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quack_tape
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Joined on: 20 May 2006
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PostPosted: Mon May 05, 2008 1:00 am    Post subject: Story 4.0 Reply with quote

Alright, here's the story topic!!! yay!!! all the rules are explained in the topic on lesser discussion, and if I think of any others they'll go in the story discussion/encyclopedia topic.

I name my scenes, you don't have to, but when I edit entries for spelling/grammar/whatever, I'll put in a name anyway

and all posts on this topic that aren't scenes will be deleted...even is an admin posts them. yeah, that's right, I'm threatening you guys.

without further ado, I command this story to start!

oh yeah, and double posts are allowed, because I expect this topic to be pretty dead, but that's subject to change

Scene 1: Prologue: Cold Wind
Amadeus shivered as a cold wind rushed past him, threatening to rip his cloak out of his hands. Tightening his grip, he continued to trudge through the snow muttering incoherent curses under his breath. Curse this infernal weather, he thought, no-one would follow us through this. There’s absolutely no reason for me to be here. After two more identical gusts, he gave up on trying to keep his cloak wrapped around him, and let it flap around violently in blizzard winds.
The least the bloody captain could have done was send Darren along with me. He thought, glancing back over his shoulder only to discover, to his dismay, that his tracks had been almost completely covered, leaving only small, vaguely foot-shaped dents in the snow. If I don’t turn around soon, I’ll lose my tracks…great. He mumbled, turning around. If anyone is following us, I haven’t seen them. And at the rate this is going, I won’t.
Amadeus turned around and picked his pace up to a trot, hoping to get away from the wind in the nearby forest. Once he got behind the shelter of the branches, he slowed to a walk and studied the ground, trying to find his trail again. His search was interrupted by the sound of a single branch being broken underfoot. That’s odd…I didn’t see any animals on the way here…
Amadeus’s thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain exploding in his left shoulder. For a moment he blacked out, and when he came to, he was lying in a mound of snow, colored red by his blood. He tried to push himself up, only to grunt in pain, when he discovered that his left arm wouldn’t work.
Before he could figure out what had happened, another gust of wind started up, blowing snow everywhere and completely obscuring his view. As the flurry settled, three figures seemed to melt out of the shadows and falling snow. All three men were bare-chested-despite the blizzard- and covered in red and blue war paint.
“You’re part of the Meadra…” Amadeus growled, trying to push himself into a sitting position with his only good arm.
“We’ve got a smart one here!” remarked the man in the middle. “I’m sorry that my first shot missed, I won’t do you the dishonor of missing a second time.” He began to draw back the string on a wicked-looking, curved bow.
Amadeus let himself drop to the ground just as the arrow flew through where he had been sitting a split second ago. He took one last look at the confused faces of the Meadra, and muttered a few words under his breath. Ancient words. Cryptic words. Beautiful words. Deadly words. The three tribesmen screamed as fire erupted out of their bodies, burning through their skin and muscle, after a few seconds, only a pile of burnt bones were left.
Amadeus stayed on the ground, trying to regain his breath after such a difficult. There hadn’t been enough time to reach his sword. Doing…that…was the only way he could have lived. Maybe it was a good thing Darren wasn’t here, he thought to himself, I don’t know how he and the others would take the news that they were friends with a Reaver.
Amadeus finally forced himself up and clutched his shoulder, with the arrow still sticking out of it. If there were Meadra here, there were probably Meadra near the camp as well. If he didn’t get there in time to warn the rest, something impossibly low standards of quality might happen.
Maybe this scouting trip wasn’t so worthless after all. He thought to himself as he began moving as fast as he could towards camp.
_________________
Million Dollar Horse

"This is rather as if you imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, 'This is an interesting world I find myself in - an interesting hole I find myself in - fits me rather neatly, doesn't it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!'"
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quack_tape
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PostPosted: Mon May 05, 2008 8:51 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Scene 2: Prologue: Bitter Darkness
Darren began to worry as darkness fell on the camp. All the scouts had reported back by now, except for Amadeus, and the Eubrones Forest was not a place you wanted to be after nightfall. Not only because of the nocturnal predators and blistering winds, but also because the Meadra had proven themselves to be especially deadly hunters during the night. Of course, they had come to the Eubrones Forest specifically to avoid those savages, so that shouldn’t be a problem.
Darren grunted as he tried to light his pipe for the ninth time, and failed for ninth time as well. “You shouldn’t let your face scarf down; you’ll get frostbite faster than you’d believe in this wind.”
“Bah, the wind’s too strong to smoke anyway,” Darren grumbled as he covered his face again, turning to see who had spoken. The man also had his face scarf up, making him anonymous.
“You should come back to the fires; we can’t afford to lose anyone due to stupidity.” The man moved forward and followed Darren’s gaze into the darkening forest. “If he’s not back now, he will be soon, don’t worry about it.”
“But it’s not like Amadeus to be late. He usually gives up on his patrols early and comes back before anyone else,” Darren said, sighing. “Something must’ve happened to him. I’m going in there after him. Tell Captain Volcason.”
“I don’t think there’s any need for that. I was actually sent here to tell you to go find him. He might be a bit lazy, but he’s probably our best swordsman.” The man said, looking towards Darren. “I’ll come with you if you want.”
“Wait, if you were supposed to…then why did you…?” Darren shook his head. “Never mind, let’s go.” He picked up his sheathed sword off the ground and began moving towards the now pitch black forest. He looked over his shoulder, “are you coming or not?”
“Right behind you!”
That man was lucky it was impossible to tell voices apart in this howling wind. Darren was beginning to get annoyed with him.
The night made it almost impossible to navigate the forest. Darren and his companion stumbled over dozens of rocks and tree roots, finding and losing the path several times before Darren tripped over something odd. Shaking the mud and snow out of his hair, Darren waited for the wind to die down. During a brief calm, he lit one of his last matches and cupped it in his hand.
The light revealed the broken body of Amadeus. A broken arrow jutted out of his shoulder, and two more stuck out of his back. His cloak and armor were rent with half a dozen slashes from what appeared to be an ax.
“Is he…dead?” Asked the other man, moving closer to Darren.
“No, he’s breathing…but what the hell happened to him?”
A small sputtering gasp came from Amadeus, barely audible, even without the wind. “…Meadra…”
“What?! Here?” Darren quickly scanned the nearby area, but the dim light of his match only let him just beyond the nearest trees. “I thought they were hundreds of miles away!”
“Hopefully, that’s what the rest of the camp will believe.” Darren’s eyes grew large as he heard the rasp of metal on leather, and saw the scarved-man’s sword leave its sheath. “I’ll be qui-“
The end of his statement was cut off by another freezing gust. The fire on Darren’s match died suddenly, plunging the entire area into darkness.
_________________
Million Dollar Horse

"This is rather as if you imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, 'This is an interesting world I find myself in - an interesting hole I find myself in - fits me rather neatly, doesn't it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!'"
-Douglas Adams
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Aulos
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PostPosted: Fri May 09, 2008 10:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Scene 3: Prologue: Blindness
Darren's eyes feebly searched the darkness to find another match inside his pack, but he could find none.
"Looks like you wasted too many stubbornly trying to light your pipe..." said Darren's companion.
"Quiet." Darren growled, as he tried to remain hidden as best he could from any Meadra that still could be hiding around their area.
Unexpectedly, the man stayed quiet for several moments while Darren worked hurriedly to remove the arrow from Amadeaus' shoulder and the ones from his back as well. Thankfully they came out cleanly, not without inflicting pain to Amadeaus in the process, however. Still, Darren grew nervous and glanced around to check on his cohort. He found that fresh blood trickled from an arrow that had killed him, having ripped straight through the scarf and skin on either side of his neck. Instantly realizing the danger, Darren dropped to the ground and rolled to the left, as a missile shot through the air, passing the exact spot where his chest had been. To his advantage, the arrow's trajectory allowed him locate the exact spot from where the sniper had shot from, which he charges towards immediately. His sword drawn in his left hand, and bolts already loaded in the light crossbow in his left hand, he fired them towards the Meadran scum, missing him, but nevertheless, preventing him from firing another arrow. Sprinting at full speed, they were soon locked in close combat.
However, Darren had made a mistake the moment he decided to attack. Meadra almost never worked alone, and soon he was overpowered as others came from nearby to reinforce the one who he had attacked. His sword was swept out of his reach, and he found himself in desperate grapple with the assailant, while his companions threw punches at him and unleashed kicks upon him. He was already fading away from the lack of air getting to him, but he saw a bright glowing fire ball coming towards him that blinded him. In his last moments of conciseness, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him as he saw what he thought was Amadeaus standing up....
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quack_tape
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PostPosted: Sat May 10, 2008 2:23 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Scene 4: Prologue: Blood Lust
Amadeus struggled through the forest with Darren on his back. He was very lucky that Darren had come when he did. That third Meadra patrol might have done worse damage to him than the second…He remembered the fight vividly, despite the memory loss that normally came with speaking the Morini Hius. He remembered the lazing inferno, the dying screams of the tortured Meadra, but more than anything else, the deafening sound of the wind after their deaths, and the uncontrollable rage that came with it. Why did he need to stop speaking? Why did he need to stop killing? Who were these infidels to die before he was finished? He had wanted to keep the fire burning, to scour the entire forest of the savages and the Blackcloaks alike.
“Why didn’t I?” He spoke aloud to the night, “I know I can do it. I know I’m strong enough!” There was no answer to that question; he had never had an answer to those types of questions.
When sanity had come back to him, he found his thought hoarse from mad screams and hideous laughter. Almost too hoarse to speak the words that mended his flash and poured blood back into his veins. It was a shame he didn’t know how to heal others, it would’ve have been nice not to have to carry Darren around what must have been hours.
As he reached the clearing where the Blackcloaks had set up their camp, his mind shifted to slightly more pleasant thoughts, if not by much. How much of the fight had Darren seen? If he had been seen using Morini Hius, his life was essentially over. For a dark second, he contemplated simply killing the man; surely no mere soldier’s life was more important than a Reaver’s! No. That was not an option…
When Amadeus cleared the last line of trees, the scene that greeted him was one of nightmares—or perhaps pleasant dreams in his case. The entire camp was in flames, and sounds of battle were finally audible over the wind. Blackcloaks and Meadra fought each other in duels and skirmishes, creating such chaos that it was impossible to tell who was winning.
Amadeus gently put Darren to the ground, and out stretched his arms towards the furious melee. This needs to end. He thought glumly. No! The madness and corruption that would come with such power…It would be horrendous. His arms slowly lowered, until they lowered on both his swords. There were more subtle ways to end this, ways that wouldn’t alert every Reaver and Hunter in a hundred miles to his presence. A small, quivering smile grew on his lips. He spoke the two words every soldier in camp had assumed was his battle cry. “Cruento Amado!” Blood Lust. He stepped into the battle, faster than any mortal man could ever run, and lost himself to the thrill of battle.
_________________
Million Dollar Horse

"This is rather as if you imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, 'This is an interesting world I find myself in - an interesting hole I find myself in - fits me rather neatly, doesn't it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!'"
-Douglas Adams
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quack_tape
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PostPosted: Sat May 10, 2008 7:42 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Scene 5: Prologue: Whispers
Captain Eric Volcason was fighting for his life in a sea of blood, pain, and death. Even after all these years, fighting was never easy. It was hard to remember fencing drills, no matter how many hundreds of times he had done them. It was hard to remain calm, and focus on the battle as a whole, and not just the enemy in front of him. But it was so easy to lose himself in the fight, to hack and slash mindlessly in a desperate attempt to survive. Men who caved into that impulse died. They died fast.
He had managed to rally about two dozen Blackcloaks in the center of the camp, and they had managed to stay—for the most part—alive despite the chaos around them. This time, however, it looked like the chaos would take them. A group of gold-painted Meadra had charged them, the line broke into one another, and suddenly every man was fighting for himself.
Eric was fighting one of the largest men he had ever seen, easily reaching seven feet. His skin was pierced with rings and jewels, running up and down his arms, and across his chest. Two small chains studded with wickedly sharp prongs hung from his wrists, increasing his already enormous reach. But the most intimidating feature of this giant was the giant, two handed sword that he fought with so naturally, that it seemed a part of his body.
Eric guessed that this duel would look humorous to an observer. A small, gray-haired man fighting such a behemoth. The Meadra thought it was funny, too, he laughed in a deep, booming chuckle for the entire duel. I’m getting too old for this… Eric sighed as the man’s body crashed to the ground, bleeding profusely. After wiping the man’s blood off his rapier, he tried to find the remnants of his company. Of his original twenty men, maybe five remained, and those who were still alive were fighting for their lives. He couldn’t tell anything about the state of the battle beyond thirty feet, the smoke and darkness made it impossible to see. They could be the only Blackcloaks still alive, or the Meadra could be routing, there was no way to tell.
At that moment, another mod of Meadra seemed to dissolve out of the darkness. Too many for him to handle. I guess now’s as good a time as any to die He thought mournfully, turning to face the incoming enemy.
It was then that Amadeus entered the fray. Eric stood agape, ignoring the battle around him as he watched. The man moved so gracefully that it seemed he was made of liquid, a block flowing into an upward slash, a parry flowing into a disarming move, an attack on one man flowing into an attack on the next. His movements were so fast that it was almost difficult to see his blades move at all. It seemed to him as if Amadeus stood still, and the Meadra simply fell around him.
But there was something wrong with Amadeus, he seemed…eager. Eric watched in horror as he saw Amadeus behead a man, and manage to hack his arms off before the corpse hit the ground. Other Meadra died gruesome and painful deaths until they were simply gone, the entire group was wiped out. And suddenly Amadeus was gone, he must have moved on to more enemies.
I can’t afford stand around like that! Eric groaned to himself, that’s the sort of thing that gets people killed. Eric turned back to the fight, and tried to forget what he had just seen
--------------------
As Amadeus moved through the battle, it seemed to him as if he was dancing to a tune, a tune that neither he nor anyone else could hear, but a tune nevertheless. Enemies died to the tune, and his feet moved in time to the beat. He was aware that he was laughing, the fight made him feel alive. Wrapped in the power of the Morini Hius, that feeling was all he could have ever wished for.
Slowly he became aware of what seemed to be a whisper in his ear. Was one of the Meadra a Reaver? A smile crept up over his face; these rank-and-file soldiers were beginning to become boring. As he sought out the whispers—somehow audible over the clamor of battle—he wondered how strong this Reaver would be. Of the five he had fought in his life, none had been nearly as strong as him self. I hope this one’s at least a challenge…He mused, before the rythem of the battle siezed him again.
_________________
Million Dollar Horse

"This is rather as if you imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, 'This is an interesting world I find myself in - an interesting hole I find myself in - fits me rather neatly, doesn't it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!'"
-Douglas Adams
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Aulos
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PostPosted: Mon May 12, 2008 3:04 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Scene 6: Prolouge: Clash
Captain Volcason in the meanwhile, was putting up his desperate last stand. Although Amadeaus had blazed through the groups of attacking Meadra, and his deft display combat impressive even to his own standards, Captain Volcason knew it had only brought a temporary lull in the fighting for themselves. The Meadra he had already observed were surging in numbers. How have this many of them been to track us all the way out here to the Eurbones Forest? he began to ask himself.
But he knew that the question was irrevalent, and that any thought at all that might detract from the keen battle focus he had been disciplined into having, over years spent in the army, were irrelavent.
He looked around in his general area, and saw that miraculously, as the men readied themselves for the next wave, one who had presumed dead was simply wounded and lost in sea of twisted bodies when had been hit by an oversized war-hammer. His armor had saved him, but it had a huge dent where the weapon had made contact. Should the blow have struck through, he could easily imagine every bone in his body would be shattered.
Well great now, he thought, there's seven of us. He saw a fresh recruit, whose countenance was grim like those whose own mortality would soon be proven to them, raise a tattered black standard with a gold tree. The emblem of the Blackcloaks. He scoffed at how silly it all seemed; even when death was upon them, the standard bearer boy, who somehow had survived, decided there was enough meaning to remember to raise the standards.
He knew how this would this would end he thought, as they formed a tight circle atop the small hill, stand shoulder-to-shoulder, interlocking their small buckler shields, and pointing their swords to their enemies, forming a jagged perimeter of blades.
As a horde of Meadra descended upon the clearing where the Blackcloaks had set camp just a few hours earlier this night, Amadeaus was there to meet them. The battlelust had grown an even stronger grip on him now, as he didn't even pay attention to the pathetic "warriors" that swarmed around him. The whispers drew him on in his pursuit, like a vulture to a fresh carcass, and he simply swatted out of his path those who stood before him and this challenger- two Meadra yelped simantaneously as his long sword peirced the abdomen one to reach the other's. Somehow, he had been able to transform the act of slaining a hudred and more men into something... graceful.
There was no doubt now as the whispers intensified, that the other Reaver was somewhere amond the nearby Meadra. Now entering the edge of dark forest from which the Meadra were pouring out from, his eyes, powered by the magic of the Morini Hius spotted him. He rode on horseback, on a black steed whose coat blended with the night. Aside from that, Amadeaus could still see that this was still no ordinary Meadra, if he was at all. His form was too slender and elegant and his well proctective armor of sinisterly curved plates was unlike anything he had seen a Meadra wear. It was satisfying to know his appearance, but Amadeaus was most interested in how well he fought, and seeing how much he'd enjoy wiping his blood from his own blades.
Without a second thought, he took no time at all as he leaped from the ground, propeling himself like a shell shot from a cannon, more than 20 feet into the air, his wild black hair fluttering in the open sky as his head for a moment crested above the tops of the trees around him, before he came back down to earth crashing into the ground in front of the aproaching horse, shaking the ground around him. In a quick and skilled manuever he brought his blades in front of him to sever the legs off of the reaver's charging mount. The poor animal lay dying on its side as without either of it's right legs, it had no way to even raise itself.
Good; were alone now, Amadeaus thought, his mind racing, dominated by primal instincts in the heat of battle. Seeing the Reaver's small posse of Meadran brutes still standing, he wasn't precisely correct. But he took care of that problem soon enough as he sent generated a powerful radial force wave of psionic energy and that instantly killed the brutes as if a bomb had just exploded next to them, shouting angrily, "Stay out of this!" He then turned to face his real opponent, but saw he had already sprinted away to a distance far from him. He seemed to laugh in deifiance of Amadeaus' insatiable need for battle.
Provoked, Amadeaus began to charge full speed at the one who denied him battle, but was stopped short by the other Reaver's own display of power. He had stepped onto the very edge of sorcerous circle which hadn't been there the second before but now was. The bodies of fallen Meadra all around him within the circle began to rise again; in particular the brutes he had just slain, and a trio of overgrown Meadra giants, like the one he had seen Captain Eric Volcason struggle with before defeating. One swung his boulder like fist down at him, but was too slow as Amadeaus rolled out of the way and flipped into the air, lopping off his hand at his thick wrist.
He then pounced onto his chest, with a kick that sent the giant flying backwards. Amadeaus' patience was at its end when the remaining undead Meadra attacked him. To finsh them quickly, he sent the body of the of the one he had just wounded flying back in the opposite direction, towards them, knocking them over like a stray ball of child would knock over a carefully put together arrangement of bottles when thrown. To finish the job, Amadeaus rapidly chanted the words to a spell that in moments, completely incinerated the bodies, leaving only a handful of ashes in their place. When he turned around to see the Reaver casting another spell to raise the fallen Meadra again, Amadeaus yelled "I've had enough of playing with your toys!" and charged in headlong.
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quack_tape
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PostPosted: Mon May 12, 2008 8:46 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Scene 6: Prologue: Last Stand

“Captain Volcason…you should run.” One of the soldiers next to Eric murmured. “You’re fast enough to outrun anyone who tries to chase you, and I think I saw an opening in their lines off to the west,” he finished, nodding his head towards the supposed opening, obscured by the ash.
“I’m not going to abandon you.” Eric responded. He couldn’t afford to distract himself with conversation. “Besides, why run from death only to meet it later? There’s nowhere to run.”
“Yes there is. I think I saw Lieutenant Niles running off into the far woods near the beginning of the battle. Niles is no coward, he wasn’t fleeing. There must be someone there with him. Don’t worry about us. Don’t thank us, there isn’t time. Go! They need you more than us!” Eric needed no more encouragement; a second later he was gone
Eric tore across the ash-covered plain. Within seconds, the hill, his men, and a good portion of the Meadra were gone. Eric kept running. The Meadra remembered another man, running almost as fast with just as much determination. Amadeus. Most shrank back in fear, those who didn’t might not have died as fast, but they died none the lest. For a brief moment, another wind blew past him, sweeping enough of the airborne ash away to give him a view of the hill. A sea of men had converged at the top hill, but at the very center of it was the ragged Blackcloak standard whipping violently in the wind, held aloft by a bloodied hand, its owner obscured by fighting men in front of him. The ash resettled, and Eric continued running. Nothing could be allowed to distract him. He needed to survive; it was not a desire, just a simple fact.
--------------------
Amadeus let out a laugh as the Reaver fell to the ground, panting heavily. “Is that all you have?” He screamed at the man, “I’ve slaughtered scores of your kinsmen, and all you can do is collapse, breathing like a dog? You sicken me!” He began slowly advancing.
“You…you may be stronger…but there are…stronger words than the ones you are using…” The Meadra managed to sputter out as he pushed himself to his feet with the remnants of his sword. “I didn’t…want to use them and…become a monster…like you…but I guess I have no choice…” He sounded relieved to finish, as if speaking were a great strain on him.
“Talk is cheap.” Amadeus moved behind the man, he doubted if the worm’s eyes could even follow him. But the man was suddenly gone. Amadeus hadn’t seen his mouth move, but it must have. “Very well, You’re skilled at running away. But you must realize that it is only a matter of time, you can’t keep using the Morini Hius for long, the strain on your body will be too great.”
“Then I better end this fast,” came the man’s voice from behind him. Amadeus spun around, and his eyes grew wide. The Reaver stood there, his broken armor repaired, and in his hand was his sword. “…How? You never said anything.”
“Talk is cheap.” The Reaver smiled. And then he was upon him. Their blades crashed together, and it took all of Amadeus’s strength to hold his ground, but the Reaver appeared to have no such problems. He was holding his sword in one hand. He moved his face closer and in a calm voice, spoke. “Strength means nothing, little one. You’re about to learn that the hard way.” The man’s second hand whipped out from behind his back and paused for a moment in front of Amadeus’s face.
“Lux.” A thick beam of light sprung form his hand. But Amadeus was already airborne, twenty feet above his opponent. Damn. He thought looking at the trail of destruction the light had left, I can’t let him hit me with that. He began slashing wildly in the air, and in the middle of each stroke, flames explodes from the tips of his swords and, as if continuing the stroke, smashed into the ground where the Reaver had stood. The moment his feet touched the ground, he caught sight of the man, fleeing from the fire, and sprang towards him.
The Reaver was caught off guard, and Amadeus managed to grab him by his cloak. Before the man could respond, he threw him into the air with all of his strength, and then jumped after him. They both reached the top of their arcs at about the same time, and struck out at each other with their swords. The Reaver was faster, and Amadeus crashed back to the ground, while the man nimbly landed.
“I hope you realize that it’s all over.” The man said, walking over to Amadeus slowly. Amadeus struggled to stand, but the man stabbed him in the stomach. “Goodbye.”
“You fool…you’re weak and stupid” A feral smile grew across his face, and he suddenly grabbed the reaver’s hand, locking it to the sword, slowly pulling the blade even further into himself. The pain nearly made him black out, but the bloodlust was reaching a climax. Before the Reaver realized what he was doing, Amadeus grabbed the man’s through, and screamed in pain from his wound and joy from the kill as his head and shoulders exploded in flames. He simply pulled the sword out. Now, how long would it take before these fools realized that their leader was dead? And how many could he kill before they did? He smiled at the thought.

End of Prologue
_________________
Million Dollar Horse

"This is rather as if you imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, 'This is an interesting world I find myself in - an interesting hole I find myself in - fits me rather neatly, doesn't it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!'"
-Douglas Adams
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Aulos
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PostPosted: Tue May 13, 2008 8:06 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Scene 1: Chapter 1: The Dutiful Servant
Razial leaned against the thick trunk of a young Dalk tree almost in a sitting position, but not quite on the ground, and wiped the beads of salty sweat from his brow, generated by the oppressive heat. Although this first day of hiking on the winding mountain pass Razial had set out well before dawn, this marked his moment of respite. Currently mid-day, it seemed a fine time to lie down and rest for a while, for today the sun’s intense rays would sap the strength of the strongest man and the will of any reasonable one to continue further. However, he could not afford this luxury, and Razial, inquisitor of Nya’hzam, was not a reasonable man. He was fulfilling his sacred duties to his great god by purging his earth of the scourge of evil ones who used the unholy power of the Morini Hius. He’d never yet gone to such lengths in the pursuit of a single Reaver, but from the observations of the sprawling wasteland that stretched out below the mountain side, which use to be the Eurbones Forest, he was confident already that his efforts had been well spent. Weeks before, a freak blizzard battered the forest before it was suddenly and mysteriously destroyed. The suspicions that everyone had about the nature of the events was only confirmed by what he say: As far as the eye could see, charred remains of trees, mounds of skeletons (a recent feast it must have been for the scavengers), and the stench of unholy magic, almost suffocating to Razial, which the Gift of Nya’hzam enabled him to detect. These phenomena could have easily been the result of the actions of only one Reaver, if he was as powerful as the on Razial was hunting, but it was more likely a confrontation between two Reavers that the company Blackcloaks and Meadra found themselves in the crossfire of. He felt no compulsion to mourn for the dead soldiers, for he fervently believed that their loyalty to Nya’hzam would be judged and their fate in the afterlife would be what they have earned. In any case, he knew their lives would have been well worth it if it meant that in the end another Reaver was gone from the land. At that point, Razial grabbed his crystal tipped silver staff again and with restored vigor, not sure where his search would lead him, but absolutely certain that Nya’hzam would guide him on the path of righteousness if he sought it, set out again.

[Not a wall of text, but hopefully not too short.]
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quack_tape
Deity


Joined on: 20 May 2006
Posts: 10512

PostPosted: Thu May 15, 2008 9:21 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Scene 2: Chapter 1: Seals
Razial grunted as he hobbled up the slope leaning heavily on his staff. Not a day went by when he didn’t regret his broken leg. He didn’t regret it for the pain (No, he was willing to make much larger sacrifices) but instead, he regretted it for the loss of such a valuable servant to his god. Twelve years ago, when he had only been a Blackcloak Captain, his swordsmanship alone had been enough to make him a Nya’hzam Inquisitor—a “Hunter” to the rank and file—and had almost been enough to make him the Master of the Sword, until that one day…he didn’t want to think about it, it made him sick.
While he was been trying to reconstruct his life, Razial had discovered his skill at creating Treveri Seals. He would spend hours laying in bed next to his writing table, scribbling arcane symbols into sheets of parchment. Out of respect for his skill with seals, and ability to bounce back from a tragedy that would have caused most men to end their lives, he had been granted the beautiful parchment coat he was wearing now. With every rustle it made, he was reminded of Adwerd’s words to him shortly after leaving the capitol. <i>“If you kill this one, the one who’s…power…made the universe its self scream in agony, there is no way that you will denied the title of Master of the Seal when our god finds the time to judge me.”</i>
In the course of his musings, Razial had arrived at his destination. The camp was surrounded by natural cover and augmented by tree trunks sharpened into stakes. A man with long back hair in a makeshift captain’s uniform. He bowed deeply, too deeply for someone of his position, stood up and proceeded to address Razial. “I assume you’re after our Reaver friend? We’ve been waiting some time now. Come, we have him…restrained a safe distance from camp, follow me.” Interesting. It seemed that this man had done the hardest part of his job for him. Razial followed the man, observing him intently.
------------------
Amadeus’s mind was racing as the Hunter paced besides, with that damned paper coat swishing with every step. He hadn’t prepared for something like this, he had known that a Hunter would come for him, but he had been counting on being able to kill the man before he could reach any of his scrolls. Without the element of surprise, he wasn’t sure how well he could hold his own. The Hunter interrupted his thoughts.
“I see that you are a newly appointed captain.” How the hell did he know that? “Is it safe for me to assume that the former captain of this company is being judged right now?”
“Oh, no. Eric is still alive, but he promoted me due to ‘skill and valor shown in times of war.’” What was he going to do? There was no way he could kill this man, every aspect of him seemed to personify power, despite his limp.
“May I ask what you did?”
Without thinking, Amadeus told him the alibi that had seemed to work for Volcason and Niles. “I surprised a Reaver in the Meadra army, killed his army, and took his head. I showed it to the Meadra, and they were so frightened that they fled <i>en masse</i>”
“Interesting.” The Hunter was looking right at him, it was—to say the least—unsettling. “I know Hunters who have done less. I could put in a good word for you at the capitol.” Amadeus didn’t like where this conversation was heading.
About that time, they started walking by a cliff that overlooked the ruined Eubrones. The drop was quite fearsome. “Come over here. I’ll show you where it happened.” It was a long shot, surely no hunter would fall for this kind of trick.
“Really? Where?” It took all of Amadeus’s composure to keep from smiling in relief.
“Right….there!” Amadeus pivoted, driving his knee squarely into the man’s back, throwing the man almost a yard into the air, out over the abyss. That brief moment seemed to last ages, the Hunter slowly turned his head to look at Amadeus, with the faintest smile on his lips. Then he was gone, plummeting to the ground. Amadeus wasn’t stupid enough to look over the edge to see if the fall had killed the man, he was sure that it hadn’t.
He took a brief moment to snap the Hunter’s staff over his knee before running into the forest. He was fairly certain that it was just an expensive walking aid, but one could never take chances when dealing with Hunters. Going back to the camp was not an option. He had just attacked a Hunter, he was a fugitive now. It had been nice being a captain, even if it wasn’t for long.
--------------------
Razial stepped out of the crater formed by his fall, brushing dirt off his coat. Great, now he needed to climb that damn mountain again.
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