At Shadow's Gate - Printable Version +- Discovery Gaming Community (https://discoverygc.com/forums) +-- Forum: Role-Playing (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=9) +--- Forum: Stories and Biographies (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=56) +--- Thread: At Shadow's Gate (/showthread.php?tid=13672)

At Shadow's Gate - TDLdark - 11-11-2008 [font=Arial Black]Introduction - Part I [font=Fixedsys]Space....beautiful pitch black space... It was here that he felt at home. He wrapped himself in the darkness, willing it inside of him, taking warmth in it's cold embrace. *Beep* Stricken out of his thinking, he stared at the display panel of his ship. Two hostiles inbound? Excellent.... He checked his systems, all clear, and turned his ship, moving towards to two objects. As he moved into sight he saw them, two smugglers, one fighter escort and one pirate transport. He smiled...Outcasts were so naive. Opening up his comms panel he hailed them. The two smugglers, happy to see that it wasn't a Liberty police ship, hailed back, happy that their crates of cardamine had made it to their destination. "Mind dropping the drugs Outcast?" The two smugglers stared in disbelief and asked the man why a pirate would pirate another fellow pirate. At this, the man scoffed, and turned his ship around, and boosted the engines. Suddenly, he released the energy and thrusted forward quickly, opening fire with his weaponry. The escort stood no chance. Before it could even move, it's shields were down and hulls damaged by a missile. It hastily pulled up, trying to dodge it's way out of the battle...only to collide head on with a nuclear mine. As the boom from the explosion reverberated, the mysterious man turned his ship on the transport, and in two quick passes, stripped the transport of it's shields. He then turned, firing salvo after salve into the bridge of the ship until - "Stop! God damn you stop! I give! I give! Take the damn Cardamine!" "I changed my mind. You're going to bring it somewhere for me." "What? But you never asked that -" The pulse of lasers interrupted his statement and quickly eroded away the recovering shields, blasting off a turret. "Ok! Ok! Give me the coordinates you backstabber." The chilling voice thundered over the comms channel, stating the coordinates. The sound of keys being pressed and the computer chirping back played softly in the background. "Are you insane? That's Manhattan! And you didn't give the right coordinates! The docking ring is on the other side of the planet." "Shut up and accept this data transfer." The file quickly transferred and the tall imposing man could not resist a girlish giggle. "I'm not opening it." The laser salvos quickly persuaded him differently. "What is this crap? It's just a bunch of useless files I can't use. What's the point of these files?" "It's a virus." "What?! Why!? You're already turning me into the authorities, now you ruin my computer system?" "Who said I was turning you into the authorities...." "What? What are you -" The man let out a laugh, unable to restrain it anymore. The comms channel had went dead on the smuggler's end. From his ship, he watched as the transport powered up it's cruise engines, heading for a collision course for a weak spot of Manhattan. He smirked knowing the smuggler was probably wondering how that virus had shut off manual control and activated auto pilot. He reminded himself that he should upgrade the coding of the virus sometime so that the coordinates did not need to be manually imputed before having the virus take control. He saw a flash from the transport and knew instinctively that the escape pod had been launched. He moved towards it, and as soon as he targeted it, he let loose a missile. Laughing once again, he turned back towards Rochester Base. He wondered to himself whether or not he would be lucky and the ship would actually crash on Manhattan, letting loose a torrent of deadly drugs. Chances were that it wouldn't, but he smiled knowing he tried. As his ship cruised towards the Junker base in the debris field, he settled back and grabbed a bag of his own cardamine, ready to replenish himself. At Shadow's Gate - TDLdark - 11-14-2008 Prologue - Part I [font=Fixedsys]The thick musk of men filled the air... [font=Times New Roman]And it disgusted the cloaked stranger who walked into the bar. He sat at the counter and ordered a refill for his flask. Expressing great dislike at the odor, the man snorted loudly, coughing most noticeably. Another man, clearly a Junker, sat down besides him and ordered several pints of beer. "What's yer story mate?" "I have no story." "Don't be a fool, everyone has a story, and it be clear by yer clothings that yer hav a interested tale." "I have no story." "Hey, tell yah what, tell yer story and you'll get a nice monuh bonus. Rich smuggler I am, got enough of the dough round." The cloaked man, his head shrouded in shadows, stood still for a while, before finally nodding his masked head. [font=Times New Roman]It began... Many years ago. I was a child on New Berlin, son to a Military pilot and his loving house wife. I was, as my mother always called me, an angel. I received good grades, not top of the class, but certainly enough to get myself into a good university. Alas, my heart however, lay out at space, at "daddy's" work place. I loved space, and of course, being the loving father he was, my father took me out in his gunboat from time to time. Once, I recall, he even brought me aboard a battleship. [font=Arial Black]798 A.S. Father came home that day in a fit of rage. Cold and stolid, with rage in his eyes, he dragged my mother off into the bedroom. Unfortunately for myself, he had forgotten to close the door the entire way, leaving a small crack for me to peek through. As I squatted there, watching and listening, one of the most harrowing events in my life took place. I heard my mother, worried, asking what was wrong, and my father shouting that indeed nothing was wrong. Arguing then commenced, frightful to my ears. I was only 11 at the time, but still the argument brought pain to my ears and tears to my eyes. What followed next had scarred me for life. Staring through the crack, my mother had been forced onto the bed, and my father sat on top of her, pulling off his belt. Then, a few moments later, with the tearing of clothing, I saw mother violated terribly. I was still only 11, but I knew what was happening. The horror of the event shocked me, and scared, I continued to watch, but no longer able to witness the horrid atrocities my father was committing. I crawled into my bed, hugging Mr. Wiggles, my bear, tightly.... I could still hear the screams of "No Ted! NOOOO" as my mother continued to be brutalized. I clamped the pillow over my head, scared, confused and bewildered. The next day, I awoke to the slamming of the front door. Peering out of my bedroom door, I saw that my father had just left, his shoes and jacket gone from the normal pedestal holding them. Remembering my mother's violation the previous night, I hastily ran into the master bedroom to survey what had happened. Mother lay still on the bed, a large red blot on the bed sheet covering her legs. I immediately ran to call the hospital, but to my dismay, both my mother's cell phone and the home phones had been smashed, broken to pieces. Ready to give up, I remembered my own cell phone, and running into my room, quickly removed it from my drawer and punched in the 3 digits. Relief flooded in as my mother's rescue arrived. That night, my father stormed into the house, enraged at what had occurred. He knew fully well what I had down. Charging into my room, he pulled out my new cell phone and amidst my pleas for him to stop, crushed it beneath my feet. Enraged, I flew at him, attempting to strike this new horror, but to my surprise, he quickly cuffed me across the face and threw me across the room, where I hit the floor hard. Angrily, he pounded his way towards my crying body, and twisting my arm behind my back he asked whether or not I would help mother again. Crying uncontrollably at the pain, I could not say a single word, and to this my father responded with a twist of my arm. Cracking loudly, pain burst into my elbow, and in the distance I could hear a horrible scream come from my mother. Choking out the words "no", I was finally freed, but no longer could I feel my arm. Again, my father dragged my mother, already wounded, back into the bedroom, stepping noisily over my prone body. Again was I forced to listen to my mother's screams as again she was violated brutally. This time, my cries of pains mingled with her's until, either from a loss of blood, or simple exhaustion, I fell asleep. In my dreams, I wondered what had happened to to good man I had considered my father. What had caused him to change so? I wondered, thinking, freed from my pains in the dream world. Only when exhaustion turned off the lights did I finally truly drift away. Tomorrow would only bring new horrors. At Shadow's Gate - TDLdark - 11-15-2008 [font=Arial Black]Prologue - Part II [font=Fixedsys]Filled with pain, anger, and torment... [font=Times New Roman]I awoke. Covered with dry caked blood and salty tears, I saw my father step over me. He picked up his coat and put on his shoes, before loudly slamming the door. For the moment, I lay on the floor, shuddering at tiny bursts of pain. Slowly, regaining strength, I got up to survey the damage...looking at my right arm. Doubling over again, I threw up on the floor, sickened by what I saw. I quickly shoved my arm behind my back, unable to look at the grotesque manner in which my poor arm had been mutilated. Even from my quick glance I had seen the horrid way in which my arm bent unnaturally backwards, shards of white erupting from the twisted elbow. Remembering my mother, I shoved aside my pains and quickly ran into my room, remembering to use my left hand instead of my lame right arm. She lay on the bed, unconscious, again a puddle of red on the sheets. However, this time, upon her face were numerous bruises, black and blue, blotting out her beautiful face. With all our phones destroyed, I rushed to the Barton's house, my neighbors, jamming my left finger into the doorbell. "Eh? Who's there?" "Mr. Barton! It's me! Aaron Eaton!" "Aaron? Good ta see you. Let me open this door. Martha?! Dear Aaron is here to see us. Ain't that nice?" The large opened, salvation behind it. "Good to see you Aar-AHHHH!!" "George? What's wrong? I'm coming. It something wrong with dear Aaron?" "My goodness, boy, what happened to you?" "Whatsamatter George, oh hi Aaron - OH MY GOODNESS." The jolly couple, no longer so jolly, stood at their door, staring at the wrecked piece of flesh that was Aaron Von Eaton. "Mister and Missus Barton! Please help me! Daddy is acting all weird and he did something very naughty to Mommy!" "Martha...go call the hospital and the police now. I will go check on Cynthia Eaton." "Oh my goodness, go, hurry, I'll get the police and a ambulance here immediately." Together we burst back into the Eaton household, and George Barton immediately pounded his way to the bedroom. Bursting through the door, he saw what had happened, and immediately pushed me out of the door, as if he was trying to protect me from something. He brought me to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, and after a quick rinse, began to evaluate my elbow before running back and grabbing a towel with some odd odor on it. I awoke with a start, finding myself in a strange world. Instead of my colorful house, I was in a white cell. A young woman with a white uniform, almost blending in with everything else, smiled and held me down. She explained how I had undergone surgery, how they had tried to save my arm. How it was already too badly damaged for far too long to have done anything. How the infections I got while laying down on the dirty floor had severely damaged it. How my mother was going to be alright. How my father was in jail. How...how....how... That night, I sat upright in my bed, examining my metal arm. It ran all the way up to my shoulder, which had to be partially replaced as well. Strangely, I felt no remorse for my natural arm. I practiced taking the arm apart and applying a synthetic skin like covering on. The arm looked like an natural arm with the synthetic skin on. It responded astoundingly fast to my natural desires. Marveling at the electronics of the arm, I examined it for an hour, before finally, exhausted, I turn in for the night, content that both my mother and I were safe. The two guards standing at the door smiled, bidding my a good rest and a safe day tomorrow. How I wish they were right.