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Post by Silvia on Jan 10, 2007 21:42:23 GMT -5
Aye, i wonder how he's going to get out of the mud. If you don't know what i'm talking about then you should read it. Anyways, i like your story, keep it up.
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Post by Zorel on Jan 12, 2007 14:07:39 GMT -5
Read my story...mine is longest and most people vote it as the best.
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Post by Silvia on Jan 12, 2007 14:28:06 GMT -5
Hehe, of course they would vote it the best, your the admin. jk Zorel, your story is a. well thought out, and b. grabs and holds the readers attention, and overall it's pretty good.
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Post by Zorel on Jan 14, 2007 10:13:28 GMT -5
Hehe, of course they would vote it the best, your the admin. jk Zorel, your story is a. well thought out, and b. grabs and holds the readers attention, and overall it's pretty good. Thanks. I would work on it, but my compy lost its Microsoft access, so I have to get it back. >_>
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Post by Silvia on Jan 14, 2007 12:17:31 GMT -5
When i got this computer, (my other one decided to fry.), it didn't have have mycrosoft word, so i had my bro put microsoft word 98 on it. But i know it's really annoying to have nothing to write with.
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Post by Ktsed Vereq on Jan 18, 2007 20:00:47 GMT -5
Oh, I know how he gets out of the mud, but I'm going to go back to the Emperialist for a section before I reveal that! Mwa ha ha!
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Post by Ktsed Vereq on Jan 18, 2007 20:11:20 GMT -5
Don't worry, the next chapter, though not done yet, will reveal all. I feel like I have so much power!
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Post by Silvia on Jan 19, 2007 19:20:37 GMT -5
the writer holds power over the reader, because he/she's making the story and usually they know what is going to happen while the reader doesn't, and if they are good enough, they can hook a reader. Yet, the reader has power over the writer, because if there isn't any readers, the writer doesn't hold anything over the reader because he has no one to tell his/her tale. (if i don't make sense, sorry i'm feeling tired.)
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Post by Xavier on Feb 9, 2007 8:04:04 GMT -5
Wow that is pretty cool
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Post by Zorel on Feb 9, 2007 8:40:57 GMT -5
Make sure you read my ridiculously long one...its the best...but only because its actually long and its developed more.
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Post by Xavier on Feb 15, 2007 20:01:49 GMT -5
I did Zorel, I did
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Post by Ktsed Vereq on Mar 3, 2007 13:36:34 GMT -5
It's been a while since I've been on, hasn't it? It must be since I have almost two chapters to post
The Emperialist was sure that the battle was on its last leg. The Nardelians had collapsed into a circle of soldiers just a couple hundred yards across. As small as this distance was, it was still impossible to see even halfway across the tightly packed, rapidly shrinking rabble with the weather the way it was. The Emperials were attacking the Nardelians from all sides, giving even those who surrendered no chance to escape. The rain had washed away most of the dirt on the plain where the battle was taking place, leaving nothing but a series of treacherous stepping stones about two feet apart amid rivers of blood and mud. Some were so sharp that men had died by simply slipping and impaling themselves. Others had fallen into the mucky, dark red liquid and drown. The Emperialist had fought many battles in many lands but this setting was unique to him. He found it rather refreshing after countless battles on nothing but flat land. He and Hahsh were at the inner edge of the Emperial’s circle, leading a large number of Alonovians farther and farther into the mass of Nardelians. He jumped from one stepping stone to another, completely skipping the one in between. The jump landed him right next to a number of Nardelian Infantry. He raised his sword to block a blow from the closest one, sliding his sword down the man’s short blade and through the soldier’s armor, slipping it through the man’s ribs and directly into the heart of his victim. He pulled the blade out, taking satisfaction from the sickening sound it made, and swung it in a wide horizontal arch, slitting the throats of two and sticking it into the skull of a third. He couldn’t pull the blade out. A Nardelian champion approached him, laughing at the Emperialist’s misfortune. He was a monstrosity of a man, walking the steps two at a time, and at least seven feet tall. He left his chest, head, and neck exposed as a challenge to all of his enemies, a challenge that none had taken advantage of. He carried a huge, blood soaked ax. The man raised his ax over his large, bald head with an ugly, primitive face. He swung it with a force that could probably rend most stones in two. The Emperialist almost laughed at his impossible situation.
Is this what death feels like? If so, I’m going to have a hard time “living” through eternity like this... Narm had been under the mud for about a minute, and was almost positive he was dead. He couldn’t feel anything, and couldn’t think clearly. He felt himself slipping away. Not now. If I die here, the Thaiau line will end. He almost struggled again, but stopped himself, remembering all of the good it had done the last two times. He relaxed himself and prepared for the inevitable, which was easier than he expected. His parents were dead. His brothers were dead. They were all that had ever mattered. It would probably be easier to just die here than go on in this meaningless existence he called living... It’s not going to be that easy. You’re not going to escape everything this easily. He wasn’t sure where the thought came from, and he figured he would most likely spend his last moments pondering it. Then it hit. The pain. It had been there all along, but not prominent enough to be noticed. The mud had reached his throat, and was expanding it to previously unexplored dimensions. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t get any air past the blockage. He started to fear that his last moments would be pure agony. Suddenly, he felt a huge pressure on his back, pushing him down faster than anything else had. He felt the pain increase tenfold as the mud was pushed farther and farther into his throat. Just before he lost consciousness for what would most likely be the last time, he thought back: “It’s not going to be that easy. You’re not going to escape everything this easily.” I almost wish that was true. Then, if it was possible, everything went even darker.
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN
The Emperialist had to think quick. The champion was about to land the blow and he was exposed, there was no way he would survive it if he didn’t do something. He got an idea. He raised the body of the head in which his sword was stuck into the path of the ax. He jumped to the side and, with his left hand, jabbed his dagger right in between the startled champion’s eyes. The champion’s blow still connected with the corpse, though, and it jarred the sword from the cranium of the unfortunate soldier. He grabbed his dagger from the late champion’s face and looked up at the dwindling Nardelian army. There couldn’t be more than a few hundred left by now, and there were probably ten thousand Emperials. They couldn’t hold on for more than another hour. The Emperialist suddenly found himself surrounded by seven Nardelian officers that had obviously sneaked up around him during his battle with the champion. The tallest one spoke: “It seems a dim-witted animal has sprung our trap! During your death, keep in mind the entire time that it was all your doing, and look upon the sight of your army’s defeat!” The officer was much bolder than the Emperialist expected a man would be when his army was outnumbered nearly a hundred to one. “Defeat!? Even if I fell here, my army could win against a host ten times the size of yours! It really is a shame that your army won’t have that advantage during this slaughter,” the Emperialist barely got the words out of his mouth when he pounced on the nearest Nardelian; having no time to draw his sword, he simply grabbed the man’s sword and twisted around into its owner’s chest, knocking him into the muck below. The other officers adjusted their position to surround him again. He had no chance of besting six of Nardel’s best without the element of surprise. He slowly unsheathed his sword. “Do you wish to surrender?” the one who had spoken before mocked. He held a long sword, just as his allies did. “I would never surrender when I have no chance of losing,” the Emperialist growled, sounding just as much animal as human. The man simply laughed. “Good thing you didn't surrender, because we would’ve just killed you anyway.” At a hand signal from their leader, the six jumped forward. The Emperialist let loose a feral roar and leapt towards the nearest Nardelian.
Just so you know, this isn't the end of the chapter...
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Post by Ktsed Vereq on Mar 3, 2007 13:58:11 GMT -5
The rest of this chapter will reveal what happens to Narm. The next chapter will easily be the most epic: I'm killing off one of the most awesome (and only V_V) characters, and there will be a huge plot-twist. Think of it as the actual begining of the story, the rest is just setting up for it...
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Post by Zorel on Mar 3, 2007 17:18:23 GMT -5
Very nice my friend.
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Post by Ktsed Vereq on Mar 19, 2007 20:16:34 GMT -5
Not much time... not everything is in this chapter, but it seemed more epic this way...
The man jumped from stone to stone, and ran as fast as he could when he couldn’t reach the next stone. This wasn’t the first time the man had been in the Badlands, and he had learned to run across the mud. He was trying to reach the battle, but he wasn’t sure of his position, seeing as the storm limited visibility to a few feet. He muttered a curse as he slipped from one stone and barely landed on another. He looked up again for any landmark he might recognize, but there was nothing. He was startled as the stone beneath him started to shift, and vacated the unsteady surface for the previous stone. He glanced back at the oddly shaped stone, wondering what to do next as the black sky got darker and the rain fell even more heavily. A gust of wind nearly blew him off of the stone, solidifying his decision to find cover immediately. He glanced in both directions, but could find nothing as the weather lowered his field of vision further. The man was about to head off where he had come from, back to a cave he had spotted not to far back, when he saw the stone shift all on its own.
END OF CHAPTER EIGHT
Narm was amazed that he was still alive. The pressure had relieved just after he had started sinking, but the pain was still unbearable, he wished he could just die and get it over with. Suddenly the pressure seemed odd to him. What could have caused it? Sediment? He doubted it. He used the last off his strength to shift a little in the mud, but not nearly enough for anyone to notice. As he started to pass into the next world, he felt an upwards pulling, and stayed awake from sheer willpower. Who or whatever was pulling him up was remarkably strong, for it lifted him above the mud before he died of suffocation when it would have taken any normal man more time than Narm had. Narm actually felt himself pulled above the mud just before the oxygen deprivation caused him to black out, his saving grace most likely not more than a few seconds too late to revive him in time.
The Emperialist knocked the sword from the Nardelian’s grasp with his left hand, stabbing the man’s heart with his blade. “If all of you are as inept as this fool, then I may not get the challenge I was hoping for!” He was, of course, bluffing, for he most likely couldn’t survive against the five of them at once even if they were as easily defeated as this man, which he doubted, but the lie served its purpose, and several of the Nardelians hesitated, but not their leader, he attacked with redoubled effort. The Emperialist was amazed by the man’s strength, previously thinking that none of the barbarians were capable of something as perfect as this man’s first strike. The Emperialist, though entranced by the man’s skill, slid the blade off of his own, and jabbed at the man’s torso, but he jumped back a stone and dodged it. The other officers grew nearer, and two stabbed at him at once, but he had no where to jump to to dodge either one, and as if to seal his doom, his dagger was inexplicably missing. The Emperialist wasn’t going to die this easy. He reached behind him and twisted the sword from one of the officer’s hand, and he locked swords with the other man as he brought the Nardelian’s sword up in his cut left hand to block an officer’s stroke from his right. Stuck in an awkward position, he was defenseless when the man behind him stabbed him in his back with his dagger, narrowly missing his heart, but the man never had a chance to remove the dagger, for he was drowning in the muck before he could react to the Emperialist’s swift kick to a cluster of nerves in his leg. A third man took his late ally’s position behind the Emperialist as his leader leapt to the Emperialist’s left. The man behind the Emperialist attacked him with a horizontal slash, but the Emperialist ducked, dodging the attempt at his life, while sliding the two Nardelians’ blades off of his. He jabbed at the man to his right’s legs, but the man caught the Emperialist’s face as he fell to his death. The momentum of the blow sent the Emperialist falling into the Nardelians’ leader to his left. He knocked the man over as he grabbed his legs, but the other two Nardelians stabbed at him, their swords piercing his armor and driving into his flesh as he struggled with the leader for an advantage. The Nardelian managed to get out from under the Emperialist and rolled onto a nearby stone. The Nardelians drew back to swords in preparation to finish off the job they had started off inefficiently for fear of harming their leader. Narm leaped up, dismayed to find he had lost both of his swords, and the Nardelian leader still had his. He leaped to the left as both Nardelians stabbed at him at once. He twisted the nearest’s sword arm past the breaking point and relieved him of his sword, which he then used to impale the man. He was caught off guard as the second Nardelian, having taken advantage of the distraction and moved behind him, hit him with a powerful slash that knocked him off of his feet. He twisted around on the ground and gutted the Nardelian before he could finish him off. The Nardelian leader was suddenly above him, and easily ripped his sword from his grasp. He knelt over him and unsheathed his blade mockingly. “Are you still so confident? My only regret about this is that you won’t be able to see your crushing defeat.” The Nardelian savored every moment before he slit the Emperialist’s throat.
END OF CHAPTER NINE
The man looked at the poor soul he had found buried under the mud. It was probably too late for him, but at least his body would be noted. The wind and driving rain started to wash the mud off of his face and body, to reveal a young man in Nardelian armor. He probably deserted and met a fate he deserved, but then again, he might have been trying to deliver a message to someone. The man doubted it, and found comfort in the fact that everything pointed to him being a useless coward. He decided to carry the body with him, just in case he was some important officer he didn’t recognize or had a legitimate reason to be away from the battle. He slung it over his shoulder, just before a slight let up in the rain granted him the vision he was praying for. He set off toward the battle.
Hahsh killed another group of soldiers. He found it odd they fought on, when they had no chance of winning. It was almost humorous how they had seemed to gain hope and vigor a few minutes ago at the short blaring of a trumpet in the distance. It was quickly silenced by the overeager Alonovian archers, who hadn’t had a clear target for several hours after the battle had collapsed. An exceptionally tall soldier roared him a challenge, and dashed towards him. Hahsh let loose a quick burst of black lightning to end his pathetic existence. Hahsh looked over to his right and saw an area that, due to its being almost completely surrounded by stones at an untraversable distance, was devoid of soldiers. He almost didn’t notice the two struggling figures on the ground being watched over by two standing figures. He got closer for a better look. Three of the men were Nardelian, the two standing were hesitantly stabbing at the fourth figure, which chilled Hahsh to the bone. He had to rescue him. He looked forward, but the next stone was at least ten feet away. He couldn’t clear the distance. He started to run the distance around, when he noticed the only traversable area was deep behind Nardelian lines. It would be nearly impossible to make it past the Nardelians in time, but he had to. He dashed forward and threw a Nardelian into the mud, and stabbed his companion with a short knife he carried. He sheathed the blade and let loose a string of black lightning that stole the life from five men between him and his destination. He noted with less than dismay that one of them was Alonovian. His death was more than worth it. He was suddenly surrounded by ten Nardelian officers. One of them stepped forward “We’ve been waiting for you...” the man had more to say, but never got the chance, for his last action was to dive suddenly into the mud as he seemed to spontaneously combust. Five Nardelians dove at Hahsh at once. He held his palm out and an explosion engulfed the first two. The other three, not disheartened, stabbed at him with their swords. He was on the outer edge of the circle that had engulfed him before any steel touched him. He stabbed the nearest officer in the spine with his knife. The Nardelians shifted in effort to trap him again, but two of them, inexplicably blinded, simply stepped into the mud and drowned. The remaining four were startled, but still didn’t hesitate. Before they had a chance to attack Hahsh, though, one of them turned his blade on his ally and then himself, leaving only two left. They approached him cautiously. Hahsh looked them over, and then he said: “Throw down your blades and take up the Alonovian coat and I’ll let you live.” The Nardelians didn’t even hesitate. They threw themselves at Hahsh, blades swinging before them. Hahsh easily dodged the swift men. A clot of mud rose to the face of the nearest Nardelian seemingly on its own; if covered his face, and he fell down to the ground, where he would scratch at it for several minutes of pure agony before suffocating. The last Nardelian officer looked at his struggling friend, then, looking at Hahsh, muttered a curse and seemed to just have the life drained out of him. Hahsh dashed to his commanding officer. The Nardelian was kneeling over the Emperialist, and was about to slit his throat. Hahsh raised his hand and screamed. The Nardelian looked up just in time to see a gust of black wind blow him off of the Emperialist and severe his soul from his body. Hahsh rushed over to the Emperialist. He had numerous cuts and scrapes, and though he probably wouldn’t be able to finish the battle, he would be able to live on unhampered by his injuries. The Emperialist stood up. “Hahsh! I knew I could count on you! Recruiting you was the best decision I ever made. I’ll insure that you get a promotion for this!” the Emperialist was as close to happy as Hahsh had ever seen him. Hahsh merely laughed. “I couldn’t let you die with the debt I owe you, now could I?” the “debt” Hahsh spoke of was not in gold or any other currency. The Emperialist had allowed him to join the soldiers under his command when no others in Alonov would allow him. He owed his entire military career to him. If it wasn’t for him, Hahsh may not be more than a beggar at this instant, rather than personal guard and aide to one of the most powerful men in the most powerful nation of men. He wouldn’t have this war to prove his worth to those above him. If it wasn’t for the Emperialist, Hahsh’s plan wouldn’t be going perfectly. He gave the Emperialist one of his almost nonexistent smiles. “I’ve already told you, I thought you would strengthen my army. I did none a favor, other than maybe myself, by recruiting you,” the Emperialist was trying his best at humility, though pride was one of the few emotions he seemed to feel. He removed a dagger from his back. “Now let’s get back to the Alonovian ranks, where I can command our soldiers from relative safety until I regain myself,” the Emperialist was obviously weak from loss of blood, and Hahsh could see that it pained him to have to abandon his troops on the front line once, let alone twice in one battle. “I’m afraid I can’t comply to your task,” Hahsh said, almost feeling remorse for a second, but before any normal man could feel it coming on, he remembered that he felt nothing for the man. He put a look of pity on his face. “You will be free to participate in the battle once you assist me to the Alonovian ranks, if that’s what you mean, though I would prefer to have your wisdom by my side for this battle,” the Emperialist started to hobble towards the only area of traversable stones in the ring that encircled them. Hahsh had never seen the Emperialist like this. The tall man was in his late thirties, the youngest of any high-ranking Emperialist, but his youth had not seemed to leave him and he was half again as strong and fast as many half his age. He was truly a remarkable man. Seeing him like this almost made Hahsh’s long forgotten and suppressed emotions come back. Almost. Hahsh unsheathed his knife, preparing to fight his way through the Nardelians. “I’m afraid that’s not what I’m talking about,” Hahsh looked at the confusion on the man’s face, savoring his ignorance. He began to realize how enjoyable this would be, even if the Emperialist was the one Hahsh had come nearest having any respect or care for. He began walking towards the once-great warrior. “What are you speaking of, Hahsh? Is there some complication I’m not aware of?” the Emperialist was still appeared to be completely in the dark, but Hahsh knew he had already worked it all out in his mind, but just refused to believe that the closest thing he had to a son would do this. “You have no clue, sir,” Hahsh took a few more steps nearer. The old rush that could only be gained by betraying those that least expected it began to rush through him. He lifted his knife. The Emperialist unsheathed his sword, in a perfect stance regardless of his wounds. “Answer me one question: If you just meant to betray me, then why did you rescue me?” “I wanted to see the look on your face when you realized it! It is the best thing I can imagine, the look of one who has been attacked by the least expected source!” he took another few steps until he was next to the man. The Emperialist swung his sword with almost unhampered agility and strength. Hahsh was behind him before he had a chance to react. Hahsh stabbed him in the heart and kicked the inside of his legs, bringing him down to his knees. He pulled the man’s head back by the hair and stared into his eyes. They were filled with shock for a few seconds, but it then switched to defiance. In his death, he meant to deny Hahsh as much of the pleasure of his shock as he could. The look became forever frozen on his face as he muttered his last sentence: “You will be betrayed, Hahsh, and when you are, I’ll be the gleam of the traitor’s eyes.”
END OF CHAPTER TEN
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