Post by Forsaken on Jan 22, 2009 3:07:17 GMT -5
Essentially, humans are in Manticore's dark present what they were in the past. Still, there are slight differences, and it is those differences that most define them.
Perhaps the most drastic change is that the human race is no longer on the top rung of the power ladder. In the past it had been the humans that had shaped the world, in the present it is the Guardian's that organize and direct progress for them. They do not rule. They serve.
Also, they are much fewer in number. Only a million to their former peak of 6 billion, and nearly all are huddled in the stone city of Manticore. Though the rare human has chosen refuge in Wyvern and a life amongst the less photogenic werewolves.
They live in a world of sub-arctic temperatures and growing enough food in a limited number of greenhouses (the greenhouses of this future are large, dome-shaped buildings with thick, insulating stone walls and artificial lighting) is a constant concern. So that they do not face food shortages, they strive to keep their population steady. Though a growing population is not a concern in times of war. And it is the human population that suffers the greatest losses when the Guardian's choose to go to war with the werewolves.
Yet it is not the Guardian's they blame for sending them to war. It is the werewolf demons that are the culprits, for destroying their young men and women and draining all life and warmth from the world. The Guardian's are their saviors, the ones who will lead them into a better world. They are the angels that guide them, the gods that protect them. They are everything that is beautiful in a world that is very nearly dead. Young children grow up idolizing them, and the adults serve them with blind devotion.
However, there are exceptions to the rule. There are those who never stop questioning reality, who live life open-minded, and who tend to discover the real truth in the end. There are those whose eyes have been forced open, who may have had a close friend or relative that exhibited werewolf traits, such as eyes that turned gold during nights nearing the moon, and were destroyed for no other reason. And there are those who are that person, who spent their childhood as an average human but turned when they reached adulthood, due to genes that may have entered their gene-pool generations in the past and just happened to surface for them when they remained suppressed for nearly all others. For the exceptions, the choices are few. They can try to hide, though no one can hide forever. They can flee from Manticore with the aid of a werewolf sentinel, leaving behind everything they know for everything they've been taught to fear and do not yet understand fully. Or they can join the rebels, and not only find safety in numbers but answers to all of their questions.
Perhaps the most drastic change is that the human race is no longer on the top rung of the power ladder. In the past it had been the humans that had shaped the world, in the present it is the Guardian's that organize and direct progress for them. They do not rule. They serve.
Also, they are much fewer in number. Only a million to their former peak of 6 billion, and nearly all are huddled in the stone city of Manticore. Though the rare human has chosen refuge in Wyvern and a life amongst the less photogenic werewolves.
They live in a world of sub-arctic temperatures and growing enough food in a limited number of greenhouses (the greenhouses of this future are large, dome-shaped buildings with thick, insulating stone walls and artificial lighting) is a constant concern. So that they do not face food shortages, they strive to keep their population steady. Though a growing population is not a concern in times of war. And it is the human population that suffers the greatest losses when the Guardian's choose to go to war with the werewolves.
Yet it is not the Guardian's they blame for sending them to war. It is the werewolf demons that are the culprits, for destroying their young men and women and draining all life and warmth from the world. The Guardian's are their saviors, the ones who will lead them into a better world. They are the angels that guide them, the gods that protect them. They are everything that is beautiful in a world that is very nearly dead. Young children grow up idolizing them, and the adults serve them with blind devotion.
However, there are exceptions to the rule. There are those who never stop questioning reality, who live life open-minded, and who tend to discover the real truth in the end. There are those whose eyes have been forced open, who may have had a close friend or relative that exhibited werewolf traits, such as eyes that turned gold during nights nearing the moon, and were destroyed for no other reason. And there are those who are that person, who spent their childhood as an average human but turned when they reached adulthood, due to genes that may have entered their gene-pool generations in the past and just happened to surface for them when they remained suppressed for nearly all others. For the exceptions, the choices are few. They can try to hide, though no one can hide forever. They can flee from Manticore with the aid of a werewolf sentinel, leaving behind everything they know for everything they've been taught to fear and do not yet understand fully. Or they can join the rebels, and not only find safety in numbers but answers to all of their questions.