Seventh Son (Interest Check)

[Echo's Lament]

Hello there. This is actually an interest check for my first rp in FOG. It's something I've been working on for a while now, and I really haven't had the time to really delve much into it as I have been doing for the past couple of days. I was just wondering, after reading a piece of this intro, would anyone be interested in adding to this rp?

It's pretty close-knitted, but what I have in mind for it is for it to sound very much like any epic you read at a bookstore. The bad guys will be npc'd by everyone; I honestly don't know how that will work out, but I'm going to use this one thread as a 'project' of sorts - just to test, to see. Not that this won't be taken seriously. I have every intention of seeing this get somewhere, at least - I hope.

Thoughts, comments, questions, hugs?

In the land of Anamacha, there are people known as the Legacy; historians who hold every bit of the land's history in the depths of their archives. Every name accountable, every purpose known, every single thing filed into neat packages placed on hundreds upon hundreds of bookshelves. They are also known to write their own thoughts down: prophecies, one could say. Of course, whether a certain prophecy was real or just the rambling thoughts of a Legacy could never be known until the prophecy itself was put into play. Some go on thinking nothing of it; some go to great lengths to prove a prophecy right or wrong. Whether or not a prophecy was true, the people of Anamacha respected the Legacy greatly and placed them above even a king or a queen; after all, history, and the magic behind it, meant very much to them.

Then, one day, another prophecy was written by the oldest of Legacies. Gelbard, the truest of prophets and wisest of them all, awoke in a fit – screaming and lashing out at all those who tended him. “A quill!” He cried out. “Give me a quill, quickly!” And they did, knowing the command behind the urgency. The other Legacies watched as their elder scribbled along the walls of his room, splattered ink all over his nightclothes without a care in the world; which said much, for Gelbard was a man of impeccable taste and cleanliness. To even spill a droplet of ink on himself was unheard of. Compelled by whatever dream spell that took him, the elder wrote and wrote and wrote until mid-morning the next day. When he finally collapsed into a heap on the floor, his whole room was covered in symbols no one could understand, let alone read.

No one could ask the prophet what it meant either; for in that moment, Gelbard simply... died. There were no words to express the disbelief of such an event and the great sorrow that came soon afterward. It was so sudden; too sudden. No one wanted to believe what was before their very eyes. Gelbard the Wise, Gelbard the Great, Gelbard the True Prophet left them with but a mass of unidentifiable symbols of a dying man's last dream. Gelbard who had laughed with them, ate with them, spoke of epic adventures in the histories to them, taught them all... was gone. In the end, despite the growing chaos among the Legacies over his death, the prophet was laid to rest with the highest honor.

His prophecy, however, went untranslated for many years to come.

What they did not know, could not know, the only thing a great prophet like Gelbard would know was that the reason it could not be translated was because it was in a language far different from the words of Anam. Languages, to be exact. In a separate place, beyond space and time, these languages could only be found in one place. One world: Earth. From Japanese to Egyptian to Samoan to Spanish to Gaelic to modern English, Gelbard had written the prophecy again and again. Perhaps he did it knowingly, to show the magnitude of the prophecy that overtook him; perhaps he did it as a catalyst, moved by the magic of the words and the meaning, to bring this one prophecy into power; perhaps he did it as a warning, that Anamacha will never be the same again.

'Upon the birth of the seventh son, the heavens will be filled with the terrible song of war, and the lands stained with the touch of death. The time of the Legacies shall come to an end... and thus begin the reign of the Horsemen. Through the walls of time and space, seven will arrive to do the bidding of the last Legacy. Three to protect; three to sacrifice; one to lead. Of the protectors, two with hair of sunlight shall cross great distances to bring the Virtues of Fire. Of the sacrifices, two with opposing ideals shall gain acceptance among enemies turn friend and bring the Virtues of Water One protector shall ride the Dunes and take hold of the Virtue of Earth. One sacrifice will fall at the hands of Sin, but in doing so, gain the Virtues of Spirit. The leader will stand his own trials and bring together what is and what is not, what will be and what will not be. Through death and destruction, they will rise. Through hardship and heartache, they will proceed.

'Upon the first winter's snow fall, all shall come to a stand still. The one in red will appease the people and bring the wrath upon them all, signaling the beginning of the last battle. Together the Seven Suns of the Mirror will stand victorious; separated, all is lost – and the Four Moons of Anam will reign forever. The one to lead will come blade to blade with the one to end and then, only then, will the fate of all worlds be settled. Two worlds will come together, and the seventh son shall rule them all with his protectors by his side.

'So shall a new age begin.'

And, like clockwork, one hundred years after the preordained coming of the seventh son, war in Anamacha began with clans from foreign lands only known as The Hourglass. Armed with supernatural weaponry that made an ominous ringing sound before spilling blood of the enemy, The Hourglass – led by four men with lethal weapons of their own – stormed the shorelines and entered the kingdom without further ado. Within the year of their arrival, half of Anamacha was under enemy control. A few months after that, the archives of the Legacy were torn asunder; many of the prophets killed and hunted afterward. Within weeks of the Legacies' downfall, The Hourglass set up their own headquarters in place of the Archives. The histories, all of which were beloved and cherished by the people of Anam, were destroyed.

To counteract any threat that came their way, such as the last Legacies, the four leaders of the Hourglass set out a group of terrifying, magical beings known as the Horsemen: a group of powerful warriors who were trained, from the time they could walk, to hunt, track and kill with no remorse. Only they are able to hold weapons as swift and deadly as the four leaders, lovingly called Sin. Each Sin, powered by bathing in the life of those it kills and quenched with the souls it absorbs, is partnered to each Horseman like a lover; for within each weapon, a piece of their own soul is taken to complete the contract of a Horseman.

Across Anamacha they searched, ending all possible rebellions before it could even begin. People trembled at the sight of them, cowered whenever they were near and lost all hope when they killed yet another of their precious Legacies. With Sin as the focal point of their power and the imposing threat they stood for, not even the hardiest of soldiers within Anamacha's army stood against them. In their eyes, all was lost, all had ended, and nothing could ever stop the force of The Hourglass. Within a space of a few moments, at the mere sight of these harbingers of death, the people of Anam surrendered and bowed their heads to the enemy.

However, despite the Horsemen and their skill, one Legacy slipped under the radar with the King and his family in tow.

That is where our story begins.

[Guest]

I really, really love the plot. But I'm in the final stretches of school at the moment...and I'm not sure if I would have time afterward either. I just wanted to say that you have a potentially wonderful story here and, time permitting, I would love to be a part of it. Unfortunately, I can't.

[Echo's Lament]

Thank you! :3 I'm sorry that you can't join, but school is important so good luck, dear!

Thank you again. :]

[Guilty Carrion]

0.0

So, I sign where exactly? In blood?

Count me in. This looks intense.

[Echo's Lament]

Hahaha, well, it's not a sign up. I want to make sure enough people are interested before I do anything more with this. If this is a go, I'll definitely make a sign-up in ooc. :]

Thanks for the interest! -keepin' mental tally-

[Shadow Moonseye]

That was quite lovely! Let me officially express my interest here!

[Echo's Lament]

Duly noted! Thank you! :]

[Bird of Hermes]

I am interested as well.

[Echo's Lament]

Woohoo!

Another tally. I suppose a couple more would seal the deal; in which case, I suppose I should get to writing.

Thank you! :]

[Guest]

If this gets toward you needing one or two more...I might have to. Maybe. I shouldn't...

Edit: Count me in. Shhh...don't tell Ryona.

[SpaceWheeler2.0]

I'm along the same lines as Silvone... I absolutely love the plot, and your intro is superbly written. However, I don't want to ensnare myself in too many stories and then not be able to deliver for any of them in a decent time frame. If you come down to needing to fill those last couple spots, do let me know and I would be glad to join.

[pythia]

:3

I am in, naturally love. <3

[Julian]

Yo yo yo, this looks HAWT.

Count me in, yea.

[Guest]

I am really too busy to take on another thread. I am already barely posting in some of mine.

But this looks really good. If this doesn't actually start till the end of next week I could be in it.

[Guest]

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. YES! (See what I did there?)

[Cypher]

Interest is officially piqued. Sign me up.

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