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Dungeon Keepers: the Fifth Age. The end!  XML
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eLEMenTaL7


MouthBreather

Joined: 08/01/2010 12:29:08
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"Don't dig there! You want to bring the whole mountain toppling down on us?" After about another hour of yelling at the imps and telling them where to dig, they had finally got to what Gorsik thought to be the center of the mountain.
Gorsik remembered last week when he was cozy inside this little mountain that had been his home for well over a hundred years, only to awake and find about twenty stupid little 'humans' mining in his cave. One even tried to mine the ore out of his arm! Of course, when he woke, he had smashed them all to a pulp, but that was the final straw. For the last century dumb little fleshlings had constantly tried to push him around. Gorsik had always hated them, but now they had provoked him to the point that he decided to summon some imps.

"Okay, start building the dungeon heart here! And make it fast, because you aren't resting until it's finished." Gorsik had commanded, before sitting down and eating a nice big chunk of iron. Gorsik started describing himself and his situation, which strangely, he found relaxing. It also helped him think.

I am a middle aged Earth Giant, about 15 feet tall. Some say I'm rather short for a full grown giant, but I'm pretty good with magic. I like Earth spells the most. I don't need to be 100 feet tall to scare away annoying things or fight, because I am made of pure stone and metal, and almost nothing besides magic really hurts me. But even then, I just smash the annoying little things that try to kill me. I have many names. Some call me Gorsik the Behemoth. Other call me Gorsik the Mighty. But most call me Gorsik the Tumultuous.
Gorsik continued to think to himself while his imps starting building a huge throne room, which would serve as the dungeon heart.

For the last few days, Gorsik had been working with his imps, expanding the natural caves and tunnels in the mountain to make room for his new dungeon, which would be his base of operations in his campaign to drive the fleshlings out of Outremar once and for all.

This message was edited 4 times. Last update was at 03/30/2011 23:20:03


It's not easy being a super-evil robot with the task of exterminating all organic lifeforms.
Trust me, it's just not what it's hyped up to be. I mean, it can cause some really bad moments when I'm trying to be diplomatic and I'm like "Can I borrow your tank? Oh, and sorry for killing your mate...and your pets...and your, um, offspring." Usually after that it's just awkward silence. Don't click here!











Phoden


Civilized Sporeon

Joined: 11/20/2010 22:08:03
Messages: 2858
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Evil resserected

Somewhere in a underground cave with a lava stream.
An broken castle rests there.

Deep within a voice is heared.

"How foolish to pretend that thinking they are safe, Forgetting me. But it is in there nature to be forgetfull, even there king's and popes have forgotten me, It is time for me and my creation to remind them . Go my imps do as I have told you make way for Evil!"


Afther these words his Imps went out to restorate the castle, his dungeon with his hart in the center.

It was long ago so he had to remake the blueprint of one of his creations.

His Imps had orders to restorate the Dungeon, He first began with making his first blue print.

The horned demon http://www.google.be/imgres?imgurl=http://noctalis.com/dis/mightmagic/h5_creatures/inferno_demon.gif&imgrefurl=http://noctalis.com/dis/mightmagic/homm5_creatures_inferno.shtml&usg=__YlwJdu7r_Di1w2bruT0KAP8Jx5s=&h=64&w=64&sz=4&hl=nl&start=49&zoom=0&tbnid=5_HBtuwkiwtAaM:&tbnh=64&tbnw=64&ei=-XmTTZHPEpCfOura5cEH&prev=/search%3Fq%3Dhomm%2B5%2Bhorned%2Bdemons%26um%3D1%26hl%3Dnl%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26hs%3D5tL%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:nl:official%26biw%3D1280%26bih%3D526%26tbm%3Disch0%2C798&um=1&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=447&oei=53mTTd2iMMm0tAbEu9TRBg&page=3&ndsp=24&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:49&tx=33&ty=61&biw=1280&bih=526

This beast would be the mea tshield of his armies.

To attack in hordes and wipe out his enemies.

This was only the begin. The rebuild of the dark empire could begin. As the imps walked trough the halls they felt a chill in there back.

The statues of dark times where numerous in the old underground castle. The imps where so scarred but tthey had found themselve a new lord.


"You may ask, Who am I, I am Carmina rege. An keeper not of these creaturs who pretend that they are keepers, But I am a descendend of the Grand Children of Cormumag.
But the defeat of the Keepers and the Death of Cormumag. Made me slumber for so long. My armies who I build on dissepeared killed or died.

But The 5th age has begun and I am ready to show these so called 'Keepers' and humans that true evil has not died out.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 03/30/2011 19:30:45






lOOK at my epic people map.
cavalier639


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Joined: 04/03/2009 21:16:39
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((Try to work on your spelling and sentence fragments. These things are revered high above frequency of posting.))

The tomes that Ian had taken from the library lay in a heap on one of the myriad of stone bridges. The huge, bottomless pit that lay underneath the shallow web of walkways always loomed beneath the imps. One such imp was quick looking at the indexes and tables of contents of the tomes, taking in a summary of what they contained and determining their usefulness. A frown never left the imp's stolid face. At length, it looked up and cast its eyes to a couple of imps that were watching and awaiting orders. A bulky, sly-looking female whose name was Vype stood out among them as a superior. She was a different breed than the plains imps that surrounding her. Escre hissed in a reverberating fashion at her. "You are the Foreimp. I desire a library and a hoard room. Command their construction." Then, the Ethereal Keeper became a banshee and left her to her task.

Escre floated over to the summoning circles inscribe with the symbol of the Screamer and raised its arms. Immediately, glowing symbols rose and began to gyrate. A eerie greenish rift opened, and twenty banshees materialized. They scattered to meander the dungeon aimlessly.
BBeast


Civilized Sporeon

Joined: 01/01/2009 23:38:03
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OOC: To assist with spelling I suggest installing Mozilla Firefox. It contains a few built-in dictionaries, and more can be installed.


Detuiron located a village using a telescope he had just created using his technomancy abilities. He signalled to his steam drones to advance, and only to attack if attacked first. He wanted prisoners, not cadavers.

As they approached the steam drones readied their weapons. The dark-skinned tribes-people saw them coming and panicked. The children and women ran inside the huts and the rest stood back. The chieftain stepped forwards.

"Who are you?" he asked in crude English (or whatever the language we've been using all this time is), "This is our land."

"Not any more!" Detuiron threatened, "I am Detuiron, the Technomancer. Surrender your people or suffer the consequences!"

"We do not take orders from foreign man! Go away," the chieftain retorted.

"Fair enough," Detuiron said, before his arm glowed with those silicon-rune-style lines and an automatic pistol materialised in his hands. He aimed and released fire. The chieftain tried to dodge, but was mowed down by a whole clip of bullets.

"Who's next? Or are you giving up now?" Detuiron taunted.

One brave warrior picked up his spear and hurled it towards Detuiron. He dodged and formed something over his hand. It caught the spear and and swallowed it. It transformed into a large crossbow and it shot the warrior through the chest.

With the resistance gone, the steam drones chained up the remaining villagers and lugged them back to the dungeon and surrounds, where they were forced to labour in the mines.

((Units: 30 Imps; 10 Steam Drones; 15 Human Slaves))
((Resources: Silicon (minuscule); Iron (little); Coal (little); Gunpowder (very little); Copper (very little); Misc (some)))

I am BBeast, who is a male. Everything looks better when you turn up the Graphic Detail. Supported threads.
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eLEMenTaL7


MouthBreather

Joined: 08/01/2010 12:29:08
Messages: 635
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The Imps had finally, under Gorsik's instruction, finished the Dungeon Heart. At the back of the room was a massive throne, made of jet-black onyx and obsidian, with a bit of granite. It was adorned with diamonds, rubies, and countless other precious gems the Imps had unearthed while tunneling in the mountain.

"You have done well, my minions. You may rest for a short time, but soon I will need you to begin constructing a Treasury and a Storage Area." Gorsik said, his voice sounding very deep, making a strange sound that reminded the Imps of an avalanche. While tunneling through the mountain, the Imps had found countless ores and precious gems, but having nowhere to store them, they had all been piled up outside the mountain, at the Dungeon Entrance. Gorsik had a feeling that if he didn't hide them soon, he would attract unwanted attention.

Gorsik, being a stone giant, had had hundreds of years to practice his magic, and as a result, was as good at Earth magic as the best Human wizards there were. He converted the walls and ceiling into jet-black onyx, and another strange substance, which gave off an eerie purple glow that lit the room. He also made a path of gold from the Dungeon Heart entrance to his throne, to add some style.

Gorsik imbued his throne with a portion of his power before resting on it. To his surprise, when he did so, he felt a hundred times more powerful, and could see the entire Dungeon. He then realized that by building a Dungeon Heart, he had transformed from a might Earth Giant into an even more powerful Dungeon Keeper.

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 03/31/2011 20:00:35


It's not easy being a super-evil robot with the task of exterminating all organic lifeforms.
Trust me, it's just not what it's hyped up to be. I mean, it can cause some really bad moments when I'm trying to be diplomatic and I'm like "Can I borrow your tank? Oh, and sorry for killing your mate...and your pets...and your, um, offspring." Usually after that it's just awkward silence. Don't click here!











Phoden


Civilized Sporeon

Joined: 11/20/2010 22:08:03
Messages: 2858
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Evil resserected

Carmina rege was reaching out in his mind to seek and make the blueprint. A thick lether skin, hornes, claws.

It was a long time ago since he had created this creation , he would need to rebuild all his creations, but thinking , concentrations, it began to form.


The Imps where digging out collapsed caves and began expanding it a bit more.

The imps where talking to eachoter.
Gimp said "I like it to have a new keeper, but I have served many keepers but this is the keeper whose dungeon gives me the creeps."

Gomp replied "I know what you mean, the statues here I have the feeling they stare at me, and we have begun digging out a part where there are many of the same kind of statues."

Suddenly voices where heared outside the underground dungeon. It sounded like some Human wizzards with some helpers.

Gomp said "Oh, no ! What must we do. And we can't interupt the master."

Grimp said "Wait, look there digging out on the other side of here. If we stop digging they will do the work and they will be delayed."

Gromp said "That is incredible, We'll just sit back and let them do the job"


Meanwhile

The wizzard said to his helpers.

"We go on an great expedittion, I have found an map in the magic tower of the stronghold of the Vindicaitors, It tells of an old keep with fable magical treasure in it."

One of the helpers said "I don't like going under ground, the stories tell about evil beasts living here under rule of an kee.."

"Silence, said the wizard, those are just stories to scare litttle children, This is not of some devil, this is made from an ancient civlizatioon dating back to 400 to 500 years. It looks amazing If I find anything the Vindicaitors will know"

The wizzard went on and said "But that is for later, begin digging!"

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 04/02/2011 17:01:19






lOOK at my epic people map.
BBeast


Civilized Sporeon

Joined: 01/01/2009 23:38:03
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When Detuiron and the slaves returned 5 more steam drones had been made. He summoned 5 more imps and set them to work on constructing some wind pumps to draw water from beneath the ground to the surface. If they were lucky they might even strike oil or natural gas.

After a while one of the slaves nervously approach Detuiron, who was currently overseeing the construction of the pumps.

"Um, excuse me," the person asked hesitantly.

"What?" Detuiron asked.

Seeing that the Keeper wasn't in a bad mood, he gained a little courage, "We don't have food. We are hungry."

The Technomancer cursed at his own lack of foresight. He thought for a little bit, then came up with a solution. Apparently the tribes-people knew nothing of how agriculture works. But a few imps did. So he sent them off to find an edible plant or so that could be planted.

Meanwhile, two steam drones with guns were sent out to go hunting. Although the steam drones weren't the best for combat or delicate tasks, they were very good at load-bearing activities. Those included mining and lugging something heavy, like a bundle of fresh animal carcasses.

A woman from the captured tribe cooked the animals while a few of the imps attempted to figure out how to farm wild yams.

((Units: 35 Imps; 10 Steam Drones (2 sword, 3 gun, 10 mine); 15 Human Slaves))
((Resources: Silicon (minuscule); Iron (little); Coal (little); Gunpowder (very little); Copper (very little); Lithium (minuscule); Misc (some)))

I am BBeast, who is a male. Everything looks better when you turn up the Graphic Detail. Supported threads.
[WWW]
unit111


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The sands shifted across the roasting dunes, the sun beat down upon bleached bones, the wind rattled among the pebbles and broken stone. The desert was a vast, harsh and unforgiving place, the residents hardy and totally committed to defending their homelands. Across the endless dune sea however a story was told, a story of horror; unbelievable in breadth as it was in depth. It told the tale of a mighty civilisation, brought to its knees and off a terror that had one name: Shral’nok.
It had one meaning and one meaning alone; Final Storm. In all the historical texts to be found in the desert a recurring cycle could be found, a mighty human civilisation would rise through trade and conquest, taming the desert to serve it but from the depths of the impassable Dune Sea a wind would come, signalling the end of a glorious era. And always followed by that wind was a mighty storm which was brief and intense, wiping out almost all traces of the civilisation’s glory before vanishing not to return till a new civilisation began to climb the final hike towards its apex, which it would never reach. But it was there that the texts diverged, they never agreed on what that storm was or what it where exactly it originated from in the Dune Sea. Some said it was a demon from the borderlands, others said it was an ancient and forgotten god from beneath the very bedrock itself, all agreed it was a destructive force and when it would come.

But for once, one unique time, all of them were wrong, the time had come too early or too late. Shral’nok was returning and the wind was blowing…


The sun hammered down upon the ruins, mere bones of a once mighty city. Its rays were like a blowtorch, toasting anything that remaining in their visage too long. A gentle breeze stirred the sands of the surrounding dunes and seemed to sing a faint and mournful song in the remnants of a round room, half covered with sand, most of the walls were gone and a slight dip in the centre, it was almost like it was built for a sort of “Tower Heart” but then this deep into the Dune Sea there was no one to say what it might be, no one survived the trek if they attempted it, the heat, the distances and the violent sandstorms, near the border, made sure no one survived.
A small humanoid lizard flitted from shadows to shadows; it was short compared to a human and had two frills on the side of its bony and spiny head, the frills regulated heat effectively. As time passed more of the lizards, imps, gathered to the Tower Heart, remaining in the shade in an attempt to hide from the late noon heat. They did nothing but simply waited, the wind of finality would bring the sign that this was the time, it had blown early in this age, or had it? There was a sudden powerful gust towards the end of midday sand was whipped suddenly around the ruined room, set slightly lower than the surrounding dunes and ruins, the imps closed their eyes to protect them and when the wind settled back into a breeze they opened their eyes, there before them stood their keeper who looked like this. He was clad in sandy brown scales, blending in with the surrounding dunes yet his irises were crimson red and seemed deep and ancient, and equally red war paint decorated complex swirls around his head and he clasped his ancient weapons casually. The imps spoke in unison to each other as he surveyed his lost city, “The Wind has brought its message! The time has come! The End is nigh!”.

“Rebuild the Keep. There is much to be done here.” The keeper, Shral’nok, said. He had been at his greatest during his brief time in the Fourth Age and he planned to be greater, yet again he had outlasted his enemies, if in a slightly unconventional manner. He stepped out of the indent and swept away the sand from beneath one of the shorter walls as the imps scurried around clearing out the sand and disappearing off into the surroundings to obtain new stone, inside he found a ruby the size of his fist and he placed it reverently in the middle of his Tower Heart, it glowed once more and rose up to his eye level. The time had indeed come and he would need some soldiers once more. As some imps cleared out one of the smaller Life Pools, which had long dried up and filled with sand Shral’nok gazed into his Dungeon/Tower Heart and formulated his first creation, they looked like the imps but were taller very slightly and would be armed with short javelins or composite bows.
“Griks…” he growled, “Return from whence you went…”

The time had come, Shral’nok the Final Storm, Keeper and Guardian of the Desert had returned once more to unleash his legions upon the world and to keep pure the ancient Dune Sea…

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 04/01/2011 16:31:38


Phoden


Civilized Sporeon

Joined: 11/20/2010 22:08:03
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The First creation


Carmina rege had created his creature , the Horned demon, he now turned his attention to the dungeon, to his great suprise hee found a wizzard and some helpers, who had cleared just what he needed, He went out his dungeon hart but took the form of a horned demon. He thab spoke to his imps and other demon.
"Imps take positions to close the chambers where the Wizzard and his helpers are, you demon you will go around to scare them in the chambers, let's begin, And don't Fail me!"

The Wizzard was talking to his helpers
"Wow, Look at this, it is amazing. Just look at this , I f I show this mayby I can enter the order."

A loud grwoling was heared at the end of the hall.
The Wizzard and helpers stepped back. But they heared a growling behind them.

A Helper screamed " Run, Hide in these rooms ,where gona die"
They all ran in other directions they hid in the rooms.
The Wizzard raised his staf and waits for the beast.
" Come here monster of hell, I will destrroy you and the Vindicaitors will come here and kill you wretched beasts"


The imps came down and closed the doors, The helpers where scarred as hell, as he came closer to the Wizzard he took an other form, Turning into this http://www.google.be/imgres?imgurl=http://www.maps4heroes.com/heroes5/pictures/tribes_of_the_east/alternate_upgrades/toe_inferno_Arch_Demon.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.maps4heroes.com/heroes5/toe_inferno_alternate_upgrades_eng.php&usg=__u9EDsMpBjmVU9OfAviLRjy5nI9k=&h=338&w=250&sz=31&hl=nl&start=0&zoom=1&tbnid=x7Nvex2D3SxpZM:&tbnh=114&tbnw=84&ei=LQmWTZjVIM-SOpKxkZ0H&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dhomm%2B5%2Barch%2Bdemon%26um%3D1%26hl%3Dnl%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:nl:official%26biw%3D1280%26bih%3D526%26tbs%3Disch:1&um=1&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=237&oei=LQmWTZjVIM-SOpKxkZ0H&page=1&ndsp=26&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0&tx=37&ty=32.

Thee Wizzard was know crapping his pants.
The Keeper said "Who do you mean, who are the Vindicaitors , SPEAK KNOW MORTAL or die."

The Wizzard said "They are a might knight orderr, who fight evil like you!"

Carmina rege said "Well ,look here . See the rooms where your men are chapterd in.

The wizzard said "yes"

Carmina rege replied "These are rooms where the fire , lava, and darrk magic comes together to mkae my horned demons"

The Wizzard cowerd in fear and said "What happens if a human is in there while that happens?"

Carmina rege said " The proces speedens but there body mutate, so by now your 14 followers are know, my minions"

The doors opend and horned demons came out.
Carmina rege said "My beasts , you don't neeed food. But taste your taste for blood on this old man"
He broke the staf and went back to his dungeon hart.

The wizzard was ripped appart by the horned demons.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 04/01/2011 17:37:27






lOOK at my epic people map.
cavalier639


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Joined: 04/03/2009 21:16:39
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As his imps toiled away underground, mining and building, Escre watched silently. Its thirst was not satisfied. More information needed to be known, especially about any other Keepers. Escre wasn't sure if any others had even surfaced, but there was always the chance. The same primeval stirring that had awakened the Ethereal Keeper could have let others surface. There was little chance that Escre would enter battle without first knowing everything about its foes.

So thinking, Escre shifted forms into that of an black human , shrouded by robes and adorned with glossy, spiky armor. Escre called it Sceptrum, which is ruler. This shape it, now he, had conceived on his own. There were little uses for so direct a form, other than to exert domination and authority under those he conquered. Vype rushed to her master, awaiting orders. Without warning, Escre placed both of its hands on the Foreimp's shoulders forcefully. Her form began to darken and morph, and was wreathed in smoky light. When the odd ambiance faded, Vype was different. Her wings were gone, her toes and fingers were replaced by talons, and her eyes were almost twice as large, unblinking, and black. Her horns were also longer, hooked, and deadlier. Sceptrum's voice was unusual, as though it was spoken through a throttled animal of some sort. "You are now a Shade Imp, one of my spies. You may become invisible in any shadow, and once you are given a blade it will whistle through the dark as a bringer of death. Touch another imp and they will become as you. You are now Vype, the Mistress of Informers. Go." Vype, filled with astonishment and a powerful drive, left.

Despite its imps now doubling as spies, Sceptrum was still not convinced. He gave the command for several imps to begin working on a Forge, where blades could be made. They were not yet Shade Imps; clearly Vype had not yet spread the empowerment around. Sceptrum shifted forms to Escre, who floated out of the dungeon under a cloak on invisibility. Its aim: to confirm his suspicions of other Keepers' current existence.
eLEMenTaL7


MouthBreather

Joined: 08/01/2010 12:29:08
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The Imps had now finished digging out a huge, but rather plain room that would serve as a Storage Area for any metals or other precious resources that they may obtain, and a more elegant, but slightly smaller room with pillars and symbols carved on the walls, that would serve as a Treasury, to store gold, gems, and more precious items. Under Gorsik's command, the Imps had moved the huge piles of metal they had excavated by tunneling into the Storage Area, and the few bits of gold and gems into the Treasury. They had left the plain granite and other rocks outside the Dungeon Entrance for now.

Gorsik, knowing they were almost defenseless now, ordered the imps to begin constructing a small room with two Portal Frames in it. Gorsik decided that he would summon more Imps from the first portal once it was built, but didn't know what to do with the second. Then it hit him like a rock-by having a Dungeon Heart and now being a Dungeon Keeper, he should be powerful enough to create his own creature! He put a magical barrier at the Throne Room's entrance to ensure he would not be disturbed, then got to work. Gorsik decided to start with something simple, like a miniature version of himself, without the ability to use magic.

He started to imagine the figure...His body made of pure granite, his eyes giant rubies, a heart of jet-black onyx, and a brain of quartz. It would stand about six and half feet tall, with incredible strength. It would not be the smartest of creatures, but it would be intelligent enough to understand orders, and speak simple sentences.

This message was edited 3 times. Last update was at 04/01/2011 22:15:57


It's not easy being a super-evil robot with the task of exterminating all organic lifeforms.
Trust me, it's just not what it's hyped up to be. I mean, it can cause some really bad moments when I'm trying to be diplomatic and I'm like "Can I borrow your tank? Oh, and sorry for killing your mate...and your pets...and your, um, offspring." Usually after that it's just awkward silence. Don't click here!











unit111


Civilized Sporeon

Joined: 07/28/2009 19:34:23
Messages: 2404
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Shral’nok “awakened” or more simply opened his eyes and began to see the immediate physical world more clearly. The breeze had settled down into the stifling stillness of the air, the sun was setting on the western horizon, noon had long gone, most of the afternoon had been taken up in his re-calling of his first loyalists, his numerous scouts and operators. Most Keepers created initial minions which had less intelligence than a common rock, Shral’nok as Guardian of the Desert needed something more crafty and naturally whatever he personally made could never utilise magic or indeed even think about affecting it. While his first minions, the Griks were intelligent, enough so that they could operate machinery, control mounts, use and maintain mechanisms they were weaker; skirmishers and scouts. They couldn’t stand up to even a common militia man in a one on one fight, they needed tactics, numbers and other more sinister advantages. Never the less, Shral’nok had a use for everything.

He looked around, the Tower heart had been completed and completely roofed, four torches sat in small alcoves in the four compass directions, Shral’nok didn’t bother wondering where his imps had obtained torches this early on, they would never tell him and he hadn’t the time to pin one to the wall and carefully pry the information from one. The reconstruction of the surrounding structure of the keep was well under way, the sandy blocks belied their true strength not being sandstone but appearing as such. They were very uniform as well, his imps hadn’t forgotten the way he liked things built; strong, very defensive and regular in decoration. The decoration for now consisted of torches at regular intervals, most were unlit and would remain so for some time most likely, the resources were stretched thin at the moment, unlike during the Fourth Age which for now was always going to be infinitely better, except that blasted Keeper Alliance; something he had never encountered before, Keepers working together when they had so little in common and not even the same goals.

He trod down the corridor listening to the imps building above and around, working carefully but feverishly to get the strong central keep finished; which when done would be the mainstay construction which would be the core of his new citadel. He turned again and there it was, his memory served him well and as did his imps, the small spawning pool of the Griks, well smaller than the others which hadn’t been completed. The pool was filled with a dark, silky liquid which was completely motionless, he glanced at the surrounding walls; they remained undecorated except for the yellow-orange glow of the flickering torches, his imps would later on decorate the walls with the victories or general great tales of the Griks to serve as an example to young Griks later on. He stared at the pool, it was slower than he remembered. Then they began to emerge from its depths, they appeared like the imps except larger, the size of a human child of around eleven years of age, so small. The room erupted with the quiet sounds of the first, gasping breaths of newly birthed Griks. They dragged themselves up the steps which led out of the pool and towards the door, rivulets in the floor guided the fluid which dripped or poured off them back into the pool to conserve fluid and prevent mess and stains; clever imps. The Griks looked around and saw the small javelins lining the walls, they hurried over and grasped them before returning to form up into four lines of five before the comparable towering height of their master, “We are ready to serve Keeper!” they chanted in unison.
“Good. Welcome back to Outremar. Go outside and upon the dunes you shall begin your first training exercise in the light of the falling sun.”
“Yes Keeper. As you will it!”

Desert Forces:
Imps: 30
Spear Griks: 20

cavalier639


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In relative terms, Escre ambled. Of course, flying invisibly wasn't quite ambling, but its slow and methodical way of moving about the territory surrounding its dungeon brought the word to mind. Over sun-swept plains, shallow ponds, blighted meadows, and sparse forests Escre went. Nothing suggested the presence of a Keeper-- though Escre knew well that magic and cunning on Keepers' levels could completely conceal a dungeon from the wandering eye. However, in his intangible form Escre had no eyes; rather, a scoping presence that gathered information from all directions. Despite its advantages, it saw nothing.

At length, Escre arrived at a desert. No desire was there in the Ethereal Keeper to wander through the endless wastes, so it turned around. In the next area was a standard village, a few of which Escre had already seen. It was pointless to examine them further. After more searching, Escre came upon an expansive settlement. It so happened that this was the city from which Escre had stolen tomes, and the Keeper didn't forget the town's atmosphere. Silently Escre descended and took the form of a random child strolling through the ground. Nobody noticed the new boy in the crowd, who innocently wandered through clusters of people and market stands. Julian, the boy, increased his pace after a period of blending with the crowd. No-one had the faintest idea that behind the young mask lay the power of a Dungeon Keeper.

Julian entered another region of the town. Within minutes, something of interest turned up. A group of men were swapping stories, though the main storyteller was commonly teased by his friends. The man seemed to believe that ancient myths were true, and that everyone was in a great doom, and that he'd stop at nothing to prove Keepers' existence. This seemed to make young Julian solemn, and he followed the lanky storyteller home once he had learned enough.

The storyteller, who was called Evan Irtine, was suspicious, as those who aren't honest themselves are apt to be, when the young boy approached. His belief in conspiracy was so strong that it made him paranoid. What suspicion the man felt was instantly erased as the boy raised his arms and silently stared into Evan's eyes. For him, the world seemed to stop. Suddenly, Evan's belly swelled, his auburn hair became longer, stringy, and brown, and his nose became thicker. His teeth and fingernails became stained yellow, and his clothes became loose rags as his girth burst them partially. Rather than a respectable citizen, Evan now looked like a half-mad, overweight tramp. Julian smiled at the dumbfounded man and left.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 04/02/2011 02:30:44

brokndremes


MouthBreather

Joined: 11/28/2008 19:56:35
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Alfred walked, shoulders slumped, along the banks of the Green River. He walked along the bank of its dark brown waters until the sounds of his village could no longer be heard, and sat down on a large rock with a sigh. Life hadn't been going to well for him recently. After the latest accidents, they'd probably hang him. He nervously fingered the small pistol he had stolen. Rolled it over in his hands. His life was over anyways, and he figured a bullet would be better than the gallows, and far less humiliating. Apprehensive, he placed the barrel on his head, and slowly began to squeeze the trigger, pushing it close to firing..... But he couldn't do it. Couldn't follow through with taking his own life. He threw the weapon towards the river in anger, then looked in surprise as it hit with an unnatural clang. Curious, and forgetting his misery for the moment, he walked over to investigate. There was an odd colored metal stuck in the ground, which looked like a mixture of silver, gold and... something else. With his limited knowledge of geology, he couldn't identify it, but it looked valuable. 'This could be the solution to all my problems....' He thought to himself optimistically. The money would at least pay off his debts, which would land him prison instead of death. He furiously began digging around the object with his hands, cutting them occasionally in his furious digging. He soon had the item mostly uncovered, and extracted from the bloody earth. The treasure was obviously a box of some sort, though Alfred could find no way to open it. He turned the odd device over and pulled on one side. Nothing. He tried another, and another, yet both got no reaction. Annoyed he laid his bloody hand on the strange storage device and sighed. There was something inside, it was far to light to not be hollow and he swore he had heard something bouncing around inside of it while he had been extracting it. He looked down at the box once more and jumped up with a yelp. Odd patterns now glowed in the strange ores. Alfred backed away slowly from the obviously magical device towards the pistol.

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Shadar Haran woke. His mind began to come to life once more. His prison had been activated once more. He would soon be free again. He felt the distinct feelings of returning to the physical world, the tugging at his very essence to return. The world came into its surreal light once more. A man like figure stood in front of the box. Dressed in black chain armor, he could almost be mistaken for human at a glance. Closer inspection however would reveal unnaturally pale white skin. A look at Shadar's face would reveal the true difference. Where there should be eyes, there was simply nothing. An unnatural blank smooth skin where an essential human feature should have resided. Shadar turned to the human. "I thank you for freeing me, human." He said in a sandpaper voice, directing his eyeless gaze towards the terrified villager. "I apologize for the inconvenience this may cause you, however I have no choice." At the end of the sentence, Shadar smoothly drew his long thin blade and left the stunned criminal with no more troubles. He looked at the device the man had held pointed towards him, and pocketed it. He then proceeded to don the mans clothes, being sure to hide his unnatural features so as to make it possible to travel human roads safely. As he did this, he idly wondered what had change since his last brief respite from imprisonment. Inside the stasis box, time did not pass. He looked fondly at the device. It had saved him many times, kept him alive while many seemingly immortal masters perished. He went to the man and soaked a strip of cloth in his blood. Shadar used the blood to trace runes on the box, after which it shrank. Smiling to himself, he threw the hood of his cloak over his head and walked down the road in search of new employment, pocketing the dice sized refuge.


OOC: In case I didnt make it clear, I intend to be a rogue construct.

unit111


Civilized Sporeon

Joined: 07/28/2009 19:34:23
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The wind rattled through the small Oasis town, it swept through the narrow streets in between the squat white houses, it tugged on shutters and clawed at the cloth roofs of bazaar stalls abandoned to the night, in the distance the origin of the wind howled across the borderlands, the edge of the Dune Sea was blanketed by the flesh rending sandstorm, no one doubted that this night was going to be restless and no one doubted that the town would survive. The town would survive and its historical texts, the most important objects in the town itself, would continue to grow and be filled with meaningless things. There was something odd in the towns texts though, a message of three demons and their armies who marched upon the Dune Sea, three demons who met the sandstorm and barely triumphed by fighting together, three demons who never returned from the depths of the Dune Sea; the place where the Final Storm started…

In the depths of the Dune Sea the construction work on Shral’nok’s keep was coming on, the reality was though only one Life Pool had been rebuilt and the rest of the rooms were either Guard Rooms, storage lockers or small training rooms. The armoury on the first floor had been completed, the rest of the first floor was still being built, the ground floor however had been completed, which meant the first Grik barracks was complete which meant he could call up more Griks, which was good though the more he had, the more he wondered what he was going to do with them. At the moment he was too weak to risk traversing beyond the Dune Sea, something that even when he was strong would take weeks to do. Until he regained the lost technology he had once fielded in battle he was also wide open to Keepers with aggressive magic; something which had always perturbed him.

The darkness lay gently and yet firmly on the Dune Sea, it was only broken by the light from the torches the imps had placed on their construction zone on the half-completed first floor of the Keep. Griks armed with javelins patrolled the corridors and the construction site while several stood guard over the barbican gate entrance to the Keep itself, though the upper half of the gate was still being constructed along with the first floor. Other Griks trained in small group skirmishing tactics, throwing javelins in waves, performing small encirclements on test dummies and practicing close range combat and tactics against another Grik skirmish group. Things were well under way but it would be some time before the Keeper of the Desert was ready to begin his conquest.

Desert Forces:
Imps: 30
Spear Griks: 50

 
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