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The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Литературен кът за колективни изяви и разкази, вдъхновени от ролеви игри. Тук може да пуснете разказ за вашите приключения, да пишете историйки с продължение или пък просто да споделите интересни случки и герои от ролеви сесии.
ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » чет ное 18, 2010 2:22 pm

The journey to old Loderon was long and tedious one, since it took almost twice the time it normally required. Naturally the king of Greland could not be in a hurry and had to take the distance majestically and excruciatingly slow. Even without the celebrations that were held on every stop – sometimes spanning for two or three days - it was impossible to travel with good speed. The traveling party consisted from the royal family, swarms of nobles and virtually an army of servants, guards and footmen. The king’s patience was slowly thinning with every detour for hunt in the nearby forest or a walk to a splendid lake just over the hillside. At last with a well played display of royal anger and displeasure with his subject the king refused to attend any festivities. They were as good as banned, for no one would dare arrange amusements the king would not attend, thus be considered excluded from them. The remaining five days from the journey king Bolwar kept to his huge traveling house and arrived at the ruins in great spirits.
Garen and Invane spent most of the travel in each-other’s company and quite enjoyed themselves. They had common military history and it was nice to remember they used to be friends, now when times were not so dire. They lingered over the battles they fought and won together, managing a short laugh before letting it die out as they remembered their fallen comrades. Both of them told their tales about the passed years since their last meeting. Garen in court, Invane in the Scorched Lands. She had not changed one bit, he – thoroughly. Nothing was left from the boyish carriage he had had over ten years ago. Invane watched him with a smile and wondered how lovely it was to have a conversation without being observed with constant reverence. She was just a human after all. People tended to forget that behind the face of a god, there was also a mortal being there. Garen in the opposite was forgetting she was Gilean’s Favored soul. Once in the spur of a moment he took her hand in his. Ivnane stared at him in disbelief, but he did not release her. Garen was looking in her eyes with a challenge, showing her he was not afraid of what she might see in him and nor should she. His gesture had warmed her heart and body with its simplicity so much she didn’t think then that the reason she saw nothing in him, was because he was blank as a white sheet of paper.
The royal convoy entered Loderon valley in the early afternoon. The scenery that welcomed them was breathtaking. When the mages took their university in the sky and left, the city was very soon abandoned. It was after all a wizard’s city so no one dared to plunder it, only the most hopeless of souls would enter it and they never dallied. For centuries aside from the crater from which the university was plunged out the buildings stood untouched like their residents had just left them – it was truly a ghostly haunted city.
When the last war broke off all four countries set on to conquer Loderon for they believed great magical knowledge and weapons still remained hidden within the city borders. None of them had any real evidence other than plain suspicions, but even as unlikely as they sounded, they couldn’t let their enemies take the city with the smallest chance that there actually was something within the city. The greatest battles were held in this very valley, which in the end turned it into a dead barren place. From the clash of armies and magic the city was as good as annihilated. The buildings turned into rubble, the rubble into sand, the sand into ashes. Not a blade of grass remained standing. When the peace was sealed later in the midst of the ruins the archmages of the floating island cast a spell over the valley that submerged it in a sea of flowers. It was a magnificent wonder that served as a symbol of the newly built peace among the nation and hid the white glaring bones of all the fallen and the scars their battle had inflicted upon the land.
The crater where the university once stood was turned into arena where each country’s champions would compete for fame and glory in the ten year celebrations. At its four directions stood newly set temporary buildings and tents that would accommodate all the royal guests.
Garen and Invane had both beheld the valley before, but it was still a sight to marvel. It had a serene beauty that summoned solace in people’s hearts. Even the nobles were enchanted and almost appeared human as they gazed over the flower fields. Soon however the moment passed and they were again back to their gossiping and scheming while descending towards the camps.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от CTAHuMuP » чет ное 18, 2010 4:07 pm

Бахти, що така си сипала на Гаренчо ве? Празен лист хартия си ТИ!! :(
Какво е това уклон, накъде клони и като клони, пада ли?
За разлика от отмъщението, наредбата е ястие, което се сервира най-добре горещо.

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » съб ное 20, 2010 12:03 am

Two days later at sunset Tyce and Morserv also reached Loderon valley. They arrived with a good few days delay after the servants they were traveling with, because unexpected events required their expeditious retreat from the convoy.
They stopped for few moments on the top of the ridge and watched the view that spanned before them in quiet contemplation like everyone else did. The floating island was already here too, hovering high above the arena.
-Do you think we should mask ourselves when entering the camp? – Tyce said finally and turned to his friend. Morserv’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he crossed his hands.
-Why would we possibly do that? This is peaceful diplomatic event. Besides, we are expected.
-I don’t know. There’s nothing wrong with being a little cautious. – Tyce said and shoved thumbs in his belt. The wizard narrowed eyes.
-Why? You’re not planning to murder someone are you?
-No!
-Is anyone planning to murder you?
-Well… - He drawled.
Morserv signed and rubbed his forehead and without a word strode on towards the camp.
-Do you know who is going to be gathered in this damn camp? – Tyce shouted after him and quickly followed. – It would be an insult if no one wanted me dead! You should feel insulted as well, you know!
As soon as they reached the first temporary settlements, one finely dressed servant approached them and with a slight bow welcomed them both. He informed them that the king and the nobles had already retreated after meeting the royals from Natal, Verenja and Karakoon earlier. They had all been presented to each other – ceremony that had been going on since morning. Tomorrow evening a banquette was going to be held. The day after the arena would be cleared and they would start preparations for the tournament.
-And now if you would follow me, I will show you to your accommodations. – With this said the servant led them to their designated tents.
In front of it to welcome them further in full Guardian uniform stood Garen Irdane. His face lit with pleasure at the sight of the wizard and they greeted like old friends.
-Morserv, so glad to see you. There is someone I’d like you to meet, but it will have to wait till tomorrow morning.
-Isn’t there anyone interesting for me to meet as well? – Tyce said interrupting their warm reunion.
Irdane turned to the thief and with a crooked smile offered him a curt nod.
-Tyce. It is good to see you are still alive as well.
The rogue barked a short laugh and shook his head.
-You have no idea. – He just said but with a smile also shook Garen’s offered hand.
Their acquaintance was not exactly of the regular type. They met in their early twenties. Garen was on his bright path to his military career, but his zeal, skills and the typical arrogance of all youths rubbed some very powerful and influential people the wrong way. As a result a number of hired assassins were sent his way. Tyce was not above such endeavors at the time as long as it provided him some entertainment. For his services he required scandalous sum of money, so when his employers actually agreed to pay it full, he knew his target was going to be something. And he was not wrong. It had taken him forever to separate him from his fellow guardians, and when the paladin finally fell into his trap, he had simply dismounted his steed, stood at ready and said – “Let us get to it then.”
They battled for hours and if was sheer will and determination that solely moved the human body, they would have fought on for eternity. That was not the case however and at the end each of them bleeding profoundly from numerous slashes had collapsed from exhaustion on the ground. They had lied like this, unable to move a muscle and when their tongues were as tiered as the remaining of them from spitting challenges, they quieted down. For a while the only sound from either of them was the heavy panting for air.
-You are a great swordsman. – Garen had said finally.
-Yes I am. – Tyce agreed and as the paladin had bared his teeth and growled at him, had added. – But so are you.
-Still, you might even be better than me, but you will never beat me, because you fight too reckless.
-So it would seem. – The rogue had sighed.
-Why are you trying to kill me? Whatever have I done to you?
-Nothing in particular. – Tyce had shrugged a shoulder. – I was offered a tasty sum for your head.
-Are you poor? Is your family perhaps starving? – Garen had said, turning his head towards the black haired man. Tyce just stared back at him, clearly at a loss for words.
-Not at all. It promised to be a good distraction.
-You are murdering for fun?! – Irdane had shouted then and if he had even a spark of power left in his limbs he would’ve been up on his feet and in attack again.
The rogue had laughed then – a short joyless laughter.
-Friend, rather than death I fear boredom the most.
The paladin had finally given up his attempts to get up and quieted down.
-You are skilled. You can use your skills for good. Rather than doing these pointless crimes, you can help people. – Garen had said and his voice had been calm, composed and imploring.
-The only thing I see in people are their selfish, deceiving, greedy souls. They would be better off dead. – Then Tyce had been up on his feet and standing over the paladin. With one boot he had stepped on his guardian armor and pushed him down to the ground. He had thrust his sword hard into the ground near Garen’s head and left.
No more assassins were ever sent after Irdane. Rather, no one reached him. Still once in a while Tyce would set him up in an ambush and try to kill him. As much as the paladin admitted to himself how twisted their friendship was – if that was the proper term for this – he could not truly bring himself to hate the rogue. Deep down he hoped his soul could be saved and turned into instrument of justice.
-Here are your summons from the king. – Garen said and handed Morserv two golden envelopes. – His Highness would like to have few words with you. Rest now, we will talk more in the morning. – And after he wished them good night, he left and went to check if the guards were all on their posts.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от CTAHuMuP » съб ное 20, 2010 12:16 pm

Дотук 12,192 думи, а още не са започнали да куестват. Ти си по-бавна от Толкин ве :)
Какво е това уклон, накъде клони и като клони, пада ли?
За разлика от отмъщението, наредбата е ястие, което се сервира най-добре горещо.

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » съб ное 20, 2010 12:20 pm

Хаха :cry:
Скучно ли е?
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от lowstef » съб ное 20, 2010 2:40 pm

Хич даже и изобщо не е скучно, продължавай си както си знаеш, много е яко.
Който ме харесва е прав! Който не ме харесва е прав! Който не му пука за мен не е прав!
The leather armies have prevailed
The Phantom Lord has never failed...
Fall to your knees and bow to the Phantom Lord

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от xobgob » съб ное 20, 2010 6:45 pm

Хайде де каде е останалото искам да видя драма, голи жени, търговски сделки за милиони. И какво стана с пикситата. Разбирам че филма е нискобюджетен ама 3 минути игрално време си е просто отрязване. Очаквах поне вожда на племето да има реплика от сорта на: ''u have managet to arouse me ... i mean arouse my ire''
Siege mode
Tank mode

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CTAHuMuP
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от CTAHuMuP » нед ное 21, 2010 12:24 am

lowstef написа:Хич даже и изобщо не е скучно, продължавай си както си знаеш, много е яко.
Стига се натяга, другия път пак ща нахейти като направиш масакра тъй или иначе :) Освен това ти СИ фен на Толкин :)
Какво е това уклон, накъде клони и като клони, пада ли?
За разлика от отмъщението, наредбата е ястие, което се сервира най-добре горещо.

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » нед ное 21, 2010 5:24 pm

Like a silent shadow Tyce was sneaking through the quiet outskirts of the camp. His face hooded in black he was heading for where the king’s tents were, intending to drop his summon in this most inappropriate hour and manner. As he came into a clearing he forgot his idea the moment his eyes fell on Invane Valar. In her blue and white and gold robes she was on her knees, fingers locked in front of her chest silently praying. The pleats of her sleeves softly shifted caught up by the night wind. White wings spreading from her back her whole form glowed with faint silver light.
If he didn’t know better he would say his heart just skipped a beat. But he didn’t have a heart and that wasn’t the case. Still something in him stirred and he felt, at the back of his conscience that the demon shifted.
Tyce leaned one shoulder on the nearby tree, crossed arms in front of his chest and just stood like that.
Loderon Valley was filled with lingering spirits. Things like that weren’t unnatural for places where many people had died, but still it had been almost ten years now. Usually priests and clerics would help trapped souls cross over, or with time they would move on on their own. What was keeping these restless souls chained to this place she could not tell. Maybe no one had been here to ferry them, maybe it was the magic of this place or some other force that kept them here. Invane was calling out to them and they had gathered around her. She got through some of them, but others had already turned to manifestation of pure emotion – fear, regret, pain, rage. Swarming around her, freezing chills ran her skin as they touched her or passed right through her. At last with a sigh she released Gilean’s hold and the souls retreated. Her white wings slowly started shedding their shiny feathers. Invane opened eyes and she took in a frightened breath seeing a shape made of black mist with burning red eyes staring at her. She gasped and shook her head. No mist – just a black haired man with now concerned face walking towards her. She felt a little dizzy, her eyes were clearly playing tricks to her tired mind.
In few strides Tyce reached her and took her hand to help her stand.
-Forgive me, I must have frightened you. – He began pulling her up on her feet. Startled Invane gasped and tried to release her fingers from his hand. Relief washed over her, since she was way too tired to see anything from him.
-It is nothing. I was just praying. – She said finally pulling her hand free, then rubbed palms, still feeling the chill over her skin. – There are a lot of stray spirits, roaming the valley. – Invane explained with a wary look around. She then finally looked up at him and her brows frowned. – Who are you?
Tyce, who was obviously just standing and staring at her snapped out of it and introduced himself with a bow and offered hand.
-I have forgotten my manners! Call me Tyce.
-Ah, I have heard the name. I heart from paladin Irdane that you and The Wizard Morserv are expected today. – She said and looked at the offered palm a little suspicious, but decided it was ok and took it. Tyce pulled her shapely hand to his lips and placed a kiss over her folded fingers. – And I – she coughed and pulled her hand back – am Invane Valar. I am afraid you have missed the official introductions.
Tyce waved a dismissive hand.
-Which is luck on our account I dare say. I can’t imagine how boring it might have been to stand for hours watching former enemies exchange pleasantries.
The priestess laughed and nodded.
-Indeed.
They spent a while in casual chat, Tyce trying all his charming tricks on her, while she was ignoring each of them. He escorted her to her tent and as she was going to enter inside, grabbed her shoulders and turned her to him. The man took her hands in his and fell to one knee.
-I love you - he said. - I know this must come as something of a surprise but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second more. I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any man has ever loved a woman, but I was wrong. That was a mere infatuation compared to my feelings now. You have captivated me since the first moment my eyes laid over the gentle oval of your face. I know now that we are destined to be together, for no doubt love like this is meant to be. Dearest, lovliest Invane.
Without a word she closed the canvas of the tent in his face.
Tyce let his head drop. Few of the maiden priestesses that tended to Invane’s needs looked at him in shock from behind the corner of the tent and giggled.
-What is going on here? – Irdane’s voice boomed and he appeared following a servant girl with worried face. Behind him were Deanen and Adtaw with hands on the hilts of their swords. Clearly as soon as the servant girl had seen the stranger following her mistress she had ran for the paladin.
Tyce slowly stood up and dusted the dirt off his pants.
-Nothing of your concern. – The thief sad coolly and looked Garen with a challenge.
-Everything that goes on in this camp concerns me. - Garen said sharply then took the steps toward him, his dark eyes pierced Tyce with silent fury when he spoke to him in low voice.
-I will not have you cause trouble. This celebration is bigger than you and me and I will not allow you to endanger it in any way. Reign yourself or you will force me to have you locked up for the whole duration. Have I made myself clear.
-Very much so. – Tyce answered.
-We will take you to your tent. - The paladin stepped aside and pointed towards the camp and couldn’t have been more surprised when Tyce quietly followed. He was sure some retaliation would soon follow. And it did.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » нед ное 21, 2010 11:49 pm

-So will you fight me or not! – Tyce called out and the gathered crowd around him roared in approval.
Paladin Irdane ran his stern look over the shouting people and they quieted down a little. Most of them weren’t even from Greland at all so his authority didn’t mean a thing for them. More people were coming to see what was going on now, but they weren’t big enough mob to cause a threat.
They were in the arena – its center was taken by the huge luxurious awning, prepared for the banquette tonight. Around it heroes from all over the continent sparred together or simply demonstrated their skills to the spectators, that would later place their bets on one or the other.
-For the last time, - Garen said with his matter of fact voice and looked at Tyce again – the tournament does not begin until tomorrow. No duels are to be held before the opening.
-Why wait till tomorrow! Let us see who is the better warrior! This is what we’ve been gathered here for is it not! – Another excited roar from the crowd.
-There is protocol to be followed. – The paladin explained calmly. – Names are drawn randomly. I will face you in the arena if you are lucky.
-What is protocol when test of skill is called for? – Tyce spread hands and turned to the spectators who cheered. Dressed all in black, his voice echoing through the arena he had them all in the palm of his hand and he knew it. – I give you the noble mighty paladin Irdane, champion of Ashgard, Guardian of Varn victorious after thousands battles. Facing a boy from the streets! And he wavers? – The crowd laughed laud. The Guardians at Garen’s side bristled up with anger and held their swords close.
-It would bring me equal pleasure to meet you in the arena, Tyce. – The paladin said with a crooked smile. – Do fight your way through the tournament. I will await you at the finals. – Indeed he meant it. He would gladly fight the rogue were he not obliged to follow the rules and set example.
-Oh-ho, how confident, friends!
-What is amiss? – Demanding voice rose above the cheers and suddenly the crowd fell dead still. It parted and the king of Greland, the Favored soul of Gilean, their retinues and guards came trough.
-Sire. – Garen said and bowed his head.
-Let us fight for the favour of this fair lady then. – Tyce said with bravado and pointed at the priestess. Invane stared him back with her empty glassy eyes and said nothing.
-Enough of this nonsense! – The paladin hissed at him.
-We demand explanation. – The king said as he neared them.
-Sire, I am challenged to a test of skill by this man even as it is strictly not according to the rules of the tournament.
The king looked at the challenger and raised a brow at Tyce.
-Now Irdane, the point of this fest is to entertain ourselves is it not? The crowd seems eager, so are we. By all means have this duel. Just don’t kill each-other yet. – The spectators cheered again and started to push back to clear enough space for the two to fight.
Surprised the paladin just gaped at his ruler for a second, but then nodded and turned towards his opponent.
-My pleasure. – He said in a low voice and pulled the ties of his cloak.
Morserv was making his way through the eager crowd until he finally reached the front. He was intending to break this farce apart, but the king beat him to it. With a sigh the wizard rested fists on his sides and had nothing else to do now but watch.
-This should prove interesting. – Came a purr of a voice at his side and Morserv turned to see who had spoken to him. At his right stood Magic and curiously observed the preparations of the combatants. She was dressed in cobweb of a dress that generously complemented her ample forms, revealing more than it hid. Her coppery hair was fixed in an elaborate style beneath a black headdress. Her eyes were fully black and now turned to her follower. She was quite the sight and Morserv wondered how the other people standing nearby remained calm. He then realized they probably did not see her at all.
-Mistress. – Morserv said with surprise and stole a quick gaze across the crowd. Where Magic was her brother the Spearmaster was never too far.
-My armor. – Garen’s voice came and he spread arms for Deanen to strap the huge shield to his hand, while Adtaw brought his helm
-Shall we make a small wager for the winner? – Magic asked him and again turned her gaze towards Garen and Tyce. Morserv hesitated for he knew better than to wager with the gods, but he wouldn’t want to insult his goddess either.
-It is hard to decide who is better. Tyce has never lost a battle before. But this is the Paladin of Varn we are watching now. - He said with caution.
-Tyce will never in this world beat him. – Magic said thoughtfully and Morserv’s eyed her with guarded suspicion. – But I should tell you this – Garen will never in this world beat him either.
The shield was now tightly strapped to his left arm and Garen placed the helm on his head.
-My sword. – The paladin said and the broadsword was already in his palm.
All the while Tyce was strolling around the free space making a show of himself for the crowd that cheered him wildly. Finally he turned to the middle, extended his hand and in a mocking imitation said “My weapon”.
Before the last sounds rolled out of his mouth with a sharp wooshing sounds huge spear came down from the sky and was plunged in the ground with such force that cracks spread from its blade. The crimson pike was carved with battle scenes and each cut emitted soft golden glow.
The celestial origin of the weapon was without question and the hushed crowd exploded into wild roar when they realized Might was present and picking sides.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от CTAHuMuP » пон ное 22, 2010 10:54 am

Хахаха, в тези два поста са двата най-яки лафа от разказа досега.
ChoChan написа:He was sure some retaliation would soon follow. And it did.
ChoChan написа:Morserv was making his way through the eager crowd until he finally reached the front. He was intending to break this farce apart, but the king beat him to it.
Поне на мен са ми много забавни :) Просто си представям Морсерв "Stop this mad... Няаама значение, proceed".
Какво е това уклон, накъде клони и като клони, пада ли?
За разлика от отмъщението, наредбата е ястие, което се сервира най-добре горещо.

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » пон ное 22, 2010 6:09 pm

Tyce was as surprised as the crowd was and without a second thought wrapped his fingers around the runecovered hilt and lifted the spear above his head.
-Fool. – Morserv hissed with exasperation.
-You should have accepted the wager. – Magic said with a smile lingering over her plump lips and then she was gone.
The crowd was cheering, the combatants faced each other – Garen with raised shield and sword in front of him, Tyce casually resting the spear over his shoulder. They exchanged few words, but they were drowned in the general commotion. Finally they turned towards their ruler and awaited his command.
-Begin. – King Bolwar announced laud and clear.
With a sneer Tyce charged forward taking fast nimble steps trying to feint his attack. Garen just stood there his shield high not even trying to dodge the blow. The rogue took a leap and put all his weight against the paladin’s shield. The spear went through shield and helm like butter and its tip left the first cut on Garen’s cheek. Tyce’s boots lightly landed on top of the buckler and with mighty swing Garen sent him flying back. The rogue made a flip in midair and landed on his feet.
The paladin advanced with heavy steady steps, Tyce countered him with flurry of lightning attacks and each of them got blocked or deflected. Garen stood immovable like a mountain while the rogue danced around each of them searching for openings. Finally after a wide jab Tyce let him a chance for attack. The paladin smashed his shield over the spear and pinned it to the ground, the same moment swinging the sword for his head. Tyce swiftly ducked down, picked some dirt and threw it at his opponent’s face. With an angry roar Garen disengaged him and drew few steps back. He took off the helm and threw it on the ground, quickly wiping the sand from his eyes.
After exchanging few swings Tyce nimbly slipped through Garen’s shield and sword and crashed against his armor. The spear slid between the attaching straps and with a twist they snapped sending the shield flying. Garen grabbed at the spear and heavily smashed forehead in Tyce’s face. The paladin took his swords in both hands and raised it above his head. The disoriented rogue managed to firmly grab the spear and place it in the way of the blow. Garen’s sword fell with mighty strength and the moment it touched the pike, the crimson spear disappeared. Terror dawned in his eyes as he desperately tried to stop his blow. It was all too late and the sword slashed at his friend’s chest. Tyce fell like a ragged doll in the dirt and did not move anymore.
The cheering crowd gasped in dismay and fell silent. Garen stood with deathly white face watching down at Tyce, whose blood was all over his hands and face.
Then shouting and shrieking exploded again and people were rushing to help the fallen rogue. Morserv was swept by the pushing crowd and his shouts lost in the commotion. The Guardians interfered then at the kings orders. Pushing the crowd away from Tyce they got to him, swiftly picked him up and carried him away. Invane was with them, pressing her hands against the wound. Her lips moved in incantation and faint blue light surrounded her.
Like in a trance Garen just stood there, not feeling the people pushing past him or hearing the cautious praises for the duel, watching at the bloody spot on the ground.
-We said. Not to kill each-other. – The king told him through his teeth. This finally seemed to pull the paladin back to reality.
-Forgive me, Your Highness. – He managed with hollow voice, bowed low and remained like that until the king and his retinue withdrew.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от CTAHuMuP » вт ное 23, 2010 10:00 am

Le gasp! Написано е much more epic than по време на игра (ако това, което правихме, може да се нарече игра).
Какво е това уклон, накъде клони и като клони, пада ли?
За разлика от отмъщението, наредбата е ястие, което се сервира най-добре горещо.

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » чет ное 25, 2010 12:00 am

Tyce woke up with a startle. The first thing he saw was the cloth ceiling of his tent. He stood motionless for few moments reconsidering what had happened. He couldn’t make a good recollection of the events and his head was so heavy. For some reason it felt like as if it was full of cotton. The rest of his body he didn’t feel at all. And he was so damn thirsty.
-Where is it! – Woman’s voice whispered.
The rogue tried to lift his head, but couldn’t so his eyes slid from the ceiling and down the walls. He saw a goldenhaired head bent over his bare chest.
-Where is it! I can’t find it! – Invane Valar hissed again in desperation and lifted her face a little so that Tyce could see what she was doing. The pale skin was all splattered with blood and so were her hands – up the elbows and deep in his open ribcage. Eyes wide open, Tyce’s breath got caught in his throat.
-I can’t find it! Where is your heart! – She shouted now tearing muscle and bone out of his chest, digging deeper and deeper. And Tyce started screaming. He felt his throat split apart from the unbearable agony that grasped his whole body. His breath became ragged and broken, his eyes rolled and he began to descent in blessed oblivion.
Invane grabbed him by the throat and pulled him up. Here eyes were black and hollow, the features of her face twisted.
-Oh, no you don’t. – The darkness retreated, the consciousness returned, and with it came the souls. They swarmed on him like a pack of wolves pulling, clawing, rending.
Bright light erupted behind Invane and it banished her and the spirits. The souls dispersed like morning mist, but did not vanish. No, they just drew back into the shadows, watching and waiting. The light had the vague shape of armor clad angelic creature. Its radiant gaze washed all over Tyce. Then the sentinel turned towards the dark and silently stood at guard, warding the spirits off.
Tyce woke up with a startle. The first thing he saw was the cloth ceiling of his tent. He sat up and pressed hand over his heart. There was a wide bandage all over the breadth of his chest. It was thick with dried blood. Tyce slid fingers underneath it and winced. The wound was all closed up and healed but it still hurt like hell.
He then saw Invane – sitting in a chair at his side, her hands folded on the bed, her head rested in them. Her face was pale and her cheeks hollow, she seemed utterly exhausted and drained. Tyce gently grabbed her shoulder and tried to wake her up. Sleeping like this couldn’t possibly be comfortable. However she would not stir.
The rogue stood up from the bed and removed the thick bandage, since it was useless now. He took one look through the canvas – dawn would start to break soon. Returning to the bed he placed hands on his waist and watched the priestess for a while, pondering what to do. Finally he bent over her and with gentle caution scooped her up in his arms. She barely weighted anything at all. Her head rested on his shoulders and her breath was feathering the bare skin of his chest. The sensation sent shivers running up his spine.
Tyce knew it was she who placed that sentry in his mind. The angelic creature that warded off the souls from his dreams. It could not have been anyone else. She must have seen what his dreams were like. He lowered his face down and pressed lips against hers. “Thank you.” Tyce whispered in her ear, then shouldered the canvas and carried her to her own tent.
When he returned, he sagged in his bed and slept. Really slept, for the first time in so many years.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от CTAHuMuP » вт дек 14, 2010 10:42 am

Ари продължавай да пишеш веее
Какво е това уклон, накъде клони и като клони, пада ли?
За разлика от отмъщението, наредбата е ястие, което се сервира най-добре горещо.

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » чет дек 16, 2010 8:26 pm

It was the night of the banquette. The formal part of it was already over and the royal guests strolled around enjoying the fragrant evening air. The commoners and off duty servants had organized little parties for themselves as well and gaily sang and danced around bonfires under the sound of merry jigs.
Many of the Natalian nobles – free spirited people fond of the pleasures of life sneaked out from the official awning and went to where the servants celebrated. More to the shock of other nobles.
Garen was present with his Guardians, looking rather grim even after the news spread that Tyce was alive and in perfect health.
People swarmed around him and with aggravating persistence demanded to discuss the duel – his flawless technique the rogue’s skills and so on. Naturally his composure remained without reproach and he endured the constant bother with commendable stoicism.
In one moment when he could actually catch his breath, Garen turned eyes towards where King Bolwar and Morserv stood together. King and wizard, with heads slightly inclined without realizing it looked thick as thieves discussing whatever they were.
-The celebrations were the excuse I needed to call for you sooner. I must admit that even I find myself at somewhat a loss as how to address the matter.
Morserv made a futile attempt to stop his brows from furrowing in confusion to this introduction. What the king said just now had so many underline meanings it was a real mystery.
-Though I have to say that seeing the panic your presence causes among the guest wizardry as well as our own mages is particularly amusing.
Morserv muttered something appropriate and the king went on.
-There has been a certain young man among my royal seers who has been making curious prophesies. I trust you are aware of the legends of the Old Gods?
The wizards raised an eyebrow with bemusement.
-I am.
-And what do you make of it?
-The mages on the Island strongly discouraged any ideas other than that it’s what it is – but a legend.
-And you take great pleasure in proving the mages wrong.
-Well I simply believe usually their faulty conclusions are the result of insufficient information.
The king's lips curved in a small smirk and he waved a hand for the wizard to speak on. Morserv recited like reading from a book.
-The legends say the old “gods” were four demon lords who wanted to annihilate our world - to corrupt it and twist it so that the heart of our world would stop beating. Only then their master would be able to enter it and claim it as his domain. Our gods fought the demon lords and their hordes of abominations and destroyed them.
The King was offering thoughtful nods while listening to the wizard talk.
-And the other one?
-The other legend says that the Old Gods created our world and the rest of the deities, but then their creations grew greedy for power and turned on them. – Morserv slightly narrowed eyes and looked at the king. – Why? What exactly is this prophet saying?
Bolwar pulled his broad shoulders back and for a moment observed the ruby liquid in his glass.
-Of course, he uses much more colorful language, but the general meaning in his prophecy is that one of the old gods will rise again.
The younger man just stared at his ruler for several long moments until the king finally lifted his eyes from the glass. Many questions bloomed one after another in is mind but for each of them he found an answer second later and he would not do something pointless as to speak them aloud nevertheless. The King would not be telling him things like that if his seer was not respectable or trustworthy, or if any chance of misinterpretation was possible. Bolwar Fordragon was no fool. Still he was not embracing the idea so thoroughly, nor could he completely ignore it.
-I take you understand my precedent, Morserv. – The king said and his eyes drifted over the crowd before returning to the face of the red haired mage. – I’m not asking for answers or guidance, for I know you can give me none. For now I want you to meet this young seer and find out if there is… insufficient information about his story that slipped away from the attention of my mages.
Morserv nodded in understanding and emptied the content of his own glass.
-If this is indeed truthful prophecy I doubt details of these legends matter, since either way we will have one very angry and powerful entity.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » ср дек 29, 2010 2:27 pm

Magic stood atop the hill and watched over the valley that spread beneath her cold but watchful gaze. Nearly twenty feet tall she was dressed in gilded battle armor that emitted a soft pulsating glow. She held her magical staff at her side and at ready.
With a gust of wind Might descended upon the hill and joined her.
-I could hear the sound of your spear breaking all the way from the valley. – Magic said and smiled at her brother. - The bones of these demons are as strong as steel.
-Just a minor delay. Hardly enough to stop me from slaughtering hundreds more.
-Indeed. I doubt much would. – The goddess agreed and turned her eyes towards the far end of the valley, where as they spoke a swarm of demons spilled within it. The scenery blackened as the wretched creatures started slithering their way up the hill over the bodies of thousands of their slaughtered brethren.
-Just look at him. – Magic said with annoyed sigh after she turned her back to the crawling demons and looked in the distance.
-I could never understand what he sees in these mortals. – Might said and also turned.
They looked upon Gilean whose form was as tall as a mountain in the distance. He was in armor as well his white wings spread and were almost getting lost in the clouds. In his feet looking like nothing more than colorful dots from up here were gathering hundreds and thousands of people looking for refuge from the unleashed horrors. Gilean was calling out for them and they ran towards him, for they knew that as long as they were under the shade of his wings, they would be safe.
-Let him have his worms. – Magic said with a snort and looked back at the swarming hordes of demons.
-We have Heavens to conquer. – Might added like an echo and they descended upon the valley.
"Long long ago the world was savage and wild place, where the elements ran rampant. The earth heaved and trembled with rage, mountains erected and crumbled down. The waters boiled and crashed against the surface gnawing at the shores, flooding, drowning anything in their way. The skies roared tearing the land with lightning fingers, smashing thunderous fists against the fields, denying sunlight to the world. Demons often crossed the abyss and entered where they were forbidden to. And between these endless terrors lived the mortals. Their existence was an eternal battle for survival. Death came swiftly to them, the elements refused them peace. It was a hard life, but so were the mortals. In spite of all the chaos that raged around them defiantly they would not surrender to nature and be overrun. Everything they created and built would eventually be destroyed, their beloved would be carried by a flood, lost in a landslide, killed in a storm or by the demons. They would weep for them in their hearts and be done with it, for the next disaster was already swooping down upon them.
Then the gods came into the world. They took pity on the mortals and faced the elements. One of them stood at the gate where the Abyss touched the world and demons would no longer cross over. The second gripped earth and it calmed and subsided to his will. The third sank into the oceans and reigned them to quiet obedience. The last one held the skies so that they would not crash the lands beneath them anymore. Rejoicing mortals raised hands to the skies and praised the gods. Their gods had no names, nor appeared in front of the people, they were but images. And since they descended from Heavens mortals called them after the weapons they wielded - Heaven’s Shield, Heaven’s Sword, Heaven’s Lance and Heaven’s Bow. And the Time of Mortals began.
As much as the gods wanted to be greater part in the life of mortals, they could not. They were forever chained to their posts, warding off the elements. If they ever left – chaos would again return to the world and eventually tear it asunder. And so for eons they stood guard and silently watched over their beloved mortals from distance. Because of this they created gods that could go freely and in their stead would roam with the mortals and protect them. And so Gilean, Ashgard, Morgaze, Might, Magic, The Which of the Wild and all the other gods were born.
At first it all went as the Heavenly had seen it but with time their creations became conceited and greedy. They thought the Heavenly were simply lazy and would not engage in life. That they would rather stand aside and have all the work done for them. And so they decided that since they rule the world already it should be rightfully theirs. The new gods all except Gilean rebelled against the Heavenly and headed for the Abyss.
Bow pleaded, persuaded, begged them not to do foolish things that would just bring to the end of things, but they would not listen. The other Heavenly cried out to their creations as well but they were deaf to their words. Heaven’s Bow could not even, would not fight them for his life. They slew him where he was on his post. The gates to the Abyss shattered open and thousands of demons spilled into their world. The mortals cried to the skies for help but none came. Only Gilean spread his wings and called out to them, offered them protection.
The new gods assumed the Heavenly had finally decided to fight with them and eagerly battled the demon hordes. The destroyed lands where the demons broke loose would later be known as The Scorched Lands.
The remaining Heavenly seeing what was happening, knew that they could not reason with the gods, that they would as well be killed and the world would break. To prevent this from happening, they imbued their weapons with all their power and essence and plunged them in the spot where they had been standing guard for so long. One by one the new gods came for the remaining of the Heavenly and slew them. Deeming themselves victorious, they did not care about the weapons for finally they had the world to themselves, as they had wanted.
Much later the gods understood what the heavenly had done with their power, but the weapons were already hidden beyond their immortal reach. They would never find them, and even if they did, they could never wield them."
-And these legends are all that is left today from the old gods.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » съб фев 05, 2011 3:56 pm

Morserv was sitting in the comfortable settee, he had his long legs crossed, his fingers locked and relaxed in his lap and stared at the young man that had just finished talking. The seer was probably not seventeen with the traditional shaved head and tattoos running over the smooth skull and down at the side of his neck. He ran slim fingers over the lapel of his robes and eyed the wizard with calm face. The boy observed Morserv with equal interest and probably the start of some impatience. The redhaired wizard could not help himself, he was truly lost for words. Finally he managed to clear his throat.
-That is…one most peculiar story. – Morserv said and unlocked his fingers, sliding them over the armrests of his settee.
-But… I haven’t even started talking. – The seer answered with some puzzlement. – His Highness told me you could probably help me figure out better what my vision is about. I can’t imagine why – He said and gave the wizard somewhat suspicious glance. Then his eyes widened a little. – Don’t get me wrong! – The boy added hastily. – I mean no disrespect, I just assumed that...
-No offence taken, young man. Now let me hear what you have to tell me.
The seer’s face resumed its calm determination and as he relaxed again in his chair he started telling the story about his visions.
Morserv barely listened to what he had to say. His eyes were piercing the young man, examining him most thoroughly. There was something there, and he was going to find out what. After a while he decided he had seen all there is to his outer appearance and tapped to the arcane power that always lurked at the back of his mind. The usual exultation rushed down his veins and set his blood to fire. He extended his mental reach for the young seer. Invisible fingers stretched out searching for something unusual and there it was. A barrier solid as stone all around the boy. Morserv slid hands over the barrier looking for its end but there seemed to be none. He felt, poked, pushed it looking for a crack, some opening or flaw in it. There was none. Calmly he pressed on examining the strange barrier. Then without a warning invisible and mighty force slapped across his inquiring fingers. The mental assault was so immense his whole body went limp and his eyes watered. His face cringed and he did his best not to call out.
-Yes! So very sad isn’t it. – The young seer said misunderstanding his emotions. – Brings tears to my eyes as well.
Morserv only managed a nod.
-So what is your opinion, Master Morserv? – The seer finally asked when his story was over more being polite than actually considering that the wizard could help with anything.
-I will have to spend some time thinking it over. I hope it is all right to come find you if I have additional questions?
-Of course of course, by all means! – He agreed eagerly and left after taking his goodbyes.
The sun was setting over Loderon and painted the skies in purple hues. It was a lovely cool summer evening and nobles and commoners were already amusing themselves in their own ways.
Tyce was walking across the camp – a man on a mission and was determined not to get distracted from his destination. He declined the friendly calls from people left and right, inviting him to join them for a drink with a wave of his hand. He even ignored the steamy glances filled with promises a servant girl sent his way.
He was already few steps from Morserv’s tent when a woman walked by him. Calling her simply a woman would be a grieve insult to this practical vision. She was tall and slim, her hair was the rich deep shades of crimson and softly encircled the white skin of her face like flames. She was dressed in dark red gown whose big skirts gently swayed with every light step she took. She batted her heavy lashes and locked eyes with Tyce as she passed by him. When she bypassed him he turned his head after her simply unable to avert his gaze. He was so taken he wasn’t looking where he was walking at all until he almost tripped and fell over something. As it turned out there was an unconscious bald youngling sprawled on the ground in his feet. He was dressed in robes of some sort and had his skull all tattooed.
Remembering he was going somewhere, Tyce stepped over the body and entered Morserv’s tent.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » вт юни 07, 2011 10:36 pm

Tyce entered the tent and for a moment stood at the entrance squinting in the dusk, then he noticed the wizard leisuring in the settee.
-Whyever are you sitting alone in the dark? This is so unlike you! – He exclaimed when he reached the middle of the tent, stopped and with hands at his hips glared at the wizard.
-My hands are sort of tied here, you see. – Morserv sighed and made another go to lift his hand off the armrest but it limply slid down in his lap.
-I heard you bet against me! – Tyce shouted with the air of scorned pride around him. – Some friend you are.
-I have done no such thing. – Morserv said unimpressed with the display and continued with his attempts to bring the life back to his limp body.
-You certainly didn’t bet on me either. You ought to know how deeply this offends me.
-Wagering with the gods is not my idea for a good sport. You should follow by my example as well. This will surely get you less broken bones.
Tyce crossed the tent and sat on the sofa, then full of melodrama slid down it, pressed hand to his chest and let out a ragged sigh.
Morserv suddenly doubled his efforts to order his body to move up and out of here, sensing where this was going.
Finally after few more exaggerated sighs Tyce let it out.
-She is so wonderful! She must be mine!
-For the love of… Have you completely lost the tiny bits of mind you were ever lucky to possess!
-No, my friend! For the first time my mind is firmly set. Go on! Look for yourself. – He said and jumped off the sofa. – After all isn’t it what you’ve always wanted to do. – Tyce added with a crooked smirk. – Come on then, take a look in.
Morserv eyed him with building annoyance and opened his mouth to snap back at his friend but then he bit on his words and cautiously narrowed his eyes. At last he pulled in the faintest string of power still wary of whatever had happened to him few hours ago and looked in.
A second later he quickly pulled away.
-But this…
-See! I told you! – Tyce shouted triumphant. – She isn’t indifferent to me. There is something in me that calls out to her and something in her that answers.
-Unless these somethings are in the form of words coming out of her mouth you should better stay away, Tyce. I am warning you.
As soon as Morserv was again the master of his own body he left the tent in search for Gilean’s priestess. He hoped she had not yet retreated for the evening. As he was heading for the erected hospital tent where medics mended the combatants after their matches he noticed a group of wizards in his path. He figured they would ignore him, as usually all the magic wielders did when he came by. This time however they did not. As soon as the mages noticed him their conversation died away and they all stared at him with open hostility. When he came closer they crossed his path and blocked his way.
-Well well. – Said an elven mage with silvery hair and bright red robes as he stood in front of Morserv and eyed him with contempt. – If it isn’t Master Morserv. - The first mage of Greland crossed arms and eyed Morserv from head to toe, his lips thinning in a mocking smirk.
- How do you do Kaileus. – Morserv greeted politely. – Lapdogs – he added with a nod towards the other wizards. – I would love to sit by and chat, but I am in a hurry.
A human wizard behind Kaileus bared his teeth and raised a glowing fist ready to throw a spell.
-Careful… - the elven mage warned with a raised hand. – You wouldn’t want your magic to be stolen by this abomination, would you!
Morserv smiled and pushed his way through them.
-There’s not much to steal anyway. – He said over his shoulder as he walked on, feeling their gazes boring holes in his back.
Invane was quietly conversing with a medic when Morserv found her in the hospital tent.
For a while they exchanged blissfully empty words, until Morserv’s face finally grew stern when he looked down on her.
-Invane, the thing you have done, as generous as it is, it’s too much.
The priestess smiled and put a palm on his hand.
-You shouldn’t worry.
-You should. You could die.
She smiled and slowly shook her head.
-I have seen the time when I will die. The me then – my skin is wrinkled from the ages passed, and my head has lost its hair. Besides I am sure you agree Tyce deserved it. – He did. – And you would have done the same thing if you could. – He would.
-This curse of yours, sure seems handy once in a while.
It was the first time Morserv heard her laugh. It rang like silver bells – joyous and lovely sound.
-It is funny you should call it curse.
-Seeing in people’s hearts, I would find it troublesome.
-Just like a crow chasing the butterfly. – She said without realizing that she was speaking without meaning to him yet again. – Sometimes these lullabies won’t let me sleep. That’s why I keep my visions to myself.
Morserv pondered on how to respond, at length he just shrugged.
-It does seem the wise thing to do.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » пон юли 04, 2011 9:35 pm

The clear blue sky split apart by the roars of the cheering spectators when Garen Irdane entered the arena. Clad in his full Guardian armor he took slow and majestic steps towards the center. He kept his gaze straight ahead and his face firm. To say he disliked all this would be a filthy lie and he was not so righteous as to do so. He would however sooner sink in the depths of the Abyss than allow his face to stretch in an idiotic grin caused by all this fiasco.
The sight of his incoming opponent helped him quite a bit with that, for the form of Fargrim “The Grim” Tonebared was hardly one that caused laughters. The dwarf looked like a moving mountain in his black battle armor. His body was covered in the heavy steel from head to toe – dark menacing iron, whose glow was smothered to bleak grey shine. All pieces with jagged and harsh edges he could probably kill someone just by running him at a wall. Or through a wall altogether.
His helm came low down over his fierce gaze in the shape of bull’s head – one horn broken in half. At his hips dangled two vicious looking double edged axes and those were the only weapons seen on his body, if one would disregards his whole form for one.
His steps – each lifting a small cloud of dust as they hit the ground – met Garen halfway in the arena and stopped there. He shoved thumbs in his belt near the hilts of his axes and eyed the paladin.
-Ay there, pretty boy.- His voice gave off the deep sound of rocks grinding at each other.
-How do you fare, Fargrim. – Garen greeted him politely.
The dwarf spat on the ground and took a slow glance at the spectators. The distaste was obvious in his ravaged by battle scars face and he made no effort to hide it.
-Look at them. Stupid fools! Tearing their throats like crazy men. They wouldn’t last for two breaths on the fields of battle! – He shouted enraged and in anger raised his hands clenched in fists.
-Still, I would have them not taste what war is, even if it costs me prancing around like a peacock for their amusements few days every ten or so years.
The Grim grumbled low under his breath.
-Strong men and women are born in trial not in theater.
-Life is trial enough as it is.
-Bah! What would you or I know of simple life! It is not for the likes of us. – The dwarf growled again and hit clenched fist against his chest. – Let us go now, pretty boy, let us do all the appropriate poses and say all the right words. Let’s spill some more blood for these fools.
-I’ll try to not break you much. – He added with an evil grin and turned his back to Garen to take his distance.
-Likewise. – Garen said under his breath more to himself, to call forth his courage.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » вт авг 23, 2011 10:24 am

The crashing sound when the two combatants met axe to shield felt as painful as it sounded. Garen held his shield firm but could already feel the throbbing in his chest where his breastplate had dinted in from the blows. His shielding arm felt a little numb as the force of the hit resonated through his bones. The paladin had the sensation as if he had been half trampled over by mad bull and the worse part was the bull wasn’t discouraged by his steadfast resistance at all.
Fargrim spat some blood at the guardian's shield and pushed on, trying to throw the paladin off his ground. He had taken some blows himself but he shrugged them off as if it was child’s play. The dwarf was strong as a rock and this was how he usually won his fights. He could endure more blows that anyone he had ever met, in fact he would not even bother to block them. Eventually his opponents would tire, they always did, and then he would finish them off without mercy.
-You’ve become stronger. – He said through gritted teeth in Garen’s face.
-You’ve just gotten old. – Was all the paladin could manage and not lose his ground.
No one saw where the rock flew from before it hit Garen’s shoulder armor and bounced off to the ground. The two opponents froze in their brawl an when another rock hit Fargrim’s helm they disengaged and looked about in confusion. Who would inflict such insult upon the Realm’s greatest champion on this event. Garen’s gaze was drifting over to where his king sat when Fargrim pushed him hard against his chest. He stumbled few steps and ungraciously landed in the dirt. Before he could voice the oaths on his mind a huge crag plunged itself in the ground where they had stood.
The paladin’s mouth gaped open as he looked at the sky and saw thousands and thousands of black wings flapping away as all the winged inhabitants of the floating castle fled. The air darkened and it seemed as if it was snowing, but instead of snow – dust and rocks rained down over the arena.
There was a long harsh and deafening howl that drowned all the clamor of the spectators. The castle seemed to shudder.
Stunned dead Garen moved his eyes away from Loderon just to see Fargrim taking speed towards where the dwarven ruler stood, shouting something as he ran. The paladin got back on his feet and took a look around the arena. Nobles and commoners were clearly unsure if the mages were trying to impress them with another flashy performance. Everyone’s eyes were pinned to the floating castle. The storm of incoherent noises quickly turned into unified shriek of horror when Loderon began to fall upon their heads.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » вт окт 04, 2011 1:26 pm

Chunks of rock tore apart from the hill on which the castle stood and rained down over the valley. One of the city’s towers crumbled in itself and crashed down in a landslide of debris. The castle seemed to tilt to the side and hundreds of windows burst into pieces, which caused a glorious yet dreadful rainbow glisten as the sun touched the waterlike seeping glass. Another of the domed towers broke in two and flew over the rim of the city.
The paladin was already at king Bolvar’s side, shouting orders to his knights to lead their ruler and his retinue as far away as possible. He felt a pang of pride as he saw that all his guardians remained calm and composed and in orderly manner carried the retreat of Greland’s king.
The crowd had already turned into a raging mindless mess of human flesh madly trying to flee from the arena. People were stomped to death under the desperate urge of the mob to escape. Smeared in the blood of the innocents they had trampled into a bloody pulp they twisted their faces and screamed like possessed. The coiling wave of people pushed towards the exit of the arena washing the walls in a crimson dye.
Garen grabbed Adtaw by the shoulder and roared in his ear.
-Where is the priestess?!
-I do not know! – The knight shouted back and pushed hard with his shield against the madness of human bodies that threatened to smash them against the walls.
She had been at the king’s side, Garen thought feverishly and his heart sank. He turned back and scanned the area. Above the sea of wailing depraved faces he saw two lonesome figures standing well in the middle of the arena. One garbed in white, one in red.
Garen shouted desperate words that got lost in the chaos and with grim resolve resumed his position in the defense of his king.
-They will not escape in time. – Morserv said quietly and his voice broke.
-They will not. – Invane agreed in a whisper as she stood at his side and eyed the people. Her face cringed in pain and the priestess turned away.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » съб окт 15, 2011 12:54 am

-MAGIC! IS THIS NOT YOUR DOMAIN! WILL YOU LET YOUR MAGES DIE?! – The wizard shouted in dismay and threw his hands up in the sky – the falling castle now bloated the horizon. The seeping dust filled his mouth and eyes and black tears streaked his cheeks. His shoulders sagged and his whole form seemed to fold in itself, agony tearing his soul as he watched Loderon fall. The citadel has been home for him, held his youthful memories, his mentors, his dreams and hopes. Morserv’s hands slowly and helplessly sank at his sides, palms still turned up as if in a plea.
Suddenly he whirled on Invane.
-Did you not foresee this?!- He roared in anguish, his anger making his body shudder. – By the damned gods, if you knew of this I will end you where you stand!
The priestess’ ashen face paled even further.
-I did not. – She mouthed through trembling white lips shaking her head and again repeated the words with imploring tenacity. – I did not!
The mage’s face lost it’s coldness as his own words reached him and he understood how unfair and pointless they were.
- But Morserv, there is else, – Invane began but her words were cut off when a bright red comet erupted from somewhere within the valley and darted for the crumbling castle. As it reached the fortress the comet rolled in on itself becoming an enormous ball of smoldering flames and fury. A phoenix unfolded from it then and spread its wings beneath Loderon. Its magnificent wings of scorching feathers turned the rocks under the castle black as the fires licked against them. And the floating city of mages stood.
Morserv and Invane watched in awe as the goddess held onto the castle. The phoenix pulsated in triumphant waves of heat and gave out a victorious shriek that made another of Loderon’s towers to crumble down.
The wizard let out a sigh and at once blinked in surprise when he saw his breath come out in rolling clouds of mist.
A wave of cruel biting cold washed over their bodies, it passed right through them so piercing they felt their hearts skip a beat. The sensation was unpleasant and cold, deathly cold. The smell of gelid hollow graves filled their noses and nearly made them gag.
Morserv turned for Invane and saw her clothes, her hair and her eyelashes covered in a sleek crisp frost. Both of them backed away from this unforgiving presence that seemed to want to steal all the warmth of their breaths. As they retreated back they saw an enormous ghostly hand emerge from beneath them. Relentless the hand stretched for the sky. Instantly the ethereal fingers reached for the phoenix and wrapped around it. Fiery wings crushed and broke between them. Magic shrieked in godless frenzy as she struggled with the hand but finally it snapped in a fist around her. The roar she gave seemed to make the world break as the phoenix burst into a smoldering mess and Magic was gone from the world.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » нед дек 18, 2011 4:27 pm

Tyce bursted out of the tent barely dressed and his mouth gaped when he saw the floating castle crumbling over the valley. All the blood drained away from his face and he rushed toward the arena. He pushed past the people that ran away almost knocking him off his feet in their crazed flight. Tyce spotted the blocked entrance and with a curse charged at the walls of the arena draped with country flags from top to bottom. He threw himself against the closest one, sank his fingers in the firm cloth and started climbing up. As he reached the top he paused in horror at the sight of the colossal phoenix battling for Loderon. The rogue leapt over the edge and rushed down along the seats.
Morserv and Invane stared in unmasked terror as the Goddess of Magic was crushed into scarlet mist that seemed to linger in the air. Whatever arcane force held the ancient fortress was slowly fading away and Loderon resumed her fall towards the ground.
The wizard’s gaping mouth twitched as he just stood there almost devoid of his senses. Morserv was deaf to the world, he could hear nothing. Nothing except a small crack that could’ve been what was left of his heart. He felt his mind slowly slip away, hysteria creeping within him. He was going mad.
His whole being felt empty, his soul was lost. There was a void within him that he knew would remain empty until death claimed him. Feeling as an abandoned helpless child, tears streamed down his cheeks and he let out a howl of despair.
A voice pierced his comfortable numbling oblivion to the world. The voice called his name over and over and he let his eyes close dreaming it was the voice of his goddess.
Invane pulled at the wizard’s red robes as her calls were trying to pull him out of the stupor he was in. She shouted promises in his year, secrets he should never learn. The castle was closing in, it bloated the bright summer sun and cast dark shadow over the arena. The red mist suspended in the air touched to the city’s foundations and rained over the ground in burning drops of liquid fire.
The wizard grabbed Invane’s hand and she lifted her face to his. His eyes were dry now, focused again with determination. He gently pushed her away from him and turned his sight towards Loderon.
Morserv’s lips started moving and soon the priestess heard whispering words. Words of power. Whirling winds picked up at his feet and as if invisible hands pulled at his robes. His voice grew lauder and the winds howled stronger in response.
A step away from him Invane chanted her own prayer that somehow made the wizard’s words ring true. The priestess wrapped her mind around him and could feel his racing pulse fluttering at the sides of his neck, the thunderous beating of his heart. The pressure was dangerous and she sang to his heart, calmed it down, slowed the raging blood within his veins. She made sure he would not crumble down from the forces he called forth. The wave of force was so great, she could barely contain it. She let some of it flow through her it felt her feet sway. Invane extended hand towards him and touched the tips of her fingers to his shoulder. “Not so fast, not so much.” She urged him. His only answer were furious waves of power that threatened to crush them.
When Tyce finally stepped into the arena’s dusty ground he sensed a faint tug at the back of his mind. The slumbering demon coiled in the dark corner of his conscience was pulling away, attempting to escape, willing Tyce to turn back and run. The young man was oblivious to this and instead ran towards Invane.
Like a soft sigh a gust of wind brushed past him. Tyce stumbled as if he had taken a blow in his chest and could not move a muscle. His eyes widened when he felt all the light within him drain away. The radiant presence that guarded him was gone. His knees buckled and he fell on his back. He could only lie there, watch the castle fall over him and scream as the fiery rain kissed his skin.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

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CTAHuMuP
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от CTAHuMuP » чет дек 29, 2011 11:52 am

Въй, въй, въй, много добре описан апокалипсис! И смъртта на богинята. Браво, Чочи.
Какво е това уклон, накъде клони и като клони, пада ли?
За разлика от отмъщението, наредбата е ястие, което се сервира най-добре горещо.

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Ro#|#
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от Ro#|# » пет яну 06, 2012 10:51 am

Поздравления за старанието на Чо. Много рядко във форумите може да се срещне български писател, творящ директно на английски. Все още не съм прочел всичко, но мисля, че историята се получава доста интересна.

Мислила ли си за онлайн издаване за Киндъл?

А, и пряката реч на английски не изглежда като при нас.
Windhammer 2012 http://www.arborell.com/windhammer_prize.html
Гласувайте за българското... защото си заслужава!
http://www.arborell.com/datingawitch.pdf
http://www.arborell.com/hwarangandkumiho.pdf

ChoChan
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от ChoChan » пон яну 09, 2012 12:39 am

Мерси. Но не съм мислила за ел. издаване.
give me love so that I can kill...she's so unreal

t1sh086
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Re: The Artefact [NaNoWriMo]

Мнение от t1sh086 » нед яну 05, 2014 1:47 pm

Хора, този стил е уникален. Трябва да призная, че изгубих доста от времето си, за да чета, но ми направи уникално впечатление не само стилът, но и употребата на английски термини.
Нека бъдем добри един към друг.
Нека прощаваме и се усмихваме повече.
Една инициатива на http://www.victoria.bg

Отговори

Върни се в “Приказки Безкрай!”

Кой е на линия

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