Well, I've been playing the game again and I thought I'd start writing a little story focusing around the plot. It's got some minor changes, and it's only the very, very beginning. I'd like to write more, but I've got the SaiyanPrideXIX match I'm writing aswell.
Without further ado, here you go. The introduction...
--------------
Pain. That's all he could feel. Pain. He awoke among scattered debris, flames everywhere. The ground was harsh, cold, and damp. It seemed as though his body was feeling inverse effects; cold and wet from the ground, yet hot and dry from the flames. It felt like hell.
The man rolled over onto his back, a packet falling from his dirty pants. It was leather and felt expensive. He raised it to his eyes and looked inside. A smiling man was seen stitched into the front cover with the initials J.F.R. What did they mean? He continued to look around inside the packet, finding only paper money and a collection of weird miniatures. They were all broken, though.
He sat up and looked around, noticing the huge wreckage of an airship of some sort and another man squirming next to him. âDear boy, please... please come here.â A gnome..? He looked rather skinny and pale. âPlease... you must come here...â
The man crawled over to the gnome and offered his hand to help sit him up, which the gnome declined. âIt's too late for me, boy... But, I must get this to a man named Alfred Jaffenings, he must get this...â The gnome handed the man a silver ring with some faint writing on it, worn away by time. âPlease, please...â He coughed, weesing out the next few words, âPlease, boy... please...â The gnome let out one last cough, but didn't get his breath back and closed his eyes for the last time.
Before the survivor had a chance to fully get up, another man came running up from behind the wreckage. âAre you all right?!â He shouted, catching his breath. âI heard talking and a lot of coughing. I came as fast as I could.â
âI'm... fine,â The startled man said, still shaken a bit by the death of the stranger. âWho are you?â
âI'm Virgil, Virgil Tarrington. You are?â Virgil asked.
âI... I honestly don't kn...â
âWhat!â Virgil shouted, flabbergasted. âYou're Jameson Fredrick Rogers, aren't you?! I can't believe I'm meeting one of the Panarii council. It's an honor.â
Jameson scratched his head and looked back at his packet, staring at the J.F.R. initials. Virgil caught sight of the packet and laughed, âAha! I knew it! Here, step on up.â He extended his arm in a friendly way to help up Jameson.
Jameson stood up and gathered his posture, still unsure about the circumstances. âWho's your friend there?â asked Virgil, looking down at the dead gnome.
âI don't know. He gave me this ring,â Jameson holds it up. âHe told me to bring it to a man named Alfred Jaffenings. It's a shame I haven't an idea of who that is.â
âYes it is,â responded Virgil. He quickly smiled and looked Jameson in the eyes. âBut I do know of a place to find that out! The Office of Records in Tarant. It's a long ways from here, but I'd be glad to accompany you there. We could also meet the other Panarii, if you'd like to introduce m...â He stopped in his words, something sparked a memory. âI remember this from a book. It foretold a man whom would be 'the special one' reincarnated falling from the sky among fire. Are you... him?â
âI haven't a clue of what you're talking about. I'm having trouble remembering anything at the moment.â
âRight, well maybe we can get this sorted out soon.â Virgin said, sighing. âHm... Oh! I know. Someone in Shrouded Hills owes me a favor from a long time ago,â Virgil's eyes dim, his smile fades. âHe can help us out some, maybe even give us a little to eat.â
âSure,â Jameson said out of instinct, barely hearing that Virgil had said. âBefore we go, uhm, could you tell me where we are?â
âYou're in the mountains right above Shrouded Hills, no name really. And if you'd like a time, it's September 19, 1248. Is this all right?â Virgil asked amusedly.
âYes... it's fine.â Jameson responded sadly.
âDon't get worked up, we'll get to Shrouded Hills soon and you can get some good sleep and some warm food. Then we'll be on our way to find out about that person!â
âI guess you're right.â Jameson sighed out, rubbing his hair. He put the packet back in his pocket and started off with Virgil.
Without further ado, here you go. The introduction...
--------------
Pain. That's all he could feel. Pain. He awoke among scattered debris, flames everywhere. The ground was harsh, cold, and damp. It seemed as though his body was feeling inverse effects; cold and wet from the ground, yet hot and dry from the flames. It felt like hell.
The man rolled over onto his back, a packet falling from his dirty pants. It was leather and felt expensive. He raised it to his eyes and looked inside. A smiling man was seen stitched into the front cover with the initials J.F.R. What did they mean? He continued to look around inside the packet, finding only paper money and a collection of weird miniatures. They were all broken, though.
He sat up and looked around, noticing the huge wreckage of an airship of some sort and another man squirming next to him. âDear boy, please... please come here.â A gnome..? He looked rather skinny and pale. âPlease... you must come here...â
The man crawled over to the gnome and offered his hand to help sit him up, which the gnome declined. âIt's too late for me, boy... But, I must get this to a man named Alfred Jaffenings, he must get this...â The gnome handed the man a silver ring with some faint writing on it, worn away by time. âPlease, please...â He coughed, weesing out the next few words, âPlease, boy... please...â The gnome let out one last cough, but didn't get his breath back and closed his eyes for the last time.
Before the survivor had a chance to fully get up, another man came running up from behind the wreckage. âAre you all right?!â He shouted, catching his breath. âI heard talking and a lot of coughing. I came as fast as I could.â
âI'm... fine,â The startled man said, still shaken a bit by the death of the stranger. âWho are you?â
âI'm Virgil, Virgil Tarrington. You are?â Virgil asked.
âI... I honestly don't kn...â
âWhat!â Virgil shouted, flabbergasted. âYou're Jameson Fredrick Rogers, aren't you?! I can't believe I'm meeting one of the Panarii council. It's an honor.â
Jameson scratched his head and looked back at his packet, staring at the J.F.R. initials. Virgil caught sight of the packet and laughed, âAha! I knew it! Here, step on up.â He extended his arm in a friendly way to help up Jameson.
Jameson stood up and gathered his posture, still unsure about the circumstances. âWho's your friend there?â asked Virgil, looking down at the dead gnome.
âI don't know. He gave me this ring,â Jameson holds it up. âHe told me to bring it to a man named Alfred Jaffenings. It's a shame I haven't an idea of who that is.â
âYes it is,â responded Virgil. He quickly smiled and looked Jameson in the eyes. âBut I do know of a place to find that out! The Office of Records in Tarant. It's a long ways from here, but I'd be glad to accompany you there. We could also meet the other Panarii, if you'd like to introduce m...â He stopped in his words, something sparked a memory. âI remember this from a book. It foretold a man whom would be 'the special one' reincarnated falling from the sky among fire. Are you... him?â
âI haven't a clue of what you're talking about. I'm having trouble remembering anything at the moment.â
âRight, well maybe we can get this sorted out soon.â Virgin said, sighing. âHm... Oh! I know. Someone in Shrouded Hills owes me a favor from a long time ago,â Virgil's eyes dim, his smile fades. âHe can help us out some, maybe even give us a little to eat.â
âSure,â Jameson said out of instinct, barely hearing that Virgil had said. âBefore we go, uhm, could you tell me where we are?â
âYou're in the mountains right above Shrouded Hills, no name really. And if you'd like a time, it's September 19, 1248. Is this all right?â Virgil asked amusedly.
âYes... it's fine.â Jameson responded sadly.
âDon't get worked up, we'll get to Shrouded Hills soon and you can get some good sleep and some warm food. Then we'll be on our way to find out about that person!â
âI guess you're right.â Jameson sighed out, rubbing his hair. He put the packet back in his pocket and started off with Virgil.