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Legend: The Dreaming(serious roleplayers only!)
When a mortal sleeps, they travel to another world. A world without law, without rule or concrete fact. A world where anything is possible, where both dreams and nightmares are created. This world is called the Dreaming, and it is governed by Morpheus, lord of dreams, and his wife Queen Mab. The heart of the Dreaming is Fiddler's Green, which governs all the dreams and imagination within the Dreaming.
However, Fiddler's Green has been broken and nightmares and demons haunt the Dreaming, hoping to escape and reign chaos upon the world. So, Morpheus and Queen Mab have called upon the most noble of all dream beings, the heroes of myth. These heroes have inspired stories in the minds of the creative, and have lived out epic adventures in the dreams of many mortals. Now, it is up to those heroes to stop these evil nightmarish beings and reseal Fiddler's Green. Ok, here is the deal. You can play any mythological character, be it a god, demi-god, or hero. However, you must be accurate about it. For example, if you choose to play Hercules (which is spelled Heracles in the Greek versions of the myth) then you will not play the disney version. Also, keep in mind is was a little known hero named Bellerophon who was the master of Pegasus, not Hercules or Perseus as many movie adaptations have led you to believe. Also, it doesn't have to be Greek myth, any mythology including Nordic, Egyptian, Mesapotamian, and Roman are allowed. Also, keep it in traditional mythology, no modern creations like your favorite anime character, a comic book hero, or characters from books like Harry Potter. Other than that, be creative and have fun. You can change a character to fit the story as neccessary (afterall, who hasn't changed myth for an adaptation?) as long as it doesn't ruin the character. |
Thanatos stirred, awoken by his half-sister, Iris.
"It is time," The lesser diety stood, and immiedialty the sword of The Slainjumped into his right hand. The Perpetually Drowsing Hypno, his brother, lay close by, Peaceful Death's feet moved by silently, as usual. There was little, if any, Peaceful death anymore, the tortured Nightmares running amok in the Dream Realm had seen fit to put an end to "Dying peacebly in one's sleep,". Iris had come to inform Thanatos that Queen Mab and Morpheous were ready for him to gather those who they had seen fit to fix Fiddler's Green. Thanatos flew out to The Elysian Fields, to meet them. OOC>((Thanatos is the little known Greek version of The Grim Reaper. He is brother to Hypno, god of sleep and Half-brother to Iris, a lesser messenger diety and godess of rainbows. He does actually exist in mythology, so don't turn around and start yelling at me, okay? i modled my name after it... not vice-versa. Thanatos uses The Sword of the Slain instead of a scythe, that is a christian adaptation.)) |
Orpheus sat by a creek in the Elysian Fields with Euyridice. Hermes had delivered a message to him this morning, and he and Euyridice sat in silence since he left. Since his arrival to the Elysian Fields, he hadn't taken his eyes off of his wife, Euyridice. One time, his life had been ruined just by glancing at her at the River Styx, but now all he wanted to do is gaze upon her beauty and be with her forever.
In life he had been a hero. He was the son of Apollo and was famous for his exploits with the Argonauts. However, he was Euyridice's husband first and foremost. How could the lord of dreams wish him now, to abandon the love he had vowed to never leave the presence of for the rest of time? He did not know how long the adventure would take, nor if he would return. All he wanted to think about now was Euyridice. He would go to the hall of Morpheus later and refuse, still with Euyridice by his side. For now, he just let his fingers guide themselves about his lyre as he sang a song of his love for his wife. ---------- Elysian Fields: While the common image of the greek underworld is all pain and suffering with an evil Hades and horrific demoms, there is a section of the underworld called the Elysian Fields which is meant for those who led worthy lives. |
Awakening
He dreamt, as he had dreamt for centuries upon centuries...and yet, he did not. His dreams were troubled, having once been peaceful.
There had been a time when his dreams had brought him memories of happier times, before all had turned dark and drear and that which he loved had abandoned him. He remembered his youth in the home of his foster father. He remembered exploring the woods and the fields, wandering where he willed. He remembered meeting his beloved teacher and friend in those woods so very, very long ago and all that he learned at the man's side. He remembered the two swords he had wielded during his life; one now broken and the other gone for the time being. He remembered setting eyes on his lovely wife for the first time, how the sight of her had nearly stopped his breath while his heart cried out to her; he remembered winning her. He had once remembered the hunting and the feasting, duels and tournaments and great adventures. He had remembered laughing and singing and time with friends and loved ones, but now those happy memories were fled and gone, replaced by other, darker thoughts. He remembered the betrayal of those he loved. He remembered the loss of dear friends. He remembered lying on the bloody field of battle, bleeding and dying, his life slowly leaving him. He remembered the sure and certain knowledge that all he had built, all he had created, was gone; and in his sleep, he wept. Then, he heard it. He heard the clarion call ringing once, and it stirred him slowly from sleep. Then it came again and his eyes slowly began to open. The sound-the ringing of a great iron bell-came one final time and he sat up, muscles crying out from disuse. "Has the time come at last?" The messanger of Morpheus shook his head slowly, looking at the man before him. This hero was tall and broad-shouldered. Though he had been well into middle-age when he had been sent to this sleep, he looked a man twenty years younger. Blond hair cascaded down his shoulders and he had a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. He seemed to radiate authority and the messanger quickly caught himself before he bowed, remembering his own position. "No, the time has not come...but surely you have noticed that your dreams are troubled. I come as a messanger from the Lord of Dreams to ask your aid." The hero nodded slowly. "I come then, to serve my home and people...and all the world...once more. But one thing first I must do." The hero rose, donning his armor quickly and stepped out of the stone monastary in which he had rested for so long. The day was crisp and bright, and he stopped a moment, revelling in the feeling that he could experience even a shadow of life once more. A great body of water stretched before him and, the messanger following, he stepped into a rowboat and began to row them out. Finally, when they had gone a short ways, the man stood, setting the oars in the boat. "I come for that which was mine." In response, a pale hand, clothed in shimmering samite rose from the lake beside the boat. In one hand, it clutched a gleaming sword on which could be seen ancient writing. The hero took up the sword, raising it high as it flashed in the sunlight. "Let us go then," said Arthur Pendragon, Once and Future King of Britain. "It seems we've a long road ahead." |
Far away in a jungle land all but forgotten, mortals stirred as their once peaceful slumber was jolted by nightmares of demons and dark creatures lurking in the shadows of their very minds. The Heavens and Hells of Mother Earth began activity not seen since the Creation. Mortals and deities alike suffered dreams of shadow and strife.
Normally, this would not be so troublesome to the Aztec god of war, Camaxtli. However, if mortals are so preoccupied with their dreams and lack of sleep, then they can't wage war and battle. And, it's war that drives a god like Camaxtli. "The dreams of the night are troubling to me," Camaxtli said. His father, the Feathered Serpent Quetzacoatl, laid a large hand on Camaxtli's shoulder. "Yes, I sense the images, too," Quetzacoatl said. "I fear something has happened in the Fiddler's Green." The two gods stepped outside overlooking a massive plaza. They stood atop the largest pyramid in the land known as Mexico. Jungles spread for miles and miles around their city. Many thousands of worshippers lay naked upon the hot streets below. Some offered sacrifices while some played ball. The hot sun baked overhead reflecting off of the god's deep bronze skin. Camaxtli nodded, his feathered headress waving in the warm breeze. His sharp features were a direct mix of Quetzacoatl's more angular face and his mother's soft features. The war god raised his spear, pondering the meaning of all this. "Father, if the mortals cannot dream, neither can we. I sense war is coming and our people cannot be distracted." Quetzacoatl stared straight ahead. "Men from far away are destined to come. They seek riches and conquest, but we will never yield. These white men come with weapons and power like we have never seen. Their gods are weak, though, and foolish to think they can conquer the power of the Serpent." At that moment, a cloaked woman stepped behind the gods. Her light blue cloak shimmered in the bright sunlight. Camaxtli and Quetzacoatl turned, surprised someone had so quietly approached without their knowledge. "My lords," she spoke in a soft molodic voice. "I bring tidings from the land of Elysia." "You must be Morpheus's message girl," Quetzacoatl sneered. "How did you get in here, girl? If Morpheus wishes to speak to the Feathered Serpent, then he should come himself." Camaxtli stepped forward to the greet the girl. Her pale skin was in direct contrast to Camaxtli's deep brown. The war god found himself oddly attracted to the girl's blonde hair and skin. "Father, surely she brings a message from Elysia concerning these troubles of late," Camaxtli's hand turned and he offered the girl a white yucca flower. The girl took it and smiled. "Indeed, Lord Camaxtli. My master Morpheus seeks assistance to quell the uprising in Fiddler's Green. Demonic forces have escaped and are running rampant over the dream world. Mortals are destined to go insane and commit atrocities like the world has never seen. Morpheus seeks powerful warriors to combat the threat and end it." Camaxtli glanced at his father, who continued to give the girl a disapproving stare. "So he sent you to find us to help?" "Yes, my lord," the girl said. "Morpheus has called all deities from all known lands to assist. This is truly a crisis never before seen. Lord Camaxtli, will you help us?" Quetzacoatl spat. "Bah, Morpheus can solve his own problems. We will find this threat and kill it ourselves. We answer to no one." Camaxtli held up a hand. "Father, only together in force will the world's gods defeat such a threat. To spread evil in dreams is a power no mortal weapon can pierce. Surely the Feathered Serpent would approve of cooperation. Our people suffer and will be unable to wage war when the White Man comes. I must go." Quetzacoatl thought for a moment. "You speak truth, son. Go with my blessing and take the Serpent Amulet with you. Our power of the sun shines through it. May is light your path." Camaxtli let out a sigh and took the girl's outstretched hand. He gripped his spear and shield and together, the two vanished. Quetzacoatl turned and continued to stare out into the plaza. Whether Camaxtli succeeds or not, Quetzacoatl felt a growing sense of doom. His people would not survive the coming of the White Man. It was only a matter of time. |
Odysseus
His home had finally been cleansed. The suitors of his wife are now slain and resting in the soil of his land, Ithaca. Penelope had finally been ridded of the suitors who plagued her house and was put into constant pressure to remarry one of the many suitors.
He tore off the wig and rag he wore to pretend that he was a begger to reveal Achilles' armor, a kilt, and his long sword sheathed at his hip. His journey had finally been over, he was finally home to his rightful place as ruler... Or had it been? "Odysseus," said a faint voice as the hero had turned around to see a cloaked man standing infront of him. "Come with thee..." Without his consent, a blinding light had grasped him as it sucked him away from Ithaca again! His hard-work journey home had just been stripped from him as he was sent into a spiraling concussion... To where? |
Queen Mab paced, usually she would be happily sitting on her throne smiling, but now, she too was troubled. NO happiness had come to her for weeks now, the deamons now haunted the realm she had called home for the better part of her exsistance.
And now she had sent, after much delay, on account of her stubborness, for the heroes of every land. She hoped they wouldnt need their help, but it had come to her attention that there was no way to keep her realm safe for the dreamers of the human would. So she paced, so much that one might think she would bore a hole in the floor of the throne room. Some men and gods alike were begining to fill her vast chamber, some coming on their own accord knowing that something had been set in motion that would be hard to undo. "Come friends rest your weary feet, others are still yet to come," she motioned to the people majesticaly watching most of them sit at a long wooden table, she had set just for this purpose. With one moments hesitation she went back to her gentle pacing, her robes rippleing about her with each step. |
"My feet be not weary, Mab,"
Thanatos replied evnly, and in a somewhat joking tone, landing/materilizing softly behind the Queen. "What, exactly, do you need me to do?" Thanatos stood at a semi-alert stance, having decided to change his destination to Mab's current location at the last moment. Ah, Whatever. His sword rested at a point-down angle, slightly curved tip almost touching the floor. Death waited... |
Tyr sat unmoving in front of Fenrir, the giant wolf, as it growled and cursed him with every fiber of its being. Tyr had lost his right arm to this creature, and he still continued to care for it. Possibaly because of its shame, a being of such power bound by a ribbon. Gleipnir would not break, it was dwarf work, and they were masters at their craft. Tyr looked to his spear and pulled the large boar out of his pack. Placing it on the ground in front of Fenrir he urged it forward with the point of his spear. The boar was finished before it reached the paw of the great wolf. Tyr, sat still unmoving thinking back on how he had lost his arm to the behimoth. Fenrir was still free then and the Norse gods needed to emprison him. After receiving Gleipnir from the dwarfs they atempted to trick the wolf into allowing itself to be tied with the ribon. After a bit of convincing he agreeed, however in a show of trust he told them to have one of the gods put their arm in his mouth. Tyr was the only one brave enough, and when Fenrir found he could not break the ribbon he took his vengance by biting Tyr's arm off.
Tyr was interupted when Odin's raven Muninn came soaring down from the heavens. It said only three words, then left but those three words were more heavily laid upon Tyr's back than any other three words could be. "Tyr, prevent Ragnarok." Then it flew off. Tyr knew his place in Ragnarok, and he knew that it would be an almost imposable task, though he was the god of bravery, he did not wish to bring such a fate upon the earth. So he followed Muninn, eventualy Muninn faded into the sky and Tyr found himself on the threshold of a great castle. He heafted his spear and was about to enter when Muninn returned with a different spear. As he aproached Tyr gasped in awe, as the mighty spear Gungnir, was seen hanging in Muninn's tallons. "A tool from your father," Said the raven as it flew off into the night. Grasping Gungnir in his hand Tyr entered the threshold to the castle... Tyr is the Norse god of honor and bravery... Gungnir is Odin's spear, that never misses its target... Ragnarok is translated to "The fall of the gods" during Ragnarok Tyr is to kill the bloodhound Garm (Think Cerebus with one head, four eyes, and a blood soaked chest) and is destined to die in the process. |
Orpheus stood in the hall of Morpheus, Eurydice still with him. He had made up his mind already. There was no way he could agree to doing such a thing. Yet the more he stared at his wife the more he realised how dear their home was to them. If the nightmares continued, would Eurydice still look so beautiful? Could they enjoy their lives in such a corrupt land?
Still, if not him, someone would rise to the occasion. He looked about the crowd to find that nearly every worthy soul he had ever heard of was gathering in this hall. He seriously doubted his presence was neccessary. He had had quite an adventure alongside Jason on board the Argo, and at that time he had been a very famous hero, but there were beings far greater than he. There was a time when he could walk the streets of Greece and the people who saw him would say "That's Orpheus! Son of the sun god Apollo!" His musical talent with his lyer had charmed the nymphs and even the cold Hades, but Hades had gotten the last laugh in the end. His skills as a warrior were also of worthy mention, for on his voyage with Jason he slew many men and monsters alike. But why him? It was true he had been a hero, but that was before. Before being killed by a mob of vengeful Thracians, before his journey across the River Styx where he confronted Cerberus and other dark beings of the Underworld, and it was also before Eurydice. Since his marriage to her, he had given up being a hero. Everything he did was for her. Morpheus seemed to be absent at the moment. Queen Mab sat alone on her throne which was of brilliant build but not quite as glamorous as that of Morpheus. The heroes waited for him almost like stones. Despite their glory and reputation, there was very little mingling going on. This was obviously not a social visit for any of them. It was all business, which they awaited to have settled. |
Odysseus was one of the few sitting on the wooden table with his forearms resting on the top, and his legs tapping anxiously. How had he managed to find himself in another quest, when he had just finished one what not another ten minutes ago?
"I cannot understand this torment," he thought to himself. Penelope... will she be forced into being tried to remarry and make him re-do the whole drama like before? He had to ask... "Queen Mab, had time froze in our worlds since we're in this... 'Dream Realm'?" |
Cmaxtli emerged from behind a set of elaborate curtains to enter the throne room of Lord Morpheus. His sandled feet clicked softly on the intricate tile as he stepped forward to face Queen Mab. He brushed back his soft fur cloak and gazed upon the Queen with sharp, dark eyes.
"Queen Mab, I bring greetings from the Aztec Empire. I am Camaxtli, god of war in our land. I wish to speak to Lord Morpheus concerning these troubling news of late about the Dream World. I have come to help." The dark skinned warrior knelt low before the throne in respect. Camaxtli normally bows before no one, but in the presence of another god in another realm, he showed respect. Although he would favor a glorious war with these light skinned gods, it was not the time. His people needed help to escape this nightmare to better wage war upon his enemies. |
Mab looked about as she perched on her throne. Her husband was still absent. The hall was considerably more full then it had been before. Pushing hair from her eyes she tried to smile at the people who had gathered there. A few people had chanced to speak with her.
Before she had sat Thanatos had appeared behind her., "Thanatos, dear man, this task is not just for you, but more then everyone here could deal with." she told him and then she had sent to sit on her throne. "Odysseus, I understand your pain, but we would not have taken thee if it twerent nessacary," she said sighing, "We will be done with this as soon as possible dear friend." she didnt know what else to tell him. "I thank thee, Cmaxtli, for your preasence at this most depressing time,My husband is on his way, please, sit and rest among the others." Mab said motioning to the tables with a forced smile on her face. |
Arthur stood forward, making a courtly bow. "My lady. You honour us with your hospitality. It surpasses the hospitality of my own former hall in Camelot with great ease. My thanks for opening your home thusly to us."
This said, he took a seat beside Orpheus, glancing about at the others gathered around. In truth, the Once and Future King felt nervous and ill-at-ease in such company. Much as he tried to tell himself that they were all comrades-at-arms in this, all great heroes, he felt inadequate sitting beside the sons of gods and goddesses...and at least one who was himself a deity. He knew in his heart that he was nothing more than a man. A man of royal blood, but in the end there was nothing truly special about him as there was about these men. Orpheus had made the stones weep and the rocks cry out, even making the lord of Hades cry. Oddysseus had surived one of the most perilous journies of history when all others had perished. He had heard tales of them and other great heroes at the foot of his teacher, Merlin. Now, beside them, he felt truly small. |
Camaxtli nodded to Queen Mab and stood to join the others seated around a large ornate table. Many dishes of food and drink were available and Camaxtli helped himself to a large goblet of fine red wine. Others simply stared at him. They probably had never seen a warrior from the sun drenched jungles of the Western lands.
Camaxtli pulled his long hair back and drank fully. At that moment, a man entered the court. He was a tall, lean man with a royal elegance about him. His armor shone as the sun and his weapons were some of the finest Camaxtli had ever seen. Was he a god? No...he was not, but a mere mortal. But, this mortal was truly of a godly grace and imminence. "Greetings Arthur. I am Camaxtli, lord of war in the West," Camaxtli extended a hand to the human. "You dress as a god. Truly, your weapon belongs to the sun's temple and your armor radiates as a bright light upon the cobblestone. How does a mortal come to be here? Surely you know of the danger we face?" |
Tyr entered the hall grasping Gungnir tightly in his only arm. He noted everyone from heroes of the lands to the south, to uknown dieties were seated around a large table, yet he saw no other norse gods or heroes. This worried him because Tyr did not have the greatest reputation amongst other gods who only saw him as the god who lost his power to Odin. He aproached the throne of Queen Mab. He instincivly knew that she had most likely sent for Odin, since he had not talked to any of her people directaly and after kneeling down, he saluted her with Gungnir and said:
"M'lady I am sory that Odin could not come, but he has sent me in his stead. I am Tyr, and wish to know what has happened for you to call all of these mighty warriors together. It is not everyday, that such a gathering is called." His thoughts returned to Ragnarok and what caos whould be rent upon the earth if it was allowed to happen. Did Odin trust him so much that he would send him alone to this gathering? Or was this some type of test. Surely Odin did not want Tyr dead. If he died the when Ragnarok did come who would defeat Garm, otherwise the realm of the dead will break free upon the earth. With these thoughts Tyr awaited the word of Queen Mab. |
Thanatos ghosted over to the table and leaned, somewhat bored-looking, and awaited for the Queen and/or his companions to start this.
He recoginzed many of the people here. Arthur, Camaxtial, tyr... and of course, the greeks. He stood and waited. |
In an instant, without sound or gesture, Morpheus was there. No entrance, nothing to imply any magical form of travel, he was simply there. It was the feeling one gets when a dream changes and the changes go acknowledged but not really noticed. It was as if he had been there the entire time and many could swear they had seen him before.
The lord of dreams was a tall lean man with very skin (almost a bluish gray) tone of skin and dark hark that nearly covered his pupil-less eyes. His attire was a blank black, or it seemed so at first. While nothing actually decorated his clothing, those who looked upon him saw images of the finest designs and artistic masterpieces which changed like the rippling of a pool of water. Despite his bizarre appearance, he was a very handsome man. His voice was strong but held the tone of a whisper, and every word seemed to piece one's ears and carry on to the deepest depths of the subconscious. "I'm glad to see you all have come," he said cheerfully. The occupants of the room stirred with surprise as they first acknowledged his presence. "You all know why I called you here, for many of you have probably been haunted in your sleep already." He stepped off of his throne and began strolling slowly down the center of his hall. All eyes were fixed on him as he passed, but Orpheus was the first to speak. "I'm sorry, my lord, but I cannot accept your request-" The son of Apollo began to speak but was cut off when Morpheus raised his hand to him without making any eye contact. "There will be time for that later," the lord of dreams said with little emotion. "Now," Morpheus continued. "I haven't called you here to force you into death, nor do I believe that doom awaits anyone who accepts. It is true, some of you may meet death at the hands of our enemies, but this land works in strange ways and I am sure that those who fall will not be lost entirely. As long as there are still mortals to dream of you marvelous beings, then the dream of you will live on." His face became grim, and so did his tone. "But without Fiddler's Green this land of few laws will be reduced to no law at all, and even dreams will become distorted with the insanity of the tormented mortals. The Dreaming will become dark, and we may become nightmares ourselves." He returned to his throne, taking a seat next to Queen Mab. His gentle mannerism returned and so did he kind manner of speaking. "The choice is yours. I don't know how many of you it will take to save the Dreaming and I've no just way of making you agree, so I can only ask that you take at least allow one sunset and one sunrise to make your decision. Those of you who choose to return here should come at dusk tomorrow, that is when the nightmares regroup to one location of the Dreaming and will be the safest time for you to set out. Now, if any of you wish to speak, you may do so now, or you may mingle amongst yourselves, but I suggest you go home, settle any business, and enjoy a night of rest." |
Odysseus had many thoughts running through his head, much more, he wanted to leave but a part of him requested for him to stay. This was a terrible decision to make, for his dreams have been haunted for the last few years of his wife Penelope being married to somebody else.
He wanted these dreams to cease... But another part of him told him that he could easily just ignore these nightmares because nightmares are just in your head and anything you see will not affect reality in any way. So, Penelope will always be by your side... He remained sitting, his hands running through his hair constantly as he wondered if he wanted to make such a painful choice as in fighting once more to savior himself later on... The choice was his, he just had to make it. |
Arthur inclined his head low to the god of war who sat close by him. "You do me great honour, noble one. It is true, that I am but a mortal, though a mortal of worthy bloodline and great deeds, if such may be said while I stand in such company as I am now in. Yet all the same, I am here because I was called, and because I fear I am needed. I will not shirk my duty out of fear or a desire to continue my rest until the time comes for me to return and reclaim my throne. Others need my strength now, others who suffer needlessly. Also, my own dreaming is disturbed by the demons and other dark things. My happy dreams tainted with the blackest of memories, sometimes driving me near to madness. I cannot continue as I have."
He stood, bowing to Morpheus as the lord of dreams arrived. "Oh Morpheus, mine host. My thanks for your hospitality. If you would hear my words, I will fight for you in this. For the land of dreams and all the people now troubled. Excaliber, and myself, are at your service. I would humbly request that the rest of you, for I would never...could never...demand, consider favorably our host's request, for it seems the need is great. |
Tyr bowed to Morpheus when he aproached the throne next to Queen Mab. His thoughts were troubled and immages of Ragnarok flashed through his mind. He saw Thor fighting Fenrir, the wolf that he had lost his arm to yet continued to care for. He saw Loki ariseing from the sea with his great fleet of giants and giantesses. He saw the world tree destroyed, and the inhospitable winters that would rule over the land. All of this flashed through the god's head and with such disturbing thoughts roaming free in his skull, he saulted Morpheus with Gungnir.
"Lord Morpheus, I come in Odin's stead, and I will aid you in this fight for I cannot allow these problems to escalate to such hights that ragnarok will come upon the earth." |
The doors burst up and a large red-bearded man in scale mail, carrying a hammer with a bit to short grip entered. His simple brown clothes hinted at no such thing as him beeing a god.
"All right So what did I miss!? Loki the bastard led me in the wrong direction, as usual!" Thor was upset, he was late, hungry, and eager to have a drink.. or five. He saw someone he recognized. "Tyr my friend! I see you have been summoned here as well." He laughed. "Now Who do I have to turn upside down to get a drink!" |
Tyr turned around releived to hear a familiar voice. "Thor, how have the seasons treated you?" He walked over to the large table and picked up two large tankards in his hand while stowing Gungir acrost his back in a sheath. He was not about to let the spear of Odin out of his sight. Then he handed one to Thor, and took a great gulp from the other.
"Loki again? We should get rid of him, it's like he's not even on our side anymore." His joking demenor deserted him soon however. "Thor, Odin's raven told me to prevent Ragnorok, we have to suceed here...it troubles me such a task is to fall on only the two of us from the north. It does not sit well in my mind. Fenrir is becoming restless again, and the Gleipnir is straining against his efforts. If this is any omen a shred of the ribbon fell from the rest a few days ago...." With that he took another large swig of ale. |
"The seasons treat me well, that or I fill them with thunder!" Thor chuckled and drank the whole tankard in one sweep.
"And do not worry, I bet that each of the people in here is worth a Balder or Heimdall Otherwise they would not be called here!" But, Thor knew though thar Ragnarok was coming closer.. The Midgardsorm was restless he had seen that on his last "fishing trip" "Now I wonder, what can we do to help, fair rulers of this court" |
Cuchulainn
OOC: (((Cuchulainn was a Celtic hero, back when Celtic myth wasn't so popular. with his divine connections, supernatural powers and magical weapon, he was the epic hero of the Celts. His mother was the daughter of a druid, and his father was the god Lugh.
Little info: Cuchulainn was trained in battle by a female warrior, Scathach, who taught him how to stand on a spear in flight, and gave him his weapon, the gae bolg . His weapon was a sort of spear that, when it struck home its head sprouted thirty darts that coursed through every part of the victim's body, killing him instantly. Cuchulainn also, when his blood was up, would go into a battle-frenzy during which his hair would stand on end, his muscles bulged and his body rotated in its skin. One eye would protrude from his head and the other sank into his skull. His battle cry drove people insane. In the legend, Cuchulainn was eventually wounded unto death. With his last strength, he tied himself to a rock so he would be able to face his enemies with honor, standing up. For three days none of them would approach him. In the end, a raven landed on his shoulders, and they knew he was dead. He is a real mythical hero, look him up if you don't believe me.))) Cuchulainn felt breath in his lungs again. With a deep, shuddering, painful breath, he pulled himself up straight. The ropes dug painfully into his skin, drawing blood which pooled at his feet. A pain stung in his side, the spear which was used to kill him still protruded from the wound. Cuchulainn screamed as he wrenched the wicked lance from his side, blood spattering in all directions. Yet death did not take him. Then he heard the voice. His mother's voice. "This one time is your life saved, my son. Another calls you, and you must answer. Go to the hall of Morpheus, and all will be answered." The wound in Cuchulainn's side healed, he felt his strength return. Gripping the mighty gae bolg , Cuchulainn started out in search of the hall of Morpheus. |
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