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Quake ]|[ Arena The Beginning: Brilliant flashes of lightning pierce the gaps in clouds that race across a starry sky overhead. Each sharp, painful flash revealing a vast, shadowy ruined hall. Perhaps we sense that some kind of combat is going on at the edge of our senses, glimpses of unearthly struggling forms, strobe flashes of inconceivable violence and power, half-heard echoing groans and cries. Comet-like objects hurtle through the ruined vaults, striking the dusty floor. With each strike, a humanoid form appears, amidst the billowing dust; dazed, confused, then wary and angry until a crowd assembles. We zoom into their midst. The men and women are warriors from the 20th century of Earth and beyond. Most seem somehow familiar. They are angry, suspicious, and argumentative, voicing their emotions in heated words. The ground quakes violently and they are thrown to the dusty floor and their arguing is silenced by a booming voice. “You feel that?” A deep, sad voice booms. The rumblings in the earth slowly abate and heads turn and the camera pans into the shadows where we see a powerful form sitting on a throne. Yet we see only his feet and legs, clad in armor that is both archaic and futuristic at the same time. The rest of his body fades into shadow ... except for a single glowing red eye that half illumes hints of wild hair and a flowing beard. “Your old enemy has returned. The final struggle is at hand.” The ground quakes again, pieces of the hall fall to strike the floor. “Each of you knew it by different names, and fought it in different places, ... but it has always been the same evil.” Angry voices, un-awed by their surroundings, defiantly demand answers. “You were the best, the most fit, the greatest warriors of your age. Each time the evil arose, you fought it to a standstill.” The Quaking continues, walls begin to fall, cracks appear in the floors with a hint of hellish light glowing up through them. In the distance and approaching slowly closer, comes the sound of pounding cybernetic hooves and dark laughter. Overhead, shadows of giant space craft seem to weave through the stars like menacing sharks. “Time grows short. One of you will survive that challenges that lie ahead. One of you will lead the others to face the enemy’s champions in the conflict that is to come.” “Wait!” one of the warriors cries, “If this is the end conflict, where are the gods, the demons and the angels who will fight it?” “Look about!” the booming voice cries “All have fallen before you!” In a series of strobing flashes, the warriors see the skeletal hulks of god-like beings, angels and monsters crumpled against the ruined walls, all victims of incredible violence in unimaginable ages past. Each has a sense of being the remnants of both a living being and some kind of crumbled cybernetic statue. “You must be the champions of this final conflict.” Panning up, the last flash reveals the speaker; a great armored being slumped in a vast, towering throne. A massive broken spear lies across its lap. It’s sagging skeletal head still wears a horned helmet/crown from which an expansive tangle of white hair and beard escape. An ornate patch covers one ey. The glowing red of the other eye fades to skeletal blackness, and as the figure begins to crumble into ruin a pair of gigantic ravens, half living bird, half shining black cyborg take flight from its shoulders and swoop towards the camera. As the skeletal form of the speaker crumbles, so do the ruins that surround him. Chaos and Fury rise up around the warriors.
Quake 3: Ragnarok! (or some other really cool title) Author: Paul Jaquays |
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