PlaneShift

Fan Area => Roleplaying (Communitive Storywriting) => Topic started by: steuben on August 31, 2005, 09:43:11 pm

Title: the sketches
Post by: steuben on August 31, 2005, 09:43:11 pm
we should have surrendered. the quiet demon and his yliaki. i voiced my concerns to my commander.

"we out number then two to one," he had said. but, from what i had seen it was closer to three to two.

"they're mercenaries. just in it for the money. we blood them a bit and they'll go home." but mercenaries don't get hired if they don't win.

"besides, we've got the gods, and the cause on our side." the cause had put me here.

i went back to my men. we formed up to face them. we watched as they formed up. the demon and immediate command formed up opposite us. he always took the hardest targets for himself. i wasn't sure if i was flattered or scared.

the battle began. to those who have never been there it is impossible to describe. to those who have survived it, no explaination is needed.

we were being beaten back. the day was lost. i gave the order for my men to retreat. i was going to try to hold the demon's yliaki back for a few seconds longer. some of my yliaki stayed with me. i ordered them to leave they stayed.

i don't know where the fire blast came from. i guess it really doesn't matter. there is no such thing as friendly fire. those loyal few didn't deserve what happened to them. but, the only reason i survived was because they sheilded me fromthe blast, most of it.

the advancing forces marched over and around me. i simply lay there. the pain of my injuries kepting from passing out. but, the also kept from full consciousness. i heard voices, felt hands.

one of the voices had the tone of command to it. i felt my body try to come to attention. i couldn't understand the words. but, the part of me that was a solider knew the tone. the reflexes that i had trained into responded. another voice appeared. it too had authority to it, but a different kind. the commanding voice stopped, or perhaps it merely changed. as a soothing coolness enveloped me, i thought this must be death.

i awoke in a bed. i hurt over much of my body. there were curtains on all sides of me. i looked up into the thick coarse fabric of a tent. i heard a pair of voices.

"he'll live. he'll walk, perhaps with a limp. we couldn't save his arm."

the command voice spoke again. the words weren't quite distinct. but that tone of command wasn't there.

"we tried sir. but the glyphs aren't magic. he'll keep it. but, it'll never work again. the damage was just too severe."

the command voice again. this time it was supportive, comforting.

"thank-you sir. perhaps someday."

they continued to talk. i reached up with my right hand. i could my left arm, but i couldn't move it. i felt the bandages on it. they covered the whole of my arm. they continued along the left side of my body. i smiled. the scars would do interesting things to my fur. i dropped my arm back by me side. the curtain parted. the medic came in.

"ahh. you're awake. you've got a visitor. if you feel up to it," the medic said..

i nodded stiffly. the bandages on my head inhibited my movement. the quiet demon walked in.

"colonel viscosa," i said.

he nodded in responce, "captain."

"how many made it."

"most of those who made the retreat."

i felt comfort knowing that my yliaki had survived.

"yours was the last section to fall," he continued. "your yliaki are a credit to you." he paused. "i'm wondering. why did those few stay with you?"

i shoke my head slightly. "i don't know. wanted to buy a bit more time for their friends. misplaced loyalty to me. i'll have to wait to ask them."

"why did you stay?"

"i couldn't get them out of it at the start. i could at least try and help them get out at the end."

he shook his head. "loyalty for that is never misplaced."
Title: sketch 2
Post by: steuben on October 17, 2005, 09:58:15 pm
i was a miller's daughter. and i worked the mill, with my father and brother. together we could set the great mill stones. it was a good life. but, eventually father died. we sold the mill. brother married and they run a shop. me, i enlisted.

a mercenary regiment was in town. they had camped outside of town. but, their recruiter had setup in one of the taverns. i can't say i planned it very well. i padded out my clothes . i went to the tavern. there i hung around for a bit. after a few hours and a few drinks, i went up to the seargent standing by the stairs.

he was older and fatter then i had expected. the scar on his face drew my eye to his one good eye, the other hidden behind a patch. in his eye there was a speck of cold hard ice. i guess have that look now, too.

"lookin' to sign up, eh?" he said.

i nodded

"great. we can always use big strapping lads such as yourself. but, have ye head of the benefits of joinin' the regiment?"

i shook my head.

"the fame, the glory, the money. now, i'm just a seargent, so i've only got just a bit saved by. but, the officers, now they's rich like princes.

"but, the best part is, you've got a job for as long as you want it. aah, i see that got yer interest. alright then, head on up. the elle, lieutenant's second door on the right. knock first though."

i stood infront of the door and took a deep breath. i raised my hand to knock.

"yes. come in," came through the closed door.

i opened the door and stepped in. behind the table was a youngish demonarian. he looked and back down to the papers he was working on.

"sit down, miss," he siad gesturing to the chair.

"what?" i blurted. "who are you calling miss? if this --"i tried to a get a threatening edge into my voice.

"miss," he looks up from his papers. his eyes focus on me through his glasses. a clear edge is in his voice. "you can either sit down, or you can walk out the door. do _not_ be fool enough to waste either of our times."

i sat down.

"good," he nods.

over the course of the next half hour, asked question after question. then he asked the last one.

"why are you signing up?"

i paused, not sure what to answer.

"take your time."

"it seems like the best job around," i said.

he nodded, merely taking notes. he copied a few pieces of information from other papers to one paper. he signed it and handed it over to me.

"you have until the second hour on thursday to think it over. if you change your mind simply don't show up. i will basically be like it never happened. but, i would prefer it if you let me know before then.

"if you decide to go through with it. be at the camp by that time, with that letter. bring at most 2 cubic feet of personal effects."

he stood up.

"i hope to see you there," he said offering me his hand.

i stood up and shook it.

"and miss," he said, a small smile on his lips. "you won't have to pad anything out. as long as you pull your weight we don't care." he pushed the glasses up his nose. in his eyes i caught the same speck of ice. "even if you don't, it doesn't really matter."

i left the tavern to pack and to think. at least, i tried to think about it. on the first hour on thursday i stood at the gate sentry with the paper folded in my hand.
Title: sketch 3
Post by: steuben on November 28, 2005, 12:15:32 am
the lieutenant walks through the flap of the tent. the first thing she notices is the smell. the smell of cinnamon and cloves. near one wall, close to the bed, is a cauldron. the fire glyph underneath shedding its warmth into the tent. she walks over and the lifts the lid.

the suden cloud of steam carries with it a burst of aroma. the smell carries with it the feeling of home and family. both of which she has never known. she replaces the lid.

turning around she takes in more of the tent. against the far wal is something that would have graced some of the finer parlours in the big cities. flanking it are two collapsable stools. she walks over to look at it.

the light wood surface is inlaid in a hexagon pattern of darker wood. the surfaces have been varnished richly. the surfaces show wear but not damage. she runs a hand over it.

"it's called acaycia, lieutenant bix." a voice says from behind her.

she turns around. she comes to attention, before she consciously relealizes who has arrived.

"at ease lieutenant," he continues. "i could teach you, if you want."

"it looks hard, commander." she replies

he shakes his head as he hangs the heavy winter cloak on the central post of the tent.

"no more or less then our job." he gestures towards the stools. "sit down." he takes off the sword and sheath from around his waist. he hangs it from the central post as well. the sword gives the feeling of a hunting beast having returned to its lair.

she sits on one of the stools at the acaycia board. he walks over to the cauldron. after lifting the off the cauldron, he laddles the mixture into a pair of earthenware mugs.

walking to the acaycia board he says, "congratuations on your promotion to lieutenant."

he places one of the mugs in frint of her on the board.

"here, this will take the edge off the cold."

"thank you, sir." she picks up the mug and smells it. again she gets the feeling of home and family in the smell of the spices. she also notes the scent of alcohol. she sips it.

he puts his mug down after having taken a mouthful. he sits down in the other stool.

"so what so you think of being an offcier so far?"

"more work then i thought."

he crooks an eyebrow. "too much work?"

she shakes her head quickly. "no. not at all. just more."

he nods. "thought officers had it easy? we work just as hard." he sips the mug. "used to think generals had it easy. closer i get the less i think that. but, now heads of state. they've got the cushy job."

"and if we ever get there, we'll see that they too work just as hard." she says with a smile.

"let's hope not," he says with a laugh. "hate to see another good fantasy ruined by reality." he takes a another swallow from the mug.

"but, if it does feel like a lot of work, ask your seargent, your captain, the other lieutenant for advice. they will have some direction, and then keep your own council."

they continue to talk for a while longer.

she pauses outside the tent flap. the guard outside the tent notes her position and little else. she fastens up her cloak. the harsh cold brings out her breath in a silver fog. a few tendils of scent of spice have followed her out.

she takes a few steps and stops. she looks around her. the tents. the frozen hard ground that would be a field of mud come spring. the multitude of ylaki as they go about their various activities. the memory of the smell comes back. maybe she does know home and family after all.
Title:
Post by: sasek on November 29, 2005, 10:24:40 pm
i couldn\'t move my eyes from the screen :)
i can\'t wait to read some more from you :D
Title: sketch 4
Post by: steuben on December 08, 2005, 12:12:05 am
the three ylaiki sat huddled around the table. the warehouse they had chosen hadn't been used for years. table had been simple been abandoned in the warehouse. this was a location in which they should have felt fairly safe. but, still they huddled.

the bundled candles on the table hid more with the cast shadows, then the light revealed. but, in the shadows several corse fabric sacks can be barely seen.

"he's late," one of them said

"so," another responded

"he's always late."

"not like he's walking away from his share of the haul," the third said.

"still. i don't trust him," the first said.

"such a shame." a lemur said brightly as he arrived at the table. "now, isn't it geelaki*? becuase i most certainly trust you."

the three started and reach for concealed weapons. they stoppd when they realize who it was. they settled back in their chairs. the lemur sits in the forth chair.

"and trust, geeliaki," he continued with a broad smile, "is what profitable business relationships are built. now, isn't it?"

the first yliaki to speak watches the lemur's hands. hands and wrists that held surprising strength despite their slender appearance. hands that had ripped a guard's throat out two nights previous.

"didn't want him sounding the alarm," had been the unasked for responce. he had killed many yliaki before, some for less reason. guards he preferred to let live. mostly because it made life easier later. but, the causal seeming brutality had disconncerted hime. the image of the guard collapsing, blood flowing freely between the guards hands, would be with him the rest of his life.

as the lemur settles into the chair, the third yliaki, a menki, looked at him carefully. there was something about the lemur that tended to raise the hair on the back of his neck. he suppressed that as much as he could. he considered checking the locks and baricades that he had set on the doors and windows of the warehouse. he decided against it when he recalled the way the lemur had seemed to have walked through the walls.

he glanced at the lemur's right hand. around the little finger of that hand is a band of rust. it's that ring, he realized. it doesn't fit with the rest of him, the looks, the highly tailored clothes, his manners, his other jewlery. the one visible flaw. it's that flaw that is slightly unnerving.

"and such a profitable business relationship it has been," the lemur continued. "but, geeliaki, we must bring this particular business to a close."

the second yliak to speak noded. "yes. you brought the portion of the haul." there was an unasked question in the statement.

the lemur gestured to the sacks in the shadows. one of the sacks settled slightly. it, and the few near it hadn't been there before. but, they looked like they always had been there.

"yes. about that," the second yliaki said. "we've been talking. and half and that one item. well it seems a bit much. considering we did most of the heavy work."

"i see." a note of disappointment was in the lemur's voice. "what would you consider more fair?" apprehension replaced the disappointment.

"well, whatever else the item is yours."

the lemur seemed to relax slightly with that statement.

"but, the rest, well, we were thinking an even four way split." he smiled a bit. "even through we all trust each other. let this," he places the item on the table, "show our good faith."

the lemur smiled back. there was something insettling about the smile. i've got all the cards here. if it came to cases we could take him three to one. so why does he think he has the better hand.

"yes. perhaps i did get a bit greedy," the lemur said. "i thought the noteriety, and other such things, that came with a job such as this would have been balance enough. but, yes, i can see how equal shares can be considered better." he smiled brightly. "but, none the less, i'm glad my trust in you three wasn't misplaced. when i realized just how much you had left with... well, as you can imagine that i was a bit worried. i'm glad to see that it was an empty worry."

"heh. imagine that."

"but," the lemur leaned forward,"i doubt that i can agree to such an arrangement." his smile crystalized. "you see, i must maintain mine own reputation. and to maintain it i cannot allow a deal to be renogitated at such a late date. especially, since you knew going in that this would be especially profitable for you."

"yeah. we'd figured you'd say something like that. so here is our offer. either a four way split with us, or a three way split without you."

the other two yliaki shifted slightly. the lemur settled back in the chair. he seemed to have naturally found a shadow. it fell across his face. it made the smile all the brighter. it had much more of a predatory hint then it did before. the lead yliaki shifted slightly. he was beginning to feel like the floor is about to fall out from under him.

"i see." the lemur placed his hands flat on the table. "but. i'm afraid i'm going to have to decline, and stick to our orginal agreement."

"yeah, figured you say that too."

with that the first and third yliaki leaped for the lemur. the second began to get out of his chair. there is the sound of breaking bones and flesh. the body of the first yliaki falls to the floor. his still beating heart laying by his side. the third slumps to the floor from the table. he is unmarked except for the double twist in his neck. the second is sitting back in the chair a dagger is sticking up of his chest, just above the heart. he reached up to pull it out.

"you'll only die faster if you pull it out," the lemur said  as he walked around the table. he tried to wipe the blood off that covered his left arm to the elbow. "i guess i'll have to replace it. oh well. it was such a nice shirt, too."

he pulled up a chair infront of the yliak and sat down. he looks at the dagger.

"ah. i see you've decided to live just a little bit longer." he looks up and into the ylaik's eyes. "i could see that you were beginning to pick up on something. it is most unfortunate that you were not a bit faster." he shakes his head. "intelligent yliaki are so hard to find. but, i will explain it too you. you see it centres around trust and expectations. i did trust you three. i trusted you to be the greedy criminals that you appeared to be." he shrugs. "i guess, that i wouldn't have been displeased, if you had violated that trust. but, we shall never know. from that trust i could expect certain actions from you. and those expectations led us all to here."

as the the yliak began to loose consciouness, he thinks, laanx was beautful too, once. the lemur stood up. he walks back round the table. during the violence the item had been knocked open. he picked it up from the table. it was a ring mold. the pattern is that of a simple scalloped ring. he snapped it closed, and walked out of the warehouse. he whistled a spritely march.

-----------------
geelaki- noun, gentle yliaki. equivalent to gentlemen/gentleladies
Title:
Post by: zanzibar on December 11, 2005, 08:43:04 am
Punctuation and spelling would make it more readable.
Title:
Post by: steuben on December 11, 2005, 11:10:15 pm
punctuation, like capital letters?
Title:
Post by: Farren Kutter on December 11, 2005, 11:29:28 pm
Yes, punctuation, with capitals and periods/question marks/exclamation points in the proper places. And commas and stuff. All of that stuff.
Title: sketch 5
Post by: steuben on May 16, 2006, 04:41:15 am
the wind whistles around the hut. the air holds the promise of a storm in the next few days. two woman sit near the stove, on opposite sides of the sandbox. sticking out of the sand were various rat bones. the old woman stares frowning at the bones.  the young woman looks at the elder

"well, what do they say," the younger asks.

"patience child," the elder says. "reading the bones is never easy." she gestures over the snad and the bones. "but, these are difficult for even that."

she points to three bones, one of which is standing straight up. "these, great strength im conflict with itself. here," she points to two ribs crossing each other. "good and evil intertwined. great amounts of both. here," a vertebrae near knuckle bones. "a gentle soul. no not gentle, exactly." she shakes her head. "it slips away as i read it."

she takes a deep breath.

"two others follow him," her eyes aren't focused on the sand. "no. not follow, they are with him. part of him, yet separate. a shade follows  him. always watching. eye, saphire eyes."

she shudders.

"running, iding escaping, only his footsteps in the snow."

her voice becomes hoarse, halting, "iron. fire. blood. steel. ash. trees."

she sags. the young woman starts to rise from her seat. the elder waves her back down. she shudders and straightens.

"put some more coal on the fire, child." her voice regaining its normal tone.

the young woman stands and puts a small shovelful of coal into the stove.

the elder looks up at here. "this is no easy read child. you'd best go home. you'll have your answer in the morning."

"but,"

"no buts," an edge to the elders voice. she looks at her and relaxes. "child, the bones only hint at what they see. and i don't think they know what they are seeing. it'll take time. but, you'll have your answer. go home. morning will come sooner then waiting here."

the young woman puts on her cape. she leaves closing the door firmly on her way out. the elder woman turns over the bone in the centre of the sand box. inscribed on the under side is life. she frowns as she sees the bone buried in the sand, beneath it. she settles back into her chair and looks at the ceiling. inscribed on the bone, buried in the sand, is death.


Title: hidden, forbidden, holy ground
Post by: steuben on June 28, 2006, 01:58:20 am
the two yliaki walk into the main body of the temple. they looked around. there was little decoration and a thick layer of dust. a complex braid was carved in to the stone on three of the walls. the fourth wall was filled with six large stain glass windows. beneath the windows out from the wall is a statue of a young woman.  she is sculputed wearing a long dress and a bulky sweater. her hands are clasped together infront of her. infront of the statue are three large iron braizers.

one of the yliaki walks over to the wall. looks at the braid, then at the floor.

"georg, i think this place was carved out of the rock as one piece."

"what are you talking about, jeos?" georg says.

"look at the floor, the walls, there are no seams."

"not like you can tell under all this dust."

georg walks up to the braizers. in the middle one is a single glowing coal.

"so where would the treasure be then?"

"don't know."

the sound of a slow tapping of wood on stone begins to echo through out the chamber. it seems to come from every direction, slowly growing louder. georg draws his sword, and tries to look in every direction at once.

an old lemur steps into an alcove. the echoing suddenly stops. he leans heavily on a wooden cane. he looks at the two yliaki.

"you won't be needing that," he says with a wave of his free hand.

georg slowly resheathes his sword.

"we thought this temple was abandoned," jeos says.

"it was. a very, very long time ago," the lemur says. he steps out of the alcove. the cane taping on the stone with each step. he doesn't leave a trail in the dust. "shorty after her act of defiance." he gestures to the statue. "this is the last temple in her name."

georg blinks. he realizes that he sword has been resheathed. he tries to pull it out, but it is stuck.

jeos walks over. he sees the single burning coal in the centre.

"then, who keeps this coal going," jeos asks.

the lemur shrugs. "i don't know. once these braziers were filled with coals. one for each of those who believe in her. now his is the last."

"and why are you here?" georg says.

"i'm waiting. waiting for the chance to undo what may have been a mistake." the lemur looks up at the face of the statue. "an act that out weighed her actions." he turns and heads back to the alcove that he entered from. "go home. there is nothing here of value to you."

"so you can have the treasure to yourself?" georg blurts.

the lemur stops and turns back around. he fixes georg in a hard stare. "and what were you told was hidden here?" the lemur's voice has a hard edge to it. "what did you think you would find here?" georg tries to move but can't.

"the greatest treasure of a dead god," jeos says.

the lemur looks at jeos. he turns and continues to the alcove. "it is there in the brazier."

jeos walks over to the brazier. georg begins to move his hand towards his sword.

"don't be a fool," the lemur says as he continues on. the tapping sound fades away in the dark of the passage. there is no trail in the dust.

jeos looks at the burning coal. he looks up at the face of the statue. he laughs in. the sound seems to fill the room.
"may he still be there when you awaken," he whispers gently to the statue.

jeos places a hand on georg shoulder. "come. let's go. there is nothing here that we can use."

"but," georg says.

"there is nothing here for us. what use do we have for the belief of one person."
"


Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: DracoDanube on June 28, 2006, 02:51:01 pm
Steuben,

You obviously love this stuff  :thumbup:

Do you sketch them out on a storyboard?

They would work well with graphics, a comic strip  :woot:
Title: watching the unfolding haos
Post by: steuben on July 16, 2006, 03:50:50 am
the two klyros sat in the underwater grotto. the feild  of plants waved gently in the currents and eddies formed by the grotto. the plants were simply bulbs the size of a large apple on a slender stalk.

"this deep the rays of the azure sun reach but barely." the much elder of the two klyros said. "but even so these plants have found the will to live."

the younger klyros simply nods.

gradually the dim light from the azure sun fades away, till even on the surface it would be dark. the youth moves in the darkness to start a light. the elder places a hand on his stilling him. in the darkness movement becomes appearent. darker shadows move along the surface of the rock and through the water itself.

"don't move," the elder whispers.

the shadows settle among the plants as if too waiting. then the bulbs on the plants slowly open, revealing a faint glow in each. the faint glow suggests bright colours on the spines of the creatures sitting among the plant. the younger swallows, recognizing the creatures. their spines contain a powerful paralyitic posion. if he had moved while they were congregating he could have been pricked and slowly suffocated.

the bulbs begin to release a pollen in to the water. the pollen too glows. the colour of the light shifts from blue through to red. it drifts on the currents and eddies forming complex and shifting shapes of colour and light. after a short while the creatues swim off the ground through the water and back down. they cut tunnels through the patterns that quickly swirl and fill in, intensifing the colours and patterns.

this continues for nearly an hour before the pollen fades. gradually the creatures swim away. the last few taking complex leaps through the last of the pollen. when the last of the creatures has left the two kylros sit in the slowly fading glow of the petals.

"that was, incredible," the younger says.

"yes," the elder says. he strikes a light in the water, washing the light away of the petals. "it is always good to sit and watch the unfolding hoas."
Title: sketch 8
Post by: steuben on November 19, 2006, 03:07:16 am
crisse looks up from weeding the garden. the stranger has paused at the gate. he has two swords. one is rolled in a blanket, strapped to the bottom of his pack. the second is strapped to the side of it. he lifts the hood of his cloak back. crisse stands and dusts his hands on his pants. he glances back at his daughter weeding at the far end of the garden.

"what can i do for you, stranger?" he says as he walks to the gate.

"i'm looking for the crisse homestead." the stanger says. "i was told that it was along this road."

crisse looks the stranger over. he appears as a man that has been on both ends of violence. but, he stood there openly waiting an answer.

crisse nods. "you're at it. i'm crisse"'

"i have something for you daughter," the stranger says.

crisse frowns. the stranger sets his pack on the ground and unstraps the sword from the side.

"your wife wanted her to have this when she was old enough." he holds the sword up, in its sheath, the belt wraped around it.

crisse takes the sword and looks at it. he turns and looks at his daughter still working in the garden.

"yes, she did." he looks back at the stranger. "thank you for bringing it back. she took it when she left." he closes his eyes. his hand clenches over the sword. "when she left, i knew i wasnt going to see her again." he opens his eyes again; his hand still clenched on the sword. "were you there, when she..."

the stranger closes his eyes for a moment. he opens them again. "yes. i was there. she didn't suffer. her last words were of you two. she missed you both terribly. more then anything she wanted to be here with you." he looks at the young girl in the garden. he looks down. "she should have stayed here."

crisse shakes his head. "perhaps. but then she wouldn't have been the woman that i loved and married. you were there. you know what you were fighting against. why you were fighting." crisse lowers the sword down by his side. "even if i didn't know, or really understand."

the stranger starts to pick up his pack. crisse looks the stranger up and down, again. something in his appearence jogs an old memory from his childhood.

"thank-you." crisse says with a smile. "you were with her at the end. you were a good friend to her, when she needed friends the most. i owe you for that, and for bringing this."

the stanger settles his pack on his shoulders. he shakes his head. "no you don't." a note of sadness creeps into his voice. "i am paying part of what i owe." he turns and begins to leave. "take care of it and yourself."

"you, too. and i will." crisse says.

he watches as the stranger makes the turn on the road, and out of sight. he turns and begins to walk into the the house. his daughter walks up to him.

"who was that," she asks.

"a good friend of your mother's." he looks down at the sword and then at his daughter. "and someone to who we owe a great debt."
Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on January 08, 2007, 07:27:29 pm
he sat and turned his helmet over in his hands. he looked at the others in the wagon with him. two of the guards with him were having a very technical argument over arrow construction. but, the argument was ritual rather than debate. it would stop once they got to their destination. it would be picked up again where they stopped later. others appeared to sleep or preened their armour and equipment.

he looked down at his helmet as it rotated through his hands. he pauses the rotation fpr a moment. the seam of a weld is facing him. that strike had left him seeing triple and down for three days. two weeks less then the healers would have liked.

he looked back at the two arguing. in the end it didn't matter the style of the arrow that you used. it sometimes didn't matter which one the other guy used. you could be killed because of your mistake, someone else's, or just simply because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

he started turing the helmet over in his hands again. he knew he was afraid. but it was abstract. he didn't feel the fear. sometimes, afterwards, he felt it. never before, never during. not even if he knew he was going into the biggest ratf_ ever.

he smiled grimly. "that's the problem with the 15th octarch's guards. we keep getting dropped into ratf_s. until one day the other guy walks out, and we don't."

he stood up as the wagon halted. the arguement stopped mid-point. the others stood as well. he put on his helmet.

"but, they'll know they've been in a fight," he continued the thought.

he turned and took his weapons from the stowage nets. there was a rap and one of the walls fell away. they lept down. the hobnails of their boots struck sparks off the cobble stones.

the streets and adjacent buildings had been cleared by the regular guards. the building at the cenre of the clearing looked like it was hunkered down against the onslaught it knew was coming.

he looked at the building. his captain ran over the breifing again. nothing of note had changed, sometimes it did. usually it wasn't for the better. it never changed what they did, just the amount of work they had to do. the briefing ended and they went to their assigned positions. he stood waiting for the go signal.

he knew he was anxious. but he didn't feel it. the deep red of the flare popped in the sky. he was moving before he consciously saw the flare. he dashed to the building. he hit the door with his shoulder. it opened with a crash and a shower of splinters and debris. as he went through the doorway, he drew his sword.

he felt nothing.
Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on January 23, 2007, 03:23:49 am
the young demorian walked into the tavern. he looked around furtively. he walked up to the bar and whispered to the barkeep. he didn't even pause in he polishing of the mug. he simply nodded towards one corner. in the corner lounged diaboli.  the layers of fabric she wore hid everything. but, the play of the fabric as she moved suggested far more then simple nudity could. the demorian swallowed and began to walk over. the two large, well dresses yliaki that stood near her table moved to block his path. she laughed at their actions.

"boys, boys, relax." her voice husky and suggestive. "if i have to worry about one as timid as this, then there would be little that you could both do."

the two yliaki returned to where they stood. she gestured the demorian forward.

"come, sit." she gestured to the chair opposite her. "don't worry about them." she continued as the demorian sat down. "they are protective of me. there are those that would wish to learn my skills by other means. but, they knoiw their job well, and i give them reign to do it well."

she gestured dismissing the subject. the movement seemed that it would expose something, but only showed another layer of smooth fabric beneath the visible layers.

"you know my price?"

the demorian placed three circles in a small bowl. the thick velvet cushioned that sound. "i-i-i did some research before coming." his voice threatened to break at the end of his sentance.

"relax, relax." she gestured again. the play of the fabrics again threaten to expose her, but only showed more fabric. "i don't bite. well, much." she laughs slightly.

"but..." she gestured again.

a lemur came over with a tray and placed on the table. on the tray is a plate with a small pasty on it, a fork and a glass of white wine. the demorian looked at them both before picking up the fork. the diaboli noded. the demorian broke off a peice of the pasty with the fork. he placed it in his mouth. he closed his eyes as he savoured the flavour.

"try it with the wine," the diaboli suggested.

the demorian broke off another piece. this time he sipped the wine, after placing the piece in his mouth. again he closed his eyes as he savoured the flavour. he quickly ate the rest of the pasty.

"i-i thought it was rumor." the demorian said a while after finsihing. "exaggeration. but i see now that they are true."

"yes," the demorian said., pride seemed to drip from her voice. "they come from all over yliakium. they all come because, with me they can have the best secks in the world."

Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on August 28, 2007, 03:51:06 am
the captain watched as the demon gently laid her body down and stood, picking up his sword.  the army began to gather round the demon and the woman on the ground. he looked at the woman.

"you two," he told off two soliders."carry her back to the others."

"which ones?" one of the soliders said.

the captain looked over at the demon. "ours for the moment."

the demon focused on the captain. covered in blood and mud, he looked much like his name sake. the captain caught site of the ring on the demons finger, despite the blood and mud the ring still gleamed.

"the marshal wishes to talk with you. it will be simpler if there aren't any distractions."

the demon didn't respond and simply looked towards the clot of yliaki moving through the crowd. the marshall's guard broke though the ring surrounding the demon. the marshall stepped in to the open space. his uniform was bright, crisp and clean. it only showed the mud on the pants that had accumulated in the walk there.

"so this is the fearsome demon," the marshall said. "the yliak that has held whole armies at bay. i somehow expected someone taller. but, no matter. general viscosa, i come with a proposition for you. you are defeated. your forces are dead or fleeing. you are surrounded. surrender to me, and you will live. i can't promise that you will be comfortable." he chuckled. "actually, i promise that it will be uncomfortable. but," he gestured around, "considering the alternative not a bad offer."

he waited for a responce. the demon simply looked at him. a note of frustration appeared in the marshal's face and voice. "you have lost. you have nothing. surrender to me!"

again he waited. again the demon simply looked at him. "why do you continue to fight me?!" rage now apparent in his voice.

"for those who stand behind us," the demon responded quietly.

the captian looked over the demon to the villages beyond. he looked behind himself to the villages. the marshall turned in full fury. "kill him," he shouted. the clot of his surrounding gaurds moves back to the camp.

the captain raised his sword and takes a half step forward. the others close in. the captain paused. the others moved around him. he droped his sword. the captain turned and walked away. the sound of the demon fighting feicely reached him. the combat seemed to be in his favour. he didn't regret fighting the demon. he regreted fighting against him.
Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on December 15, 2007, 05:20:37 am
"no," the diaboli cried as she stumbled back against the wall

"come now,' the ynnwn placed his hand against the wall bloocking her one escape. his two companions stood blocking the other. "we protect you when the monster come, don't we?"

she nods.

"so you want to make sure that they don't get you, right?"

she nods again.

"well, what could a pretty little thing like you have that you could offer us to make sure that the monsters don't get you?" he leers at her.

she shakes her head. "nothing."

"really? i can think of one thing."

he reaches for her. she slaps him on across cheek. he stands up straight.

"really now," he raises his hand to strike her. before he can start the swing his wrist is grabbed. he starts the swing before he realizes it. the force swings him halfway around. the ylian holding his wrist releases it as the ynnwn turns the rest of the way around. his compagions spring alert when they notice the arrival.

"so who are you?" the ynnwn says. "and what business do you have interfering with the guards' business?"

the ylian just stands there looking at the ynnwn.

"the quiet type, huh? maybe this will loosen your tongue?" he hits the ylian the the stomach twice and then throws an upper cut. ylian flys and lands backwards in the mud.

"::nameless::" she cries as the ylians lands.

the ynnwn turns back to her. "now where were we?"

"boss?" one of the other two says.

"what?" he turns and sees the ylian standing behind him. "ha, can't take a hint?" the ylian looks at him. "well maybe something a little less obvious." the other two had slipped round behind the ylian. the ynnwn nods. the other two each drive a punch to the kidneys. the ylian staggers to his knees. the ynnwn steps to the side and drives a roundhouse kick between the shoulders. when the ylian hits face first in the mud the ynnwn steps on the back of his head. "now, will i have to make myself clearer?"  he takes he foot of the ylian, and turns back to the diaboli. "now that, that is finsihed."

he catches the ylian rising out of the corner of his eye. the ylian rises up looking like something the mud itself had spawned. "very well," the ynnwn growls. he pulls out a dagger. the other two follow suit. "perhaps i shall have to make my point."

"no, i go," the diaboli.

"too late missy," the ynnwn says.

the ylian simply looks at her. sensing a distraction the ynnwn strikes. the ylian sidesteps the strike. the other two move in. he dodges the two of them. the three try to hit him. he dances around them before striking on of them that sends him hard enough against the wall to shatter the plaster. he slides to the ground unconscious. the other two shout and try to attack again. their attacks are more furious. the ylian still dodges. he seems to bend in awkward ways to avoid the blades. again he strike. the other compagin flys to the wall near the other. the shattered plaster falls to the ground in a white cloud. the ynnwn pauses and tries to strike. the ylian grabs the dagger hand of the ynnwn and pushes it to the side. his other hand grabs the ynnwn by the throat. the ynnwn drops the dagger and tries to pry the hand off. the ylian squeezes and begins to lift the ynnwn off the ground. the ynnwn scrabbles franticly at the hand holding his neck.

the diaboli rushes over. "::nameless:: no put him down," she cries. "please."

a long sword slides beside ::nameless::'s neck. "i do beleive she has a good idea," a calm voice says.

::nameless:: lowers the ynnwn to the ground. when he releases the neck, the ynnwn slumps to the ground gasping and weezing. he turns around. the guard behind him sheathes his sword.

"i am leiutenant awaru. you appear to have assulted three guards." his visage turns cold. "and were making good way on killing one of them. do you have anything to say for yourself?"

::nameless:: looks at the awaru.

"sir. this is ::nameless::," the diaboli says. "he doesn't speak. these three were about to... take advantage of their position. ::nameless:: tried to stop them. when he did they attacked him. it wasn't until they came at him with daggers that he fought back."

awaru looks at ::nameless::. "yes, quite effectively it would seem... maybe too effective." he looks at the diiaboli. "you are?"

"feiy enthiy."

looking back at ::nameless:: he says "and where are you living?"

"he's up at claz's farm," feiy says. "he works up there. sometimes he helps out at drommand's smithy."

awaru looks at the three sprawled on the ground. "it would seem that it will be a while before i get their side of the story. very well." he fixes ::nameless:: with a cold look. "don't leave town. i will want to talk to you later." his look softens a bit. "go home both of you. i'll deal with these three."
Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on March 15, 2008, 04:30:08 am
the lemur steps out of the carriage. "now, now ladies. i shant be too long," he says inside. "just a quick piece of buisiness and we shall be on our way."

one of the yliaki makes a moue. "but sully..." she says.

the lemur chuckles. "you've been paid for the whole night. a little while with nothing to do shall not reduce your pay."

"yes, come yusa. we can make our own fun for a while."

the lemur chuckles again. "don't tire yourselves out. we have yet a full evening ahead of us." he closes the door to the carriage with a florish.

 he walks up to the door of a well appointed house. he knocks on the door, there is a band of rust on the little finger of his hand. the door opens.

"yes?" the doorman says.

"sulus govannon. i have an appointment."

"very good. please come in." the door is opened wide and sulus steps in. the door man closes the door behind him. "may i take your jacket?"

"yes, please." he slides out of his jacket and hands it too the doorman. he hangs it in the closet.

"this way sir. they are waiting for you." the doorman gestures down the hall. they walk down the hall a short ways. he opens a door. "in here sir."

sulus steps into a darkened room. the doorman closes the door behind him. six highbacked chairs can be made out in the darkness. a shadowy form sits in each of the,. a seventh chair, completing the circle, sits in a pool of light. a small table with a small chest, and a scroll, stands next to it.

"come in, sit down." a shadow sitting in one of the chairs. gestures to the chair in the light. sulus sits down. "in that chest is your pay."

sulus picks up the chest and opens it. the gems glitter in the light. he looks at the gems. he picks out a small diamond and places it on the table. he closes the chest and places it next to the diamond. "a little bit over. but, this shall balance it as near as one can with such things."

the doorman comes in with a silver tray, a pot and cup on it. "tea, sir?"

"yes. please," sulus says. as the doorman pours the tea, "could you send this out to my driver?" sulus gestures to the chest.

"yes, of course." the doorman places the chest on the tray, and carries it out.

"now," one of the seated shadows says after the door has closed. "we understand that you have extensive knowledge of summoning."

sulus nods and sips the tea.

"we are seeking to summon a unique creature."

sulus nods and again sips the tea.

"we will reuire the utmost discretion," one of the other seated shadows said.

"my pay will purchase a great deal of discretion." sulus focuses on the shadow and grins slightly. the shadow shifts uncomfortably.

"that scroll contains an overview." the first voice says. sulus picks up the scoll and reads through it.

"a demon..." he titters. "everything i've done, and still they called him 'the demon.'" he looks up at the shadows. "demons are ... interesting things. if summoned you think you will be able to control it?"

"yes," the first shadow says. "we have considered that. measures have been taken."

"very well." sulus stands up. "let's see if i can not finish what you have started." the shadows stand up after him.

"yes, of course." the lead shadow says. "this way."

it walks to a corner of the room. as the shadows pass near the light they reveal themselves to be cloaked figures. there is a click and a piece of the wall swings inwards. they walk down the stairs. they stop at a heavy oaken door. two of the cloaked figures struggle with lifting the two heavy locking bars. they slowly swing the door open. inside is a brightly lit room. there are several complex glitering structures of crystal and silver. the stone walls have complex patterns of silve inlaid into them. they walk in. sulus looks around.

"yes. i see," he says. "hmm. an interesting variation on that. yes there's the butress for it. yes, i see the source design." he walks around the room. "a friend of mine would say it is showy. but, he does have a taste for elegance. yes, i should be able to finish this."

"i thought you would be able to." the lead figure says. "will it take long?"

sulus walks over to a work bench and picks up a spool of wire. "no. not very long." he begins to weave and pinch off the wire with his fingers. "it's a shame it won't match the rest of it." at seeming random he fixes crystals into the wire. "perhaps he does have a point." he afixes his construct between two of the structures. "sometimes only the function matters." he steps back. his construct seems to shift its shape slightly, as if trying to fold itself into impossible shapes. the other structures seem to take on an active feel to them. "there we are. finished."

"you can't be done." the second cloaked figure says. "it took us six months to build this. you can't have just finished it in with a tangle of wire and crystals."

sulus looks at the cloaked figure. "and if i hadn't been asked to complete this project," sulus grins slightly again. "perhaps your opinion would be worth more then the air you are displaying." he waves his hand dismissively. "but, if i may, i would like to see this demon you are trying to summon."

"yes of course." the first figure says. "i was thinking that myself. but, let's get to work, our master shall be pleased."

the six cloaked gather around the room. they begin to chant and gesture. the crystal and wire resonate and begin to glow and move in responce. electrical arcs jump from wire to wire. some of them land on the stone other land on the inlaid wire and dance along them. a glowing dot forms in the centre. it quickly grows to a bright white sphere seven feet across. as they continue a humanoid shape forms in the sphere. the electrical arcs intensify. some of the arcs blast of bits of stone from the walls and floor. on one hand of the shape a dash of white the colour of burning iron forms. sulus stands erect. he looks through the scroll again. he begins to laugh. the laugh moves into the higher registers suggesting madness. the figures stop. sulus walks up to the sphere. the arcs seem to get close but dodge around him. he looks into the sphere.

"perhaps someday we'll be able to dance again," he whispers. he turns around. "but that day will not be today." he taps a crystal. he begins to walk around the room, tapping crystals and wire as he goes, seeingly at random. "i warned you about summoning what you couldn't control." the figures turn following him. the figure in the sphere begins to fade. the arcs beging to intensify, they still miss sulus, but get closer to the cloaked figures. sulus chuckles. "you were summoning something beyond even my control." he titters. "not that i didn't try."

"what? how?" the first figure says.

"i didn't realize until you started." sulus says. a small arc hits one of the figures. he yelps and jumps into a bigger one. "but, this wasn't a demon you were summoning."

"but, the scroll..."

"yes, the scroll." sulus stops and tosses the scoll into a large arc. it immediately bursts into flames. he is standing infront of the doorway. he walks through and closes the door. the cloaked figures begin to run to the door. a massive arc strikes the floor infront of the door, sending up a spray of stone chips driving them back. on the other side of the door sulus picks up the bars single handed and easily drops them in place. he walks up the stairs. faint screams can be heard through the door. he pulls the secret door closed. as he leaves the room he finishes the tea he left behind. he walks out and back to the door.

"your business was satisfactorily concluded, sir?" the doorman says. as he gets sulus's coat from the closet

"differently from what i expected."

"i hope i didn't over step sir. i brought some refreshments to your guests in the carriedge."

"no, not at all. thank you." sulus looks the doorman up and down. he pulls a card out of his coat pocket. "if ever you find you need new employment, i know yliaki who are looking for people who know there jobs as well as you do."

"thank you, sir." the doorman takes the card. "while i doubt i shall need it in the immediacy, i shall keep it in mind. good evening, sir"

"good evening," sulus says as he walks out the door.

sulus walks down the steps with a slight spring in his steps. he opens the door to the carriage, and steps inside.

"sully," the first woman says. "you're back."

"yes, and now we shall begin our evening." sulus taps on the front wall of the carriage and it begins to move. "but  where to begin, where to begin. ah, yes. i know a musical perfomance that you both will enjoy."
Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on June 15, 2008, 06:13:39 pm
the fireballs impacted the anti-magic field, the energy discharged in a drawn-out cascade of lightning that arced and bounced over the field until it dissipated or grounded itself in a spray of dirt flash cooked to brick. the lightning sizzled like fat frying. after the fireballs ceased and the lightning faded, the taste and smell of tin lingered in the air.

heads began to peek back over the earthwork embankments. they were looking for the attack that probably wasn’t going to coming, but were checking anyways. the lone figure that stood exposed, impassively watching the display stepped back in to the trenches.

“they should have let some through,” one solider said to the group he was with. “keeping up the fields with that kind of attack will take the wind out of yea.”

“not like they’ll have much left either,” one responded. “besides, what would they be savin’ it for?”

the first solider chuckled. “won’t be for the day after tomorrow, that’s for sure.”

“why was he up there,’ the youngest in the group asked.

“who?” someone else said.

“general viscosa,” the youngest said. “he watched the whole thing from the top.”

“don’t know. can’t say it really matters.”

“death,” one of the older soldiers said. “the demon fears death.”

“what?” one of the other soldiers said. “old-timer, you should know that the demon don’t fear nothin’.”

“ha! he fears a great many things. things that i can’t begin to imagine. he fears surviving. we know that we will probably die. he knows he’ll probably live. he’s afraid that when we die, he’ll have failed somehow.”

“bah, we knew we weren’t going to live through this when we came.”

“and he knows that. doesn’t stop him from fearing it.”

“but why are we here?” the youngest said. ”still here? why not fight them when we could win?”

“kid, who said anythin’ about losin’?”

“but…”

“kid, it don’t matter is we win or lose here. by fightin’ they have lost.” he looked at the youngest. “kid, we’re still here because we know we’ll not have died needlessly.”
Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on April 26, 2010, 10:44:33 pm
the doors exploded open. one of the heavy timbers hit one of the criminals inside. it landed with crack. it tumbled onto him without new breaks. the rest turned to the doorway. silhouetted in it is a slender figure/

“sulus?” the leader dabbed at his face where a splinter had cut him. “what? how? i had killed you.”

sulus stepped into the room. ”yes, you did a rare feat. but there are many ways out of the death realm.” he walked towards them. ”though it was rather unartful, and lack any elegance.”

he stopped in front of the leader. he tittered. “some things i will tolerate. some even forgive. but a total lack of elegance is not one of them.”

“that’s too bad.” the leader said. “i don’t know how i’ll live with myself.”

sulus tittered again. “i don’t foresee that as a problem.”

“neither do i. we killed you before. we’ll do it again. get him!”

sulus smiled beatifically as the swords swung at him. he stepped out of the way of them a hairs breadth before they would have hit.”

“tsk, tsk gentlemen.” sulus shook his head. “but so be it.”

he struck out with his hand at the nearest criminal. he broke the sword arm and bent it back at the break. the sword is driven into the belly of the criminal. sulus pulls it out of the slackened grip. with a casual back swing he topped the head on the man behind him like an egg.

they swung again at sulus. he easily dodged the four swords. “you see, with elegance you can achieve any thing.” he dodged another sword swing. he drives his sword between two of the ribs of the swinger. he released the sword and reached across to grab the still silt hilted dagger. he pulled the sword back out as the body began to slump down.

“admittedly it can be a bit showy.” he turned to another criminal. he swung the sword in a complex set of swings. he blocked the other two swords absently with the dagger. as part of the motions he switched the dagger and the sword between hands. the dagger moved without missing a block or interfering with the sword. it would have been spectacular except for the spray of blood and the pieces that fell to the floor.

he turned to the remaining pair, the leader and a youth. they stumbled back against a wall. sulus walked over.

“even pure raw power has some elegance.” he said. “but you didn’t even have that.”
the leader grabbed the youth by the front of his tunic. he throws him at sulus. sulus dodged him easily. as he passed sulus, a ring on a thin chain flew out of the tunic. sulus looked at the ring. sulus turned toward the youth. the youth stumbled face down on to the floor. the leader started to step away from the wall. without a look sulus pinned him to the wall with the sword.

the youth had rolled over. he watched in wide eyed terror as sulus walked over. sulus crouched down. he picked the ring up with the tip of the dagger. he held it in front of front of the youth’s eyes. the ring was made of dull iron. the edges were scalloped around the top and the bottom.

“where did you get this?” sulus said.

“w-what?” the youth said.

sulus sighed. “do not focus on the tip of the dagger. where did you get the ring?”

“i-it was my father’s.” the youth swallowed.

“why do you have it.”

“my father was a smith. he took seriously ill. he died after finishing the final quenching of his last work.”

“he would have, having made this ring.” sulus released the ring from the dagger. he stood up. “go home boy. learn your father’s trade.”

he threw the dagger off handed into the room. it landed with a wet crack. “you life will be better for it.” sulus turned and walked out the door. he whistled a sprightly march as he walked into the light.





Title: sulus balances an account
Post by: steuben on July 14, 2010, 09:12:02 pm
nunoas opened his eyes to blackness studded with harsh white beads of light; .that seemed to hang domed and motionless close around him; and the surprise that he couldn’t move.

“good you are awake.” a calm, cultured voice said. “usually i am much more precise with the sleeping spells. but due to the nature to of the preparations i had to use a coarse metering. it did lack elegance, but alas sometimes requirements will display finesse. and it is little use struggling. the paralysis will last a little longer yet.”

“who are you?” nunoas said. “what have you done to me?”

“my name is sulus giovanen.” sulus’s voice began to move outside the circle of the light. “as for what i have done. that has a bit of a longer answer. but, for you, it may be a rather more interesting one.

“it is the first time i have tried this technique, and so far i am satisfied with the result. you will now be only able to suffer the true death. so regardless of how bad the hurt how terrible the injury, how horrific the wound you will not die, you will slowly heal.”

“what? why?” nunoas tried to struggle, and failed. sulus’s calm voice was among the most fearful things he had heard.

“i will get to why shortly. you need not test the paralysis; it is still firmly in place. that was what i have done. now i will tell you what i will do.”

there was the sound of sulus waving his arm. “you have noticed the lights. they are at the junction points of a mesh that surrounds you. i found it in an ancient text beyond the portals. the mesh allows those within it to experience other realities. there is some leakage to outside the mesh, and from what i have seen it is very intriguing. i combined the mesh with certain glyphs. now whatever is at the center of the mesh will experience the effect to the exclusion of all else, permanently.”

“why?” nunoas’ situation began to dawn on him.

“do you recall a young woman that you had a business dealing with?”

“what? i’ve had many business deals, with many people.”

“you should remember this one.” sulus had stopped near nunoas’ head. “she was injured during your dealings with her.” a hard edge appeared in sulus’s voice. “you left her with an intact mind, in a ruined body.”

“she was just a whore, worthless. one of dozens of women like her out there.”

“worthless?” anger replaced the hardness in sulus’s voice. “everybody has worth. hers in sum may have been greater than yours.” the edge disappeared, and the sound of an evil grin replaced it. “your worth will most certainly now will be less. you see, on her behalf, i am going to leave you with a perfectly healthy body, but a destroyed mind. it is a bit of an elegant balance you must admit.”

“no! you can’t.” nunoas voice grew frantic. “listen i’ll pay you anything. name your price.”

sulus’ voice sounded by nunoas’ ear. “make her whole… no, i thought not.”

the lights jiggled slightly. “enjoy the effect, while you can. don’t worry about the mesh. it will dissolve away after the process is finished.”

the mesh lit up the segments glowed yellow and illuminated the room. the mesh was a dome over a table with nunoas at the center. the yellow segments formed random shapes in the mesh. all the furniture had been pushed against one wall. sulus stepped back from the mesh and watched. it seemed to twist shape without the white lights moving. the shapes of the mesh shifted. a pentagon formed that had only 4 sides each with 60 degrees between them. then a square formed that was made of 5 right angles. then it tiled itself with regular octagons. the shifting of shapes that can not exist became faster. this continued for a while. shortly after the screams started the mesh began to dissolve into a fine ash. sulus left the room closing the door firmly behind him.
Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on August 12, 2010, 05:16:22 pm
she stood in the mists watching image, of a man fighting with some guards, hanging in the mists. the sound of a cane tapping on stone rang slowly growing louder with each tap.  she turned from the image as a lemur bent with age emerged from the mists.

“i have no need for such theatrics,” she said fixing him with solid sapphire eyes.

the lemur chuckled. “perhaps. but, the mortals expect it so it is good to keep in practice.

she turned back to the image.

“how fares your avatar?” the lemur said.

“who am i to have an avatar?”

the lemur walked over beside her, the cane tapping on the mist hidden ground. he watched as a man and a woman rand down a corridor perused by more guards. the pair ran into a large room filled with a giant, complex machine. the machine seemed to twist around and in on itself. they paused and the woman said something. the man ran toward the machine and began to climb to its heart.

“he knows that it is the only one of its kind?” the lemur said.

“he knows,” the woman said.

“he knows that another one shall never be built?”

“he knows.”

“he knows that this shall not release him from the oath?”

“he knows the key.”

the lemur looked over at the woman beside him. he looked back at the image as the woman in it was grasped by the guards. a sword was held against her throat and another appeared to be held against her back. the man was at the heart of the machine, his sword held ready to strike. he looked at the woman. she looked back at him. pleadingly her lips formed the word “please.” he drove his sword into the heart of the machine again and again. soon he was blown off by an explosion of light. he flew through the air hit a wall and fell to the floor like a doll. the woman and the guards were blown backwards. a sword poked through her stomach from behind.

“he’ll not remember what has happened.” the woman said.

“perhaps he should,” the lemur said.

“it is, as all things, beyond my power.”

“perhaps. but he should still know what he has done.” the lemur turned and walked off into the mist. the sound of his cane tapping faded away.
Title: Re: the sketches
Post by: steuben on August 12, 2010, 05:53:56 pm
i stood watching them march past. it wasn’t the terror march of the marshal. it was a slow easy march that deceptively consumed distance. few of the dozen score had armour alike, yet they marches like they had drilled together for years.  at the front marched the demon. the man who had led his men, and rumour had said no few women to victory after victory. victories many would have said impossible. victories that came as often on his blade as the blades of the men he led. but even he couldn’t win against the odds he faced. he still seemed smaller than i expected.

when the general call had gone out i went to join the octarch’s forces. i had heard the stories of the marshal’s forces. so me and my friends joined up. we had an idea of how to fight. in practice i could best my friends. when i got to the camp i could best several of those assembled. as the demon’s column marched by i saw some of those i had bested. i had heard that he was assembling a special force, so i sought him out. i didn’t know what the force was for. i just wanted to be with them. i wanted to with alongside the demon. i found his tent. in front of it was two guards.

“... and she was moving among them.” the guard on the right was telling the one on the left. “one of the most terrifyingly beautiful things i ever saw on the right end of a blade. she danced with six at time, as one fell another took its place. she never slowed down.  she was never touched, but by the splatter of blood.” he looked at me as i walked up. “and what are you looking for, boy?”

“i head the de- general viscosa was looking for some men to join a special force under his command.”

the one on the left looked me up and down. i had worn my full armour and sword in a bid to impress. he furrowed his brow as if trying to figure something out. eventually he shrugged.
“do you know what this ‘special force’ is going to do?” the guard on the right asked.

“does it matter? there’s going to be fighting regardless of where i am. i figure i should be where i can best fight, on my terms.”

“we fight on no one’s terms, but the ones of those who lead.” the guard on the left said.

“he’s right, boy. you would still the the cap- general’s orders. you may think you’re hot stuff in your tin suit-“

i had stiffened, prepared to prove my skills to him.

“and you might be.” he continued. “but this job ain’t for everyone.  head back to your fire, wait for the real fighting there.”

the real fight has always been where general viscose is.”

“finding the fighting is easy.” the guard on the left said. “leaving the fight is simple. the real fight is rarely at the point.”

“well, maybe where officers are concerned. but you’re never marched with the general before.” his stare pinned me. “you have little idea what ‘real’ fighting is.” he released me from his stare. “but, if you want you can ask the general himself.”

“i will. i’ll let him make the decision rather than his tent guards.”

they both smiled the smile of the knowing towards the fool.

“general, a warrior requests an audience.” the guard on the left said. after a muffled sound he pulled aside the tent flap.
“the lair of the demon,” the one on the right said, “though few have exited as they were.”

i stepped into the tent. it was lit by a double wick oil lantern. but the smell caused me to pause. it was a sweet cloying scent of cinnamon, cloves and citrus. behind a table lit by the lamp, was a man hunched over the table reading a document.

without even looking up he said “whose glory do you fight for?”

“i will speak with general viscose, not some clerk.” i responded.

he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. he looked up from the document and looked through me. “and so you are. now answer the question.

i broke into a cold sweat. the though crossed my mind that he looked smaller than the stories seemed to say he was. the next thought was that i had screwed up. “i... i don’t know.”

he focused on me.  his face softened a bit. “you may be foolish and young. but you may have the chance to grow out of it. go back to your fire.”

i turned and went back to my fire and my friends. so i watched as the demon led his dozen score against the marshal’s dozens thousands. men who were to slow the marshal. men and women who never returned.
how i wished and still wish that i was among those who marched forth that day.