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 story - not poetry

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Nataku
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PostSubject: story - not poetry   Wed Oct 29, 2008 10:01 am

He sat underneith a tree. He was manicaled to the trunk behind. It didnt bother him too much, he liked it a little bit. It meant they feared him, and why shouldnt they? So he sat under the tree, arms crossed and head down, eyes closed, hair hanging, covering his face. He relaxed in the shade, feeling the heat from the sunlight not far away, and a light breeze... listening to the goings on of the world. He dozed, what else was there to really do?

He heard footsteps comming, comming within ten feet of him.

"And who has come seeking me now?"

They stopped, "Its just me..." ah, he knew that voice.

"Of course it is, and to what do i owe your visit?" he said, still not looking up.

"I have brought water...."

*sniffs* "And some bread it smells like. Good that they still will feed me sometime."

"Listen, I..."

He lifted his head up, fliped his hair to the side, and let his emerald eyes show just a bit, "Thank you for the food." Then went back to his normal stance.

And he was alone again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was standing there. Just standing there with his arms crossed, facing a dead end. To both his sides were dark ones. In front of him was Her.

He had turned.

She was his prey.

The 'assistants' really went nescisary, they just 'came with the job'. They stood there gawking at her, about to finaly end one major pest.

Then she sighed and lowered her gaze to their feet, lowering her head... and started reciting:

"When the shadows come to claim our souls,"

He closed his eyes, breathed in a bit, and fillied in
"One must rise the light of old,"

The assistants snickered, they were saying their farewells, they had had a past together after all, even the dark respected that. They would let him strike, let him end her miserable life. He would be the final nail in her coffin.

"Names in stone, Spirits of legend,"

"Deeds unknown, yet never forgotten,"

"These are the Duranin! Of honor within, and of fear without,"

"Remember them when in Hope you doubt."

She kept her head down, and tilted her head to her right, now her neck was exposed.

He opened his eyes, unscabbared his sword, and likewise tilted his head to his right.

The assistants were giddy, glaring at her as to not miss a drop of blood. It was time to finish it. Here it came.

They were still smiling when they died. He struck to his right, and she did to hers. They hadnt even seen her draw a blade.

They turned to eachother, then walked off, there was much to be done after all!



Did he really turn those months before? Was he really that black, and it took Her to purify his soul again?
Or was this all planned?
Only they, to this day, know.
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TwilightInsanity
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PostSubject: Re: story - not poetry   Wed Oct 29, 2008 10:12 am

chilling. you make me want more. how much have you finished so far, is that it? or wa sit just a sample?
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Nataku
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PostSubject: Re: story - not poetry   Wed Oct 29, 2008 7:09 pm

truthfuly this is all, just these two. just two scnarios that were in my mind. i could make more i suppose.
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PostSubject: Re: story - not poetry   Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:24 am

i want to read the finished story copmpletely after having tasted those two little pieces... my storywriting is quite ameteur.... heh.
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Nataku
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PostSubject: Re: story - not poetry   Fri Oct 31, 2008 9:33 pm

Dark Spark

He was mad.
He was sad
He didnt know how he felt, he just couldnt be around... he needed to kill something... to be in that mindset and forget all of it... to be himself again....
So he was running at them. Running at a warcamp of The Great Enemy, the few scouts along the way were but a tiviality.

He came into their view in a whirlwind. He was close enough to them they did not get much time to react. Unlike what so many expected, he let himself get surrounded, they would not fire arrows if they had a chance to hit their...'friends'... and he didnt like arrows. Swords he could deal with.

They died right and left, and tears fell from him every few steps. I still hurt. His stuppor made him clumsy, almost walking into swordpoints. Almost. He cut his path twards the middle, he didnt care if this was his last fight. He was finaly thinning their lines... no, they were backing off.... the commander. A dark one in full, magnificent armor and deadly, farm more then these novices. Good, perhaps he will give me my end, or atleast enough of a challenge to make me forget all of this.

He slowed his pace and stopped for a second, not to focus.... he was beyond focus, he wanted to feel that feeling, that sent him into all this, again. To feel that and make it stab at him as keen as any sword. They advanced twards eachother. As he swung his sword, he choked on his tears. The dark one took the advantage, and connected. A fist to the face as he parried the choked strike. As he went flying back, trying not to fall, he lost the grip on his sword and it fell.

He done for. So easily defeated by a commander, he should be better! What was wrong with him. He would atleast keep honor. Not having much heart and more, he kneeled and exposed his neck sniffling.

The dark one spoke "You have suffered too much. You are a rare breed, one of a very few. Come, i offer your life if you join us. Forget them, they have betrayed you, nothing but pain. Come."

He just kneeled there, keeping his neck exposed. Praying that he would be ended.
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Nataku
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PostSubject: Re: story - not poetry   Sun Nov 02, 2008 7:13 am

And now he was flying twards the castle on the high cliff. That damned castle! He told them it should be torn down, but he was ignored. Always ignored. Now look! They have her inside, locked somewhere within the depths. He was not happy. Infact... he was going to make each stone of the castle wish it was sand.

It wasnt the biggest of castles, more of just a keep overlooking a cliff with ocean beyond. Still sizable. It was early dawn, a brilliant day comming, they probibly havent seen him yet. Poor fools. He would make them pay, and prayed the innocent wouldnt stand before him. But she was his priotity, he would grind the castle, the abomination it stood for, to dust another time.

He alighted and landed on the left flank of it, digging in back claws and left claw, deep within the stone and earth below. He let his tail and wings hang there, and with his free claw, up and over and started clawing, digging, out parts of the castle, simply letting the stones drop to the ocean below.

Pain!

Archers! They throw arrows at him! Did they think he could be stopped? Now? No, he was in fury, and he had a mission. Reaching his head over (they wernt even far away!) he breathed on them... and they... ceased to be. A few squires ran up, but they could not get a decent strike and simply fell into the water with more stone. He dug and dug, clearing out a path from the side, digging into the castle, into the buildings adorning the court yard. She was here, but she was deeper within, so he didnt fear harming her.

A few knights, more archers, none stood long aginst him. He was bleeding, but he felt not a scape. He honestly belived if the gods came down to stop him, he would cut them down too. Finaly clearing a space big enough, he crawled into it more, body now on the landing and not hanging. Now he digged in earnest, both claws, one the the other and repeate. Rocks falling on him from the weakening structure...

He dug on.
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PostSubject: Re: story - not poetry   Wed Nov 05, 2008 11:07 pm

A Little Different

Their fighting broke out on a mountain train. Close to the cliff edge that leads to the ocean, a long long drop. They met at the river, getting drinks, not knowing the other encamped so close. And so they clashed the young knight and the Nefarious One. The birds flew from the clash of metal, they fought on. Slash, chop, thrust, parry, riposte, not exactly a flury that would be sung in tales, but each movement offered a chance to turn the tide.

They eventualy happened to make their way over to the cliff edge. Fighting closer to the edge because that was the only spot that would be free of tree and foliege. If one was careful, they could avoid going over and gain freedom of movement.

After a furious jab, the young knight jumped back and prepared another attack, but the Nefarious One followed afterwards just as quick, throwing his momentum into the charge. The strike was not meant to kill, it was meant to unbalance the knight. It worked. For a moment the knight teterd on the edge, and regained his balance.... untill the One kicked him to the torso and he went over. Knowing that there was no ledges, and that even the ocean was rocky directly below, the Nefarious One stalked off. He was still thirsty and had his own plans, meeting this thorn in the side and ending him was a bonus, a very nice bonus. Infact, he even heard the knight hit the wall on the way down.

~~~~~~~~~~

He had a little trouble breathing as he fell. He sighed, and thought *It would be an honor to die by that one. One who uses no black tricks, who fights honorably, even if he was mislead in the sidings of the war.* Yes, he felt it would be an honor, but it was not to be had today. With an angry growl he thrust his sword into the cliff face, shearing it. With a groan, he slowed to a stop, his blade almost snapping under the weight. Almost. If it was any of his other comrads, they would have broken their blade even trying, or the lucky few would have just flown away. But he was not like them, he was a little different. He did not have a layer of fat to protect from winter, which was quite cold, nor did he have muscle to impress the ladies and cleave through armor and shield. No, he was a thing of bone and tendon and sinew. That made him a little weaker, but that made him a little lighter.

He sighed in relief as he came to rest. Then slowly reached out, found a high hand hold, and re-scabbarded his blade. Now he started a long slow climb upwards. Sometimes he wished they would just hack his head off, save him from these grueling tasks. But as long as he drew breath, he had to fight. He was a little tired now. Finaly reaching the ledge, he pulled himself over, rested for a moment, then trudged off into the forrest again.

~~~~~~~~~

The Nefarious One was sitting at the river. He had made a small fire, was cooking some stew, and had his blade and a few pieces of armor over on a rock drying after being cleaned.

"That was a good kick." He hear someone say loudly, further down the river. He jumped up, got his sword and turned. His jaw dropped, he should be dead! He saw him go off the cliff!

"Dont look so suprised, if i was that easy to kill, i would have been dead long ago." Slowly he walked over to the river, and took a drink. In this time the One put down his sword and started strapping his armor back on. He might actualy need it.

They both stood up, facing each other....

"Now... where were we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Hunting

He had finaly caught them. The two who split off, decided to make their own path away from the light. It wasnt know if they could be trusted anymore so someone had to catch them, so he volinteered. He was a hunter, after all.

It really wasnt hard to find them, he had tracked them for several months before he got his chance to nab them. They would leave prints, or somethinkg discarded skewed to the side, and even once he found a dead deer by the reek of blood in the air, partialy eaten.

But he caught them, suprised them. and now they were tied, bound behind the back, and to different trees, not even looking at eachother. They mewled and asked to be freed, called him friend, old comrade. He asked them, begged them, to reconsider, to come back and he would help their case with all the power at his disposal. They would not hear it. He fed them the little he dared and left them be. He added a few herbs into the mix so that they would sleep deeply. After they drifted off, he had much thinking to do. What to do with them now? He could drag them back, a long journey, and let fate and justice balance the scales that were wronged. He could just kill them now, surely that was their fate? He could do anything. So many right things to do, so many wrong things... but what was his way?

He sighed. He had only one choice when it came to these two.

~~~~~~

After several hours the two bound woke up... only to find they were unbound, freed from when they slumbered, a cold campfire nearby. Neither of them knew why they were freed, surely they were caught? Doomed? To be sentanced by the hand of the light itself, for the various attrocities they commited. And didnt their captor have the best reasons of all to see to that? They didnt question their luck long, they wanted to be gone from here, so they took off, a little stiffly at first from sleeping bound.

~~~~~~

He looked down upon them from a good distance away and sighed.

"What have i done?
Light forgive me,
it was my only choice."
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