robotnik2004 | Wuxia Charnel Gods Trailer (Reply)

Behold the Empire of Ten Thousand Years. The palace at the center of the city, the city at the center of the world. Beyond the Empire is the Wall of Peace, guarded by fierce warriors with fell weapons of mass destruction. Beyond the Wall, there is nothing—only barbarians, howling wastes, and the yellow gulfs of Hell.

Behold the Emperor, the Mountain Under Heaven. See how the people love their lord! Night and day he is guarded from assassins by soldiers numbering nine times nine times nine. And each of those bodyguards is watched by nine more warriors, to vouchsafe their loyalty, and each of those is closely watched by another vigilant nine. And all the wives and all the children of these warriors are guarded night and day by nine more men, ruthless killers with glittering knives. How the people must love their Emperor, to protect him so.

Behold the General of the Blood-Red Sun, the Emperor's Right Hand. See her armies ride and slaughter. See the enemies of the Empire throw themselves in her path. The cunning Han, the savage Mung—they yearn to be butchered by her. They glory in exquisite death upon her terrible swift sword. See the killing fields left in her wake, stretching from the Wall of Peace to the edges of the world. An Empire that commands such a General must be peaceful and secure indeed!

Behold the Lord High Executioner, the Emperor's Left Hand. His name is known throughout the Empire, for in every village, mothers tell their naughty children, "Behave! Or he will come for you." And is it not so? An army of whispers ensures the loyalty of the populace. Those who plot, those who doubt, those who forget their proper place under heaven soon meet the Executioner's red blade. O happy man to do such noble work. O happy man to be renowned among all the children of the land.

Behold a Monk, lowly initiate of a now ill-favored order. See the black staff he carries in his hands. For many years the monks of Wu Lin Temple guarded this weapon, too terrible to loose upon the world. With prayers and rites and sutras they shut their ears to its entreaties and steeled themselves against its lusts. But now a young novice wields the staff alone. He makes his way to the Emperor's palace. The monks on his trail will not catch him. The army in his path will not stop him. How righteous he must be!

Behold the Necrocrat, Minister of Ghosts. He is the emissary between the living and the dead. He oversees the necropolis, where the ancestors of the Emperor and his enemies lie. Here, he walks among ghosts. He wrings from them their secrets. He punishes their mischief. He carries gifts between Earth and Hell. Hear the hungry ghosts, howling to the Necrocrat, beseeching him for favor, straining to reach him with hands and teeth and claws. Such a welcome they will give him when at last he joins their kind!