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legionworld2016-03-21 09:25 am
got_gud) wrote in legionworld2016-03-21 09:25 am
Entry tags:
The stars are different here
Who| Alexander and anyone
What| A new arrival contemplates his choices and the strange new world he finds himself in
Where| Observation deck
When| N/A
Warnings/Notes| N/A
Little over an hour ago, if one had by chance wandered near the Med Bay, they might have heard one of several exasperated exchanges such as this:
"His vitals have completely flat-lined! We need to get him to the emergency room immediately!"
"Lass, listen, please, I am Undead. I do not have 'vitals', apparently. This is the fifth time this has happened since I have awoken here. Earlier one of your comrades tried to wheel me off to some 'morgue' while I lay unconscious. Please, just leave me be."
He could not entirely blame them, though. This realm was apparently fraught with many dangers, but the curse of Undeath was not among them. To them, he was as much an oddity as this world was to him.
After trying to explain his peculiar condition multiple times to a rather excitable if well meaning medical staff, it was then he met the man, R.J. Brand. The portly gentleman explained the situation to him, about the loss of so many warriors, and the need for more -- thus the impetus to recruit numerous beings like himself, pulled here from other worlds -- if they were to have any hope of protecting the realm long enough to find a way to send everyone home.
And so it was that Alexander of Astora, once Chosen Undead and now the so-called Dark Lord, found himself in the Observation Deck, staring out onto the shining world below and what, to him, seemed like an endless night sky. An oddly anachronistic sight, the tall figure wearing a simple arming doublet and other padding meant to be worn beneath ancient styles of plated armor. He had been told the rest of his arms and armor would be held in safe keeping for the moment. It kept him ill at ease though, as being unarmed for a warrior like him was as if he were wandering around completely naked.
He told Brand that he would think about the offer. Truthfully, the idea seemed strange to him. He did not feel comfortable taking the title of 'hero' for himself, even if it was a so-called tradition for this Legion. Even the thought of fighting alongside others like him, after wandering through the ruins of Lordran alone for so long, felt strange.
Even so, he thought to himself, if he still had strength and powers beyond that of mortal men, he felt compelled to use that strength in defense of the helpless. After all, the world could be cruel, at times the only comfort it offered was that which men like him had once fought hard to maintain.
He stood there, arms crossed, still staring out into the vast ocean of stars before him. He had much to think on.
What| A new arrival contemplates his choices and the strange new world he finds himself in
Where| Observation deck
When| N/A
Warnings/Notes| N/A
Little over an hour ago, if one had by chance wandered near the Med Bay, they might have heard one of several exasperated exchanges such as this:
"His vitals have completely flat-lined! We need to get him to the emergency room immediately!"
"Lass, listen, please, I am Undead. I do not have 'vitals', apparently. This is the fifth time this has happened since I have awoken here. Earlier one of your comrades tried to wheel me off to some 'morgue' while I lay unconscious. Please, just leave me be."
He could not entirely blame them, though. This realm was apparently fraught with many dangers, but the curse of Undeath was not among them. To them, he was as much an oddity as this world was to him.
After trying to explain his peculiar condition multiple times to a rather excitable if well meaning medical staff, it was then he met the man, R.J. Brand. The portly gentleman explained the situation to him, about the loss of so many warriors, and the need for more -- thus the impetus to recruit numerous beings like himself, pulled here from other worlds -- if they were to have any hope of protecting the realm long enough to find a way to send everyone home.
And so it was that Alexander of Astora, once Chosen Undead and now the so-called Dark Lord, found himself in the Observation Deck, staring out onto the shining world below and what, to him, seemed like an endless night sky. An oddly anachronistic sight, the tall figure wearing a simple arming doublet and other padding meant to be worn beneath ancient styles of plated armor. He had been told the rest of his arms and armor would be held in safe keeping for the moment. It kept him ill at ease though, as being unarmed for a warrior like him was as if he were wandering around completely naked.
He told Brand that he would think about the offer. Truthfully, the idea seemed strange to him. He did not feel comfortable taking the title of 'hero' for himself, even if it was a so-called tradition for this Legion. Even the thought of fighting alongside others like him, after wandering through the ruins of Lordran alone for so long, felt strange.
Even so, he thought to himself, if he still had strength and powers beyond that of mortal men, he felt compelled to use that strength in defense of the helpless. After all, the world could be cruel, at times the only comfort it offered was that which men like him had once fought hard to maintain.
He stood there, arms crossed, still staring out into the vast ocean of stars before him. He had much to think on.