will survive with Barnabas's will. Now leave, the other faiths are beginning to move. Don't waste time, your allies are dying by the second.

With that dream, Sailor Moone woke up and looked outside. The latterns are lit, the defenses fortified. Will our people be slaughtered? Or will the moon shine red from the reflection of our enemies blood
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Ryzin Moone » Sun Apr 13, 2008 10:17 pm

He rolled around on the cot, a cold sweat forming on his brow. The nightmares have returned. He could see it so clearly, like he was there. On his left was his mother, the look of horror on her delicate face as she tried to reach for him. His oldest brothers holding her back. His father on the right, no emotion but a look of determination on his face. He had come to peace with the decision long ago and knew it was the right course to take. The rest of his brothers and sisters in the middle, the older ones caught between understanding what was happening and coming to grip with the loss of a brother. The younger thinking it was a game and laughing.

He was not Ryzin Moone at this time. He was young, in human years no more then a teen. He was the seventh born of nine. Five brothers, three sisters all no more then a couple years apart. From an early age he was afflicted with a deadly disease. It made his limbs cringe and weak. His body contorted, his growth stunted. He barely ate, he hardly slept. Some days were better then others, but the pain was constant. His father consulted the clerics. The herbal remedies they provided did no good, they proclaimed him a lost cause. Most could not believe he still lived, most afflicted with the disease died and died horribly. Something kept him on the brink of death, but pulled him back. His mother retreated with him to the most hidden of places; a land inhabited by what remained of the gypsies of old. Her ancestors. The wild magicks of the gypsies helped a little, but either their power was too weak or the disease was too strong. He soon relapsed. As a last resort the dark magicks of the ancient deviants were consulted. This did the most good but at a lengthy price. The power of the spells deformed him, to the point that the goodness of his mothers heart would not allow anymore harm to come to her son.

Then the day came when a priest, dressed simply in drab colorless robes appeared on the steps of their hovel. He claimed he had heard of the child who would not die, but could barely live. He proclaimed he had a cure, a spell so powerful that not even the natural power of the gypsies or the dark magicks of the deviants could match it. A remedy so powerful that a man could be reborn. Little did this priest or his mother know, but his father and oldest brother had already made the decision that he could suffer no more. They had devised a plain to make his death seem to be an accident, to ease the blow to their mother. It did not take much to convince his father to let the priest take the boy. If nothing else, the screams of pain and torment would be gone. His mother took it the hardest, and thus she was held back by his oldest kin.

He doesn't remember much after that time or how much time had passed. When he left his hair was long and blonde, his eyes blue. His ears the shape of the elves. A gift from his mothers ancestors; a half-elven gypsy. He only inherited his fathers will, his brothers gaining the rest of his fathers looks. He could remember being taken to a temple deep in the desert. He remembers pain, a deep pain that burnt his soul. His hair was shaved off. The flesh of his ears were torn, burnt and reshaped to appear more human. His nose broke repeatedly until it was flat. They burned the flesh of his head so no hair would ever grow. His body was tattooed with various symbols unknown to him at the time. One tattoo was placed on the back of his head and infused with some magicks that made it glow blue when the moon was high.

Years passed and he was trained. He was given the name Ryzin by the priests with whom he now lived. His pain was gone, his bones were straight and his body had healed. He grew to human height and learned the arts martial. His days were consumed of study and prayer; he learned the religions and history of the old gods, of the heathen gods, of the prophets and the false gods. He learned of the birth of the mortal gods and was given the foresight of what was to come.

His birth parents had died. His mother almost one hundred and twenty moons ago, his father more recently within the last fifty. He never saw them again after he was taken, and he felt in different about that. He does not remember who he was, and barely remembers the pain of his childhood. He was born again, at first a Convert of the Numi. The secret cult of Moon Worshipers who cured him. He rose to the rank of Priest and then was given the mantle of Abbot. He could feel the power of Numi when he prayed, and he was given a vision of a time when the man who rescued him, the Voice of Numi as he had come to find out would perish. He knew what they had been training him for, he knew the will of Numi.

When the visions of war came the prophecy was fulfilled. The Voice of Numi gave his life in a skirmish to protect all that they hold dear, and the Moon God had called upon him. It was the ultimate form of devotion, but a mantle he accepted proudly. He had foreseen the call of Numi to his brethren across the lands. He knew they would soon gather and that the time for them to fight drew near. He did not fear the battle which was to come, or the blood which would be spilled. He was born in pain and suffering, and then he was born again in peace and harmony. He has walked the earth as the Voice of Numi for several decades now, teaching his brethren. Converting those who could be converted. Now it was the time to lead his brethren into battle, the time for the Moon God's people to show the might the Grey One granted them.

A small trickle of sweat ran down into his eye causing him to sit up. The nightmare was over, but the time for war had begun.
"The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in times of great moral crisis, maintain their neutrality."
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Junn Moone » Tue Apr 15, 2008 12:51 am

I have arrived home. Many moons have passed since I once traversed these sprawling lands. The Mountains of Sire still lay off in the distance, white peaks glistening in the sunlight. I have spent several years dwelling in the cave networks that pocket the mountainside. From time to time I would dare enter the cities to hunt my next prey. Those days are behind me. I now have enough blood from the heathens, I shall not want.

Passing through several villages, I notice the power and effect of Numi in each face I see. Calm confidence has cascaded upon these people. Thousands of prayers sing in concert. At the center of each village, a glistening tower of Moon worship. Red-gold banners snapping crisply in the morning breeze. Children playing with their pets.

They are no longer frightened of me. I can now take my rightful place as Leader of the Clans, as was my father before me. Long has the mighty Chair of Indignity sat empty in my absence. Once again, we shall fire up the Forges of Sire, gather the Arcanum, and rally the mightiest warriors of these lands. We are a cohesive force and shall prevail over our enemies. My name is Junn Moone. Mother to my people, subjugator to my foes. My powers have fully blossomed. I bind myself to these people and these lands. Let no one dare intrude or they shall feel my bite on their rotted necks.

Now I must prepare my chambers with lavish exotics for a night of merriment.

Tonight we celebrate the flesh.

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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Milo Moone » Tue Apr 15, 2008 3:08 am

The daggers were little more than a distraction; he tripped the oncoming thugs and lashed out with his fists at any who came too close, taking care to stay within the thin pathway of moonlight. The gang had weight and reach on their side, but he was more than agile enough to stay clear of them - aided by what was probably hours spent in the warehouse with the half empty bottles which littered the area. Soon the only people still standing in the belly of the warehouse were Milo and the gang members who had stood back and watched rather than risk joining in the attack.

"If you're quite done." Milo sheathed the daggers, and stepped back away from the groaning bodies on the floor. "I don't want to kill you all. I want to train you to run this harbour properly. I want to show you how to fight, how to steal, and how to recognise a captain who'll take a bribe and who won't ask questions." He paused and watched the fallen gang members for a moment, making sure none were about to interrupt him with an ill advised 'surprise' attack.

"You can either stay in the warehouse, learn from me and be in my Cabal, or you can pick up your old leader..." he gestured at the corpse which lay on the floor in a slowly expanding red circle. "...And get the fuck out of here."
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Johann Moone » Wed Apr 16, 2008 7:13 am

Johann was born of simple origins and simple means. His name was different long ago and couldn't be remembered. His family wasn't dirt poor but at the same time they weren't well to do. He came from a good family with good moral upbringings. He had an ordinary childhood, nothing significant. There was nothing really special about him other than his courage. He had fear of nothing to the point of stupidity. He'd climb the tallest tree to jump to the next in hopes of grabbing one of the branches to avoid hitting the ground. He'd poke a sleeping bear for sport among many other stunts. There were times he was lucky and times where he'd seriously injure himself and spend nearly a month in bed healing from his injuries.

Johann and his childhood friend Paque liked to go into the forest daily to see what kind of fun they could have. Johann had the feeling like someone was watching him the whole time they were walking. On this particular day, they found a large cave where the opening had been covered by a thick blanket of trees and vegetation growth. Being the curious boys that they were, they decided to venture a look see. At first impression, the cave was vast and they could tell it went deep inside the mountain side. After looking around they could see several different passages to choose from. They scoured the cave for hours when the came across a large tunnel. While laughing as the traveled through it, little did they know they had awaken a dragon. The dragon charged them, and Johann without thought, pushed his friend away and took the blow from the beast. With nothing to fight with, all he could do was take the punishment. His friend fled in fear at the sight of Johann getting ripped apart. His vision was a blurry red from the blood that crept into one of his eyes but he made out five figures who stood wearing long hooded grey robes. He saw them with their hands folded and chanting in a language he did not understand. After chanting, they outstretched their hands toward the dragon. Johann saw a bright light, brighter than anything he's ever seen causing temporary blindness. All he heard was a loud thud, knowing it to be the beast crashing to the ground.

There must've bee a point where he blacked out, because he remembered nothing up until the point when he woke. A grey-robed figure explained what happened. He explained how their magic had kept him alive and that they wanted him for a purpose. They had been watching him because of his fearlessness. His fearlessness would have been a fine trait for a powerful mage, or a stout warrior with magically blessed armor. For him, it didn't suit him well for he was an easy kill being a mere mortal human. He said they would've never chose him if he hadn't selflessly sacrificed himself for his friend. That act alone was good reason to offer him something no one else could. That was a trait that they hold dear. Johann didn't hesitate to say yes. He always wanted to be more than ordinary.

He spent decades learning the history of the cult and training in the arts of fighting and arcane knowledge. His devotion earned him the rank of Priest of Numi. He was told to go forth and build his own city and convert many followers and teach them the ways of Numi. He was to make the city strong for their purpose was close at hand. Johann did just that. He built a thriving city full of devout worshippers willing to do anything for the cause.

The Cult of Numi has spent so much time waiting and training new converts. The land has been ravaged for so long. The calling ended and the time for war was now.
My God put me on this earth to accomplish a certain number of things.
Right now I am so far behind that I will never die.
~Cult of the Moon~
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Jamario Moone » Wed Apr 16, 2008 11:14 pm

It has been a few days, long journey to the dark temple. It has been a while since the call, the voice. All he could remember, he could not sleep, all he could think is who that voice is.

blessed are those who do not see me but believe

what was that? it was that voice again. who are you? what do you want from me?

i have already told you, i am that i am, follow me, and i will grant you great power to end the war.

he woke up, he was not sure if it was a dream or not, but what he know is curious about who this voice is, and what is in stored for him in the dark temple.
You got Mooned.
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Re: Rise of the Moon. (Roleplay)

Postby Junn Moone » Wed Apr 23, 2008 2:06 am

The sandstorm had finally come to an end. Two days of brutal assault on the many villages in Junn's province had forced the populace inside. Trapped and isolated. The howling wind was like a frenzied troll as it broke through dwelling after dwelling. Darkness ruled.

Only hours had passed since the screaming had stopped. We dared look outside only to be greeted with settling sand and a thick shaft of moonlight slicing through the acrid cloud like a knife. Slowly the beam widened until eventually it dissipated the Chaos summoned storm entirely.

Damage assessments are still coming in. The reports so far seem minor. Most of her subjects are a bit disoriented. This is to be expected. We will collect ourselves in an expedient fashion.

Now to investigate the power behind the sand storm. This was not a random act of nature. This was an attack.

Time to collect her strength. Tonight she feeds.


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