Posted Feb 13 2012 - 11:53 AM
A silver crystal was held in the palm of a Toa. He frowned, glancing at the object he held in his crimson hand. It was a possession of one of the many now dead beings living in his city. No big surprise, Turaga always died first.
But despite of that, he still turned it on, knowing what he would see.
The Turaga was frail, his white armor faded and battered with age and weather, his staff crooked and scarred. The same went for his noble Ruru, although the ice blue eyes behind it still gleamed brightly.
The eyes themselves betrayed the Turaga's sense of fear.
"It has been two months since our colony was settled," he began, his voice low, obviously not wanting to alert any nearby enemy of his presence.
"We were peaceful folk, or just people wanting to get away from the world wide war between the Dark Hunters and Makuta. We fled to the deserted city of Metru Nui, hoping to flee the bloodshed, for many of us were getting caught in the crossfire. We settled the city, even though we had not expected to find it in ruins. The only inhabitants were Rahi, although some of us claimed to have found the remains of a camp in Le-Metru. But we were not disturbed by anything - as we quickly drove the Rahi off, and with our wide array of species, had no problem holding them there. It all changed over the past month. A horde of spiders came, their time bringing death, or worse. Their leader, a cold, ruthless, and even worse, a Makuta. His purpose was clear: To drive us out, and slay every last one of our settlement." He paused, catching his breath and listening to something unheard.
"I have but a moment. They have heard me. They will find me. I beg you, if you are reading this: Help us, for Mata Nui's sake!"
He tensed, looking nervously at the door, debating on whether or not to flee through it.
At last he made up his mind: bolting towards it, unlatching it, and stepping outside.
He breathed a sigh of relief, for the dark street was deserted, nothing moved except for an occasional strand of webbing. He stepped forwards as silently as possible, glancing around nervously.
Now a sound was heard, almost of something scuttling. The Turaga stepped backwards until he was against a wall, his staff held out in front of him, his Ruru activated.
There was a skitter from the left. You could see the staff shaking.
Then a black shape blocked the view, and only one sound was heard.
The Toa turned off the crystal, cutting the scream of agony off.
It is the year three post cataclysm, and the world looks dark, darker than ever before, save perhaps in the days of the Barraki. Mata Nui slumbers, the City of legends is a deserted ruins, the Brotherhood of Makuta has changed its role from the protector to the oppressor. Toa are vanishing, killed by Makuta or private assassins. Stelt is embroiled in a massive civil war, Zakaz’s population is leaking into other lands, bringing its barbarity with it. everywhere tyrants are springing up, governments rise and fall within months, and the economy is destroyed by war, and the loss of metro nui. Xia is keeping itself alive by selling weapons to both sides, and organizing an army with the money gained.
Maybe the world’s end has come, as many wild eyed matoran are claiming, but more than likely it will just get worse, not better.
Refugees are more common than ever; matoran, homes burned, oftentimes by the very people who they find themselves joining: bandits, murderers, outlaws, remnants of defeated armies. They are all heading for one place, the one place where there is no war, unless they make it themselves. Metru Nui, deserted since its fall to the Brotherhood of Makuta. Nothing could stop them, not any nations in their way, not closed sea gates. They blasted them down, surged through underground chutes, or any other form of entrance they could find. Metru nui soon became about a dozen different nations, all constantly quarreling and fighting. Rahi are a constant threat and dozens die in their first attacks. Nothing else alive is found, and life begins to settle down into a routine: fight off rahi, conquer any new territory you can lay your hands on, and generally live for nothing but war.
While not ideal, it was a higher standard of life for them than before.
That is, until the Makuta came on the scene.
Makuta Tridax, at the head of a small army of rahkshi, arrived on Metru Nui expecting to find a rahi infested city just waiting for him to occupy. Instead, his advance scouts had the bad luck of running into a group of Skakdi, and being promptly butchered, with only a rahkshi of teleportation escaping. Tridax landed at the great temple, butchering the small village of matoran there, and turned it into a fortress from which he slowly began to advance into Ga-Metru with. The settlers were disorganized, but fierce, and knew the terrain far better than the more organized Rahkshi. In a series of battles, the Ga Metru Vortixx wiped out almost half of Tridax’s Rahkshi forces in hit and run fights, and sent the rest right back to the Great Temple. Faced with a yearlong siege, Tridax decided to call for reinforcements: reinforcements in the form of a small horde of Visorak. They swamped half of Ga-Metru, killing or mutating most of its inhabitants and sending the rest fleeing for dear life.
Welcome to the City of the Dead, an RPG set in the post cataclysm world, on the island of Metru Nui. People of many species, and even more divers background have populated it, forming their own towns. Only the archives have never been explored: due to the massive amounts of rahi, no one goes near there if they can help it.
The Great Temple has been invaded and made into a massive fortress by Makuta Tridax, whose visorak armies have ravaged most of Ga-Metru and are spreading out to the rest of the island. Hordika roam Ga Metru and other districts, ill tempered, often insane. Running into one can give a varied result from being torn to shreds to being ignored.
If you’re a Refugee, your goal is to keep alive. Brotherhood forces will kill or mutate you on sight, and even your fellow settlers cannot be all trusted: rumor has got around that Tridax has decided to use some of his captured enemies as spies. After, that is, he’s completely wiped away their ability to rebel against him. These spies are hard to spot, as vanishing is an extremely common thing, with most forms of communication cut off, and as the visorak will kill them just as easily as settlers.
If you are a visorak, or any other Brotherhood force, well then, your job isn’t to stay alive; there’s always more troops to get, but to destroy the settlers, and take control of the city yourself.
-Matoran: The most peaceful, and therefore the most picked on, this faction lives in southern Ga Metru, where it is mostly extinct, and in northern Ta Metru. It is the most preyed upon by the visorak as it migrates rapidly into central Ta Metru. This faction is composed only of Matoran, Toa, and Turaga.
Half finished, but I think it's a good improvement over my last version of it. Thoughts?
There's a grief that can't be spoken, there's a pain goes on and on...
Empty chairs at empty tables, where my friends will meet no more...