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The New Origin

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From: GreatMasterHIM | Posted: 1/10/2004 10:17:09 PM | Message Detail

(OOC: This RPG takes place about two thousand years in the future. Unless your character is or is likely to become immortal before they drop dead, they’re dead unless they happen to live for 2,000 plus years. Plus, this is also a serious RPG, but not one that requires you to pump out endless detail. Now that that’s over with, on with the shoe.) Introduction “We all begin with good intent, but some of us lose our way. It’s those who lose their way that shape what tomorrow is.” ~ Chapter 3 introduction, Angel’s Sword Throughout history, since the time mortals began to ponder what was beyond their view of sight, there have been legends. The HIM Saga is one such legend. The story of a mere mortal exceeding the heights of marvel and ability, to the point that no other mortal before had achieved what he had. His story is one of heroism and demonic evil, and everything in between. During the time he lives, one was hard pressed to find a single person of any flavor that did not know of his adventures. But like all things that became legend, he was once forgotten… However, the story of how he became legend cannot be properly discussed unless his weapon is also spoken of, for in many ways, this legend was also the doing of this weapon. It is called Blade, a sword created by angels and demons, meant to slay Gods. It was also imbued with the power to change the destiny of all those who wielded it or were cut by it. HIM was one of these people, and his legend is proof of the weapon’s power. Together, HIM and Blade altered the course of history forever, their saga coming to a close when HIM faced his ultimate challenge… After battling and defeating his dark side, Zechariah, HIM perished. His magical weapon, Blade, disappeared. Every trace of his creations, ranging from his lab to the advanced weapon WarMech, faded away with time. Memory of his actions and his life waned like moon; eventually, few remembered even his name. None remembered his legend. Despite all that he had done from the destruction of a universe to The Time Wars, a series of epic battles that decided the fate of time itself, one thousand years was enough to erase him from history. People went on with their lives, and nothing remained the same during those thousand years. Civilizations that stood for a million years fell, and the face of entire worlds were changed forever as they were populated…or depopulated. Legends in many places became a thing of the past as advanced people began learning the mere facts of the universe, slowly pushing out everything that was considered mystical about the world around them.

From: GreatMasterHIM | Posted: 1/10/2004 10:17:39 PM | Message Detail

Perhaps driven by the boredom brought about by his immortality, the living legend Heavyarms, under the assumed name of “The Windy Author,” wrote many books during the three hundred years after the death of his last close friend, Wolfgang Visarett. No one knew how or why his books appeared where they did, neatly piled up on a publishers desk, but it was clear he was an excellent writer. His books became legendary, with the first editions being worth billions. The books came out one a decade or so, sometimes stretching as long as five before another appeared. Through some reason or another, Heavyarms began to notice something was missing from the world, something that his novels could not bring back on their own…the urge for adventure, the urge to imagine, to dream…were no longer prevalent as they were when he was a young man. Then he began to think about his old friend HIM, someone that he was more often than not at odds with, and began to think about the adventure that he had lived, what he had seen, what he had done, and came to the conclusion that what the present needed was a story so epic that it would reawaken the imagination in even the most scientific mind. Spending many years collecting information on HIM and finally stumbling upon some of HIM’s own notes, he began to write the first of a series of novels describing the legend’s life. After a hundred years without a book released in his name, he finally completed the first novel and sent it on its way. The impact was immediate: people craved more. They saw something in that out of the way, fanciful tale of a boy who was stabbed through the heart with a sword of destiny and ended up living a million different lives. Heavyarms was not one to disappoint, after all, he too saw something in the notes left by HIM, a trace of sadness and pain that made Heavyarms continue writing the story even on the worst of days. Eventually, twelve novels were completed with an additional book called “The Definitions FAQ,” describing in detail the characters, worlds, and universes the books took place in. Together, known as the “HIM Saga”, they became a phenomenon. Things that were impossible were no longer impossible…things that were lost were regained. People, due to these books alone, began to dream again. Heavyarms turned HIM from a forgotten historical figure into a legend. The last thing Heavyarms wrote in the final book of the series, “End of a legacy”, was that legends never die. As long as they are never forgotten, they can never disappear completely. He then added 36 blank pages and dedicated them to HIM in case he was ever to return. But still, it was to great surprise that one of these books, an original copy in fact, arrived at Heavyarms’ doorstep more than a thousand years after it was printed. It was even more surprising that a letter was found inside. The contents of this letter are not as important as the message they pointed to, on the first page of the 36 blank pages… “For all tales afterward, I dedicate to my friend, Heavyarms.” And this is the first of those tales, dedicated not only to Heavyarms, but also to all the dreamers, to all the people who have fantasies, and most of all…to those who wish to have legends of their own.

From: GreatMasterHIM | Posted: 1/10/2004 10:18:28 PM | Message Detail

The New Origin “No man can win a battle by himself. Only when he has his friends by his side and the memory of his loved ones in his heart can he bring victory.” ~ Chapter 26 introduction, Battle of Time’s Destiny, The Time Wars Placing the old, dusty book with a red cover aside, he stretches and yawns in the giant library. The thousand years of dust shake a little from this movement of air, some to the point they slide off the books they cover in a great avalanche. He sneezes several times from the thick dust that covers the entire room due to this before covering his mouth and making his way towards an oddly dustless part of the room. He carries the red covered book with him and places it in its proper area once he enters the dustless area, whatever magic within this book and its fellows preventing them from being forever scarred like the other books. He brushes off his grey sweater along with his cameos while removing any dust from the books that happened to invade during this latest dust disaster, wanting to keep them pristine in the hopes that their original master would eventually arrive to look at his artwork again. Several shafts of light suddenly burst into the room as if commanded by the heavens, the only window not blocked off finally being hit by the Sun’s light once again in this early morning. He sighs, happily, gazing over once again what was no less than the greatest of artwork, equaling at least the brilliance of Shakespeare in its emotion and style. Smiling, he carries on about his business once the rest of the dust comes down, moving over and digging out a backpack that was completely buried under several weeks worth of dust. As the last bits of dust are removed, items are quickly placed within it that were taken from another dust free location somewhere in the giant and endless halls of the library. Some canned food, lighters, a couple knives, and a gun are just a few of the items slid within its sleep navy-style folds. As his slides it on his back, he grabs the plain leather sheath of a broadsword and clips it to his left side, near where the golden buckle to his belt lays. As he begins heading toward the ladder that leads up to the window, he stops for a moment, and, almost as if it were destined to happen, walks over and takes the same book that he before so carefully placed with the others. Slipping it into his backpack along with a pen, he seems satisfied and begins heading up the ladder to the outside world.

From: GreatMasterHIM | Posted: 1/10/2004 10:19:14 PM | Message Detail

Shielding his eyes from the early morning sun, he enters a world that was once a place he considered home. A world that was once considered a place of insanity and craziness…as he erects himself, now standing above the long buried library’s roof, he looks out over the grassy forest with ruins interspaced at even intervals, he for the first time really understands that this was once…Random Insanity City. This, the forested and buried ruin of was once the most lively place he had ever visited. Trees a thousand years old grow out of the concrete skeletons of buildings, while the great structures of the city have long since turned to dust. If it were not for the fact he learned a great many things on his trip here, to this derelict and ruined city, a civilization in its own right, he would be utterly clueless as to his next step.

From: GreatMasterHIM | Posted: 1/10/2004 10:19:41 PM | Message Detail

The people who lived here were not totally lost; no, they continue to live on, albeit primitively, in hundreds of small villages throughout the world. The level of technology present in these villages varies greatly, but even the most advanced village is nothing compared to giant floating cities in the sky, called Pendulums. They float among the clouds and are either an attempt by another culture to live on this world, or are the result of whatever destroyed Random Insanity City. And whatever destroyed the city, whether by war, famine, or possibly simply moving on, is what he would now find out. As the warm wind of the forest hits his face, he turns north, towards the place where one of the more advanced villages lays, hidden deep within the RI Mountains. It is in this village that there is supposedly contact between the people living on the ground and those living in the Pendulums. But for now, as his feet break a stray twig of two in half, the most worrisome thought in his mind is if whether or not the letter he wrote a few days before had gotten to its recipient…

From: GreatMasterHIM | Posted: 1/11/2004 1:42:25 PM | Message Detail

“Love is the rarest and greatest of all things. And losing true love is something worse than death.” ~ Chapter 6 introduction, Eve of the end, The Time Wars Several hours have past since he left that old, dusty library buried under a thousand years worth of dirt and plants, the sun now rising towards its zenith with a quick pace. But despite having spent several hours on the walk, he is still within Random Insanity City limits, now in the residential section up in the hills where houses long destroyed wait in tombs similar to the one that held the library in place. He occasionally sees a chimney, or a smokestack, or another such thing peeking up from the ground, and even then it is the place of bats or nesting birds. He pondered several times jumping down a chimney to see what awaits him inside, whether there would be ruin or a house filled with the last treasures of a disappearing or dying society, but he’s resisted the urge. As to why, he does not quite know. Possibly because his mind continues to run despite the sleep he has, making any small area a place where his thoughts would build up and overflow his conciousness. Small animals run from him as he passes, fearful of the odd thing on two legs passing them; for most of these creatures, they have never seen a human, nor have the past five hundred generations of their family. The populations of humans, demi humans, and other species on the Random Insanity world is far less than it was when the great Random Insanity City stood, and even the sparse populations that still exist do so in fear of ruins such as RI City. Because of ghosts, or demons, or curses, they said to him as he passed through their villages on his first journey in this brave new world utterly confused as to what it was and what it meant. It took him a week of discussing with local officials to figure out roughly where he was in time, and needless to say, he was shocked when he heard that two thousand years had passed since his duel with Zechariah, both his dark side and the martyr of angels. He wondered what passed since those days, so long ago, so he embarked on a Rai Tiln; a technique used by the long-extinct Dragoni race to peer into their soul and view all things that have happened in regards to it. What he found was a tale of places and people that were created from his memories and emotions. The raw feelings attached to his entire life during its twenty thousand years in existence went into this place, known in this dream as the “Star Road.” Heavyarms was there as his best friend, an orphan as he was, and fellow bounty hunter. The wife he once held dear and brought two children into the world with, Samantha, played the part of the princess that began the saga for him. Because of her love and her death, he traveled the star road and the universes it was attached to, Heavyarms faithfully following him no matter how horrible things got. Zecheriah was also there, at the end of this journey, to challenge HIM once again. He had survived being destroyed and became a cancerous memory, his desire being to destroy HIM’s dream and conquer it before entering into the ‘real world’, if such a thing can exist, to continue the ultimate judgment. This was the true final battle between he and HIM, but he could never win. As long as Heavyarms was by his side and his friend, Zechariah was doomed to defeat. As Zechariah fell to the ground in a heap, the one who created this life for HIM faded into existence: The Time Lord, a being of infinite power. He has done all of it for HIM’s sake, wishing to show the man a world of dreams, where only his story would be important to him. It was to calm his heart and mind after the Hell of the previous 20,000 year long life, something that succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. By being removed from all the expectations, the goal, the memories of a life filled with chaos and destruction, HIM was finally able to see outside of the memories and have all scars removed that were once inhibitions to his ability to live a life anything other than a warrior.

From: GreatMasterHIM | Posted: 1/11/2004 1:54:00 PM | Message Detail

As The Time Lord faded away, HIM walked back to Heavyarms and said “Let’s go home.” He lived a hundred year life after this, raising children and helping in taking care of the grandkids. Eventually, though, his mortal days came to an end. As he was lowered into the grave during the beautiful funeral participated by everyone that once loved or hated him, Heavyarms made a single wish as tears rolled down his cheeks. This wish, this single, solitary, beautiful wish, tore apart time and space to retrieve HIM’s soul and send it back to where it was once before: the place where he died in his previous life. This wish…this wish had powers beyond that of the Gods, for it was the power of friendship and a bonding that goes deeper than anything that can be described. “May your journey continue…”

From: GreatMasterHIM | Posted: 1/11/2004 1:54:46 PM | Message Detail

He woke up on the grassy ground, exactly where he had fallen in a bloody heap two thousand years before. But instead of the rotting infrastructure where a lab once stood, there was a giant tree growing from the exact spot where his weapon, Blade, had fallen to the ground after the final duel with Zechariah. It was only through the Rai Tiln that he discovered everything in between those two moments, between one death and one life. And even though the Heavyarms of this world, the one that wrote those books, does not know of anything that happened, HIM knows that all the people that were created were formed from the cores of their characters, and Heavyarms was no different. Whether or not he was different, he still had the core values of the greatest friend, someone willing to die for his friends and allies, whether or not he was asked to do so.

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