What is Shattered World?
  About Shattered World
  About MUDs
  How do I play?
  Frequently Asked Questions

Dynamic Commands
  Who's On?
  Sanom City Times
  E-Mail Admin
  Play Now!

Game Features
  Legal System
  Economic System

Shattered World
  Copyright Policy

    Triton History

"Land ho Captain!" shouted the man in the rigging.

"Which way Bosun?" bellowed the captain.

"To the east sar." came the immediate reply.

This revelation was greeted with a great cheer from the crew. The tired sailors gathered in groups, slapping each other on the back and grinning openly. The statement had brought such relief to the crew that some stood with tears running down their cheeks, not caring what their comrades thought.

Captain Gulgard stood by himself, to exhausted to join in the crews exuberance, having had no sleep in a week. But although he showed no outward sign of his relief, he felt as though a huge burden had been lifted from his soul. Whispering a silent prayer of thanks to Rhys, patron god of seafarers he let his mind turn back to the blur of horror and confusion that was his recollection of the past week, drawing strength from the sight of the quickly growing landmass to the east that could only be the Shattered World.

The memories were painful, only slightly dulled by the fact that the danger was now past, and the captain knew he would never forget. They had come from the sea. Crawling up and onto his ship in the dead of night, the tentacles that served as arms making the climb easy for them. He and the crew had been lucky, he saw in retrospect, that the watch that night had not been asleep. For had the alarm not been sounded immediately the entire ship would have been overrun by the creatures. As it was the crew had only barely managed to fight off that first insane assault.

They had come again and again, in a seemingly mindless assault on his ship. His crew had fought well, insane fear lending them strength. Fear was the main part of his recollection of that week, the terror of seeing comrades engulfed in tentacles and hauled down into the deep and most of all the fear of joining them. For an entire week the attacks had continued day and night, giving those aboard no time to rest. Then finally late last night the assaults had ceased as suddenly as they had begun.

As his mind returned from his macabre contemplation the captain once more glanced at the growing bar of land on the horizon, and the fact that the ordeal was over finally struck him. Rendered senseless by the sudden relief of tension he fell unconscious to the deck.

At around the same time other eyes viewed the landmass, but felt an emotion very different to that prevalent on the ship. Indeed, the Triton commander was struck with a sense of awe, for he had lived his life in the ocean and had only heard of land in old legends. His gills opened and closed in wonder as he watched the ship of the fleshy ones dock and saw them stream onto the land, their strange legs bearing them propelling them across the surface. The commander thought of his own legs, and felt a sudden urge to also walk on the earth as the fleshy ones did. But first he knew he must make a report of this discovery to the emperor in his mighty palace below the waves. So with a sigh of regret he turned his back on the continent of the Shattered World and lead his command back beneath the waves.

And then time passed, seeing the emergence of a strange new race from the sea onto the Shattered World. They were a strange race, being bipedal with large webbed feet and having ropy tentacles in place of arms. They were greeted with strange looks and mistrust by the other inhabitants of the continent at first, but time, as time will, made them an integral
part of the community on the landmass. They were still beheld in some mistrust, but were generally accepted. There were some old tales of Tritons attacking human ships, but these were held to be fairy tales and believed by a very few.

And so more time passed, seeing the emergence of the sea folk from their unknown origins in the deep become more frequent, the trust the humans had for them more solid. Indeed, some few were actually born on the continent, being true natives of the shattered world and losing site of the original objective of their ancestors.

But in his realm beneath the seas the Emperor of the Tritons never lost sight of his original goal, as he avidly listened to the reports of his spies and viewed the continent with a covetous eye.

So whether friend or foe Tritons are here to stay, growing in numbers by the year and carrying out their many secret plans both on the land and in their empire below the waves.

Return to Triton General Information


Copyright Policy © 2001 Shattered World