Stand To!
For the Clan. For the Queen. For a halfways-decent scone.
It is the year 2085 of the Round World.
It’s been 70 years since her Royal Majesty Queen Toria of Ankh, Empress of the Ankh Morpork Dominions came to power, succeeding Lord Vetinari after the Patrician’s mysterious disappearance.
Coupled with the support of the many houses of Lords, as well as (eventually) that of the guilds of the city, her reign has been overwhelmingly supported. Even the many kingdoms north of her capital have sworn loyalty to her rule and welcome the return of a royal bloodline.
During the last 70 years, Her Majesty has expanded her Empire and engulfed the Hub of the world with her steam engines, clacks towers and very modern approach to warfare. An understanding with the Tezuman Empire, Klatch and the Agatean Empire has brought prosperity but there are still hearts she is to conquer.
But she has faced challenges; a perhaps hasty expansion of influence into the High Ramptops led to a clash with the Lords and Ladies, leading to the first blooding of the Empress’s armies. Growth and progress, too, brought its own problems. As Ankh Morpork swelled with population and industry, discontent simmered. As the Empire aged and changed, many began to yearn for the ‘old days’, and the non-human races found themselves blamed for the changes in the world. As trouble ensued, many fled the city and returned to their ancestral homes, leaving the city watch and other government services undermanned for a shoot time.
That is when it happened…a portal, known as The Gate opened south of Borogravia and a horde of screaming Orcs poured forth… thousands of ’em!
Not caring who they attacked and with no strategic purpose other than total war upon the unfortunate, their blood-curdling and terrifying battle cries could be heard across all of Her Majesty’s western lands. The future looked bleak.
A year later and with an army of 10,000 conscripted Redcoats, the Empress of Ankh defeated the invasion of their enemy on the banks of the River Smarl. Her generals now look towards The Gate, which remains open, and are ready to take the fight back to the Evil Empire that blighted so much of her realm.
With flag, tiffin and many a hot beverage, it’s time to take the fight back to the enemy and assault Orcland. Stand To, Redcoats!
Inspired by the work, world and wonders of Terry Pratchett, this is our homage to all his characters – an adventure set in a possible future for his world, against a new but ancient enemy.
Starting off in Sir Terry’s Disc World, this event will take players seventy years into the future of Ankh Morpork and through a portal into a little known and mostly unexplored land, the New World. Well, new to players on one side… for those wanting to play Orcs, it’s where your players started before a fierce but ultimately failed invasion onto the Disc!
We have chosen this setting rather than a the actual Discworld for two reasons. Firstly, we love the novels and lore of the books and it means as much to us as we are sure it does for so many of the players, and we don’t want to mess with the canon. Secondly, we want to create a setting where players can take their love of the Discworld, spread it with a massive dollop of imagination and role-play and see where it goes – we’re hoping to set up a canvas for you to paint your own vision of the Disc on.
So, seventy years on from the Ankh Morpork of Vetenari, Vimes and Rincewind, the players will travel through a gate takes the adventuring people of the Disk into the new world an uncharted and un-described place.
This will be a PvP experience, based on the EYELarp Rules-Lite ethos, with a few tweaks to take account of the PvP elements. For example, we will be setting up separate camps for each playing group which will be far enough apart for encounters and role-play to happen inbetween as well as at each camp. We will also have some very light-touch hit and buff rules, though as always React to Everything, Don’t Expect a Reaction will be the foundation. See the rules sections on the website for more details; we expect to develop the rules as the games go on, based on feedback from players, and how things develop on the ground.
Our first event focuses on the Regiments of Ankh Morpork advancing through the Portal known as ‘The Gate’ to meet up with a small expeditionary force that had previous gone through, chasing back a failed invasion by a massive horde of Orcs.
That expedition will, of course, come face to face with the orcs on their home turf! Based around three clans, they are not uncivilised. They have a well developed culture, a history of great works of literature and art, can read and write and all the other things considered a trapping of civilisation, but still choose to base their society on the ties of blood, tribe and clan.
In the second episode, we will see many other fun character types entering the New World, but to begin with the regiments are filled with Red (or Blue) coats and the Orc Tribes are full of warriors…. and both will be full of characters shaped by the wit and wisdom of Terry Pratchett.
Each Regiment is funded and lead by a Lord of the Realm who has sworn loyalty undying and undead to Her Majesty Queen Toria, Empress of the Circle Sea and the Ankh Morpork Dominion.
Each regiment is made up of a Captain, A Leftenant and a Rightenant, Sergeants, Corporals and Rifles.
The Nation is made up of many tribes, and each tribe of many clans.
Each clan comprises a Chief, Shaman and warriors. The ideal number to a clan is 10+; anything less in a clan means no shaman! Unlike the Regiments, clans vote in a Chief at each gathering; if democracy fails and the vote is tied the nominees decide the winner the ancient way: Rock, Paper, Knife.
Film-sim is a rules-lite theatrical, cinematic style of play adopted across the board by EYELarp. There are few calls, and a slight-touch hit point system. EYELarp aims to encourage epic role-play and an organic style of story-telling, to make combat exciting and minimise number-crunching found in other systems. Rather than a list of calls and hit-points to memorise, we base everything around one key approach: “React to everything, but don’t expect a reaction”.
Stand To! has a few specific rules covering safety and game play.
Weapons for hand to hand MUST be LARP safe!
Gonnes must be party-popper / cap guns – we would much prefer people to use LARP safe gonnes, too. Airsoft weapons are completely forbidden. 99.99% of gonnes in use are flintlock, either pistol or rifle. There are a TINY number of revolver-type pistols in existence, and are only owned by the MASSIVELY rich.
Ammo for gonnes WILL be restricted – supplies have to be carried a long way! We will be handing out chits to manage this. There are seperate rules for revolvers IF one appears…
Faction-specific weapons are listed in their kit sections.
As with all EYELarp events, fighting style is epic and heroic – blows must be pulled, but no tippytappy; if the hit looks like it would just have been a scratch, then it was!
Players who do not wish to engage in combat will wear a Green armband. (We would usually use red, but green will stand out better on regimental uniforms)
Also, the Rule of Cool is in play – you may gain perks or buffs for cool roleplaying and giving other players an awesome experience – even if it’s the way you are dying! The best way to to earn these is to give other players an awesome experience.
As this is a PvP experience, we will be using lite hit rules. Every weapon does one hit. You cannot spam hits. See the hero-fighting section above!
Humans have take 2 hits, Orcs have 3. When you have taken your last hit you must fall over. If a friendly soldier or warrior can get to you, they can tie a bandage around the wound and you can carry on with one more hit – but remember to role-play the wounds!
This can continue until your comrades run out of bandages or you have a total of 5 bandages on, at which point the Mummy Effect takes place – you can move, but only stiffly and with a massive groan with every gesture. Next hit, you’re down.
If you are hit and no-one can get to you to bandage you, you will bleed out after five minutes.
Healing and Removing Bandages
Only a surgeon or a shaman can take bandages off a wounded player, and replace them with a bloody red one. This bandage stays on until death or the next game – it permanently counts as one of your five bandages.
There will some special effects that influence the amount of hits a faction gets.
For the regiments of the Ankh Morpork army, close harmony singing or the presence of a tea trolley close by may have an effect.
For the Clans of the Orc nations, the presence of their Clan banner, a Shamanic spell or Music with Rocks being playing through a disorganizer may work.
Gonnes are not a machine; they are also heavily imbued with the Headology of the Round World.
When a Gonnes is fired, it ‘MIGHT’ hit the target – which becomes ‘should’ if the target sees it fired in their direction and the headology magic comes into action. This also proves the theory of the magic round when 5 enemies are hit by one shot! Gonnes must be reloaded with more magic powder after each shot – this is a laborious procedure. There is no limit to the range of a Gonne!
The regiments also have ‘BIG GONNE’S’ that fire massive magical rounds into areas, leaving huge splashes of magic where they land. These are called Arty Gonne’s.
A relatively new innovation in the Round World are fast-firing Revolving Gonnes. Rarer that Hens’ teeth and costing more than a mouthful of troll gnashers, only the richest of the rich can afford them. Some commentators have noted that only the richest of the rich would want a gonne that can only be fired 6 times before the headology is exhausted and it reverts to being a costly paperweight.
Orcs are tough and use shields, leather armour and hand weapons of all kinds for close up, with bows and javelins for longer range. They can take a good three hits before dying.
Clan Shamans fight alongside their clans and use earth magic to heal their warriors. They can also manipulate the earth within a short distance by stamping their feet and shouting. These power is gifted each day, but is not unlimited. For every sacrifice they make the more power they get
More information on Shamanic powers will be added soon.
This first event is all about WARGH!!!
Friday night will unfold in the camps, though scouts from both factions will explore the surroundings to mark key locations on maps and allow plans to be made.
Five locations will be fought over all day Saturday, seeking to gain control of the valley and surrounding areas via a simple capture the flag, replace it with yours mechanic. Resources will be awarded for holding locations , supporting the overall war effort.
Both sides will have regen pots/carts/backpacks filled with chips, which will manage the return to battle of casualties, as well as represent the fates of battle. When all the chips have gone the regiment or clan has run out of troops and resources and cannot continue. They must withdraw from the battlefield and return to their camp to gather more!
Everyone will retire to their camps and to debate (and possibly celebrate) and will be given a debrief…this will primarily be a social time but plot might still happen in camps and ‘small war’ might still happen out in Nobody’s Ground. Also, all the resources and awards will be given to the leaders to share out amongst their troops.
THE FINAL BATTLE!
At the first event, the outcome of this battle will set the foundation for the next plot arc – telling the tale of the battle of Orcs Drift. This must, and will, BE EPIC!
All Empire of Ankh Morpork players have been conscripted into one of the following contingents. Regardless of what the player’s character was before the Act of Conscription, they are now a Red (or possibly Blue) coated soldier of Her Majesty Queen Toria! Base kit guide is a red (or Blue) coat, pith helmet and sash in regimental colours. Other kit is at player’s discretion, so long as it is line with Mr Pratchett’s works which are inspiring this game; we are aiming for Georgian through late Victorian.
Weapons are LARP-safe melee and muskets, or period cap guns – though we would much prefer that ALL weapons are LARP safe to avoid potential confusion in the heat of the moment. Sergeants may carry boarding axes or pikes (colours, for the protection of). Officers may carry swords (posing, for the purposes of). Other ranks may have short swords or hatchets (fighting, actual doing of) as well as the ubiquitous bayonet. (NB: Other ranks’ slang refers to their bayonets as ‘Grockle Stickers’ in honour of the famed Pte Wright, who once used his bayonet to single handedly protect the baggage convoy at the Battle of Grockle, during the second Tsortian pacification.
However, as the power of the Act wanes somewhat, a trifle of the character’s previous life is beginning to shine through. All characters can, for the first, have one or more item of clothing or possession reflecting their previous life – a notepad and quill for a writer, a lantern for a watchman etc.
Some reference pics for the regiments can be found here
The Regiments That Marched Beyond The Gate
Ankh’s Dapper Crust Light Dragoons
Motto: ‘Jam before Cream’
Red Coats and ostentatiously clean Pith Helmets, with a White and Red Sash. Officers keen on feathers.
The Leaky Valley Regiment
Motto: ‘Better in than out’
Red Coats and utilitarian light brown Pith Helmets, with a White and Green Sash
Morpork Scrumble Foot.
Motto: ‘Cream before Jam’
Rounder-than-normal pith helmets. Red Coats with black and white facings, and significant cuffs. White and Red Sash. A lower, or at least more forgiving, grooming standard than other regiments.
Blue coats, with pink facings or sash
Blue coats with Green sash of facings
Orcs come in all shapes and sizes, with skin tones ranging from black through to white and all shades in between. Despite the expectations set by the legends of the Round World, no green orcs have been sighted. Orcs have gnarled, twisted features and thick skins, with a whole range of hair styles. As a guide for the look, think LOTR orcs.
Intriguingly, some orcs appear to have taken to wearing the faces of other orcs over their own, sometimes fashioned into helmets. Whilst observers have no clear idea as to the cause of this, they have postulated that it may have something to do with either a) worship of a deity or b) fashion. Either way, the end effect is that these orcs appear to have heavier brows, squarer jaws and more pronounced tusks.
Kit wise, orcs tend towards leather garb and armour, along with chain – either as maille or just, well, because. They have not been seen to use heavier metal plate armour. They are almost exclusively found using melee weapons, along with shields. Gonnes appear to have been a new experience for them, and their use by orcs remains rare; this is believed to be due to lack of supply, rather than ability.
The horde that poured into the Round World upon the opening of the gate appeared to (surviving) observers to be made up of three main contingents.
Reference pics for Orc kit can be found here.
Sigil: An open palmed hand
The Tribe of Kno are bruisers, infamous for marching towards the sound of gonnefire and getting up close and personal with the enemy.
They are almost invariably decked out in heavy leather and chain armour and tooled up the nines with anything sharp and slicey or blunt and battery. Their massed ranks are the bludgeon of the orc tribes, holding the centre of the battle line and always in the thick of the fighting.
The many Clans of K’no chant their clan names with pride across the valleys, mountains and lakes of their homeland always finishing with a shout to their Tribe (in practice, any time one of their number hears their tribal name used, all within earshot immediately shout it in response) They are savage fighters and use their screams to stunt their enemy’s morale.
Sigil: Crossed knives
The Tribe of the Beared are renowned for fastidious, dapper dressing. They expend hours constructing elaborate and often gravity-defying hairstyles, often accompanied by sharply-tailored. outfits.The Orcs of the Beared tribe use fine oils and waxes to look as smart as possible. All the Beard Clans are very competitive and are as ferocious as they are well groomed. They are extremely fond of pin-stripes and polished leather, and appear to have adopted several Round World styles, not least the traditional flat cap.
The Tribe of Beared adore short, sharp weapons and close fighting, getting in close and carving up their foe with razor-edge blades. They are happiest fighting in cities, and have by far the biggest baggage train of any of the tribes.
Unfortunately, they are also easily the most narcissistic of the Orc tribes; some have said the most dangerous place in the Round World is between a member of the Tribe of T’Rim and a mirror.
Sigil: A horned ram’s skull under a Teepee symbol
The first orcs out of the Gate were members of the Sh’pee T’pee. Lightly armed and fleet of foot, these nomadic orcs fanned out from the portal and charged ahead of their heavier compatriots. These travelling Orcs of the tundra and wastelands are brutal in everyway. Their clan raiding parties were the first to attack the farmsteads and towns of Borogravia and revealed the devastation that was to come from the horde following them.
Observers soon noted that the Sh’pee T’pee carry everything they own with them, upping sticks and moving their encampments almost at a whim.
Lightly armed and armoured, they formed the flanks and scouts of the orc lines, finding and fixing their enemies before guiding Kno and Beared clans in to the fray. They are famed for their work with javelin and bow, but are not to be ignored when things go hand to hand.
Perhaps because of their nomadic ways, the Sh’Pee T’pee appear to have developed their own sign language. Observers have noted that often members of the tribe will conduct hidden conversations with their own whilst otherwise conversing with other orcs. These conversations often seem to lead to a stifled laughter.
The Patrician vanished without warning on the night of 25th May 2015.
His Clerks found nothing but a piece of paper tucked under the final Troll piece remaining on his Thud board, surrounded by a large number of Dwarven pieces. The sheet of paper, blank but for a single V, was framed and kept for posterity, hung above a bust of Vetenari in the main entrance hall of the Patrician’s palace.
For a few weeks, the Clerks kept the Patrician’s absence quiet, but were eventually forced to announce the news after a ‘Where be thee, Vetenari?’ editorial in the Ankh Morpork Times forced the issue.
Sensing a power vacuum, the various Guilds of the city took swift action. Without access to the funds from the palace coffers (or more accurately, someone to sign the chitty) the city’s infrastructure was grinding to a halt. The clacks networks found themselves running short of operating capital (shutters, purchasing thereof), whilst the Bank and Mail found themselves at a stand due to a lack of clarity on whose face to print on notes, stamps and coin.
As queues formed to empty the bank’s tills, and piles of correspondence filled store-rooms at the mail, the companies of state found themselves with no choice but to take exorbitant loans from the guilds for operating capital, albeit with pledges of sympathetic treatment in a time of uncertainty for the city.
Around twelve hours later, the guilds unleashed a horde of Lawyers and levered their loans into major stakes in the institutions, pursued swiftly by wholesale replacement of management and a course of stringent operational optimisation to maximise their profits.
The guilds therefore (and legally speaking ‘unexpectedly’) found themselves the de facto rulers of the city. Pulling the purse strings ever tighter, the leaders of the 12 largest Guilds formed a new People’s Parliament, based in the former Patrician’s palace.
Two years later, the city of Ankh found itself in turmoil. With public services cut to the bone (and in the case of any industrial action, the cuts were quite literal), cash was rapidly running from the pockets of normal people into the Guildmasters’ coffers.
Smaller businesses found themselves subject to a host of new levies on everything from water, access to the street and a crushing 40% tax on all transactions above $1. Citizens, too, were faced with a flurry of new taxes, most notoriously the 3.141% levy on all foods purchased from street vendors. Unsurprisingly, people began to leave the city in droves, including notables such as the chief cashier of of the bank and the postmaster general.
As the city became one of Haves and Have Nots, public opinion fermented into a heady brew of discontent, agitation and eventually open opposition to the Guilds. The turning point came when a children’s game of Foot the Ball culminated in a broken window in the Guild of Haberdashers. The Sam refused the orders of the Guild to indenture the children and their extended families until the windows were repaired, citing the 200% per minute interest rate on the damages as excessive.
The citizens, unhindered by the Sam (who went on an extended tea and darts break), responded by systematically breaking every window in every guild owned property and engaging in a spirited campaign of civil disobedience which became known as the Great Crash.
As the Riots grew in intensity, the nobility, led by the now aged Lord Rust, sensed their moment. The Lords’ regiments (which, surprisingly, had never gone a day without pay) marched on the Palace and removed the Guilds from power.
In a matter of hours, the Old Guard were back in power, proclaiming an Interim Administration. Wise to the mood of the people, Rust played his ace card; Standing on the balcony of the Palace, he announced two things that would change the face of the Round World for ever. Firstly, he installed himself and eleven other nobles as a new Parliament for the Populace, pledging to return the city to its former economic glory.
Secondly, and surprisingly, Rust announced that he would not take the leadership of the new PP. The Noble gestured into the shadows, and brought forward a slight figure. To gasps – and then cheers – he introduced the restored Monarch of the joint cities.
The Reign of Queen Toria had begun.
Four years into her reign, Queen Toria faced the first great challenge to her authority. Having ridden into power on the crest of wave of public support, and the backing of the great noble houses of Ankh, she had rebuilt peace, prosperity and public faith in future of the city. Her popularity was at an all time high, with first editions of the Toria Tuppeny Stamp trading at well over £600 dollars a piece.
However, a resurgent populace demands progress. Flexing its economic muscles, Ankh Morpork embarked on a campaign to expand its influence, albeit badged as a ‘campaign of togetherness’. Emissaries, merchants, troupes of performers – all began streaming outwards from AM to spread the word of the Queen’s promises.
Although it was never openly discussed, there was clearly some central sponsorship of these efforts. The Clerks’ Office of Information (CofI), formed shortly after the accession of Queen Toria was suspected to have inspired a major dwarven fashion smith to include Ruffs in his fall collection; the archaic item of clothing, beloved of the young Queen Toria, was thrust back into the fashion limelight and was soon to be seen sported by nobles and commoners alike all around the circle sea.
Alas, not all of Ankh Morpork’s campaigns were to be as successful.
Less successful, for example, were plans to revamp the clacks network. A new upgrade to the towers (which had suffered from massive underinvestment during the Guild Era) was rushed into service, promising higher speeds of transmission and the prospect of shaving up to twenty minutes off the time to transmit a trade instruction between the banking houses of Aknh and Pseudopolis.
Funds were ploughed into the project from the palace coffers, with the new network carrying the Queen’s own seal and all the authority that implied. Unfortunately, when the new Clacks (Speed 2) network reached Lancre, it ran into some trouble.
The upgrade – which needed bigger towers, more towers and the re-siting of existing towers – was proceeding apace, until it reached the ramtops. Despite protestations from the Kings (of Men and Dwarves) and the somewhat feistier interjections of local witches (including, but not limited to, Aggressive Knitting at public meetings) the new clacks towers were routed through areas of Special Spectral Significance, including stone rings and ancient barrows.
Inevitably, perhaps, teams erecting new towers began to disappear into thin air.
As construction ground to a halt, Queen Toria dispatched troops to the region to investigate and, incidentally, protect her investment. Confrontations with the Lancre Army were short, discussions with the Dwarves were long; neither were fruitful.
The Ankh Morpork Expeditionary Force, under the now aged Lord Rust, resorted to brute force and occupied Lancre Town. The local populace, almost entirely, packed their bags and left , following their King into hiding higher up in the Ramtops. Lord Rust billeted his troops in Lancre Castle, and pushed patrols out into the countryside… where they, too vanished.
All apart from one trooper, who was found tied to an oak tree, pierced by hundreds of small stone -tipped arrows. The message was clear to all: the Elves had returned.
Over the next three months, the Expeditionary force found itself incapable of exploring. Entrenched behind the walls of Lancre Castle, rapidly running out of supplies and with an ever-rising casualty count, Lord Rust watched as his command withered.
Meanwhile, Elvish parties roamed far and wide, casting their glamour on any fools who chose to remain nearby. Rust himself was unable to summon assistance as the clacks network failed soon after completion, its complex workings jammed solid. Rust ignored the protestations of the clacks technicians that the main exchange box had become mysteriously clogged with mouse corpses and hairballs deposited by a family of ragged-eared cats.
All looked lost for the AMEF, until one midsummer evening a figure in a pointed hat walked up to the gate of the castle and called for Lord Rust. Knocking ash from a worn and thoroughly venerable pipe, the individual told Rust they had the answer for their problem. They had, though, a price. The AMEF would leave; the clacks towers would stay exactly where they always had been and on no occasion would be allowed within any areas of spiritual, cultural, aesthetic or because-i-bloody-say-so significance, and Lord Rust would accompany the still unnamed person to resolve the situation. Rust, in an unexpected fit of nobility, complied.
Trailing the now humbled Lord behind them, the stranger first visited the clacks where a well-timed hobnail/exchange box interface reactivated the clacks. Grasping a wayward feline, they then walked down the main street or Lancre town, pausing only to unlock the front door of an otherwise unexceptional house.
Tucking the key into their belt, the figure took Lord Rust by the elbow, and walked him gently up towards the hills around the town.
Nobody is sure quite what happened afterwards. It’s well known that the night was shattered by thunder and lightning, with howling winds and clouds darting across the sky. Some claim that they heard song in those winds; others that hundreds of cats were seen sat side by side, staring at the horizon.
But all know that the elves were never seen again, and nor were Lord Rust, or the Stranger. All that remains is that every year since, on the night of that tempest, the restored King and Queen of Lancre ceremonially carry a barrel of ale and pouch of tobacco through the unlocked door of that unremarkable house, close the door, and walk back to the castle hand in hand, with the whole town in solemn procession behind them.
Every Empire has a golden age. For Ankh Morpork under Toria, it began sixteen years after she came to the Throne. With Rust removed from the equation, Toria wasted no time in tightening her grip on the council of nobles, dispensing patronage and discipline in equal measures. She sponsored science and the arts, army and agriculture, commerce and the commoner. The outside world began to take notice of Ankh’s new ruler.
And she began to take notes on them.
At the age of 32, Toria introduced her heirs to the world. After a short period of gossip over who might have fathered the children (and indeed, that their Queen had delivered sextuplets) Ankh Morpork decided it didn’t matter a jot, and carried on.
Shortly afterwards, a curious sequence of events occurred in the cities of the circle sea. In Pseudopolis, the rulers disappeared in a boating accident. In Tsort, the council building burnt to cinder in an unfortunate dragon incident. Across the smaller kingdoms calamity after calamity began to befall the ruling classes.
Toria’s reaction has since been held up as the greatest act of compassion ever exhibited by a ruler of the Round World. Aid and assistance flowed forth from Ankh in a flood of funding, counsel and peacekeeping forces. Before the year had passed, nearly every major city around Ankh was host to a Development and Peace Mission.
The inevitable happened ever so slowly.
Treaties, military alliances, judicious application of patronage, and of course the gradual intertwining of the organs of commerce grew up between Ankh Morpork and the other states. Before long, the DPMs became permanent, and few decisions were taken by any other city without sounding out the Queen’s view. Within two decades, the links were formal; the Queen’s children married into the other ruling families, or were elected to positions of power on councils and senates. One by one, the states accepted de facto fealty to Ankh Morpork and Queen Toria was acclaimed Empress of the Circle Sea.
A Historical study of the Earth children, their father of the Sky and their coming to the worlds of the Multiverse.
In the gloom of the vastness of space, music resounded and from that music came all other musics.
One of the first musics was Rock. Rock was pure, clear and spoke to those that heard it. One such listener to this astral wave was Mor, the Goth and his dweeb, Ron.
Both became enthralled by the majesty of Rock and took up the arts of making waves for themselves. Sat in his keep on the cracked mountains, Mor crafted such Rock as to drive any mortal mad and began his long path to being its true ruler and master.
No other in the multiverse could pour such self-loathing, dark conspiracy and morbid chaos into his music than Mor, the Goth. With this great power and crafting of music, Mor took the happy, hippy woodland folk of his world and forced them to listen to it. Over thousands of years he brought his altered Rock to the masses and his power grew as they fell under its spell, until finally they became consumed by its madness and anger.
Now enthralled by their masters’ twisted Metal, the woodland folk changed their ways, threw down their tools and took up weapons of iron and steel and the first Evil Empire was formed. Mor had always coveted power, denied to him for being ‘Goth’ and now as the fruits of his labours came to bare, he was the true master of the Multiverse. Or at least, that’s what he thought…
…
As the first Evil Empire spread across the Flat World, Ron, who had been a servant to the Metal in the beginning, continued his learning. For he was now a very accomplished weaver of many musics and learnt to blend them in different harmonies.
On a day of great victory and as the legions of Mor’s armies returned to his fortress beyond the Doors of Mor, Ron brought to the parade his own new theme. A blended mix of acoustic harmony through wind, string and key created such a beautiful magic that the legions gasped and wept. For this music was a music that took them back to the times of being simple woodland folk.
Mor watched and listened in awe of his protégé and then with stark and bitter realisation screamed for Ron to stop, for Ron was in fact undoing Mor’s crafting of millennia. Mor lashed out at Ron and struck him with a riff so deep that Ron would be Sore from it ever more. Then, before the masses a clash of titanic music roared across the worlds. For this battle was so great and the music so twisted it tore the very earth beneath, pulled down the open skies and erupted the air between.
When the two had finished their melody of destruction and all had perished before them, the two swooned and staggered across the great stage of their battle and witnessed what they had done. For they had created music so deranged and filled with anger, angst, paranoia, chaos and domination. It was Death made most violent. Ron pulled himself up and now towered over the beaten and fallen Mor the Goth and he spoke.
‘Mor the Goth, you are banished. I, Sore Ron, am now the master of the multiverse.
‘I henceforth place you no longer in my heart and only my desire and I shall rule the rock for you are spent and no more shall the riffs of magic bless you’.
As a final act, Sore Ron took up Mor’s weapon of crafting and smashed it into the fallen Emperors’ amplifier of magic. As the lights dimmed and darkness fell over the stage, the spirit of Mor vanished and would never be seen again.
…
The Second age and the coming of Orcs.
Slowly, Ron began to rebuild the broken keep and lands of beyond Mor’s Door. Once again the lights of power and the sound of music broke the silence of darkness.
But this time its melody was filled with malice and the will to dominate and control forever those that heard it. Still bitter and twisted by his battle with Mor the Goth, Ron would take the name of SoreRon, Dark lord of the Evil Empire, for that is what he then created.
He took the broken peoples of his realm and planted them deep in the earth and with a melody so profound and with all his skill of crafting he poured his greatest riffs into them, for they would indeed germinate in his glory.
However, a deeper magic and one unseen by SoreRon took hold of his creations for he had become so blinded by the music he had forgotten that creation of life must have a mother as well as a father.
As the Earth Children struggled from their deep wombs, it was the mother of the world that carried the land above. For the first Orcs had been born, and taken from her bosom sprung their own consciousness and will.
SoreRon’s anger was beyond sanity and in a fit of malice he took up his weapon of making and stuck a riff so dark it should have torn the world apart once more; yet as the Orcs listened to his mixture of Death and Metal they took to a knee as if they had met their God.
Astonished by this revelation, but still determined to rule these Orcs utterly, he played a melody and for the first time sang to his music. For this music was the most powerful he had ever created and never again would his art reach this level.
Unwittingly he had bound his spirit to it and to its fate.
To Be Continued…