Darkblade and Deathhammer.

[Rhys]

OK, I finally decided to stop being lazy and wrote a story, it's rather long so I'd not even start if you don't think you'll reach the end. Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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It was a busy day in the bustling town of Farlon. The sun bore down upon the backs of many hardworking men and women. People shuffled from stall to stall, glimpsing at the goods that were on sale. No evil was afoot that day, no one could have foreseen the events that were to happen within the next few hours...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Ha-ha, Theodore, I never believed 'ew 'ad it in 'ew to kill like tha'!" Came the voice of a burly warrior, over the crackle of the flames.

 

 

 

"Yes, I find that oafs such as yourself usually are enthralled by such simple fighting techniques. Now, quit talking and take out those guards before we both end up dead."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brute nodded and spun his warhammer around to take out a group of guards that had arrived from the South. Theodore jumped and dodged like a professional swordsman and slew many. When no more enemies surrounded them, they looked around at the carnage they had caused. A smile crept over Theodore's mouth.

 

 

 

He turned to Brute and spoke, "another fine victory for us, it seems," his voice sounded posh and suave, "I do hope there are tougher foes in the bigger towns."

 

 

 

"Aye, as do I, mate. These weaklings aren' much of a fight are they?" Brute inquired.

 

 

 

"No Brute, they're not, now let's keep moving."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brute and Theodore set out over the open plains, heading in the general direction of Barter Village. The sun glinted off Theodore's dark armour and he raised his sword towards it and cursed aloud. Not long after they started their journey, they stumbled upon a great host of orcs. The orcs knew who they were immediately and their leader bid Theodore to come speak.

 

 

 

"I know of you, Darkblade. My people murmur rumours of one who comes from the East, sweeping through the vast towns and villages of the manfolk. We wish an alliance, if you please. We hate the manfolk as much as you and would be honoured if we could fight alongside you, please listen to my plea and think wisely," said Gorthank, the orc leader.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Do you ask for our assistance because you hate men or because you are afraid we would kill you? Either way, I've pondered your question and I think it best that you help us, we could do with a hand later on."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Theodore left Gorthank's quarters and headed towards Brute. He motioned for Brute to follow him. He hurried towards a group of orcs and Brute struggled to keep up. The orcs were restless and started to utter words that sounded like, "Darkblade" and, "Deathhammer". Theodore smiled at Brute then told the orcs to come with them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They left the encampment and went on to Barter Village alone. Brute was excited and rushed at the village guards. He slew nearly all of them by the time Theodore arrived.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"How do ye' like tha' aye? None o' tha' fancy foot work like 'ew!" He called to Theodore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The orcs were enthralled by the way Theodore moved, he spun and jumped and no one could touch him. The orcs rushed forward but Theodore ordered them to set the buildings alight. They did as they were told as Theodore and Brute handled the infantry. The village slowly started to burn, the fires sprung up and each time one was put out another would start. Theodore laughed as the town was razed and the last of the infantry was killed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That night, there was much cheer in the orc camp. In commemoration of the victory, the orcs had decided to build a huge bonfire and place the bodies of the dead atop it. They marvelled at the way the flames flickered and danced. Brute was participating in some rather crude drinking games while Theodore sat away from the party, looking out over the fields.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suddenly, a woman dropped down beside him. Theodore made to draw his blade until he realized that she meant him no harm. He gazed at her for a few fleeting moments until she spoke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You are not of their kind, are you?" She asked.

 

 

 

"No, I see you aren't either, it surprises me. I thought the only beautiful women around here only lived in the village that we so happened to destroy."

 

 

 

"Ha, do not come upon me with such flattery, the last man to try and win my heart ended up at the bottom of a lake with a sword through him. I am, what I like to call, a dark human. I see you are of the same characteristics."

 

 

 

"A woman with attitude. I agree, I think I am somewhat like yourself. I hate the human race but am part of it, I suppose you could call me a hypocrite." He said, with a manic laugh.

 

 

 

"I suppose I could. My name is Falandra, and yours is Darkblade."

 

 

 

"You could call me Darkblade although it is just one of my many aliases. My name is Theodore."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With that, he stood and sprung towards his tent. She sat there for a moment, giggling to herself. Then, she too, left.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next day, Theodore and Brute had assembled the orc millitia and were preparing to march on Farlon. Theodore preferred not to ride upon a horse, but stride alongside the orcs that would soon die for him. They set out. Brute was still joyous about the night before and kept singing small verses of song as they travelled. Falandra caught up with Theodore and walked with him for awhile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I think this should be fun," she said from behind him, "it's been awhile since my arrows have left the quiver. I do hope I get to kill lots of men"

 

 

 

"I see you're as bloodthirsty as any orc, I think you've been living among them for too long."

 

 

 

"Haha, no, I've always had a lust for blood. Especially that of humans."

 

 

 

"And if it was your own blood that spilt upon your hands?"

 

 

 

"Then I wouldn't care because I know that it would be human blood."

 

 

 

"Oh, good logic. We should be there - "

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Theodore was cut short as a horn was sounded, three short blasts, it meant there were enemies nearby. Instinctively, he made towards the sound of the horn. An arrow whistled past him and struck a nearby tree. He rushed forward to see Brute already obliterating an archer's broken body. A huge roar grew amongst the ranks of the orcs. They charged forward, unknown to Theodore; they had finally reached Farlon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The orcs rushed down the streets, setting fire to buildings as they went. Brute was busy taking down many guards and was moving towards the barracks. Theodore ran towards Brute, killing as he went. He knew that Brute just wanted to fight the warriors, he also knew that if he was outnumbered he would surely be defeated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Theodore rounded the corner, he saw Brute in melee combat with at least six warriors. He slew them all and turned to a more powerful looking enemy. He seemed mystical yet powerful. He swung his greatsword at Brute. Brute managed to parry it but left himself vulnerable as the warrior's shortsword penetrated his abdomen. Brute screamed in agony and fell to his knees. The menacing warrior raised his sword to kill Brute, it came down and Brute lay lifeless on the floor. A trickle of blood ran down the steps. Theodore was suddenly enraged, and wished for nothing but to kill this warrior.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He sprang at him, the warrior was swift. His shortsword connected with Theodore's rapier. Theodore initiated an agile lunge attack, the warrior moved aside and swung his sword straight for Theodore. Theodore lept backwards then raised his sword and brought it down on the warrior. It clashed with the warriors armor and it split asunder. The rapier had cleaved the mighty soldier's chest in two. He lay next to Brute, twitching every now and then.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Theodore glanced at Brute, then left the bloody scene. He saw that the orcs were in fierce battle with many of the humans. He rushed to their aid and slew many. Falandra span around and shot an arrow into a human that would've stabbed Theodore. He gave her a sign of gratitude and carried on fighting. Suddenly, arrows started to rain down upon the orcs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One planted itself into Theodore's shoulder. He staggered, then fell. More arrows. Orcs began to die around him. Falandra carried on fighting bravely but she too was taken down. Theodore could feel the flames enclosing him, he knew this was the end. He had killed so many but it was now his time, no glorious ending for him. Just blackness... And this strange emptiness. He wasn't afraid of death anymore. The flames were hotter than ever now, the embers scorched his face. The cold embrace of death slowly started to envelope him and he smiled. That same smile he used whenever he was feeling particularly evil. It remained with him even in death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When they found his body littered amongst of mound of dead orcs, he was still smiling ....

[Ape]

Very......Uhh......Interesting.

[Merry]

I think that is very Good. Not my style of reading, But I enjoyed it.

 

 

 

You have talent. And your writing technique is good. Thank You for the Story. And as I have said I kept to my promise. :D

[Rhys]

Thanks Merry, I was beginning to think no one was going to read it. I quite liked your other poems/songs that I read in your thread, I couldn't be bothered to post though because I'm lazy. :D

[Merry]

Thanks...I was begining to think no one would read them...lol