Thread: The Feast & The Famine [LeftShield x Echoplex]

Bellum intulit tumultu...war is brought upon chaos? Connor Lopez rolled over the tiny markings that adorned the phurba. The dark black metal showed it's age with small cracks and chips along the bottom blade. Yet over the past week Connor had been in possession of the ancient artifact, he hadn't been able to cause any damage to it. A chisel, a hammer, and with a nervous stomach even being dropped from the top of a parking garage, nothing could hurt it. In fact it was quite the opposite, the phurba did more damage to the ones trying to hurt it than vice versa. It was a marvel, something that shouldn't exists yet here he was. Spending countless days awake just peering over the small markings across it. It was covered in Latin, which made it strange. What it said in Latin was what had him sleep deprived and yet captivated as he deciphered more and more. Which brings the question, why? While other religions have their own tales, Greek and Norse for example, Christianity is one religion that has held the test of time. Through many different time periods the ideas of Christ and the Bible have flourished and caused many other stories, some even accepted as truth by the religion. Joan of Arc is one of them. Why are Christianity's stories believed as truth by so many while Hermes and Odin are laughed at as child's tales? Because of war. A young man said from the back of the class, causing Connor to turn from his white board and stare down his students. Precisely. Religions have always be decided by the victor. If their god gave them the power to survive, it is obviously the right one. Which brings up the bigger question that if Religion is real and we are the product of creation, is war the only way for us to find our path to our creators?.... The bell rang and the few students that signed up for Religion Studies 101 rose from their slumbers and pulled their way out of the class. Connor couldn't blame them, he knew he was a easy credit and very few students that rolled through his door were actually interested in what he had to teach. It was hard to be enthralled by stories when the man telling you them didn't believe in them himself. Connor Lopez was a professor at Columbia University. After a lifetime of dedication to learning every in and out of religions of the past he had earned himself a rather comfy job at a prestigious school. Though as much as he knew about his field, he couldn't give a shit less about it. Thanks to past events and a lifetime of burning himself out on the subject, the stories never really connected with him anymore. In fact he was a Atheist himself, knowing all he knew, how could he believe in any of it when he knew it was just a tactic to keep people in line. As Connor went about packing up his things for the day he heard clapping from the doorway as a portly man with a thick white mustache waddled his way towards Connor's desk. Marvelous, it does get you wondering doesn't it? Just what was the first religion, prehaps the sun. The man said in a thick British accent. His pudgy hand sticking out to hang in the air next to Connor. Charles Widdletoad, it's nice to finally meet you Mr. Lopez, you're surprisingly hard to reach. Yeah well I'm not a big phone guy, what can I do for you Mr? Widdletoad, and Mr. Lopez I hope you can help me quite a lot. You see I like yourself am quite the connoisseur of ancient stories. I've spent my life collecting these items and if I must say I have quite the collection. You see though I've come across a tomb deep in southern China as of a month ago. My researchers have dated the tomb to be somewhere in the time frame of 200 B.C.. Connor nodded and closed his briefcase. That's quite the accomplishment sir, though I know what you're going to ask and I will kindly decline. My Chines history is nowhere near on par with my colleague Tammy, I could give you here number. Connor knew this story all to well, it was the pain of being the best in his field. Everyone wanted him to go play Indiana Jones, while it had been fun in his twenties, he was much over the hassle of it now. Besides it never came back with anything interesting. Mr. Lopez please I think you'll want to hear me out. I can make it worth your while! Whatever the cost may be I'll match it. Not in need of money Mr. Widdletoad, I'm fairly comfortable. It's a find that will put your name in the history books! Never been in search for fame. There is Latin writing in the tomb! Connor stopped as he was about to leave the room when he heard that last bit. His head turning quizzically to see the stubby Charles smiling like someone who just caught a giant fish. Your men must have gotten the date of the tomb wrong then. No, no, we've had multiple sources come in to confirm it. 200 before Christ. ....Lets get a drink Mr. Widdletoad. The journey had been long but it was just as Widdletoad had promised. After a journey deep, deep, very strangely deep into a mine the explorers had dug, Connor was greeted with a unexplainable sight. Lit by orange glow sticks, the tomb was covered from head to toe in Christian mentions. This....what is this? Connor mumbled to himself as he took cautious steps deeper into the stone room. Exactly what I hope you to answer professor! At the very least confirm the dates and that the scriptures and such are in fact Christian related. As long as you can do that you'll get your payment and I'll be filthy rich! Ha ha ha-what was that?! Charles paused and turned to the sound of Chinese yelling and rocks falling. Charles and his man turned to run down the tunnel and make sure they weren't trapped. Connor stayed, not because of how inthralled he was with this tomb but because of that noise. It sounded like a thump, a beating, a heart. He walked slowly, each step like he was inching closer to his death as the beating got louder and louder. In the middle of this room was a tomb, large and adorned with all kinds of scripture. His eyes weren't drawn to the tomb itself but a fixture on it's face. A small circle with what looked like a metal outcropping. He reached his hand closer and the beating got louder. More and more so, Connor noticed the rocks falling and the mine creaking was going along with the beating of this thing. He feared that if he touched it the whole cave would come down but he couldn't look away. Finally he touched it and like it had been waiting for him, the phurba popped out of the socket into his hand. He marveled at the artifact before hearing the sound of men returning to the tomb. Professor Lopez, no need to worry all is safe! The men say that's quite normal with us being so deep, techtonic plates and what not, yes, hm. Did you find anything while we were gone Professor? Widdletoad asked as Connor turned around, hiding his back and the phurba he had wrapped and hidden in his waistband. No sir...nothing at all... Connor woke from his table with a start and looked around at his studio apartment. He had been sleep deprived for the last week. Something about this artifact pulled at him. He couldn't just leave it alone. There were secrets that this thing held and he needed to find them like he needed air. Standing with a ache he drug his body to his bathroom, staring into the mirror while holding his heavy body up on his sink. Looking back at him was a thirty six year old Latino man. His thick black hair was a mess and his bushy eyebrows were raised up like they were trying to keep his dark green eyes open. His beard which was usually nicely trimmed was starting to grow out a bit wild like. He was more rough for wear but it didn't matter, the translation wasn't complete. Turning on his sink he splashed some water on his face and went back to his table. Sitting down and flipping the phurba over he started to go over the tiny text with his magnifying glass. The problem was that the writings were a mixture of Latin and some language he didn't know. He felt like he was getting half the story. The new age will begin and out will rise their warriors. Bonded by a champion to spark the fire that...burns the world? Why would a dagger in a Chinese tomb talk about Armageddon. Wait...has this always been here? Connor moved the pommel in his hand and found that in the grooves of the four sides were words faintly carved in. Only now they seemed to glow a faint red. War...Pestilence...Famine....and Death....The Four Horsemen? No that's impossible. How could thi-AHH! In his stupor, the sharp blade slipped down his palm and slit his hand open. Blood coated the edge of the blade while as it fell to the floor. The metal blade hit the wood floor with a thump so loud it sounded like lightning hit. Because it did, outside his window in the dead of night, on a clear New York night, the skies filled with clouds. In a instant there was a downpour that came like a hurricane, rain so thick it would blur ones vision. Connor who could barely stay awake and was rushing to seal up his hand paid no attention to the strange happenings. He hurried to his kitchen sink and held a paper towel to his hand before he heard it. This time the lightning strike hit so close he had to pay attention. Looking around he saw the lights flicker before his attention was drawn to the phurba. Now on the floor and with a steady pulse of red light coming from it's blades. What in god's name... Connor mutter to himself. The phurba stood up, the blade pointing down and the red light getting brighter. Things were happening and nothing in Connor's wide knowledge of history could explain what. He could only stare as the red light got brighter and brighter, the sound of the lightning cracking and the rain pelting so hard on his window it threatened to break. Soon the light was so bright that all he could see anymore was red. Deep, Dark, Blood Red.