Temporal Happenstance: Adventures In the Cergroi Throng
A man stood still amidst a rolling fog, his pale flesh shimmering against the darkened horizon behind him. He slowly lifted his arms outward, a long cape cascading upon his sides as his gloved hands arose. Streams of thin white stretched up from his elevating fingertips, mist arcing into the air around his elegant form. His black overcoat was buttoned in two places over his abdomen, a white dress shirt shining nearly as brilliantly as his own milky flesh. The ruffled collar shifted as his head lifted, a wide smile forming upon his thin visage. A pair of thick fangs became quickly prominent between his thin lips.
“Come hither mine young ilk. This, our eve of the howling moon, guides us upon our haunted journey. For here,” he swung to his left with his arm fully extended. He gasped sharply when his unseen legs bumped into one another, sending his entire form falling forward to disappear into the heavy fog. He was silent for several seconds, save for an occasional grunt or groan. “Dammit, someone get me out of this crap!”
“Cut!” A deep voice bellowed before a loud bell rang for three seconds. A loud rumble began to rise as multiple people walked forward into the fog. Two began helping up the pale man that fell while the rest began touching at his attire and pulling out thick pads of powder to apply over his face in areas where his real skin tone was showing. “Harry, really, you gotta stop tripping over yourself here. We’re two”
“Two days behind schedule, I know!” Harry exclaimed as he squinted and frowned at the hands invading his personal space. “Maybe I wouldn’t be stepping on this long-ass cape all the time if I could see my fucking feet!” He loudly replied, glaring to the side at the man standing behind a bulky machine that was rolling a thick mist over the floor.
The director just stroked his hand over his face, then turned to the tech. “Hey, Jack, mind just thinning the fog for this shoot so Harry can see his own feet?” He asked, watching his ‘star’ grin arrogantly, likely forgoing the tone the director had used to instead gloat that he was getting his way, yet again. Jack sighed and rolled his eyes before reaching behind the machine. The old girl began to whir and hum crankily as the fans inside started to wind down much faster than they should have. Soon enough, the fog completely stopped rolling out, leaving only a small flicker of light deep inside the extended vent that protruded from the relic.
Harry grumbled at the sight of the old machine, once again, malfunctioning. He quickly undid the clasps under his cape that kept it fastened to his thick coat. “I swear, do I have to do everything for you, you idiot?!” Harry stomped over to Jack’s fog machine, glaring at the vent pointed toward him. He kneeled down and smacked the side of the vent, causing something small to rattle around inside. He missed the small flicker of light within the vent when Jack started to yell at him. “Oh, shut the fuck up! I wouldn’t have to be doing this if you did your job right…” He barely caught a glimpse of yet another flicker as the soft rattling settled down. “The…hell? I think something fell in…” The actor foolishly reached in, which made Jack nearly jump out of his boots.
“Let me turn the thing off, you fruity psycho!” Jack yelled as he quickly reached down and unplugged the machine.
Harry glared up at the technician, his fingers inside the vent extending out. “Psycho?! Funny, coming from the skinny fuck that was too stupid to know how to give a proper blo…” Harry’s eyes turned as the hairs on the back of his neck started to rise. He felt the air around his hand cool and heard a soft hum, instinctively trying to pull his hand back with the tiny object he’d grasped. It took his impetuous mind a couple of seconds before he realized the fans couldn’t activate with the machine unplugged. He looked down, finally noticing beams of light rising out from between his fingers.
Harry fell over onto his back as he began to cream, his thick helmet falling into the red and black dirt. “SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITT!!” He screamed out, his right hand clutching at his freshly made left stump. His eyes went wide as he looked over toward the smoking hole in the trench where he’d just tried to toss a live grenade. “Fucker blew off my arm!” He exclaimed as he kicked into the dirt, explosions ringing throughout the air as a young medic rushed over, nearly tripping over himself while trying to stay low and avoid stray bullets. He unknowingly kicked at a tiny gem that was laying beside his CO, quickly slamming his aid kit down to open it up.
The gem rolled over the burnt and unsettled dirt before brushing the finger of a dead soldier in burnt and torn fatigues. The twitch of his finger and a slow groan came shortly as he began coming back to life from his momentary excursion from life. He stirred and looked down, seeing the two-foot hole in his chest begin to fill and the visage of a black tuxedo hung over his form for a moment. He could’ve sworn he saw the ground turn white and that there had been a woman in an elegant gown standing over him, but he found himself rather busy dying once more. His hand fell back to the ground, hitting the gem and haphazardly slapping it into the air. It flew easily into the air for a short distance, beginning to come down toward a young man laying in the trench, firing his rifle into the burning forest ahead of his platoon. He stopped upon feeling something hit his helmet and roll down his shoulder. Feeling it had been too small and jagged to be a grenade, he looked down to his right, reaching to the small, dirtied rock without a care…
“A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history.”
The year is 2364 by the present solar calendar. The game begins just as the characters: from a humble origin on a day of celebration for the entire world, where various people from all creeds gather with families and friends. The characters are all normal... Average people of modest skills, set along a road with a clear and simple path. But something soon arises. A terrible event ignites a journey for salvation and redemption as a group of would-be heroes struggle to uncover the truth of their intervened fates. Who would alter such ordinary lives, and why would they go to such extremes to remain unreachable by their young foes?
Tiria: Worldly setting. Very few continents retain any barren regions as advancements in ecological engineering have been tested and perfected so as to introduce adaptive vegetation to otherwise lifeless environments. Urban locations -- cities, towns -- and forested regions are the norm for the planet, with only one remaining desert region in the southern hemisphere, and the iced regions in the north and south-most points on the planet. Nine continents, fourteen archipelagoes, eight divisions of the World Ocean, and eleven countries.
Think it's enough without making the post too large. Anyway, character abilities and locations will be updated as the game progresses and information is gathered. If it weren't obvious, some of this early setting is quite similar to another subject. Largely because I had the poor judgement to play the games in the series while thinking up the plot...