The Chronicles of Th0r

The same story I posted on the Evony forums, but with a new chapter.

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Prologue: Dark Times

In the beginning, the kingdoms of Ithindril and Mukarh were peaceful for as long as anyone could remember, reveling in the peace of their co-existence. The Mukarhans inhabiting the cold winterlands of the north, whilst the Ithindrilae enjoyed the harvests of the south. Naturally, the Mukarhans ventured south en masse, tired of their young freezing to death every year.
Within a decade, however, the lands of the Ithindrilae were full to the bursting as people poured in from the north in their thousands, spreading into all corners of the kingdom until not a single pasture was left unbuilt on and not a single province untouched by deforestation. In Mukarh plagues deadlier than any before ripped the nation apart from the inside, forcing ever more to abandon their livelihoods and travel to the southern kingdoms. Open villages and towns dotted the region, each no more than league from each other, the space between was farmland-farmland where not a single crop dared to grow. Disease and famine spread like wildfire, consuming the known world in days.
It was then the real problems began.
The Ithindrilae requested that the Mukarhans move back into their lands, but the Mukarhans claimed their right to be there. Quickly things escalated and politics ceased to matter to either side. Within days an all-out war had broken out. Every community was shattered instantly. Each was mixed with those from both kingdoms, turning friends into enemies and allies into rivals. The pale skin of the Mukarhans became a curse to all who had it, and the tan of the Ithindrilae was nothing else. Violent bands of men and women formed formed and roamed aimlessly, looting what little was left of towns and killing all whoever they thought beneath them. Even as the population dwindled food was scarce, heatwaves left the world starving and without water to cool it's temper.

Then, in a second, the food was gone.
The chaos that followed made the famine look like child's play. But alas, this is not the story of the plight that followed, but of those who escaped it.

~~~

I stumbled again, falling flat onto hard, lifeless earth for the thirteenth time, barely wincing as pain rippled through my abdomen. The throbbing ache in my legs was as unforgiving and relentless as the red Sun, like a lead weight dragging me down into the depths of the Ocean. This time I didn't get up. I couldn't. I couldn't even lift my head to view the promising smudge on the horizon, framed by the empty, boundless blue sky and the dusty brownness of the Earth beneath me for the last time. I barely believed I had made it this far, though how far 'far' is in this endless wasteland defeats me... It was hardly the fairy tale land my father had once spoken of.
I had been searching for 'Haven' for... For I don't know how long... Too long... Only a fool could've done this...Only a fool.

I tried to spit into the sand in regret but even that failed as not a single drop of water remained in my mouth.

Haven was the prize of the Ithindrilae-An Atlantis. A paradise beyond the deep blue sea. A fairy tale. Being an effing idiot I believed it. I'd have believed anything that could've got me out of there... I even dragged my brother, Juran, into it as well. He died on the voyage, as did 49 other men. The pain of seeing him retch up seawater as gangrene consumed his body was too much to bear-I had tried to slit my own throat only to be restrained by the crew. My brother was a lucky one.
Another 341, were killed, ripped by leviathans tenfold the size of the ship we sailed on as we landed, thinking we had reached our goal. We were wrong. 109 died here, torn down by the ruthless beating of the sun, their bodies left behind me to be violated by carrion. Only there were no carrion here. There was no breeze. There was only an echo of sad mans regret booming across the empty lands.

That other 1, the last of the 500 crewmen of the Sunrise, was killed by his own foolishness.
499, killed by his dream. My dream.

~~~

Chapter I: No Escape

I opened my eyes, a surprise in itself, to a wonder. Before me spread a vast, beautiful lake, with clear waters dotted with small and large sparkling shoals of fish swimming contently. I looked around in a stupor, not believing my eyes.
What is this place..? was the first thought to wander into my head
Standing up dreamily I gazed around at the beauty of my surroundings. It was perfect.
No such thing as 'perfect' was the second thought to come into my mind. I didn't like that thought.
As if in answer, a small disturbance rippled into life just a few feet out. A hole. At first, it was minuscule, barely visible. But it grew before my eyes. Smaller than the size of a penny, up to the size of a couch. Then to a house. Increasing hugely every second, large enough to swallow a small town now. Believing it was a whirlpool, I just watched in horror, as it grew impossibly, madly sucking up fish, trees, houses, animals, earth and then stars, dwarfing the world until finally, consuming the entire universe. Smoothly, it changed colour from a watery blue to a foreboding pitch black. I tried to look away, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the vortex, as if it had hypnotized me into a trance. I stood watching, paralyzed by fear even as the ground beneath me disappeared and below me was only space. And then, in an instant I was yanked in by my feet screaming like a lunatic, drowning, my face buffeted by water. And then it was over.
I woke an instant later to an all-too-real splash of freezing water over my face. I tried to shake my head of both dream and reality but my neck refused to obey me. Still tired, I tried to roll back into a blissful sleep. I forgot my dream instantly. Not a second later an ugly jolt of pain lanced though my side, instinctively I kicked out and forced my eyes open, almost closing them as another wave of weariness washed over me.
"RISE." screeched a voice no more than a foot away from my face. Too dazed to respond to the voice, a coarse pair of hands subsequently hauled me to my feet. I didn't have the strength to stay up.
"I SAID STAND!" I raised my head and focused my eyes on the source of the voice, straight in front of me. An unshaven man with wild hair as dark as his skin and an air of harsh discipline flowing out of him. I can't remember much more, but I know I was sitting in a wagon of sorts, on all sides of it were makeshift walls, whether to keep people out or to keep me in I couldn't tell, though the bumpiness of the ride pointed to the latter. My feet screamed from dark splinters and I could easily tell my knees were far too unsteady to support me. Even my wrists were bound cruelly to the side of the vehicle. The man, managing to stand shakily in the moving wagon slowly sat down on a sort of shelf opposite me, fixing me with a hideous glare. Unlike earlier I could see the sky above me was bleak and gray. They made no move to block that out, whoever they were. Around me more people wearing nothing but rags sat grimly, clearly just as weary and malnourished as I was. As quickly as I had woken the wagon halted. The far wall of the wagon was kicked out by another man and what I saw made me forget about my pains.
An ugly line of Pikemen, swordsmen and Ballistae stood no more than 1,000 feet away, standing proudly with banners reaching the height of 3 men. The line had to be at least league wide-no doubt there were more ranks of me behind them. I gawked at the sheer size of the army before me, stupidly pondering their intent. The man who had woken me earlier threw me out of the wagon before jumping out after me. I didn't need his help to drag myself up this time. Glancing behind me I finally realized my purpose. At my back was an entire legion of Archers carrying bows of all sorts, short, long and everything between. Even a poorly constructed siege engine of some sort loaded with boulders was nestled a few meters away. Unlike the army in front of me which was regimented in straight rows and columns the legion of Archers seemed a rabble-even I could tell they were heavily outnumbered. Looking back towards the face of the inevitable, the word meatshield drifted through my mind. And then a lone horn of war sounded over far, far over the lonelier plains.
~~~

More to come, if you vote yes in the poll.......

*Cough* Comments *Cough* Please *Cough*

Seven beings were on a tramp freighter, bound from Coruscant to Nar Shaddaa, the Hutt moon. One of these, the oldest, was a Togruta female. Her name was Shaak Ti.

She was a Jedi Master. A Council member in fact. She had been responsible for the defence of the Jedi Temple after the Sith had begun their revenge. And she had performed well. But not well enough. The Force had roared as Jedi were cut down in the Temple itself. Her friends had died around her, just because she had failed to do one simple thing: keep Anakin Skywalker within the Jedi Temple. It had been a simple task, and she had failed. And because of her failure, Mace Windu had died, Darth Sidious had lived, and Jedi were cut down across the galaxy as a direct result of Operation Knightfall and Order 66. She could have stopped it. But she had failed.

The next person, sleeping fitfully, as though in pain, was a young woman with black hair in ponytails. Her arm was in a sling, and her back was in pain, but aside from that, there was no indication of her fight with the newly christened Sith Lord Darth Vader. This was Serra Keto. The former, and best, padawan of Jedi Battlemaster Cin Drallig, she had went one on one with Vader, and had lost. She would have died if it hadn't been for Shaak Ti finding her. Shaak Ti put her away safe, and then stabilised her after she had finished her fight with Vader. She had since nursed her back to health.

Next was a young boy of fourteen, named Whie. He winced with every movement. This boy had been training under Cin Drallig when Vader had attacked, backed up by the 501st Legion. He had attacked Vader, but Vader had been too quick for him. If it wasn't for Cin Drallig force pushing him at the last possible moment, Whie would have died. But, now, he was on the mend, after careful care by Shaak Ti.

Beside him, holding his hand in sympathy, was a girl of fourteen, called Tallisibeth Enwandung Esterhazy, or Scout. She had been smuggled out of the Temple by a Jedi Knight, who had been killed by a stray blaster bolt from a clone. She was the only one from her group to have survived, the others all being killed as they ran.

Next was a young boy of ten, called Zett Jukassa. He had taken the clones head on, trying to get out of the Temple with Senator Bail Organa. Unfortunately, Commander Fox, one of the leaders of the 501st, had shot him down. Shaak Ti had rescued him and had slowly nursed him back to health.

Next was another padawan, called Senna Cy. She was girl of Zett's age. She had been taken out of the temple by a kindly Gran Jedi. She had then watched as the Jedi had been murdered by clones. She had went into the temple vents, finding Shaak Ti and her wounded Jedi.
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