The Black Plague of Black Marsh.The Sload, a repugnant race of highly intellectual slug men who feel no emotions like other Sentients of Tamriel; they think fast but move slower. They view all other life as play things and experimental canvasses, they are responsible for the biggest calamity to mar the face of Nirn since Men and Mer first walked the earth, soon enough they will be responsible for a second, the Black Plague of Black Marsh.
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Esctacy shot through the air like a thunderous current as the tribal drum beats reverberated rhythmically through the canopy around them; six fires burned around the great Hist tree, Argonians wearing feather covered skulls and masks danced around them nvde shaking crude instruments and ceremonial weapons, singing in unison with the Hist tree in their ancient and native language -- a mixture of shaking quills hissing noises and almost wrenching sounds from within their throats.
Every one was elated; the music flowed through their bodies like one long perpetual orgism, they chanted and beat their chests, howling into the night at the young ones walked forward almost like a unit, moving each foot forward at the same time. The tribe elder smiled as they walked closer to the Hist; one of the children wondered how he could see them if his eyes where stitched closed with the jerked intestines of the swamp walluga, a great eight legged boar hound that was traditionally hunted by their tribe.
The fires shot up higher and higher as the Hist energy was released into the air; nobody noticed a ball of pestilential black energy shooting forth from the grease covered hand of a corpulent plague infested Sload, hitting the Hist tree with a violent shudder that shook the swamp to its core. Nobody noticed as the veins of sap flowing through the bright green leaves turned from brightest yellows to darkest black.
And the children drank.
They drank from the Hist and did not stop; they gorged themselves on the liquid without pausing for air, their eyes filled with an ink like liquid and their scaled hardened and lost all colour? When the Hist dried out the music stopped.
The sound of the tribal beats were replaced by terrified screams.
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The walls shook and the ground trembled as towers crumbled and siege weapons fired; the prison was under attack and a battle could be heard outside, at first the prisoners rejoiced at the thought of being freed from their hateful place in the cramped six man cells, but the orders being shouted indicated that this was not a rescue mission staged by their allies and friends? This was something else.
"Free the prisoners and arm them with any spare weapons!" Some shouted through the din of the battle, the order was never carried out -- nobody came to free them from their holdings and soon enough all shouted orders and cries for help and reinforcement where replaced by blood chilling screams of pain and desperation.
Then all was quiet; the quiet suffocated the prisoners with a blanket of fear that the battle could not instil unto them, it seeped through their veins and froze their muscles and slowed their brains. They stood in silence as the dust fell from the ceiling above them.
"What the hell is happening out there?" One Imperial prisoner asked as a warm liquid flowed over his feet; he looked to his left to see a quivering Bosmer wetting his pants. "Should we try to escape?"
"And do what? Walk into a battle and die?" A surly stubborn looking Orc asked, one of his tusks was missing, he was the resident muscle and enforcer for the prisons largest gang, though loyalty didn't seem important right then and there in the cold damp freshly urine soaked cell.
"Its better than sitting here waiting to die, I agree with Max, lets get the hell out of here." A dunmer said, clapping Maximus the imperial on the shoulder, "What's your plan?"
"Simple, lift the gate off its hinges and walk out." It was simple, the prison wasn't exactly up to the standards of the imperial prison -- it was in Black Marsh, the perfect environment for a prison. If you escaped from it you would die on the out side, they didn't have to worry about highly secured vaults or cells. Simple hook joints would suffice.
Each prisoner gathered around the bars of the gate and lifted with all their strength; slowly it started to rise up off its hinges, they all strained under the burden until it finally slipped all the way off then they pushed -- crashing the gate into the opposite wall with an ear splitting crash.
"That was easy enough, why haven't we ever thought of that before?" The dunmer asked as they stepped cautiously from their confines.
"Because there was always a few guards on the other side waiting for an excuse to run us through with their swords." Maximus replied as he looked around for a weapon of some kind, he couldn't spot anything he would prefer to wield so instead he set about breaking the table legs off the night watch mans table. "Here, start freeing the other prisoners." he added, throwing a metal ring covered in keys he had found on the table to the pessimistic one tusked Orc.
Once the prisoners where freed they began to make their way out; the hall ways where empty and devoid of life, not even the rats that usually infested the place dared come from their hide holes? Something wasn't right. The Imperial looked around at his companions -- each was a picture of trepidation and fear, many of them where armed with table and chairs legs, some with nothing but their bare fists.
Then they saw it.
A landscape of ash coloured trees and a blood drenched floor forming a congealing sludge like soup of body parts and organs; there where no bodies however, no remnants of the battle save for the limbs left behind? no weapons could be seen nor armour. The guards had either ran for their lives or chased down the aggressors. Whatever it was Maximus wasn't keen to find out.
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Rules:
1. Vampires are ok, have a very good reason for why they are here though, they will be greatly weakened by the sunlight though not directly damaged by it thanks to the gas like sub-atmosphere shielding the swamp from the not so vampire friendly rays.
2. No were-critters, just too uber.
3. Weapons are to be improvised on the spot, branches sharpened to a point or chair legs turned to clubs are acceptable, swords and maces and all manner of man made weapons are not.
4. Armour is allowed depending on your character, should you choose to be a legion guard or mercenary of some sort delivering prisoners with bounties to the prison you may wear armour at your own risk, and that risk shall be great. Armour is heavy and restricting and this is a swamp.
5. No ubering, you kill five zombies single handed without a scratch I send ten more, you kill ten more I send a hundred. Be on your toes and fight to survive. In other words, be realistic.
6. Character control is not allowed unless discussed via PM first, in which case please make sure you make it clear that it is has been discussed for the benefit of other played via OOC: tag so you don't get wrongfully accused of unlawful character control
. If your character is injured and needs help walking feel free to let people know via OOC that mild character control is ok so long as its just to help them move.
7. Romance is allowed if you find the time but keep it clean.
8. Absolutely NO OOC only posts, if its urgent please PM either myself or somebody you know if going to post so they can tag their own post in an OOC for your benefit. Or post in the General discussion thread.
9. PM all character sheets to me for approval.
10. If you are unsure of something PM me (Example being, you want to kill something big and hairy but you don't want it to look uber).
Character Sheets:
Name: (Nicknames and pronunciations as well if possible)
Age: (don't have to be specific, a ball park figure like 20-25 or 40-45 will suffice)
Race: (Try to be lore correct, Khajiit and Argonians are known to have sub races to let us know which, if you're a vampire let us know what clan you originate from.)
Gender: (obvious)
General Appearance (include height, weight, build, hair colour eye colour hair style facial hair, everything you can into this bit.)
Clothing/Armour: (Be aware that prisoners don't wear prada.)
General skills and talents: (Describe what your guy does best and why he is trained in that art. Tell us if he also likes to paint or sing, it all counts really. Don't just say "Heavy armour, Restoration, Destruction.", try to break out of the habits of game mechanics if you can.)
Personality and temperament: (Wets himself under pressure? She giggles furiously when shes scared? Goes quiet around strangers? It all goes here.)
Brief History: Doesn't have to be pages long just give us a general idea of your character and what he/she is about. Secondary characters (who are destined to die or just arent that important) Can be left blank and developed along the way.
Misc: Couldn't fit something any where else? Put it here
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We will be using http://s190.photobucket.com/albums/z10/leecarey_2007/cyrodiillargelowrescr7.jpg I will be adding a Key and marking certain things on the map as the story progreses (including our own groups should we separate and objectives should the arise.)
Current Objecteives:
1. Survive.
2. Escape Black Marsh.
» Fri Mar 11, 2011 3:49 pm 
