Post by GameWizard on Apr 9, 2006 2:17:21 GMT -5
The last light of day bathed the city with its warming glow. Everywhere the citizens were preparing for a close to another busy day (though there were always those who were only now preparing instead for an even busier night). Some were now returning home from grueling work shifts. Some were sitting down to evening meals, hot and fresh from the oven. Some were lying alone in the miserable existance they called life. Deep within the city, in the region known as 'downtown', a large space of land had been fully cleared. It was a vacant lot that resided at the end of a great square, itself the parting wedge that forced a fork in the usually congested lanes of traffic, and that lot was large indeed. A sign posted to the wooden fence that shielded the lot from passers-by read simply 'construction in progress.' Construction of what? many would wonder, few would ask. No equipment had yet to arrive. No person had been witnessed investigating their new property. What metamorphosis would this dead lot undergo?
One man knew for certain; the few others he had kept close at hand had their ideas. They knew what they needed to know, no more, no less. The way it always should be. He himself stood within the lot, lost to wandering eyes behind the barricade of fencing. He moved through the empty space, silent as if he weren't there at all. His coat, draping along his body to the ankles of his boots, hid him well from any who may unwisely seek to venture a glance over or between the planks of wood. The hood was deep, the cuffs were flared, and the chains hanging from the neck made not a sound as they swayed with his movement. This man of shadow was a living ghost in this world, and when he would later leave this place to attend other errands he would be just as silent and unseen as he was now. A ghost. A shadow. Nobody at all.
It was he who knew the purpose of this lot, destined to soon not be the void it was now but something greater and yet more terrible than any other structure. It was not so much as its power but its meaning. This would be where it would stand: the tower of their purpose, their base of operations. In the end it would serve them well. Here would stand the symbol of their rebirth, a marker for the downfall of those who would oppose them.
One man knew for certain; the few others he had kept close at hand had their ideas. They knew what they needed to know, no more, no less. The way it always should be. He himself stood within the lot, lost to wandering eyes behind the barricade of fencing. He moved through the empty space, silent as if he weren't there at all. His coat, draping along his body to the ankles of his boots, hid him well from any who may unwisely seek to venture a glance over or between the planks of wood. The hood was deep, the cuffs were flared, and the chains hanging from the neck made not a sound as they swayed with his movement. This man of shadow was a living ghost in this world, and when he would later leave this place to attend other errands he would be just as silent and unseen as he was now. A ghost. A shadow. Nobody at all.
It was he who knew the purpose of this lot, destined to soon not be the void it was now but something greater and yet more terrible than any other structure. It was not so much as its power but its meaning. This would be where it would stand: the tower of their purpose, their base of operations. In the end it would serve them well. Here would stand the symbol of their rebirth, a marker for the downfall of those who would oppose them.