Post by eddy on Oct 3, 2010 17:36:51 GMT
Chapter One: It
Date:16th May, 2019
I could feel all my muscles tense as the device clung firmly onto my arm. A small circle with some form of pattern on it glew indigo as tiny syringes forced their way through my skin and into precise veins. I gritted my teeth and cursed through them. I can barely remember how I came about this flummoxing device.
I was a treasure hunter. I searched for great goods, lost relics, to sell for a price. I was in the land of Norway when I came across a map. This was an interesting artifact. I had bought it off an urchin, he knew not it's true value, foolish child, but I had heard tales and legends of it. Some said it was worth unspeakable value, of course, these were rumours that we used to tell young children back in the lands of Egypt. My homeland.
I had asked from whence it came, but all he said was he'd found it on the streets, in diabolical Norwegian. Of course, he was less educated than me.
I was born in Egypt, by wealthy parents, trained linguistically and had certain aptitude in sciences, physics and the like. Of course, when I had told them I wanted to be a treasure seeker and not a deligatory member of the circle of atoms, they had almost exploded infront of me due to their intense rage. I had reasoned and bargained, but they ignored it. So, at the age of 23, I had left home. That was almost five years ago now. I sometimes wonder if my family still think about me, if they still care. But that is not to be thought of now.
The map. I immediately went to my rented apartment, where the people who inhabitant neighbouring apartments made relentless noise, and sometimes I suspect they knew I was deciphering important codes from the back of treasure maps.
My apartment. Wallpaper curling off of the walls and the roof was damp from where the extractor fans had broken years before. The hard wooden floor was creaking tremendously loudly beneath my feet, and the some windows had smashed where people had thrown rocks and, and these had been boarded up with planks of wood. The apartment contained only two rooms, a small main room, with table, chair, and a "cosy" metal framed bed.
I spent the majority of the night purely sitting at that desk with my pen and other maps, deciphering some codes on the back of the map, with help from seperate maps.
By the next day, I hadn't deciphered the code and my anxiety to find the location of this "unspeakable treasure", even though nobody had ever seen it, but all knew of it, I didn't bother waiting and I set off in a shabby tundra-adapted range rover, I headed to the the north of Norway to a derelict dock named Tross Alle Menn. On my travelling, I wondered, why had destiny chosen me to discover this treasure? And then I had wondered why no man nor woman had discovered tihs treasure before? It wasn't exactly hidden, on a dock that would stand out for miles on the planes of the Norwegian arctic. But, why should I doubt it? It was happening. I could barely drive, my excitement was overwhelming.
Then, as I saw a brown building with some form of ancient and rusted crane, and multiple decaying boats bobbing in the sea at the end of a few short piers. I went to the back of my vehicle and opened the trunk. A small case lay there, of course, I had to have a weapon just in case any of my travels led me to peril. I unpacked it. A simple pistol with silencer. There was an inscription on the stainless steel box. "H&K GLOCK" it had read. On the side of the gun, they had written in trademark red "MODEL EIGHTEEN". I swivelled the silencer into the gun, cocked it, and walked to the small shabby enclave of buildings that neared the dock. Some buildings had collapsed when I reached it, and none were made of stone, moreover makeshift houses for short stops.
The majority of houses had rotted away, and when I knocked they crumbled like biscuits. I cursed into the air. Nothing was here. The dock was too dangerous to step onto, it had decayed along with the buildings, and even if the treasure was on the boat, it would of had to be extremely light and not likely a treasure. Then, I heard the roar of an engine. I ducked down, but realised I was being foolish. "Damnit" I bellowed, and I stood with my left leg behind my right and aimed the glock. But the bullet would not reach the car without the silencer on. I had forgotten to take the keys out of the car, or even lock it. But it came across my mind, this place was deserted, what man would come all the way out here to steal a car? Was I followed?
I let myself fall into the snow, and a searing pain followed as some strange object dug into my back.
At first, I thought a strange matter of animal had bit me as I allowed my body to absorb the pain without a single flinch. Then, I turned around and began brushing away the snow. And I saw it. A chest. No locking mechanism, nor any form of protection. And I swung the lid open, it flew off easily. And then I saw the treasure. Some form of metal arm guard, similar to nothing I had seen before. It obviously was meant for the arm, it had a glove on the end, that had some strange carving in the parm, that revolve over the wrist and onto the back of the arm, that let up to just below the shoulder and to where the arm guard stopped. I prospected it. It seemed so strange, there was tiny spikes on the inside of it at certain places, and something drew me to put it on. My gut told me not to, my gut told me I was being foolish, and I still slipped it on and fastened the elastic that was stronger than elastic, but looked very much like it.
I could feel all my muscles tense as the device clung firmly onto my arm. A small circle with some form of pattern on it glew indigo as tiny syringes forced their way through my skin and into precise veins. I gritted my teeth and cursed through them. The pain was almost unbearable, I fell flat on my face into the snow, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge of the chest. Then it stopped. There was no longer snow, and I heard voices talking. I was in the centre of a great building, circular, with pillars holding up the roof. I stood, and saw men wearing what appeared to be togas with trims, some red, some black, some purple. I stood, and they all looked at me and spoke in some form of foreign language. I had no idea how I had got here, but then, there was a flash. I was in a different place, I was in a building. And there was a man I instantly knew. I was no longer at Tross Alle Menn, for sure. It was my father. But many years ago, when he was a schoolboy. He looked about thirteen, sitting in a class. They spoke my native tongue of Egpytian. The teacher recoiled against the blackboard and asked in a fearful voice. "Who are you?!" Then there was another flash, and I had reappeared in my apartment.
The treasure I had found, was more than just priceless. It was all powerful. I examined it once more. The carvings had litten indigo. I felt beads of sweat drop onto the floor, as I realised. I had just travelled to a Roman senator chamber in it's prime, and my father's classroom when his age was but thirteen, in less than a minute. I gasped, for some reason, my breath was drawn from me. I collapsed onto the floor. "Time travel.." I whispered under my breath.
Date:16th May, 2019
I could feel all my muscles tense as the device clung firmly onto my arm. A small circle with some form of pattern on it glew indigo as tiny syringes forced their way through my skin and into precise veins. I gritted my teeth and cursed through them. I can barely remember how I came about this flummoxing device.
I was a treasure hunter. I searched for great goods, lost relics, to sell for a price. I was in the land of Norway when I came across a map. This was an interesting artifact. I had bought it off an urchin, he knew not it's true value, foolish child, but I had heard tales and legends of it. Some said it was worth unspeakable value, of course, these were rumours that we used to tell young children back in the lands of Egypt. My homeland.
I had asked from whence it came, but all he said was he'd found it on the streets, in diabolical Norwegian. Of course, he was less educated than me.
I was born in Egypt, by wealthy parents, trained linguistically and had certain aptitude in sciences, physics and the like. Of course, when I had told them I wanted to be a treasure seeker and not a deligatory member of the circle of atoms, they had almost exploded infront of me due to their intense rage. I had reasoned and bargained, but they ignored it. So, at the age of 23, I had left home. That was almost five years ago now. I sometimes wonder if my family still think about me, if they still care. But that is not to be thought of now.
The map. I immediately went to my rented apartment, where the people who inhabitant neighbouring apartments made relentless noise, and sometimes I suspect they knew I was deciphering important codes from the back of treasure maps.
My apartment. Wallpaper curling off of the walls and the roof was damp from where the extractor fans had broken years before. The hard wooden floor was creaking tremendously loudly beneath my feet, and the some windows had smashed where people had thrown rocks and, and these had been boarded up with planks of wood. The apartment contained only two rooms, a small main room, with table, chair, and a "cosy" metal framed bed.
I spent the majority of the night purely sitting at that desk with my pen and other maps, deciphering some codes on the back of the map, with help from seperate maps.
By the next day, I hadn't deciphered the code and my anxiety to find the location of this "unspeakable treasure", even though nobody had ever seen it, but all knew of it, I didn't bother waiting and I set off in a shabby tundra-adapted range rover, I headed to the the north of Norway to a derelict dock named Tross Alle Menn. On my travelling, I wondered, why had destiny chosen me to discover this treasure? And then I had wondered why no man nor woman had discovered tihs treasure before? It wasn't exactly hidden, on a dock that would stand out for miles on the planes of the Norwegian arctic. But, why should I doubt it? It was happening. I could barely drive, my excitement was overwhelming.
Then, as I saw a brown building with some form of ancient and rusted crane, and multiple decaying boats bobbing in the sea at the end of a few short piers. I went to the back of my vehicle and opened the trunk. A small case lay there, of course, I had to have a weapon just in case any of my travels led me to peril. I unpacked it. A simple pistol with silencer. There was an inscription on the stainless steel box. "H&K GLOCK" it had read. On the side of the gun, they had written in trademark red "MODEL EIGHTEEN". I swivelled the silencer into the gun, cocked it, and walked to the small shabby enclave of buildings that neared the dock. Some buildings had collapsed when I reached it, and none were made of stone, moreover makeshift houses for short stops.
The majority of houses had rotted away, and when I knocked they crumbled like biscuits. I cursed into the air. Nothing was here. The dock was too dangerous to step onto, it had decayed along with the buildings, and even if the treasure was on the boat, it would of had to be extremely light and not likely a treasure. Then, I heard the roar of an engine. I ducked down, but realised I was being foolish. "Damnit" I bellowed, and I stood with my left leg behind my right and aimed the glock. But the bullet would not reach the car without the silencer on. I had forgotten to take the keys out of the car, or even lock it. But it came across my mind, this place was deserted, what man would come all the way out here to steal a car? Was I followed?
I let myself fall into the snow, and a searing pain followed as some strange object dug into my back.
At first, I thought a strange matter of animal had bit me as I allowed my body to absorb the pain without a single flinch. Then, I turned around and began brushing away the snow. And I saw it. A chest. No locking mechanism, nor any form of protection. And I swung the lid open, it flew off easily. And then I saw the treasure. Some form of metal arm guard, similar to nothing I had seen before. It obviously was meant for the arm, it had a glove on the end, that had some strange carving in the parm, that revolve over the wrist and onto the back of the arm, that let up to just below the shoulder and to where the arm guard stopped. I prospected it. It seemed so strange, there was tiny spikes on the inside of it at certain places, and something drew me to put it on. My gut told me not to, my gut told me I was being foolish, and I still slipped it on and fastened the elastic that was stronger than elastic, but looked very much like it.
I could feel all my muscles tense as the device clung firmly onto my arm. A small circle with some form of pattern on it glew indigo as tiny syringes forced their way through my skin and into precise veins. I gritted my teeth and cursed through them. The pain was almost unbearable, I fell flat on my face into the snow, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge of the chest. Then it stopped. There was no longer snow, and I heard voices talking. I was in the centre of a great building, circular, with pillars holding up the roof. I stood, and saw men wearing what appeared to be togas with trims, some red, some black, some purple. I stood, and they all looked at me and spoke in some form of foreign language. I had no idea how I had got here, but then, there was a flash. I was in a different place, I was in a building. And there was a man I instantly knew. I was no longer at Tross Alle Menn, for sure. It was my father. But many years ago, when he was a schoolboy. He looked about thirteen, sitting in a class. They spoke my native tongue of Egpytian. The teacher recoiled against the blackboard and asked in a fearful voice. "Who are you?!" Then there was another flash, and I had reappeared in my apartment.
The treasure I had found, was more than just priceless. It was all powerful. I examined it once more. The carvings had litten indigo. I felt beads of sweat drop onto the floor, as I realised. I had just travelled to a Roman senator chamber in it's prime, and my father's classroom when his age was but thirteen, in less than a minute. I gasped, for some reason, my breath was drawn from me. I collapsed onto the floor. "Time travel.." I whispered under my breath.