Published Jul 1st, 2012, 7/1/12 11:53 am
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![[Roleplay] Feudal Tales](https://static.planetminecraft.com/files/banner/170577.png "[Roleplay] Feudal Tales") | |
| Status | Offline Pinged: 03/25/24 |
| Location | United States |
| Game Version | Minecraft Java |
| MOTD | |
| Connect With | |
| Players | 0/44 |
| RID | 1079865 |
Join our Forums: http://www.feudaltales.enjin.com
More information and the application format can be found there!
It had been a long day at work for Brandon, and he was quite tired. The sun had been beating down on his neck for hours, and he could already begin to feel that familiar burning sensation he had every day. As he shoved his hoe into the ground, he put his hands on his hips, and gazed at the land around him. Asatar Fields had once been a bloody battleground, the site of many gruesome conflicts between his people and the Orcs, but now the humans had finally won it. He and his fellow workers had been ordered to till the field, and make it into a new farmland for the kingdom. They had been at the job for a few days now, for the Asatar Fields were massive. They wereno t even halfway done. Brandon took a gulp of water from his canteen, and returned to tilling the soil. It was then that he heard a cry, and looked up from his job yet again. Many of the other farmers were shouting, and sprinting through the fields, pitchforks and hoes in hand. He had no idea what all the commotion was about. Looking to where the desert meets field, his guess was correct.
Warchief Devo nog led his furious horde through the fields, axes raised and fire in their eyes. The war drummers stood beside him, pounding out a steady beat as the bloodthirsty crowd of green-skinned orcs stormed through the fields, ready to make heads roll. The Chieftain wanted the fields back, for they were sacred grounds to their people, and so Devo nog would give the fields to him. They would be splattered with blood, but they would still be theirs. He narrowed his eyes and snorted, seeing the helpless pinkskins fleeing from their jobs. He shouted a command in thick orcish, and two archers knocked a crooked, jagged arrow each, and let them fly. The arrows whistled through the air, and hit their targets, in the legs. They didno t want to kill them so impersonally. They wanted to see the fear in their eyes as their axes split their skulls. Another shout, and the rabble picked up speed, now in a full sprint. The humans stood no chance, and Devo nog knew it. Moments later, blood and gore was flying through the air as the orcish horde claimed their victims, now mangled corpses lying on the ground. A trumpet blared, and a glimmer of blue and white raced down a nearby hill. The reinforcements had arrived.
The horses transitioned into a full gallop, now heading full speed towards the huge mass of green, red, black, and brown. Leading the charge was Sir Davis, a knight famous for his exploits involving the orcs. He had been sent, because he was an expert; no filthy monster could stand up to him. The horses finally collided with the mob, and all hell broke loose. Men screamed, orcs shouted, and horses fell over because their limbs and been removed. Davis watched as his steed, Brightmane, was decapitated swiftly by a ceremonially-dressed orc with warpaint and a huge axe. Brightmaneo s body fell, and so Davis was crushed underneath his weight. His best friend in life had become his downfall in death. Davis yelped, and cried for help, but no one was paying attention- his men were too busy being slaughtered. He then saw the orc that killed Brightmane approach him, grinning, his huge, decorated tusks red with blood. He said something in garbled orcish, laughed, and then brought a huge, metal-plated foot up in the air above Daviso head. Davis stared in horror, swallowed his fears, and closed his eyes. Crunch.
Read more lore on our wiki!: http://www.feudaltales.wikia.com
More information and the application format can be found there!
It had been a long day at work for Brandon, and he was quite tired. The sun had been beating down on his neck for hours, and he could already begin to feel that familiar burning sensation he had every day. As he shoved his hoe into the ground, he put his hands on his hips, and gazed at the land around him. Asatar Fields had once been a bloody battleground, the site of many gruesome conflicts between his people and the Orcs, but now the humans had finally won it. He and his fellow workers had been ordered to till the field, and make it into a new farmland for the kingdom. They had been at the job for a few days now, for the Asatar Fields were massive. They wereno t even halfway done. Brandon took a gulp of water from his canteen, and returned to tilling the soil. It was then that he heard a cry, and looked up from his job yet again. Many of the other farmers were shouting, and sprinting through the fields, pitchforks and hoes in hand. He had no idea what all the commotion was about. Looking to where the desert meets field, his guess was correct.
Warchief Devo nog led his furious horde through the fields, axes raised and fire in their eyes. The war drummers stood beside him, pounding out a steady beat as the bloodthirsty crowd of green-skinned orcs stormed through the fields, ready to make heads roll. The Chieftain wanted the fields back, for they were sacred grounds to their people, and so Devo nog would give the fields to him. They would be splattered with blood, but they would still be theirs. He narrowed his eyes and snorted, seeing the helpless pinkskins fleeing from their jobs. He shouted a command in thick orcish, and two archers knocked a crooked, jagged arrow each, and let them fly. The arrows whistled through the air, and hit their targets, in the legs. They didno t want to kill them so impersonally. They wanted to see the fear in their eyes as their axes split their skulls. Another shout, and the rabble picked up speed, now in a full sprint. The humans stood no chance, and Devo nog knew it. Moments later, blood and gore was flying through the air as the orcish horde claimed their victims, now mangled corpses lying on the ground. A trumpet blared, and a glimmer of blue and white raced down a nearby hill. The reinforcements had arrived.
The horses transitioned into a full gallop, now heading full speed towards the huge mass of green, red, black, and brown. Leading the charge was Sir Davis, a knight famous for his exploits involving the orcs. He had been sent, because he was an expert; no filthy monster could stand up to him. The horses finally collided with the mob, and all hell broke loose. Men screamed, orcs shouted, and horses fell over because their limbs and been removed. Davis watched as his steed, Brightmane, was decapitated swiftly by a ceremonially-dressed orc with warpaint and a huge axe. Brightmaneo s body fell, and so Davis was crushed underneath his weight. His best friend in life had become his downfall in death. Davis yelped, and cried for help, but no one was paying attention- his men were too busy being slaughtered. He then saw the orc that killed Brightmane approach him, grinning, his huge, decorated tusks red with blood. He said something in garbled orcish, laughed, and then brought a huge, metal-plated foot up in the air above Daviso head. Davis stared in horror, swallowed his fears, and closed his eyes. Crunch.
Read more lore on our wiki!: http://www.feudaltales.wikia.com
Additional Notes
New Minecraft Roleplaying server released July 1st, 2012. Join us and expand upon our world as the constant battle between orcs and humans rage.| Tags |
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