Larian Studios

[color:"white"]Welcome to Manatopia![/color]

This is where all final writing of the story goes. Everything must be in character and part of the story. No off-topic!

[color:"red"]IMPORTANT:[/color][color:"#CC8888"] You must read the rules before joining the story. Please take the time so that you may join the story properly and have as much enjoyment as the rest of us.[/color]

The other threads for Manatopia are:

The World: Post your character here. If we can see who you think you are, then we can react to you better in the story. You don't need to give your darkest secrets, though it may help if you state your "mysterious nature". This will give people time to get in an interesting position and be part of the story. Final drafts of new Manatopia rules, culture information, and geographical information should be posted here.

The Commentary: Post ideas, chatter, criticism, suggestions, compliments, and anything else related to the RPG that isn't part of the other threads. If you need to plan new parts of the story with another participant, use either this thread or PM. It may be worth posting drafts of anything intended for The World thread for public opinion.

(With credit to GlanceALot and LaFille.)


In the course of the last decade the Persia Mining Corporation (PMC) became the world's largest mining organisation. Their development of deep-underground mining techniques and technology allowed them to reach depths where the intense pressure creates crystals of far greater quality than what had been seen before. The PMC are now the sole supplier of gemstones required for top-quality manavices and go to great lengths to preserve their monopoly. The deepest mine they are currently working is in South West Asia, a mine known as Hades Caves.

Deep in these caves a small team of workers were operating a huge automated drilling device, powered by a series of interconnected and amplified manavices.

"So do you think we've reached the centre of the world yet?"

"I don't know. Maybe we've gone right past it and we're about to pop out the other side?"

"No. It's too hot for that. If we were past the centre it would be getting cooler again. We need some more ventilation down here."

"Yeah, I'm boiling. The shift's almost over. Lets just tear out some more rock and see what we can find."

The workers continued digging deeper into Manatopia carving out stone after stone from the hard rock, barely scratching the surface, slowly but persistently thinning the granite. And then, Manatopia rumbled back at them.

"What the hell was that? There's not another cave in?" The miner threw a worried look around.

"No way there could be a cave in. We've been doubly careful with the supports since Michaels lost three of his team. It was probably just a tremor." the other reassured him – and himself.

He was partially correct. It started off as just a tremor. The miners had unknowingly been approaching a pocket of molten lava. It had been contained deep underground by the immense pressure of the rock above it. Now an escape had been presented to it. The mine wall ruptured in a fountain of glowing orange-red lava, though the miners never had much of a chance to realise what hit them. The lava gushed up the tunnels devouring everyone and everything in its path. The miners in the tunnels closer to the surface were deeply troubled by the tremors, the surging wave of hot air blasting through the tunnels. This feeling of undefined, imminent danger was to only last a few seconds...

The pocket of lava that had ruptured was near the base of a tectonic plate. The sudden depressurisation allowed the molten gooey core of the planet to follow in the lava's tracks. The core of Manatopia smashed its way into Hades Caves, rupturing the tectonic plate. The resulting earthquake was unlike anything experienced since the planet's infancy. The tremors were felt as far away as Western Europe. South West Asia was obliterated. Entire towns collapsed. The death toll exceeded 500,000 people. Persia was split in two, the Middle East and Asia now being disconnected by rubble, the usual trading network was obliterated.

In itself, this was the worst disaster to ever befall the world, but the aftermath was to cause more problems than anyone could have anticipated. By rupturing the planet, the balance of mana in the world had been upset. Where there was normally a balanced amount of mana throughout the world, now it collected in pockets ranging from visibly volatile to completely devoid. Manavices began to operate in peculiar and unpredictable manners due to the irregular flow of mana. Many Magi were left either powerless or unable to cope with the overload of mana.

After the initial shock, civilisations began to adapt in various ways. The radium industry rapidly boomed to invent replacements for mana technology. Extremists supporting the Magi and the Scions started conflicts, convinced that their way was the only true answer.

All that was clear is that little was as before in the world anymore and something had to be done about it. Proposed and discussed answers were manifold - but none so far provided a clear vision of potential success. Thus hope dwindled slowly and fatalism spread like a cancer.

But then change is the catalyst for evolution and, among the various people and races, the dramatic need for adaptation to the new situation triggered developments that would forever change the face of Manatopia...

Post deleted on Lews command.

Sandor blinked. Hadn't he just been... where had he been? Oh well. He looked around his surroundings, to see where he was. He appeared to be inside of a sort of car. There was one seat across from where he was sitting, pointed towards him, with a man sitting there in a uniform. A similer man was sitting next to Sandor on the cushions.

They seemed to be going around 25 km/h, and in a city. Sandor was wearing a neat suit, black, with a red tie, a black hat, with a briefcase on his lap and a 1 shot pistol in his belt.

They stopped suddenly, with Sandor almost being jurked off his seat. He frowned, and stood up when the two men in matching uniforms opened the door to his left. He got out and squinted into the sudden blinding glare. It was suddenly very hot, very dry, and very lonely.

Outside of the car was a huge building, towering. It had, halfway up, a platform for a small airplane to land, and one big door straight ahead, in the middle. To either side were more men in uniforms holding back surging crowds.

"There él is!" Cried one person, in a mixture of Spanish and English.

"I Siehe das bastards!" Another yelled, this time German and English.

More and more people seemed to appear, and Sandor looked at the guards. They were slowly moving closer and closer to the path they had cleared, but did not look like they could hold it open for long.

"Right this way Mr. Kontorist," one of the 2 guards with him said, pointing to the building.

Sandor grinned at him, and then quickly started walking to the door. He was about halfway there when a half-eaten fig hit his breast-pocket. He picked up his pace, but fruit kept flying. He was around two-thirds of the way there, when a rock was chucked, and the guard to his left went down, clutching his head. He was sprinting now, he had to make it inside. He heard a loud bang, and a scream from the crowds. The guards were shooting empty rounds of air at people now, but it was still painful.

The line broke, and the guards were trampled, right as Sandor made it to the door. I am going to make it, I can make it, just another few meters. Do not look behind you, don't look at the screaming maniacs, or at the guards protecting here, look at the door. He told himself, sprinting as fast as he could. A wooden club went sailing past his head, but smashed against the windows and fell down, leaving no dents.

Sandor ran, and flew through the door. He heard some more footsteps behind him, then the door slaming shut. 4 men inside rushed to it, securing it with spells as well as iron, steel bolts and locks.

He looked behind him, and saw,out of the guards lining the walk, and 'his' two men, only 3 men had made it inside with him. He turned, looked ahead of him, and saw a man in a grey suit, with a red undershirt, and blue tie.

"Aah, our Clerk has arrived. Come this way, Mr. Kontorist. The board will be very glad to hear from you." He beckoned towards a small door, which led into a small box, which was powered by water to raise up to the top floors of the skycraper.

When the doors opened, Sandor was in a large room. A big table was in the middle, with around 15 business men sitting at it, and his guide took a seat with them.

A man stood up from the table, Sandor later learned his name was Mr. Denaro, and smiled at him.

"Aah, Sandor Kontorist from our friends at the EMC. Gentlement, listen to him well. Sandor, I believe you have some sort of way to... well -lets be blunt- make money off of this recent horrendous occasion. . ."

Sigmund was lost in his work as usual. For several months now he had been working on a radium-powered engine, but was still having trouble regulating the power flow in the system. The only solution he had found so far required the use of water-manavices to stabilise the engine. Upon starting his latest test run, one of the water-crystals started whining harmonically and shattered in a shower of blue shards. The engine roared into overdrive, its restraints now removed. Sigmund swore as he hit the fail switch on the engine. He installed such a switch after the first problem caused him to wait five hours for the radium to deplete. "What happened to the bloody protection crystal? Why didn't that break instead?" exclaimed Sigmund. "Oh. It's broken as well." he said, finding a pile of white powder where there was once crystal. The lamp then began to glow brightly and followed suit.

He grabbed his coat and stumbled out of the now darkened RGIR workshop. There was a strange feeling in the streets that evening. People seemed more worried and hurried to get home. There was less friendly chatter and more huddled discussion. Of course, Sigmund didn't notice an of this as he strode through the streets muttering about "bloody unreliable manavices."

"Sigmund! How is my best customer?" greeted Alphred the crystalist. "I was just about to close up."
"I need another water-crystal carved, and a protection crystal. You still have my design specs? Oh, and another fire-crystal for my lamp. They just seem to break like nothing this last week."
"Always straight to business." joked Alphred. He fished out a replacement fire-crystal for the lamp. "I doubt I'll be able to carve your special requests for some time."
"What do you mean? Aren't I your best customer?"
"Yeah, but quality crystals are very hard to get since the Hades Caves disaster."
"The what?"
"Hades Caves... The mine that caused the great earthquake."
"I don't care where you get them from."
"That's the only place you can get them from. How can you not have heard about the earthquake? Don't you read the newspaper?"
"No! I don't care about trade talks with Franconia or who the Iberian Prince is shagging today."
"Here." said Alphred, tossing Sigmund a week-old newspaper. "It's on me."

Something had been shaking. Far away. Mother Earth. Too far away.

Talon Ngara rolled out of his sleeping position on the ground, very well hidden between some bushes and a tree that had been collapsed a while ago, thus concealing him from view.

He knew that no creature would attack him now. He was safe. Although he was far away now from the town he travelled to, he knew the Jungle's paths - or at least his intuition told him so. He heavily relied on his intuition for finding paths in this thick mass of plants of all sizes : crawling on the floor of the jungle, climbing up into the branches, hanging down from the tops of the trees like wet, soggy stripes of living wood hanging down and sometimes slashing into the face of a wanderer who wasn't careful enough. The ground itself was thick and sometimes wet, creating a kind of mud that simply pleased the feet of the wanderer. It was easy to walk here on this ground, in close contact with Mother Earth who cared for her children in a very special way. Walking on this mud was more like a massage than something else.

Of course he also had sandals on his feet - as a simple means of protection against tiny insects which might be there with fangs and stings held out for prey.

His other clothes were thin trousers and a t-shirt. In his bag he had among his other belongings a thicker mat-like jacked and longer trousers just in case he needed them as protection.

But for now, he didn't need protection. He was in the Heart of the Jungle, in contact with Mother Earth, and there was nothing to fear. So he travelled on, on a route that protected him by being deep inside the jungle, and at the same time took him further towards the town. He would need 3 days more for the journey.

On a steep and curvy path that cuts trough the rocks like water over the ages, a lone wanderer hikes at a steady pace uphill. Dressed in a grey jacket that may have had vibrant colors at one time, a brown leather pants and hiking shoes that have each a big hole that reveals the wanderer all his toes, the shoes laces seemed to be half the length they supposed to be. A rope circles several times around his waiste then goes over his shoulder and back down to be knotted at the waiste, at shoulderheight on his back a bag is attached to the rope with a shoe lace. His face showed many signs that hasn't eaten in a while and hasn't slept good for a much longer period, yould be years. His hair was greasy unmaintained and a beard covered half his face. There was no doubt this man had been traveling for a long time.

He went by the name Feanaro Sirfalas, a name wich was too well known in the city of Berall. But he's far away from his "fame" now, he kept climbing the steep path that seemed to have devided a mountain top in 2, but the path was old and definatly not used on a regular basis, it was sometimes unclear and several fallen rocks blocked the whole path Feanaro climb over them as none of them were larger then Feanaro himself. He traveld uphill for several hours till dusk came. He stopped and seated leaning back to big rock laying several meters away from the path. He looked around and sighed, no vegetation at all. He couldn't see much as his view was blocked by 2 rock walls rising high above him, uphill following the path an orange glowing mountaintop glowed orange, snow reflected the setting sun. He took a book and pen out his bag and wrote a fex lines:

I haven't encountered a living thing today either, it has been 2 days since I've eaten, but I still have some energy left so I won't eat the last of the bread I've been givin by the mentally disabled but extremely gentle man I met 2 weeks ago. I feel I will find food soon, I haven't slept last night, there is no sound but that of the wind hasting over this path but the memory is what really keeps me awake, I often hear their voices in the wind..

He put both book and pen back in the bag and stood up to find a better place rest, a 25 meters further a small gap was in the rock wall, just deep enough for him to fit in with knees bend. He crawled in and tried to slee with his head resting on his bag.

Feanaro openend his eyes, and couldn't see a armstretch in front of him, a dense fog has embedded the corridor in sad mood, Feanaros clothes were damp and very unconfortable. Slowly he stood up but still managed to hit the rock wall that hangs over his sleeping place with the back of his head. He mumbled something that sounded like a curse while picking up his bag with one hand and the other on the back of his head feeling for blood. His hear was also damp so he couldn't tell if he was bleeding by touch, looking at his hand he saw no blood and sighed.

He walked for hours in this bald repetive landscape, altering slopes and corridors, then around noon the fog began to clear and a very blue sky appeared, the sun was in his back and emited more than enough heat to dry his clothes, he never toughed it would be this hot since he entered the mountains but the suprise was most welcome. On a small boulder he seated and ate some of the allready hard and tasteless bread, nonetheless it gave him some more energy to continue,luckely the sun was their to augment his pace and he hiked almost twice the distance he did that morning. At dusk his energy was almost depleated when he struggled over a steep rocky slope where only some carved steps indicated he was still on the same path. Almost to tired to continue his eyes reached the top of the slope and the last seconds of the setting sun revealed a lake with its orange reflection. This sight filled him with hope for etable food and energy, with a fast pace he walked downhill, jumping over obstacles and fell down on his knees just at the shore of the lake. His synical but joyfull luaghter echoed and even seemed to ripple the water. He drank and drank from the lake that tasted so pure for several minutes, it cleansed his body and he felt better as he had felt in weeks.

He stood up to scout for a bush, an animal, fish whatever he could eat. Believing a lake like this should definatly attract any kind of life. And right he was a 2 hundred meters from his position a small rabbit seemed to be knibbling on something growing at the side of the lake, he took his homemade slingshot out of his back left the bag on the ground and sneaked towards the rabbit, when he was only 20-25 meters away the rabbit didn't seem to have noticed Feanaro. Feanaro grabbed a rock the size of an egg laying beside his feet aimed and shot it at the rabbit but missed by a hair. He tought he could forget this meal by this miss, the rabbit jumped away just a little distance and continued eating from another bush. Clearly to rabbit didn't expect any threats here, so Feanaro took another shot and didn't miss, but hit the poor animal right between the eyes and it stood there for 2 second before falling over.

Feanaro had finnaly found a decent meal in weeks, he took the rabbit and went to search some dry wood under the bushes he found several dried twigs and leaves, enough to start a fire. He went back to his bag with the rabbit over his shoulder and the twigs and leaves in a small ag made with the front of his shirt. He went to find a place shielded from the wind and found that behind a sharp rock that looked like a sabertooth that pierced the earth. He succesfully made a fire and started roasting the rabbit. By now the sky has lost all it's light and the fire casted some small reflections on the lake. Feanaro wrote some more in his diary, followed by resting for an hour back against the rock staring at the fire and the rabit on it. Then finnaly the rabbit was cooked well and eaten with great enjoyment. He should have saved some but it tasted to good, he promised himself he would hunt for more rabbits tomorrow, as obviously this one wouldn't live here alone.

With his stomach filled he fell fast asleep.

"...and in other news, the Iberian Prince is shagging pop singer Angah Linajo Lee. Yup, the newspapers really haven't changed." said Sigmund tossing the newspaper into the corner of his workshop. It had told him about the Hades Caves disaster as well. There was still no explanation as to the cause of the disaster. This persuaded him to catch up on the last week of news.

Through the news reports Sigmund learned that the problems he was having keeping the mana-crystals stable wasn't his incompetence, but rather the fact that the world was rapidly going to hell. Magic all over EMC, and reportedly further as well, was either missing or causing violent problems. Rumours said the effects could be worldwide! It was causing panic everywhere. People were rushing to purchase radium devices. Hospitals and teleportation temples were being shunned by people, fearing what the unstable mana flow could do to them. Emergency services were being rushed off their feet and calling for more volunteers every day. The national leaders tried to keep the peace, but panic and crime reached previously unseen heights.

"And we've got the bloody Persians to blame for all of this." muttered Sigmund, forgetting that those "bloody Persians" were the ones supplying him with his precious mana-crystals.

Sigmund decided, as he'd always known deep inside, that magic was an unreliable and dangerous method to live by. Now everyone was realising that the predictable nature of radium was a far safer lifestyle choice. He would start by completely refitting the workshop; no manavices anywhere, all radium. One major obstacle quickly occurred to him: "I'm going to need radium... a lot of radium."