Lost Colony Roole Play aka Role Play A

Since the day we first awoke it have been seven years, two month, and three days from the Day of Origin. Exactly seven years from the great attack on the city of Rahon which has not been inhabited by people since. It is time to continue with our story now. The story of you. The story of the future!

A story must have a beginning and so ours starts with Norman de Flay, known as Nor, who at this moment is currently in the city of Rein east of Rahon.

Nor turned the page of the book he was reading. He recalled the cover of the book which he had started only three hours earlier. The dark black leather cover and gray lining and stood out to him among the other books he had picked up. And plus there was that weird symbol on the front. In the very center of the cover was a small symbol a little worn with age and mistreatment. It was a pentagon with lines coming from each of the points to the center. This alone would not have been too intresting if it had not been for the fact that the pentagon was in fact not complete. The lines that should have connected to each other to form the perfect shape only went a quarter of the total distance.
While he had been reading, Nor had thought that the text had been a little strange. For some things just didn't add up. And the more he read, the more he was sure that the message inside this book was not its true message. A second read through had confirmed it. He had a task to do now, seems like he no longer would be bored. He had to do one of the things he liked best, he had a code to break.

The door to the building that Nor had been opened and Norman De Flay stepped out into the bright daylight. His glasses instantly became darker then they already were but even at their fast reaction speed, Nor's sunglasses could not keep pace with the speed of light, letting a tiny bit of sunlight pierce his eyes. He brought his arm up but the damage was already done. He became blinded by the sudden light and just like it always did the light of day brought about light-headedness to Nor that cause him to behave almost like he was drunk. Unable to think or function properly he stumbled into the near by alleyway which showered him in its comforting darkness. He slumped to the ground unable to stand and silently cursed at his folly. He knew he should have waited for dark or at least exited slowly, which would have made him look like a creep but it would have been better than this. His box of books was gone. He silently cursed again. But as the feeling slowly returned to him the pain in his hand told him that the book he had found was still in his hand. The lack of blood flow confirmed it. He eased up on his grip and brought his book close to him hiding it his trench coat. His hand fell to his side as sleep overtook him. Once again he cursed at the sunlight that was binding him.

((grrr, this is why I tried to make a very insignificant character, so that I wouldn't slow people down))

As Marc finally entered the town of Rein, he took a deep breathe in, glad to have finally made it. Luther was glad too, he guessed, though nothing showed besides the weariness from the 'detour' they had to take. With the monsters moving around at random intervals, paths that the two had used for years would suddenly become inaccessible due to herds of monsters. Unfortunately, Marc had gotten lost trying to take a roundabout direction, and they ended up taking a week longer then planned. Sleep was the main priority in both of their minds, so Marc quickly spotted a familiar motel. At this, he stopped and took off his backpack, saaying, "Come on boy, come on, get in the bag, c'mon boy! Good boy." Once Luther was securely hidden in the empty food pocket of Marc's backpack, they started heading towards the motel. Marc hoped that Luther wouldn't grow much bigger, because he was heavy enough to carry as it was. They finally walked into the motel's office, they met an elderly man sitting behind a desk. "Hey Dave, long time no see!" "Marc! So, you're in town again, huh? That's good. I'll get a room ready for you." "Thanks a bunch Dave!", Marc said. "Hey, where's that hound of yours? You know I don't like pets in my place, specially not hairy ones." "Luther? Oh yeah, I dropped him off at a friend's house for the night. Don't worry." "Good to hear. Here are the keys to your room, the number's on the key. And I don't have a free breakfast any more, so you'll have to help yourself." "Ok, Thanks Dave!", he said as he walked out the door and made his way to his room. As he staggered in the door, he dropped the bag and wearily let Luther out of the bag. After that, he lay on top of his bed, coat and all, exhaling at the extraordinary comfort of this bed. Under his breathe, he swore that by the time he left this town, he'd have a better way of traveling then walking everywhere. And at that, he drifted off to sleep.

Looking out over the desert, the old man shifted his weight back onto his good leg. Just like every night, as Sol sank past the horizon, his mind wondered into the past. The day they awoke, friends made and lost, the terror of running, finding this ruined city and making it a home. The work they put into protecting themselves when they came here. This ruined city, even seven years later, slowly giving up its secrets while being rebuilt. He came out of his reverie with one last memory; a man, traveling into the same desert that stretched far in front of him now. The man had a gruff exterior that kept most away from him but the old man saw a spark of kindness in him, he did that sometimes; saw deep into people, and this man who had come to the city on his way into the desert was hard to read but for that spark of kindness. Thinking of another kind soul lost to the terrors of the dessert the old man did not see the small shadow creep up to him until too late.
“Grandpa, why are you still out here?”
Jumping at the sound of the one of his many grandchildren, none actually related, he shifted to much weight onto his bad leg and collapsed back into his chair. “Jerard… You scared this old man. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Jerard looked keenly at the old man, wise beyond his six years. Then he smiled. “A man is coming tonight. From out there.” His small pudgy finger pointed towards the desert as he tried to look tall.
“Tonight? Did you have a nightmare Jerard?”
“No grandpa. I woke up ‘cause I’m like you.”
Startled, the old man drew a quick breath. Whispering, “And what will happen next I wonder,” the old man picked up his grandson and set him on his good knee. “Will you help me keep watch till the morning?”
Snuggling up, the boy smiled and yawned content, “Yes.” His message delivered to someone he knew would respect it, he slipped back into a light doze.
Gazing once again out over the desert the old man knew the child was right. But he knew more. His gut had been telling him that that man had lived through the desert and was on his way back. The man that was a spark of kindness. Humming quietly and rocking gently he kept watch over the desert throughout the night.

Seeing the beacon of the city ahead Wulf smiled to himself. That old man that had warned him of the desert had been right. It was a dangerous place. But he still found what he had been looking for. Patting the bundle strapped down in front of him, checking that it was still safe, he glanced behind him on the bike at his friend, curled up and sleeping peacefully, the little monster. Looking toward the beacon again Wulf knew the ride would be about another half hour, and someone, he felt, would be waiting for him. After all, ahead was Agriba, the city of the desert, and the safest city since Rahon was taken over.

Authors note: the lost ones (Legion) is the Characters name, but he refers to himself quite allot in 3rd person or as a collective of persons.

The lost ones had been wondering for days in the forest. Then there was a flash in the mind of the one called legion of a large desert, off they set. The had been traveling for days moving silently through the woods, till they came upon a valley completely devoid of trees. This set them on edge, as legion sat there and smelling the air the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up. He knew they where down there. Any one else on this world would have found another way around, not legion he relished the challenge the thrill of being hunted, of out witting them, (not that it was hard) he thought. So they begin their decent.
Quietly at first till they found tracks and then he felt a chill as if death its self was there staring at him. There mixed with the tracks of the normal sized beasts where tracks of the handlers and worse yet...the huge monsters. They where unstoble creaters no words could describe them, total killing machines. Legion did the only thing he new how to do in such a situation, meditate and see if there was anyway he could see something from the past that would help him. He waited and nothing came. Alsa maybe ever one else had been smarty he laughed at that and continued on. Several days pasted.
Almost at the end of the valley with out an instant he saw a single lone beast, it must be a rear scout it was sure to see his tracks, Normally he would be all for a good chase but not with so many huge monsters in this gathering he thought to himself "some one needs to name the better... funny at a time like this to be worry about something so dumb. So he drew his knives and crept closer. He was within reach no more than 4m when the beast just sat down! Well to legion that was the perfect opportunity and he dashed forward thrusting the knife up into the beasts brain from the underside of the jaw. As it slow toppled over Legion ran, and ran as fast and as hard as he could. Knowing that the monsters would be on his trail and that time was running out for him to reach the desert...

Sneaking past the guards into Agriba was not the easiest task, but it was a lot easier then sneaking past some of the monsters Wulf had come across. The hard part was getting his friend to stay with the bike and keeping the package safe. Wulf hoped he had made himself clear; otherwise there would be a pretty big ruckus in the morning. Making his way through the lit streets and past the rebuilding that had halted for the night, taking dark alleys when people may see him, Wulf drew closer and closer to his destination. Glancing around a final corner he saw ahead of him the bright neon sign he had been searching for. He had made it. Checking both ways, he dashed across the street into a final alley. Ahead of him was a large Sliv door. Easing it open on well oiled hinges he slipped into the building.
“So you finally made it back, uh. If I didn’t know you better I would have expected that you were lost forever.” The big bartender’s smooth voice and the out-held cup drew Wulf over to bar. “So? Found what you were looking for?”
“You wish you knew.” With a cocky nod Wulf tossed back his drink and sighed in pleasure.

The air began to chill as the sun once again started it's daily rueteen of sinking behind the horizon. Nor squinted for a minute, still unsure to open his eyes. Finally he opened them to find that the day had passed into the late afternoon. He could deal with the current amount of light but it still was uncomfortable. He got to his feet, his back against the wall and quickly patted himself down. The book with that weird symbol on it was still in his jacket and he also found no unexpected wholes in his body, meaning no one had come around and just stabbed him for fun.
He looked around in the alley that he was crouched in. It was filthy no wonder no one had even bothered to come in here. Garbage was stoon everywhere and Nor didn't even want to take a guess at what its occupants were. Plus in the dirt he could make out tiny tracks that belonged to the city rats. Not the horrible, giant, man-eating, plain rats. But they were just the horrible, not so big, finger eating, city rats, cousins to the plain rats. After all, they both are rats, anyone could make the connection. He mentally checked all the parts of his body down and after finding no missing fingers or nibble holes he stood up and using the wall for balance, headed out of the alley.
Norman De Flay pushed open the door to the motel he was staying at. He had over the last half a mile finally gotten his body to function normally, so he had entered looking normal. For a guy who was dirty and smelled like trash anyway. As soon as he had walked through the door, Dave who was behind the counter began to talk. Hey, you know that the money you paid me for your room runs out tonight, so unless your going to pay up more for more time I exspect you to be gone in the morning. Wow... he called holding his noise. You reek, take a shower.
I was planning on it. Nor replied as he head down the hall to his room which was at the very end in order to take the shower he so desired then... it was time to skip town.

As the sun came up the next morning the bartender finished cleaning up and gave the building over to his wife and her “restaurant”. Seeing Wulf still sitting in a booth he went over to ask if he wanted breakfast. As he approached Wulf, the old man fell out of the booth, sleeping. A smile crossed the bartender’s face. “Crazy man.” Picking up the limp, sleeping body, he noticed that for such an small guy, Wulf was extremely heavy. After kissing his wife goodbye he left through the backdoor and exited to the alley. Right down the street was the apartment building him and his family had taken over. Crossing the street at a brisk pace he brought Wulf inside.

“So Jerard, you’re finally back.” The old man stepping out of the lift hobbled toward the bartender. Noticing the limp bundle over Jerard’s shoulder he barely stifled a gasp. Under his breath he amazed, “So little Jerard was right. That crazy man is back.”
“Yep, and so is Wulf. He drank till he passed out this morning. Needs a bed and a shower this man does.”
“Umm… He can use my room, I’ll be gone till noon. Just lock the door so the children don’t get in.” With a happy smile he continued, “Little Jerard came in last night, couldn’t sleep, he was probably missing you again.”
Jerard beamed, “So he crept out with his mom on guard and everything, truly my son.” Still smiling he started to hum while he boarded the lift. “Thanks. See you later.” With a gentle pulse the lift took off toward the upper floors.

A dark, dirty, gloomy, weather worn, drunk figure jumped down from a five story building to a dark alleyway. He slumped to the floor empty bottle in his left hand. Today had been a good day to drink, the figure thought to himself. He debated weather or not to fall asleep on the spot or get up and find another drink. The sleeping won. He was out cold in a matter of moments.


Jessy walked around town, shopping bags filling both her arms. She regretted not picking up some of those boys who had been drooling over her four the past couple of hours, literately. But they were only that, boys. And she really didn't like boys, unless they were adorably cute. But those guys... we just ugly in her mind. Besides she only had one man in her life, all she needed to do was find him.
As she took a turn down the street to the left she went passed one, two, three, than four alleys, before in mid-stride he jumped backwards doing a back flip and sped off the way she had come. There at the first alley she had passed she found him. Once again he was sleeping in a filthy place... but, Oh well... she said out loud. What can I do but tell him he will catch a cold if he sleeps here. Jess said once again as she poked the sleeping man's shoulder. Hey... she said in a bit of a whinny voice. Logan, wake up.

((again, I have such an insignificant character that you can move him around if you want, just read my bio to predict his movements. Also, I SO claim the most unimportant character award for this RP. xD))

It had been a week since Marc came to Rein, and though he was able to make a decent living so far, things were winding down pretty quick. He had managed to find a suitable alleyway for Luther to sleep in, so as not to anger the 'almighty Dave', and though Marc had clearly instructed his doggy to stay put, every morning Luther would, without fail, be waiting outside the motel entrance since who-knows-when. Besides that, uneventful. The townspeople were too busy to pay heed to his music during the day (as always), and he didn't make nearly enough in the evening as he would like. So, he just spent most of his time trying to compose a new song for this town-visit, as is customary for bards. That, and desperately trying to fine tune his drawing skills (which was nowhere near done).

((sorry for the quicky post. this'll probably be the style for the remainder of the RP.))

Lillian sat on her chair watching the outdoors. Behind her sat her cabin, her own cabin that she had built with her own two hands. All around the back of the cabin grew the woods which cast a great shadow over her and her house. The day was sunny, but she preferred to stay in shadows, where she felt safer, not to mention cooler. She closed her eyes as the sound of insects and animals added to the peace of the day. She listened to the sounds of the birds twittering in the sky. But suddenly the dark screeching of the wild Costwood creatures screamed behind her. Flinging her eyes open she jumped to her feet, knocking her wooden chair to the ground. She placed her shaking hand on the handle of her pistol, which hung from her belt. She wasn’t going to take any chances. But, to her relief, the sounds died down and eventually ceased all together. Lillian relaxed and, picking up her chair, quietly sat it down in its rightful place under its specific tree. Looking around, she placed two fingers in her mouth and blew, creating a loud whistle that could easily be heard from a mile away. Looking to the sky she placed her arm out and within seconds there appeared a large bird like creature on her bare arm. “Good boy, Surune,” she whispered as she pet his fluffy head. She would have liked to stroke her hand all the way down his back and along his tail, but his spikes along his back were sharp and so could not be touched without wearing thick gloves. Lillian looked around and, seeing her motor cycle standing a few yards away, sighed and said, “Come on Surune, looks like he could use a bit of a polish.”