Forum Settings
       
This thread is locked

Tell us your story for a chance at a VIP key!Follow

#1 Nov 26 2010 at 6:41 PM Rating: Excellent
Inkie in Disguise
*
239 posts
Were you a mighty warrior before you Ascended? Maybe you were a lethal assassin paid to exact revenge for those who hired you. Every character has a story - tell us yours for the chance to win a VIP key!

Please note: Deadline to post your story is noon pacific time (GMT -8:00) November 29th, 2010. At that time, we will lock the thread and announce the winners shortly thereafter.

I've set aside a good amount of VIP keys for this, so be creative!

Edit: By popular request, this has been extended to Monday November 29th, 2010.

Edited, Nov 27th 2010 8:22pm by Kaasha

Edited, Nov 29th 2010 3:04pm by Kaasha Lock Thread: Contest End
____________________________
Creepy Girl Extraordinaire
#2 Nov 26 2010 at 6:59 PM Rating: Good
*
155 posts
Haha I am so entering this even though I have my key can still try to win one for my fiance.
Is there a word count min or max?
____________________________
_______________________________________
Hikaru Najumi - Paragon Reaver ?

Sider Kilans - Archon Warlock ?

Jarion Evarmir - Warlock Necro ?
#3 Nov 26 2010 at 7:03 PM Rating: Excellent
Inkie in Disguise
*
239 posts
CoreenHipae wrote:
Haha I am so entering this even though I have my key can still try to win one for my fiance.
Is there a word count min or max?


Everyone can enter and there's no min/max word count. The more creative, the better!
____________________________
Creepy Girl Extraordinaire
#4 Nov 26 2010 at 7:47 PM Rating: Good
Scholar
17 posts
The cold wind blowing through the open window of the ruined tower stilled as suddenly as it had come. The body lying on the cracked and blackened stone chalked with mystic symbols and cluttered with magical paraphernalia stirred, a small moan escaping through clenched, chattering teeth. In the shadows two forms stepped forward, hesitant yet eager, one hunched with age and one standing tall and straight. The naked body of the boy, surely not yet twenty summers old, stirred again, raising a head full of golden hair and pointed ears.

"Izzban," breathed the hunched and robed figure, "He has revived!"

Memories flooded the youth's mind, recalling that which had come before. His head snapped back with the power of returned intellect and his eyes widened as he relived....

A small child running in a field at the edge of a forest, a stream murmuring as if into a lover's ear beside him as he ran. The sure knowledge that nothing bad existed, he was safe and forever was now.

The child now older sitting in the corner of the small cottage while his mother weeps into a handkerchief and a dark robed stranger watches with disinterest. No longer the carefree small child, grief and loss have changed the world and he knows this night will change his world even moreso. Money changes hands and the child picks up his knapsack, knowing a last embrace before the terrible lonliness of the road with the dark robed stranger.

The child now almost a teen huddled under his meagre blanket on a ragged straw pallet, hunger gnawing at him in almost sickening waves but nervous energy not yet dispersed by the events of the day preclude sleep. Today he had connected with elemental earth. An achievement rarely matched by students seven years his senior and his master's astonished look culminated by the single hushed word, "Prodigy..."

A teen now well into his studies with free roam of the smallish tower he shares with his master, still no time for food there is so much to learn as the element of fire divulges it's secrets to the budding Elementalist.

A young man, sleeping his erratic, restless few hours as his will drives him to study, to learn, to master. A sudden awakening as the small tower shakes with the impact of devastating magical forces. He scrambles for the exit but a riot of falling stones, erupting flame, and Blood Storm invaders crush the young man before ever he could defend himself. His last memory of the destruction of the tower and the death cry of his master...

...Thrust the naked young man out of his memories and into the present. Rising to his feet, the hunchbacked figure hands him a robe and the tall figure hands him a book. "History of Telara after the Blood Storm" is written on the spine of the book.

"We have much to talk about, including how you will take your revenge." The tall man says, and leads the young man out of the ruined tower and toward his destiny.
____________________________
We tend to become like the worst in those we oppose.
#5 Nov 26 2010 at 10:45 PM Rating: Excellent
Scholar
*
118 posts
Liar, cheat, scoundrel. I have been known by many names. Some far worse than these. Some better, but those names are just from people who haven't noticed the scam yet. I am Marcalo Dirflan elemenatalist extraordinaire. Of course, that part is the lie. In fact when it comes to magic I'm more ignorant than the poor souls I am scamming.

Granted the people in my audience are actually witnessing me calling forth the elementals to do my bidding. At least that is what they see. Their minds are willing to accept what I tell them is happening long before I even step on the stage. I always keep my audience waiting. It causes them to desire me more because I'm denying them my presence. I'm also allowing the drugs to fully set in and then dissipate long before I could even possibly be inadvertently affected. I suppose you could call me more of an apothecary rather than a mage, but that distinction doesn't enter their mind, well until they awaken to find all their valuables are suddenly my valuables and my servants and I are long gone.

I discovered the blend by accident. My life of crime was far more direct at that time. I had broken into an Apothecary's house and was taking anything that looked to be of use. Unexpectedly the man came home while I was still there. I attempted to set up an ambush, but apparently my skills in stealth are less than my skills in magic. I came in quick with my dagger. I intended to hit him in the base of the spine as he passed my hiding spot. He was well aware of where I was hiding, possibly before he entered the house. He continued to walk to set up a trap of his own. As I made my downward jab he simply stutter stepped and sprayed me in the face with a small container he had concealed. Instantly my world was different. Any suggestion he gave me seemed like something I wanted to do, anything he spoke of came alive in the room.

I shutter now to think of what he would have done to me without intervention. My guess would be drive me to insanity by casting images of my darkest nightmares into light for me to face over and over until I gutted myself to end the suffering. That is what I would have done in that position. Fortunately for me my servants, or accomplices as they would like to think grew weary of waiting for me to return. While I'm the better thief, they are much better in all the arts of murder. My nightmares ended as the apothecary's begun. An arrow now sticking through his chest. He began to turn but two more accented the point the first had made and I was carried to safety.

When the effects wore off I returned to find out how to recreate this beautiful concoction. Fortunately for me, the apothecary was very meticulous in his notes and he even posed some hypotheses about ways to leave a lingering affect or mass administration such as the innocent incense sticks that I have so enjoyed.

Ironically when I was reborn I could feel fire coursing through my very soul. The power of the Pyromancer is nearly impossible to contain, and it is hard to want to contain it. If the Vigil believe I can be a Guardian of Telara than I surely will try, however I do occasionally wake up screaming, grabbing at arrow wounds that are no longer there.
#6 Nov 27 2010 at 12:39 AM Rating: Excellent
7 posts
Slivers of sunlight were visible through the stained glass in the laboratory. I don't know how many days had passed since I had tasted decent food or drink. I do know that the high council of Catari was patiently waiting for the outcome of our tests on the battered piece of technology we found after our victory at Port Scion. I had spent days dissecting its curiously crafted outer shell. It was composed of metals and some sort of crystal that I had never seen. When held up to the sun, it gave of a slight humming sound like a siren of the seas. I attempted at first to see if it could absorb or be penetrated by elemental fire with one of my pyromancer spells. The arcane flames licked at the shell only to fizzle and burn out. I would need more extreme methods to see what lied beneath this otherworldly device. I found a way past that shell after a long period of trial and error sessions. If you tapped on the crystal structures with two iron hammers at two different points, that minute cracks started to form in the metal segments of the shell. Many hours later and sore wrists to boot, I finally penetrated into the inner workings. Just as I was about to try a spell to see if I could melt some of the metal into a liquid form I heard, "Novas, High Mage Catari wants a report on your findings so far!", and I spun around to see Councilor Dawshar tapping his foot in a stern manner against the stone floor.

I proceeded to inform the Councilor of my findings to this point, and he kindly responded by telling me to take a break that I smelled like the sulfur mines that are found in Scarlet Gorge! I was happy to hear that my peers were at this time satisfied with my findings so far. It wasn’t easy being a practitioner of the alchemical arts. I sped off to my humble room to get some much deserved sleep and sustenance. A few hours later I think I was awoken by a big loud noise. It was the guards of Quicksilver College. One guard ran into my room, and yelled to me “Quick, get your gear ready. We are off to war!” I was shocked and didn’t know what to think. I grabbed my best robes, my staff and a knapsack full of essential items. I then flew down the stairs to the courtyard where everyone was gathering. One of Catari’s generals stood before the assembled mass and said” Men and women of the great city state of Catari, we head off to war against a powerful and benevolent foe. The great Shade awaits us, and we will bring the fight to it, for the betterment of man and our world.” What would the future hold for me, and could the secret to defeating the Shade still lie in the mysterious piece of technology that I had yet to figure out?
#7 Nov 27 2010 at 4:38 AM Rating: Decent
7 posts
Senseless decisions... I did not see this coming... I've been running on empty for so.. long...

Numbness; move forward; pain; labor on. This is my life.

Am I meant for more than... mediocrity; simpleness; to die this way? Of course I will--as my father before me...

Familiar with the earth, the smell of the stalls, the gallows, the grave-- I know who I am.

A stranger's face passes by... an unseen glance... as we pass by torch-light. Solitude, it fills the silence, as I secretly long for more... and she offers it finally upon my last crimson breath.

More?

More than this?

Of course there is, my child...
#8 Nov 27 2010 at 4:55 AM Rating: Excellent
Scholar
28 posts
This is a true story spoken in a story line instead.
<story>
A young kobold by the name of Equal was born, he was born into a world of dangers. This young kobold would soon find him self to be a Hunter of the Magnificent Realm of Midgard. He would strap on his bow and his expert crafted special arrows and venture out and kill what eer was in his way.

He eventually became a 50th season hunter, ready to undertake the mission of defending midgard from the opposing realms Albion and Hibernia.. this should prove to be a good choice as he was one of the few who captured a relic.
On a cold winter morning in yggdra forest Equal was roaming around the snow looking for his prey.
he was a masterful tracker and could see alot of signs of people who had passed through his area. he saw corpses everywhere , both midgardians and albion corpses.. and in the middle of it all floating just above the ground , a magical Scabbard was hovering.. Equal decided to study it further and soon found out that this scabbard was infact the Scabbard of Excalibur.. the beloved artifact of Albion that proves their strength and fortitude. It would be a great victory if midgard could claim this relic. Equal saw no other choice that to leave his fellow midgarians behind and grap the relic and head towards Uppland where the Scabbard of Excalibur was to be joined with thors hammer.
Soon after taking the relic equal was hunted by all and every assassin from the realm of albion. but lucky for equal he knew the terrain and all the little shortcuts there was from yggdra to uppland.

Equal wanted to do it safe , but at the same time he knew that for every minute that passed he would grown weaker in the presence of the albion artifact , and Rogues and Nightshades were lurking around every corner of the woods.
But at last he finally made it to the mountain just accross Mjolnir Faste , where he was supposed to deliver the scabbard. but an army of albions is blocking all entrances to the door. he calls upon his friends to come of with a distraction for the albions outside mjolnir faste. it was a quick battle and many midgardians died, but the managed to draw the albions far enough away from the gate to that Equal Windfader could runup to the doors and walk up to the Relic lord and passover the relic and empower the entire realm of midgard with the strength and constitution of Albions powerful relic.

And a hunter who was an unknow lurker would now become famous and a Hero of the realm.

</story>

if someone missed the conclussion or meaning of this story , it is very simple someone had captured a relic , they met a force they couldnt beat , they dropped the relic behind a tree.. i stumbled upon it by random and took it ran to the relic keep asked for a diversion and ran up and was the hero for 2 weeks while we had the relic :)

Edited, Nov 27th 2010 3:01pm by Equal
____________________________
Roaaaah phear meh
#9 Nov 27 2010 at 12:06 PM Rating: Excellent
**
405 posts
It was cold that night... colder than usual, but we made due. A nice fire in the hearth and a bowl of stew from my wife Chandra and the cold was banished from our home. I guess you can't really call it a home, more of a cottage. Fifteen years ago we moved out here to the woods, we grew tired of the constant struggles for power and monetary gain that city life braught and chose to live out our lives in peace. We weren't hermits mind you, we had weekly visits from several nieghbors throughout the woods but by and large we lived on our own with our newly born son Ethan and that was the way we liked it.

That cold cold night however things changed, the fire and the stew did nothing for the cold that decended upon the house around midnight. Then I new that it had finally come. I suppose you'd like to know what "it" is, years ago while we still lived in town (before we had even met0 there was a man, his name was Ferrand and he had been after Chandras heart since they were children. Ferrand was a good man, or so I was told, but somthing was wrong with him, just looking into his eyes you could see a lack of somthing human. Needless to say he was displeased when I swept Chandra off her feet with my amazing dance moves and beautiful man-body. He was part of the reason that we moved from the town, things were never quite right. Nothing directly violent (he knew better than to come at me) but odd things like dead cats on our doorstep or wilted flowers in our entire garden. Back to the present, the cold was familiar, it was Farrand and he had come to stake his claim. I stood in the doorframe and readied my axe he would not have me without blood. With Chandra and Ethan safley behind me we braced for the entrance.. it never came.. instead a thick putrid black fog seeped through the doors and windows, before I could stop it both my son and my wife crumbled to the floor.. withering before my eyes... FFFFFEEEErrrrraaaannnndddd!! I let out a shout and stumbled out the door, my very life dripping away, I heard his laugh and aimed a blow through the fog, with a thud and a split the axe head found its mark in Ferrand's and we both dropped to the ground.... darkness. I awoke in what seemed the next morning, as I streched my limbs I found them to be much more quick and nimble than my burly build was used to. Flinging my arm in the air a thick Jet of black energy shot out and scorched a hole through the nearest tree... looking around I found nothing but a derelect old cabin and 3 tomb stones to the right of it. There I fell and wept for the last time. For I was no longer Arthurious master of the wood, no I was somthing else somthing dark, and all that darkness wanted, was vengance.

-Thought I'd submit it just for fun, if a 2nd code is avaliable for a friend that'd be great but enjoy either way =)
#10 Nov 27 2010 at 12:50 PM Rating: Excellent
Scholar
32 posts
Awakening to the rubble, and smoke everything lay in ruins on the day after the Mathosian civil war. Trying to get my bearings straight, and clear my mind, I stand up to look at the devastation. I can hear the moans and cries of Guardians and Defiant alike. It carries with the wind like a river of agony. People are dragging themselves away in different directions not bothering with one another as they pass by each other. Sometimes, there is a knowing glance at each other, that says, another day, another fight.

The Defiant will, no doubt, rebuke the will of the Gods, for they care not. I on the other hand, will pray that we find our way, back from this insanity. I can see where everyone is congregating, and as I draw closer I can hear their murmurs and quiet whispers. They are already starting discussions on rebuilding our temples and halls of worship. As a cleric, there in lies my greatest strengths. As the days pass into weeks and weeks into months, we have finally returned to some normalcy among us. We assume The Defiant have done the same.

While our party is out looking for supplies, we can hear the dreadful banging, the thunder above.... we know it is upon us once again. We gather together, for the strengths in our numbers, and rather than wait for the terror to descent upon us, we start hammering away, trying to break open the swollen belly that would give birth to the inhabitants from the realm above. With every tear the gap grows wider.....by this time we have called our best to battle this rift.... and we will fight to the death to save our home, to save our land, to save our world, all of that which is Telara.
____________________________
If you don't have time to do it right the first time, when are you going to find the time to do it over?
#11 Nov 27 2010 at 5:46 PM Rating: Decent
6 posts
Murderer...assassin...I was once called these names. I was merely misunderstood. It's not always about money, power, etc. Anyone can be motivated by these petty things.
Me? I love the rush I get when the job is almost done and I can taste it. The adrenaline, the taste of my own blood in my mouth, the feel of the blades in my tightly clenched fist. This is my life. I live in the shadows only to come out for a brief moment and be gone before the echoes of my deeds have reached your ears. Assassin? Ha! I mock the term. I am an artist. I invoke beautiful terror in a limitless canvas in the minds of my enemies. The creativity lies in each victim's mind. It manifests differently in the thoughts and dreams of young, old, weak, strong, or anyone in between. I am fear incarnate.
#12 Nov 27 2010 at 6:44 PM Rating: Default
1 post
On Conquer Online, also known as CO, (a MMORPG Game), my char’s name is Zantrill. It’s a name I made up over 20 years ago for D&D, and it has stuck for every game I have played since.

7 years ago, I started playing “Zantrill” on Conquer Online. When I first started out, I knew what I wanted to be already. A Fire Tao! It was difficult in the beginning to level up, because it’s a PvP at anytime, and some have no concern for your new’ness.

Anywho, I didn’t give up! I met many friends, and joined great Guilds. In 7 years, I leveled Zantrill 392 times, and spent $3K (USD) on him. I love my Char, and although the game is old, I still check in for convo with old mates, and kill old enemies. Here are some stats on Zantrill for CO.

Lvl: 132 2nd Reborn (leveled up 392 times)
Class: FireSaint (Fire Tao)
Guild: NgloriusBastrds (not misspelled)(Retired)
Position: Guild Leader(Retired) I rep a new guild named The Black Company
Server: Dreams/Freedom
BattlePower: 268
All Super, 2 Soc, +6 and +7 equipment.

Zantrill has attitude when others have attitude, but kind to those who are kind. You mess with his friends, he will throw down some spells, like Thunder, Fire, Fire of ****, Tornado, (Tornado is my fave), Inferno, Fire meteor, and Bomb. He has a Gold Guard that can be summoned, as well as a Magical Bat. He is weak against melee attacks, but jumps around a lot, to dodge his would be killer, and calls down magic to handle them and their ego. He got his foot planted in a guild in the beginning called The 7th House. Their he learned what he needed to become the Tao he is today. He was reborn, not just once, but twice, and is a Pure Fire Tao. He is currently trying to get the last 6 levels of the game, which are very difficult, and not many, not even in 7 years, have reached. Come by some time and say hello!

Thanks for reading!
#13 Nov 27 2010 at 7:07 PM Rating: Good
**
405 posts
Zantrill wrote:
On Conquer Online, also known as CO, (a MMORPG Game), my char’s name is Zantrill. It’s a name I made up over 20 years ago for D&D, and it has stuck for every game I have played since.

7 years ago, I started playing “Zantrill” on Conquer Online. When I first started out, I knew what I wanted to be already. A Fire Tao! It was difficult in the beginning to level up, because it’s a PvP at anytime, and some have no concern for your new’ness.

Anywho, I didn’t give up! I met many friends, and joined great Guilds. In 7 years, I leveled Zantrill 392 times, and spent $3K (USD) on him. I love my Char, and although the game is old, I still check in for convo with old mates, and kill old enemies. Here are some stats on Zantrill for CO.

Lvl: 132 2nd Reborn (leveled up 392 times)
Class: FireSaint (Fire Tao)
Guild: NgloriusBastrds (not misspelled)(Retired)
Position: Guild Leader(Retired) I rep a new guild named The Black Company
Server: Dreams/Freedom
BattlePower: 268
All Super, 2 Soc, +6 and +7 equipment.

Zantrill has attitude when others have attitude, but kind to those who are kind. You mess with his friends, he will throw down some spells, like Thunder, Fire, Fire of ****, Tornado, (Tornado is my fave), Inferno, Fire meteor, and Bomb. He has a Gold Guard that can be summoned, as well as a Magical Bat. He is weak against melee attacks, but jumps around a lot, to dodge his would be killer, and calls down magic to handle them and their ego. He got his foot planted in a guild in the beginning called The 7th House. Their he learned what he needed to become the Tao he is today. He was reborn, not just once, but twice, and is a Pure Fire Tao. He is currently trying to get the last 6 levels of the game, which are very difficult, and not many, not even in 7 years, have reached. Come by some time and say hello!

Thanks for reading!


LoL dude nobody played this game and I have no idea what to do with a bat or a spell called Bomb. Please brag elsewhere.
#14 Nov 27 2010 at 11:08 PM Rating: Excellent
*
52 posts
The backstory/bio I plan to use for my Paladin.





The chilling wind stung like tiny razors, all around the enemy stood preparing to make their move. They were surrounded, hundreds of foes and only a few dozen of them. The odds were against them, the battle seemed meaningless, and yet they knew they had no choice. Everyone was counting on them, their friends, their families. Though the battle would most certainly end in death, they had to fight for what they knew was right. intrigued nostalgia

The wind howled and bit and then a loud bellow echoed through the foe. A booming horn sounded and they began their attack. The clashing and banging of battle filled the air as the horde of foes attacked will all their might.

One by one Terrius' allies fell, the fear in their faces showing that even the bravest soldiers felt pain. Soon only a handful of them remained their foes crude but relentless and strong. Without warning the hordes stepped back and a tall cloaked man stepped forth.

"Surrender now and we shall spare your pathetic lives" the dark figure spoke, "Your village will fall and there is nothing you can do to stop it!" The enemy army laughed in mockery.

"Though we may die, though all of our efforts may be in vain, We die knowing it was for justice, and to protect the weak!" Terrius yelled in rebuttal, the army laughed even more. "You may take from us our bodies, but you will never destroy our souls!" With those words Terrius charged forward thrusting him blade through the chest of the cloaked figure. "If it is the gods will that I die here today I will take you with me!"

The figure stammered backwards as the enemy army rushed back to fighting cutting down the remaining men and leaving Terrius standing amongst his dead comrades. "Take this all in, for this is what you have done. You Terrius, have sacrificed the lives of many men, you will not be given passage to a nice place. No for what you have done there is only eternal death."

The bitter sting of a cold steel blade being lunged into his stomach was surreal. It felt as though he could close his eyes and wish this all away, but he knew better. This was the end, he had failed. The next thing he felt was the cold darkness as everything faded to grey.

~~

He couldn't remember much of his past. The images he could remember haunted him like a horrible nightmare. Dead and mangled soldiers, their faces filled with fear and pain, all around his comrades lay dead. The last thing he could remember was the searing pain of cold steel and then the cold darkness.

Every time his eyes shut he'd see their bloody faces. He didn't know why these were the memories he could see, maybe divine punishment for his weakness, or maybe it was a calling to take up arms once more. It didn't matter he knew he could never allow it to happen again. He took up his shield and sword and declared to himself and the empty room in which he sat, "I will no longer fear, I refuse to let my comrades down ever again."

The wrongs of the past had to be righted. He would become a protector of all things, he would fight the forces of evil and defend his allies from harm. He would defend the weak with his shield and cut down evil with his blade. He would become a Paladin.


|Edited to add some more to it|
Edited, Nov 28th 2010 12:10am by TariussRift

Edited, Nov 28th 2010 10:47pm by TariussRift
____________________________
Tariuss Antonia Bayle EQ2
#15 Nov 28 2010 at 12:55 AM Rating: Decent
**
405 posts

- Moe, former pro fantasy novelist.

Edited, Nov 28th 2010 1:59am by Bohtauri

Edited, Nov 28th 2010 2:00am by moelester
#16 Nov 28 2010 at 2:47 AM Rating: Good
Scholar
35 posts
Midnight.

The last of the merchants made their way down the streets and into their respective houses. An assassin tiptoes along the rooftops, scouting out his next victim; a fat man by the name of Menzo Barsolis. Whoever had hired the assassin had been wronged by this fat man, and so he would die.

As silent as death, the assassin closed in on his target, peering over the edge of the roof at the target. The air seemed heavy, and a strange electric haze seemed to be crackling all around. The assassin passed it off as simple adrenaline, anticipating his kill. He slid the blackened steel dagger from a sheath on his hip, as quiet as a light snowfall.

Without hesitating, the assassin dropped from the rooftop, raising the dagger with deadly accuracy.

Everything went dark for a moment, and the assassin could not breathe. When the obsidian haze finally cleared, he spotted a shadow descending upon him. It spoke in tongues he could not understand, and it's voice sounded of shrilling octaves and hellish pitches, chilling his soul.

The sky above him began to twist and turn, and the very heavens appeared to be cracking at the seams. The night sky lit up as a pillar of light struck the ground before them, ripping a hole in the very fabric of existence. He had heard tales of these things, but knew nothing of them; thought them to be simple rumors.. After all, they had only been happening in the far reaches of civilization.

Until now.

The rift opened, and a gravitational force began to churn around it, tearing pieces of structures away. An aura hummed about it, taking the shape of a deadly tornado. Cobble stone lifted from beneath it, and the ground appeared to be glowing a strange, sickly green-blue.

A demonic, gnarled foot slammed onto the ground from it, sending a shockwave in all directions. The assassin was blown through the wall, and the large spike finally came into view... In all the time it took for his brain to conceive of his surroundings, he had been impaled by a shard of rock from the rift's base.

The demon's gnarled visage twisted in agony, releasing a frightening roar into the night air. It's eyes burned like molten cores, piercing through the night. Tattered wings spread and flexed, threatening to take flight. The beast's body writhed and twisted, and the clinking of the chains which lined it's cracking skin began to pull and retract. Muscles rippled beneath it's flesh, up it's legs and down it's arms. It gripped two obsidian war saws, serrated from tip to hilt.

And that was only the first.

Smaller, red and black imps skittered from out of the rift, cackling and snorting. They ran off in all directions, grabbing kicking and screaming pilgrims and dragging them back into their plane.

The previous demon began to walk towards the assassin, only to be suddenly crushed by an even more monstrous hoof. It lifted, leaving a bloodied and burning skeleton of the once-living creature. Through the rift, a form suddenly appeared.

The sky darkened into a sick crimson, and the monstrous behemoth from the demonic plane beyond stepped through. It had no name, as hollow as the holes in it's skull where it's eyes once were. It's gaping maw showed rows of bloody, jagged teeth. Horns twisted in all directions, piercing in and out of it's hairless head. It's massive shoulders flexed corded muscles beneath it's scarred flesh. It wore black, bladed armor, bearing an insignia of a devil's visage impaled with dozens of blades and axes.

This giant demon towered over the buildings around it, and each step it took left behind fiery embers. The city's militia had finally descended upon the rift, combating the vile imps and saving some of the city's people.

A couple of the militia turned to run, only to be intercepted by shrieking bat-like creatures from above. They phased in and out of existence, seeming to be caught between planes. Their gnarled claws gripped and lifted these cowards from the ground, carrying them high into the air only to be dropped a hundred feet to their deaths.

The behemoth raised it's massive bloody battle axe, cutting a swath through the militia's ranks with ease. Arrows streaked through the skies, bouncing off of the demon's carapace. One brave man stepped up and swung his longsword at the demon's ankle. A loud "CHING" rang throughout the air, and what sounded to be a sick, throaty laugh erupted from within the creature's huge chest.

It raised the barbed pommel of it's battle axe and mashed the poor soldier into the ground. The cracking of bones and grinding of flesh sent the rest of the militia in a mad sprawl to escape the demon's long reach.

A piercing white light streaked through the night, and the demon let out a shrill and bloody roar as a shock wave hit it directly into the chest. A sparking, fiery bolt sizzled off of it's hide, and the very impact of the attack caused the demon to stumble. It's hollow visage twisted in the direction of the bolt, spotting the culprit.

A lone man stood amidst the chaos around him. A cowl pulled over his face clouded his features in darkness, ruffling the cloak about his body in the wind. It pulled aside only long enough to reveal the leather straps lining his slender form. Two daggers lie within sheaths at his torso, and twin swords in their respective scabbards on his hips. Another assassin, perhaps?

The demon let out another cursed cackle, and took a daring step forward, rocking the earth beneath. The man held firm. The demon leaned forward, letting out an earsplitting roar, kicking up a musty, hot wind, kicking up the new assassin's cowl and revealing his face.

His once-closed eyes suddenly opened, clouded with a glowing hue of blue. He charged forward, hands on the hilts of his blades. The demon reared back and brought it's battle axe down in a brutal chop, aimed right for the assassin.

With blinding speed, the man appeared to phase out of existence momentarily, and a faded image of his person surged forward in a flash. An electrical haze overtook his form as he came back into reality, and his blades were suddenly in his hands.

A riftstalker.

The demon took a step backward as the riftstalker leapt into the air, closing the gap between them with lightning speed. His blades crossed, blurring into motion. Just as the riftstalker's booted feet came into contact with the demon's chest, a blinding darting of pokes and slashes had cut up the demon's hollowed visage, leaving bloody swaths throughout it's face.

A blade dancer?

How could one man possess these deadly arts? The demon had to react. It's free hand whipped up in an attempt to grasp the now falling riftstalker/blade dancer, but an aura crackled around him as his body faded from physical existence. The demon lost sight of it's opponent.

It was too late... Before the demon knew what had happened, it felt the pressure of the man's form on it's shoulders. Crossing blades tore through the demon's skull, rending brain and bone from it's neck.

For a moment, all was silent... Time seemed to stand still at the heed of the man's prowess... Droplets of blood hung in midair, breaking away from the gout of gore spraying from the demon's neck. Onlookers held their breath in amazement at such a feat. And just like that, time returned to motion, and the behemoth fell. The earth shook under the impact of it's giant form, throwing out dust in all directions.

The last thing the impaled assassin ever saw.

A riftstalker's soul melded with that of a blade dancer.

From there, a whirring of blades cut through the lesser demon ranks, and the battle was soon brought against the rift. Though the casualties were severe, the lone man had successfully fought back the horde of demons. And as the rift closed, the man disappeared within it's depths...

...To finish the fight.

Edited, Nov 28th 2010 3:55am by Virut

Edited, Nov 28th 2010 4:16am by Virut

Edited, Nov 28th 2010 6:09pm by Virut
____________________________
My writings come from a twisted imagination.
My ideas comes from a lifetime of terrifying nightmares.
My inspiration comes from pure madness.
Who said psychosis was a bad thing?
#17 Nov 28 2010 at 3:06 AM Rating: Excellent
Scholar
37 posts
Part I of III.

Two months Fadan and his crew of seven journeyed deep and fought their way through the mountain wilderness of the south. He was a soldier and he had been sent to the Xiros martial school to ask for aid. At this two months' end, he and his men emerged upon a vast stone courtyard, perhaps two hundred feet in length and just as wide, the far edge from them ending at three, one-foot high stone steps. At the very top, the third step that expanded into a floor, sat a lone old man, crosslegged with his shoulders and back hunched. Pillars and large, smooth, angular structures of granite stone loomed behind the man, and beyond loomed a great mountain, for they were the at the base of such. The old man's eyes appeared to be closed or deeply squinted. He was bald except for the stray white hair on the sides of his head and the white beard that dangled below his chest. His gray robe, as wrinkly as his flesh, almost matched the color of the granite. In one hand he held a pipe and puffed away merrily. On his right lay a beating cane of thick black oak. For a moment Fadan wondered what kind of pain the cane could cause.

He and his men approached the old man and stopped at the first step, and they knelt into a seiza. Fadan understood the old man had heard them from far away and that the old man knew he was a soldier from a city to the north. Fadan's training and long service as a soldier and his region had impressed upon him a certain movement, a certain gait of step; and those with skill could identify certain traits through the sound of step alone, beyond youth or age and vitality or weakness.

"Old master," bowed Fadan.

The old man blew out a long smoke. "Yes, yes, I know why you come… The world is certainly changing." HIs voice was old, raspy, the tone nonchalant, as if he were remarking about something trivial or an everything ordinary conversation.

The world is changing. It was certainly a mild way to put it, mused Fadan. Yes, the world was changing. In a very, very dire way. The world was tearing. No one knew why. Rifts, they called it. And out of these poured abominations, a scourge that rampaged destruction and threaten all of existence.

The old man picked up his beating cane and tapped it firmly thrice on the stone floor. The sound reverberated across the vast space.

Fadan waited, and in moments, he heard before he saw, a dragging, scraping sound and then the appearance of the source of the sound. A large man, in the prime years, thick and hard with muscle, harder than the stone around him, wearing only a gray loincloth, barefeet, lumbered forward. He stood at least a head taller than any of them here, and the shadow of one arm alone could easily encompass any of them. A prisoner gauntlet-type bracelet, granite stone material, bound his left wrist. Welded to the bracelet was a thick chain, perhaps as long as the man was tall, and welded at the other end of the chain was the handle of the most massive weapon of death Fadan had ever seen. A double-sided axe. Dark and ominous, seeming to suck in light. The handle, as thick as a normal man's body, ten feet in length, towered the man. The blades, monstrous and sharp as an elder dragon's fang, each three feet across. Great weapons made of stone had the crushing strength of stone and imbued with the robustness of steel. This monstrosity of an axe could be no less.

As seeming testament to the sheer epic size of the axe, the approaching warrior did not carry the weapon, but rather the handle was weighted across his back and shoulder, with his hand gripping the chain end, as he dragged laboriously the blades across the floor, which made the scraping sound. How could such a massive weapon be wielded if the handler had to drag to move it?

The warrior stopped before them, and met them with a neutral gaze.

"You will go with them and you will serve them. Until you have earned your Name," said the old man.

"Yes, master," spoke the warrior. The warrior-who-had-no-name could only earn his name and also his freedom if he succeeded in breaking the bond on his wrist. Only two ways could allow the breaking of the bond of enchantment. One way would be trials of blood to weaken the bond. The other way would be to become insanely stronger. The No-Name intended both. This is the path of the Champion. Blood and strength.
#18 Nov 28 2010 at 6:22 AM Rating: Excellent
Scholar
*
73 posts
Blueplain stood on the edge of darkness. His heart thumped irraticly, he would risk all to get her back. Blueplain closed his eyes and in one simple movement he plunged towards the dark abyss. He did not know how long he fell hours mayby days but when he finnaly reached the bottom he felt physically sick. All around him bodies were screwn, scrambling over each other like a coloney of insects. The smell twisted his stumuck but his will was set. Gradually inch by inche blueplain manoverd himself over the putrid mound untill finnaly he came to rest at its foot. In the pitch blackness blueplain could harderly see past his nose. What really frightend him was the dark shadows he saw within this darkness. Suddenly a set of blue firey eyes shot towards him and stopped an inch from his face.
"What brings you too this realm foolish mortal, you do not belong here your time has not come"
"I have come for my love Amrielle fould beast let me past!"
"I can only let you past if you become alike to thoese that dwell here! do you know not who you are talking to" the shadow hissed.
"I do not need to know who you are I only need you to clear my path!" blueplain yelled clenching his fists tightly.
The shadow gave a veroshouse laugh and suddenly the cavern lit with blue flame.
"I am known by many names in your world but I am best known as death!, now I shall grant your wish!"
Death swung his syth viciously towards blueplain who suddenly ducked to avoid the dealy blade. Instantly blueplain swung his foot around with imense strength knocking death off his feet. Death was quick to reract and rolled over before blueplains fist colided with his face, but in doing so his syth slide along the floor and balanced upon the edge of a casm.
Death shot up into the air and what was once a dark shadow was now ingulphed in an intence flame.
"You fool do you think you could beat death with your bear hands! HAHAHA!"
"NO! blueplain shouted, I thought I might use this!"
Death eyes widened in horro as he saw his own syth clasped in the hands of blueplain.
"You dare use my own syth against me! YOU DARE!"
Suddenly the cavern shook as the fire of death shot towards the ceiling. Blueplain gripped the shaft tightly and without another moments hesitation swung the syth into the air towards his enraged adversary.
"Deaths screams echoed across the depths of ****, he looked down in horror as his own body began to cinder into ashes"
"NO THIS CARNT HAPPEN I AM DEATH!"
with that last cry death was gone and the syth landed on to the ground its blade burried deep into the earth.
Blueplain shakeing from what had just happend stumbled toward the syth. He then gave out a yell probberly spured on by the adrenalin from the fight
"I am comming Amrielle!"
Blueplain jumped deeper into the depths of **** syth in hand ready to take on anything thta layed before him

The gulph of sorrow

Blueplains body ached in the cold. Before him an expance of a twisted waste land as far as the eye could see. A myst surrounded this land, a terrible myst that seemed to reach into blueplains body and ache his very bones. As blueplain staggerd further into this plane he thought he could hear wispering floating in with the breeze. The wispers got louder untill he could finnaly hear what the voices said.
"You wont make it your a failliour, its your fault shes hear!"
"Look at you, your nothing how could you hope to succeed!"
The voices burrowed into blueplains mind engulphing him in shame and doubt. For hours the wispers tormented him and with each passing hour he became slower and weaker. Finnaly with the last of his energy he collapsed onto the floor and passed into darkness.
Blueplain did not know how long he laid upon the cursed earth, but when he awoke he could feel he was being carried. At first he did not react and passed in and out of conciousness. Suddenly his carrier picked up pace and blueplain lifted his head.
His eyes filled with horror. He could see all around him tiny black vile creatures, who screamed and spoke in an evil tongue.
"Let me go foul beasts!"
The beast did not stir but continued on there journey.
Blueplain looked around and saw a few feet away one of the bigger creatures carrying his syth, it was his ownly chance. Driving his feet into the creature below he managed to drop to the floor and gain his feet quickly. The thousands of creatures surrounded him on all sides and there dark red eyes pierced his soul.
"Stay back foul beasts!"
Blue swung his fists into the swarming onslaught of his enemies. They pilled onto him dragging him down but blueplain pushed on with the thought of his amrielle through the biteing and the scratching that burned every inch of his body.
He looked up and saw the syth and stretched out his hands to reach, but it was too far.
Blueplain was slowly dragged back and just before he let his fate be set a mirricle happend. The syth flew through the air and landed perfectly within his crasps.
The fire in blueplaines eyes that was rekindled at the point caused the creatures to back away.
His revenged was unleashed and with every slash and hack he took hundreads of the vile monsters out untill when enough had fallen the rest retreated into the depths of the myst.
Blueplain fell to the floor exhausted and rested upon the shaft of the syth. He cried shaken by the near scrape with death.
Suddenly the ground shook violently. Before blueplain could react a hole uponed beneath him and he was swallowed again by the darkness.

The heart of evil

Blueplain landed inside what appeard to be a bed chamber. A red room with twisted figures of creatures hanging around the walls. In the middle was a large bed surrounded by a black veil.
Blueplain stepped slowly towards the bed holding out his shaking hands. He grabbed the burning silk of the curtain and with one quick force he ripped it from the bed. Lifting his syth he prepared for what the beast was that dwelled inside this chamber. His hands suddenly went weak and he dropped the syth upon the floor.
"Amreille!" Blueplain shouted clasping hold of his love.
Amreille did not stir but breathed slowly and peacefully. How beautiful she looked at the moment. Her soft white skin, her beautiful long black hair. Blueplain kissed her black lips gently and set her down back on the bed.
"What are you doing in our chamber!"
A red firery figure stood at the foot of the bed. His eyes burned with rage and hatred.
"Satan give me back what is rightfully mine. We are soul mates and no man or immortal can come between that!"
Satan laughed menacingly picking up the syth at the foot of the bed.
"You fool she is now the bearrer of my child and when the anti christ is born onto your earth all the souls shall belong to me!, you may have bested death but you have no chance in **** of defeating a fallen angel!"
Satan swung the systh with dealy force and blueplain closed his eyes and waited for his demise,.... it did not come, when he opened his eyes he saw why. A beautiful angel clad in white and gold stood between him and satan holding back the shaft of the syth.
"Galadrial how dare you enter my domain!" hissed saten with intence fury.
"God cannot allow this to be Satan even in your own realm you are goverend by his will!"
"No this cannot be I am Satan!"
"You are nothing Satan you are just a pawn!"
Galadrial turned towards Amrielle and walked over to her side. With a soft kiss on her forehead she awoke.
"Rise Amrielle your nightmare is over and satans childs is gone, Take her Blueplain, you courage and love allowed me to enter this accursed place you have done well and you alone have saved her"
With that galadrial coverd blueplain and Amrielle in his large gold wings and they awoke back inside there little cottage were they belonged.

Inspired by the poem Dantes inferno

Edited, Nov 29th 2010 2:32pm by blueplain
#19 Nov 28 2010 at 10:50 AM Rating: Decent
She lay alone in her bed, the night air coming through her window and pulsing through her veins. She loves the night. Dark, still, enveloping you into its peaceful slumber. For Elfrodite, this is not a time of rest though. It's hunting time. She replays some of the most exciting kills back in her head. Her heart pumping, her blood racing, her hands twitching with excitement. She longs for her next kill. She needs it. She must have it. It is the hunt that fuels her.
#20 Nov 28 2010 at 9:46 PM Rating: Good
3 posts
"Nature does not provide, she possesses and we take from her. This principle is not below me for I live by it and will die by it. In time she will take form me all that I've taken from her and I will give her a proper return believe you me. I have felled small armies with an equivalent army of trees that I fletched into arrows. My companions would probably live a better life in their packs or prides, flocks or swarms; but I tame them and urge them on to do my bidding. I am selfish. I live for the rush of wind through my hair, I fight to protect things that I hold dear, my only regard to others is whether or not they will get an arrow through their heart or their head. I am by definition a Ranger and my familiarity with the wild and terrain is unmatched, I lay my services before you."

The prospectful employer eagerly set forth a bag of coins, bedazzled by the ranger's tale.
He paused a moment then asked, "Tell me what is your name? You aren't how I imagined a ranger to be." Before he could stop the mysterious ranger the bag of coins was slipped under the folds of a dark cloak and the church doors closed.

The midnight fog clung to the ranger's exposed face as he raced through underbrush as if it were a paved road, twigs and leaves that would normally have been snapped underfoot lay miraculously unharmed as he strode through the forest. In a moment's time he was upon a clearing which was centered around a small house inhabited by a young woman.

The ranger set the bag of coins at her doorstep and retreated to a nearby redwood with a small hollow to relax. From the thickening fog a red wolf appeared and the ranger looked up to it and smiled deeply. With a sigh he said, "For all my tlak of being aloof I can't understand my affection for this woman, it compels me to take these jobs because it is all I can do for her, she would never understand me." The wolf shook dew from it's coat and looked at the ranger wistfully, teasing him. Shaking his head the ranger laid back and thought of the next day's work, his target would be trailblazing through the heart of the forest with a heavily armed contingent of guards. The job would require his pinpoint accuracy that he had become famous for by taking these jobs to give gifts to his love. His love that would likely never even know he existed and as he thought on it he drifted into sleep.

The next morning he woke with a start as a warm hand gently touched his shoulder and as he opened his eyes he saw the beautiful face that drove him to what his old self would consider madness. as she opened her mouth to speak he deftly jumped around her and disappeared into the trees where his companion was waiting. The wolf was grinning showing it's abnormaly sized fangs and the ranger glanced away saying, "Well I met her, happy now?" Almost on queue the gentle sounds of the morning was disturbed by a chorus of armor grinding aginst wood. With a start the ranger was off but his mind and heart couldn't leave the clearing.
#21 Nov 28 2010 at 10:15 PM Rating: Good
**
405 posts
Tiboroun wrote:
"Nature does not provide, she possesses and we take from her. This principle is not below me for I live by it and will die by it. In time she will take form me all that I've taken from her and I will give her a proper return believe you me. I have felled small armies with an equivalent army of trees that I fletched into arrows. My companions would probably live a better life in their packs or prides, flocks or swarms; but I tame them and urge them on to do my bidding. I am selfish. I live for the rush of wind through my hair, I fight to protect things that I hold dear, my only regard to others is whether or not they will get an arrow through their heart or their head. I am by definition a Ranger and my familiarity with the wild and terrain is unmatched, I lay my services before you."

The prospectful employer eagerly set forth a bag of coins, bedazzled by the ranger's tale.
He paused a moment then asked, "Tell me what is your name? You aren't how I imagined a ranger to be." Before he could stop the mysterious ranger the bag of coins was slipped under the folds of a dark cloak and the church doors closed.

The midnight fog clung to the ranger's exposed face as he raced through underbrush as if it were a paved road, twigs and leaves that would normally have been snapped underfoot lay miraculously unharmed as he strode through the forest. In a moment's time he was upon a clearing which was centered around a small house inhabited by a young woman.

The ranger set the bag of coins at her doorstep and retreated to a nearby redwood with a small hollow to relax. From the thickening fog a red wolf appeared and the ranger looked up to it and smiled deeply. With a sigh he said, "For all my tlak of being aloof I can't understand my affection for this woman, it compels me to take these jobs because it is all I can do for her, she would never understand me." The wolf shook dew from it's coat and looked at the ranger wistfully, teasing him. Shaking his head the ranger laid back and thought of the next day's work, his target would be trailblazing through the heart of the forest with a heavily armed contingent of guards. The job would require his pinpoint accuracy that he had become famous for by taking these jobs to give gifts to his love. His love that would likely never even know he existed and as he thought on it he drifted into sleep.

The next morning he woke with a start as a warm hand gently touched his shoulder and as he opened his eyes he saw the beautiful face that drove him to what his old self would consider madness. as she opened her mouth to speak he deftly jumped around her and disappeared into the trees where his companion was waiting. The wolf was grinning showing it's abnormaly sized fangs and the ranger glanced away saying, "Well I met her, happy now?" Almost on queue the gentle sounds of the morning was disturbed by a chorus of armor grinding aginst wood. With a start the ranger was off but his mind and heart couldn't leave the clearing.


Man chooses a red wolf over a beautiful young woman? confirmed furry.
#22 Nov 29 2010 at 5:08 AM Rating: Default
18 posts
This is a story about a woman's reflections :

"She sat by the side of the ravine. Her legs were stretched before her although her arms were folded to protect herself from the crisp chill of the December wind. It was a beautiful day, with clear skies and just cold enough to invigorate one's soul. She loved the way the wind made goose bumps appear on her arms and legs. She felt alive. This day was almost enough to make her feel complete. But gazing upon the ravine was a blatant reminder of the emptiness she felt. The worn edges and muddy waters echoed through her mind memories of days past. And with those memories came the longing.

She wasn't ever able to fully understand why she felt the longing. She could never fully understand why she didn't feel complete. She seemingly had it all -- a good job, lots of friends, a quaint cottage on the top of the hill. Those who knew her envied what she seemed to possess – a strength and a confidence that was almost intimidating. Many couldn't stare too long into her deep, dark eyes. The darkness brought upon them a chill much like the cold December air. It was as though her eyes went beyond her soul and into a large abyss filled with strange, bittersweet thoughts and a sadness that bordered on beauty. There was a secret within her that even she didn't know existed.

On this airy afternoon, she had returned to the place where she first felt the longing many years ago. It came upon her as a young girl, only thirteen, still young enough to be a child and yet old enough to feel the stirrings of the years to come. She always knew she was different from the others. She always knew her path would be broken and jaded and it wouldn't follow the road. Somewhere along that path would be another ravine, much like the one she sat before on this day.

The memories came upon her in a rush that almost made her dizzy. She could hear the laughter and voices of the other children around her. She could feel the old fear coming back to haunt her. It made her acutely aware of her self consciousness and the distance between her and the others. It was an old, faded pain that had been covered up by many years of distractions and passing time.

The ravine was filled with water then and the children referred to it as "the creek." The creek had seemed larger, longer and deeper as a child. As with many childhood landmarks, the place seemed so much smaller and less frightening now. The creek often flooded after a storm and this was the time when most would come out of their homes to enjoy the wet freshness after a hard summer rain. She loved to watch the waters swiftly rush past her and the idea of possibly falling in and being dragged along the current was uplifting. Despite their mother's warnings and pleas, the children often came to the creek to play.

The game was simply called "leap." No one knew who was the first to coin the phrase and no one knew exactly how the game came about to exist. It was a simple game in which the children would stand a few feet back from the creek, break into a starting run and then leap over the threatening waters to the other side.

Despite the coaxing of the others, she never played. Despite the other's success, she never leaped. She sat and she watched. But she never leaped.

Her legs weren't as strong as the others, her legs weren't as long. She was afraid if she leaped she wouldn't make it to the other side and would end up engulfed in a cesspool of questionable waters and hard, ugly cement. She longed to be like the others but she couldn't do it. She couldn't leap.

It was her thirteenth year when she first remembered seeing his face. It came to her from across the ravine and it came to her in her sleep. He was a young boy, with light hair and big inviting eyes. His smile was meant for her and her alone. He was there in her past and he was there in her future. He simply wasn't in her present.

She would often daydream and make up stories about his life. He was a mysterious little boy who lived across the creek. He was different from the others but she wasn't sure why. He had a big family unlike her own and she wanted to be part of it. He would hold her hand and she walked along the edge of the ravine. He would wave to her from across the darkness. He beckoned to her but she was afraid. She knew to get to him she would have to leap.

As the years went by his face would often fade but his spirit was always there. When times were low she would shut her eyes and love a man she had yet to meet. She would comfort herself with knowing that he was out there somewhere. She loved him deeply. She knew he would be there to catch her if she leaped.

And now, as she sat along the banks in the frosty wind, his face appeared to her again. She was much older now and much wiser. She knew her legs were strong enough and long enough to make the leap. She wanted to reach her hands out and touch him. She wanted to be with him. Still, she was afraid.

For the first time in her entire life, he spoke. His voice was warm and gentle, easy and smooth. His voice floated like musical wind chimes tinkling across the waters. His laugh was contagious. He sounded different from the others who had moved away and no longer came to play at the ravine. He was from the other side of the creek. His legs were strong and long enough to make the leap. But he didn't have to leap because he was already there.

His words came to her that cold December day like a whisper in the wind.

"I am here for you. I have been waiting. I have always been with you, although at times you have chosen not to know it. The time has come for you to make a decision. You must leave behind the grassy comfort of your bank. You must stand tall and proud. You must come to me for here I am. I will become your reality. You have waited many years. Now the time has come. The time has come for us to be together. But first, you must do something for yourself. Do not be afraid. I will catch you. You must leap."

She listened to his words and she stared into his big, soft eyes. Never before had his vision been clearer. Never before had she seen so clearly his face. He was what she always pictured and yet he looked completely different. He was her opposite and he was her soul mate. He was all she wasn't and yet he was all she was. He held out his hand to her from across the ravine. He beckoned for her to come to him.

The waters were still and the air was filled with silence. Those who leaped before her were gone. There was nothing behind her except all the years of longing.

Suddenly, his face was gone. He vanished again as he did throughout the years as reality rushed in and stole him away from her. He was nothing but a dream, a fabrication, a fantasy in her mind. She didn't deserve the love he had to offer although she loved him so intensely it chipped away at her spirit. But she had the longing and no one could take that away from her. Her longing for him was her gift to him.

She rose and stood by the bank of the ravine and stared across it for a long, long time. She thought about his light hair, his eyes, his smile and his face. The ravine widened from a creek to a river to an ocean that seemed several thousand miles wide. He was farther and farther away. He was disappearing fast. She must leap now or he will be gone forever. The time had come to act upon the longing.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She thought about her job, her friends and her house. She thought about the familiarity and comfort of these things that surrounded her. She thought about the world he lived in and how it was so different from hers. She thought about whether or not she could become a part of his world. She thought about living on the other side of the bank.

She took a few steps back and she stretched her arms before her. She could feel his touch and his warmth. His fingertips were almost touching hers. They were only a leap away and she would be in his arms. Forever.

In her mind, she never looked back at the other children. After many years of pain and frustration, she opened up her heart and soul. She gave him her trust.

She leaped. "
#23 Nov 29 2010 at 5:44 AM Rating: Decent
**
405 posts
Equal wrote:
This is a true story spoken in a story line instead.
<story>
A young kobold by the name of Equal was born, he was born into a world of dangers. This young kobold would soon find him self to be a Hunter of the Magnificent Realm of Midgard. He would strap on his bow and his expert crafted special arrows and venture out and kill what eer was in his way.

He eventually became a 50th season hunter, ready to undertake the mission of defending midgard from the opposing realms Albion and Hibernia.. this should prove to be a good choice as he was one of the few who captured a relic.
On a cold winter morning in yggdra forest Equal was roaming around the snow looking for his prey.
he was a masterful tracker and could see alot of signs of people who had passed through his area. he saw corpses everywhere , both midgardians and albion corpses.. and in the middle of it all floating just above the ground , a magical Scabbard was hovering.. Equal decided to study it further and soon found out that this scabbard was infact the Scabbard of Excalibur.. the beloved artifact of Albion that proves their strength and fortitude. It would be a great victory if midgard could claim this relic. Equal saw no other choice that to leave his fellow midgarians behind and grap the relic and head towards Uppland where the Scabbard of Excalibur was to be joined with thors hammer.
Soon after taking the relic equal was hunted by all and every assassin from the realm of albion. but lucky for equal he knew the terrain and all the little shortcuts there was from yggdra to uppland.

Equal wanted to do it safe , but at the same time he knew that for every minute that passed he would grown weaker in the presence of the albion artifact , and Rogues and Nightshades were lurking around every corner of the woods.
But at last he finally made it to the mountain just accross Mjolnir Faste , where he was supposed to deliver the scabbard. but an army of albions is blocking all entrances to the door. he calls upon his friends to come of with a distraction for the albions outside mjolnir faste. it was a quick battle and many midgardians died, but the managed to draw the albions far enough away from the gate to that Equal Windfader could runup to the doors and walk up to the Relic lord and passover the relic and empower the entire realm of midgard with the strength and constitution of Albions powerful relic.

And a hunter who was an unknow lurker would now become famous and a Hero of the realm.

</story>

if someone missed the conclussion or meaning of this story , it is very simple someone had captured a relic , they met a force they couldnt beat , they dropped the relic behind a tree.. i stumbled upon it by random and took it ran to the relic keep asked for a diversion and ran up and was the hero for 2 weeks while we had the relic :)

Edited, Nov 27th 2010 3:01pm by Equal


Aside from my masterpiece this is def one of the best. Gets my presidential stamp of approval.
#24 Nov 29 2010 at 5:57 AM Rating: Decent
18 posts
And a fantasy story about a knight and a Dragon:

"Legends have it that Dragons are large, fierce creatures, covered in scales and breathing fire through their mouths or nostrils. Unfortunately, legends - like fishers' tales - have a habit of growing longer with every retelling and both the size and weaponry of Dragons seem to increase with the passage of time.

The Beast had all the outward appearances of a Dragon - smooth, shining scales; long reptilian neck and head; talons that looked capable of slicing wood without ever noticing the obstruction. Its size, however, came as a shock, for the Beast was barely one-and-a-half meters in height. It stood on its hind legs, tail against the ground to provide balance in this - for it - precarious position. On its back was a pack of old rags, emitting a stench of carrion so thick it made the Human's head spin.

"Ho!" cried the Man, readying his sword. "Prepare to meet thy doom, O Foul Fiend!" The Dragon looked around and, with a surprised look on its snout, placed a taloned hand delicately on its chest as if saying "Moi?"

"Ay, thee - O Malodorant Mutt! Long have I sought you to rid this place of your stench, thou Fetid Forager!" With a flourish of light, the Warrior prepared to swing his sword.

"I say," spoke the Dragon, "that's a rather nasty turn of speech for people who have just met, is it not?"

"Do not attempt to sway me, thou... er... thou..." the Human floundered.

"Putrid Pilferer?" helpfully provided the Dragon.

"That's rather good, yes... Thou Putrid Pilferer! Limb from limb will I rend thee and... and... That smell is rather strong, isn't it?" the Human asked, wrinkling his nose. "What have you got in there?"

"Fertiliser," answered the Dragon.

"Fertiliser? What for?"

"My salads. I'm afraid they do not grow well if left to themselves and do, sometimes, require a helping hand from the manure department." The Dragon dropped its pack in front of the puzzled Human and went on to open the flaps. There, in the pack's recesses, were several pounds of horse manure. "Top quality. Arabian stallions. You won't get this from just any village store, you know."

"But... Salad?" The Human was almost whimpering.

"Has nobody told you? Dragons are herbivores. We eat plants. I personally fancy myself as able to make a smashing Caesar's Salad."

"Herbivores?" The voice was now quite definitely whimpering. "But aren't you supposed to eat virgins or something? And lay waste to entire villages?"

"Rumours. Superstitions. All of them started by warriors who have had a close encounter with one of my kind. I mean, what do you say when you come home from a day of slaying Dragon? 'It barely came up to my chest, weighed less than I and mightily did I slaughter this defenceless beast'? No... You make up tales of a large, ferocious beast able to rip your head with a single bite. Sounds better in the memoirs."

"But what about me? What'll I do now?"

The Dragon looked at the Human critically. "Hmm. You look as though you have seen better days. When did you last eat? Never mind," the Dragon continued before the Human could answer. "Let me invite you home. For dinner."

The Human took a step back. "'For dinner'? 'As dinner' you mean."

"Had I wanted you as the first course for my later repast I would have said so plainly," sighed the Dragon. "I assure you I have no wish to eat you - the idea is as revolting to me as I am sure it is to you." Picking up its pack, the Dragon turned towards the hills. "Well?"

The Human looked at his sword, then at the Dragon. Finally he shrugged, sheathed his weapon and followed the Beast down the path.

The Dragon's home was bright and airy, completely different from what the Human would have imagined it to be. Instead of jagged rocks, walls of lightly coloured plaster rose to an embossed ceiling. Instead of the darkness of a gloomy cave, veins of crystals were filtering sunlight through the rocks themselves to the lair. Instead of the cold and dampness of a cave, this home was warm and dry. "Central heating," stated the Dragon. "Does wonders for my arthritis, you know."

"This is not like anything I would have expected," admitted the Human.

"You were perhaps expecting dungeons, littered bones, damsels in distress... or that dress?" The Dragon chuckled. "No. I'm afraid we are a very secular and solitary breed, we Dragons. It is not often we invite others into our homes. Even for dinner." Holding its pack in one claw, the Beast ambled down the corridor and into a large, well-decorated room.

Setting its pack near a smoked-glass door, the Dragon picked up a bone-china tea set, put it on a tray and rummaged through the varnished pantry for a second. Finally, it held up a packet of biscuits triumphantly and, placing it on the tray, returned to the centre of the room with its booty. Setting out the service, the Dragon continued to talk. "As you can see, I like my comforts. We have the library over here... And this is the smoking room - I would not go in there if I were you; bad for your lungs... The kitchen... And over there," it said, pointing to the door next to which lay the pack, "is the Hothouse."

"Where your plants are?" enquired the Human.

"Yes. I grow all of my food. It is healthier that way, you understand."

"May I see it? Your Hothouse I mean."

"Most certainly. And I will prepare the kitchen for dinner while you are inside."

The Dragon opened the glassed door and allowed the Human through, closing it behind him. It looked at the handle for a moment, then shook its serpentine head and moved to the kitchen.

Dragging a few pots and pans down from their resting place, the Dragon went on to prepare the salad dressing. It kept clanging the metal spoon loudly against the copper surface of the mixing bowl, trying not to listen to the screams that suddenly emerged from the Hothouse. For while the Dragon may have been vegetarian, its dinner definitely was not." :)
#25 Nov 29 2010 at 11:58 AM Rating: Excellent
Inkie in Disguise
*
239 posts
abrax73 wrote:
And a fantasy story about a knight and a Dragon:

"Legends have it that Dragons are large, fierce creatures, covered in scales and breathing fire through their mouths or nostrils..."



This is one of my favorite short tales on the topic of dragons. "OF DRAGONS AND TEA: A Comedy In One Fit (and a giggle)" by Aubry Thonon. Credit where credit is due. Smiley: dubious
____________________________
Creepy Girl Extraordinaire
#26 Nov 29 2010 at 12:29 PM Rating: Decent
**
405 posts
Kaasha wrote:
abrax73 wrote:
And a fantasy story about a knight and a Dragon:

"Legends have it that Dragons are large, fierce creatures, covered in scales and breathing fire through their mouths or nostrils..."



This is one of my favorite short tales on the topic of dragons. "OF DRAGONS AND TEA: A Comedy In One Fit (and a giggle)" by Aubry Thonon. Credit where credit is due. Smiley: dubious


So your saying we have another copypaster?! This must be coppertone's alt.
#27 Nov 29 2010 at 12:32 PM Rating: Decent
*
155 posts
Kaasha wrote:
abrax73 wrote:
And a fantasy story about a knight and a Dragon:

"Legends have it that Dragons are large, fierce creatures, covered in scales and breathing fire through their mouths or nostrils..."



This is one of my favorite short tales on the topic of dragons. "OF DRAGONS AND TEA: A Comedy In One Fit (and a giggle)" by Aubry Thonon. Credit where credit is due. Smiley: dubious


He tried to pull a Coppertone OFF WITH HIS HEAD! Okay maybe not off with it, but a good smack or two...
____________________________
_______________________________________
Hikaru Najumi - Paragon Reaver ?

Sider Kilans - Archon Warlock ?

Jarion Evarmir - Warlock Necro ?
#28 Nov 29 2010 at 12:46 PM Rating: Excellent
Inkie in Disguise
*
239 posts
abrax73 wrote:
This is a story about a woman's reflections :

"She sat by the side of the ravine. Her legs were stretched before her although her arms were folded to protect herself from the crisp chill of the December wind..."



This is a touching story dedicated to "Someone Special" written by Zahee Mohamed. Again, credit where credit is due. Smiley: dubious
____________________________
Creepy Girl Extraordinaire
#29 Nov 29 2010 at 12:52 PM Rating: Good
**
405 posts
Kaasha wrote:
abrax73 wrote:
This is a story about a woman's reflections :

"She sat by the side of the ravine. Her legs were stretched before her although her arms were folded to protect herself from the crisp chill of the December wind..."



This is a touching story dedicated to "Someone Special" written by Zahee Mohamed. Again, credit where credit is due. Smiley: dubious


AHAHAHAHAHAHA What is with all the coppertones!? We as a community need to crack down on these cheats and scammers.

/cheer Kaasha!
#30 Nov 29 2010 at 1:15 PM Rating: Good
*
155 posts
LOL its the same guy for both stories. WAY TO GO COPPERTONE 2.0 ABRAX!
____________________________
_______________________________________
Hikaru Najumi - Paragon Reaver ?

Sider Kilans - Archon Warlock ?

Jarion Evarmir - Warlock Necro ?
#31 Nov 29 2010 at 1:32 PM Rating: Default
*
102 posts
wow no youtube videos? i was hoping to see some LARPin action
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_ekugPKqFw

____________________________

undecided
#32 Nov 29 2010 at 1:35 PM Rating: Decent
*
155 posts
The Swift Darkness


Prologue


Time: 5:09 pm

Freemarch forest, five miles from the Lake of Solace.

The soft crunch of leaves under foot was the only sound that echoed in the approaching darkness. The forest was still as night began to fall the only movement was that of the figured shrouded in a black cloak. The figure was slight a wiry build, standing just over five feet tall. The figure moved with a gentle grace barely touching the ground as it speed toward the destination.

A hundred yards away another cloaked figured stepped out of the growing shadows to stand in the path of the onrushing figure. Without slowing the figure jumped into the air and flipped over the new figure, spinning in mid-air it landed facing this new figure in a crouch and a whisper of crunched leaves
"Well done, just what I would expect from someone as trained as you." The new figure said in a deep masculine voice. It reached up and removed the cloaks hood from its head. A face full of hard angles, bright white lines of scares crisscrossed its face. A broad nose and stubble chin, and two piercing blue eyes look straight at the still crouching figure. This was a man who had seen the worst in the world and had come out of it with only a cut.
"You called me here, what was the reason...Lord." The figure said standing slowly. The voice was light and feminine. As she stood her hood fell back to reveal a strikingly young girl. Light auburn hair pulled back into a tight knot, and brilliant green eyes stared coldly at the man. Then last word she has spoken "Lord." had been spat out as if it was an insult. The man how ever did not seem to notice and shrugged it off.
"Now, now Jyssilan you know you would have come even if I had not called you here. This will be the most challenging event of you young life, and you do so love a challenge." The man, Lord Derun Feldrin was the High Lord of a small township to the northwest of the Lake of Solace.
"My Lord, of course you know I love a challenge but as of yet you have yet to provide me a true one. If this one proves to be a worthless as the others I fear I will have to decline further jobs. So make this one count." Jyssilan said with a wry smirk on her face. She has done five jobs for this man in the past all of them he had promised her a challenge and non of them had even been dangerous to her. She was growing tired of the monotony of this mans request. The pay was good but it was the challenged she craved not the money. The money kept her feed and paid for supplies and lodging but she could survive equally well without it.

"So My Lord, what is this job you have for me?"
"This is no regular job there is a very good chance you will die on this one, do you still want to hear?" He know even while he asked what her answer would be.
"I fear not death, lets speed this on I grow weary of waiting." She said in a clipped tone.
"Very well, I need you to steal this." High Lord Derun whispered handing the girl a sketched picture of an object.
"What is it?" the girl asked quizzically staring hard at the sketch in the fading light.
"That my girl is the ancient Tome of the High Gods. It holds all the words ever spoken by any of the gods even to today. It is enchanted so every words they speak is written down inside it. I desire it more than any gold or gems in the land. This book is more heavily guarded that the High King Mathos once was. They know someone will try to steal this, matter of a fact many have and have never lived through the adventure. Will you do this for me, my girl?"

Jyssilan look at the sketch for a few moments more lost deep in thought then a smile broke across her face. This was not a smile many would be happy to see, for it did not reflect joy, it showed a pure animalistic intent on ones prey. She turned that smile of Lord Derun and even he flinched just slightly at it.
"My Lord, you have yourself a deal. I shall steal these ancient scraps of paper for you, but if you dare double cross me on this..." She said in an icy cool tone drawing a very wicked looking dagger all curves and edges,"...it will be your last act."
"Do not threaten me Girl, I have never double crossed you. I should be the one worded about you double crossing me." He spat nearly enraged.
In an instant the girl had closed the five paces between them and the dagger was now aimed at his heart.
"Don't ever question my loyalty again LORD, I never betray an employer unless they do so first. Now lets put this behind this. You will have you book, look for me here in one weeks time. If I am not here, I am dead and your reputation is as safe as if i had succeeded." With those final words she was gone. Speed off into the darkness the shadows swallowing her up as if she had never existed. Before her lay a challenge, a challenge non had ever completed before. The girl smiled to herself at the thought. Little did she know more than just a challenge lay before her, destiny lay in wait as well....
____________________________
_______________________________________
Hikaru Najumi - Paragon Reaver ?

Sider Kilans - Archon Warlock ?

Jarion Evarmir - Warlock Necro ?
#33 Nov 29 2010 at 1:42 PM Rating: Decent
**
405 posts
Please hold, scanning for validity due to influx of copy past bandits.
This thread is locked
You cannot post in a locked topic!
Recent Visitors: 26 All times are in CDT
Anonymous Guests (26)