A Crack Within Life [OPEN] Sept 14, 2019 9:57:49 GMT -6
Post by Magister Oud on Sept 14, 2019 9:57:49 GMT -6
Magister Oud PL: 30,000 (Base)
The eternal day of Namek kept the lands alight as the three suns of the planet loomed in the horizon—one in the north, one in the east, and one in the west. The only darkness that could be found on the planet was the soft shadows of the smattering of trees and the jagged, risen facias of the hills and cliffs that domed and sloped off of the main landmass. The soft breeze rolled through, caressing the teal-blue grass that gently swayed to one side as the wind rolled through. The subtle smell of the seas and oceans wafted through the air.
The Northern Scar. That was what this place had come to be known as after a catastrophe befell the planet so many centuries ago. It was a time when the planet was on the verge of destruction, almost detonating on itself as the earth cracked, the waters boiled, the mountain were rent asunder, and the skies burned in an infernal cascade. This place still carried with them the scars of that time. Its name was well-deserved.
It was here that the Magister wanted to see first after his year-long exile from his home world. He had always known that this place existed and what it was but he never really came to see it for himself. It was as bad as the stories told, if not worse, though the place was still habitable. His eyes swayed in their sockets from one side to the other, glancing at how much terrain was left untouched by namekian civilization.
This would be the perfect place for him to re-establish and bring together once again the Mazoku. It would be from here that he and his people could live an entirely new life separate from the restricted Warriors and the pious priests of the Dragon Clan. His people could be free to live as they wanted and not how they were expected to.
Oud took steps towards a large flat expanse of the Scar. His eyes followed a small, thin crack in the earth that slightly widened the further he walked. Once he had reached the center of the plain, he gazed upon the shattered ground, cracks formed like a web as though something had struck it hard like a hammer against glass.
”Such a place, all bereft of care and compassion,” he muttered to himself. So much time had passed since that event and yet no one had tried to help this land. Repair it. Nurture it. Give it the respect that it deserved. The Magister scowled at the thought of such abandonment. ”One day, I shall reclaim these lands for the Mazoku. One day, I will create a new life for them—here.”