|
The Dying Breed
- Posts:
- 269
- Group:
- Head Admin
- Member
- #1
- Joined:
- May 26, 2008
|
Normalcy

A mother dead from birth...
...A grief-ridden father who later took his own life
Much of Roark's History is lost in obscurity, much haze clouding his past. Whether or not it was from the trauma or if simply because he didn't want to remember, but his childhood years have all been forgotten. However, the Sell-Sword first made his mark as an archer in the Allioquin Long bowmen Corps; a Bowmen organization known for their talent at long distance archery. Roark had earned himself the title of 'Tactical Sniper' when you combined his talent with bows and his abilities as a tracker. That was at the age of fourteen. He stayed with them for two more years until his unit went into combat and he discovered his company leader had been bribed to back stab their own army. Roark went A.W.O.L. in that battle and started his life as a mercenary-for-hire. The place he had known as home no longer could be, and now he no longer had a home at all. They had made sure that his reputation as a deserter spread quickly and only those of the lowest morals would hire Roark.
Spoiler: click to toggle
<~>---<~>
Yeah, I was sixteen when it happened. We were only called out for the larger, more important skirmishes or if the enemy decided to use nothing but Plate Infantry. Ummhmm, Allioquin was pretty much my home, and my company mates were my family. I had residence there in the Long bowmen barracks, and it was an easy life when we weren't being called on.
I'm getting to it, relax guys. This isn't the easiest thing for me to talk about.
There was news of a Merchant's Army gathering near our borders, and it was supposed to be a large force. They mobilized just about all of the reserve troops, and had us set up where they expected to hold the battle front, but when my company got out there the Commander was speaking with someone, someone from the other army judging by their looks. It was brief, but there was an exchange of smiles and handshakes. I knew from there on something was going to go badly.
I don't know who would do such a thing. Just proof that simple life out here is much less troublesome, eh?
The battle started, and we waited hidden in our cloaked positions, listening to the sound of weapons clashing, the screams of men dying. The Commander turned to everyone in the company, and there was much silent nodding, like there was something they hadn't told me but told everyone else. I was perched on the top of the hill, acting as a scout and relaying coordinates to the company, so I wasn't part of the main firing squad, but what I witnessed confused me. Their aim turned onto our heavy infantry.
I'll tell you this, they never stood a chance.
It wasn't long before the Merchant's army started to push the line back. I didn't know what to do or even what to think. I knew they had betrayed our own side, but I was stunned, completely mortified at the sight. I watched them mow down some great men. I was called upon while listening to arrows whistle towards our own side. The Commander wanted me, and I was still so dazed I only obeyed him. He put a hand on my shoulder, checking on me. I was still young, and very fragile in most people's eyes. Most of what he said was mumbled to me, but I clearly heard, "Take out General Cabul."
Yeah, he was the Army Head of the Allioquin forces, and the Longbow Commander thought I was the only one capable of taking the shot.
It was like a dream, my body on auto-pilot. Before I even knew it I had nocked an arrow and had my sight set on the General. My arm was shaking as it held the string in place. It begged for me to let the string go, to let it rest from the pressure of the bow, but if I did I would end the General, someone whom I had come to respect. When it looked like I was starting to hesitate the Longbow Commander started shouting at me to release the arrow and do as I was ordered.
That's when I made my decision, a decision that probably made my lifetime...
I adjusted my aim, fired the arrow off, and didn't even wait to see where it hit, but I knew it wouldn't hit the General. I swung my bow in an arc and caught the Commander in the side of his head. He was toppled like a pile of bricks, and I slid down the hill which turned into me tumbling, and then rolling as my boots caught a random root and I was thrown off balance. Once I hit solid ground, I ran, ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I charged right through the battle, dodging attacks from both sides in hopes I could make it through alive.
After that day...I just never looked back. Too much betrayal, too much darkness...
<~>---<~>
After a few months of smaller jobs acting as a scout for several smaller skirmishes he finally got into what earned him his reputation as a big name Sell-Sword: Assassin Contracts. Many knights and noblemen fell to his bow, and with just one arrow. It was just to survive, but it was what he needed to do, and he followed that path for another few years until he was seventeen.
Spoiler: click to toggle <~>---<~>
This I'll have to keep a bit tame for you kids...as this story wasn't one of my better ones....
Anyway, there I was, in some seedy bar in the middle of no where. It was an Inn for traveling merchants to stop at, but it also acted as a great place to do business for those who didn't want to draw attention. There I was, sitting down at a table, munching on a piece of stale bread as I waited for my employer to show up to give me my contract. He was a few minutes late, and late never meant good, but he did show up. As he walked towards me he looked nervous, and I knew something was up. While waiting for him to arrive I had been watching all the others who were coming in.
You know it, I was being set up. What did I do you ask? Well, sit back and listen.
He started off casually, but his voice was unsteady, like he had been waiting for something, and I knew in that instant what was about to happen. I watched as two people I had taken note of when they walked in make a strange movement and I flipped the table up in time to prevent a pair of fire balls from blasting me. Sadly, my employer had been on the wrong side of the table, he died, I could smell his burning flesh. The table started to burn away as the attacks kept on coming, and I could here the shouting in the odd language. They were from Belmoth, or at least trained there. I steadied the table with one hand, grabbed my chair with another, and with some good guessing, flung the chair over my barrier. I saw the lights flash higher as they targeted the chair, and that's when I made my move. I rolled out from behind the table, drew a trio of knives from my belt and hurled them at the duo. The first one didn't even see it coming, but his partner did. One fell and the other remained alive.
You think I was off scott free? Ha! I wish.
It was just then that I was ready to take on the final assassin head to head when a large fist came down on the top of my head. My mind was spinning, and I thought I was done, but the Belmoth Assailant and the big guy standing on top of me began to go at it. I got stepped on a few times, but remained still, waiting for my chance to act. It was when the big guy was back over top of me, I pulled my hunting knife from my boot and drove it into calf, pulled it out, and rammed it into his knee. There was a hard crack and he toppled over, blood running down his leg and drenching my sleeve. I recovered just in time to take blow to the chest, a fireball if you hadn't guessed. There's nothing like the smell of your own searing flesh to make you react to the moment faster. Another arcane blast came at me, I dodged, and charged forward. His hooded face was my target, and as I closed the distance he became fidgety. He was a bad assassin. I could read his thoughts by simply watching his body language.
Yeah, there was a certain behavior the better assassins had. This guy was probably fresh out of the Belmoth Mage's Academy.
I drove my right fist into his exposed jaw, he spit blood, and stumbled backwards. His recovery wasn't bad, but his fighting stance wasn't very good; he hadn't seen much of the fist fighting world. He took a few swings, I sidestepped them and caught him in the jaw with a left hook, but he didn't go down that time, instead he stayed as still as stone. A charm around his neck caught my eye and it seemed to shimmer. He was calling upon magic to amplify his poor physical prowess. It was safe to say I was beginning to worry. I reached back pulling the butter knife he had on his table, and took a few slashes at him...he didn't even show a sign of pain, and he slugged me in the stomach, knocking all the air out of me.
It was bad. He may have been new at the job, but he had magic to bolster him when he needed it, and that put me at a disadvantage.
His hand grabbed onto my knife wrist and he turned the blade against me. He forced it into my chest, and I gained my second wind; that happens when your life is on the line. I grabbed onto his hand with my free one and pulled it out, a gasp leaving my lips as the metal slid out of my flesh; such an odd feeling. However, the flaw to magic is that it has its own limits, and when you push them too much they start to weaken, and even from time to time drain the user. It started to happen, I could feel his great strength start to seep away as I slowly inched the knife back towards him. We both fought for dominance of the weapon, and it looked even for a long time, but I knew how to handle a knife, and also knew that the one we were fighting over was poorly made. So, I grabbed onto the blade with a hand, snapped it off, cutting my hand in the process, and rammed it into his throat. There was a spray of blood, and my vision went crimson.
Yeah, I had made it out on top, and I don't think I was the strongest one there, but I was the smartest.
I let the body slump down into its chair, and I turned to the large man who was trying to stand on his ruined leg. He wouldn't walk on that again, but the will of an Assassin was a scary thing. He watched me as I walked up to him. With a boot to the face I felt his nose collapse, and with a second one I brought it down upon his neck, breaking it underfoot. Pieces of bone protruded from the flattened part of his neck and blood leaked through the holes. That was it, I grabbed my knives and walked out of there. My contract killing turned out to be my own attempted killing.
Yeah, it happens. Assassins target other assassins if the price is right.
<~>---<~>
At which point he had been hired by the merchant's state and stayed on under a Blade Captain named Oren Magnar. During this time was when he learned how to sword fight. The Captain had been kind enough to teach him how to defend himself up close when his bow would otherwise fail him. Roark was actually content to stay there, and viewed his superior as a role model of sorts. The Captain was actually of decent values, but before Roark could enjoy that time the Captain fell in battle. They had been sent on a suicide mission, to act as a distraction for a main force, and nearly the whole platoon had been wiped out; Roark survived.
Spoiler: click to toggle <~>---<~>
I was hired onto the Merchant's army for a bit, and placed on a platoon as an advanced recon scout. The Captain was a Bladesmaster by the name of Oren Magnar, and unlike most of the scum that got hired to head the Merchant's mercenaries armies, he was a good man. I looked up to him. He took me in with open arms, and I instantly meshed in with the platoon like I had been there for years. After a few battles Oren had realized I had a weakness when the enemy got too close and my bow became worthless. So, knowing that, he decided to pass on some of his talents of the blade to me, but this isn't the story I wish to tell. The story I do want to tell is that of our last battle.
The Merchant State was at war with itself, its Merc Military Generals battling it out for high dominance. My platoon was given orders to act as a scout group to watch for three of the other General's forces who had joined together in an effort to eliminate all the other competition. As soon as we set out to fulfill our orders The Captain sensed the same amount of unease that I had in our mission; something didn't seem right.
Kids, don't interrupt me during this story please.
We arrived at our outpost by late evening, and locked the place down, leaving two scouts as lookouts for us. Oren had sent me out every hour or so to do a parameter check, and to sweep for other scouts; I had killed three wandering scouts, but no response came from their deaths so it was just thought to be nothing of much notice. I couldn't sleep that whole time we were there, I just couldn't with this cloud lingering over my sense of security. The other scouts were going in on rotation, and I remained on the look out. They took a few minutes more than usual knowing I was up there; I didn't mind.
And in this next moment...everything was plunged into darkness.
With a glance upwards, I admired the stars of the night, but when my eyes settled back down on the fields before me I was utterly stunned. The horizon was filled with so many arrows you couldn't see the skyline. The two new scouts had come back up just in time to see it as I shouted out an alarm. They both got caught in the barrage, and from the screams, the few that had been outside all fell to the projectiles too. I only survived because I managed to hug the wall of the outpost. It's a sight you'll never forget...watching your comrades get slain right in front of you. I could hear Oren's shouts over the constant pitter patter of arrows; it was like rain fall. He was busy rallying up all the survivors and trying to tend to those who could be saved.
I didn't even hesitate. I had my bow in my hand already...
I popped up, and gazed beyond the wall, an arrow already leaving the quiver and meeting the string. What I saw was....terrible....Thousands of soldiers were marching on the hills towards us; cavalry, archers, heavy infantry, and even siege weapons. I let the arrow go after having drawn it back as far as I could. I watched as it felled an infantry squad commander. They were my targets. Kill the command and you kill the army. I didn't have enough arrows to do the job, though....other archers joined me on the wall, and I watched as the gates to the outpost opened up and Magnar, with fifteen of his best swordsmen marched out to meet them. With only a glance back to me up on the wall he turned and started the last walk of his life.
I called out to him with tears in my eyes. He didn't even turn back to look.
The Sergeant began giving orders to barricade the place. We were to hold for as long as humanly possible. That wasn't long for thirty-five against thousands....and even less for sixteen against those same numbers...I couldn't let it stand...I ran from the gates before they had locked them down for good. I chased after Captain Magnar, but as I reached the peak of the first hill I was too late. I watched as he clashed head on with hundreds of enemy soldiers. In the first exchange seven of Magnar's men fell from the overwhelming numbers. Magnar himself was a force to reckon with, his skill with a longsword matched by none on the battlefield. From the hill I kept on nocking arrows and sending them into enemy soldiers who would dare try and strike down one of my own. I knew it was futile, I really did, but deep down I couldn't help but stay in place, firing until I ran out of arrows. I hadn't even noticed, but the enemy had been funneling around, secondary forces aiming for the outpost. A large ax came down with intent on ending me. I threw up my bow in defense, and it deflected the blow, but splintered in the process. Just like I had trained with Oren, I didn't hesitate, I drew one of my short swords and rammed it into the attacker's stomach, drew the second, spun and slashed his throat.
Everything after that was hard to recall....I remember fighting for hours, or what seemed like hours anyway. I had held my own to an extent, but had enough common sense to start backing away from the main spearhead. There was no way I'd survive in the middle of the battle like that. I started to move away, towards a clearing that wasn't swarming with soldiers.
When I was finally clear of any direct threats, I climbed up into a tree, watching the siege on the outpost. It was a completely one sided fight. It was no scouting mission....we were decoys. Just as they broke through the gate... our General's army flanked their main force. He had sent us to die so he could try to win this pitiful war between sell-swords. I didn't stay to see who won, I didn't care. I tried to spot any of my own platoonmates, but failed, and something in my gut told me they weren't taking prisoners.
That was a lesson to me: Never get too comfortable because you're always yanked away from something you find too cushy. That's why I fight as hard as I do now to protect your village and everyone here.
<~>---<~>
After that he fell into drifting between jobs for years more, never once again finding a place he felt at ease. Many more battles awaited him, but there had been one in particular, a really fierce exchange between countries....
Spoiler: click to toggle <~>---<~>
Working as I did, you don't really know who're your friends, who're your enemies, or where you'll end up next. Talk of Levant and Albion growing tired of each other spread throughout the underworld traffic, and it soon became an uproar when both countries started to hire on mercs to boost their own numbers.
Me? Oh, I didn't pick sides. I never did. I ended up on Levant's rosters, though.
I was added to a bowmen squad to act as an augment, but the Squad Captain was a weak man. When we got sent towards the front line he panicked and made us walk in circles in the forest near here for hours, delaying our arrival on the front. That's when we stumbled upon this village as a large scouting party of Albion Soldiers were ransacking the place, you were too young to remember it, luckily. The Captain had us fire a few volleys, completely ignoring the fact we could have hit innocents, but he ordered a retreat as soon as the Albion knights took notice of us. I didn't budge, and he became furious, but only stayed around long enough to shout at me before running behind his men as three knights grew close.
I dispatched the three, and moved deeper into the village, using the wheat fields as cover for myself. I sat and observed for thirty seconds and counted fifteen of them.
I know, suicide, right? One versus fifteen. Why I did it...I'm still not sure.
I ditched the bow they had given to me and took out my own longbow, strung it in the fields, and started sniping as many of them as I could. After I had downed four they took notice of me and set the fields on fire to draw me out. They shouted threats, they said they'd burn the village down if I didn't surrender myself. From my count all of the remaining scouts had gathered, waiting for me to emerge, they had your mother and sister and threatened to kill them if I wasn't hasty.
Now, listen to me, what I'm about to tell you is completely reckless, and I don't approve of it at all, but...it was all I had at the time.
I nocked two arrows in my longbow, took sight on the two holding your mother and sister, and let them fly. Both hit their marks, and I charged out of the burning wheat, both of my short swords drawn, shouting as I started melee with nine heavily armed and armored soldiers.
Impossible? Well, I'm sitting here aren't I? So, I guess it wasn't.
It was futile, though...Ha..the numbers were just overwhelming. Your mother and sister had the smarts to run, though, and I'm sure that's what saved my life. I had taken quite a few hits, and I was bleeding so much my uniform looked like it was crimson. At one point I remember being hit over the back of the head, my vision started to fade in and out, and I took a deep stab to my stomach.
Yeah, yeah, that scar you've seen. That's it.
I remember hitting the ground, and a lot of shouting, but it wasn't of the Albion soldiers. Guess what it was? You bet! Your Father and a handful of the other farmers had come from hiding after hearing some random Levant soldier was defending them, and they came running armed with all manner of weapons, mostly farming tools, and drove the remaining Albion soldiers off.
<~>---<~>
Roark was in recuperation there for months recovering from the wounds he sustained protecting the no-name village. The villagers had accepted him, grateful for his deeds, and that is where he stayed from that day forth. Dropping off the face of the earth as Roark the Sell-Sword or Roark the Assassin. Instead becoming Roark the Farmer. News traveled fast among those who knew the mercenary channels that Roark had finally been felled, and so, he faded from every one's minds.
Edited by Wolfy, Aug 28 2012, 05:43 PM.
|
|
The Dying Breed
- Posts:
- 269
- Group:
- Head Admin
- Member
- #1
- Joined:
- May 26, 2008
|
Twilight

- Lost in Dusk
-
For so long I hadn't had any real guidance, no direction in which to guide myself. An arrow without purpose is unpredictable, dangerous to the world or wasted upon the wind.
My head ached, swimming in an uproar of thundering drums and flashing lights. After a few moments I discovered it was just the beat of my heart and my eyes adjusting to the murky light I was currently bathed in. The air was dry and completely still. The trees that looked like they were made of stone, didn't sway or move. Time around me seemed frozen. I waited patiently in hopes that life would suddenly return, but the desolate landscape remained dead. My entire shuddered in dread as waves of pain resonated outward from somewhere deep within me. There were no wounds, nothing I could see or feel out. No blood. Nothing. It felt as if my soul had been mortally wounded and was decaying with each passing minute. My memory didn't want to conjure up my last moments before these either. Everything was just on the edge, but bathed in a murky fog, much like the dusk I was currently cast into.
There were ruins around me. Pieces of an old village. After great effort, I managed to find a single building still standing. Normally I would run for it, hoping for salvation, but the very sight of it filled me with icy terror. Every fiber of my being screamed to stay away from it. After the first sight of it, it felt as if something was always watching me, hiding in the shadows of the twilight.
Survival became paramount, and knowing I didn't want to deal with whatever was inside that building, I turned towards the stone-like trees and thrashed through the shrubbery, and run for what felt like miles and miles. When I finally collapsed and managed through another line of brush I found myself face to face with that same building. This only made me more fearful and I turned back around and ran, this time marking trees as a means to make sure I wasn't doubling back on myself. I was tired and in an immeasurable amount of pain, there was no knowing for sure I was moving in a straight line or in the right mind.
Despite my efforts, the looming tower always reappeared before me and each time I felt as if whatever was chasing me was getting closer.
I continued this for what felt like days more. Covering my tracks, setting traps in an attempt to shake this hunter I knew was so close.
The tower was still there. Dark. Ominous. Warped...
I had seen many terrible things growing up. Death, rape, plague. All such things didn't compare to the mounting despair. Each step drove me closer to insanity, to death of a different kind.
Finally after arriving back to the tower after what felt like the millionth time, I took step towards it. My mind and body shouted warnings, beckoning me away from the doom that awaited me through the shadowed entrance, but I knew whatever was pursuing me would be upon me soon. It was better I force it into a place I could better defend myself. Right? That's how I reasoned it...
Passing through the threshold of the entryway, I was submersed in shadows and felt like I was swimming in them. There was no longer a ceiling or a floor or walls, just blackness. Turning back I saw a pinprick of light that I knew was the entrance. It was miles away now. Instinct told me there was no going back. Steeling myself, I traversed deeper into the shade, unknowing as to what I would find, if anything. Surrender to this cruel world had occurred to me. Just stop running and allow whatever it was chasing me to consume my being and be done with it. It had been a thought. Just a thought. That was it. Survival meant more to me. Something drove me to keep breathing.
I hadn't eaten in days. I think it was days. I hadn't had water or anything to drink for longer. None of that existed in this unlimited twilight. No matter how long I had run, tried to count the seconds to form a timeline, it always remained at dusk, never changing time. Part of me was beginning to believe I had a goal here, something to do. Since I hadn't been able to track or trap the creature on my tail, the tower was the only other thing I hadn't observed. It was just so much easier to run. Fear was a great motivator.
I walked for hours. Finding nothing but more of the infinite void.
I was lost.
Without guidance once more.
Almost poetic.
You seek a way from the shadows, trying to find a way into the light. Instead embrace them.
The voice didn't startle me. It was mine.
The world has been cruel. The wicked rule and kill the innocent before your very eyes.
For the longest time I had observed cruelty on levels I hadn't even known possible from just average people, shop owners, farmers; the rich and privileged always being the worst.
I was angry that I watched so much of it and could never change it. Not truly.
Release your rage upon the world. Embrace that which you have run from and take upon the duty that will help you right the wrongs set before you. Like many others, they fear the hollow void darkness offers. Embrace them as you would it. Find purpose in your fury, in the void. Do what has to be done to provide balance to the world.
So badly did I want to accept.
But behind me was the hunter.
Around me was nothing.
I accept.
A thought. Not even put into words.
Instantly the looming feeling of the hunter vanished. I was aware of myself once more. I could see my fingers, my hand, my arm. Clouds of darkness slithered around me, welcoming me into its embrace. Fear no longer conquered my emotions. Instead I was relaxed. Comfortable. There was no anger, no grief, no guilt.
There was acceptance.
When Roark had gotten back onto the plains of Levant, he could recall everything clearly. Memories returned to him. All the strife in the world existed, but there was no longer anger. Waves of calm washed over him at the thought of all that was wrong.
With this new view, came more than just his own life, but the lives of those who had too accepted the shade. There was a stronger force guiding him than just some league of assassins. Fate offered to him the marks that would keep balance in the despicable world he inhabited. The armor he had arrived in granted him powers unimaginable. On some level he was aware of the danger, but always dismissed it due to his work. Each shadow before him had kept the balance in check and he would need to as well.
Darkness eventually found everyone.
Just for some more wicked it was always sooner than expected.

~A Man Possessed~
For a long time, it appeared as if a monster existed within the Hegemony of Assassins. Dark leather created from some unnatural beast, curved short-swords of the most wicked nature, metal armor that has no shine or sheen as if it only accepts darkness. With or without sunlight, the hooded helmet is always masked by shadows. Something deceptive permeates the armor, or perhaps the man within adding to it an unease that most can't shake. A long history has seemed to follow the beast dubbed "The Fel-Shadow". Felling whole nations, eliminating entire royal families and bringing with it death and despair in its wake, "The Fel-Shadow" is a creature of horrific legends.
For the span of about three years, a young red-headed archer had been lost in shadow, hazed by blood and guided by chaos. Roark had become an assassin of legendary proportions, regarded as a demon cloaked in shadow during his famed period. The insatiable desire to right the wrong in the world, to restore order via a spray of blood had conquered his mind for so long, but he had forced himself out of the void and back into the light. This forced a reawakening within Roark, stowing away his dark past. Every day is a struggle to not seek out retribution on the world, to descend back into the darkness and instead he tries to bring life into the world, protect that which deserves to flourish.
A part of Roark's history none knew about and a part some would never forget.
Confirmed Kills ~ Fame/Infamy Scale - I - II - III - IIII - IIIII Knight Commander Adrien Kailor - Fame IIII - Killed during a skirmish with Gellieth Forces Pirate Lord Jack "Ale" Rarette - Infamy III - Executed after an honor duel H.o.A. Circle Head Hera Lalait - Infamy IIIII - Killed publicly during a Circle Meeting as part of a Coup District of Commerce Commissioner Zacarei Dolt - Infamy IIII - Killed during a gathering of Gellieth Business Owners Allioquin House Representatives John Williams, Edmund Oreoas, Bridget Allard, and Joyce Selwyn - Fame II - Killed during a public debate Allioquin Capital Defense General Geoffrey Scarcliff - Fame IIII - Slain during an incursion of Dai'Lostos monsters
More TBA
Edited by Wolfy, Sep 1 2012, 04:23 PM.
|