Hey, I'm pretty new here, but I had an idea while playing the other day. Would anyone be interested in turning your experiences of playing Kenshi into short short stories?
For example, a lot of people did this with Skyrim:
http://kotaku.com/tag/true-tales-of-skyrim
I think it could be an interesting way to get more people to pay attention to the game. We just need a website/blog. If people are interested, I might try to set one up, including a rating system where people can thumbs up stories they enjoyed so that it's easier to find the stories that a lot of people like.
What do y'all think?
Kenshi Stories
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Zweihander
- Posts: 9
- Joined: Mon Mar 25, 2013 2:37 pm
Count me in.
*adjusts his glasses, and goes to write*
*adjusts his glasses, and goes to write*
When you give a game a chance, and discover a masterpiece.
So..... awesome!
/)^3^(\
So..... awesome!
/)^3^(\
There was an old thread about stories (even i put my glorious first taste of Kenshi in there).
http://www.lofigames.com/phpBB3/viewtop ... 2309#p2309
That may give you a basic amount of stories to start of, if you decide to put sth up.
http://www.lofigames.com/phpBB3/viewtop ... 2309#p2309
That may give you a basic amount of stories to start of, if you decide to put sth up.
You should always proofread carefully to make sure you didn't any words out.
Need help? pm me or any other mod.
There once was an ordinary merchant that traveled throughout the land, looking for a place to settle down with his newfound family. One day he and his caravan got lost looking for a town and ended up on a plateau. They ended up being ambushed by tribal bandits, being knocked out without a fight. When the merchant came to, he discovered in which his wife died in, and his small son lost his arm and leg.
The merchant then made it his mission to make sure this would never happen to another family again. He rounded up the survivors and told them to dig in the earth and begin mining to raise wealth. From the mine came a city, from the town came an army. He used his power to do great things, he drove the bandits away, demolished bandit towns, founded surrounding towns, and even created a currency that was adopted through all the land.
Except the great things that the merchant turned business owner did were not heroic. The bitter merchant took advantage of the profits from the work of his laborers. he drove the tribals away mercilessly, demolished tribal controlled towns, destroying whole families, rising over them new towns exclusively for his own people, and created his own currency that crippled tribal independence and beyond.
The old businessman, Gregory Cat, looks over his capital city, Catan, from his mansion, overseeing his Dead Cat mercenaries. His robotically limbed son is dissatisfied with the grievances Sir Cat has caused throughout the land. A pacifist in a land where fighting seems inevitable, he seeks to change the law of his troubled territory.
The merchant then made it his mission to make sure this would never happen to another family again. He rounded up the survivors and told them to dig in the earth and begin mining to raise wealth. From the mine came a city, from the town came an army. He used his power to do great things, he drove the bandits away, demolished bandit towns, founded surrounding towns, and even created a currency that was adopted through all the land.
Except the great things that the merchant turned business owner did were not heroic. The bitter merchant took advantage of the profits from the work of his laborers. he drove the tribals away mercilessly, demolished tribal controlled towns, destroying whole families, rising over them new towns exclusively for his own people, and created his own currency that crippled tribal independence and beyond.
The old businessman, Gregory Cat, looks over his capital city, Catan, from his mansion, overseeing his Dead Cat mercenaries. His robotically limbed son is dissatisfied with the grievances Sir Cat has caused throughout the land. A pacifist in a land where fighting seems inevitable, he seeks to change the law of his troubled territory.
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aManNamedJin
- Posts: 10
- Joined: Thu Mar 28, 2013 12:53 am
Nice! I'll look around for a potential website solution.
Does getting 300 hours of gametime when actually afk waiting for research to finish count? o wait, you guys wanted a story right? Gimme some time and inspiration and I will give you a half decent Kenshi fanfic... but as of now you get a short story based on what really happened.
There, the ten mighty warriors stood. They stood perfectly still as the voice of a god had instructed them to do. For 50 days and 50 night they didn't move a muscle. As the god deemed them worthy for showing this act of patience. As a reward he bestowed upon them legendary weapons capable of crushing mountains, slicing the air itself and hack at the very threads of fate. With these weapons of unimaginable power they could kill armies, raze cities at will, and perhaps even take control of the land and all its inhabitants to do their bidding. They would never again have to worry about anything the wasteland could throw at them.
There, the ten mighty warriors stood. They stood perfectly still as the voice of a god had instructed them to do. For 50 days and 50 night they didn't move a muscle. As the god deemed them worthy for showing this act of patience. As a reward he bestowed upon them legendary weapons capable of crushing mountains, slicing the air itself and hack at the very threads of fate. With these weapons of unimaginable power they could kill armies, raze cities at will, and perhaps even take control of the land and all its inhabitants to do their bidding. They would never again have to worry about anything the wasteland could throw at them.
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iSuck345
- Posts: 850
- Joined: Sun Sep 23, 2012 3:03 pm
- Location: Why wold you want to know where a 14-year old lives? O.O
Once upon a time, there was a heretic. He was hunted by the Holy Empire like all of his brethen, the United Cities used his brothers as the target of humiliation and sometimes as pets. Bandits deemed them pitful slaves. Mercenaries called him a meatbag. He was done however, and he stole a sword, money and set off to hunt. He hunted for a week in the mountains with only his sword, until he heard the sound of an army marching. It was the Holy Empire, wanting to expand into the mountains and found a fortress. He ran, and his gods cursed him with a bloodlust. Surely he wold die as he wold most likely atack the first person he saw, but he grew to be a hardened warrior. The gods, noticing this, decided to play with him and made him loose most of his sanity. He wold proceed to loot many trade caravans and loot equipment. His body wold detoriate into a state beyond recognition. When his brothers found him, he was no longer human: he was an abomination, a "gift from the gods" they said, and they used his insanity to control him. He and his brothers wold slaughter an entire town. The gods, seeing potential in the poor mutant, decided to test him: they made him wait 100 days and nights and he did so. They made him not eat or drink for a week, and he survived. They bringed back his sanity and ordered him to kill his brothers, he didn't even flinch. They had deemed him worthy, and gave him what was problably the biggest curse: they transformed his arms into "living metal", as well as his skeleton that had nerves, they further disfigured him and gave worse mutations.
He wold be the first champion of the gods. He recruited the rest of the remaining faithfull, and went foward to his next target, the capital of the United Cities. There, he took over and converted the entire settlement by taking MOST of the sanity of the people and the mercenaries, and the gods, to keep a leash on him and control him, made him be only half sane, but still be smart. The place was made into a LIVING HELL: cultists made sacrifices, orgies, raped, reproduced without control, wold fight each other, some constantly schemed and manipulated both for and not for their own good and sometimes harmed themselves on purpose, some became a little deformed, there was a stench that was unbearable, demons that were bloodthirsty and had a lust for both battle and excess were summoned, buildings were degraded to a state that was impossible for them to keep standing and all laws of both physics, magnetism and life and any others were defied by the dark powers. The gods entered into a disagreement, and they were divided: 4vs23. The town was the battleground, and the 4 survived. The land was scorched, the farms destroyed, the mines collapsed and other champions had risen. The First Champion, whose name is only known in indestructible books depicting his tale, gained the lust for battle of a demon and the strength and had a stench that wold choke people and vomited ACID.
He wold lead the cultists into 13 black crusades, that had 2 objectives: spread the faith of the dark gods and weaken it's enemies. When the 7th came, the last words before the last battle were "remember the last 13?", followed by a laugh of everyone at the camp. If he knew he wold die that day, his wolds wold have been different. He was slaying by the "Hero of the Empire", known as Ulfric Hogjarl. However, this is simply a legend, since it was before crossbows came and some things before the invention of crossbows and press are pretty fascinating like this but completely ridiculous at the same time and fake.
Also, the gods made a new enemy unit that was made out of people that deserved it because they were so bad, even a cultist wold beat them: the Chaos Spawn... shit I said it's name? Oh no no NOASDMAASFDMASFBBALWSDBLSADKWASBDLASDBASWDLBASWBDL.
He wold be the first champion of the gods. He recruited the rest of the remaining faithfull, and went foward to his next target, the capital of the United Cities. There, he took over and converted the entire settlement by taking MOST of the sanity of the people and the mercenaries, and the gods, to keep a leash on him and control him, made him be only half sane, but still be smart. The place was made into a LIVING HELL: cultists made sacrifices, orgies, raped, reproduced without control, wold fight each other, some constantly schemed and manipulated both for and not for their own good and sometimes harmed themselves on purpose, some became a little deformed, there was a stench that was unbearable, demons that were bloodthirsty and had a lust for both battle and excess were summoned, buildings were degraded to a state that was impossible for them to keep standing and all laws of both physics, magnetism and life and any others were defied by the dark powers. The gods entered into a disagreement, and they were divided: 4vs23. The town was the battleground, and the 4 survived. The land was scorched, the farms destroyed, the mines collapsed and other champions had risen. The First Champion, whose name is only known in indestructible books depicting his tale, gained the lust for battle of a demon and the strength and had a stench that wold choke people and vomited ACID.
He wold lead the cultists into 13 black crusades, that had 2 objectives: spread the faith of the dark gods and weaken it's enemies. When the 7th came, the last words before the last battle were "remember the last 13?", followed by a laugh of everyone at the camp. If he knew he wold die that day, his wolds wold have been different. He was slaying by the "Hero of the Empire", known as Ulfric Hogjarl. However, this is simply a legend, since it was before crossbows came and some things before the invention of crossbows and press are pretty fascinating like this but completely ridiculous at the same time and fake.
Also, the gods made a new enemy unit that was made out of people that deserved it because they were so bad, even a cultist wold beat them: the Chaos Spawn... shit I said it's name? Oh no no NOASDMAASFDMASFBBALWSDBLSADKWASBDLASDBASWDLBASWBDL.
"Religion is regarded by the common people as true, by the wise as false, and by rulers as useful."
Anonymous
http://cdn0.meme.li/instances/300x300/39130542.jpg
Anonymous
http://cdn0.meme.li/instances/300x300/39130542.jpg
22nd day in the month of sprouts:
So, I lost my job today. Keeping shop for old Ott wasn't going to buy me the biggest house in Catan, but I wasn't starving, either. I should've kept my mouth shut. My mother always told me, if I'd been born a mute, I'd never get in any trouble at all.
He was a stickler for organization, everything in its place. Fair enough. The part that irked me was his baleful glare any time he figured I hadn't put things quite the way they needed to be, which was always. And he'd always give you that gimlet eye for a full ten seconds before he'd say a word.
I put those carpenter's tools on the middle shelf by the door, the first thing you see when you walk in the shop. Brink always has builders passing through, folks trying to make a go of it out in the wastes with a little homestead. I even arranged them all nice and neat, with the littler tools like the finishing hammer and the nail header on the left, and the splitting mauls and such on the right.
Of course it wasn't good enough. Nothing ever was for that old goat. So he gives me that same crusty look, and I told him if he'd just spit out however it was he wanted it arranged, I could get to it that much faster. That made him turn so red, I thought he'd have an apoplexy on the spot. Poor luck for me, he didn't, but he did tell me if I ever set foot in his shop again, he'd make sure I didn't leave without a hammer in my teeth.
So, I find myself without a roof again. I think I'll talk to Cobb about finding some work. He owes me a favor, and I heard he has a decent gig with the trader's guild these days. Trekking across the desert isn't my favorite pasttime, but I'm short on choices.
So, I lost my job today. Keeping shop for old Ott wasn't going to buy me the biggest house in Catan, but I wasn't starving, either. I should've kept my mouth shut. My mother always told me, if I'd been born a mute, I'd never get in any trouble at all.
He was a stickler for organization, everything in its place. Fair enough. The part that irked me was his baleful glare any time he figured I hadn't put things quite the way they needed to be, which was always. And he'd always give you that gimlet eye for a full ten seconds before he'd say a word.
I put those carpenter's tools on the middle shelf by the door, the first thing you see when you walk in the shop. Brink always has builders passing through, folks trying to make a go of it out in the wastes with a little homestead. I even arranged them all nice and neat, with the littler tools like the finishing hammer and the nail header on the left, and the splitting mauls and such on the right.
Of course it wasn't good enough. Nothing ever was for that old goat. So he gives me that same crusty look, and I told him if he'd just spit out however it was he wanted it arranged, I could get to it that much faster. That made him turn so red, I thought he'd have an apoplexy on the spot. Poor luck for me, he didn't, but he did tell me if I ever set foot in his shop again, he'd make sure I didn't leave without a hammer in my teeth.
So, I find myself without a roof again. I think I'll talk to Cobb about finding some work. He owes me a favor, and I heard he has a decent gig with the trader's guild these days. Trekking across the desert isn't my favorite pasttime, but I'm short on choices.
Once upon a time, somewhere in the Holy Empire...
"Fuumin, you have to leave now!" My father says, "they are coming to get you, flee towards the city of Catan, you'll have a chance at a future there"
"Listen to your father, Fuumin, and you be careful in the wastelands, and hide from the bandits and sand ninja's."
I tell my mom I can take care of myself, promising to return when I'm too old for conscription.
My dad hands me the sword that belonged to my grandfather and says: "It might look rusty, son, but it keeps a wicked edge, it was forged by the real Old Eye, back in the days when your grandfather was a captain in the army, and all Old Eye had was a little shop in Black Scratch"
"Now run, Fuumin!" My mother cries out, "go to Catan and look for a man they call "Old Soldier", he is your grandfathers little brother, he might give you shelter and help you find a job."
I tell them goodbye, shake my fathers hand, give my mom a hug. As I get ready to jump through the window, someone bangs at the door, and shouts: "Holy Empire conscription officer Wu here, open up, we have come to get Fuumin, he is old enough to join the army now!"
I jump outside, on to the roof of a shed next door, then lower myself down to the ground. As I get up to run I hear shouting, and I hear my mother screaming.
Bastards, they probably killed my father for aiding in my escape. For a moment I fight the urge to turn around and run back, but I realize I would only get killed and my father will have died for nothing, and on top of that they might kill my mother too. Now they will let her live, so they can stake out our home in the hope I will come back for her. "Our home..." Well, it's not my home anymore.
And these Empire bastards, they'll get what's coming to them.
The Empire wasn't always this bad. Back in the day, when my grandfather was still a young man, the Lord Superior, Master Hong, was a young and idealistic man. He took care of the high unemployment rates by conscripting men into his army, and taking care of the rebels roaming the Empire. After a few years of fighting, the Empire was once again safe to travel and trade came back and with the trade came jobs and the Empire prospered. 30 years of peace and prosperity followed, until 15 years ago everything changed when Master Hong died.
Since the Lord Superior never had any sons, there was no one to succeed him, but there where men with enough ambition to try.
Eventually after a few weeks of bloody struggle between the different factions, one man was victorious.
This man was called Lord Orisama, the most senior intelligence officer under Master Hong's command, and he was a ruthless man. The night that the other factions surrendered to him, he invited all their officers and leaders for the signing off a peace treaty. After signing the treaty they sat down to eat and drink together, and the next day they where all found dead in their beds, including my grandfather, who was one of the officers for a faction fighting to keep the Empire the way it was.
Ever since Lord Orisama is Lord Superior, life has been hell in the Empire. Many stories are told about his Secret Police, who torture anyone they get their hands on, not necessarily for information, but just because they enjoy it...
You always have to be careful of what you say because his spies are everywhere. Brothers betray their brothers, sons betray their fathers, but not my family, we still believe and live the old Way, the Way Master Hong set out for his people, the Way of Peace and Prosperity.
So, you see, it's worth traveling the wastelands to Catan, since the Empire has become just as dangerous. So long as I avoid the big cities I should be safe enough, and I can always get supplies at a trading post...
might continue...
"Fuumin, you have to leave now!" My father says, "they are coming to get you, flee towards the city of Catan, you'll have a chance at a future there"
"Listen to your father, Fuumin, and you be careful in the wastelands, and hide from the bandits and sand ninja's."
I tell my mom I can take care of myself, promising to return when I'm too old for conscription.
My dad hands me the sword that belonged to my grandfather and says: "It might look rusty, son, but it keeps a wicked edge, it was forged by the real Old Eye, back in the days when your grandfather was a captain in the army, and all Old Eye had was a little shop in Black Scratch"
"Now run, Fuumin!" My mother cries out, "go to Catan and look for a man they call "Old Soldier", he is your grandfathers little brother, he might give you shelter and help you find a job."
I tell them goodbye, shake my fathers hand, give my mom a hug. As I get ready to jump through the window, someone bangs at the door, and shouts: "Holy Empire conscription officer Wu here, open up, we have come to get Fuumin, he is old enough to join the army now!"
I jump outside, on to the roof of a shed next door, then lower myself down to the ground. As I get up to run I hear shouting, and I hear my mother screaming.
Bastards, they probably killed my father for aiding in my escape. For a moment I fight the urge to turn around and run back, but I realize I would only get killed and my father will have died for nothing, and on top of that they might kill my mother too. Now they will let her live, so they can stake out our home in the hope I will come back for her. "Our home..." Well, it's not my home anymore.
And these Empire bastards, they'll get what's coming to them.
The Empire wasn't always this bad. Back in the day, when my grandfather was still a young man, the Lord Superior, Master Hong, was a young and idealistic man. He took care of the high unemployment rates by conscripting men into his army, and taking care of the rebels roaming the Empire. After a few years of fighting, the Empire was once again safe to travel and trade came back and with the trade came jobs and the Empire prospered. 30 years of peace and prosperity followed, until 15 years ago everything changed when Master Hong died.
Since the Lord Superior never had any sons, there was no one to succeed him, but there where men with enough ambition to try.
Eventually after a few weeks of bloody struggle between the different factions, one man was victorious.
This man was called Lord Orisama, the most senior intelligence officer under Master Hong's command, and he was a ruthless man. The night that the other factions surrendered to him, he invited all their officers and leaders for the signing off a peace treaty. After signing the treaty they sat down to eat and drink together, and the next day they where all found dead in their beds, including my grandfather, who was one of the officers for a faction fighting to keep the Empire the way it was.
Ever since Lord Orisama is Lord Superior, life has been hell in the Empire. Many stories are told about his Secret Police, who torture anyone they get their hands on, not necessarily for information, but just because they enjoy it...
You always have to be careful of what you say because his spies are everywhere. Brothers betray their brothers, sons betray their fathers, but not my family, we still believe and live the old Way, the Way Master Hong set out for his people, the Way of Peace and Prosperity.
So, you see, it's worth traveling the wastelands to Catan, since the Empire has become just as dangerous. So long as I avoid the big cities I should be safe enough, and I can always get supplies at a trading post...
might continue...
Fuumin's story continues...
...As I run away, my mothers screaming is cut off abruptly. No... Please no... Silence fills the night, all is quiet but a buzzing sound in my ear. I moan as I feel my insides turn upside down, tears welling up in my eyes. Everything in my life that had meaning to me has been taken from this world in the space of a few breaths. As I stand there, dumbstruck by what just happened, I hear shouts coming my way.
Shit, I've got to get out of here...
I start running towards the city's western wall, knowing that I can get over by climbing the "Tower of Swords", the local sword shop, and then jump down on the wall and find a place where the wall is missing a few stones. My father told me about this route, said it had been used to avoid detection for years by drug mules. I had asked him how he knew, and he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and told me it didn't matter how he knew, it mattered only that he knew now. He said he would tell me later when I would come back home from Catan. I guess that I'll never know...
As I get to the tower I see all is still quiet here. I start climbing the outside of the tower up to a little window about two-thirds of the way up. As I hang off the windowsill, I pull myself up to have a look inside. The room is lit by some light coming from the hall beyond. As I have a look around the sparsely furnished room, I spot a bag on the table. I look at the bag for a second or two, then quickly climb inside to grab it. As I move towards the table I can hear someone coming up the stairs. I go for the bag and quickly walk back to the window.
Climbing out of the window, I hear a man say: "Show me the room, civilian! So I can be sure you're not hiding the fugitive!" "Y-Y-Yes sir!" someone stutters, "t-t-this w-way sir!"
OK, time to get the hell out of here, away from this town, my old life and my parents.
My father and mother where brutally murdered, and I will make sure their deaths will have meaning, that I will be the one to bring down Lord Orisama and take his head.
There and then, hanging on to life by my fingertips, I vow that if I survive this night and live to the next dawn, that I will destroy the Orisama Clan and end this reign of terror. I will succeed or die trying.
I hope for the best as I put my feet flat against the tower's wall and take the leap...
...As I run away, my mothers screaming is cut off abruptly. No... Please no... Silence fills the night, all is quiet but a buzzing sound in my ear. I moan as I feel my insides turn upside down, tears welling up in my eyes. Everything in my life that had meaning to me has been taken from this world in the space of a few breaths. As I stand there, dumbstruck by what just happened, I hear shouts coming my way.
Shit, I've got to get out of here...
I start running towards the city's western wall, knowing that I can get over by climbing the "Tower of Swords", the local sword shop, and then jump down on the wall and find a place where the wall is missing a few stones. My father told me about this route, said it had been used to avoid detection for years by drug mules. I had asked him how he knew, and he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and told me it didn't matter how he knew, it mattered only that he knew now. He said he would tell me later when I would come back home from Catan. I guess that I'll never know...
As I get to the tower I see all is still quiet here. I start climbing the outside of the tower up to a little window about two-thirds of the way up. As I hang off the windowsill, I pull myself up to have a look inside. The room is lit by some light coming from the hall beyond. As I have a look around the sparsely furnished room, I spot a bag on the table. I look at the bag for a second or two, then quickly climb inside to grab it. As I move towards the table I can hear someone coming up the stairs. I go for the bag and quickly walk back to the window.
Climbing out of the window, I hear a man say: "Show me the room, civilian! So I can be sure you're not hiding the fugitive!" "Y-Y-Yes sir!" someone stutters, "t-t-this w-way sir!"
OK, time to get the hell out of here, away from this town, my old life and my parents.
My father and mother where brutally murdered, and I will make sure their deaths will have meaning, that I will be the one to bring down Lord Orisama and take his head.
There and then, hanging on to life by my fingertips, I vow that if I survive this night and live to the next dawn, that I will destroy the Orisama Clan and end this reign of terror. I will succeed or die trying.
I hope for the best as I put my feet flat against the tower's wall and take the leap...
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iSuck345
- Posts: 850
- Joined: Sun Sep 23, 2012 3:03 pm
- Location: Why wold you want to know where a 14-year old lives? O.O
I'll make a second story, coming from the story of the champion
...but the gods were not satisfied. No, the Large metropolis with graves and bodies and slaughter and other terrifying things no man or demon could have ever made wasn't enough. They left it, the strange phenomenons stopped, everything was back to normal. The United Cities spotted this, rumor got to all around the world, and everyone attacked. The huge city was sacked, razed and slaughtered to every single last icon, every last building and every last man and woman... save for the sleeping people. They lived underground. When they woke and got up, they saw the horror. They pleaded to their gods, and nothing... up in the sky, was the big game: all souls had gone to the Red Sky and were fighting for their gods, they had turned against each other. However their power was fading again and they knew they had to go back to his servant, but the Great Game wasn't over. When they had enough servants and were strong again, the listeners, they who could resist powerful drugs required to listen the gods, carried the message: fight for their patron god, and suspect of those who are of their religion but don't worship their patron god.
They fought against each other many times. The others noticed this and attacked, for the cultists had lost their champions and demons... but not their mutations. Many had changed in the way they looked and they used bionics extensively, to a point they were robots themselves. They rebuilt their city, for they were tired of living in the wasteland encampments, and offered everyone a chance to join them. Listeners don't carry new anymore, and the cult grows worried. In the end, many war bands were formed, each having a different patron god.
They pillage, they plunder, they slaughter, they raze village and citadel alike, but they are sneaky and careful, and are only a shadow of their former strength. They play a rather noticeable role in the criminal business, and the metropolis still stands... making everyone shiver when they pass by, and they can only pass by at about 30m, because they could be spotted and be killed by the harpoons or charged at, unless they wold carry the religion's banner.
Ulfric Hogjarl's son, Al-Hajr Hogjarl, a man educated in a different culture, founded a group called the crime watch, their motto being "Impiorum erunt convertentur", which meant "The wicked shall fall". They followed a religion that was not of the Holy Empire and were despised because of that. However the members' zeal surpasses even of the most loyal servants and the emperor himself. Everything looked good until they started suffering different mutations and started using the same tactics of the cult. They declared official war upon each other and made damage to everyone: they made villages loose their harvesting fields, they engaged ANYONE who wasn't on their side, they raided anyone who had resources for their "Great Crusades" and it just went on. The land was terrified, like if the dictatorship of the Holy Empire wasn't enough. People think that the conscription has no purpose, but it's most likely because of the Crusader Wars, the current war going on, which has caused entire families being slaughtered.
...but the gods were not satisfied. No, the Large metropolis with graves and bodies and slaughter and other terrifying things no man or demon could have ever made wasn't enough. They left it, the strange phenomenons stopped, everything was back to normal. The United Cities spotted this, rumor got to all around the world, and everyone attacked. The huge city was sacked, razed and slaughtered to every single last icon, every last building and every last man and woman... save for the sleeping people. They lived underground. When they woke and got up, they saw the horror. They pleaded to their gods, and nothing... up in the sky, was the big game: all souls had gone to the Red Sky and were fighting for their gods, they had turned against each other. However their power was fading again and they knew they had to go back to his servant, but the Great Game wasn't over. When they had enough servants and were strong again, the listeners, they who could resist powerful drugs required to listen the gods, carried the message: fight for their patron god, and suspect of those who are of their religion but don't worship their patron god.
They fought against each other many times. The others noticed this and attacked, for the cultists had lost their champions and demons... but not their mutations. Many had changed in the way they looked and they used bionics extensively, to a point they were robots themselves. They rebuilt their city, for they were tired of living in the wasteland encampments, and offered everyone a chance to join them. Listeners don't carry new anymore, and the cult grows worried. In the end, many war bands were formed, each having a different patron god.
They pillage, they plunder, they slaughter, they raze village and citadel alike, but they are sneaky and careful, and are only a shadow of their former strength. They play a rather noticeable role in the criminal business, and the metropolis still stands... making everyone shiver when they pass by, and they can only pass by at about 30m, because they could be spotted and be killed by the harpoons or charged at, unless they wold carry the religion's banner.
Ulfric Hogjarl's son, Al-Hajr Hogjarl, a man educated in a different culture, founded a group called the crime watch, their motto being "Impiorum erunt convertentur", which meant "The wicked shall fall". They followed a religion that was not of the Holy Empire and were despised because of that. However the members' zeal surpasses even of the most loyal servants and the emperor himself. Everything looked good until they started suffering different mutations and started using the same tactics of the cult. They declared official war upon each other and made damage to everyone: they made villages loose their harvesting fields, they engaged ANYONE who wasn't on their side, they raided anyone who had resources for their "Great Crusades" and it just went on. The land was terrified, like if the dictatorship of the Holy Empire wasn't enough. People think that the conscription has no purpose, but it's most likely because of the Crusader Wars, the current war going on, which has caused entire families being slaughtered.
"Religion is regarded by the common people as true, by the wise as false, and by rulers as useful."
Anonymous
http://cdn0.meme.li/instances/300x300/39130542.jpg
Anonymous
http://cdn0.meme.li/instances/300x300/39130542.jpg
[It's been a while, but after restarting on Rock Bottom, I figured my new character, Sorcha, deserved to have her story told.]
The sun stabbed mercilessly at my eyes, even behind closed lids. My head hurt, my mouth tasted like sand that had been filtered through an old sweaty boot, my hands were numb, and my left arm had the sort of shooting pain that one often associates with having it hacked at by a rusty cleaver. Specifically, a cleaver wielded by a deranged, human-flesh-eating denizen of the wastes who has about as much finesse as he does adherence to hygiene.
Cannibals. I remembered getting nabbed just fine, though a few discomforts on the lineup were more hazy. I had made myself unwelcome in Eyesocket (again), so I figured a timely relocation to Trader's Edge might be just the thing. I had a few friends in Trader's Edge; well, maybe not friends, but people who didn't draw blades when I entered the room, anyway, which was good enough for the time being.
I'd been about an hour into my trip when I saw shapes on the horizon. Best case scenario, that meant people who didn't want me dead, and worst case, people who did, so I decided hiding was the smart course. I found a little ravine to take shelter in, figuring that was a good place to wait for the distant squad to pass.
That must've been what the cannibals figured, too. I almost stepped on the first one, a runty little fella with teeth sharpened to points. He saw me and made a grab for me, which I cut short by putting my fist to his nose. His head snapped back, and I turned and ran. Right into Pointy Teeth's much bigger and more intimidating cousin.
I'd like to tell you that I was overwhelmed by dozens of the blighters, that I laid waste to their ranks in a battle that will be told in song for ages to come. You'd never buy that crap, though, so I'll just come out and say it: one short chop to my throat from Big Cuz took all the fight out of me, and in pretty short order I found myself naked and tied up, which was a lot less fun this time around than the last time I remembered.
Pointy Teeth told the others to keep me quiet, and went to keep an eye on the passing squad. His little band of ten or so culinarily-challenged cohorts gathered around, looking about as scared as I felt. When the murderous savages who have you listed as tonight's entree look terrified, it makes a gal a little pensive, to say the least.
After a few tense minutes, Pointy Teeth came back. "They're past. We'll wait for a little while, then backtrack a ways, just in case, and then get this 'un back to base."
I'm not real trusting of strangers, as a rule. I don't rely on their kindness, for damned sure. But, at that moment, I knew whoever that patrol was, they had these people eaters running scared. They had neglected to gag me in their pre-dinner preparations, and I knew the time wasn't going to get better.
"HEEEEEEELP! OVER HERE! CANNIBALS!"
The cannibals froze. Pointy Teeth came unstuck first, drawing a cleaver that looked like it'd been ancient and rusty in my granddad's time. He brought the butt end down on my head, making the world a whole lot spinnier.
After that, I remember falling down, and a whole lot of shouting. Some infernal clanking, like someone throwing pots and pans down a hill. Me trying to crawl away, and ending up with an ugly gash up my arm for my trouble. And samurai, chasing the cannibals away. I wasn't in a state of mind to say for sure, but I don't think one of the samurai ever gave me a sidelong glance. Obviously they had bigger fish to fry.
So, after baking in the sun for a while, waiting to be able to turn my head without wanting to throw up, I decided that getting out of the bonds was Step One. One sharp rock, two numb hands, an arm on fire, and a whole lot of curses later, it was time for Step Two: Walking naked, injured, and pretty pissed off the rest of the way to Trader's Edge.
The sun stabbed mercilessly at my eyes, even behind closed lids. My head hurt, my mouth tasted like sand that had been filtered through an old sweaty boot, my hands were numb, and my left arm had the sort of shooting pain that one often associates with having it hacked at by a rusty cleaver. Specifically, a cleaver wielded by a deranged, human-flesh-eating denizen of the wastes who has about as much finesse as he does adherence to hygiene.
Cannibals. I remembered getting nabbed just fine, though a few discomforts on the lineup were more hazy. I had made myself unwelcome in Eyesocket (again), so I figured a timely relocation to Trader's Edge might be just the thing. I had a few friends in Trader's Edge; well, maybe not friends, but people who didn't draw blades when I entered the room, anyway, which was good enough for the time being.
I'd been about an hour into my trip when I saw shapes on the horizon. Best case scenario, that meant people who didn't want me dead, and worst case, people who did, so I decided hiding was the smart course. I found a little ravine to take shelter in, figuring that was a good place to wait for the distant squad to pass.
That must've been what the cannibals figured, too. I almost stepped on the first one, a runty little fella with teeth sharpened to points. He saw me and made a grab for me, which I cut short by putting my fist to his nose. His head snapped back, and I turned and ran. Right into Pointy Teeth's much bigger and more intimidating cousin.
I'd like to tell you that I was overwhelmed by dozens of the blighters, that I laid waste to their ranks in a battle that will be told in song for ages to come. You'd never buy that crap, though, so I'll just come out and say it: one short chop to my throat from Big Cuz took all the fight out of me, and in pretty short order I found myself naked and tied up, which was a lot less fun this time around than the last time I remembered.
Pointy Teeth told the others to keep me quiet, and went to keep an eye on the passing squad. His little band of ten or so culinarily-challenged cohorts gathered around, looking about as scared as I felt. When the murderous savages who have you listed as tonight's entree look terrified, it makes a gal a little pensive, to say the least.
After a few tense minutes, Pointy Teeth came back. "They're past. We'll wait for a little while, then backtrack a ways, just in case, and then get this 'un back to base."
I'm not real trusting of strangers, as a rule. I don't rely on their kindness, for damned sure. But, at that moment, I knew whoever that patrol was, they had these people eaters running scared. They had neglected to gag me in their pre-dinner preparations, and I knew the time wasn't going to get better.
"HEEEEEEELP! OVER HERE! CANNIBALS!"
The cannibals froze. Pointy Teeth came unstuck first, drawing a cleaver that looked like it'd been ancient and rusty in my granddad's time. He brought the butt end down on my head, making the world a whole lot spinnier.
After that, I remember falling down, and a whole lot of shouting. Some infernal clanking, like someone throwing pots and pans down a hill. Me trying to crawl away, and ending up with an ugly gash up my arm for my trouble. And samurai, chasing the cannibals away. I wasn't in a state of mind to say for sure, but I don't think one of the samurai ever gave me a sidelong glance. Obviously they had bigger fish to fry.
So, after baking in the sun for a while, waiting to be able to turn my head without wanting to throw up, I decided that getting out of the bonds was Step One. One sharp rock, two numb hands, an arm on fire, and a whole lot of curses later, it was time for Step Two: Walking naked, injured, and pretty pissed off the rest of the way to Trader's Edge.
I've already started on this. Here's Grit, a fairly long and still unfinished story. http://falling-cow.deviantart.com/art/G ... -414498409
I have plans to move onto another three Kenshi stories. These will be called: Dust, Sand & Wind.
I have plans to move onto another three Kenshi stories. These will be called: Dust, Sand & Wind.
I do words. Some of them are Kenshi fanfic.
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