The Horns of Fate | General of Arms
"It is ordained in the eternal constitution of things, that men of intemperate minds cannot be free. Their passions forge their fetters." -Anonymous
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Last Login: March 20 2019


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The Forge Masters of Tartarus seeks audience with the General.

Within his sanctuary, he was greeted by the titanic forms of Brontes and Steropes; two of the three original cyclopes.

"General Manos." Brontes said with a slight bow of his head.

Steropes followed his brother’s lead and bowed his head as well, albeit with a noticeable hesitation. "General Manos."

"No need for formalities on this night." Unlike the others of their species, the two cyclopes were not savages with a talent for forging. No, Steropes, Brontes, and their absent brother Arges, were refined, cultured creatures. "Were you able to make what I asked of you?"

Steropes held up one anvil sized hand and cleared his throat. "Yes, we crafted everything according to the provided specifications…" Steropes said, as he reached into his chest pocket and removed a stainless-steel case, no larger than a deck of playing cards. He tossed the case to the floor, where it began to unfold and expand until it was as large as a king-size bed. "Then let’s show you the finished products," the cyclops said with a smile as he opened the case.

Before him in the case, surrounded by non-conductive foam, lay three weapons that would rival anything on Olympus. "A weapon of Celestial Bronze, a weapon of Imperial Gold, and a weapon of Stygian Iron."

The first weapon appeared to be little more than a blade connected to a spiked ball via a chain crafted from Celestial Bronze. "The vinculum known as Babylon," the giant said as he held it before Manos for inspection. "A weapon that will heed its master’s call from anywhere and from any distance. Its chain will change its length to suit its master’s needs." To show his words were true, the chain suddenly sprouted four additional links, before quickly reverting to its previous length. "And once bonded, Babylon will make copies of itself every sundown."

"Suck it dwarves," Brontes mumbled.

The cyclopes replaced the vinculum in the case and next removed the weapon of Imperial Gold. At first glance, one would have assumed it was a simple sword, but upon closer inspection one would notice a small, sickle-like blade branching off near the end of the blade. "Based on the harpe, Shatter, will live up to its name." Brontes pulled a tennis ball from his pocket and tossed it at his brother. With an unnatural quickness for a blade that size, Steropes sliced the ball in two. Then the harpe clone doubled in size and dropped to the floor and shook the earth. "Shatter is capable of independently changing its weight and size to its master’s wishes." The cyclopes stooped down and touched the weapon’s hilt, and it reduced in size to a mere three inches in length. "From as big as a mountain to as small as a flea, as light as the eyelash of a butterfly to as heavy as a dying star, and everything in between." He gently set the weapon back in the case, where it grew back to its normal size. "And it can transition at the speed of thought."

Steropes replaced the weapon, only to hesitate over the last one. A brief moment of fear flashed in the eyes of both cyclopes, before Brontes gave a solemn nod. "General Manos," the cyclops said clearing his throat. "The final weapon is of the greatest concern to us."

"It is the reason why I lost my arm," Brontes said, the color draining from his face. "And I would have perished if my brother hadn’t been quick with an axe."

The ponytailed brother nodded. "We realize that this is a war and weapons of great power are required, but we beg of you, do not use this-"

"Show it to me," Manos growled. He commissioned three weapons, not two and an extra. They all would play an important part in the days to come, though the third weapon would be the one to tip the balance in his favor. "Pick it up in your hands and show it to me."

"Very well," Steropes sighed. The master smith removed the weapon of Stygian Iron from its case and Manos snorted, the bronze ring in his nose shook. At first glance it appeared to be a black caduceus, similar to Hermes’. But upon closer inspection there were several substantial differences. There were four black serpents as opposed to two, and they were lifeless; purely a cosmetic choice. Where their tails wove together, a large spear tip emerged, whose blade seemed to absorb all light that shone across its surface. There were no wings on the weapon, but a black, multifaceted gemstone as big as a cyclops’ eye was held aloft by the open maws of the metallic serpents. "The Stygian Iron scepter, Soul Forge, the symbol of absolute authority. All will bow before it or else," the cyclops grunted.

Manos vaguely worried that his smile would damage his body, yet for the first time in centuries he felt a sensation a mortal would describe as giddiness. And the temptation to take one, if not all, the weapons into battle with him was tantamount to unbearable. But he reframed from doing so, collecting himself before addressing the two brothers. "Excellent work. You shall receive my end of the bargain shortly. There is but one more item I need to see to first."


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Manos lived in what was considered a forest in Tartarus. Giant black trees with leaves of red covered the area and bathed the forest floor in a perpetual twilight. Various plants grew in the twilight that were next to impossible to find anywhere else in the primordial world; ivies that ensnared animals and drained them of their fluids, bushes that moved from place-to-place on their own accord, and flowers that bloomed into a sheep and grazed on other nearby plants were just some of the more notable plants Fate had seen. Numerous animals also called the forest home, some of which never ventured out as all their needs were met.

It was the Celestial's, Fate, favorite place, and it still amazed him that the minotaur had been the one responsible for it all.

Manos had told him of his name from so long ago, Asterion, and that after his first death at the hands of Theseus. He found himself reborn in Tartarus much to his horror. He had reformed in a vast plane where the only life to be found were a few small shrubs and scavengers circling in the air above waiting for the minotaur to fall. And he did, as Asterion felt that he had traded one prison for another; Tartarus being a cruel mockery of the open world he dreamed of while locked in the labyrinth. The minotaur was content to let himself die again and again, hoping he would fade away with each death. But each time he reformed he saw a little more of Tartarus, saw all the chaos and hardship that other beings went through, and slowly an idea began to take shape.

So, one day, he decided to end wallowing in his self-pity, and set off across Tartarus. As an torturing reverence to King Minos he took on the moniker Manos. The minotaur collected seeds from what little plant life he could find and planted them in a secluded corner of the world. He dug miles of irrigation canals from the Phlegethon, using only his bare hands. There was a lot of trial and error in the early days, but over time the forest took root. Sometimes, Manos would go through the Doors of Death and work for the gods or any other being in exchange for a few rare seeds or some tool to help tend to his creation and thus, the Horns of Fate was born. It was a lot of work, but two-thousand years later he had the sanctuary to show for it.

------------------

Hello there my name is Manos. Manos Stormeye, the Horns of Fate. Yes, to your question. Am I a minotaur?

Now if your curiosity gets you this far then I suspect you aim to write. So please to my amusement and your benefit take a gander below and read. Read carefully everything I've etched In stone here.

Role play is placing yourself into a character; you play the character based on his/her feelings and enjoy good scenes/events. The character that you are playing gets involved in certain 'adventures' and will have to interact with others so they are able to do even more. Role play is a lot like method acting, it means never coming out of that character and acting only how they would act. You let events unfold as they come along and it is up to you to decide which way your character would interpret them, one person may sink while another rises to a higher position.

Characters:

Characters, the avatar(s) that you are using in role play. Keep in mind that some players have multiple characters, by all means do NOT confuse them. For example: character A (you) has an IC relationship with character B (me), suppose I have a second character called C that has a relationship with another player's character called D (someone). Your second character E comes in and sees my second character kissing with another character, this does not mean that my character is cheating on your character since they are different ones. In other words no unnecessary drama it kills good role-play and we all need to keep our characters separated. It's fine if you have one character but other people have more characters, so let's respect that.

IC and OOC:

IC means 'In Character' and it's based on what your character says or does, keep in mind that this is the character itself and not the player (you) itself. For example, a 'bad' character comes into a room and is rude to other characters; the player behind it is actually a nice person so his actions are only IC. OOC means 'Out Of Character', text that is often place between brackets; these actions come from the player and not the character...

I do have a few rules.

1.) RP entrances are required.


2.) All RP IC dialog does need to be in quotation marks.


3.) All OCC dialog chat please keep in double parentheses.

EXAMPLE: ((Hey I gotta a phone call brb))


4.) All actions please keep in hyphens or if you do not wish your actions to be seen in a bubble I ask that you use asterisk instead.


EXAMPLE: -runs across the room and jumps out the window- or  *kisses her passionately on the lips*


5.) Please speak as grammatically correct as possible and please check your spelling or at least help those who do not speak or spell well.

Last but not least.. Length is not the answer. I care not if your a one liner or para or novella. All I ask is you match or surpass what ever details I serve you back.


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