Status Undead
Junior Member
They are known by all, as the Roses. A group of champions who have protected the planet since time immemorial. They are chosen only from the best, based on skills, personality, and gender, fr the variety is what allows them to look at all possible angles in the toughest of fights.
The world is lush, full of rolling hills, leafy forests, and desserts populated with oases. Though it's not all, perfect, there are several patches, where demons and monstrosities are summoned. The Roses have figured out the pattern, an have been holding their battles at these locations to keep the monsters from spreading out and attacking innocents. These battles tend to leave a large circular field of burnt, frozen, scorched, cracked, torn, pulverized, and otherwise destroyed earth.
No one knows how, or who opens the portals, though no one has ever been able to go through one. No one seems to know how or who makes the Roses appear before their chosen champion, not even the chosen Rose themselves.
The Roses spend their life traveling the path to the next patch, waiting for the portal to open and the monsters to flow. The Roses got their name from the roses they carry. Roses don't grow on the planet, and they can not be made, no matter how skilled one may be. The roses are also magically bound to it's owner, which is given when they are chosen, and destroyed if it's lost or the owner is killed, only to be returned, or to find a new owner. These roses only find the most skilled people on earth, and enhance their powers even further, making a single Rose member able to take down an entire city army alone. The group is capable of defeating any creature imaginable.
Roses are by no means immortal, and many have died, most by old age, and a few even in battle against particularly powerful foes. They embody protecting the planet, and in many millennium, there has never been a Rose who has worked against the side of good. Though, like everything in life, all things must come to an end. This story begins just before the group's final battle before things change.
Another clear sky on another wonderful summer day. The group is headed towards their next battleground, minutes away from it coming into sight. This area was once the battle ground for an ice witch, a strong one. Even through twelve summers, the ice is still caked on in patches and stalagmites. Even though they will be arriving shortly there's still several hours before the portal is scheduled to open. Earal, often called Eerie for short, is carefully making her way among the knee high grass to the site, careful to not trip and make a fool of herself, though it'll probably happen anyways.
As they reach the battleground, the group sets up camp a short ways off, where they can eat before hand and rest afterwards, before moving on to the next site. Earal watches as the Sun sets, not being allowed to tough camp equipment, she always enjoyed night battles, though this one will probably be over before it gets too dark.
Earal enjoys food, drink, and conversation while the minutes whittle down until the portal is scheduled to open. She laughs and trips and gets laughed at, as the group usually got along. Though time was nearly here, she would try to focus so she wouldn't make any mistakes, though no one in the group can remember the last time she had a battle where she didn't mess up and some laughed in reminiscence.
The world is lush, full of rolling hills, leafy forests, and desserts populated with oases. Though it's not all, perfect, there are several patches, where demons and monstrosities are summoned. The Roses have figured out the pattern, an have been holding their battles at these locations to keep the monsters from spreading out and attacking innocents. These battles tend to leave a large circular field of burnt, frozen, scorched, cracked, torn, pulverized, and otherwise destroyed earth.
No one knows how, or who opens the portals, though no one has ever been able to go through one. No one seems to know how or who makes the Roses appear before their chosen champion, not even the chosen Rose themselves.
The Roses spend their life traveling the path to the next patch, waiting for the portal to open and the monsters to flow. The Roses got their name from the roses they carry. Roses don't grow on the planet, and they can not be made, no matter how skilled one may be. The roses are also magically bound to it's owner, which is given when they are chosen, and destroyed if it's lost or the owner is killed, only to be returned, or to find a new owner. These roses only find the most skilled people on earth, and enhance their powers even further, making a single Rose member able to take down an entire city army alone. The group is capable of defeating any creature imaginable.
Roses are by no means immortal, and many have died, most by old age, and a few even in battle against particularly powerful foes. They embody protecting the planet, and in many millennium, there has never been a Rose who has worked against the side of good. Though, like everything in life, all things must come to an end. This story begins just before the group's final battle before things change.
Another clear sky on another wonderful summer day. The group is headed towards their next battleground, minutes away from it coming into sight. This area was once the battle ground for an ice witch, a strong one. Even through twelve summers, the ice is still caked on in patches and stalagmites. Even though they will be arriving shortly there's still several hours before the portal is scheduled to open. Earal, often called Eerie for short, is carefully making her way among the knee high grass to the site, careful to not trip and make a fool of herself, though it'll probably happen anyways.
As they reach the battleground, the group sets up camp a short ways off, where they can eat before hand and rest afterwards, before moving on to the next site. Earal watches as the Sun sets, not being allowed to tough camp equipment, she always enjoyed night battles, though this one will probably be over before it gets too dark.
Earal enjoys food, drink, and conversation while the minutes whittle down until the portal is scheduled to open. She laughs and trips and gets laughed at, as the group usually got along. Though time was nearly here, she would try to focus so she wouldn't make any mistakes, though no one in the group can remember the last time she had a battle where she didn't mess up and some laughed in reminiscence.
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