Well, the story sure changed drastically in the time I've been gone. I never saw us finding ourselves in the midst of the old story! I forget much about the old story, and I even forgot where my character came in! But as I read I remember my character was a warrior sent from Guthix, somewhat like Chaoseeker's. That was a good story. Anyway, I don't know how I managed to go for as long as I did without posting in the story, and I'm glad to see no one really messed up my character :P . Here goes:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aleksandar had awakened to a conversation between strangers and familiar voices. He recognized the voices as those of Aming and Kiran. He made his presence known and Kiran came over to tell him of what had elapsed in the time of his rest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Aleksandar, it is good to see you in good health."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Likewise to you Kiran. Perhaps you should go tend to the needs of the others. I shall keep Armaneth company."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kiran heeded Aleksandar's words, and began to walk away.

 

 

 

Hmm, strange that he should be so eager to rush me away. A weak spell Aming cast upon these men? Perhaps, but perhaps not. I should keep an eye on these two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aleksandar turned to Armaneth, who had fallen asleep again. He made sure the rest of the party had moved away from the wagon to begin making a fire and settling things for the night before he roused Armaneth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Armaneth. Armaneth. Wake now, for we must have a talk."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth was slow to wake up, but he eventually did so and asked Aleksandar what was so urgent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Has your sleep been so troubled as mine? I feel as if I have slept for aeons, yet I do not feel rejuvinated in any way. It is very troubling."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Quite the contrary actually friend, my sleep has been extremely refreshing and I feel I have slept just the right amount of time. Why do you ask?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"My sleep has been a disturbing one. I saw images of our companions, our friends even, being slain. I saw Kiran's death, yours, Aming's, everyone's. A horrible death we all suffered. One can only hope that this was not a vision of things to come."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hmm, you are right in the decision that your sleep was disturbing. But the events being forsight of the future? I highly doubt it. Perhaps you should go ask the others about this. Maybe they would know, especially Aming, she cast the spell after all. Did you suffer the Great Equaliser in you dream as well? Did you die I mean?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"No... I don't think I did. But I think you're right, it probably is no cause for alarm. Just a dream right?" He chuckled nervously, as did Armaneth, who shortly after left to meet with the others at the fire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aleksandar, however, stayed behind in the wagon. The sleep had been too disturbing. He felt compelled to take leave from the party and continue on his own. It wasn't just the fact that the others had died in his dream. It wasn't the graphic ways in which they had died. It was not the realism of the dream. The part that had been most disturbing and unsettling, was the fact that he had been the one to kill them. But he had seen it all through real eyes. Eyes not damaged. How could this have been?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As he dwelt on this thought, Aming (the Aming Aleksandar had known in his own time) came up next to Aleksandar. They had not spoken since they had been in Draynor where Aleksandar had spoken with her as she recovered from her first encounter with the demon. When he had spoken with her there, something between them seemed to lock into place, something that seemed to say that they would be together in a long and arduous journey. A bond almost. And Aleksandar sensed that this might be another such moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"It is good to speak with you once again in private Aleksandar."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"The feeling is mutual then. My sleep seems to have lasted for aeons. I feel like a stranger amongst people I can't begin to know, and some I can barely begin to remember. Do you remember what spell you cast on me? Would it have such an effect?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well, it might. In rare instances it has such an effect. Very, very rare instances, considering that this effect would only be present in one of the Marked Ones. Aleksandar, are there things you haven't shared with the rest of our group? Things from your past?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I am not sure. It feels like there is an emptiness in my head. The incident in the Wilderness that left me blind might account for this. From that incident I only remember a kindly man dressed in a pure white. He gave me the cloth. Yes, I'm sure of it, he gave me this cloth. What, might I inquire, are the 'Marked Ones'?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well, in one of the great wars passed there were a few great warriors. They fought bravely, and led legions into war. When morale was broken, they could bring spirits back to their men. They fought so fiercely it is said that they could have fought the war alone and won. The gods adopted these men during the war. They tried to claim the warriors for themselves as a testament to their power. The gods branded these men with their symbol. The men were so powerful, and such rogues, that they were able to fight off even the gods. But the brand stayed with them in the middle of their backs forever. It was present within their children, and their children's children, and so on. Only a few of these lineages still exist. Tell me Aleksandar, do you have any peculiar markings on your back?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm afraid I could not tell you Aming. If one ever did exist, I cannot remember it, for the accursed incident. I would be hard pressed to check in my current state as well. I don't think I'd be able to see it if it were there. I suppose you could check if you really think it is necessary."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming resolved to check. As Aleksandar removed his shirt, Aming gasped at what she saw on his back. The blazing emblem of Zamorak. But it was slightly altered from Zamorak's though. The name Zaros fleeted through her mind, but it was so fleeting she could not grasp it. Perhaps a scar from a wound had obstructed the symbol, so for the time being, she accepted that it was Zamorak's emblem. Aleksandar had descended from one of the greatest warriors of all time. The only warrior Zamorak had ever seen fit to claim as his own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Why do you gasp?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming quickly recovered her composure. "Oh, it is nothing. You just have many scars and your body seems to have endured many fights." She thought it was best not to reveal the fact that he was claimed by Zamorak. A curse of Zamorak rather, one that she was afraid might let Zamorak himself possess Aleksandar. Despite the curse, Aleksandar's great skill as a warrior was only that of his own hard work and training. Zamorak put no power in him, but through the curse Aming believed he may be able to manifest himself into Aleksandar's body. This information might be too much of a burden for him, she decided, and she helped him put his shirt back on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"No, I see no mark, so it must just have been a normal bad dream. Perhaps you should sleep some more."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aleksandar agreed and laid back down. He quickly fell asleep. Aming sat there for awhile before returning to the others who were by the fire. And all the while Aleksandar slept, with the symbol, not of Zamorak, but of Zaros on his back. Aiming had misidentified it. Aleksandar was subject to a much more malicious and malovolent force than Zamorak.

Armaneth wandered around in the darkness just outside the light of the fire, his hand always on the hilt of his sword, Frostwind. Aleksander's words troubled him. The others, being the younger Aming and her party, had told him it'd be best if he rested. He insisted he felt renewed, if not better than before.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suddenly a flash of light appeared just infront of Armaneth, startling him and causing the swordsmage to fall back. Instinctively rolling sideways, Armaneth came to a crouch position and looked about, expecting a projectile fired by a catapult to fall towards him. Instead, he saw standing where the light had struck a man clad in white, obviously a druid. The new comer wavered, and nearly fell, but before that could happen Armaneth steadied him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth sat on the ground next to the druid, who had been wrapped in blankets and left to lay near the fire. Everyone else had gone to sleep, but since he had had more than he needed, Armaneth stayed awake to watch this mysterious person. The druid stirred, and opened his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Welcome back to reality." Armaneth whispered to him. The druid groaned, and sat up with some assistance from Armaneth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Where am I?" The man managed as he gazed around sleepily.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Among friends, Master Druid. What is your name good sir, so that I might be able to call for you properly?" the swordsmage asked, barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the others.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Vandiel." The Druid replied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Glad to meet you, Vandiel. I am Armaneth, and these peculiar swords are yours." he said as he set a pair of blades, wrapped in fine cloth, on the druid's lap. "Come, have some food and drink, and rest a while. The effects of the spell will have worn by the time you awaken again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the druid had consumed a small loaf of bread and taken a few swallows from the pue water Armaneth had conjured, the druid fell back to sleep, with his swords left nearby. The swordsmage rose and began to patrol the little camp, waiting for Corwin to relieve him of guard duty within the next hour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Corwin awoke around 3 hours til dawn. Armaneth was sitting by the fire, stirring the coals with a stick absently while studying the Druid. Yawning, he walked over to them, looking the Druid over himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Did he wake in the night?" Corwin queried while stretching his arms and back until the latter popped. He sat down as Armaneth replied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Yes, he calls himself Vandiel. He's had a little to eat and drink, and he'll be up by morning." Armaneth answered. Throwing the stick into the coals, Armaneth stood and stretched himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"His swords aren't normal, and neither is yours." Corwin commented. Armaneth looked down at the Bladesman with a slightly surprised look on his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"No, they aren't. My sword was crafted by my father, who happened to be a Demi-God." Armaneth said. This statement made Corwin rock back, with a very surprised look on his face. Armaneth grinned, apparently amused, and continued, "It contains energies from the Nexus of my world. I am the guardian of my world, whose name I won't reveal for safety reasons. Well, it's time I got some rest." Armaneth looked around, then leaned toward Corwin and whispered harshly, "You will tell no one of this." Corwin could only nod, and Armaneth smiled kindly, then walked away from the dazed Corwin to get some sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took some time for Corwin to recover, but when he did he kept a vigilant watch, often checking the Druid Vandiel and looking over his swords. He took out his own sword, which needed cleaning badly. With a slight grimace at the smell, Corwin poured some cleaning solution he had made on a cloth and began to clean his blade. As he finished, the sun rose on the horizon and the rest of the party stirred.

Marcus awoke to "Rain" gently shaking him. "We break camp in an hour. Prepare yourself."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He groggily nodded, then began to pack his bedroll.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The morning was slightly chilly, with a thin layer of mist hovering above the slightly damp ground. The mountains covered their campsite with shadow, though a lightness in the sky indicated that the sun had already risen. The smell of cooking meat wafted into Marcus' nose, and he hurriedly finished packing to join the rest of the group around the campfire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"About time you woke up," called Armaneth from the opposite side of the fire as he sat down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Deep sleeper," added Zonorhc. "You'd make a terrible soldier."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I was just tired," Marcus replied, "besides, the soldier's life isn't very attractive to me."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Why not?" asked Frost as she walked over to him, handing him some bread and a slice of meat. "You look like you'd make a fine swordsman."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Simirillion laughed. "He looks like he'd make a fine thief. That rapier he's got isn't for battlefield work. 'Sides, I noticed him observing everyone last night. I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew what we could do."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I noticed you trying to go through my backpack last night," Marcus told the thief with a grin. "You'd have had an easier time if I didn't have locks behind the buckles."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Simirillion looked dumbstruck, and everyone else around the fire laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus surveyed the group once more, and noted that Aleksander was missing. "Where would the blind archer be?" he inquired through a mouthful of bread.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"He went off over the ridge," said Corwin, "taking a walk, he said."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Good idea," said Zonorhc, "it gets the warmth back into your legs. Makes it easier to -- wait! Everyone be silent!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They all complied, and within a moment, they could all hear echoes of sound from the direction Corwin had said Aleksander had gone. Everyone scrambled for their equipment. Marcus ran for his backpack, and picked up his crossbow where it lay beside it. He hastily opened his pack, taking out an extra case of bolts and attaching it to his belt.He loaded his weapon and joined everyone back at the campfire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Any minute now, Aleksander's going to come over that ridge," Zonorhc was saying as he arrived, pointing to the rise to the east, "and he's going to be trailing whatever's chasing him. Rain, Aming, Aryl and Saben, head over to the higher ridge there. Corwin, Sim and Armaneth, you two stay here and guard the camp with Vandiel, just in case. Kiran, you come with me and Frost. Got that?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone nodded in assent. "Good," said Zonorhc. "Move out."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lancer waited as Rain's group headed out, then motioned for Frost and Marcus to follow him. Instead of heading over the rise, he led them off to the north, signalling that they should keep quiet. Marcus held his crossbow at the ready, scanning the area around him as they moved. The sound of a twig snapping alerted them, and they halted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Sounds like they've got the same plan as you do," whispered Frost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zonorhc nodded. "I can see two. Looks like Black Knight skirmishers. Frost, head over to that overhanging rock over there. Kiran, come with me."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frost snuck over to the rock as she was instructed, and gave a little nod, then held up four fingers. Zonorhc motioned for Marcus to follow him a little further. "Stay here," the lancer said. "If you see one coming, shoot."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus crouched down, crossbow at the ready. Zonorhc darted off. Half a minute passed, and a shout was heard, followed by a gurgling scream, and three black-cloaked men ran into the small clearing, obviously employing a shoot-and-run tactic against the lancer, who charged in behind them with an already bloody spear. Marcus took quick aim and let fly, dropping one with a bolt through his kneecap. One of the remaining two pointed at Marcus' position and approached as he frantically tried to reload, but was stopped as a two-foot-long arrow punched through his skull, spraying blood and ichor all over the undergrowth. Marcus silently thanked Frost as he took aim at the last one, but Zonorhc was already there, gutting the man efficiently with a charging lunge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lancer signalled for them to move on, leaving the bloody mess behind them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They moved in a wide arc around what Marcus estimated to be the ambush point at a double pace. The lancer was trying to make up for the time they used to dispatch the flankers. They ran for four solid minutes, mostly uphill, Marcus barely in sight of Zonorhc, with Frost close behind him. They caught up, panting, as Zonorhc halted on a small ridge. Shouts could clearly be heard, as well as the whistle of arrows and the buzzing sound of energy bolts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Looks like they're holding out," Marcus panted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We'll give those knights a little bit of a surprise," said Zonorhc. "Frost, stay here and give us some cover fire."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frost nodded, nocking an arrow and holding another in her mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus followed the lancer down, away from the Black Knights' position, and made their approach, hugging the sheer wall of Frost's ridge. "There's an archer behind everyone else," Zonorhc said to Marcus. "Can you take him out first?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus nodded, took aim, and sent a bolt tearing through the man's back, dropping him with a spray of red and pink.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Draw your sword and follow me," called Zonorhc as he charged forward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus complied, and they took the Knights from behind by surprise, rendering their cover against the other group useless. Frost dropped two in quick succession, and Zonorhc charged at one, impaling him and pinning him, twitching, to the tree he took cover behind. Marcus noted Saben taking the advantage of the halt in archer fire by charging forward to close in. Marcus continued his own charge at an archer who swiftly dropped his bow and drew a short sword, ducking under a thrust that threatened to split his face in twain, and ramming into the man's stomach with an elbow, pinning him breathless to a tree.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He noticed movement behind him and dropped prone, rolling to the side and allowing another archer to stab the breathless one in the gut, before jumping to his feet and lunging at the second archer's throat. The man fell to the ground gurgling and clutching at his sundered jugular vein, before succumbing to extreme blood loss. A man flew past him and struck a tree with a loud crack as Saben delivered a mighty blow, and all was silent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frost ran up to meet them, clutching a small cut on her shoulder. "My apologies. Two got away. One was named Arven, the one who shot me was named Smedos. That arrow..." she collapsed.

Ok time to put my part in!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Smedos! Come my servant."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smedos hurried through the large maple door into the large chamber of The Judge. The chamber was full of dimly burning torches. On the walls statues and fountains bubbled a black liquid. The black liquid produced a putrid smell that Smedos hated, and dreaded everytime he entered the room. The Judge was wearing his average black robe, his scythe leaning against his bone constructed throne. He picked up a goblet of blood and sipped deeply.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Tell me of your assignment Smedos."

 

 

 

"They are strong, very strong we lost many of our knights, Arven and I were the only to escape. I may have wounded or even killed one of their party."

 

 

 

"Well, it looks like I may be in need of some new leaders..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smedos knew what would happen if new leaders were selected, he and Arven would die. Smedos spoke up quickly, "No, my lord we will bring a new party, and we will annialate them."

 

 

 

The Judge agreed, and Smedos left the chamber. He retreated to his own quarters. He opened his multiple-locked door catching the familiar scent of his potions. The scents put him at ease after the close encounter. He plodded over to his bed sipping a sleeping serum to drop him into unconciousness quickly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning Smedos awoke refreshed, but still a little worried about the next raid on the party. He checked his weapons and began filling some vials with water. Smedos reached up to one of his high shelves and grabbed the main ingredient to his nerve rotting poison, a gland taken from the mouth of a black dragon. This gland produced a venom that the dragons spray on its victims. He ground the gland and added a common herb into the mixture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smedos walked out of his room, all of his weapons hung on his belt, his potions in vials on a leather sash across his abdomen. He entered one of his herblore knights' barracks. He began picking his soldiers for the next day's attack. In a corner near the back door sat a crazy looking knight in just his underwear and shirt. Smedos approached him. The strange man slung his head around exposing blood shot eyes and a twisted smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Can i help you?" The slumping man asked.

 

 

 

"What are you doing there?" Smedos asked pointing to a multi-colored, swirling potion on a shelf.

 

 

 

"Well, I was working on a new exploding potion."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At that moment the potion turned a lime green color, and began to smoke. The small man ran to the other side of the bed ducking for safety. Smedos dove over an upturned table. The liquid exploded covering them al in a burning substance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You, you are now my second in command over this regiment." Smedos loved imagination.

 

 

 

Sorry for not writing that much, maybe more action next time. Btw thanks Zonohrc for making it easier for me to jump in.

Arven cringed,

 

 

 

A servant of zamorak mercilessly brought an iron down across his flesh wounds sealing up the deeper cuts. He was a mess. A gash on his forehead, burns all over and many cuts and bruises upon his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another servant bandaged the cuts round his chest with the help of a mage who casted a small spell to help tend tp his wounds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Earlier today him, A high ranking Captain and a small battalion of black knights had organised an assault on a group of travellers.

 

 

 

They met these travellers head on - unprepared, a large proportion of the black knights were unexperienced and had not seen the heat of battle before. The attack did not go well and the black knights had all been slain except he and Captain Smedos who had been forced to flee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You can go now." Arven spoke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The servants bowed and left after finishing on his burns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whoever these people were, they were highly experienced.

 

 

 

Arven sensed that the Hells Judge was wary of them and next time Arven fought he would be better prepared for it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arven stood up, wet a rag and mopped his brow with it. It sure was hot here. Or perhaps he was burning up?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a knock at the door and a man entered the dimly lit room It was Captain Val, followed closely behind by two black knights. Captain Val ushered them to leave and then spoke up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"The attack today displeases the Judge." Said Captain Val

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh great. Where is this leading? Arven thought. "We, lead them into a false sense of security." Arven hastily added.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Yes, I'm sure." replied Val. He seemed amused by Arven's anxiety. "However, you are to launch a new assault." Captain Val scratched his chin before adding "Oh, and failure will not be tolerated."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Captain Val left the room. Arven stood up and walked to the corner of his room. He placed a black plate mail over his head and clipped it into place. There was a large dent around his chest which he would have to take to the smithy later. He than grabbed a dagger and slung it around his hips and left the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He made his way along a dark corridor into a room filled with yells of excitement and the sound of laughter. It was a dark room filled with dark knight's, thieves, pirate's, dark mages and many others drinking heartily.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This room was filled with alot of rough people, many of whom he would have slayed to earn a gold piece here and there. A lot of attention was drawn to the corner, where a bar room brawl seemed to be going on. Arven crept closer to see what was going on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A large warrior loomed above a man crouched upon the floor. This man had a long beard and long hair which was strung back. He looked quite tough and had quite a red complexion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I, Korr. Am the strongest man in this room and can crush any man's skull with my bare hands. You are no challenge!" He spat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The man below him had a small grin upon his face - He looked like a thief. but seemed more confident, he had a bow strung across his back and he carried an assortment of daggers, for close situations like this one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The little man sprung up and stabbed 'Korr' in the shoulder, then darted round him. Taking advantage of his speed and swinging his dagger in 'Korr's' direction. However, one of 'Korr's' clumbsy attacks made contact with the small man and sent him sprawling into a nearby table.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Korr then proceded to go after the man when Arven interfered. He leaped in the way and used all his strength to push Korr aside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looks like I've just found two men for the job. Arven thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arven then helped the small man up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What is your name?" He asked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The man sat up. "I am Rufus, renowned thief and archer. How can I help you?" He sneered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Looks, like you guys are just the people I need." replied Arven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arven started to feel drowsy and decided to find Smedos, perhaps he could help Arven out with that. Besides, they had to prepare their next assault and Captain Smedos was just the man he needed to see.

I'm going to try a new type of writing style than my other posts, Here goes!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel rolled to the left and a Black Knight brought his large broadsword down where Vandiel was just seconds ago, He stood up and withdrew Dunthal and Armads from their sheath strapped on his back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Black Knight had gotten up and was edging closer to Vandiel; he noticed that with such a heavy sword the Knight had a wide-open defense when he attacked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Knight rushed forward and heaved the sword high into the air; Vandiel hopped to the side and then struck the Knights broadsword as it came down, embedding it into the ground. He slashed viciously at the jugular with the free sword, killing the Knight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel turned around surveying the makeshift battle field, Corwin had expertly dispatced 2 Black Knights, while Armaneth had taken 1 and Similliron had taken 2 out from a distance with his throwing knives.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just as he thought that all the knights had kill, he saw one leap out of the underbrush heading for Armaneth, who had his back turned. Vandiel didn't quite know what he was doing, He clawed his hand and raised and it at the Black Knight, He spoke an acnient langueage of the Druid and a green claw sprung from the ground and passed into the Knight, he crumpled down to the ground, dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel looked around at the carnage, he could see Aming, Rain, Aryl and Saben approaching the camp staying in the foliage trying to remain as hidden as possible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He turned around to hear a begrudging Corwin complaining.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"These darn Black Knights! I had just finished cleaning my blade last night, and then these gung-[garden tool] raiders ambush us, now I need to clean it all over again!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He looked around again and saw Simirillion walking over to a corpse of a deceased Black Knight with a dagger lodged deeply in his neck; he bent over and started wriggling it trying to pry free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suddenly he heard a shout from Aming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We need help quickly, Frost had been injured and it seem as if the bolt was laced with a toxin. Does anyone have any sort of knowledge in the area??"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zonorhc and Kiran came out from the bushes supporting a ill stricken Frost inbetween them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aryl had prepared some blankets for Frost to lie down on, Vandiel rushed forward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"In my order, I was one of the higher ranking herbologists, If there is a cure, I'm certain I can find it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He surveyed Frost and furrowed his brow in concertration.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

 

 

 

Ok, I've edited it abit, just a bit of explaining.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is Vandiels first Fight in, so I wanted to get across his "Fully L33t fighting skillz" :P , but don't worry, he isn't a walking tank.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The green claw magic thingy = Guthix spell

 

 

 

I might give him slight control over plants if its needed later on in the story, you know, Druid, nature stuff!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~Chaosbringer

Magey can catch up when she gets back. :P

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

>Edit: Uh oh. Better fix continuity since Ice_Ring edited his out. Someone else can cover the big battle scene. *Hint hint*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Saben asked from ahead as the group skirted the northern foothills of Ice Mountain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Vandiel's sure that he's got the cure," Zonorhc called from behind. "By the time we reach the Black Knights' fortress, Frost should be fine. Failing that, she can help guard the wagon while we cause a bit of trouble."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"That's how he does things," Corwin said to Marcus. "If something causes enough trouble, like these knights, he'll try and fix the problem."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What do you think he's planning to do?" asked Marcus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well, it's not up to me. My guess is that we'll likely knock that fortress down, though he might opt to be subtle for once."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus nodded, and continued to watch the scenery to the south, avoiding the sight of the barren wilderness to the north.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A light breeze flowed through the camp. From their high vantage point they could see the distant lights of the Black Knights' fortress, about half a day's march away. Pine trees rustled and creaked, and the camp was dark. Zonorhc and Saben had insisted on a cold camp, so as to avoid detection. However, lamplight flickered in one tent as Aming and Aryl used a pool of still water to scry on the fortress and create a usable map.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus sat in his tent with Aleksander. The blind archer was deftly carving arrow shafts and affixing them with salvaged arrowheads. Marcus was likewise carving wood, though it was simpler since he did not need steel to produce a suitable quarrel. Four finished bolts were already in his case, bringing his total up to eight. Ten will be enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"This reminds me of a war camp," Zonorhc said from just outside the tent. "Men fletching extra ammunition on the night before a battle, plans being made..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What is the plan?" Aleksander asked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh, nothing too fancy. We need to get a couple of stealthy people inside for a bit of dirty work, and to open those gates that I've heard so much about. The rest of us will stay outside, taking care of anyone charging out."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I can be one of the infiltrators," Marcus said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I know," replied Zonorhc as he walked away, a pair of freshly-carved lances resting over his shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Early morning mist clung to the damp ground as the group prepared for their assault. As expected, Simirillion and Marcus were the candidates for infiltration, with Kay running last minute communications between them and the main party.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Remember the map?" asked Simirillion as they crouched low behind a large rock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well enough," replied Marcus. "We wait for the signal, correct?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sim nodded. "It should be easy enough to identify."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A moment later, a loud scream was heard, followed by the sound of metal-encased flesh striking stone from a great height. Sim tapped Marcus on the shoulder. "That's the one. Remember, we split up as soon as we get over the wall."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus nodded, and sprinted for the wall's plinth with Sim. Both quickly hurled their grapples over the crenellations, and scrambled up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two black knights who were running towards the western wall had stopped in surprise as they climbed over. Both parties hesitated for a moment, before drawing steel. A dagger from Sim quickly found its way into one knight's chest as Marcus lunged forward, rapier drawn, deftly dodging cuts and slashes, before withdrawing his blade and bull-rushing the other off the wall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Good," said Sim as they sheathed their weapons. "Let's go."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He grabbed his rope and slid down to the bailey, and Marcus threw his grapple down after him. Marcus grabbed his own grapple from the wall and ran to the east, where Smedos had indicated the existence of another entrance. He similarly slid down and pulled down his grapple, before quickly locating the door and entering.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He recalled the map, and headed down a hallway to his right, which ended at a door. He slowly pushed the door open, and the foul smell of sulfur assaulted his senses. He entered and made his way to the cauldron in the centre. He gauged that it was only five feet between the lip of the cauldron and the grille above. He climbed up and pushed the grille away, before hoisting himself up to the next floor. He glanced around and took his bearings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He moved to the door and heard footsteps outside. Slowly, he tracked the source of the sound and pushed the door open when it had passed. He quietly darted to the captains' quarters and entered an empty room. Locating a chest of drawers near the bed, he quickly rifled through it for a key that would allow him to raise the portcullis. Marcus frantically searched, and found the key as soon as he heard footsteps outside. The door began to swing inwards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Without a second thought, he put the key away, and ducked behind the bed. He waited for the knight to approach the open drawers before rolling under the four-poster and darting outside, quickly making his way to and down the main staircase.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus was faced with four unarmoured, but armed, black knights who were in deep discussion at one of the tables, but had drawn their swords as soon as he appeared. Weighing his chances, he drew his rapier and readied himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first charged at him with a quick succession of cutting strokes, which he avoided by leaping over the banister to his right, before drawing his dagger and taking another knight in the stomach with it. He jumped forward as he heard his first assailant jump down as well, and thrust his rapier into the man's ribs as he crouched, momentarily stunned by the fall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The other two approached him cautiously, spreading wide apart to flank him in case he came out. Seeing no hope in fighting both at the same time in close combat, he sheathed his rapier and uncoiled his rope with the grappling hook on the end, whirling it around before hurling it at the knight to his right. The man easily dodged the grapple, but not before Marcus yanked it back and around his sword, disarming him with ease. Marcus then ran between the two, whirling his improvised weapon to wrap around the disarmed knight's neck, neatly snapping it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last knight charged at him, slashing unpredictably as he drew his rapier again to parry. They exchanged blows for several moments, before Marcus finally gained the upper hand, parrying the knight's longsword away and spinning around to give the blond-haired man a kick to the side of the head in the opposite direction in which he was moving to dodge, resulting in a loud crack as he collapsed to the floor, his neck bent to an abnormal angle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus took a moment to retrieve his dagger and rope and regain his bearings again, then rushed to the gate control room, easily dispatching the knight inside. He quickly inserted the stolen key into a machine, and pulled the lever which would open the western gate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A series of loud rumblings from below told him that Sim had succeeded in destroying the underground storage chambers, and a series of surprised shouts indicated that the gate had opened. The battle had begun.

Aitey here I go... Armaneth pushed me to do this. :lol:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The older Aming, temporarilly called "Rain", stood close behind the younger Aming, daggers drawn in preparation. Her heart was racing, her mind feeling a little dizzy as she was being hit with memory after memory, although changed this time, of the battle that was to come. She could not focus on these memories now. It would be too damaging for herself and the future. As she watched the gates crash open, there was a cry of surprise, then a launch of black knights streaming their way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zonorhc motioned them to hold their stance. Lady Frost, although fine for the most part, remained as guard for the wagon with Vandiel accompanying her. Aleksander was in the rear, arrows ready and Aryl prepared some spells. Corwin, Zonorhc, and Aming were in the front. Saben, Rain, and Armaneth were in the middle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zonorhc raised his arm and jerked his hand foward, the signal to move. Soon the group swiftly made their way, spitting into directions: Corwin with Saben, Zonorhc with Armaneth, and Aming with Rain. The clash of metal and shower of red soon painted the skies and earth as storm clouds began to move in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A flash of lightning, a roll of thunder... And soon the sound of murder... The old rhyme echoed in Aming's mind as she launched a lightning bolt at several knights, sending some to ground dead, others paralyzed. Rain mumbled under her breath as she scissored her daggers through the knights behind Aming, blasts of water coming from the blades. Knights showered against the fortress, bloodied and covered with mud. Heavy torrents of rain began to fall, daggers of light danced across the sky, and the growl of thunder soon came. And as they did, Aming turned to face Rain just as she was overtaken by six knights at once.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"RAIN!" Aming cried as she called forth her sword to try to rescue her partner. The storm clouds made the light almost that of night and it was hard to see through the heavy rains and hear above the roar of the winds and thunder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Rain was struggling from the pile, stabbing blinding. "Aming! Don't get near! It's too dangerous!" she tried to shout, but her voice was carried away by the wind. Grudgingly she resorted to a telepathic message. "Don't get near! It's too dangerous! I might hit you on accident!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile Aleksander and Aryl were taking down those that managed to get past the others, frowning as the wind moved their projectiles off course from time to time, making it hard to keep them back as far as they wanted. "Any ideas on how long this is going to last?" Aleksander asked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"A lot longer than expected now that this storm has come up suddenly," Aryl responded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Look out!" Aleksander yelled as an arrow came flying towards Aryl. Aryl shot out a fire spell and shielded her eyes as it exploded on the arrow, the ashes immediately engulfed by the wind. "That was close," he said, helping her up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I think our mysterious archer, Smedos, is here," Aryl grumbled. She murmered prayer to dispell the attacking arrows. "Let's just focus on protecting our friends. Chances are he won't shoot at them with all this wind."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back to Aming and Rain, Aming ignored Rain's warning and wrenched away two knights with her sword, catching a fleeting glance of Rain, who was doubled over in pain from stab wounds but still fighting away. Suddenly Aming felt a surge of magic and she leapt back just as Rain released a wave of water that sent the remaining knights surrounding her sprawling. Aming immediately finished them off with another lightning attack before running to Rain's side, who was limping towards her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You're hurt!" she exclaimed, noting the bloodied robes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'll be fine, don't worry. We need to finish the rest of them, come on! The others have their own sides to worry about!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming furrowed her brow, not waiting to push Rain's limits, but something in her voice made her swallow her protests as they turned to face another wave of knights. "We'll combine attacks then to preserve some energy," Aming said. "You launch another one of those water waves first. I'll take care of the rest."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain nodded, murmering the same spell once again, though at a lower scale this time. Aming sensed this. She's growing weary fast after that last assault, so I better make this count... "Saradomin Fulmen!" Aming shouted. There was a flash of light as a large jagged bolt came onto the wave heading towards the knights, electricity sparking the air. The knights gave out a cry of pain and fear as they were electricuted and drowned at the same time in full force. The smell of burning flesh hovered in the air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Aming turned to look at Rain, she gave out a cry of surprise as she found her lying on her side, unconscious. She hurried over to her and quickly assessed the situation. Rain had already lost a lot of blood and her breathing was faint. The wind had wrenched the last few shreads of her cloak and now only her hair covered her face. Gently Aming brushed it away just as lightning lit up the sky for exactly five seconds. And in those five seconds...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What the... She... she looks exactly like me!"

Armaneth charged the black knights and roared his challenge as he struck the first knight with Frostwind. Being an enchanted blade, Frostwind did more than simply slice through metal and flesh, but it also caused an explosion of ice, which in turn took out 3 other knights nearby. A torrent of rain soaked the battle field, and the swordsmage used it to his advantage. Targetting a section of the downpour, he commanded the water to freeze together into deadly spears, which fell on a pack of knights in the back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zonorhc was like a raging whirlwind. any knight that got within his reach fell quickly. It was like watching dance to watch Zonorhc. He confronted a pack of 12 knights, and immediately took out 2 with a single slash across their necks. Armaneth took on his own challenge of 8, which were immediately taken out by a wave of water and lightning. Armaneth turned to see Aming staring at a fallen Rain, whose face he could plainly see.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

'No...' He thought, fear suddenly flooding over him. 'She knows...' A new feeling rushed over him as he felt a sudeen burning pain across his side. With renewed rage, he turned and took out his attacker with a mighty blow that sent the hapless knight flailing into his fellow's sword. Armaneth raised his hand toward the sky, holding a black orb, and muttered, "Jekar iryn." A portal rippled into existence before him, and out of it flew 4 Nether elementals, which began to barrel mercilessly into the Black Knight forces.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With his summons on the rampage Armaneth cast a few more frost novas to cause more chaos, then ran to the aid of Aming and Rain. A few arrows whizzed over his head into the black knight ranks, courtesy Aleksander and Frost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Siding to a halt he knelt down beside the Magess, and looked Rain over. He faced Aming with a grim setting on his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I am able to heal her, but we need to be away from battle and a place where I can concentrate without interruption." Armaneth said as lifted Rain from the mud and began making his way towards the wagon. "I'm sure Vandiel will be able to aid me in this."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel took down another knight with an upward swing. He was keeping count, 17 had so far made it to him that he had taken out, and 5 more stood nearby. Gesturing to where 3 of the knights had gathered together, he muttered an incantation and sent a wave of earth, shaped like a reaching hand, to drive them into the ground. That it did, and right after the claw had sunk back down, taking the knights with it, he saw Armaneth carrying Rain back towards him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Aleksander, Frost, give them cover!" Vandiel yelled to the archers as he charged more knights coming towards him. Suddenly one of Armaneth's elementals slammed 3 of the knights with it's large mace, which looked to be made of shadows, just as the elemental did. Bowing its head to Armaneth, who was about to race past Vandiel, the elemental vanished.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slowing his pace from a jog to a walk, the swordsmage looked at Vandiel. "Come, I require your skills in herblore." He managed to say as he moved behind the wagon and climbed inside. Aming followed closely, biting her lower lip nervously. The Druid had gotten a look at Rain's wounds as Armaneth carried her past, and wondered what he could do as he stepped up behind the swordsmage.

 

 

 

---------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More to explain on Armaneth: His father, Laronath, gave him and his brothers an inherent ability to use Nether magicks. Armaneth does not use them as often as his overwhelming power over ice, but he does both elements together at times.

Vandiel surveyed Rain with interest under the cover of the wagon wondering how to cure this strange illness that had struck her down. "It seems as if once again these foes have resorted to using poison on their weapons. However this is extremely more complicated than the one that Frost had be affected by."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Her wounds can be easily fixed given time and rest and some healing salves that I have in my pack, but as I said before this poison is something I have only seen in the Herb Tomes, since its such a outdated poison, they only used in it the Great wa-." Armaneth seems to realize the Vandiel wasn't as he seemed and interjected. "ThatÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s all well and good, but how can you cure her?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well I'm sure that if we can break into the herb room of this castle I can get the required herbs to mix a cure and restock my inventory, we could also destroy all of their stocks of poisons and such. It would cripple them severely."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth stepped forward "You won't be able to infiltrate it yourself, you'll need someone to help you" at that moment Aryl burst in. "We need help! They just keep coming, we need you all out here NOW."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel and Armaneth kept low while running around to a back entrance that had been explained to them, with the attack going on, only a few guards would be posted there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel drew Armads and Dunthal out and mentioned to Armaneth to do draw his weapon. Vandiel peered around the corner looking to see the position of the guards. He saw 2 on the left side and 1 on the right. "Armaneth, on 3 I'll go for the 2 on the left and you can take the right one? 1 2 3!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel positioned the sword so he could roll without being punctured in the lung; he leapt out to the side, rolling into a crouch and landed on the left side of the small courtyard at the back of the castle. The guards yelled in surprise and 1 ran to call for back up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth ran out and engaged a Knight, he cut, thrust and parried, the Knight never had a chance. Armaneth dispatched him with ease and then went over to the door. Meanwhile Vandiel has killed the remaining Knight and was checking the body for any possessions that could be useful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Vandiel, can you see any sort of key? The door in locked!" Vandiel was rummaging around while standing over the Knights lifeless corpse. "It's no use Armaneth, he doesn't have anything on him."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth took a few steps backwards a kicked the door in. "Well that works just as well as using a key" He peered in and looked to the side, long narrow hallways with torches in brackets stretched for what seemed like eternity going both ways.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"It's too dangerous for us to split Armaneth, so we can't cover as much ground as I'd like in a short time, so we need to pick which way to go."

 

 

 

Armaneth looked down each corridor. "Lets go down the right one."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel and Armaneth made their way down the long dank corridors, their foot steps echoing down the stone passage possibly altering left over garrisons that they where approaching. Armaneth motioned for Vandiel to stop. Knights could be heard talking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We need to get some of this new explosive potion to the front lines, we're being slaughter out there!!" Another Knight, obviously a subordinate piped up. "Which one is the explosive one then?" "Well I'm not exactly sure, but I heard one of the herbologists say something about them being an orange in color"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just then a loud boom sound was heard, a massive fireball came exploding out of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

 

 

 

Finally Done, I'm quite sorry about how long its taken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

/me kicks writers block

Hey guys, sorry I've been gone so long -- I just read Armaneth's PM, apparently I'm Missing-In-Action? I have a story plot which fits that theme, but I'm not sure I should post it, since I'm also NOT sure as to whether or not I'm still part of this... If I'm not no problem, I accept the consequence to my inactivity, but if I am, let me know, I have an interesting plot shift to add :).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EDIT: Finished reading *whew.. took awhile*, and also found that I hadn't exactly been kicked out.. So.. I'll post anyway, I'll delete if I'm out though.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Alduineth! Save yourself, GO!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Father, I'll handle them, you go!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Alduineth! GO NOW! You must!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thunder cracked the sky in two, and Alduineth bolted awake. He shivered, the dreams were recurring more often, a horrible nightmare reminding him of his failure. Quietly, and with pain from his cracked ribs, he rose, walking across the cave floor to find Wynsor, huddled in a corner, weeping silently. There was nothing he could do to comfort him, but as he thought of it, Alduineth was overcome with a deep hate for the Black Knights that had done it -- killed his father, mercilessly, hacking him to bits after he had died valiantly, giving Alduineth and Wynsor a chance to escape.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alduineth stared out at the night, wondering. He thought he had long overcome the sorrow of his father's death; it had been nearly three months ago, but his mind always went back to that fateful night. He shifted his thoughts quickly away from the painful memories, and wondered of the Legion, and the men and women he had met so briefly in Draynor Village. They were the ones, he knew, they were the ones to form once more the legendary Legion of Guthix. I must find them again thought Alduineth. He knew the task would be immense, to locate the chosen few, but he would do it -- he had to. For his father.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That morning he and Wynsor set out, the first step on a long journey to ending the evils which plagued Geilenor.

 

 

 

-----------------------------------------------

 

 

 

No time lol, didn't get to the plot twist, but I'll leave it at that.[/i]

gee! this story is Sooooo interesting! i hope a spot will become vacant soon, i REALLY want to be envolved

 

 

 

i Luv creative writing

CB, by any chance are you done with your post? Kinda lost as to how to go from this point...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EDIT: Okay he's done... o.O So... next! :P

For continuity's sake, I'd like to remind whoever's writing next that:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1) Simirillion sabotaged the Black Knights' storage areas.

 

 

 

2) Marcus opened the fortress's front gates from the inside.

It's your turn Zonorhc, have fun.

But then we're all seperated, so it doesn't matter what order the posts are in for a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-----------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth and Vandiel ran towards the source of the explosion. Bits of burning wood lay in the hallway, along with the still smoking corpses of the Black Knights. Waves of heat came from the storage room, and the crates inside were burning furiously.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We'll have to hurry if we want those herbs!" Armaneth said as he rushed in and began putting the fires out with frost spells. As he finished putting out the fires, Vandiel would come behind to check what was there. Finally they came to a small metal box, which had a rather large pad lock on it. Using a spell to freeze the metal, Armaneth snapped the lock and dropped the crumbling metal to the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel opened and pulled out a slightly withered leaf. "This is what we need." he said after studying the herb. "And there's a very powerful poison in here too." He says after pulling a vial of dark green liquid out of the container.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Let me see that, I may find a way to use it." Armaneth says, gingerly taking the poison from the Druid. Catiously he shook the vial to make the liquid swirl. It was too thin to be applied to a weapon. "A poisonous gas I presume?" he asks, glancing at the druid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Aye, that it is. There's more in here, and this is all we need. Let's get back before someone comes." Vandiel says as he closes the box and heads down the hall. Just then foot steps were heard coming at them from behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Go, I'll hold them off." Armaneth says he runs off towards the knights. Vandiel bolts in the other direction, towards the exit and towards the camp. Armaneth stops as soon as he sees the first of the knights, then he throws the vial at the one in front. The vial breaks on the man's chest plateimmediately a green cloud forms and rushes over the knights. Armaneth began to run back after Vandiel, leaving the knights to their suffering.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he reached the door there was already another force of guards there, triple the last group. They shouted as soon as they saw him, and charged. The first reached Armaneth and slashed at a downward angle, which the swordsmage parried and countered. The first fell along with 3 others as Armaneth sent a flurry of icicles at them. Two more teamed Armaneth by attacking him from either side. After parrying for a good while Armaneth finally punched one knight's helmet in, kicked the sword out of his hands, and stepped behind so that the dazed man took a stab rather than Armaneth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now the swordsmage summoned a copy of Frostwind and charged at the remaining four. He was like a whirlwind in how he fought, parrying and slahing at the same time. With a battle roar Armaneth brough both halves of Frostwind on one of the knights, creating a huge explosion of ice that took out the rest of the guard. With a slight show of twirling his blades, Armaneth put the halves back together and strolled out of the castle back to camp.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel stepped back as he finished administering the anti poison ointment. Now Armaneth knelt down beside Rain to seal her wounds. Drawing on ancient energies long sleeping, Armaneth focused and conjured a blue aura around his hands. As he did this he held his hands over each of the cuts, which began to seal when the healing energies were poured over them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Armaneth finished he nearly fell over. The drain was great on him, and Vandiel had to help steady him. Taking a small drink of water from a nearby water skin to regain his senses, Armaneth watched Rain patiently. It was all he really could do at the moment, he felt like he was about to black out. After a few minutes Rain began to stir, and Armaneth was suddenly assailed by a sense of vertigo. He wobbled and fell over, and just before he blacked out he could hear the Judge chuckling in the back of his head.

 

 

 

---------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's always gotta be something happening.

Good post. :) I'll try to see if I can post something later, unless I get caught up in something. :-?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yea... it's me, ForsakenMage. Except I'm on campus. >_<

Confirmation: yes that was me lol.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyway... here goes...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blood. Scream. Silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shadow. Darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The images all blurred into some sort of vortex in her mind, swirling and waving. Rain could barely keep her balance as she was overwhelmed by the vision. She staggered backwards, unable to take it much more, wanting to flee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then the sudden drop. A horrendous lurch began to pull her further and further down into the depths of the unknown. She couldn't scream, couldn't see. All she knew was that she was falling...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Wh-hat...?" A thin line of light pierced her vision and she winced softly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THUD!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain became more alert just as she heard Armaneth hit the ground besides her, unconscious.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Armaneth!" she yelped, scrambling to her knees, only to waver a little. She clumbsily placed one hand on the ground and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to steady herself before helping Armaneth into a more comfortable position on the ground. Worriedly she looked at her companion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm afraid he's relied on ancient energy little used to heal you, Rain."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain turned around and found Aming staring down at her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Vandiel asked me to watch over you and said I should rest," Aming explained. "Are you and Armaneth all right?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain sighed a little. "I should be fine in a few moments. But Armaneth..." She looked over the swordsmage anxiously. "I don't know yet..." she finished, looking back at Aming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Aming asked softly, yet sternly as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was then Rain realized that nothing shrouded her face, and that she was in open light. With a nervous voice, she choked on next few words. "Te-tell you what?" she asked feebly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"That you're me."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain turned back to Armaneth, putting a hand to his forehead to give him some sort of physical relief as she spoke. "Aming, if I could explain to you, I would. But if anyone outside our group finds out, it could mean great harm coming to you. I am not you... In a sense at least."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"But you're me, aren't you?" Aming persisted. "Maybe you traveled through time from the future somehow." Rain cringed slightly, recalling the earlier events that had lead them to this point. She looked up when Aming gasped and stepped back a little. "Maybe you're something the Hell's Judge sent to deceive us!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"No! Aming, please listen to me. I am not here to harm you..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming shook her head fearfully. "Please... just leave me alone..." Before Rain could say another word, Aming hurried away from the wagon to assist with the defense.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With a tired sigh, Rain turned back to Armaneth and carefully covered him with a blanket to keep him warm while trying to figure out what ailed her friend. Armaneth, please be okay...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Aming continued to run away from the wagon, almost blinded by fear and anger. The fact that Rain had indirectly told her that she was her future-self made it very hard for her to concentrate now. A voice in her head continually screamed at her, telling her that Rain was merely something sent by the Judge, while her heart tugged at her to go back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As lightning ribboned across the slowly clearing night sky, Aming summoned her staff to help aid in the continuing wave of Black Knights headed for them. She looked up at the sky and gasped.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kiran and Sim have been inside the fortress for too long! Something's keeping them up!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Face now turning grim she continued a barrage of water bolts at the Black Knights, making her way closer and closer to the fortress...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming fell to the ground, face flat, having tripped over the body of a fallen knight. She tried to get up quickly in the muddy ground just as a foot came slamming down onto her back, sending her face back into the mud.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? The little Guardian herself. Got lost?" a sinister voice whispered. Its owner carefully edged its scythe towards her neck. "Now then... Shall we make this a quick, painless death... Or shall we make this a slow and painful one?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Neither," Aming mumbled. She cringed as she felt the cool metal edge closer to her neck. "I rather have been in battle and died than to be pinned down as part of a butterfly collection."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hah!" The Judge smirked as he kicked her away, sending her rolling across the ground. Aming got up, covered in mud, her eyes blazing in anger. The Judge mockingly beckoned her to come near.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hold it!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What?!" The Judge turned around, just in time to meet the end of a staff in his eye. He staggered back in surprise, then blinked. "Two?!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming looked over to Rain nervously while Rain continued to stare down at the Judge, her forehead creased in concentration of a spell. This was her chance to head towards the fortress. Without another word, she turned heels and ran again, dodging swiftly between the knights.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain glared at the Judge slightly. "Will you not fight me?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Judge looked at her skeptically. This has to be a mere trick. The little mage is deceiving me! It's someone else! Yet, why does she seem so familiar... No. It's someone else. She's only trying to fool me! It's only that little fool I met earlier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hah, and waste my energy one someone as old as you are?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry, does my age make you fear I will have much more knowledge to perhaps harm you?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Judge stepped back slightly. With a snarl he lunged foward. Rain caught the onslaught of his scythe with her staff while firing a blast of white mage into his chest. The Judge flew back, disarmed. Rain snatched up the scythe and threw it towards him, pinning his cloak to the ground. The Judge muttered a spell, casting a large ball of fire towards Rain. Before she could react, another spell came in contact with the fireball. Rain turned towards her right and found Aryl running towards them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Rain!" she shouted fearfully. "Look out!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain turned around and barely managed to block a punch from the Judge with her arm. She summoned her sword to replace her staff and desperately tried to strike the Judge. The Judge wrenched off his cloak and took out a sword from mid-air and began to parry. Rain scissored her sword around his the best she could.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming leapt over the corpses of fallen knights that Armaneth and Vandiel had fought earlier to obtain the antidote, her mind set on finding either Sim or Marcus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A shout came from behind her and she yelped in surprise to find a small squad of Black Knights heading towards her. She looked ahead and quickly climbed up a series of spiraling stairs towards the gate control room when she met Marcus halfway at the top, leaning against the wall with a stab wound to his leg and a knight sprawled out, dead with a dagger in its chest. She turned her attention back to the knights still climbing up the stairs and began to mumble in arcane words. Floating balls of lightning appeared in front of her and hurriedly sped down the stairs, increasingly growing in size as they struck the knights down like bowling pins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming tore a piece of her cloak off to bandage Marcus temporarily. "Where's Sim?" she asked as she finished.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before Marcus could answer, the suddenly loud halt of footsteps made them both look down. A series of archers donned in dragon hide armor had their arrows pointed straight at them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Halt."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EDIT: Fixed some spelling errors.

Marcus swore. Six archers against Aming and himself, and he was injured.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Think fast. Talk fast.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What in the hells are you waiting for?" Marcus shouted at the archers. "Can't you see that this woman's about to finish me off?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The two archers in the front rank glanced at each other, obviously confused as to what to do. Aming gave him a shocked look, but composed herself quickly and played along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Take her to the dungeon, you bumbling idiots! I'll deal with her later."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One archer motioned with his bow for Aming to follow them, and she complied without a word. Marcus limped behind, though the wound was fairly shallow. The archers set a slow pace to accomodate his exaggerated leg injury, and he quickly assessed each one of them from what was said in small talk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He leaned close to the archer on his right, whom he had taken to be one of the unquestioningly obedient, gullible type. "Don't say a word, but I have good reason to believe that that one," he pointed to one of the more intelligent archers in the group, "is a Misthalin spy."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The archer's eyes widened. "What should I do, sir?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Do you need to ask me about what to do with a spy?" hissed Marcus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Well, sir, you did tell us to throw the woman into the dungeon."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I want to torture that one. Spies aren't worth torture, and you know that."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I guess," said the archer with a shrug, nocking an arrow onto his bowstring and sighting down the shaft at the archer Marcus had indicated. With a moment of hesitation, he let fly, the arrow striking true and punching into the back of the other's neck, sending him to the ground in a rapidly growing pool of blood. All the other archers spund around, bows levelled with arrows nocked at the offender.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The archer stammered, "He was a-"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"This man is a traitor!" shouted Marcus, pointing to the archer and interrupting him. "Kill him!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The other archers let fly, and the one Marcus had spoken to stumbled back and fell, four arrows protruding from his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The nearest of the remaining four archers barely had time to utter a cry as Marcus quickly drew a dagger and plunged it into his stomach as soon as he had loosed his arrow. The other three confusedly dropped their weapons and drew their own blades, having seen the bloody dagger in Marcus' hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming smiled as she materialised her sword, and Marcus flipped the dagger to his left hand to draw his rapier with his right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What is this?" demanded one of the archers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"It's called a deception, you gibbering idiot," replied Marcus, suddenly lunging forward with dexterity belied by his earlier show of limping. The archer parried the rapier just enough to avoid having it lodged in his throat, and jumped back as Marcus followed through, spinning and slashing downward with the dagger. The archer took the offensive, ineptly hacking sideways with his shortsword, and Marcus responded by pinning the blade with his dagger and rapping the man in the face with the pommel of his rapier, sending him backwards with a bloody nose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming had taken the offensive as well, and had engaged the other two, ducking and weaving about to avoid being flanked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus swiftly dispatched his stunned opponent and turned to help Aming, only to find that one of her opponents had disengaged her and was already swinging his blade at him. He ducked mere inches under the sword to avoid decapitation, and tumbled backward and onto his feet, ready for his opponent's next move.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The archer feinted right and left before striking down the middle, but Marcus easily saw through the poorly-executed attack. He caught the blade between his rapier and the fort̮̩̉̉ of his dagger, twisting hard and wrenching it out of his opponent's grip. The man fumbled to catch his blade as it flew out of his hand, and collapsed gurgling to the ground as Marcus' sword point found its way into his larynx.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming finished off her own opponent, and they headed for the front doors.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The entry chamber was heavily fortified when they arrived, the black knights having barred the doors and set up in defensive positions. From their position in the dark corridor, they assessed the situation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I can destroy the bar," whispered Aming, "but I don't see how we can take on all those men. I won't have enough energy left to cast any more spells."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I mark fourteen men there, possibly more," said Marcus. "Destroy the barricades and I'll try to find a way to get us both out of here."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming nodded and intoned a spell, and the heavy wooden beam exploded with a burst of high-pitched sound. "Go, Kiran."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus darted in, silently killing two of the men in the rear of the chamber as the others were stunned and slightly deafened by the residual noise of the shattering spell. The other knights recovered quickly and saw the threat, and closed in on Marcus, who stood by one of the tall columns in the chamber. They had not appeared to have noticed Aming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was suddenly parrying and dodging attacks with great speed as the black knights surrounded him, and he barely had time to notice Aming slipping past the m̮̻̉̉l̮̩̉̉e and pusing the doors slightly open. He tumbled out of the press of enemies, but found himself on the opposite side of the knights rather than where he had intended to be. Cursing, he retreated back to the corner of the room as they closed in once more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His boot struck wood as he neared the wall, and he was suddenly aware of a wholly unpleasant odour in his nose. He struggled for a moment to place the scent as the knights closed the distance and Aming watched from the doorway, appearing exhausted beyond spellcasting ability.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The horror of realising what it was he could smell suddenly dawned on him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Naptha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Barrels upon barrels of the incredibly flammable liquid lining the walls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You won't be able to escape, anyway. Might as well take the rest of this place down with you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Plunging his dagger into the lid of the nearest barrel and releasing an invisible cloud of flammable vapours, he shouted, "Aming, get out of here as fast as you can! Don't worry about me - Go!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She nodded and complied, dashing out of the doors as several black knights glanced toward where she had been. The others were nearly upon Marcus, almost seeming to enjoy their slow, mocking pace as they closed on their outnumbered opponent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marcus grinned manically even as his heart beat faster and his breathing became shallow from the fumes. With a finally wink at his opponents, he spun around quickly and struck his rapier across the dagger with all his might, sending sparks flying as he laughed carelessly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One spark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The air was suddenly a rapidly wavering shimmer of oranges and reds, and the sudden eruption of flames stunned the black knights.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For a brief moment which seemed to last forever, frozen in time, nothing happened - then the tongues of burning air licked at the barrels, and the entire chamber erupted in a violent roar of flames and flying splinters mingled with the horrified shouts of men being roasted alive in their armour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The doors, the walls, the ceiling - all burst outward from the sudden pressure of the consuming flames inside the chamber, and the noise became unbearable to those outside. Soon, the heat washed over onlookers as well, though not as intensely as it had in the chamber.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Above all the cacophony was the manic laughter of one man.

Ok, after a long time of not postingness, and constant urgings to post from a certain person who's name begins with A, I shall post, as Burnt Arven has not.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming ran past countless doors in a stone labyrinth and she knew that she needed to escape no matter what. Fortunately for her, the imbecilic Blacknights had put large signs indicating how to escape. As Aming ran she thought it was extremely odd that she had no encounter with any Knights.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She then saw light from behind a large wooden door; all thoughts of Blacknights disappeared from her mind when she saw this. Aming rushed up to the doors and started to push the heavy doors open.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She heard a familiar voice shout out "Get ready! More are coming" Suddenly a gleaming red blade shot into through the wooden door, almost impaling Aming on the spot. She screamed and shouts from behind the door could be heard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Corwin you fool, thatÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s Aming back there! You could have killed her!" Zonorhc could be heard yelling at Corwin. "You can't be so rash! You know that there are allies in there!" Aming pushed the door open to see Zonorhc towering over Corwin yelling at him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming stepped forward and to explain that it was an accident, and that no one was to blame when a loud rumble was heard, and the ground started shaking. Saben who had been watching Corwin and Zonorhc argue when he started to speak. "We need to get out of here quick" He started to run.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming, Zonorhc and Corwin knew better to question the monk and started to run, just as they got about 20 meters away the Castle erupted into flames, then a large explosion shook the ground and the group was thrown to the ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Large chunks of rocks flew around them as the threw their hands over their ears to muffle the roar of the explosion. Small bits of rubble rained over them, dust covering the battlefield.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel who was trying to ascertain Armaneth's condition turned to Frost and Aleksander who had been providing cover for him while he was working. "Please watch over him while I find out whatÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s going on." Frost nodded. Vandiel stepped out from around the caravan and saw a shell of low walls, the remains of the once strong Black Knight fortress.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel stood still, unable to fathom how this could of happened, he surveyed the area, and no Black Knights could be seen. Vandiel withdrew his swords and stepped forward, still wary of a Black Knight ambush.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once the dust had settled, he could see some figures stirring on the ground; he approached them cautiously, until he realized that they were Aming, Corwin, Zonorhc and Saben. He rushed up towards them while keeping low to the ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Are you ok?? Are you hurt anywhere?" Vandiel rushed out quickly. Zonorhc stood up and shook the dirt of himself "A bit dusty, but otherwise ok" Vandiel and Zonorhc started to help Aming and Saben up, as Corwin was already heading back to the caravan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They trooped back, supporting Aming who had an injury that looked like a sprained ankle. Once they got back to the caravan, Vandiel started checking for injuries. Once he was sure that everyone was ok, he went back to check on Armaneth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suddenly another explosion shook the ground, and a scream was heard from a distance. As sudden as the explosion, Armaneth's eyes shot open.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Done now, Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~Chaosbringer

Ah, now it's my turn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth sat upright and immediately bolted out of the tent towards the scream. As he ran a blue aura began to emenate and brighten around him. Frost trailed behind him, ice was left in his footsteps and his armour gleamed like the sun on ice, despite the dust that filled the air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Judge stood over the two incappacitated mages. They had both been struck in the head by pieces of the wall. The Judge laughed mockingly and raised his scythe. Just before the blade struck Rain, it was stopped by a shield of ice harder than dragon scales. A bright light came upon him and an impossible cold was unleashed. Armaneth came in fury, and he was both kingly and terrible to look upon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"How dare you come between me and my prey?!" The Judge cried in outrage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth stared at him with cold, glowing eyes and replied with an ominous yet mocking voice, "Why don't you try something new for a change?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Judge charged Armaneth with a flurry of blades. Armaneth uttered a great Warcry and met Judge's scythe with Frostwind. Armaneth pressed his assault, feinting right and slashing left, managing to catch the Judge's robes. The Judge brought his scythe in a downward sweep, seeking to slice Armaneth in half. Parrying, he cast a spell of distraction. Lights erupted infront of the Judge's eyes. With his enemy distracted, Armaneth knocked away the scythe, and blasted the Judge with a bolt of Nether and Ice magic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The robed figure went flying through the air, screaming along the way. Armaneth turned to help Rain and Aryl. Aryl stirred when he gently shook her. When she tried to stand with Armaneth's help, she gasped in pain. Her right leg had been struck in several places by debris, and her ankle was bent at an odd angle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Helping her sit back down, Armaneth went to check on Rain. It took a bit more to wake her, and when she got up she could walk without aid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Aryl will have to be carried back to the caravan." Armaneth informed her. "I took care of the Judge for now, though I'm sure he'll be back soon."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Then we'd best hurry." Rain said as she started running toward the caravan. Armaneth carried Aryl back to the caravan on his back, as it was easier for him to fight that way should he need to. Luckily they got back without confrontation, and Armaneth noted that Sim had returned while he was away fighting the Judge. The thief immediately came to Aryl's side, his face full of worry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth laid his hand on Sim's shoulder. "She'll be fine, I'm sure Vandiel has something. You might want to take care of her ankle yourself though." He said the last bit while looking into Aryl's eyes. She nodded, and Sim reached for the accused ankle. As gently as he could, he twisted it back into position, and Aryl cried out in pain. Sim sat down beside Aryl and wrapped his arm around her for comfort, and Armaneth turned to tend to Rain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She had a nasty bruise and cut on her head, the shape of a brick. Armaneth pressed a warm, damp cloth against the wound gently, causing Rain to cringe. She held the cloth up herself as Armaneth sat beside her, being the only place left to really sit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Seems to me that the knights have decided to quit." Armaneth said observantly. Rain just nodded sleepily. It started to sprinkle again, which was a good thing. The moisture would remove the dust, and the blood would be washed away. Armaneth leaned back and fell into a light sleep.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Corwin looked over the group. It had been a long, tiring, and very bloody battle. Taking a mental headcount, he noticed that they were one short.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Where is Kiran?" he asked. Suddenly everyone looked at him in dawning horror. Kiran had never left the castle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We must search for him." Zonorhc said. "Vandiel, Saben, and Aleksander shall stay here to watch over those that aren't able to look for him." And so the search began. Zonorhc, Frost, Corwin, and Sim went out and searched the rubble of the castle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Over here!" cried Corwin, who had managed to find Kiran's rapier. Now everyone searched faster, and soon Corwin had located Kiran under a pile of rubble. The descendant of Zonorhc was dead.

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Done :D

Grr at writer's block! DIE! :shock:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming stared out towards the direction of the ruins of the Black Knights Castle, fearing the worst for Kiran. She glanced back down at her bandaged ankle ruefully, wishing she wasn't stuck sitting in the wagon and out looking for Kiran. I shouldn't have listened... I should have gone and help him... And now...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Aming..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aming turned to her right and found Rain looking sadly at her. "I know how you feel. But do not lose hope now. You've still much more ahead."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"How much more...?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I cannot say..." Rain shook her head. "One day you will understand just how fragile time is, and what can and cannot be said in order to ensure the glass does not shatter." She stood up shakily to change the bandage on her head just as the search party returned. Between Corwin and Zonorhc was a makeshift cot with a covered body on it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh no... They...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frost stepped up to rest of the group, face grim and tearstained. After several moments of silence, she spoke. "Corwin found Kiran under some rubble. He... He's passed on."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain stared in complete and utter shock. Kiran... Dead...? He can't be...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"No... Why... It's my fault he's dead," Aming whispered, tears brimming up in her eyes. "Oh why did I go without him!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zonorhc knelt down in front of Aming and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault. Don't blame your-"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Yes it is! He told me to go on without him, but I should have stayed! I-"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zonorhc shook his head slightly. Aming knew there was no sense in arguing with him and broke down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain walked over to the cot and gently uncovered Kiran's face. She found a slight smile on his face, a smile of accomplishment. Before she could stop herself, she uttered barely audiable. "To die in the past, to die before creation... The thought pains me as I mourn..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Rain, did you say something?" Zonorhc asked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"N-no... Nothing... I was just saying a prayer for him..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"He was a good warrior."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"He was more than that... He was a good friend." Oh Zonorhc, here your grandson lies before you and you don't even know... If only I could tell you... But you have to live on not knowing... He was the one that probably saved us all...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hours later, a funeral pyre burned in the late afternoon light. The drizzle continued to steadily drift across the landscape, leaving dew drops on the grass. As those of the past bowed in respect and uttered words of kindness, those of the future stood back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What do we do now?" Aleksander asked. "We've lost one of our own in an attempt to help these people move back on track. How many more will we lose?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Don't speak so," Armaneth said softly. "And don't let Rain hear you speak like that either. She's already in a bad enough state..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain stood furthest away from everyone, standing along at the edge of a cliff overlooking the valley below. She mourned silently, tearlessly. In her hands were Kiran's brooch and cloak, removed several minutes earlier. At the sound of footsteps, she looked over her shoulder and found Zonorhc looking at her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We'll be leaving at dawn," he said, "and head north in the Wilderness."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain nodded and began to head towards the pyre, her steps painstakingly slow. Armaneth held Kiran's rapier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We'll use it as a marker."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain sighed, handing the brooch over to Aleksander, then carefully folding the cloak, smoothing out any wrinkles. Armaneth stuck the rapier into the soft ground in front of the still-burning pyre. The sound seemed to slice the air, as though Kiran was giving one final thrust in battle before passing over. Rain gently placed the folded cloak in front of it and Aleksander placed the brooch on top of it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Descendent of the captain of the Royal Misthalin Lancers, hero of this time..." Rain choked on a sob. "Farewell, good friend and ally. May your rest be everlastingly peaceful."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Armaneth and Aleksander said a few words of their own, then silently the trio went back to the camp. Aleksander suddenly stopped and seemed to glance at the pyre, despite his blindness. "Wait." He ran ahead and picked up Kiran's crossbow and loaded it. He fired into the ground, then laid the crossbow besides the marker. Without another word, he began to heade towards the camp again, with Rain and Armaneth trailing behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"These next few weeks will be rough... Bandits and mercenaries roam the northern lands," Rain said to Armaneth. "If we want to stay alive, we're going to have to make sure nothing goes wrong again."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the pink light of dawn, the wagon was ready to move out again. Zonorhc got on his horse and took one final patrol around the area. As he did, he passed by the marker. His horse whinnied and reared up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Whoa!" Zonorhc whispered, patting the horse on the neck softly. "Easy, it's okay." When his horse finally calmed down somewhat, he stared at the marker. That's odd... Why is my brooch here... He checked himself, but found his still pinned on his cloak. No... It's still with me... It's one of a kind... So how did this appear? Frowning, he dismounted and examined it more carefully, although he resisted the urge to pick it up to examine it better. It looks exactly like mine, yet shows a hint of age. It was then he noted the cloak as well. Before he could even comment on it, a voice broke his thoughts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Zonorhc! We're ready to move out!" Saben called.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Right." Without another glance, Zonorhc got back on his horse and rode silently away from the site, not turning back to take a final glance, still not knowing the ashes were of his great-grandson.

Since a character has been lost and the turns have had to be adjusted(And from a little bit of nagging), it has been decided that I am to post next.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The caravan moved in silence. As the group moved northward an unnatural darkness began to descend. This darkness was caused by the evil that dwelt within the wilderness. Aryl and Sim were sleeping while still sitting up, each leaning against the other. Aryl's ankle had been numbed with a salve and wrapped so it would heal correctly. The same was done for Aming. Armaneth couldn't tell whether Rain was asleep or not, for she had kept her eyes closed thus far.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Deciding to take advantage of the silence, Armaneth sank into a meditation so that he could recover his strength. The confrontation with the Judge had taxed him. He had finally been able to summon some of his power into this world, but he knew it wasn't going to be enough for what was in store.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A slight rain began to pour and the Guardian turned his face skyward so that he may better feel the waters cooling touch. He wasn't use to these temperatures, but rather his frozen homeland. If an opportunity to cool down presented itself, Armaneth took it. Despite the look, his cloak actually held cold air closer to him, and his armor would give any normal instant frostbite should he touch it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thunder rolled loudly, but Armaneth took no notice. He was already deep in meditation, wandering familiar dreamscapes that resembled his homeland. A smile began to form on his face, but he was taken by surprise when a shadow came at him. Suddenly he was back in his body, and he wavered in his seat. Clutching the side of the wagon, he breathed deeply, and calmed himself again. Now he pulled his hood over his head and look over at Rain, who was now laying down and sleeping. Aryl and Sim hadn't moved at all, except for the occasional bump that shook the whole wagon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Guardian wondered what would be able to assault his mind like that. It hadn't happened before, not even during the War of the Trinity Blades. Summoning up his willpower, he returned to a deep meditation and confronted the shadow. It came at him as before but this time he was ready. The Guardian cast a mental shield about his dream figure, and stared at the shadow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You will trouble my mind no more." Armaneth said. The shadow simply laughed and drew itself up. Armaneth strengthened his barriers, and the shadow struck. Pure darkness collided ice and nether. It wasn't ready for the counter spells Armaneth had set, and it reeled in pain as a bolt of twisting blue and black energy snaked along its blade and into its body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm not through with you, insect." the Shadow hissed. Armaneth felt its presence shrink away, and he returned to reality. Small pieces of ash from the encounter were on his cloak.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wiping the ashes off, the Guardian muttered under his breath, "I'll be waiting."

There had been some problems, and my previous posts had not been submitted properly and therefore not shown, So I'm trying is again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Italics are thoughts BTW :P

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

 

 

 

Vandiel was sopping wet, his robes clung to his body. He had cast an old druidic spell on them to make them go from the Ceremonial pure white to an altering color, one that blends in with the surroundings. Of course at just a tad over 6ft tall he tended to stick out anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bleh... moving towards the northern lands... that means bandits and rouges, and injuries, which mean I'll be playing medic again. Sometimes I wonder why Guthix even wants me here in this god-forsaken land.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel increased his jogging pace as to catch up with Zonorhc at the head of the convoy. "Which way are we heading? The generalization of "Heading north towards the Wilderness " leaves open many different area's we're heading towards."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Are we going towards the Mage battle arena to get munitions, or perhaps the Demon ruins to get some anarchic spell? Or perhaps are we going towards the Bandit camp to form an Alliance?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zonorhc turned towards Vandiel "We're heading towards White Wolf Mountain, we need to get there post haste, no time shall be wasted, so we can't make a stop with the Druids of Taverley if thatÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s what your asking."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vandiel slowed down and repositioned himself jogging along side the back of the Wagon. Vandiel kept this up for awhile, but the constant running soon wore him out and he jumped into the back of the wagon, hoping not to disrupt any people who were resting. Getting a book on herbs he taken with him and started reading.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Short post plz0r!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~Chaosbringer

Sorry, some writer's block and whatnot..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain was asleep while the wagon moved on, but it wasn't very rejuvinating. The bump on her head wasn't helping as she woke up to a spliting headache and a light rain. She curled her legs up close to her chest and wrapped her arms around it, resting her head on her knees. Although the wagon jolted now and again, she did not move. Her thoughts went back to the past. It had been so long, and she was reliving it, although there were so many alterations it was hard to say if she could depend on memories anymore to help prevent what disasters she could that could potentially change the future in a bad way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She looked over to Aming, who appeared to be asleep still. It's a wonder no one's matched us up yet...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She thought too soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Rain?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain looked up and found Aryl staring her and Aming, frowning. Uh oh...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Rain... Tell me the truth: are you from the future? Are you Aming's future self?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Short post sorry. x.x Writer's block