[dripik]

After 4 and a half years of RPing, I decided to have a go at writing. I won't tell details about the story itself yet, it would just ruin the prologue.

Although I can tell that I enjoyed writing of the prologue, so I will definatelly continue. Don't expect a short, half finished story, I already have the plot in mind, and I will carry it out in the best way I can. I'm also planning to illustrate every chapter with a drawing, I'll attach one to the prologue as soon as it's finished.

Feedback's appreciated, as always.

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The Robotic Guard


Prologue

Cracks in the dry copper-coloured ground, coniferous plants, small reptilians in the shade of stones and boulders which have been desiccated by the sun for centuries – this is how most would describe a desert. Avoided by most animals, except the reptiles who prefer this environment instead of lush, colourful forests and jungles. Not that they had a choice – this part of Mudos was rather scarce on trees and water, yet alone woodlands. But at least they were safe from the creatures which kept clear of the desert. The animals of the arid lands have managed to survive in the inordinate climate, and have been passing their knowledge to their descendants instinctively.

Reptiles were rather limited in observing their environment in detail, – no disrespect, their ability of survival is unmatched – so the question of why did the sky turn from blue to light gray never arose among them. The only thing that mattered to them was the large, bright sphere above which provided heat, rose from behind the eastern mountains and descended on the western plains. As long as the sphere maintained its routine, the reptiles wouldn’t even be bothered if the sky turned green instead of its natural color. They needed sunlight, and they got it – nothing else mattered.

A bird was flying across the grey sky. Seeing as it was small and its beak was not hooked, it was not a carnivore. Suffice to say that with these physical aspects, this bird wouldn’t survive long in the desert – nonetheless, it was winging its way in the sultry air, high above the cracked ground. What could have driven this lone adventurer into the hazardous desert, we could ask. „Instincts.” – it would say, but this was just an ordinary bird, so let’s asume it was not gifted with the knowledge of any civilized language.

Having the advantage of the height, the bird saw more of the desert than the reptilians who inhabited the grounds. It saw the endless plains which were only disturbed by the mountains to the east and rocks scattered over the ground, accompanied by some plants. But the sky remained grey, should it be observed from ground or air. There was a good chance that the bird noticed this, but it wasn’t bothered – the unusual color didn’t prevent him from flying. It flew towards south, doggedly and undisturbed.

What would this bird find on the other side of the desert, we could ask. „Food, trees, other birds.” - it would say. The would be no point to question this – apart from the fact that the bird would remain silent if we did anyway. This knowledge has been passing from elder to descendant among its kind for generations. They flew across the desert once in a lifetime, to find the forests and seas on the other end, where food was plentiful and predators were rare. This journey was a test, maybe law among the birds – they set off when the time came, no matter what.

The lone adventurer kept on flying, examining the ground every now and then, looking for a river, or at least a puddle to lessen its thirst. But its hopes were low – no water as far as the bird could see. But the sun seemed to be fainter than before. It was definately an advantage from the bird’s point of view. It didn’t care that the sky was also darker than before, which would seem unnerving to most. There was not a single cloud on the sky, yet it grew darker and darker as the bird sped across it.

The first unusual thing it noticed was a long formation the bird never seen before. It was like a thin, spiked, dark-grey serpent which came from the eastern mountains and led to the south – exactly where the bird was heading. The serpent didn’t move, but the bird didn’t descend to see what it is exactly. It kept on flying, following its instincts.

The sky grew darker and darker, and the bird couldn’t ignore it now. Enormous dark clouds gathered to the south, casting a bodeful shadow over the bird’s journey. But it didn’t turn back, the destination was more important – and, clouds mean rain, rain means water, as it was taught.

The bird flew towards the dark clouds, accompanied by the grey serpent running underneath. After a while, it spotted another grey formation, but this one was as large as a smaller mountain. The bird ascended higher to have a better view of it, and to prepare to fly over it. But it was still far away, yet it was clear now that the grey mountain was under the mass of the dark clouds, and the serpent was leading to it. Maybe it was the lair of the grey beast.

As the bird drew nearer to the grey mountain, it couldn’t ignore some phenomenons about this mountain. First of all, the ground around it was covered with at least a dozen of smaller spiked serpents, making the land completely grey. Then, it seemed as the grey clouds came from the mountain itself. It occured to the bird that this could be a volcano, but why were the grey serpents around it? Noone in their right mind would choose a volcano as their lair… But was it really a volcano? It seemed unnatural, organised and random at the same time. Edges too distinguishable, cliffs too smooth…

Now, with the sky being grey, the land being grey and the mountain being grey, the picture cast fear into the bird. The air became harder to breath, stinging the bird’s lung as it advanced towards the mountain. But it had to carry on, this is just an obstacle, a test to pass, like the ancestors did before the bird. It decided to fly through the dark clouds instead of descending closer to the mountain. The last thing the bird saw was a yellowish symbol on the mountain’s cliff - maybe a head, it wasn’t clear…

The lone adventurer disappeared in the mass of smoke, and after a few seconds, he appeared again, falling towards the ground. It didn’t move a wing anymore, it sped downwards and finally landed with a soft thud. The bird lay there, surrounded by other dead adventurers who took the same journey as it did.

Why didn’t you turned back, lone adventurer, we could ask…

…The bird wouldn’t say anything anymore. It was just another victim of Rupture Farms…