The Return of a Lone Miner

[Noer 577]

Asgoslav woke, his eyes opening for the first time in years. His sweat dripped from his brow, his mouth quivering as he rose. He looked at the world around him, and the possessions of his at his feet, and furrowed his brow as his face was filled with confusion. He had awoken in a land, far too strange for his taste, somewhere on the border of reality and fantasy. The realm had trees like his, the water completely normal, yet the geography was random, with mountains in places next to plains, and deserts cut off directly by grass. It was  a strange land, a strange land indeed.

Asgoslav looked upon the world, seeing strange beings float by in the air, translucent and seemingly insentient, floating by as he walked. He felt hungry, yet the grass would not harbor him wheat. He grew tired, yet the ground was hard and unforgiving, so he marched onward. He held a pickaxe in hand, his only weapon as he stumbled upon the opening to a cavern so grand and intricate that he did not know how he failed to lose his bearings once he entered it.
 

 

The cave held more iron than he had ever seen in his life. He walked through it, mining as he went, and his pickaxe did not seem to break, and his stomach stayed in its state of contentedness as he ran faster and faster. He recalled his life as he walked, first the life of a rebel, then the life of a auxiliary, and then, finally, the life of a soldier for a just cause, the only cause, the cause of The Creator.

He watched the cave stop abruptly, only to give way to a grand ravine, which he extracted the iron from with haste. The iron was much like the one from his normal world, the one of Athera, yet he felt as if it weren't real, for some reason.

He mined and mined, somehow discovering over some 300 veins, to which he extracted to his pleasure. Mining, he thought, was the must satisfying thing a man can do, something to take his mind off the war that his life was plagued by.

Just as he was about through, in front of him appeared a grand portal. The portal was strange, and to which its origins no man would know, yet he knew it was godly at least.

Out of the portal stepped his father, a man by the name of George Drakonscar, a man whom he held such disdain for that he would never speak of him with any of his friends.

"Asgorath, your time has come." Said the apparition, its ghostly figure walking through the pillars of stone around him, floating up to Asgoslav.

"I will not go wherever you may, filth." He retorted, disgust on his face as he looked upon the man.

"I will not go with you to this land, for it is for those whom have something to prove. You died far too soon, Asgorath, fighting for men whom you worshipped like the Creator himself. It is time, my son, for you to make a difference."

As he said this, the man disappeared, and Asgoslav stood in front of the portal, looking into it. He saw his death, as an orc lay impaled next to him, and a dwarf without an arm fleeing like a wounded deer. He saw the breath leave his body as his life did, and he looked back at the apparition that was there only moments ago. He took a step, walking up to the portal, and put his hand through. "I shall return to this world, and I shall make amends."

 

(TLDR/OOC:)
I was recently unbanned, and when I logged on for the first time I was on Asgoslav's persona, in a strange MC generated world on the server. So, like any normal person, I explored, found stuff, and was warped back to spawn.

 

It's good to be back.

Edited September 5, 2015 by Kid Mackin

[Elad™ 560]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.