| The Land of Avalon is a freeform medieval/fantasy roleplaying site loosely based on Arthurian lore. Avalon is home to many friendly members, administrators, and position holders, most of whom are always willing to RP, no matter how new a person might be to the site. With a large shop system full of various spells, items, and equipment no two characters are the same. With character races ranging from elves and humans to dragons, chimeras, and demons Avalon welcomes a wide range of races and RP skill levels. From the Northern Lands holding word limits suited for beginners to the West for the more advanced, no one is too inexperienced to join in on the fun. With a variety of deities and elemental guardians, kings and nobility to pledge to (or oppose) there is no shortage of roleplaying opportunity. Avalon is full of great members and staff with a great sense of humor, friendly welcomes, and a love for roleplaying. Avalon invites you to experience the magic, today! |
| The returning spirit | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 8 2009, 05:03 AM (100 Views) | |
| Anadán | Apr 8 2009, 05:03 AM Post #1 |
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In the darkness night of winter, a distant land slumbers. From upon a height rolling vistas of strange trees covered in a blanket of pure white snow can be seen. Great sheets of ice cover the land; in the distance a small village can be seen, the firelight from the huts illuminates a sheltered valley. At the seat of the valley a ring of broken and weathered stones lies, covered in moss and greenery. Within this circle there is no ice or snow only a roiling darkness, like smoke in the air. Suddenly the silence is shattered by a keening cry from within the darkness. The inky blackness condenses, changes into a form that is visibly humanoid. On closer inspection though this creature is far from human. Grooves mark his golden skin, unnatural markings and battle wounds. As the stranger lies upon the ground these scars and blemishes heal until the man is unmarked. Anadán looks up, fire glinting in his eyes climbing to the top of a small hill on the side of the valley, the snow smoking and melting beneath his feet. He mounts the crest of the hill; seeing the fire of the village below Anadán grins. His humanoid form begins to stutter and shake, like seen through a heat haze. Soon a black scaled demon sits atop the hill, gazing down with hungry eyes. He leaps from it, swooping down towards the village below - a man cries out, the hunters make for their weapons and the slaughter begins... |
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| Anadán | Apr 9 2009, 01:53 AM Post #2 |
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Anadán sits in the ruins of the village. In the fighting a fire was started, searing the earth and turning the small village into a burnt out husk. Only where the village meets the snowy forest does the burnt earth stop, the melting ice having exstuinguished it's fiery heat. Anadán staggers to his feet, casting his head about regretfully. So much potential wasted, so many lives destroyed - all from his lack of control. No longer demonic, he is but a man, a man who regrets much and remembers little. He knows he cannot risk changing again; even if his return went unnoticed in the heavens the Gods would soon become aware of his presence if he continued like this. No, he will bide his time, waiting patiently. Soon He will rise once more to glory but for now he is weak, cold and alone. He must gather followers, form a new host around himself - only then will he be able to do what he sought so long ago. His course decided Anadán walks away into the night. Edited by Anadán, Apr 9 2009, 05:22 AM.
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| Anadán | Apr 9 2009, 05:13 AM Post #3 |
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The morning sun rises over the distant land. Here the trees are sparser and the climate warmer, the snowy valleys giving way to grass strewn lowlands. Onto this landscape walks Anadán. His purpose definite now he moves resolutely South, not stopping for rest or nourishment; knowing that he must eventually rest but unable to shut his eyes for fear that there will be nothing there when he opens them. He strides through the long grass, working hard to keep his mind from dwelling on the void; on his imprisonment from the world in the darkness without. Such a punishment is not suffered without changing a person and Anadán is no exception. It takes a different kind of mind to survive in the darkness, a mindset that is not compatible with the mortal world. As he walks he often collapses to the ground, before shaking himself off several minutes later, looking confused. Desite his confused and weakened state he presses on firmly to the South; to Avalon. |
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| Arquetique Ataraxia | Apr 11 2009, 10:30 AM Post #4 |
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The distant lands. One of the places he had least expected himself to be. Yet, here he is, outside the lands of Avalon. A fighter working as a scout. Well, he was the only one that seemed not to be loafing around and available to be sent out. That or Kioku just liked to pick on him. Of course, his loyalty to her would mean that he will follower her every step of the way. She's neutral thankfully and chaotic, better. Well, at any rate, he owes his life to her and she practically holds his very existence in his hands. "Hm?" Ark's curiosity was piqued by a small scent. He sniffed around and was familiar with it. Blood. Lots of it. Much has been spilled nearby. Was this his purpose of being sent out? The village had been burned but it was not for the purpose of cleaning out the corpses. There were still several body strewn out, some burned, some just plain killed. There were no survivors, the village coffers were not empty and there was no one using it as a base. There were no hoofprints nor wheel marks which rules out a siege attack. He doubted that a group attacked the village. It was a massacre, and from what he had seen, it's possible that one being had gone berserk upon the small village. He saw footprints amidst the ashen ground and it piqued his interest. A survivor or the attacker himself? It was headed on to the south of Avalon. He decided to follow the trail. Whatever he would find, he would report it to Kioku. He heard many tales and gossips about villages being massacred but never seen one. Well, he just hoped that Kioku would at least take an interest in his find. |
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~Arquetique Ataraxia~The Lancer Servant~|||~Ark's Arsenal~ From Carter <3  Spoiler: click to toggle  Raffle Ticket 2009
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| Anadán | Apr 16 2009, 06:53 AM Post #5 |
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Anadán was walking, slowly and surely south. He was hardly aware anymore - his thoughts so deep that he was drawing further and further within himself. He was remembering, permitting himself to feel for the first time in millenia; he reveled in the victories of the past and wept at his failure. He remembered the battle, himself borne on wings of fire and light, the Gods riding upon chariots of starlight and ice. He remembered the clash, the struggle, slowly his strength leeching away - the realisation that he had played his hand to early; that his power is too little. He remembers Kioku shining above him; he remembers that terrible voice - judge, jury and executioner. He remembers the light, shining, terrible. He remembers the darkness; the madness, the despair. Most of all he remembers his conviction - there would come a time when he would rise again. A time when he would look on the Gods as equals and stand tall. Anadán awoke, realising that he had stopped in his recollection. He is laughing, loudly and uncontrollably. The exile is over and he is home, his ecstasy is uncontrollable and beautiful and his heart is singing in his chest. Gathering himself up he begins to walk again towards Avalon. |
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