Something a bit new. More pleased with the first half than the second, but hopefully this might go somewhere new. I didn't have time to write the extra bit I wanted to on 750 words - so hopefully that'll come out tomorrow.
Inspired by my playlist OMG ZOMBIES! on Spotify.
=====
Claire forced herself to breath slowly and shallowly as she stepped down the alleyway foot over foot, the souls of her boots making the softest of taps on the tile floor that still seemed far too loud.
Not for the first time that night, she shivered partly from the cold and partly from the smell in the air. Everything smelt of death. It seemed to permeate the air, it clung to her soft, light brown hair which was making her flinch every time it brushed against her face; it clung to her clothes - which were partly the reason for her chill, tight fitting black cycling shorts that came down to mid thigh underneath pink denim hotpants, as well as a black t-shirt underneath a pink sleeveless jacket was hardly an outfitted suited for a cold night. Though, she didn't expect to be picking through streets and buildings trying to avoid the undead either.
Her eyes closed slowly as she thought the word. The undead - it sounded rediculous but, there was no other way to describe them. They were walking around when they had no right to be. They had still been walking around with an entire clip of 28mm bullets fired into their chest and Claire had gotten the impression it was only the shot the had hit the thing over its right eye that had finally stopped it moving.
She had to find Leon, literally the only living person she had met since she had arrived in town, or Chris her brother - who was supposed to be have been working around here. He could have at least warned her that the city had gone to shit.
There was a moan ahead a noise that she had quickly associated with the walking dead and it was joined by another noise, a wet slapping noise mixed with something tearing apart. Claire opened her eyes and fought the urge to heave as she realised what the noise was - it was something feeding. She could hear the slap of wet entrails and the greedy grunting as whatever was round the corner tore apart its meal.
Her breath quickened despite itself and she gripped the handgun Leon had given her tighter. There was no other way around, crashed cars blocked the roads ahead, an exploded tanker blocked the way back, she had to go this way.
She shuffled closer and closer to the litter lined alleyway, careful to avoid discarded tin cans and other discarded trash that could give her away.
Finally - she was there - another step would take her round the corner of the alley. She braced her back against the wall briefly, the damp brickwork cooling her shoulders and the small of her back through her clothes before she pushed off and spun around the corner, searching for a target.
It was in front of her. A second zombie, uninterested in the dead body lurched for her as she spun around the corner as a shout came from somewhere ahead. "Elise!"
Elise screamed as she flinched backwards from the TV screen, almost dropped her controller that her thumb mashed the middle of instinctively, finding the pause button and stopping the groaning noise that filled the room. The light snapped on as the door was pushed open and a man, shaking with laughter stepped inside.
"Damnit Dan you... you... arse!" the woman gasped, leaning back in the armchair and balling her fists. She glared at the man who leaned agaisnt the wall, giggling childishly.
"Lis' you are too easy to make jump." he laughed as he glanced at the screen. "Resi two? Again? How many times have you started that game?" he shook his head, slightly dispairingly as his eyes fell from the tv, to the games console sat under it, to her as her shaking hands collected the trident like controller again.
"I don't care. I like it... and this time I'm definitely going to finish it!" she pouted obstinately, her finger hovering over the pause button again.
He chuckled again. "That's what you said the last fifteen times you started it. Have you at least got to the police station this time?"
She muttered in reply, unintelligably before sighing, finally having collected her wits to her again. "Was there something you wanted Daniel?" she asked icily, glaring at her housemate.
"Well, I figured you still wanted to come to classes this afternoon, or are you staying in with the curtains closed in your pyjamas playing zombie games that must be... What, ten years old?"
"Fifteen." she sighed, setting the controller down and standing to stretch. "And I don't care how old it is. I like zombie games." the was a childish whine to her voice that caused Dan's eyes to roll as he turned from the room.
"Better hope there is never an actual zombie apocolypse Lis', the amount you jump from little things like this, you'd be crap." he said, closing the door, hearing the thud of a pillow hitting the door, followed by the shout of "Dick."
"You too! Leavin' in ten minutes. Hurry up."
Elise sighed, turning flicking off the games console and turning on the radio as she hurried to get ready, tuning out when she realise the news was on.
"... and in pharmaceutical news - it's been dubbed 'the wonder drug' by doctors around the world and now something that could be the cure for the common cold goes on general over the counter sale today..." the female voice was saying as Elise began picking out an outfit.
Showing posts with label 750 words. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 750 words. Show all posts
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Creative block is a bitch.
So, I was gonna 'cheat' again and use the schedule time off to preserve my streak, but I think I'll actually write something. Just... well because I haven't in a while. All the inspiration and drive I'd had from originally starting this up seems to have faded and it's getting harder and harder to write things of late. It's kinda like the inspiration has wandered off and I have to go and find it again. I don't think I'd be able to be a full time writer because my imagination is getting to be some hardcore suck. Maybe it's because I don't read/write/exercise my brain enough but... my ideas all seem to be very "samey" and not very original - even though I know it's hard to be truly original in fiction - or even cliche in places.
Which - possibly isn't a bad thing - but gets frustrating when I have all these ideas and they either peter out before I can get them down onto some kind of medium, or they just don't work as well as I thought they should when they sit in my head and bubble there - calling for my attention.
Maybe it's just cause I'm tired a lot of late or don't really get enough sleep? Makes for slower brain and sluggish thinking? What would be the cure for that? Drink more tea? (Gonna get so many responses to that! =P ) Read more? Watch more TV that isn't the same stuff I watch over and again? Listen to more varied music? Get one of those dictatphone things to record my thoughts? Or... use my phone to do the same? I could try writing challenges - but... whatever comes out always seems to be the same - or at least very similar and all revolving around the same characters. I seem to struggle with characters a lot and once I have one - I seem to latch on to them and only really write for them. I struggle writing new characters - and when I do they... I dunno - just seem to be so similar to OTHER characters I write. I struggle writing bad guys as well - which doesn't really pan out for writing stories with an antagonists because sometimes anti-heroes or that redeemable misunderstood 'bad guys' just don't cut it and you need someone properly evil.
Misery in Middale is probably the first story with original characters I've written in years - and while they all have fairly distinct (if cliched) personalities - they still seem a bit wooden to me at times? (Anyone who's read any of it would need to give me feedback as to whether that is the case or not to be honest.) The stuff I've been writing with Space Wolf has been a mix of writing my own characters and writing other peoples characters, which has been fairly interesting, the story with Aylix that I've been writing with Jenni was a pretty good collab with a strong pair of main characters - with a pretty good cast of bad guys we wrote between us (and I guess we'll see how that fairs when I come to edit it.)
I keep looking to the Xeonphotrix triology and trying to work over in my head the characters for that. And hell - the story as well - as the story is something I KEEP struggling with because it's so hard to get the characters from A to B to C. It's absolutely huge with regards to world and setting and the story I WANT to tell - I can come in about part way through and tell the latter half, but the establishing piece - which I'm normally realy good with - I'm just thinking about and dispairing - in no small amount. Maybe I should start with a later part? Or maybe just re-work the entire story to fit the setting better? It's something I keep needing to write down properly just to mull over, but I struggle getting it down in any kind of coherent format.
Add to that the other stuff I need to write - including plot for FnH (in which I've been a massive friggin' letdown of late, especially for Phil - in which I'd like to publically apologise here =[ ) where I'm just struggling to get any sort of inspiration at all for stories. I struggle with ref'ing a lot - because I find I struggle with actually getting the ideas and story that I'm trying to convey through the misson actually out there int the way I want them to... which I always just think is down to me not briefing my monster well enough because it's either too complex or.... just don't work in live action roleplay. =/ Or... something.
Bleh. That's my 750. Hi to my blog readers - sorry I've been so quiet of late. Not much to share at the moment.
Screw it - maybe I should just write bad erotica and flog it as the next 50 Shades or Twilight bestseller bullshit. >.>
Which - possibly isn't a bad thing - but gets frustrating when I have all these ideas and they either peter out before I can get them down onto some kind of medium, or they just don't work as well as I thought they should when they sit in my head and bubble there - calling for my attention.
Maybe it's just cause I'm tired a lot of late or don't really get enough sleep? Makes for slower brain and sluggish thinking? What would be the cure for that? Drink more tea? (Gonna get so many responses to that! =P ) Read more? Watch more TV that isn't the same stuff I watch over and again? Listen to more varied music? Get one of those dictatphone things to record my thoughts? Or... use my phone to do the same? I could try writing challenges - but... whatever comes out always seems to be the same - or at least very similar and all revolving around the same characters. I seem to struggle with characters a lot and once I have one - I seem to latch on to them and only really write for them. I struggle writing new characters - and when I do they... I dunno - just seem to be so similar to OTHER characters I write. I struggle writing bad guys as well - which doesn't really pan out for writing stories with an antagonists because sometimes anti-heroes or that redeemable misunderstood 'bad guys' just don't cut it and you need someone properly evil.
Misery in Middale is probably the first story with original characters I've written in years - and while they all have fairly distinct (if cliched) personalities - they still seem a bit wooden to me at times? (Anyone who's read any of it would need to give me feedback as to whether that is the case or not to be honest.) The stuff I've been writing with Space Wolf has been a mix of writing my own characters and writing other peoples characters, which has been fairly interesting, the story with Aylix that I've been writing with Jenni was a pretty good collab with a strong pair of main characters - with a pretty good cast of bad guys we wrote between us (and I guess we'll see how that fairs when I come to edit it.)
I keep looking to the Xeonphotrix triology and trying to work over in my head the characters for that. And hell - the story as well - as the story is something I KEEP struggling with because it's so hard to get the characters from A to B to C. It's absolutely huge with regards to world and setting and the story I WANT to tell - I can come in about part way through and tell the latter half, but the establishing piece - which I'm normally realy good with - I'm just thinking about and dispairing - in no small amount. Maybe I should start with a later part? Or maybe just re-work the entire story to fit the setting better? It's something I keep needing to write down properly just to mull over, but I struggle getting it down in any kind of coherent format.
Add to that the other stuff I need to write - including plot for FnH (in which I've been a massive friggin' letdown of late, especially for Phil - in which I'd like to publically apologise here =[ ) where I'm just struggling to get any sort of inspiration at all for stories. I struggle with ref'ing a lot - because I find I struggle with actually getting the ideas and story that I'm trying to convey through the misson actually out there int the way I want them to... which I always just think is down to me not briefing my monster well enough because it's either too complex or.... just don't work in live action roleplay. =/ Or... something.
Bleh. That's my 750. Hi to my blog readers - sorry I've been so quiet of late. Not much to share at the moment.
Screw it - maybe I should just write bad erotica and flog it as the next 50 Shades or Twilight bestseller bullshit. >.>
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Demons, I love you's and bitter goodbyes...
Maturity warning on the below - 750Words gave it an R rating for violence, naughty language and general... darknessness. This is based on the RP done for Aylix's backstory...
Enjoy.
((Disclaimer - while based in the FnH world - this is a lot darker than FnH would usually get in LARP and possibly suggests things Just Not Done in the LARP setting. Just so you know.))
=====
Aylix sighed, staring out into the quiet woods around them with something approaching dispair. The woman in the very small church building behind him drove him absolutely crazy - he didn't think he'd ever known anyone to be as closed off as she was and the fact that he was... He caught the line of thought before it could carry on. No, that was daft. They travelled together because it was safer that way and they spent every night between the sheets together because well that's what people do when they're attracted to each other and each day ends with the buzz of adrenaline in their ears. He poked at the small piece of wood he had brought out with him with his knife for a couple of minutes without any real intent and discarded it as twlight took the woods. A wave of drowsiness passed over him and even as he brought his hand up to rub at his tired eyes conciousness escaped him to be replaced with gentle snores. As if taking some kind of cue a sparrow flickered past him inside the church, landing in the small side room in front of the bed Rani was now sitting on, rubbing rubbing the balls of her feet as if trying to work out the ache of the last couple of months of travel. The bird chirruped, as if to catch her attention and she glanced up at it, bemused as her thumbs worked on the soles of her feet as it hopped from side to side. Losing interest after a few seconds, she glanced back down at her tired feet with a slight whimper. "I wonder if I could ask the Ithronian to massage them without him making some kind of sarcastic remark..." she mused aloud catching sight of the bird fluttering up to the bedside stand. It was starting to get slightly unnerving the way it was just watching her, staring with almost a malignant intelligence. "You're being stupid Rani, it's just a bird." she murmered. The bird cocked its head to one side and flew up at her face making her recoil in surprise, muttering an oath in Guiadonese. The bird opened its beak but the noise that it emitted definitely wasn't anything it should have been able to make. Rani made as if to swat it away when there was a woosh of air and suddenly she was falling backwards onto a leafy floor. She landed hard, not comprehending what was going on for several seconds before it came to her in a rush. Somehow she'd left the church and now she was back in the woods but unlike the warm and almost welcoming feeling it had given her before it seemed cold, almost haunting. "Mael said you'd be here." A leery voice came from behind her making her freeze. "He definitely knows how to pick 'em." She turned slowly to see three men stood behind her - each was dressed in well worn clothing and it looked like they each had been travelling hard for seveeral days with stubble marring each of their sneers. The man who spoke was tallest, a rake of a man with wicked green eyes and lank black hair. To his left was a blond, standing not much taller than Rani but a lot more heavily built, his hair covered his eyes almost making his nose - which looked like it had been broken more than just a couple of times - seem even more prominent. The third seemed to take the height of the first man and the broadness of the second to form some kind of towering monster; he was bald with a jagged scar trailing from above his left eye over the top of his head. "Where am I?" Rani demanded her hand creeping round her back to her dagger sheath, taking some comfort in the hilt as she wrapped her fingers round it. "And who are you all? "Not far from where you were." the thin man said casually, his accent fairly thick. "And we're friends of Mael... well... you kow him as Mael at least - he just told us to refer to him as that. "Merde..." Rani hissed, glancing between the three. They didn't look armed, but even so - she doubted she could take all of them with just her dagger. "And what exactly did that particular bastard tell you?" "Ask ze boss..." the talker said with a grin, motioning behind her. Despite herself, she half turned to see the sparrow fromt he church landing on the soft, leafy floor. It seemed to shift and change shape slowly before her eyes, transfixing her as the tiny bird became a grossly obese man in very ill fitting finery. He leered at her, taking a step towards her. Rani stepped back without thinking, repulsed by the man. He was a good head taller than her and fatter than ogres that she'd seen; his head was crowned by long, greasy black hair, but it was his eyes that scared her the most as they bored into her almost hungrily with a inhuman red shine to them. "He told me that you tasted delicious..." his voice was sickening, crooning and almost smothering as it hung in the air. She ripped the dagger from her scabbard, warning him not to come any closer when suddenly he was in front of her, forcing her hand away with one large overpowering fist while the other pulled her forward. He kissed her hard on the lips, biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood before pulling back slightly, still not letting her go, as she fought the urge to retch as a taste of smoke, old meat and ash lingered in her mouth. "He wasn't wrong." he sneered as he savoured the taste of her blood. Rani struggled against her captor, kicking him in the shins hard and spitting in his face when he didn't even flinch. She stared at him as if her force of will and the venom in her eyes was her last weapon. He laughed in her face and the rotten smell assailed her nostrils making her recoil. "Ahh, such fire... that Guiadonese passion... how fun it will be to break that..." He released the grip on her back and drew a dagger from his belt, bringing it up for her to see. It was a vicious looking blade, easily eighteen inches long, barbed on one side and glowing with a sickly purple hue that hurt her eyes to look at. Before she knew it the dagger had moved and pain flared across her cheek as he lightly cut her. Blood started to flow and the obese man gave a sharp pull on her wrist so he could draw his tongue - too long and thin to be natural along it as if it was a delicay. Rani winced, grinding her teeth as she tried to twist her wrist away from the mans grip, stamping on his feet and aiming her knee at his groin trying to break free. His skin was hard and unyielding though and did nothing except inflict a dull aching on her body to go with the sharp pain of the dagger wound.
Back at the church, Aylix jerked awake suddenly, alert and mindful of his surroundings briefly before he relaxed again. "Ugh... I must have dozed off..." he said with a groan, pushing himself to his feet, working the protesting aches out of his body as he turned back to the church. "Rani? You awake yet?" he called softly, his boots making a soft clicking on the flagstone floor. "Rani?" It was obvious that she had gone and from the pair of boots still lying on floor he guessed that where ever it was, she didn't go voluntarily. "Rani?" he called slightly louder, moving between the four rooms of the building and quickly exhausting a search. "Shit." Grabbing his warhammer he rushed for the door, shouting loudly into the woods. "RANI!"
The four men laugehd cruelly as the fat man shook his head dispairingly at her, his fingernails digging into the skin of her wrists almost hard enough to draw blood. Each of her blows was completely ineffectual. "Oh little human, you know you can't hurt us..." Her eyes widened, struggling more wildly, but doing nothing more than working the fingernails deeper into her skin. A blossom of hope rose in her chest as she heard Aylix's shout. "AYLIX!" she shrieked in response, elicting a snarl and a backhand from the fat man. "Help will do you no good, bitch." her captor snarled.
Aylix broke into a run as Rani's scream reached him by the church and he broke into a run without even having to think about it. "Crowa, Tralda... Seven... I don't know if you can hear me, I don't know if I've ever done anything to prove myself to you but... I need your help." he prayed aloud as he ran. If the Gods of light had heard however, they gave no sign and before he could mull on it he found the area that they were in. He barreled into the shorter man, hammerhead first, knocking him to the floor. The fat man smirked, throwing the Guiadonese woman at the Ithronian who caught her round the waist pulling her close. "Are you okay?" Aylix muttered, sizing up their opponents. Rani winced, stroking her abused cheek and glancing at her bloody wrist. "If we get out... I'll be fine. T-they're not human." Aylix's heart sank but he didn't let it show on his face. "We'll be fine." he murmered to her before pointing his hammer at the fat man. "Who on Arda are you?" he demanded, his hammer held steady. "Ah... the Ithronian." the fat man guffawed. "Yes... Mael warned us about you as well." the three henchmen spread out, surrounding them in a kind of triangle as their leader started to walk around the humans. "Well... I say warned, he said you'd show up. A faithful puppy behind the fiery Guiadonese woman he's falling for." Aylix's eyes widened, glancing down at Rani. "How do you know who we..." he started, but the man waved his arms and suddenly sparked to life around Aylix, consuming him. Pain flared across every inch of his body as he staggered away from Rani, falling to his knees and roaring in pain. Rani screamed, falling back from the smouldering Ithronian, lashing out at one of the henchmen with her dagger. Almost effortlessly the bald man grabbed her wrist, throwing her back at Aylix. The flames extinguished as she landed back beside him - he was unharmed by the flames but he was still gasping for air as the pain subsided. "You shall speak when permitted human... Feel free to scream in pain at any time though..." the fat man grinned wickedly as pain born from purple flames consumed both the humans. "Now..." he said, stepping forward to Rani as the flames faded again pulling her to her feet by her throat. "I believe Mael promised you to be our plaything my dear..." "GET OFF OF HER!" Aylix roared, surging forward and trying to pull the fat mans hand away from her. It didn't budge and he leered at the Ithronian as the henchmen surged forward and pulled him back heavy handedly. Aylix fought back, lashing out with fist, hammer and boot but nothing seemed to work and in short order they beat him down - their inhuman feet and hands knocking the wind and, eventually, most of the fight out of him and the Ithronian slumped to the floor, bloody, bruised and winded. "Such heroism..." lamented the fat man. "See how he fights for you, flower? See how he fights to protect you." Again and again Aylix tried to push himself to his feet to fight off their attackers, to get to Rani and help her, but each time he got more beating for his trouble. The fat man had positioned her perfectly to watch every blow that landed and hear every grunt of pain the Ithronian uttered. "STOP IT! Leave him alone! If it's me you want, then let him go!" Rani whimpered, unable to be any louder because of the fat mans hand around her throat. She tugged at it with futility as she tried to loosen the grip. "You give yourself to us? Just like that...?" he looked bemused, raking his nails down the, so far, uninjured cheek and following it up with a heavy blow to the stomach before dropping her. The assault on Aylix stopped and after several long seconds he began to drag himself feebly towards her, grunting in pain at each movement. "How much does she mean to you Ithronian? Even bloody and bruised you still crawl to her to try and protect her... And she gives herself pretty quickly to us, not knowing what we'll do to her..." he the fat man leered, dropping a hand onto Rani's shoulder and onto her chest roughly. "Or maybe she does." The Guiadonese woman shivered with revulsion, coughing to try and get her breath back, swinging her dagger up into his arm with a swift motion. The dagger sank in, and the fat man regarded it with disinterest briefly before pulling it free, tossing it to one side casually then lashing out with the back of his hand, catching Rani across the face, knocking her to the floor, stunned. Aylix reached out to her, finding her hand as she cried out in pain, his dogged determination to reach her finally paying off. "Such devotion..." the fat man sighed, aiming a kick at Rani. With a surge of movement, Aylix threw himself in the way, taking the boot to the chest and crying out in pain as he felt something crack in his chest. "Y-you... fool..." Rani coughed, pulled Aylix close to her, out of their reach. "G-get yourself out of here." she spat blood, feeling her cheeks swelling with bruises. "T-these pains are nothing... I'll be fine." she glanced around for her dagger, her heart sinking when she spotted it far too far out of her reach. Aylix spat blood which landed wetly on the grass at the fat mans feet. "No..." he choked out. "Damnit, I can't... I'm not leaving you." With a snarl of agony he pushed himself upwards to his feet, taking hold of his hammer - still attached to his wrist with the leather strap - and attempting some kind of fighting stance, despite barely being able to raise his weapon. "Leave... her... alone..." The fat man shook his head. "What should I do with him?" he asked looking at Rani, around Aylix. "Me! Look at... Look at me!" the Ithronian coughed, spitting out blood again taking a clumsy swing at the man. The fat man blocked the haft of the hammer with his forarm and drove his fist into Aylix's face and the stomach faster than either of the humans eyes could follow, leaving the captain to fall to the floor where he curled up into a ball instinctively as he struggled to breath. The fat man watched on with a detached curiousity as Aylix once again tried to stand. "Aylix, no... stop..." Rani growled, catching his arm and forcing him down, fumbling at the pouch on his belt. "Please... it'll be okay... you'll be okay..." she glanced around her as she struggled to find a potion that would help. "No... none of that." the fat man tutted gesturing at the woman before she could find anything. She was thrown away from Aylix and engulfed in fire again, her screams piercing the night air again. "You two need to be seperated..." the man mused as the fire subsided, leaving Rani untouched and unscorched. "I think I'll just kill him, because if we let him go he'll only come back for revenge for what we do to you..." he sneered at Rani, staring at her hungrily, his eyes slowly travelling over her entire body. The revulsion whelled up inside her again as she gasped for air, not noting the nod from the fat man and she found herself dragged to her feet by her hair. Her soul began to ache as the fat man stepped around Aylix slowly. "Last chance to say goobye." he intoned, causing Aylix to raise his face - puffy and swollen, one eye half closed - to look at Rani. She whimpered, struggling in vain. "Please... don't kill him... I'm begging you..." she went limp, dropping to her knees, barely noticing the resultant pain in her scalp against the rest of the agony in her body. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she watched Aylix desperately, her mind racing. She swallowed, making a descision with herself. closing her eyes. "Let him live... Let him go and... you can do what you want with me - I-I won't struggle." "No." the fat mans face creased into a frown, vestiages of horns and pale red skin showing through. "No more bargins, no more deals. I'm going to kill him and you're going to watch every torturous drawn out second of it... Then we're going to inflict more pain than you ever had before in your life. Aylix whimped, trying to push himself upright, but his limbs no longer had the strength in them to move. "No... please..." "Humans and their theatrics, noble acts and heroism..." the fat man sighed before snarling and roaring at Rani. "And for what? What is the point of it? Why are you so willing to sacrifice yourself for him?" "If you've toyed with so many of us, why do you n-not know the answer already?" Rani trembled. "Let him go! Now!" she screamed, struggling again, trying to bite at the hand which moved to cover her mouth, but the skin was as hard as a rock and tasted like rotten eggs. "Mael said getting a straight answer out of you was next to impossible." the fat man growled, "But you can demand nothing." he was next to her faster than his bulk suggested should be possible and he backhanded her across the face. "Why?! Tell me why you're so willing to sacrifice yourself for him?" She spat as much as she could - both the taste of the hand and blood after the backhand - wincing in pain again. "B-because he's my friend..." she glanced at Aylix. "M-my companion." The fat man snarled, looking disgusted and turned away moving to stand behind Aylix as the Ithronian still stared at Rani, still determined to try to struggle to his feet. "Well say whatever else you need to say him and then say goodbye..." the fat man visage was falling away and his features were becoming more and more demonic as he slowly walked around the human, chanting slowly. "NO! Stop... Please!" she screamed, tears coursing down her cheeks. " A-Aylix!" emotion ripped through her as she strained against her restraints. "Rani..." he choked out, meeting her eyes as tears fell from his eyes. "I'm sorry for all of this..." The demon paused once, speaking a foul demonic tongue that burnt the air around them. "... I don't think I've felt this happy to be with someone in a lomg time..." A second pause, a second incantation." "D-don't leave me..." Rani's voice dropped to a whimper. "I love you." "I love you too..." Aylix's voice broke as he gripped his hammer - the one lifeline he had. The pendant around Rani's throat flared with light seemingly invisible to the demons and Aylix but almost blinding to her. 'And in love may there be hope eternal granted.' spoke a voice, that was full of warmth and comfort. It faded quickly and she blinked as the light was replaced with the sight of the demon standing and bowing. "RANI!" Aylix's voice cracked as the demon spoke once more , his voice reaching a pitched crescendo. With an empatic gesture several things happened at once. Aylix was once again set ablaze but now he was being consumed. The flesh burnt slowly on his bones, Aylix's scream of pain more terrible than anything she had heard before. The next two minutes seemed to take forever as the smell of his skin burning filled the air. The screams continued and seemed to reverberate in the air long after Aylix was reduced to ash. As the first flames sprang into life Rani's soul wrenched and she screamed in agony as he chest seemingly try to tear itself apart, But again - invisible to the demons - the light from her pendant flooded the area and a voice spoke to her. 'I can do nothing for the pain... and for that I am sorry - but your soul is still your own...' When everything had finished, the light faded, the smell hung in the around her chokingly. The ash danced on the breeze, clinging to her skin which was wet with cold swear. He head was suddenly yanked backwards sharply to reveal the fat man, now a grotesque blob of a demon, stood before her, leering. "Now... for you..."
Aylix's wasn't sure when he stopped screaming, or where the indescribable agony had gone or when both had been replaced with the cool, yet slightly uncomfortable, flagstones beneath him. He gave a weak laugh as he realised that he was mentally complaining about the stones being uncomfortable when he had just been completely and uttery consumed by fire. The fire! Rani!
He scrabbled to his feet unsteadily, using his hammer as a crutch - the pain in his body retreating, his wounds completely gone. He looked around and realised he was back in the church hall. "What... what happened?" he groaned softly as a wave of dizziness passed over him.
"Love happened..." the voice from behind him was soft and warm but full of strength. He turned slowly to see a woman standing behind him. She was flawless with perfect porcelain skin, resplendent in flawless silver and gold armour over intricately stitched red robes. A greatsword was strapped to her back, almost hidden beneath her hair which shined a dazzling golden and tumbled down her back like a waterfall to her waist. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, but as he looked he realised that she was beautiful that was almost inhuman and she had an otherworldly quality about her. "...and that's what saved you."
The Ithronian found himself dry mouthed as he struggled not to gawp. "What... what do you mean?" he managed eventually.
"You must have realised that this is a fight you cannot win - despite your determination..." the woman said, her voice like a choir chorus. "So I'm here to ask - what would you do to save her?"
"Anything. Short of make deal with them." he replied without hesitation, eliciting a heart melting smile from the woman.
"Lady Crowa is willing to give you both the power to defeat the abominations, but you will owe her..."
"I'll do it." He cut in, not caring what the cost was. The woman stared at him patiently.
"But you will owe her. A quest or work in her name."
"I don't care. Anything, anything I can do to save her, I will do it. Anything Lady Crowa wants me to do, any time she wants to call on me, please... Anything."
The woman smiled sadly and she stepped to him. "This is the only time She can intervene in this."
"I'll keep Rani safe from her." his voice didn't waver and his eyes hardened with determination.
The woman looked pityingly at him, laying a hand on his cheek. "Well go then Aylix Goth. Be the champion your heart sings out to be."
Her hand was delicate, but full of power and flames touched Aylix again. But this time they were fortifying, they were filled with holy red light and they filled Aylix with divine power.
Two of the demons held Rani's arms spread apart as the fat demon circled her, leering at the helpless Guiadonese woman. Both of her cheeks and her neck was bleeding slowly, her body ached and at some point after Aylix's death she had vomited - the taste of the bile still fresh in her mouth.
"Have you ever been tortured before Rani? Ever felt like you were being flayed from the inside out? I could spend days tortuing a beautiful example like you... day after day causing you all measure of pain... Ripping at your flesh, you mind and your soul..." he stopped in front of her, regarding the puddle of vomit at his feet briefly before gripping her face with a twisted, bloated hand. "Where should I started with you? I could show you his death again and again... I could show you your family, burning and screaming in pain while you watched... I could flay you, strip by strip and tear your soul from you piece by piece..."
Rani winced as the demon ran it's tongue across her cheek, lapping up the blood. "And you volunteered for this. Again and again so that I would spare the Ithronian... the man you admitted that you loved..." his claws flashed out suddenly and when the pain caught up with her she had gashes across both biceps, her stomach and chest. "Was it worth it?"
Rani cried out in pain, falling limply in her captors grasp. "You... you didn't spare him though." she sobbed as fresh blood spread across her skin.
"I get sick of human pandering and while the drawn out suffering and torture is most delicious, sometimes that instant gratification is what you need... That jolt of enjoyment! Sudden and..." he licked some more blood from her pale skin, "...exquisite..."
Rani flinched again as the creatures tongue touched her, her eyes falling to the floor - refusing to look at him. The pain where he had slashed her made it hard to struggled and her shoulders ached from how she was slumped, but she didn't have the strength to stand. She tried feebly to push away from them with her legs, tried to push herself backwards, but her movements only managed to elicit sick chuckles of the ones holding her. The gash on her chest was making breathing painful and she suddenly became aware of what her ruined clothing might be revealing.
"There is a lot of... sudden enjoyment that could be had with you..." the demon murmured, stroking a finger across the gash on her chest before sucking it into his mouth to further enjoy the taste of her blood. "I don't think I've ha...." he paused as a wind started to whip round the woodland. It was powerful and had started seemingly out of no where - buffeting the trees so they creaked and throwing the leaves into a frenzy. The demons looked at each other, concern on their faces for the first time.
"What in the Seven Pits?!" the fat demon snarled as the others let go of Rani as they flinched against the gale force winds, bracing themselves against it. Rani stared up at them in shock - even though she could feel the wind, it didn't seem to touch her like it should as if she was in a calm eye of the storm.
She shook with cold and fear, watching the demons as they fought again the wind. "What's going on..." she whispered.
There was a sudden movement at her side and Aylix was there, bathed in a glow of red light. Seemingly healed of all his wounds and pain. He knelt for a second, wordlessly before placing a hand on her shoulder. Warmth, strength and power flowed through her body - her pain fled before the aura of light and she felt completely invigorated.
"YOU!" the fat demon screeched as it spotted the Ithronian. "I killed you!"
"Crowa had something to say about that." Aylix's voice boomed around the close copse of trees; it had a newfound resolution about it and fire burned in his eyes. He stood suddenly, hefting his hammer to rest on his shoulder easily as he helped Rani to her feet before handing her a greatsword. She took it, shocked - unsure of the situation, unsure of the power that flowed through her and unsure of the way the demons seemed to stare at them in abjact terror. The sword - she found - was perfectly balanced in such a way that should be able to use it as easily as a stick of wood.
"Do you want the fat one?" Aylix asked her, looking between the large demon and the group of three other ones.
She nodded in reply, turning to face the grotesque demon and starting towards it as it retreated away from her several paces.
Aylix grinned and stared down the three lackey demons, running his tongue over his teeth. His hammer burned with the same red fire as the greatsword Rani now carried and the demons cowered away from it in fear.
"Pathetic." Aylix spat as he darted forward suddenly with his hammer landing in amongst the demons who dodged, blocked and parried his attackles frantically as he swung it like a whirlwind amongst them. The short one and the large broad demon were despatched quickly in the initial flurry, but the taller one was able to get some ground, weilding two short swords.
Rani sprang forward, swinging the sword in a large arc - aiming to cut the demon in half. Her face contorted in rage as she pursued him remorselessly. The demon dodged out of the way - barely - again and again.
"You said something about sudden enjoyment?" Rani said grimly, scoring several light blows on the beast.
"Damn humans! Damn you to Sharda!" it bellowed, desperately trying to get enough space so that he could change his shape. Rani was relentless, weilding the blade with deadly accuracy like it was an extension of her being. The demon stumbled, falling onto its back and snarling up at Rani as she brought the sword up to finish it off. The smell of sulfer filled the air, heavy, choking and thick. The demons form shimmered as the magics holding it together faded. "Bitch. Mael is still waiting... you won't beat him so easily..." It suddenly leered at her. "And I'll be waiting for you in Sharda when he claims your soul..."
"My soul is my own." she glowered in return bringing the sword down heavily. The demon exploded in a shower of purple miasma, threatening briefly to choke her before disappating.
Several meters away from her, Aylix sidestepped his remaining opponnent, swinging his hammer round his head briefly before swinging for its head, banishing the demon back to its foul pit.
The demons gone, the power surrounding them both faded, the wind dropped and an strange heavy silence fell over the area. Aylix turned and was at Rani's side in a second, catching her as she fell. "Seven..." he breathed, embracing her. "I though... I..." tears pricked his eyes as he fell silent, pulling her close as she burst into tears, shaking in his arms.
Enjoy.
((Disclaimer - while based in the FnH world - this is a lot darker than FnH would usually get in LARP and possibly suggests things Just Not Done in the LARP setting. Just so you know.))
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Aylix sighed, staring out into the quiet woods around them with something approaching dispair. The woman in the very small church building behind him drove him absolutely crazy - he didn't think he'd ever known anyone to be as closed off as she was and the fact that he was... He caught the line of thought before it could carry on. No, that was daft. They travelled together because it was safer that way and they spent every night between the sheets together because well that's what people do when they're attracted to each other and each day ends with the buzz of adrenaline in their ears. He poked at the small piece of wood he had brought out with him with his knife for a couple of minutes without any real intent and discarded it as twlight took the woods. A wave of drowsiness passed over him and even as he brought his hand up to rub at his tired eyes conciousness escaped him to be replaced with gentle snores. As if taking some kind of cue a sparrow flickered past him inside the church, landing in the small side room in front of the bed Rani was now sitting on, rubbing rubbing the balls of her feet as if trying to work out the ache of the last couple of months of travel. The bird chirruped, as if to catch her attention and she glanced up at it, bemused as her thumbs worked on the soles of her feet as it hopped from side to side. Losing interest after a few seconds, she glanced back down at her tired feet with a slight whimper. "I wonder if I could ask the Ithronian to massage them without him making some kind of sarcastic remark..." she mused aloud catching sight of the bird fluttering up to the bedside stand. It was starting to get slightly unnerving the way it was just watching her, staring with almost a malignant intelligence. "You're being stupid Rani, it's just a bird." she murmered. The bird cocked its head to one side and flew up at her face making her recoil in surprise, muttering an oath in Guiadonese. The bird opened its beak but the noise that it emitted definitely wasn't anything it should have been able to make. Rani made as if to swat it away when there was a woosh of air and suddenly she was falling backwards onto a leafy floor. She landed hard, not comprehending what was going on for several seconds before it came to her in a rush. Somehow she'd left the church and now she was back in the woods but unlike the warm and almost welcoming feeling it had given her before it seemed cold, almost haunting. "Mael said you'd be here." A leery voice came from behind her making her freeze. "He definitely knows how to pick 'em." She turned slowly to see three men stood behind her - each was dressed in well worn clothing and it looked like they each had been travelling hard for seveeral days with stubble marring each of their sneers. The man who spoke was tallest, a rake of a man with wicked green eyes and lank black hair. To his left was a blond, standing not much taller than Rani but a lot more heavily built, his hair covered his eyes almost making his nose - which looked like it had been broken more than just a couple of times - seem even more prominent. The third seemed to take the height of the first man and the broadness of the second to form some kind of towering monster; he was bald with a jagged scar trailing from above his left eye over the top of his head. "Where am I?" Rani demanded her hand creeping round her back to her dagger sheath, taking some comfort in the hilt as she wrapped her fingers round it. "And who are you all? "Not far from where you were." the thin man said casually, his accent fairly thick. "And we're friends of Mael... well... you kow him as Mael at least - he just told us to refer to him as that. "Merde..." Rani hissed, glancing between the three. They didn't look armed, but even so - she doubted she could take all of them with just her dagger. "And what exactly did that particular bastard tell you?" "Ask ze boss..." the talker said with a grin, motioning behind her. Despite herself, she half turned to see the sparrow fromt he church landing on the soft, leafy floor. It seemed to shift and change shape slowly before her eyes, transfixing her as the tiny bird became a grossly obese man in very ill fitting finery. He leered at her, taking a step towards her. Rani stepped back without thinking, repulsed by the man. He was a good head taller than her and fatter than ogres that she'd seen; his head was crowned by long, greasy black hair, but it was his eyes that scared her the most as they bored into her almost hungrily with a inhuman red shine to them. "He told me that you tasted delicious..." his voice was sickening, crooning and almost smothering as it hung in the air. She ripped the dagger from her scabbard, warning him not to come any closer when suddenly he was in front of her, forcing her hand away with one large overpowering fist while the other pulled her forward. He kissed her hard on the lips, biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood before pulling back slightly, still not letting her go, as she fought the urge to retch as a taste of smoke, old meat and ash lingered in her mouth. "He wasn't wrong." he sneered as he savoured the taste of her blood. Rani struggled against her captor, kicking him in the shins hard and spitting in his face when he didn't even flinch. She stared at him as if her force of will and the venom in her eyes was her last weapon. He laughed in her face and the rotten smell assailed her nostrils making her recoil. "Ahh, such fire... that Guiadonese passion... how fun it will be to break that..." He released the grip on her back and drew a dagger from his belt, bringing it up for her to see. It was a vicious looking blade, easily eighteen inches long, barbed on one side and glowing with a sickly purple hue that hurt her eyes to look at. Before she knew it the dagger had moved and pain flared across her cheek as he lightly cut her. Blood started to flow and the obese man gave a sharp pull on her wrist so he could draw his tongue - too long and thin to be natural along it as if it was a delicay. Rani winced, grinding her teeth as she tried to twist her wrist away from the mans grip, stamping on his feet and aiming her knee at his groin trying to break free. His skin was hard and unyielding though and did nothing except inflict a dull aching on her body to go with the sharp pain of the dagger wound.
Back at the church, Aylix jerked awake suddenly, alert and mindful of his surroundings briefly before he relaxed again. "Ugh... I must have dozed off..." he said with a groan, pushing himself to his feet, working the protesting aches out of his body as he turned back to the church. "Rani? You awake yet?" he called softly, his boots making a soft clicking on the flagstone floor. "Rani?" It was obvious that she had gone and from the pair of boots still lying on floor he guessed that where ever it was, she didn't go voluntarily. "Rani?" he called slightly louder, moving between the four rooms of the building and quickly exhausting a search. "Shit." Grabbing his warhammer he rushed for the door, shouting loudly into the woods. "RANI!"
The four men laugehd cruelly as the fat man shook his head dispairingly at her, his fingernails digging into the skin of her wrists almost hard enough to draw blood. Each of her blows was completely ineffectual. "Oh little human, you know you can't hurt us..." Her eyes widened, struggling more wildly, but doing nothing more than working the fingernails deeper into her skin. A blossom of hope rose in her chest as she heard Aylix's shout. "AYLIX!" she shrieked in response, elicting a snarl and a backhand from the fat man. "Help will do you no good, bitch." her captor snarled.
Aylix broke into a run as Rani's scream reached him by the church and he broke into a run without even having to think about it. "Crowa, Tralda... Seven... I don't know if you can hear me, I don't know if I've ever done anything to prove myself to you but... I need your help." he prayed aloud as he ran. If the Gods of light had heard however, they gave no sign and before he could mull on it he found the area that they were in. He barreled into the shorter man, hammerhead first, knocking him to the floor. The fat man smirked, throwing the Guiadonese woman at the Ithronian who caught her round the waist pulling her close. "Are you okay?" Aylix muttered, sizing up their opponents. Rani winced, stroking her abused cheek and glancing at her bloody wrist. "If we get out... I'll be fine. T-they're not human." Aylix's heart sank but he didn't let it show on his face. "We'll be fine." he murmered to her before pointing his hammer at the fat man. "Who on Arda are you?" he demanded, his hammer held steady. "Ah... the Ithronian." the fat man guffawed. "Yes... Mael warned us about you as well." the three henchmen spread out, surrounding them in a kind of triangle as their leader started to walk around the humans. "Well... I say warned, he said you'd show up. A faithful puppy behind the fiery Guiadonese woman he's falling for." Aylix's eyes widened, glancing down at Rani. "How do you know who we..." he started, but the man waved his arms and suddenly sparked to life around Aylix, consuming him. Pain flared across every inch of his body as he staggered away from Rani, falling to his knees and roaring in pain. Rani screamed, falling back from the smouldering Ithronian, lashing out at one of the henchmen with her dagger. Almost effortlessly the bald man grabbed her wrist, throwing her back at Aylix. The flames extinguished as she landed back beside him - he was unharmed by the flames but he was still gasping for air as the pain subsided. "You shall speak when permitted human... Feel free to scream in pain at any time though..." the fat man grinned wickedly as pain born from purple flames consumed both the humans. "Now..." he said, stepping forward to Rani as the flames faded again pulling her to her feet by her throat. "I believe Mael promised you to be our plaything my dear..." "GET OFF OF HER!" Aylix roared, surging forward and trying to pull the fat mans hand away from her. It didn't budge and he leered at the Ithronian as the henchmen surged forward and pulled him back heavy handedly. Aylix fought back, lashing out with fist, hammer and boot but nothing seemed to work and in short order they beat him down - their inhuman feet and hands knocking the wind and, eventually, most of the fight out of him and the Ithronian slumped to the floor, bloody, bruised and winded. "Such heroism..." lamented the fat man. "See how he fights for you, flower? See how he fights to protect you." Again and again Aylix tried to push himself to his feet to fight off their attackers, to get to Rani and help her, but each time he got more beating for his trouble. The fat man had positioned her perfectly to watch every blow that landed and hear every grunt of pain the Ithronian uttered. "STOP IT! Leave him alone! If it's me you want, then let him go!" Rani whimpered, unable to be any louder because of the fat mans hand around her throat. She tugged at it with futility as she tried to loosen the grip. "You give yourself to us? Just like that...?" he looked bemused, raking his nails down the, so far, uninjured cheek and following it up with a heavy blow to the stomach before dropping her. The assault on Aylix stopped and after several long seconds he began to drag himself feebly towards her, grunting in pain at each movement. "How much does she mean to you Ithronian? Even bloody and bruised you still crawl to her to try and protect her... And she gives herself pretty quickly to us, not knowing what we'll do to her..." he the fat man leered, dropping a hand onto Rani's shoulder and onto her chest roughly. "Or maybe she does." The Guiadonese woman shivered with revulsion, coughing to try and get her breath back, swinging her dagger up into his arm with a swift motion. The dagger sank in, and the fat man regarded it with disinterest briefly before pulling it free, tossing it to one side casually then lashing out with the back of his hand, catching Rani across the face, knocking her to the floor, stunned. Aylix reached out to her, finding her hand as she cried out in pain, his dogged determination to reach her finally paying off. "Such devotion..." the fat man sighed, aiming a kick at Rani. With a surge of movement, Aylix threw himself in the way, taking the boot to the chest and crying out in pain as he felt something crack in his chest. "Y-you... fool..." Rani coughed, pulled Aylix close to her, out of their reach. "G-get yourself out of here." she spat blood, feeling her cheeks swelling with bruises. "T-these pains are nothing... I'll be fine." she glanced around for her dagger, her heart sinking when she spotted it far too far out of her reach. Aylix spat blood which landed wetly on the grass at the fat mans feet. "No..." he choked out. "Damnit, I can't... I'm not leaving you." With a snarl of agony he pushed himself upwards to his feet, taking hold of his hammer - still attached to his wrist with the leather strap - and attempting some kind of fighting stance, despite barely being able to raise his weapon. "Leave... her... alone..." The fat man shook his head. "What should I do with him?" he asked looking at Rani, around Aylix. "Me! Look at... Look at me!" the Ithronian coughed, spitting out blood again taking a clumsy swing at the man. The fat man blocked the haft of the hammer with his forarm and drove his fist into Aylix's face and the stomach faster than either of the humans eyes could follow, leaving the captain to fall to the floor where he curled up into a ball instinctively as he struggled to breath. The fat man watched on with a detached curiousity as Aylix once again tried to stand. "Aylix, no... stop..." Rani growled, catching his arm and forcing him down, fumbling at the pouch on his belt. "Please... it'll be okay... you'll be okay..." she glanced around her as she struggled to find a potion that would help. "No... none of that." the fat man tutted gesturing at the woman before she could find anything. She was thrown away from Aylix and engulfed in fire again, her screams piercing the night air again. "You two need to be seperated..." the man mused as the fire subsided, leaving Rani untouched and unscorched. "I think I'll just kill him, because if we let him go he'll only come back for revenge for what we do to you..." he sneered at Rani, staring at her hungrily, his eyes slowly travelling over her entire body. The revulsion whelled up inside her again as she gasped for air, not noting the nod from the fat man and she found herself dragged to her feet by her hair. Her soul began to ache as the fat man stepped around Aylix slowly. "Last chance to say goobye." he intoned, causing Aylix to raise his face - puffy and swollen, one eye half closed - to look at Rani. She whimpered, struggling in vain. "Please... don't kill him... I'm begging you..." she went limp, dropping to her knees, barely noticing the resultant pain in her scalp against the rest of the agony in her body. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she watched Aylix desperately, her mind racing. She swallowed, making a descision with herself. closing her eyes. "Let him live... Let him go and... you can do what you want with me - I-I won't struggle." "No." the fat mans face creased into a frown, vestiages of horns and pale red skin showing through. "No more bargins, no more deals. I'm going to kill him and you're going to watch every torturous drawn out second of it... Then we're going to inflict more pain than you ever had before in your life. Aylix whimped, trying to push himself upright, but his limbs no longer had the strength in them to move. "No... please..." "Humans and their theatrics, noble acts and heroism..." the fat man sighed before snarling and roaring at Rani. "And for what? What is the point of it? Why are you so willing to sacrifice yourself for him?" "If you've toyed with so many of us, why do you n-not know the answer already?" Rani trembled. "Let him go! Now!" she screamed, struggling again, trying to bite at the hand which moved to cover her mouth, but the skin was as hard as a rock and tasted like rotten eggs. "Mael said getting a straight answer out of you was next to impossible." the fat man growled, "But you can demand nothing." he was next to her faster than his bulk suggested should be possible and he backhanded her across the face. "Why?! Tell me why you're so willing to sacrifice yourself for him?" She spat as much as she could - both the taste of the hand and blood after the backhand - wincing in pain again. "B-because he's my friend..." she glanced at Aylix. "M-my companion." The fat man snarled, looking disgusted and turned away moving to stand behind Aylix as the Ithronian still stared at Rani, still determined to try to struggle to his feet. "Well say whatever else you need to say him and then say goodbye..." the fat man visage was falling away and his features were becoming more and more demonic as he slowly walked around the human, chanting slowly. "NO! Stop... Please!" she screamed, tears coursing down her cheeks. " A-Aylix!" emotion ripped through her as she strained against her restraints. "Rani..." he choked out, meeting her eyes as tears fell from his eyes. "I'm sorry for all of this..." The demon paused once, speaking a foul demonic tongue that burnt the air around them. "... I don't think I've felt this happy to be with someone in a lomg time..." A second pause, a second incantation." "D-don't leave me..." Rani's voice dropped to a whimper. "I love you." "I love you too..." Aylix's voice broke as he gripped his hammer - the one lifeline he had. The pendant around Rani's throat flared with light seemingly invisible to the demons and Aylix but almost blinding to her. 'And in love may there be hope eternal granted.' spoke a voice, that was full of warmth and comfort. It faded quickly and she blinked as the light was replaced with the sight of the demon standing and bowing. "RANI!" Aylix's voice cracked as the demon spoke once more , his voice reaching a pitched crescendo. With an empatic gesture several things happened at once. Aylix was once again set ablaze but now he was being consumed. The flesh burnt slowly on his bones, Aylix's scream of pain more terrible than anything she had heard before. The next two minutes seemed to take forever as the smell of his skin burning filled the air. The screams continued and seemed to reverberate in the air long after Aylix was reduced to ash. As the first flames sprang into life Rani's soul wrenched and she screamed in agony as he chest seemingly try to tear itself apart, But again - invisible to the demons - the light from her pendant flooded the area and a voice spoke to her. 'I can do nothing for the pain... and for that I am sorry - but your soul is still your own...' When everything had finished, the light faded, the smell hung in the around her chokingly. The ash danced on the breeze, clinging to her skin which was wet with cold swear. He head was suddenly yanked backwards sharply to reveal the fat man, now a grotesque blob of a demon, stood before her, leering. "Now... for you..."
Aylix's wasn't sure when he stopped screaming, or where the indescribable agony had gone or when both had been replaced with the cool, yet slightly uncomfortable, flagstones beneath him. He gave a weak laugh as he realised that he was mentally complaining about the stones being uncomfortable when he had just been completely and uttery consumed by fire. The fire! Rani!
He scrabbled to his feet unsteadily, using his hammer as a crutch - the pain in his body retreating, his wounds completely gone. He looked around and realised he was back in the church hall. "What... what happened?" he groaned softly as a wave of dizziness passed over him.
"Love happened..." the voice from behind him was soft and warm but full of strength. He turned slowly to see a woman standing behind him. She was flawless with perfect porcelain skin, resplendent in flawless silver and gold armour over intricately stitched red robes. A greatsword was strapped to her back, almost hidden beneath her hair which shined a dazzling golden and tumbled down her back like a waterfall to her waist. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, but as he looked he realised that she was beautiful that was almost inhuman and she had an otherworldly quality about her. "...and that's what saved you."
The Ithronian found himself dry mouthed as he struggled not to gawp. "What... what do you mean?" he managed eventually.
"You must have realised that this is a fight you cannot win - despite your determination..." the woman said, her voice like a choir chorus. "So I'm here to ask - what would you do to save her?"
"Anything. Short of make deal with them." he replied without hesitation, eliciting a heart melting smile from the woman.
"Lady Crowa is willing to give you both the power to defeat the abominations, but you will owe her..."
"I'll do it." He cut in, not caring what the cost was. The woman stared at him patiently.
"But you will owe her. A quest or work in her name."
"I don't care. Anything, anything I can do to save her, I will do it. Anything Lady Crowa wants me to do, any time she wants to call on me, please... Anything."
The woman smiled sadly and she stepped to him. "This is the only time She can intervene in this."
"I'll keep Rani safe from her." his voice didn't waver and his eyes hardened with determination.
The woman looked pityingly at him, laying a hand on his cheek. "Well go then Aylix Goth. Be the champion your heart sings out to be."
Her hand was delicate, but full of power and flames touched Aylix again. But this time they were fortifying, they were filled with holy red light and they filled Aylix with divine power.
Two of the demons held Rani's arms spread apart as the fat demon circled her, leering at the helpless Guiadonese woman. Both of her cheeks and her neck was bleeding slowly, her body ached and at some point after Aylix's death she had vomited - the taste of the bile still fresh in her mouth.
"Have you ever been tortured before Rani? Ever felt like you were being flayed from the inside out? I could spend days tortuing a beautiful example like you... day after day causing you all measure of pain... Ripping at your flesh, you mind and your soul..." he stopped in front of her, regarding the puddle of vomit at his feet briefly before gripping her face with a twisted, bloated hand. "Where should I started with you? I could show you his death again and again... I could show you your family, burning and screaming in pain while you watched... I could flay you, strip by strip and tear your soul from you piece by piece..."
Rani winced as the demon ran it's tongue across her cheek, lapping up the blood. "And you volunteered for this. Again and again so that I would spare the Ithronian... the man you admitted that you loved..." his claws flashed out suddenly and when the pain caught up with her she had gashes across both biceps, her stomach and chest. "Was it worth it?"
Rani cried out in pain, falling limply in her captors grasp. "You... you didn't spare him though." she sobbed as fresh blood spread across her skin.
"I get sick of human pandering and while the drawn out suffering and torture is most delicious, sometimes that instant gratification is what you need... That jolt of enjoyment! Sudden and..." he licked some more blood from her pale skin, "...exquisite..."
Rani flinched again as the creatures tongue touched her, her eyes falling to the floor - refusing to look at him. The pain where he had slashed her made it hard to struggled and her shoulders ached from how she was slumped, but she didn't have the strength to stand. She tried feebly to push away from them with her legs, tried to push herself backwards, but her movements only managed to elicit sick chuckles of the ones holding her. The gash on her chest was making breathing painful and she suddenly became aware of what her ruined clothing might be revealing.
"There is a lot of... sudden enjoyment that could be had with you..." the demon murmured, stroking a finger across the gash on her chest before sucking it into his mouth to further enjoy the taste of her blood. "I don't think I've ha...." he paused as a wind started to whip round the woodland. It was powerful and had started seemingly out of no where - buffeting the trees so they creaked and throwing the leaves into a frenzy. The demons looked at each other, concern on their faces for the first time.
"What in the Seven Pits?!" the fat demon snarled as the others let go of Rani as they flinched against the gale force winds, bracing themselves against it. Rani stared up at them in shock - even though she could feel the wind, it didn't seem to touch her like it should as if she was in a calm eye of the storm.
She shook with cold and fear, watching the demons as they fought again the wind. "What's going on..." she whispered.
There was a sudden movement at her side and Aylix was there, bathed in a glow of red light. Seemingly healed of all his wounds and pain. He knelt for a second, wordlessly before placing a hand on her shoulder. Warmth, strength and power flowed through her body - her pain fled before the aura of light and she felt completely invigorated.
"YOU!" the fat demon screeched as it spotted the Ithronian. "I killed you!"
"Crowa had something to say about that." Aylix's voice boomed around the close copse of trees; it had a newfound resolution about it and fire burned in his eyes. He stood suddenly, hefting his hammer to rest on his shoulder easily as he helped Rani to her feet before handing her a greatsword. She took it, shocked - unsure of the situation, unsure of the power that flowed through her and unsure of the way the demons seemed to stare at them in abjact terror. The sword - she found - was perfectly balanced in such a way that should be able to use it as easily as a stick of wood.
"Do you want the fat one?" Aylix asked her, looking between the large demon and the group of three other ones.
She nodded in reply, turning to face the grotesque demon and starting towards it as it retreated away from her several paces.
Aylix grinned and stared down the three lackey demons, running his tongue over his teeth. His hammer burned with the same red fire as the greatsword Rani now carried and the demons cowered away from it in fear.
"Pathetic." Aylix spat as he darted forward suddenly with his hammer landing in amongst the demons who dodged, blocked and parried his attackles frantically as he swung it like a whirlwind amongst them. The short one and the large broad demon were despatched quickly in the initial flurry, but the taller one was able to get some ground, weilding two short swords.
Rani sprang forward, swinging the sword in a large arc - aiming to cut the demon in half. Her face contorted in rage as she pursued him remorselessly. The demon dodged out of the way - barely - again and again.
"You said something about sudden enjoyment?" Rani said grimly, scoring several light blows on the beast.
"Damn humans! Damn you to Sharda!" it bellowed, desperately trying to get enough space so that he could change his shape. Rani was relentless, weilding the blade with deadly accuracy like it was an extension of her being. The demon stumbled, falling onto its back and snarling up at Rani as she brought the sword up to finish it off. The smell of sulfer filled the air, heavy, choking and thick. The demons form shimmered as the magics holding it together faded. "Bitch. Mael is still waiting... you won't beat him so easily..." It suddenly leered at her. "And I'll be waiting for you in Sharda when he claims your soul..."
"My soul is my own." she glowered in return bringing the sword down heavily. The demon exploded in a shower of purple miasma, threatening briefly to choke her before disappating.
Several meters away from her, Aylix sidestepped his remaining opponnent, swinging his hammer round his head briefly before swinging for its head, banishing the demon back to its foul pit.
The demons gone, the power surrounding them both faded, the wind dropped and an strange heavy silence fell over the area. Aylix turned and was at Rani's side in a second, catching her as she fell. "Seven..." he breathed, embracing her. "I though... I..." tears pricked his eyes as he fell silent, pulling her close as she burst into tears, shaking in his arms.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Rage is a dangerous thing...
Bit darker I think. WIll end up being part of Aylix's backstory I think.
----
The bar room was thick with the smoke from a dozen or more pipes and smelt like someone had broken more than just a couple of casks across it's tarred floor. It was dark, stuffy and choking; its inhabitants stunk and the beer tasted like rat piss was actually the main ingrediant.
It was what Aylix needed at this moment in time.
He sat in one corner, a distant and farway look in his eyes, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it, tried to figure out why he had killed her. Why he had killed the woman he loved. The past few months, while far from perfect had been some of his best on Arda. Travelling across country with a stunning Guiadonese woman who spoke with just the right level of sultry and sarcasm, knew how to use a decent blade and... His jaw tightened as he closed his eyes against the images of her body that flashed on the inside of his iris'. Gods above she haad been incredible.
So why had he ran the steel through her? That sword, he had barely known it two days yet he it had seemed so familiar to him. Not that it mattered now - shattered into a thousand pieces at the side of the road...
His head dropped as the scene rushed back to him. The rain, the blood, the sword... Rani, breathing her last breath... Something seemed to be missing, there must be something he was missing. He had loved her. There had been no reason for him to kill her at all...
His fist clenched tight, his fingernails digging into his flesh - trying to use the pain in his hand to drown out the pain in his heart... but there was nothing that was about to crush that.
"Well... will you look at zat..." the voice cut through the haze was smug and full of self satisfaction, causing Aylix's eyes to snap open. In front of him was two men - one short and squat, standing a head or more shorter than the Ithronian; the other towered above him, taller than Aylix by more than a foot. Marc and Luc - that was the only names they had ever learned from them - possibly the first pair of people that he had pissed off in this country with Rani. Or for Rani... he'd saved her from having to spend the night with the squat, fat bastard. "If it isn't ze Ithronian? You've abandoned ze bitch I see." Marc leered. "You both 'ave left quite ze trail across Guiadon... following you both was easy." his eye narrowed. "I swore I'd take revenge on you both... no one shows up Marc L'Gredde. But it seemes someone beat me to it with ze bitch."
From behind his back Marc drew a dagger slowly, holding it up for Aylix to see. The Ithronian's eyes widened in horror as he recognised it, before glaring so darkly at the Guiadonese man that if the mercenary had had any power, he would have killed him outright.
"Ah... so it was 'er body we found." Marc barked a laugh, glancing over the dagger appraisingly. "What 'appened? Her mouth finally get her in trouble? Did you slap 'er around? Or did she just get bored of you?"
"Put it down. And get the fuck out." Aylix's voice could barely be heard over the background noise of the bar, and Marc leant forward over the table towards Aylix, the leer growing wider.
"What was zat? I didn't hear you?"
Aylix seized the man by the back of the thinning hair at the back of his skull and slammed it hard into the rough wood of the table in front of him. There was an explosive crack as Marc's nose shattered and blood sprayed across the table in a wide spray. As he bounced up again, Aylix had already brough his fist back and punched the man hard enough to break his jaw.
"Bathtad!" Marc choked over the blood pouring down his throat.
Luc rushed forwards, making a grab for Aylix as he side stepped, swinging the chair he had been sat on round from behind him, destroying it on the larger man's stomach and chest. Luc faltered, making another less precise grab for the mercenary who blocked it forcefully with the plate bracers he wore on his wrists, following it up with two heavy punches, born of fury and anger. Luc dropped down to one knee as the breath rushed from him, giving Aylix the opened to bring his leather boot up hard into the big mans face. Luc fell to the floor as more men emerged from the gloom, surrounding Aylix.
Not even giving them time to speak, the Ithronian was amongst them like a rabid dog. Fury filled his body and his limbs struck out indiscriminantly. Any blows he took he didn't seem to feel or react to he shed the blood and broke the bones of the five or six men who rushed him.
It was over in minutes and Aylix stood in a smoke screen surounded by bodies who were all groaning and writhing in agony on the floor.
Aylix returned to Marc who was struggling to his feet which was soon stopped as he brought a heavy boot down across the Guiadonese mans back. Marc growled in pain, as Aylix followed it up with a stamp on his wrist, forcing him to let go of what had been Rani's dagger.
Forcing Marc onto his back, Aylix dropped heavily with his knee into the mans sternum, rendering him breathless.
"Zis... isn't... over..." he choked out, almost managing to sneer.
Then he noticed the expression on Aylix's face and his face fell in terror.
"Yes it is." The Ithronian snarled, ripping the dagger across Marc's throat, spraying blood everywhere.
Aylix stood and stepped the few feet to Luc. The big mans back was to him and Aylix took the chance to grab him around the throat with his forearm. "See you in Sharda." he hissed into Luc's ear before driving the dagger into the side of his neck and tearing it roughly out again.
Leaving the two men in growing pools of their own blood and masked by the screen of smoke that filled the bar, Aylix sheathed the dagger and collected his pack and hammer leaving the bar without a backwards glance.
It was time to leave Guiadon.
----
The bar room was thick with the smoke from a dozen or more pipes and smelt like someone had broken more than just a couple of casks across it's tarred floor. It was dark, stuffy and choking; its inhabitants stunk and the beer tasted like rat piss was actually the main ingrediant.
It was what Aylix needed at this moment in time.
He sat in one corner, a distant and farway look in his eyes, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it, tried to figure out why he had killed her. Why he had killed the woman he loved. The past few months, while far from perfect had been some of his best on Arda. Travelling across country with a stunning Guiadonese woman who spoke with just the right level of sultry and sarcasm, knew how to use a decent blade and... His jaw tightened as he closed his eyes against the images of her body that flashed on the inside of his iris'. Gods above she haad been incredible.
So why had he ran the steel through her? That sword, he had barely known it two days yet he it had seemed so familiar to him. Not that it mattered now - shattered into a thousand pieces at the side of the road...
His head dropped as the scene rushed back to him. The rain, the blood, the sword... Rani, breathing her last breath... Something seemed to be missing, there must be something he was missing. He had loved her. There had been no reason for him to kill her at all...
His fist clenched tight, his fingernails digging into his flesh - trying to use the pain in his hand to drown out the pain in his heart... but there was nothing that was about to crush that.
"Well... will you look at zat..." the voice cut through the haze was smug and full of self satisfaction, causing Aylix's eyes to snap open. In front of him was two men - one short and squat, standing a head or more shorter than the Ithronian; the other towered above him, taller than Aylix by more than a foot. Marc and Luc - that was the only names they had ever learned from them - possibly the first pair of people that he had pissed off in this country with Rani. Or for Rani... he'd saved her from having to spend the night with the squat, fat bastard. "If it isn't ze Ithronian? You've abandoned ze bitch I see." Marc leered. "You both 'ave left quite ze trail across Guiadon... following you both was easy." his eye narrowed. "I swore I'd take revenge on you both... no one shows up Marc L'Gredde. But it seemes someone beat me to it with ze bitch."
From behind his back Marc drew a dagger slowly, holding it up for Aylix to see. The Ithronian's eyes widened in horror as he recognised it, before glaring so darkly at the Guiadonese man that if the mercenary had had any power, he would have killed him outright.
"Ah... so it was 'er body we found." Marc barked a laugh, glancing over the dagger appraisingly. "What 'appened? Her mouth finally get her in trouble? Did you slap 'er around? Or did she just get bored of you?"
"Put it down. And get the fuck out." Aylix's voice could barely be heard over the background noise of the bar, and Marc leant forward over the table towards Aylix, the leer growing wider.
"What was zat? I didn't hear you?"
Aylix seized the man by the back of the thinning hair at the back of his skull and slammed it hard into the rough wood of the table in front of him. There was an explosive crack as Marc's nose shattered and blood sprayed across the table in a wide spray. As he bounced up again, Aylix had already brough his fist back and punched the man hard enough to break his jaw.
"Bathtad!" Marc choked over the blood pouring down his throat.
Luc rushed forwards, making a grab for Aylix as he side stepped, swinging the chair he had been sat on round from behind him, destroying it on the larger man's stomach and chest. Luc faltered, making another less precise grab for the mercenary who blocked it forcefully with the plate bracers he wore on his wrists, following it up with two heavy punches, born of fury and anger. Luc dropped down to one knee as the breath rushed from him, giving Aylix the opened to bring his leather boot up hard into the big mans face. Luc fell to the floor as more men emerged from the gloom, surrounding Aylix.
Not even giving them time to speak, the Ithronian was amongst them like a rabid dog. Fury filled his body and his limbs struck out indiscriminantly. Any blows he took he didn't seem to feel or react to he shed the blood and broke the bones of the five or six men who rushed him.
It was over in minutes and Aylix stood in a smoke screen surounded by bodies who were all groaning and writhing in agony on the floor.
Aylix returned to Marc who was struggling to his feet which was soon stopped as he brought a heavy boot down across the Guiadonese mans back. Marc growled in pain, as Aylix followed it up with a stamp on his wrist, forcing him to let go of what had been Rani's dagger.
Forcing Marc onto his back, Aylix dropped heavily with his knee into the mans sternum, rendering him breathless.
"Zis... isn't... over..." he choked out, almost managing to sneer.
Then he noticed the expression on Aylix's face and his face fell in terror.
"Yes it is." The Ithronian snarled, ripping the dagger across Marc's throat, spraying blood everywhere.
Aylix stood and stepped the few feet to Luc. The big mans back was to him and Aylix took the chance to grab him around the throat with his forearm. "See you in Sharda." he hissed into Luc's ear before driving the dagger into the side of his neck and tearing it roughly out again.
Leaving the two men in growing pools of their own blood and masked by the screen of smoke that filled the bar, Aylix sheathed the dagger and collected his pack and hammer leaving the bar without a backwards glance.
It was time to leave Guiadon.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
On top of the world...
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Lahsaa shouted, his voice almost to the howling of the blizzard around them.
Rowan glanced back at him, her face almost entirely obscured by the heavy cloak and scarf. "Don't worry Lahsaa, I can still tell where is safe to tread and where will pitch ye down the mountain. Watch that stone by your right foot."
Lahsaa's foot froze and he lowered it slowly in front of the rock, testing his intended path with his staff. The stone slipped away almost immediately and flew off the edge.
The mages eye opened wide, staring first at where the rock had vanished and then at Rowan. She winked. "Come on, we're almost there." she motioned twelve feet above them. The spire they had come to find raised above them: Arda's Peak.
Climbing that last twelve feet was possibly the most difficult part of their long climb and it was with no small amount of struggle that the pair pulled themself over the final lip to stand before the massive tower. It was a construction that belied reason. Made of the purest white marble, it stretched up for an extra fifty feet above them. Its construction was quite unlike anything Lahsaa had ever seen before. It seemed to take building styles from everywhere, Dwarvish walls, Elven door frames, overhangs that looked vaguely Rumish and the mage was fairly sure that it would contain more examples inside as well. It seemed to be a mash of culture, style and design but it worked in an odd way. The building melded together seemlessly in a way that made it look grandiose, but also as if it were aware. As if it knew that it was the highest peak on Arda and used that vantage point to look down on the world.
Lahsaa shuddered in a way that he knew not from the cold. It was watching them, he was sure of it. It had taken him a while to realise it but the magic in the air here was so rich it was nearly palpable. It was magic in its purest form, its richest and its most stable. A quick glance around with his mage-sight showed him why - thirteen leylines converged on this tower and it seemed to hold them in a perfect balance.
"Wow..." he breathed, squinting against the snow storm as he tracked his eyes up the building.
"Lahsaa! Come on! Admire the inside rather than the outside!" Rowan shouted, giving him a light shove to get his attention.
With a nod they trudged through the snow that had been untouched for the Gods only knew how many years to the massive set of wooden doors that stood as the portal. The pair knew not to touch it, both using their various skills to check for hidden surprises or traps.
"Looks free of traps and religious energies, but that's no surprise." Rowan said, leaning towards Lahsaa to talk into his ear so as not to shout again.
The sorcerer frowned as he hovered his hand over the door, his eyes wide as his mage sight tried to pick out anything wrong with the door. But he was struggling, the magic was so thick in the air it was hard to tell what was the surroundings and what was the door. "I... I think it's clear." he replied and before he could say more, Rowan reached out to the latch and pushed.
The door didn't budge.
She frowned and pushed again, slightly more forcibly and when that didn't work she flung herself forward with her shoulder. There was a crack of magical power and the forester was suddenly flung backwards into the snow some twelve feet away from the door.
"Rowan!" Lahsaa exclaimed, rushing to her side as she picked herself up.
"I'm fine! Don't worry." she replied, dusting herself down more out of habit than with any actual intention to clear the snow from herself. "Guess I got impatient."
[Declare yourselves.]
They both winced as the voice struck their minds harshly, exchanging a glance as they moved back towards the door.
[Declare. Yourselves.] The voice repeated. Whatever it was, was angry.
"Huntsmaster of Ithron, Rowan Tait. Mother Devotee of Crowa." she declared to the door.
"Lahsaa Nethir, Sorcerer, Kindred of Kharach and last of the Einherjar." he intoned, a hard look in his eyes.
There was silence, the wind stopped howling and blowing around them, it was like the entire world paused for close to half a minute before everything started again and the doors opened wide, revealing a long passageway.
[Come. I have been expecting you.]
Rowan and Lahsaa didn't even pause to think and strode confidently inside as the doors slammed shut behind them...
Rowan glanced back at him, her face almost entirely obscured by the heavy cloak and scarf. "Don't worry Lahsaa, I can still tell where is safe to tread and where will pitch ye down the mountain. Watch that stone by your right foot."
Lahsaa's foot froze and he lowered it slowly in front of the rock, testing his intended path with his staff. The stone slipped away almost immediately and flew off the edge.
The mages eye opened wide, staring first at where the rock had vanished and then at Rowan. She winked. "Come on, we're almost there." she motioned twelve feet above them. The spire they had come to find raised above them: Arda's Peak.
Climbing that last twelve feet was possibly the most difficult part of their long climb and it was with no small amount of struggle that the pair pulled themself over the final lip to stand before the massive tower. It was a construction that belied reason. Made of the purest white marble, it stretched up for an extra fifty feet above them. Its construction was quite unlike anything Lahsaa had ever seen before. It seemed to take building styles from everywhere, Dwarvish walls, Elven door frames, overhangs that looked vaguely Rumish and the mage was fairly sure that it would contain more examples inside as well. It seemed to be a mash of culture, style and design but it worked in an odd way. The building melded together seemlessly in a way that made it look grandiose, but also as if it were aware. As if it knew that it was the highest peak on Arda and used that vantage point to look down on the world.
Lahsaa shuddered in a way that he knew not from the cold. It was watching them, he was sure of it. It had taken him a while to realise it but the magic in the air here was so rich it was nearly palpable. It was magic in its purest form, its richest and its most stable. A quick glance around with his mage-sight showed him why - thirteen leylines converged on this tower and it seemed to hold them in a perfect balance.
"Wow..." he breathed, squinting against the snow storm as he tracked his eyes up the building.
"Lahsaa! Come on! Admire the inside rather than the outside!" Rowan shouted, giving him a light shove to get his attention.
With a nod they trudged through the snow that had been untouched for the Gods only knew how many years to the massive set of wooden doors that stood as the portal. The pair knew not to touch it, both using their various skills to check for hidden surprises or traps.
"Looks free of traps and religious energies, but that's no surprise." Rowan said, leaning towards Lahsaa to talk into his ear so as not to shout again.
The sorcerer frowned as he hovered his hand over the door, his eyes wide as his mage sight tried to pick out anything wrong with the door. But he was struggling, the magic was so thick in the air it was hard to tell what was the surroundings and what was the door. "I... I think it's clear." he replied and before he could say more, Rowan reached out to the latch and pushed.
The door didn't budge.
She frowned and pushed again, slightly more forcibly and when that didn't work she flung herself forward with her shoulder. There was a crack of magical power and the forester was suddenly flung backwards into the snow some twelve feet away from the door.
"Rowan!" Lahsaa exclaimed, rushing to her side as she picked herself up.
"I'm fine! Don't worry." she replied, dusting herself down more out of habit than with any actual intention to clear the snow from herself. "Guess I got impatient."
[Declare yourselves.]
They both winced as the voice struck their minds harshly, exchanging a glance as they moved back towards the door.
[Declare. Yourselves.] The voice repeated. Whatever it was, was angry.
"Huntsmaster of Ithron, Rowan Tait. Mother Devotee of Crowa." she declared to the door.
"Lahsaa Nethir, Sorcerer, Kindred of Kharach and last of the Einherjar." he intoned, a hard look in his eyes.
There was silence, the wind stopped howling and blowing around them, it was like the entire world paused for close to half a minute before everything started again and the doors opened wide, revealing a long passageway.
[Come. I have been expecting you.]
Rowan and Lahsaa didn't even pause to think and strode confidently inside as the doors slammed shut behind them...
Sunday, May 27, 2012
When did our time get so short...?
Struggling to write a bit today - my writing seems to have dropped off a lot lately and I'm not sure quite why. It probably doesn't help me finding all of Bleach that can be watched Youtube stylee-online. It is giving me a few good ideas, but not something I can really use anywhere at the moment. Misery has stalled fairly hard, which I'm going to attribute to not writing it for over a week at the beginning of the month. I seem to have been fairly run down since Springfest for some reason and I'm not entirely sure why. I was fairly ill for the few days afterwards but I've been... I dunno - mind blanking a lot for the past couple of weeks. Which has been frustrating especially when I've not been larping for most of this month, except Saturday just gone when I ran at Black Country with mine and Phil's new plot.
I wrote the awesome thing at the begining of the week this week which took a lot out of me, which knocked me down for a couple of days. I just haven't been able to get up and going again with it.
Part of it - I think - is just a bit of a character crisis. I'm getting fairly jaded with my own characters and it's other charcters that I'm really enjoying writing about (quite largely inspired by some AWESOME stuff a fellow writer has been sending me over the last couple of weeks.) However they seem to have a much better grasp of the other characters than I do and no matter how much I hate myself for it, I always seem to have to fight myself really hard to stop myself making it out to be very special fucking snowflake (aka Mary Sue/Marty Stew or whatever you want to call that particular literary abomination.)
Quite often the character themselves would real me in if I try that and Lahsaa is especially very good at stopping me doing stupid stuff that makes him out to be a lot cooler than he ever could be (fantasy sorcerer powers aside.)
I need to push the boat out on my writing a bit, try and write things I'm not used to writing maybe? Scenarios I'm not used to writing? I might put Misery in Middale on hold for a while, at least until I feel I can come back to it. Or maybe, just edit it. Problem is once I've done the 750 words for the day, I really don't feel like doing more writing or doing editing. 750 words feels like a very doable, sustainable about day in and day out, the 3100 words I did for the End of a Saga wrecked me mentally as I said earlier
Though... it is a muscle just like any other... maybe it just needs exercising more. It's gotten used to the 750 words a day and has gotten a bit used to writing that - so I need to start pushing the boat out a bit. See if I can work up to the NaNo-esque heights of 1667 words a day. And then push it further still. I'd love to be able to crack out 2000-2500 words a day with no really effort (but wouldn't every writer?) I know I need to be reading more (I have ASoFaI, and the Mistborn Trilogy to read as well as a bunch of other stuff on my she;f. Reading just hasn't been up there recently.
I wonder if I need to let my streak lapse and start again. I've felt like a bit of a cheat lately on 750 words - using my Patron status and the "Time off" feature a little too much maybe. I don't really want to lose a 76 day streak though. Even if around 10 of those days I've probably time-off'd.
But is that in the spirit of the whole writing thing though?
I envy these people who can juggle plot lines and juggle reading multple books at once. Especially with how SHORT my days are seeming lately. Work, maybe gym, home, eat, catch up on the world for the day, write and then bed. With the list of things I have to do seemingly getting longer (Warhammer army, bits for larp, writing for larp, story writing, reading, bits of art I want to do, projects like the Phyrehawk Reads Twilight I started, catching up on blogs and internet stuff I do, larping, socialising, gaming, tidying up, housework etc.) how does anyone try and fit all of that into their day? Or even their week half the time? I miss being young and having days stretch away endlessly - feeling like there is all the time in the world. That just seems to have gone completely.
Ah well... that's a catch up - I wrote, I unloaded a bit. Time to blog it and finish watching Bleach for the evening before going to bed and starting everything bright and early again tomorrow.
Sigh.
I wrote the awesome thing at the begining of the week this week which took a lot out of me, which knocked me down for a couple of days. I just haven't been able to get up and going again with it.
Part of it - I think - is just a bit of a character crisis. I'm getting fairly jaded with my own characters and it's other charcters that I'm really enjoying writing about (quite largely inspired by some AWESOME stuff a fellow writer has been sending me over the last couple of weeks.) However they seem to have a much better grasp of the other characters than I do and no matter how much I hate myself for it, I always seem to have to fight myself really hard to stop myself making it out to be very special fucking snowflake (aka Mary Sue/Marty Stew or whatever you want to call that particular literary abomination.)
Quite often the character themselves would real me in if I try that and Lahsaa is especially very good at stopping me doing stupid stuff that makes him out to be a lot cooler than he ever could be (fantasy sorcerer powers aside.)
I need to push the boat out on my writing a bit, try and write things I'm not used to writing maybe? Scenarios I'm not used to writing? I might put Misery in Middale on hold for a while, at least until I feel I can come back to it. Or maybe, just edit it. Problem is once I've done the 750 words for the day, I really don't feel like doing more writing or doing editing. 750 words feels like a very doable, sustainable about day in and day out, the 3100 words I did for the End of a Saga wrecked me mentally as I said earlier
Though... it is a muscle just like any other... maybe it just needs exercising more. It's gotten used to the 750 words a day and has gotten a bit used to writing that - so I need to start pushing the boat out a bit. See if I can work up to the NaNo-esque heights of 1667 words a day. And then push it further still. I'd love to be able to crack out 2000-2500 words a day with no really effort (but wouldn't every writer?) I know I need to be reading more (I have ASoFaI, and the Mistborn Trilogy to read as well as a bunch of other stuff on my she;f. Reading just hasn't been up there recently.
I wonder if I need to let my streak lapse and start again. I've felt like a bit of a cheat lately on 750 words - using my Patron status and the "Time off" feature a little too much maybe. I don't really want to lose a 76 day streak though. Even if around 10 of those days I've probably time-off'd.
But is that in the spirit of the whole writing thing though?
I envy these people who can juggle plot lines and juggle reading multple books at once. Especially with how SHORT my days are seeming lately. Work, maybe gym, home, eat, catch up on the world for the day, write and then bed. With the list of things I have to do seemingly getting longer (Warhammer army, bits for larp, writing for larp, story writing, reading, bits of art I want to do, projects like the Phyrehawk Reads Twilight I started, catching up on blogs and internet stuff I do, larping, socialising, gaming, tidying up, housework etc.) how does anyone try and fit all of that into their day? Or even their week half the time? I miss being young and having days stretch away endlessly - feeling like there is all the time in the world. That just seems to have gone completely.
Ah well... that's a catch up - I wrote, I unloaded a bit. Time to blog it and finish watching Bleach for the evening before going to bed and starting everything bright and early again tomorrow.
Sigh.
Monday, May 21, 2012
The greatest of sagas eventually ends...
Axes flash, broadswords swing, Shining armours piercing ring. Horses run with polished shield, fight those bastards till they yield. Mightnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry, how many of them can we make die!
"Jarl! They're out! We're the last ones left." Lahsaa Nethir shouted often the vicious melee despatching a pair of skeletons easily with his quarterstaff, blowing away a third with a blast of magic.
"About time! The smell of this corrupt air is worse than Fith's cooking." Ragnar Morkai snarled, batting aside a pair of animates with his shield as if they were nothing, one collosal mace blow destroying another three.
"Fith's cooking is worse than the witches lab? Really?" his elder brother Hati laughed, decimating yet more undead with his spear, running four or five zombies through with one thrust before tearing it through.
"Hey Fith, perhaps you should take lessons?" Arya Ardaddottir's laugh rang out over the clash and ring of steel on steel and crushing of bone, as she easily swatted away half a dozen feyunds that had charged her from behind as if hoping to take her by surprise.
"Ja, though only if we want something else in the house that can kill us." Saga Bjorndottir's laugh was jovial as she wove gracefully in and out of the undead that still pushed forward into the small fort that they had been calling home for the past month. The undead swung for her, but each swung was too slow and they were sent toppling to the floor before they could register her movement.
Olaf Hargeson's laugh was deep and throaty as he waded through lines of skeletons with two maces drawn sending bone and rotten flesh spinning to each side as he stroke forward. "There's enough in the house that could kill us already! I'd be more scared of the food turning us into frogs, or worse."
"Fith is more likely to turn himself into a frog in the process." Skade's voice was serious, but Lahsaa - closest to her, noted the twinkle in her eye and the corners of her lips upturned.
"Pah! I don't need the witches potion tricky to bring curses down on each of you... But it'll be your crotches that itch and rot, and boils breaking out on your rear!" Fith the Egilsonn hissed, flicking holy water from a vial in his hand. Where it caught the undead that advanced on him their rotten skin hissed and bubbled, breaking the foul magics that bound them and forcing their collapse.
"My boot with be in your mouth before you try your curses on me again." Bjorn grunted humourlessly as he swung a large double handed mace in a large arc - obliterating a massive swathe of undead creatures. "Does this mean we can get out of this shit hole, Jarl?"
"Ja. When we have killed the rest in this fort!" Ragnar shot back, as he destroyed yet more of the risen dead. "I hope you've all been keeping count."
"I didn't realise you could count past ten my Jarl, you have your boots on after all. So we're going to all beat you easily. Even Lahsa'." Arya's called out mischeviously.
"I'm the Jarl, you're all my men, any of your kills are mine."
"You can have my kills over my dead body. And if you kill me, who's going to look after you?" Bjorn shouted from nearly the other side of the compound as he strode back towards the bulk of the group.
"You don't think I can look after myself?" The group was relaxed, after so many years adventuring together, fighting battles and wars across almost the entirity of Arda with forays into Sharda and Elysium as well - they barely had to concentrate on such weak undead such as the ones they were fighting. Even skeletons - which moved with a quickness that seemed impossible for the lack of bone and muscles were despatched without so much as a thought.
The fort stank of death and decay and Lahsaa had pulled his bandana over his face to cover the worst of it and he leant against the pallisade to wipe the sweat from his brow. Although he had been a part of the family for almost eight years now he still had never truly gotten used to how tireless the group seemed they enjoyed a fight. This wasn't fighting for their life, this was almost a game to them. But the sorcerer was still on edge, and cast his eyes out across the wastes of Tholon where they had spent the last three month raiding the countries borders to give them the distraction enough to sneak into the Mountain of Night for the second time in three years and finally put an end to the Liche of Eternal Dusk - the ruler of the blasted land - and its pet Dracoliche.
Although necromantically tainted soulfire permeated everything in soulfire, something was different here. It seemed to be building up on the horizon and the mage did not like it one bit.
Follow orders as you're told, make their yellow blood run cold. Fight until you die or drop a force like ours is hard to stop. Close your mind to stress and pain, fight till you're no longer sane. Let not one damn cur pass by, how many of them can we make die!
"Jarl! I think it's really time to go now!" Lahsaa called as seemingly the last undead fell.
Ragnar looked up at the mage, noting the urgency etched across his face and nodded his agreement. "Ja, we need drink! And decent Llaminusian food! And women in our beds!" A cheer went up around the Llaminusians as Lahsaa's lips twitched into a smile. As they started to gather round the Jarl in the middle of the courtyard one lone skeleton appeared at the gate, shambling towards the group. Olaf, Bjorin, Hati, Arya and Saga glanced first at each other and then rushed for the skeleton all at once. Hati - the tallest and faster as the units scout looked to take the lead until Olaf swung out a mace to trip him. In retaliation, Hati swung the haft of his spear, tripping the bald man as he ran. Arya and Saga outstripped Bjorn and both had raised their weapons to crush the skeleton when it exploded into pieces in front of them. They skidded to a halt, confused, and looking around wildly, Saga noticing Lahsaa with an outstretched hand and a smirk on his face.
"No fair Lahsaa! It was mine!" the devotee wailed, pouting slightly as Arya laughed, pushing the younger woman lightly
"Stop fucking about now." Ragnar called. "We need to head for the gorge, we've done everything we've needed to do we've gotten everyone out, prisoners, the Ithronian army, even some who have seen the evil of Tholon's ways." the was a slightly manic glint in his eye. "Now we go home! Kharach's Black Hand strike again!" he roared, raising his mace.
Some quarter of an hour later, the group neared the Twilight Gorge - one of the few ones to sneak into Tholon as they had which had been just what they had needed for this. It had taken Ragnar and the Einherjar seven years to gather all the evidence they had needed to prove that Tholon was working against the Empire and even then Axir itself had refused to act. So - with the backing of most of the rest of the Empire and with their armies acting as distraction Ragnar - general of all of Ithrons armies - had led the adventurers of Ithron into Tholon and cut off their leadership, stopping many of the evil practices that took place in the hive of evil that was the Mountain of Night.
The gorge was narrow - wide enough only for seven people to stand side by side and it had been the perfect place to push through largely undetected - and cut through cliffs nearly one hundred feet high.
Here they stopped, looking back at the country of Tholon, each with a satisfied look on their face.
"The pits of Tholon will dry up, the wells of debauchary and the abominations they raise will rot and one day, life will return to this accursed land." Fith intoned, casting his hand through the air, runestones between each of his fingers, the symbols on the carved wood glowing faintly. "We have done a wonderous thing in this place my Jarl, the skalds will tell tales of it for hundreds of years to come. And you! Your name will live on throughout history. Jarl Ragnar Morkai of the Einherjar! Best of all the generals of the southland of Ithron! Conquorer of Tholon, the damned land!"
"Conquorer of Tholon, I like that." Ragnar mused, scratching his chin. "You'll have to make sure the tale is told Fith. Tell it far and wide!"
Fith grinned, "What else would a skald do Jarl, if not tell the greatest of stor...." his stopped mid sentence as he looked into the air, up at the rockface. Some twenty foot above them sat a raven, watching the group through impassively black eyes. It seemed to meet the Seers eyes who closed his mouth slowly. "So, he said after a few seconds. "The time has come."
Guard your women and children well, send these bastards back to hell. We'll teach them the ways of war, they won't come here any more. Use your shield and use your head, fight till every one is dead. Raise the flag up to the sky, how many of them can we make die!
"Something's following us!" Lahsaa exclaimed urgently, disappearing from the spot he had been stood and appearing some twenty foot up the rock face, clinging to the stone tightly. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, the word "Gods..." escaping as a breath.
"Lahsa'! What is it?" Arya called up. The mage didn't answer and Hati picked up a rock, hurling it at Lahsaa, making a sharp cracking noise as it struck the wall mere inches from the mages head. In a second, Lahsaa was on the ground again, disappearing and reappearing in front of the Jarl.
"An undead army follows us. I... I don't know how, I don't know who leads them but..." he was breathless and pale, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Jarl, from the size of the necromantic aura - there must be thousands of them. Heading straight for here. There's more there than the group of adventurers on the other side of this valley could ever hope to destroy.
Ragnar scowled. "Fucking Tholon, always more abominations hidden away. There is more undead in Tholon than there is flakes of snow in the homeland."
"How far?" Hati urged Lahsaa, catching the mages green robes. Lahsaa stammered for a moment, shaking his head. "Lahsaa!"
"I... a quarter of an hour at most!" he said desperately. "It's not long enough, not to seal the gorge like we planned! It's ten minutes to the other side at a fast run and then another twenty to make the preparations.
The group fell silent. The joviality of just an hour before lost completely as they each considered their options.
"We need to hold them here." Bjorn's voice was like a death knell, but each of them knew it was true. Further into the gorge it widened out and wasn't nearly as defensible as this end, this was the only place they could hold it.
"But... all the supplies are back at the other end." Lahsaa said slowly, knowing where this was likely to go and determined to talk them all out of it before the idea could really sink in. "We won't be able to bring it down and fight off the undead."
"No Lahsa'. You won't be able to." Arya's voice was small, but unwavering.
Lahsaa looked at the faces of each of the men and women he had come to know and love as family for near enough a decade. "No..."
"Can you think of another way sorcerer?" Skade said impassively. "The undead can't be allowed back into Llaminusia, we're the only ones here to stay and defend it."
Lahsaa's breath quickened as his mind raced, trying to think of another way, a way that meant they wouldn't die in this Gods forsaken land.
"Someone still needs to back and set up the explosives though Ragnar." Hati said slowly. "Or at least send back instructions on how to do it."
Ragnar nodded at his brother and turned tot he mage stood behind him who was still working out how to save them all.
"Lahsaa. I have one last order for you, then you are freed from your duty as my bondsman."
The mage glanced up at the bigger man, the Jarl's name forming weakly on his lips. "Ragnar..."
"You are to go with Skade and Fith back Llaminusia and do what you need to do to collapse this ravine, everything you need we know is there. You will do it as fast as you can. And we will stay and keep the undead away here."
"Ragnar... no... I can't leave you all." Lahsaa said desperately.
"I can tell Lahsaa how to set it up Jarl, I don't need to head back with him." Skade's voice cut across the Ithronian.
"This is my word as Jarl. It cannot be done without you Lahsaa and witch - I'm not sure which I fear more of your mother, grandmother and grandfather but none of them will forgive me if this is where you fall. You must take your mothers place, remember. And there is still the work of the land that you haven't yet complete."
Ragnar turrned on Fith as each of the rest looked on, the enormity of what they now had to do sinking in. "Seer, you go back with them and spread the word of what we do here now..."
The seer shook his head. "I'm sorry my Jarl. But I cannot. I cannot run away from my fate and my fate is here with each of you. I've seen it. It was the first thing I saw when I was a babe and now... It comes to pass."
Ragnar frowned, but nodded wordlessly. "Very well - I think the fates might smile on us if we keep our Seer with us."
The Jarl turned back to the mage and the witch. "You know what you must do. Don't waste time fucking around here. Go!"
"But... Ragnar..." tears streaked down the Ithronians cheeks, desperate to find another way out of this.
"FUCKING GO!" Ragnar roared, raising his mace.
Lahsaa stood his ground, dashing the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He raised a hand and spoke a flurry of words that meant nothing to any of the Llaminusians. Magic flared around the group, weapons began to glow and auras surrounded each of the seven that were about to sacrifice themselves.
"You were not bad for a weak, Ithronian bloodmage." Hati called to him with a sombre smile, raising his spear.
Arya and Saga rushed the mage, both of them hugged in. Fresh tears fell from the Ithronians eyes as it broke far too quickly and both the women joined their place on the line.
"I still don't like you." Bjorn sneered, before his expression softened. "Hati is right though."
"Lahsaa, Skade - sing out sagas through the width and breadth of Arda. Just don't put the words in a book... this tale is better than parchment and ink. Fateweaver be with you."
"Find us in the halls." Olaf called over. "We'll be at the table making the most noise."
"Thank you all." Lahsaa choked out as tears obscured his vision again.
"You can thank us by making sure none of these undead make it through to Llaminusia." Ragnar told him. "Go."
Together, Lahsaa and Skade turned from the group, running as fast as they could through the gourge.
Dawn has broke, the time has come, move your feet to a marching drum. We'll win the war and pay the toll, we'll fight as one in heart and soul. Midnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry, how many of them can we make die.
"Seven of us. The gorge is wide enough to fit Seven. Seven is auspicious." Fith nodded, handing fishing a small jar of blue woad and inscribing sigils on the skin of each of them.
"Each of the Seven will smile of us for this." Saga said.
"Kharach most of us." Ragnar nodded, pulling out a jar of black dye and running it over his right hand. "As we are his Black Hand." he pressed his hand over the left eye of each of his Einherjar in turn, before turning it on his own face. "He sent us to Ithron for a purpose. And that purpose ends here. Even if this is the biggest fucking army that Tholon has raised, we are here to destroy it, Why is that?"
"Because we're the fucking Einherjar!" they all roared back, raising their weapons high.
"Ja! Too fucking right we are. And are we afraid of a bunch of pissy undead? That we were all pissing on when we were still sucking at our mothers teats?"
"No Jarl!"
"We're going to FIGHT! We're going to destroy them all. We're going to let them know what it means to fear the Einherjar! And fear Kharach"
"For Kharach!"
"For Kharach! For the Seven! We are the Einherjar! We are the Black Hand! HAIL TO THE RAVEN!" Ragnar raise the units banner high into the air, and a religious aura glowed around his, bathing them all in a holy light.
"HAIL TO THE RAVEN!" echoed Ragnar's men.
Silence fell as the mists thickened around them, and slowly - out of the gloom the undead started to appear. Row upon row, upon row of skeletons, zombies, animates, feyands and other abominations besides.
The Einherjar wall, indomitable against countless foes across Arda readied itself as Arya began to sing, each of the Einherjar picking up with the words just several words in. "Axes flash, broadswords swing, shining armour's piecing ring. Horses run with a polished shield, fight those bastards till they yield. Midnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry...
The battle joined as the Einherjar roared the last line loud enough for the Gods themselves to hear. "How many of them can we make die!"
((Song credit: Heather Alexander - March Of Cambreadth))
"Jarl! They're out! We're the last ones left." Lahsaa Nethir shouted often the vicious melee despatching a pair of skeletons easily with his quarterstaff, blowing away a third with a blast of magic.
"About time! The smell of this corrupt air is worse than Fith's cooking." Ragnar Morkai snarled, batting aside a pair of animates with his shield as if they were nothing, one collosal mace blow destroying another three.
"Fith's cooking is worse than the witches lab? Really?" his elder brother Hati laughed, decimating yet more undead with his spear, running four or five zombies through with one thrust before tearing it through.
"Hey Fith, perhaps you should take lessons?" Arya Ardaddottir's laugh rang out over the clash and ring of steel on steel and crushing of bone, as she easily swatted away half a dozen feyunds that had charged her from behind as if hoping to take her by surprise.
"Ja, though only if we want something else in the house that can kill us." Saga Bjorndottir's laugh was jovial as she wove gracefully in and out of the undead that still pushed forward into the small fort that they had been calling home for the past month. The undead swung for her, but each swung was too slow and they were sent toppling to the floor before they could register her movement.
Olaf Hargeson's laugh was deep and throaty as he waded through lines of skeletons with two maces drawn sending bone and rotten flesh spinning to each side as he stroke forward. "There's enough in the house that could kill us already! I'd be more scared of the food turning us into frogs, or worse."
"Fith is more likely to turn himself into a frog in the process." Skade's voice was serious, but Lahsaa - closest to her, noted the twinkle in her eye and the corners of her lips upturned.
"Pah! I don't need the witches potion tricky to bring curses down on each of you... But it'll be your crotches that itch and rot, and boils breaking out on your rear!" Fith the Egilsonn hissed, flicking holy water from a vial in his hand. Where it caught the undead that advanced on him their rotten skin hissed and bubbled, breaking the foul magics that bound them and forcing their collapse.
"My boot with be in your mouth before you try your curses on me again." Bjorn grunted humourlessly as he swung a large double handed mace in a large arc - obliterating a massive swathe of undead creatures. "Does this mean we can get out of this shit hole, Jarl?"
"Ja. When we have killed the rest in this fort!" Ragnar shot back, as he destroyed yet more of the risen dead. "I hope you've all been keeping count."
"I didn't realise you could count past ten my Jarl, you have your boots on after all. So we're going to all beat you easily. Even Lahsa'." Arya's called out mischeviously.
"I'm the Jarl, you're all my men, any of your kills are mine."
"You can have my kills over my dead body. And if you kill me, who's going to look after you?" Bjorn shouted from nearly the other side of the compound as he strode back towards the bulk of the group.
"You don't think I can look after myself?" The group was relaxed, after so many years adventuring together, fighting battles and wars across almost the entirity of Arda with forays into Sharda and Elysium as well - they barely had to concentrate on such weak undead such as the ones they were fighting. Even skeletons - which moved with a quickness that seemed impossible for the lack of bone and muscles were despatched without so much as a thought.
The fort stank of death and decay and Lahsaa had pulled his bandana over his face to cover the worst of it and he leant against the pallisade to wipe the sweat from his brow. Although he had been a part of the family for almost eight years now he still had never truly gotten used to how tireless the group seemed they enjoyed a fight. This wasn't fighting for their life, this was almost a game to them. But the sorcerer was still on edge, and cast his eyes out across the wastes of Tholon where they had spent the last three month raiding the countries borders to give them the distraction enough to sneak into the Mountain of Night for the second time in three years and finally put an end to the Liche of Eternal Dusk - the ruler of the blasted land - and its pet Dracoliche.
Although necromantically tainted soulfire permeated everything in soulfire, something was different here. It seemed to be building up on the horizon and the mage did not like it one bit.
Follow orders as you're told, make their yellow blood run cold. Fight until you die or drop a force like ours is hard to stop. Close your mind to stress and pain, fight till you're no longer sane. Let not one damn cur pass by, how many of them can we make die!
"Jarl! I think it's really time to go now!" Lahsaa called as seemingly the last undead fell.
Ragnar looked up at the mage, noting the urgency etched across his face and nodded his agreement. "Ja, we need drink! And decent Llaminusian food! And women in our beds!" A cheer went up around the Llaminusians as Lahsaa's lips twitched into a smile. As they started to gather round the Jarl in the middle of the courtyard one lone skeleton appeared at the gate, shambling towards the group. Olaf, Bjorin, Hati, Arya and Saga glanced first at each other and then rushed for the skeleton all at once. Hati - the tallest and faster as the units scout looked to take the lead until Olaf swung out a mace to trip him. In retaliation, Hati swung the haft of his spear, tripping the bald man as he ran. Arya and Saga outstripped Bjorn and both had raised their weapons to crush the skeleton when it exploded into pieces in front of them. They skidded to a halt, confused, and looking around wildly, Saga noticing Lahsaa with an outstretched hand and a smirk on his face.
"No fair Lahsaa! It was mine!" the devotee wailed, pouting slightly as Arya laughed, pushing the younger woman lightly
"Stop fucking about now." Ragnar called. "We need to head for the gorge, we've done everything we've needed to do we've gotten everyone out, prisoners, the Ithronian army, even some who have seen the evil of Tholon's ways." the was a slightly manic glint in his eye. "Now we go home! Kharach's Black Hand strike again!" he roared, raising his mace.
Some quarter of an hour later, the group neared the Twilight Gorge - one of the few ones to sneak into Tholon as they had which had been just what they had needed for this. It had taken Ragnar and the Einherjar seven years to gather all the evidence they had needed to prove that Tholon was working against the Empire and even then Axir itself had refused to act. So - with the backing of most of the rest of the Empire and with their armies acting as distraction Ragnar - general of all of Ithrons armies - had led the adventurers of Ithron into Tholon and cut off their leadership, stopping many of the evil practices that took place in the hive of evil that was the Mountain of Night.
The gorge was narrow - wide enough only for seven people to stand side by side and it had been the perfect place to push through largely undetected - and cut through cliffs nearly one hundred feet high.
Here they stopped, looking back at the country of Tholon, each with a satisfied look on their face.
"The pits of Tholon will dry up, the wells of debauchary and the abominations they raise will rot and one day, life will return to this accursed land." Fith intoned, casting his hand through the air, runestones between each of his fingers, the symbols on the carved wood glowing faintly. "We have done a wonderous thing in this place my Jarl, the skalds will tell tales of it for hundreds of years to come. And you! Your name will live on throughout history. Jarl Ragnar Morkai of the Einherjar! Best of all the generals of the southland of Ithron! Conquorer of Tholon, the damned land!"
"Conquorer of Tholon, I like that." Ragnar mused, scratching his chin. "You'll have to make sure the tale is told Fith. Tell it far and wide!"
Fith grinned, "What else would a skald do Jarl, if not tell the greatest of stor...." his stopped mid sentence as he looked into the air, up at the rockface. Some twenty foot above them sat a raven, watching the group through impassively black eyes. It seemed to meet the Seers eyes who closed his mouth slowly. "So, he said after a few seconds. "The time has come."
Guard your women and children well, send these bastards back to hell. We'll teach them the ways of war, they won't come here any more. Use your shield and use your head, fight till every one is dead. Raise the flag up to the sky, how many of them can we make die!
"Something's following us!" Lahsaa exclaimed urgently, disappearing from the spot he had been stood and appearing some twenty foot up the rock face, clinging to the stone tightly. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, the word "Gods..." escaping as a breath.
"Lahsa'! What is it?" Arya called up. The mage didn't answer and Hati picked up a rock, hurling it at Lahsaa, making a sharp cracking noise as it struck the wall mere inches from the mages head. In a second, Lahsaa was on the ground again, disappearing and reappearing in front of the Jarl.
"An undead army follows us. I... I don't know how, I don't know who leads them but..." he was breathless and pale, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Jarl, from the size of the necromantic aura - there must be thousands of them. Heading straight for here. There's more there than the group of adventurers on the other side of this valley could ever hope to destroy.
Ragnar scowled. "Fucking Tholon, always more abominations hidden away. There is more undead in Tholon than there is flakes of snow in the homeland."
"How far?" Hati urged Lahsaa, catching the mages green robes. Lahsaa stammered for a moment, shaking his head. "Lahsaa!"
"I... a quarter of an hour at most!" he said desperately. "It's not long enough, not to seal the gorge like we planned! It's ten minutes to the other side at a fast run and then another twenty to make the preparations.
The group fell silent. The joviality of just an hour before lost completely as they each considered their options.
"We need to hold them here." Bjorn's voice was like a death knell, but each of them knew it was true. Further into the gorge it widened out and wasn't nearly as defensible as this end, this was the only place they could hold it.
"But... all the supplies are back at the other end." Lahsaa said slowly, knowing where this was likely to go and determined to talk them all out of it before the idea could really sink in. "We won't be able to bring it down and fight off the undead."
"No Lahsa'. You won't be able to." Arya's voice was small, but unwavering.
Lahsaa looked at the faces of each of the men and women he had come to know and love as family for near enough a decade. "No..."
"Can you think of another way sorcerer?" Skade said impassively. "The undead can't be allowed back into Llaminusia, we're the only ones here to stay and defend it."
Lahsaa's breath quickened as his mind raced, trying to think of another way, a way that meant they wouldn't die in this Gods forsaken land.
"Someone still needs to back and set up the explosives though Ragnar." Hati said slowly. "Or at least send back instructions on how to do it."
Ragnar nodded at his brother and turned tot he mage stood behind him who was still working out how to save them all.
"Lahsaa. I have one last order for you, then you are freed from your duty as my bondsman."
The mage glanced up at the bigger man, the Jarl's name forming weakly on his lips. "Ragnar..."
"You are to go with Skade and Fith back Llaminusia and do what you need to do to collapse this ravine, everything you need we know is there. You will do it as fast as you can. And we will stay and keep the undead away here."
"Ragnar... no... I can't leave you all." Lahsaa said desperately.
"I can tell Lahsaa how to set it up Jarl, I don't need to head back with him." Skade's voice cut across the Ithronian.
"This is my word as Jarl. It cannot be done without you Lahsaa and witch - I'm not sure which I fear more of your mother, grandmother and grandfather but none of them will forgive me if this is where you fall. You must take your mothers place, remember. And there is still the work of the land that you haven't yet complete."
Ragnar turrned on Fith as each of the rest looked on, the enormity of what they now had to do sinking in. "Seer, you go back with them and spread the word of what we do here now..."
The seer shook his head. "I'm sorry my Jarl. But I cannot. I cannot run away from my fate and my fate is here with each of you. I've seen it. It was the first thing I saw when I was a babe and now... It comes to pass."
Ragnar frowned, but nodded wordlessly. "Very well - I think the fates might smile on us if we keep our Seer with us."
The Jarl turned back to the mage and the witch. "You know what you must do. Don't waste time fucking around here. Go!"
"But... Ragnar..." tears streaked down the Ithronians cheeks, desperate to find another way out of this.
"FUCKING GO!" Ragnar roared, raising his mace.
Lahsaa stood his ground, dashing the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He raised a hand and spoke a flurry of words that meant nothing to any of the Llaminusians. Magic flared around the group, weapons began to glow and auras surrounded each of the seven that were about to sacrifice themselves.
"You were not bad for a weak, Ithronian bloodmage." Hati called to him with a sombre smile, raising his spear.
Arya and Saga rushed the mage, both of them hugged in. Fresh tears fell from the Ithronians eyes as it broke far too quickly and both the women joined their place on the line.
"I still don't like you." Bjorn sneered, before his expression softened. "Hati is right though."
"Lahsaa, Skade - sing out sagas through the width and breadth of Arda. Just don't put the words in a book... this tale is better than parchment and ink. Fateweaver be with you."
"Find us in the halls." Olaf called over. "We'll be at the table making the most noise."
"Thank you all." Lahsaa choked out as tears obscured his vision again.
"You can thank us by making sure none of these undead make it through to Llaminusia." Ragnar told him. "Go."
Together, Lahsaa and Skade turned from the group, running as fast as they could through the gourge.
Dawn has broke, the time has come, move your feet to a marching drum. We'll win the war and pay the toll, we'll fight as one in heart and soul. Midnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry, how many of them can we make die.
"Seven of us. The gorge is wide enough to fit Seven. Seven is auspicious." Fith nodded, handing fishing a small jar of blue woad and inscribing sigils on the skin of each of them.
"Each of the Seven will smile of us for this." Saga said.
"Kharach most of us." Ragnar nodded, pulling out a jar of black dye and running it over his right hand. "As we are his Black Hand." he pressed his hand over the left eye of each of his Einherjar in turn, before turning it on his own face. "He sent us to Ithron for a purpose. And that purpose ends here. Even if this is the biggest fucking army that Tholon has raised, we are here to destroy it, Why is that?"
"Because we're the fucking Einherjar!" they all roared back, raising their weapons high.
"Ja! Too fucking right we are. And are we afraid of a bunch of pissy undead? That we were all pissing on when we were still sucking at our mothers teats?"
"No Jarl!"
"We're going to FIGHT! We're going to destroy them all. We're going to let them know what it means to fear the Einherjar! And fear Kharach"
"For Kharach!"
"For Kharach! For the Seven! We are the Einherjar! We are the Black Hand! HAIL TO THE RAVEN!" Ragnar raise the units banner high into the air, and a religious aura glowed around his, bathing them all in a holy light.
"HAIL TO THE RAVEN!" echoed Ragnar's men.
Silence fell as the mists thickened around them, and slowly - out of the gloom the undead started to appear. Row upon row, upon row of skeletons, zombies, animates, feyands and other abominations besides.
The Einherjar wall, indomitable against countless foes across Arda readied itself as Arya began to sing, each of the Einherjar picking up with the words just several words in. "Axes flash, broadswords swing, shining armour's piecing ring. Horses run with a polished shield, fight those bastards till they yield. Midnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry...
The battle joined as the Einherjar roared the last line loud enough for the Gods themselves to hear. "How many of them can we make die!"
((Song credit: Heather Alexander - March Of Cambreadth))
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Misery in Middale - It begins...
Ugh. Just... ugh. I swear tomorrows will be more interesting. Sorry.
---
Lahsaa awoke with a start to tapping at his door and his name being hissed urgently. Pulling on a pair of breeches and a shirt he stumbled over to the door in the gloom of his bedroom and pulled it open as quietly as he could. "Wha...?" he groaned sleepily, before he was pushed back inside the room roughly by Leanna who entered and closed the door behind her. "Leanna? What the...?"
"I'm sorry," she said apologetically with a quick glance around the room to make sure they were alone. "But... Remember I said I needed your help today?"
The young man nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"I need to know if I can still count on you. We need to leave soon if you're still wanting to help."
Lahsaa bit his lip, recalling the tongue lashing he had had from his father the day before about not doing enough work and running off on flights of fancy. On the other hand, he had promised her. He nodded resolutely.
She smiled. "I need you to say it Lahsaa. You're wanting to come with me, voluntarily?"
"I do. It's my choice - however I can help, I want to help." he said.
Leanna smiled, not quite believing how easy this had been to convince him and as well at the sudden warmth from the scroll hidden in her robes. "Thank you." she said, sincerely. "But we need to leave soon... we have things to set up. Can you be downstairs in fifteen minutes."
He glanced out of the window where dawn was just about starting to break. "Of course."
She darted over to him and kissed him softly on the cheek. "You're a wonderful man Lahsaa." she said, before turning and fleeing the room, leaving him to stand in a daze.
A quarter of an hour later he emerged into the small courtyard, dressing and carrying a staff. Their eyes met and Leanna nodded. "We need to be quick. Let's go."
---
Dawn found Gregory unmoved from his seat by what had been the fire. He watched as the sun made its appearance over the horizon in the east and sighed heavily as he stretched the ache and cramp out of his muscles. He began restoking the fire, setting down new wood for the small embers to consume before unpacking some of his rations - a meagre meal for what he needed for the day but unable to face or stomach much more. It was perhaps an hour later before Aylix emerged. The captain was red eyed and had a haunted look on his face and he sat next to the fire wordlessly, pulling out a hip flask and taking a very long drink.
"A bit early to be drinking isn't it Captain?" Gregory said, his voice a croak after being unused for the last six or more hours. Aylix didn't reply, and stared hard into the fire as if he had lost something within the small flames.
The pair sat in silence for a while longer until Eliana and then Grundown appeared, bidding the pair morning greetings before preparing themselves for the coming day. Crow and Addy were the last to emerge - both having an expressions on their face that mixed exaltion and trepidation on their faces as they walked hand in hand to join the group.
The silence grew between them, as they all sat awkwardly around the small fire, unsure of what to say to each other before the days events, the enomrity of it all coming back to weigh on their shoulders harder than it had done for the past few days.
In the distance, the bells in the town hall in Netherthong struck eight.
Aylix stood suddenly, draining his hip flask. "I'll meet you all outside the town, time for me to gather the milita." his voice seemed pained, but was said as if daring them to question him. "Don't be late" the mercenary walked off slowly, his hammer rested on his shoulder.
As if it was a cue, the rest of the group stood, packing away none essential kit into their tents before armouring up and checking weapons and equipment before they met back at the fire.
"Ten bells. If you're not there, we will have to leave without you." Gregory said softly, glancing at each of his friends in turn. "We all know what we have to do, may Crowan grant us the courage to see it through."
"And may Tralda grant us all the fortune we need." Addy said with a nod, clutching at her holy symbol with the hand that wasn't clutching Crow's hand.
"Aye, lets be off then." Grundown grinned as the five parted ways.
Above them, the sun blazed across the clear blue sky, chilled only by a slight autumn breeze - the beauty of the day almost mocking what they were shortly to do.
---
Lahsaa awoke with a start to tapping at his door and his name being hissed urgently. Pulling on a pair of breeches and a shirt he stumbled over to the door in the gloom of his bedroom and pulled it open as quietly as he could. "Wha...?" he groaned sleepily, before he was pushed back inside the room roughly by Leanna who entered and closed the door behind her. "Leanna? What the...?"
"I'm sorry," she said apologetically with a quick glance around the room to make sure they were alone. "But... Remember I said I needed your help today?"
The young man nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"I need to know if I can still count on you. We need to leave soon if you're still wanting to help."
Lahsaa bit his lip, recalling the tongue lashing he had had from his father the day before about not doing enough work and running off on flights of fancy. On the other hand, he had promised her. He nodded resolutely.
She smiled. "I need you to say it Lahsaa. You're wanting to come with me, voluntarily?"
"I do. It's my choice - however I can help, I want to help." he said.
Leanna smiled, not quite believing how easy this had been to convince him and as well at the sudden warmth from the scroll hidden in her robes. "Thank you." she said, sincerely. "But we need to leave soon... we have things to set up. Can you be downstairs in fifteen minutes."
He glanced out of the window where dawn was just about starting to break. "Of course."
She darted over to him and kissed him softly on the cheek. "You're a wonderful man Lahsaa." she said, before turning and fleeing the room, leaving him to stand in a daze.
A quarter of an hour later he emerged into the small courtyard, dressing and carrying a staff. Their eyes met and Leanna nodded. "We need to be quick. Let's go."
---
Dawn found Gregory unmoved from his seat by what had been the fire. He watched as the sun made its appearance over the horizon in the east and sighed heavily as he stretched the ache and cramp out of his muscles. He began restoking the fire, setting down new wood for the small embers to consume before unpacking some of his rations - a meagre meal for what he needed for the day but unable to face or stomach much more. It was perhaps an hour later before Aylix emerged. The captain was red eyed and had a haunted look on his face and he sat next to the fire wordlessly, pulling out a hip flask and taking a very long drink.
"A bit early to be drinking isn't it Captain?" Gregory said, his voice a croak after being unused for the last six or more hours. Aylix didn't reply, and stared hard into the fire as if he had lost something within the small flames.
The pair sat in silence for a while longer until Eliana and then Grundown appeared, bidding the pair morning greetings before preparing themselves for the coming day. Crow and Addy were the last to emerge - both having an expressions on their face that mixed exaltion and trepidation on their faces as they walked hand in hand to join the group.
The silence grew between them, as they all sat awkwardly around the small fire, unsure of what to say to each other before the days events, the enomrity of it all coming back to weigh on their shoulders harder than it had done for the past few days.
In the distance, the bells in the town hall in Netherthong struck eight.
Aylix stood suddenly, draining his hip flask. "I'll meet you all outside the town, time for me to gather the milita." his voice seemed pained, but was said as if daring them to question him. "Don't be late" the mercenary walked off slowly, his hammer rested on his shoulder.
As if it was a cue, the rest of the group stood, packing away none essential kit into their tents before armouring up and checking weapons and equipment before they met back at the fire.
"Ten bells. If you're not there, we will have to leave without you." Gregory said softly, glancing at each of his friends in turn. "We all know what we have to do, may Crowan grant us the courage to see it through."
"And may Tralda grant us all the fortune we need." Addy said with a nod, clutching at her holy symbol with the hand that wasn't clutching Crow's hand.
"Aye, lets be off then." Grundown grinned as the five parted ways.
Above them, the sun blazed across the clear blue sky, chilled only by a slight autumn breeze - the beauty of the day almost mocking what they were shortly to do.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Misery in Middale - The night before the day after...
Not brilliant, but it's been over two weeks since I last wrote Misery, so needed to get back into the characters again. I meant to include Leanna/Lahsaa at the end, but I couldn't think of a scene that didn't hook the two up and that just doesn't happen...
Enjoy. Sorry for how long it's been away.
====
"What do you think he meant by great loss?" Addy said quietly as Crow handed her a beaker of mulled mead. The Kharachian shrugged his shoulders as he sat close to her, his gaze downcast.
"I don't know... Longstorians who live wild like that are said to be able to read things from the stars and other such things - as if Tralda has written the path of everyones fate in hidden places on Arda and only those who know where to look and how to read them can discern what they may. They're probably reading it wrong."
Addy glanced at Crow hopefully. "You think so?"
Crow said nothing, but nodded as he sipped his mead.
"What about you, Aylix? Think they've read it wrong?" Gregory asked the captain quietly on the other side of fireplace.
Aylix took a long slug on the bottle of whiskey he had been nursing, wincing hard as the liquid burned down his throat. "There's not much more I can lose." he muttered, staring into the flames.
"Load of shite if you ask me." Grundown grunted. "On'y one who knows what's gonna 'appen is the Great Bearded Goddess of Fate and Fortune. Why would She write it in the stars for some mutts to read?"
The group fell silent again, with only the crackles and pops of the fire the only noise around them.
Addy stood suddenly, blinking away tears. "Goodnight." she said turning away fromt he group and heading for her tent.
The group watched her go, slightly stunned by the sudden departure of the Traldan. Aylix however, was staring hard at Crow.
"What?" the Kharachian asked, annoyed after a few seconds.
"You're such an idiot. Go after her Crow. This may be your last night together on Arda. She's gonna want to spend it with you. Trust me." the Captain said slowly, as if having to explain something very simple to a child.
The Kharachian frowned at the mercenary, looking at his brother as if for support. Gregory merely nodded, his eyes flicking in the direction that Addy had disappeared in.
Aylix watched him go, mild dispair on his face. "Gods help your families bloodline if you're both that clueless." he shot at Gregory before standing himself, shakily. "Looks like I'm curling up with this bottle and my hammer tonight. See you in the morning."
Grundown snorted and shook his head. "Bloody humans... always thinking with their groins. Gonna turn in myself, one of us needs to carry the rest of you tomorrow at least." the dwarf left to find his own bed.
Gregory breathed a laugh, pulling a whetstone from his pouch and starting to run it over his sword.
"It'll be alright Gregory. We know what we're doing is right and we'll all follow you to the end. I know you feel some responsibility for all of this, but it's not your fault. Keep your faith in Crowa and your belief in your friends. We'll make it through." Eliana said softly, noting the concern etched on the High Fathers face. Gregory's gaze flicked up to the elf as she sat, watching him and he shrugged, nonplussed, looking back to his sword. "I know. I'm not worried." he said, the lie obvious even to him.
"I know you'd never admit it, but that's part of courage, is it not? Admitting when you are scared but not succumbing to that fear." Eliana's voice had moved and when Gregory looked up he found her kneeling in front of him. "Use the concern to temper your resolve. I know you fear what you must do tomorrow." the elf said sadly.
"Eliana I..." he started, his voice cracking as tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
"I know." the Elf said, kissing him softly on the lips. "I know." she stood suddenly and started towards the trees. "Get some rest High Father. Tomorrow brings war."
Gregory watched the Elf leave, tears flowly silently down his face as he turned back to his work.
---
"Addy? Are you okay?" the question sounded stupid even as it reached his lips, as the Kharachian pulled back the flap of the tent she was in. The Traldan answered by grabbing the front of his robes and pulling him inside, kissing him forcefully.
"Crow..." she said breathlessly seconds later as the kiss broke, "Whatever you do, don't talk, don't try and apologise, don't try and promise anything. This is all the reassurance I want right now..."
Crow kissed her back in reply as they fell amongst the blankets laid out in the tent...
Enjoy. Sorry for how long it's been away.
====
"What do you think he meant by great loss?" Addy said quietly as Crow handed her a beaker of mulled mead. The Kharachian shrugged his shoulders as he sat close to her, his gaze downcast.
"I don't know... Longstorians who live wild like that are said to be able to read things from the stars and other such things - as if Tralda has written the path of everyones fate in hidden places on Arda and only those who know where to look and how to read them can discern what they may. They're probably reading it wrong."
Addy glanced at Crow hopefully. "You think so?"
Crow said nothing, but nodded as he sipped his mead.
"What about you, Aylix? Think they've read it wrong?" Gregory asked the captain quietly on the other side of fireplace.
Aylix took a long slug on the bottle of whiskey he had been nursing, wincing hard as the liquid burned down his throat. "There's not much more I can lose." he muttered, staring into the flames.
"Load of shite if you ask me." Grundown grunted. "On'y one who knows what's gonna 'appen is the Great Bearded Goddess of Fate and Fortune. Why would She write it in the stars for some mutts to read?"
The group fell silent again, with only the crackles and pops of the fire the only noise around them.
Addy stood suddenly, blinking away tears. "Goodnight." she said turning away fromt he group and heading for her tent.
The group watched her go, slightly stunned by the sudden departure of the Traldan. Aylix however, was staring hard at Crow.
"What?" the Kharachian asked, annoyed after a few seconds.
"You're such an idiot. Go after her Crow. This may be your last night together on Arda. She's gonna want to spend it with you. Trust me." the Captain said slowly, as if having to explain something very simple to a child.
The Kharachian frowned at the mercenary, looking at his brother as if for support. Gregory merely nodded, his eyes flicking in the direction that Addy had disappeared in.
Aylix watched him go, mild dispair on his face. "Gods help your families bloodline if you're both that clueless." he shot at Gregory before standing himself, shakily. "Looks like I'm curling up with this bottle and my hammer tonight. See you in the morning."
Grundown snorted and shook his head. "Bloody humans... always thinking with their groins. Gonna turn in myself, one of us needs to carry the rest of you tomorrow at least." the dwarf left to find his own bed.
Gregory breathed a laugh, pulling a whetstone from his pouch and starting to run it over his sword.
"It'll be alright Gregory. We know what we're doing is right and we'll all follow you to the end. I know you feel some responsibility for all of this, but it's not your fault. Keep your faith in Crowa and your belief in your friends. We'll make it through." Eliana said softly, noting the concern etched on the High Fathers face. Gregory's gaze flicked up to the elf as she sat, watching him and he shrugged, nonplussed, looking back to his sword. "I know. I'm not worried." he said, the lie obvious even to him.
"I know you'd never admit it, but that's part of courage, is it not? Admitting when you are scared but not succumbing to that fear." Eliana's voice had moved and when Gregory looked up he found her kneeling in front of him. "Use the concern to temper your resolve. I know you fear what you must do tomorrow." the elf said sadly.
"Eliana I..." he started, his voice cracking as tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
"I know." the Elf said, kissing him softly on the lips. "I know." she stood suddenly and started towards the trees. "Get some rest High Father. Tomorrow brings war."
Gregory watched the Elf leave, tears flowly silently down his face as he turned back to his work.
---
"Addy? Are you okay?" the question sounded stupid even as it reached his lips, as the Kharachian pulled back the flap of the tent she was in. The Traldan answered by grabbing the front of his robes and pulling him inside, kissing him forcefully.
"Crow..." she said breathlessly seconds later as the kiss broke, "Whatever you do, don't talk, don't try and apologise, don't try and promise anything. This is all the reassurance I want right now..."
Crow kissed her back in reply as they fell amongst the blankets laid out in the tent...
Friday, May 18, 2012
Battle for Middale part 5 - Sacrifice
The end of this little story arc... Enjoy.
If you've enjoyed it, hated it, have critisms whatever, please comment either here, on twitter or on Facebook. It would be greatly appreciated.
Oh - it's the longest single bit of writing I've done for a long time too. =]
----
"No way! You've got no chance Ragnar. I'm not going to stay here while the rest of you fight on the front line." Rowan shouted angrily at the General. "You can't order me around, my place is on the front line with the rest. Someone else can stay."
Ragnar shook his head, staring impassively at the woman from the borderlands. "It's my fucking army and I am ordering you. And Lahsaa and our witch. You're staying back here to protect this rear camp. I need some good peoplle back here to make sure that those injured stay alive to get back up and fight. I'll make sure that a few of them get through so you don't get completely bored."
"No chance! My place is in the fore of the battle!" she insisted, drawing herself up to the fullest, yet still only reachng the tall Llaminusians chest.
"No. It's here. I'm telling you it's here. Call it payback for Berwickshire, whatever you want, you're staying here." Ragnar scowled, his fists clenching at his side.
"Ragnar, Rowan... this isn't the time to be arguing amongst ourselves..." Lahsaa interjected standing between the pair. "Jarl, is there no way she can join the front line? Surely there must be someone else who can stay back here if you're insisting some of us do?" his voice had a bitter edge to it as if he wasn't happy at staying back anyway.
Ragnar glanced at the three in front of him, Rowan, Skade and Lahsaa. The huntsmaster was seething, her fists balled indignantly at the order; Skade didn't look to happy about it either but seemed to have accepted it quietly - which slightly unnerved the Jarl and Lahsaa - as ever - seemed to be stuck in the middle of different groups of his friends trying to smooth out a peaceful resolution to conflict again. The General sighed, and pulled a hip flask from one of his pouches meeting Lahsaa's eyes briefly before offering it to Rowan. "Fine." he said, an angry edge to his voice.
"Fine what?" Rowan questioned suspiciously taking the flask and drinking from it. Ragnar smirked.
"If you want to be pissed at me I don't care. You stay here and protect the wounded." he said sternly, holding her gaze as he snatched back the hip flask, tucking it away and walking off.
"Yes General!" Rowan replied seemingly without realising, clapping her hands to her mouth. "You bastard! What on Arda have you done?"
"Nothing I wanted to. Potions of compulsion are expensive." he frowned as Lahsaa and Rowan both shouted protestations. "QUIET! I've put you here because I need you here. I'd rather have you up there with me. Now shut up, and do what I tell you!"
Rowan fell silent, though Lahsaa could see the strain in her face as she tried to speak hatred for the Llaminusian burning in her eyes.
The Jarl disappeared into the crowds quickly as the warhorns of the foulspawn sounded and a roar came from the distant end of the battlefield.
"Bastard..." Rowan coughed out, when she was able to speak again, turning in disgust to prepare defences in the healers camp as Lahsaa stared in the direction Ragnar had left.
The battle had scarecely rejoined and already the defenders in the healers camp had work as scouts from the surrounding woods came out dragging several wounded. "Goblins! Right behind us!" they shouted tearing past Lahsaa who had taken the side nearest the trees.
The mage had picked up a short spear and shield at some point, determined not to burn through his magic as he had done yesterday and rushed forward weapons raised to cover their retreat.
"Lahsaa! Get your ass over here!" came a shout from inside the tree line and he rushed forward to assist. Under the cover the the leaves above Elenor stood alone with her bow, unleashing a storm of arrows into the ranks of goblin scouts that rushed through the trees. The mage rushed to her side as she fired off the last pair of arrows and drew her sword. "Tralda... it's about time you showed up. Why aren't you in the battle line?"
Without the hail of arrows raining on them the goblins rushed forward to be met with thrusts from the short spear and the ranger swinging a sword and axe with deadly proficiancy.
"The Jarl had me, the witch and the Huntsmaster stay to help defend the healer camp." the mage grunted, kicking away a goblin who stuck to the spear a little too long, batting another away with the shield. "How's it going out there?"
"It...ugh..." Elenor stumbled as a goblin clubbed her from behind, dropping her to her knees. She reversed her grip on her sword and ran it under her arm into the greenskins chest, hacking it down as she stood for good measure. "It's not going well. They've brought out even bigger orcs - only the Seven know how. They're encased head to foot in black plate armour and they're at least as strong as an ogre. There's only a few of them but they're causing havoc."
Lahsaa ground his teeth together as the goblins - with more than three quarters of them now wormfood - turned tail and fled back towards their own camp. "Ragnar's handling it but - we've a handfull of knights left, at least one Crowan priest has called his final battle... Hati and Bjorn have gone through at least four trollstrengths and sixteen vials of swiftdeath oil each, Kavat's on one leg... One flank is being held by the school of Enchantment after Nysa managed to finally bring out fourteen automata that she'd been hiding away..." Elenor took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's madness out there Lahsaa. Adventurers that retired long ago have joined the fight as well... everyone is using absoutely everything they have and still there seems to be no end to them."
The scouts that had dragged the injured back into the camp came running over, a fresh pair of quivers with them. "Guild protector - here, we restocked for you." one of them said, handing over the arrows to which she nodded her thanks before they took off back into the woods.
"I have to go Lahsaa. Stay safe."
"And you." Lahsaa said, a note of desperation in his voice as he dropped his weapons and hugged his friend of so many years tightly. A brief aura of magic surrounded Elenor and her weapons briefly as the embrace broke. "Tralda be with you."
"Tralda be with all of us. I don't see many other ways that this is going to end well if not for her." she returned before disappearing into the undergrowth again.
Lahsaa glanced at his hands, thumbing each of the rings with his thumbs before collecting his spear and shield and heading back for camp.
"So! You puny humies are puttin' up a decent scrap! Maybe it's time I came out to play!" the voice bellowed impossibly loudly over the defenders, passing over them like a strong wind with a hint of rotten meat to it. It seemed to have a kind of echo to it - as if spoken by two mouths at the same time.
"What in the name of the Seven is that?" Lahsaa exclaimed, unable to see over the melee to find the source of the noise, looking up from bandaging Skade's leg.
"It has the smell of death about it, death and evil power... perhaps their leader has made themselves known at last?" the Llaminusian replied, a forlorn, distant look in her eyes.
"I am Kor'gresh Two Mind! This horde is mine! And my patience 'as worn thin with this little fight oomies! It'ron is mine! You 'ave nothing left to throw at us!"
"Another stinkin' ogre! With two heads so he's twice as ugly! You think you impress us? I am Jarl Ragnar Morkai! General of all of Ithron's armies. We're here to say fuck you to your foulspawn you shit! We'll be fighting to the last!" though the Jarl's voice was impressive enough to be held back in the healer camp, it was like a child screaming at a parent in comparison to Kor'gresh's boom.
The ogre magi laughed, booming over the line and causing some men to stagger. "Quite puny human!" it roared and clicked it's fingers like the crack of a falling tree.
Skade and Lahsaa - both recognising the sudden rush of magic - cried out futilily as if to stop as it Ragnar was nearly flattened by a rapid flurry of spells. His defenses and protections broke in seconds and he dropped to one knee.
"What was that?" Skade demanded incredelously, meeting Lahsaa's eyes.
"That... that was just a mute... but about fifty of them cast in one go... " Lahsaa stammered, his eyes were wide, and he had gone white with shock. "Whatever that is... I'm not sure the entire guild of mages together could stop it..."
"Lahsaa!" Rowan's shout snapped him out of it as she came running over. "Is there anything you can do about this potion? I must join the fight! I must!" her entire body seemed to tremble as she fought against the potions effects, desperate to help with the fight.
The mage opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again quickly. His eyes refused to meet hers and he gave a slight shake of his head. "No..." the reply was almost a whisper.
"... You... you're lying!" she said angrily.
The was another bellow and Lahsaa turned as another wave of power flashed over the left flank. He blanched as bodies flew into the air and screams carried on the wind. Letting out a long and shuddering breath again touching both rings.
"I'm sorry." he said softly, unloading the weapons he was carrying onto the floor and shedding his overrobe to be left in his shirt, trousers and plain green robe.
Kneeling next to Skade he hugged her tight. "Thank you. For everything Skade. Words can't convey just how thankful I am to you."
The Llaminusian met his eyes and understanding flashed between them, as she caught site of the magical artifacts on his hands. She nodded to him as he stood.
He turned to Rowan, who eyes him suspiciously not returning his hug as he embraced her. "Lahsaa, what are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.
"I think I'm about to win our game." he said, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. "Stay safe Rowan." he broke and turned to the battle line.
"Lahsaa! What are you doing? Lahsaa!"
The mage broke into a run, drawing his silver dagger and running it across the palms of both hands so they bled. Ahead, magic built up again.
Kor'gesh bellowed with laughter at the humans before him reeling from his magical assaults. "So... you lead this army of oomies and stunties and elf things?" it demanded, drawing itself up - towering over Ragnar as he stood again.
Unable to speak, the Llaminusian hawked up phlegm and spat at the ogre, raising his axe.
"Haw haw haw... you keep your word... you fight to the end... But... if I kill you, then I kill the guts of your army..." it raised both of its arms, "And afta my boys have eaten what they want, there'll be nothing left to stop us owning everythin'."Dark and powerful magics drew around it - visible even to the untrained as a vortex of black energy swirled like a hurricane around the ogre. "Time to die!" it bellowed, unleashing its spell.
An explosion of energy errupted around Ragnar, throwing bodies to the sides. Cries and shouts rose up, some unintelliganle, some desperate for the safety of the Jarl.
The defenders looked on anxiously as the smoke gradually cleared and were aghast to see Lahsaa standing in front of the Llaminusian, a barrier of green energy surrounding them both.
"What are you doing Lahsaa?" Ragnar demanded, finding himself able to speak as the barrier slowly faded.
"Fighting."
"What's dis?" the ogres twin heads each cocked to the side in a different direction as Lahsaa stepped out of the protective barrier.
"Your end, ogre!" Lahsaa's voice was weak and he barely managed a croak as he fought for his body not to tremble in abject terror at the ten foot monstor before him.
The ogre, and his followers behind him who had all stopped fighting to watch, all roared with laughter at the site of the man in nothing but cloth with a small silver dagger in his hands. "You? You're ending me?" it bellowed with laughter. "There's no way! I'll crush you like a bug!" it flicked out a wrist as a barrage of spells crashed against Lahsaa. He raised his arms in a cross before his face, the pressure of the spells forcing him backwards across the blood soaked grass. Regardless, his defenses held, though he was left breathless by the end of it.
The ogre almost looked impressed.
"So... the little oomie 'as some power?" it conceded, "But I don't think you can do that many times... I can still crush you."
"You think?" Lahsaa gasped, raising his dagger and slashing his other palm so both now bled freely before returning it to the sheet at his back.
"Oi! I'm the one that's sposed t' make you blood oomie! 'ow stupid are you?"
The mage smirked, blinking at the magi through tears. "Not as stupid as you." he raised his hands, forcing the palms of his hands together as they fought with other to touch like similarly charged lodestones. When they finally did touch, the air seemed to stand still for a very long second, before an explosion of magic errupted around Lahsaa. The rings disintergrated entirely as a great rush a power flowed around Lahsaa's entire being. Everybody on the field recoiled in away from it as the soulfire arced around him like lightning.
"Wha... What the...?" the ogre roared, aghast.
"I am Lahsaa Nethir, mage, Kharachian, Einherjar... and your end ogre. Your magic is weak and your army weaker..." dark green fire blazed around his shoulders, his feet seemed to not touch the floor any more as if the soulfire held him just above it. "You have brought death and distruction to this country and it stops here. We stop you, as we have stopped so many before you." his voice was more powerful than the ogres had been and seemed to touch each of the defenders, making them stand taller, dispelling their pain, filling them full of hope and pride and power. "And now we stop you!"
The ogre roared its defiance and unleashed a hail of magic at Lahsaa. The humans eyes blazed and he raised a hand. The spells rebounded and around the ogre his foulspawn army shattered as bodies exploded into fine black mist. Lahsaa gestured hard and unleashed his own magic - the ogre seemed to hang in the air for a second before being thrown backwards at an impossible speed, scattering more of his army. The foulspawn started to panic, and siezing the moment and bolstered by Lahsaa's power Ragnar raised his axe high. "INTO THEM! SEND THEM ALL TO KHARACH! FOR ITHRON!"
The army charged as the ogre picked itself up now behind the entire line of its army. It turned with a roar, looking for Lahsaa, only to find the mage next to him. Another barrage of power, dropped the ogre to his knees, writhing in pain before he was thrown - with a gesture from the mage - into a rock wall which exploded with the force.
The ogre staggered as he stood again snarling at the mage as he with his own gesture dozens of weapons from fallen orcs and trolls rose into the air and streaked towards the sorcerer. Lahsaa's counterspell managed to take out some of the weapons, shattering them into shards of metal and rock but he wasn't quick enough to destroy them all and those that remained struck him again and again. He vanished suddenly from in the middle of the beating he was taking, appearing first at the ogres left then - when the magi commited the weapons to strike where he had been, directly before it. Battered, bruised and bloodied Lahsaa met the eyes of the left head and with a snarl flung his arm up. The ogre couldn't react in time and the head disappeared in an explosion of gore and bone. It shrieked in pain, falling to its knees and clutching at the stump of the neck.
"NO! I CANNOT LOSE! MY HORDE WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED!" it roared in defiance at the man who stood before it.
Lahsaa stared at it, without pity. "You are broken ogre. Your horde is broken. And this is your end."
"Its yours too." it spat. "The magics yoo are usin' is tearin' you apart."
Lahsaa blinked away tears, his jaw set. "I know." he snapped his fingers and the ogres body was torn apart as magic tore through it again and again. It shrieked in agony up until its very last breath and when the magic was finished - all that was left was it's head.
Lahsaa gasped in agony as the magical aura faded rapidly - the power he had called on all but spent. His legs collapsed beneath him and he fell to the ground as each breath burned in his lungs. There was a flutter of wings as a raven landed beside him, watching him through dark eyes.
"Looks like now is my time..." he murmered as his eyes flickered closed...
End.
----
Yes. Seriously. That's it. =D
If you've enjoyed it, hated it, have critisms whatever, please comment either here, on twitter or on Facebook. It would be greatly appreciated.
Oh - it's the longest single bit of writing I've done for a long time too. =]
----
"No way! You've got no chance Ragnar. I'm not going to stay here while the rest of you fight on the front line." Rowan shouted angrily at the General. "You can't order me around, my place is on the front line with the rest. Someone else can stay."
Ragnar shook his head, staring impassively at the woman from the borderlands. "It's my fucking army and I am ordering you. And Lahsaa and our witch. You're staying back here to protect this rear camp. I need some good peoplle back here to make sure that those injured stay alive to get back up and fight. I'll make sure that a few of them get through so you don't get completely bored."
"No chance! My place is in the fore of the battle!" she insisted, drawing herself up to the fullest, yet still only reachng the tall Llaminusians chest.
"No. It's here. I'm telling you it's here. Call it payback for Berwickshire, whatever you want, you're staying here." Ragnar scowled, his fists clenching at his side.
"Ragnar, Rowan... this isn't the time to be arguing amongst ourselves..." Lahsaa interjected standing between the pair. "Jarl, is there no way she can join the front line? Surely there must be someone else who can stay back here if you're insisting some of us do?" his voice had a bitter edge to it as if he wasn't happy at staying back anyway.
Ragnar glanced at the three in front of him, Rowan, Skade and Lahsaa. The huntsmaster was seething, her fists balled indignantly at the order; Skade didn't look to happy about it either but seemed to have accepted it quietly - which slightly unnerved the Jarl and Lahsaa - as ever - seemed to be stuck in the middle of different groups of his friends trying to smooth out a peaceful resolution to conflict again. The General sighed, and pulled a hip flask from one of his pouches meeting Lahsaa's eyes briefly before offering it to Rowan. "Fine." he said, an angry edge to his voice.
"Fine what?" Rowan questioned suspiciously taking the flask and drinking from it. Ragnar smirked.
"If you want to be pissed at me I don't care. You stay here and protect the wounded." he said sternly, holding her gaze as he snatched back the hip flask, tucking it away and walking off.
"Yes General!" Rowan replied seemingly without realising, clapping her hands to her mouth. "You bastard! What on Arda have you done?"
"Nothing I wanted to. Potions of compulsion are expensive." he frowned as Lahsaa and Rowan both shouted protestations. "QUIET! I've put you here because I need you here. I'd rather have you up there with me. Now shut up, and do what I tell you!"
Rowan fell silent, though Lahsaa could see the strain in her face as she tried to speak hatred for the Llaminusian burning in her eyes.
The Jarl disappeared into the crowds quickly as the warhorns of the foulspawn sounded and a roar came from the distant end of the battlefield.
"Bastard..." Rowan coughed out, when she was able to speak again, turning in disgust to prepare defences in the healers camp as Lahsaa stared in the direction Ragnar had left.
The battle had scarecely rejoined and already the defenders in the healers camp had work as scouts from the surrounding woods came out dragging several wounded. "Goblins! Right behind us!" they shouted tearing past Lahsaa who had taken the side nearest the trees.
The mage had picked up a short spear and shield at some point, determined not to burn through his magic as he had done yesterday and rushed forward weapons raised to cover their retreat.
"Lahsaa! Get your ass over here!" came a shout from inside the tree line and he rushed forward to assist. Under the cover the the leaves above Elenor stood alone with her bow, unleashing a storm of arrows into the ranks of goblin scouts that rushed through the trees. The mage rushed to her side as she fired off the last pair of arrows and drew her sword. "Tralda... it's about time you showed up. Why aren't you in the battle line?"
Without the hail of arrows raining on them the goblins rushed forward to be met with thrusts from the short spear and the ranger swinging a sword and axe with deadly proficiancy.
"The Jarl had me, the witch and the Huntsmaster stay to help defend the healer camp." the mage grunted, kicking away a goblin who stuck to the spear a little too long, batting another away with the shield. "How's it going out there?"
"It...ugh..." Elenor stumbled as a goblin clubbed her from behind, dropping her to her knees. She reversed her grip on her sword and ran it under her arm into the greenskins chest, hacking it down as she stood for good measure. "It's not going well. They've brought out even bigger orcs - only the Seven know how. They're encased head to foot in black plate armour and they're at least as strong as an ogre. There's only a few of them but they're causing havoc."
Lahsaa ground his teeth together as the goblins - with more than three quarters of them now wormfood - turned tail and fled back towards their own camp. "Ragnar's handling it but - we've a handfull of knights left, at least one Crowan priest has called his final battle... Hati and Bjorn have gone through at least four trollstrengths and sixteen vials of swiftdeath oil each, Kavat's on one leg... One flank is being held by the school of Enchantment after Nysa managed to finally bring out fourteen automata that she'd been hiding away..." Elenor took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's madness out there Lahsaa. Adventurers that retired long ago have joined the fight as well... everyone is using absoutely everything they have and still there seems to be no end to them."
The scouts that had dragged the injured back into the camp came running over, a fresh pair of quivers with them. "Guild protector - here, we restocked for you." one of them said, handing over the arrows to which she nodded her thanks before they took off back into the woods.
"I have to go Lahsaa. Stay safe."
"And you." Lahsaa said, a note of desperation in his voice as he dropped his weapons and hugged his friend of so many years tightly. A brief aura of magic surrounded Elenor and her weapons briefly as the embrace broke. "Tralda be with you."
"Tralda be with all of us. I don't see many other ways that this is going to end well if not for her." she returned before disappearing into the undergrowth again.
Lahsaa glanced at his hands, thumbing each of the rings with his thumbs before collecting his spear and shield and heading back for camp.
"So! You puny humies are puttin' up a decent scrap! Maybe it's time I came out to play!" the voice bellowed impossibly loudly over the defenders, passing over them like a strong wind with a hint of rotten meat to it. It seemed to have a kind of echo to it - as if spoken by two mouths at the same time.
"What in the name of the Seven is that?" Lahsaa exclaimed, unable to see over the melee to find the source of the noise, looking up from bandaging Skade's leg.
"It has the smell of death about it, death and evil power... perhaps their leader has made themselves known at last?" the Llaminusian replied, a forlorn, distant look in her eyes.
"I am Kor'gresh Two Mind! This horde is mine! And my patience 'as worn thin with this little fight oomies! It'ron is mine! You 'ave nothing left to throw at us!"
"Another stinkin' ogre! With two heads so he's twice as ugly! You think you impress us? I am Jarl Ragnar Morkai! General of all of Ithron's armies. We're here to say fuck you to your foulspawn you shit! We'll be fighting to the last!" though the Jarl's voice was impressive enough to be held back in the healer camp, it was like a child screaming at a parent in comparison to Kor'gresh's boom.
The ogre magi laughed, booming over the line and causing some men to stagger. "Quite puny human!" it roared and clicked it's fingers like the crack of a falling tree.
Skade and Lahsaa - both recognising the sudden rush of magic - cried out futilily as if to stop as it Ragnar was nearly flattened by a rapid flurry of spells. His defenses and protections broke in seconds and he dropped to one knee.
"What was that?" Skade demanded incredelously, meeting Lahsaa's eyes.
"That... that was just a mute... but about fifty of them cast in one go... " Lahsaa stammered, his eyes were wide, and he had gone white with shock. "Whatever that is... I'm not sure the entire guild of mages together could stop it..."
"Lahsaa!" Rowan's shout snapped him out of it as she came running over. "Is there anything you can do about this potion? I must join the fight! I must!" her entire body seemed to tremble as she fought against the potions effects, desperate to help with the fight.
The mage opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again quickly. His eyes refused to meet hers and he gave a slight shake of his head. "No..." the reply was almost a whisper.
"... You... you're lying!" she said angrily.
The was another bellow and Lahsaa turned as another wave of power flashed over the left flank. He blanched as bodies flew into the air and screams carried on the wind. Letting out a long and shuddering breath again touching both rings.
"I'm sorry." he said softly, unloading the weapons he was carrying onto the floor and shedding his overrobe to be left in his shirt, trousers and plain green robe.
Kneeling next to Skade he hugged her tight. "Thank you. For everything Skade. Words can't convey just how thankful I am to you."
The Llaminusian met his eyes and understanding flashed between them, as she caught site of the magical artifacts on his hands. She nodded to him as he stood.
He turned to Rowan, who eyes him suspiciously not returning his hug as he embraced her. "Lahsaa, what are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.
"I think I'm about to win our game." he said, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. "Stay safe Rowan." he broke and turned to the battle line.
"Lahsaa! What are you doing? Lahsaa!"
The mage broke into a run, drawing his silver dagger and running it across the palms of both hands so they bled. Ahead, magic built up again.
Kor'gesh bellowed with laughter at the humans before him reeling from his magical assaults. "So... you lead this army of oomies and stunties and elf things?" it demanded, drawing itself up - towering over Ragnar as he stood again.
Unable to speak, the Llaminusian hawked up phlegm and spat at the ogre, raising his axe.
"Haw haw haw... you keep your word... you fight to the end... But... if I kill you, then I kill the guts of your army..." it raised both of its arms, "And afta my boys have eaten what they want, there'll be nothing left to stop us owning everythin'."Dark and powerful magics drew around it - visible even to the untrained as a vortex of black energy swirled like a hurricane around the ogre. "Time to die!" it bellowed, unleashing its spell.
An explosion of energy errupted around Ragnar, throwing bodies to the sides. Cries and shouts rose up, some unintelliganle, some desperate for the safety of the Jarl.
The defenders looked on anxiously as the smoke gradually cleared and were aghast to see Lahsaa standing in front of the Llaminusian, a barrier of green energy surrounding them both.
"What are you doing Lahsaa?" Ragnar demanded, finding himself able to speak as the barrier slowly faded.
"Fighting."
"What's dis?" the ogres twin heads each cocked to the side in a different direction as Lahsaa stepped out of the protective barrier.
"Your end, ogre!" Lahsaa's voice was weak and he barely managed a croak as he fought for his body not to tremble in abject terror at the ten foot monstor before him.
The ogre, and his followers behind him who had all stopped fighting to watch, all roared with laughter at the site of the man in nothing but cloth with a small silver dagger in his hands. "You? You're ending me?" it bellowed with laughter. "There's no way! I'll crush you like a bug!" it flicked out a wrist as a barrage of spells crashed against Lahsaa. He raised his arms in a cross before his face, the pressure of the spells forcing him backwards across the blood soaked grass. Regardless, his defenses held, though he was left breathless by the end of it.
The ogre almost looked impressed.
"So... the little oomie 'as some power?" it conceded, "But I don't think you can do that many times... I can still crush you."
"You think?" Lahsaa gasped, raising his dagger and slashing his other palm so both now bled freely before returning it to the sheet at his back.
"Oi! I'm the one that's sposed t' make you blood oomie! 'ow stupid are you?"
The mage smirked, blinking at the magi through tears. "Not as stupid as you." he raised his hands, forcing the palms of his hands together as they fought with other to touch like similarly charged lodestones. When they finally did touch, the air seemed to stand still for a very long second, before an explosion of magic errupted around Lahsaa. The rings disintergrated entirely as a great rush a power flowed around Lahsaa's entire being. Everybody on the field recoiled in away from it as the soulfire arced around him like lightning.
"Wha... What the...?" the ogre roared, aghast.
"I am Lahsaa Nethir, mage, Kharachian, Einherjar... and your end ogre. Your magic is weak and your army weaker..." dark green fire blazed around his shoulders, his feet seemed to not touch the floor any more as if the soulfire held him just above it. "You have brought death and distruction to this country and it stops here. We stop you, as we have stopped so many before you." his voice was more powerful than the ogres had been and seemed to touch each of the defenders, making them stand taller, dispelling their pain, filling them full of hope and pride and power. "And now we stop you!"
The ogre roared its defiance and unleashed a hail of magic at Lahsaa. The humans eyes blazed and he raised a hand. The spells rebounded and around the ogre his foulspawn army shattered as bodies exploded into fine black mist. Lahsaa gestured hard and unleashed his own magic - the ogre seemed to hang in the air for a second before being thrown backwards at an impossible speed, scattering more of his army. The foulspawn started to panic, and siezing the moment and bolstered by Lahsaa's power Ragnar raised his axe high. "INTO THEM! SEND THEM ALL TO KHARACH! FOR ITHRON!"
The army charged as the ogre picked itself up now behind the entire line of its army. It turned with a roar, looking for Lahsaa, only to find the mage next to him. Another barrage of power, dropped the ogre to his knees, writhing in pain before he was thrown - with a gesture from the mage - into a rock wall which exploded with the force.
The ogre staggered as he stood again snarling at the mage as he with his own gesture dozens of weapons from fallen orcs and trolls rose into the air and streaked towards the sorcerer. Lahsaa's counterspell managed to take out some of the weapons, shattering them into shards of metal and rock but he wasn't quick enough to destroy them all and those that remained struck him again and again. He vanished suddenly from in the middle of the beating he was taking, appearing first at the ogres left then - when the magi commited the weapons to strike where he had been, directly before it. Battered, bruised and bloodied Lahsaa met the eyes of the left head and with a snarl flung his arm up. The ogre couldn't react in time and the head disappeared in an explosion of gore and bone. It shrieked in pain, falling to its knees and clutching at the stump of the neck.
"NO! I CANNOT LOSE! MY HORDE WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED!" it roared in defiance at the man who stood before it.
Lahsaa stared at it, without pity. "You are broken ogre. Your horde is broken. And this is your end."
"Its yours too." it spat. "The magics yoo are usin' is tearin' you apart."
Lahsaa blinked away tears, his jaw set. "I know." he snapped his fingers and the ogres body was torn apart as magic tore through it again and again. It shrieked in agony up until its very last breath and when the magic was finished - all that was left was it's head.
Lahsaa gasped in agony as the magical aura faded rapidly - the power he had called on all but spent. His legs collapsed beneath him and he fell to the ground as each breath burned in his lungs. There was a flutter of wings as a raven landed beside him, watching him through dark eyes.
"Looks like now is my time..." he murmered as his eyes flickered closed...
End.
----
Yes. Seriously. That's it. =D
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The Battle for Middale - Part 4.
This bit ended up longer than I thought it would... but I actually really enjoyed this. Especially after last nights self rant. Opinions would be welcome.
----
Despite the heavy drumming of the foulspawn army through - they stayed firmly in their camp, leaving the defenders to a long and sleepless night. Some managed fits and starts of sleep and several hours after he had been brought back into camp Lahsaa found himsel jerking awake. It was still at least several hours to dawn and at some point he had fallen asleep on Arya who was now snoring besides him with a empty bottle of what had been mead in her hand.
"Finally the Hare awakes." Ragnar said as quietly as his deep voice and strong Llaminusian accent would allow. "And falling asleep on the Jarl's woman no less, a lesser man would be jealous." Lahsaa rubbed his eyes, too tired and achey to even respond. "Your Jarl doesn't even get a response now?" Ragnar pressed with a laugh, throwing a staling hunk of bread at the mage. A smile finally passed on Lahsaa's lips as he threw the bread back at the Jarl creating an explosion of crumbs as it bounced off the general's head.
"There are those balls we occasionally see!" Ragnar laughed, slapping his hands together. "Though don't let your good friend the Huntsmaster see you throwing things at me. It's almost a weapon. She'll arrest you again. Again... Again."
Lahsaa smirked, reaching for the waterskin that lay nearby and clearing the croak that sat in his throat like leafs and branches clogging a dam. "She's only arrested me twice." he coughed when he was able to speak again, his throat still tight and painful from the night before.
"You'd think bedding her a couple of times would make her less likely to want to see you in irons... Or maybe more likely." Ragnar said, laughing loudly as Lahsaa choked on the water he had been in the process of swallowing.
"We never...! I mean I didn't...! We're just friends Ragnar!" Lahsaa gasped in between coughs.
"I mock you Lahsaa... surely you should be used to it by now. But you'll have to find a woman one day. If there's one thing the Einherjar will do to you, it's make a man of you." Lahsaa chewed the inside of his lip in response, with a grumble. "Every man deserves a good woman Lahsaa, I've seen the way you've looked at more than a couple of women. You love a good many of them, but none enough to bed them when there's probably a couple of them that would be fairly glad to get you between the sheets."
The mage glanced up at the Jarl, who sat watching him with a small thoughtful smirk on his face.
"Of course that's assuming we get ot of this mess alive." Lahsaa pointed out sourly.
Ragnar tutted, glancing over at the direction of the foulspawn camp. "Don't you believe in me Lahsaa? Your Jarl? I've led you through worse shit than this ja? That Vampire Coven in Nurun? The fomor stronghold on the Eternal Ice? Thol... Fucking Tholon! I led you into the Gods damned mountain of Night to beat the shit out of 4 liches and you doubt me when it comes to a handful of orcs that are weaker than a Rolborian's piss after a night of drinking?" he sighed. "What's on your mind? I forever see you in there... maybe that's why you don't have a women, you're too busy with your blood mage thoughts."
Lahsaa smirked at the very old nickname, matching the Jarl's sigh. "I don't know Jarl. I'd follow you to the ends of Arda and have done a couple of times - but this, this just seems a bit different. Something ominous is lurking just out of site, just where we can't see it. And I think it's going to be the death of one of us." he met the Jarl's eyes, who was staring impassively back.
"Sometimes you talk as much shit as Fith does Lahsaa. They're foulspawn. We've killed plenty of foulspawn, as well as demons, undead, otherworldly creatures, Kryganite beasts, heralds and champions of each of the dark six and all kinds of shit in between. This is childs play Lahsaa. Every man and woman that I lead is worth fifty of that green skinned filth. The only good foulspawn I ever knew took down nearly one hundred and fifty of them on his own after he had died. They are nothing, Lichesplitter - "he hefted his axe, battle worn and scarred but still as sharp as ever " - will have several new names after this fight is done. Everyone here will be a fucking hero and the souls of the foulspawn will be sent to Kharach and their bodies will feed new life on this site of battle.
"Don't bring out weakness now Lahsaa, I need you strong, I need you fighting. Because we are Einherjar ja? We're strong and we fight! Ja?!"
"Yeah."
"No, not fucking yeah, Shout it damnit! Show me you fucking mean it. We're strong and we fight, ja!"
"Ya!" Lahsaa choked out as loud as he could.
"Ja... and when this battle is over Lahsaa, you'll be saying 'Oh Ragnar, I was so wrong to be a big fucking wussy... now I'm off to go and find me a woman!'"
Lahsaa coughed out a laugh before finishing the skin full of water. "Thank you Jarl." he smiled, standing and taking the larger mans hand.
"Go get yourself ready for the fight of your life. Dawn's not far off. I'll start to wake up this lot. I need Arya's hangover to wear off before the foulspawn attack."
Lahsaa nodded and started to wander off as Ragnar sat watching after him weaving through the sleeping bodies. With the crack of wings a raven suddenly landed on the Jarl's shoulder as if tamely.
Jarl glanced at the bird, meeting its eye as if communing with it somehow, before they both looked back to the mage. A heavy sigh passed through Ragnar's large, armoured frame as the bird called out.
In the distance, the drums pounded slowly faster...
----
Despite the heavy drumming of the foulspawn army through - they stayed firmly in their camp, leaving the defenders to a long and sleepless night. Some managed fits and starts of sleep and several hours after he had been brought back into camp Lahsaa found himsel jerking awake. It was still at least several hours to dawn and at some point he had fallen asleep on Arya who was now snoring besides him with a empty bottle of what had been mead in her hand.
"Finally the Hare awakes." Ragnar said as quietly as his deep voice and strong Llaminusian accent would allow. "And falling asleep on the Jarl's woman no less, a lesser man would be jealous." Lahsaa rubbed his eyes, too tired and achey to even respond. "Your Jarl doesn't even get a response now?" Ragnar pressed with a laugh, throwing a staling hunk of bread at the mage. A smile finally passed on Lahsaa's lips as he threw the bread back at the Jarl creating an explosion of crumbs as it bounced off the general's head.
"There are those balls we occasionally see!" Ragnar laughed, slapping his hands together. "Though don't let your good friend the Huntsmaster see you throwing things at me. It's almost a weapon. She'll arrest you again. Again... Again."
Lahsaa smirked, reaching for the waterskin that lay nearby and clearing the croak that sat in his throat like leafs and branches clogging a dam. "She's only arrested me twice." he coughed when he was able to speak again, his throat still tight and painful from the night before.
"You'd think bedding her a couple of times would make her less likely to want to see you in irons... Or maybe more likely." Ragnar said, laughing loudly as Lahsaa choked on the water he had been in the process of swallowing.
"We never...! I mean I didn't...! We're just friends Ragnar!" Lahsaa gasped in between coughs.
"I mock you Lahsaa... surely you should be used to it by now. But you'll have to find a woman one day. If there's one thing the Einherjar will do to you, it's make a man of you." Lahsaa chewed the inside of his lip in response, with a grumble. "Every man deserves a good woman Lahsaa, I've seen the way you've looked at more than a couple of women. You love a good many of them, but none enough to bed them when there's probably a couple of them that would be fairly glad to get you between the sheets."
The mage glanced up at the Jarl, who sat watching him with a small thoughtful smirk on his face.
"Of course that's assuming we get ot of this mess alive." Lahsaa pointed out sourly.
Ragnar tutted, glancing over at the direction of the foulspawn camp. "Don't you believe in me Lahsaa? Your Jarl? I've led you through worse shit than this ja? That Vampire Coven in Nurun? The fomor stronghold on the Eternal Ice? Thol... Fucking Tholon! I led you into the Gods damned mountain of Night to beat the shit out of 4 liches and you doubt me when it comes to a handful of orcs that are weaker than a Rolborian's piss after a night of drinking?" he sighed. "What's on your mind? I forever see you in there... maybe that's why you don't have a women, you're too busy with your blood mage thoughts."
Lahsaa smirked at the very old nickname, matching the Jarl's sigh. "I don't know Jarl. I'd follow you to the ends of Arda and have done a couple of times - but this, this just seems a bit different. Something ominous is lurking just out of site, just where we can't see it. And I think it's going to be the death of one of us." he met the Jarl's eyes, who was staring impassively back.
"Sometimes you talk as much shit as Fith does Lahsaa. They're foulspawn. We've killed plenty of foulspawn, as well as demons, undead, otherworldly creatures, Kryganite beasts, heralds and champions of each of the dark six and all kinds of shit in between. This is childs play Lahsaa. Every man and woman that I lead is worth fifty of that green skinned filth. The only good foulspawn I ever knew took down nearly one hundred and fifty of them on his own after he had died. They are nothing, Lichesplitter - "he hefted his axe, battle worn and scarred but still as sharp as ever " - will have several new names after this fight is done. Everyone here will be a fucking hero and the souls of the foulspawn will be sent to Kharach and their bodies will feed new life on this site of battle.
"Don't bring out weakness now Lahsaa, I need you strong, I need you fighting. Because we are Einherjar ja? We're strong and we fight! Ja?!"
"Yeah."
"No, not fucking yeah, Shout it damnit! Show me you fucking mean it. We're strong and we fight, ja!"
"Ya!" Lahsaa choked out as loud as he could.
"Ja... and when this battle is over Lahsaa, you'll be saying 'Oh Ragnar, I was so wrong to be a big fucking wussy... now I'm off to go and find me a woman!'"
Lahsaa coughed out a laugh before finishing the skin full of water. "Thank you Jarl." he smiled, standing and taking the larger mans hand.
"Go get yourself ready for the fight of your life. Dawn's not far off. I'll start to wake up this lot. I need Arya's hangover to wear off before the foulspawn attack."
Lahsaa nodded and started to wander off as Ragnar sat watching after him weaving through the sleeping bodies. With the crack of wings a raven suddenly landed on the Jarl's shoulder as if tamely.
Jarl glanced at the bird, meeting its eye as if communing with it somehow, before they both looked back to the mage. A heavy sigh passed through Ragnar's large, armoured frame as the bird called out.
In the distance, the drums pounded slowly faster...
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