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Author Topic: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (Epilogue)  (Read 17125 times)

Offline neverness

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #25 on: November 29, 2008, 02:36:44 AM »
CHAPTER 17

Mayor Schatz had seen enough. Clearly, a role he had since left behind him was in need of resurrection. Some skills never fade away, regardless of how many decades in the past you try to leave them. For the nine years he had been a witch hunter he had performed some deeds in the name of Sigmar, which, when his zeal began to wane, he started to regret. That regret made him a less effective witch hunter, so he stepped down from that office and started a new career in government. Now, decades later, living out the autumn years of his life in the honorable and less hectic role as a mayor of a small town, Mayor Schatz had hoped the skills of his youth would never be needed again.

When the reports reached his ears of the Grandmaster apparently falling down the crevasse thus pretty much nearly fulfilling the prophecy of Arst, the Mayor felt he had to do something. After all, the crème of high society was here waiting out the night; a Mayor not quite wanting to retire yet had to keep the constituency secure and happy. A visit to the field surgeon’s hospital building to acquire some tools and an assistant preceded the Mayors arrival to the dungeon. Whereupon he found the two guards watching the door of one cell in particular, the cell that he assumed he’d find Arst inside.

“Sergeant!” the field surgeon called out. The two men seemed to jump in surprise and the younger one even yelped.

“Sir!” saluted the Sergeant who instantly snapped to attention

“Sergeant, the is Mayor Schatz. We’ve come to examine the prisioner that was brought down here tonight. The man called Arst; is he in that cell?”

“Yes sir! And in good condition... He’s chained down to the floor so that he can’t harm himself.”

“Or cast any spells!” interjected the younger guard.

The Mayor’s eyebrow rose at that comment. He stepped up and set down a leather doctor’s bag upon one of the two guard stools that was in the hall.

“Has Mr. Arst tried to cast any spells tonight gentlemen?” he asked rhetorically while opening the bag.

“Um, n-no Sir!” Stammered the younger guard.

“You can never be too safe your Excellency!” added the Sergeant.

“True men, true.” The mayor said, and then he let his surgeon’s gloves snap. The field surgeon helped the Mayor adjust a black leather apron, and then they both nodded to each other and headed to the door, the surgeon picking up the leather bag as he passed the stool.

The guards produced the keys, and unlocked the cell. Arst was indeed chained to the floor, finally silent and perhaps sleeping, with his head resting in a small puddle of his own drool. He did not seem to react to the door opening. Mayor Schatz quickly deduced that either Arst was faking it or he was dead, as he did not make any sounds or indicate that he was breathing. The Mayor had hoped for this poor fool’s sake, that he was indeed dead. Fore if he was not, he’d soon be begging for it. As he stepped through the door’s threshold, he turned to the Sergeant and spoke:

“Lock us in. But be ready to open this door at a moment’s notice.”

He saw the fear in the younger man’s eyes. But chose not to say anything else.
 
The door shut firmly behind him and he could hear the locks tumbling into place. The Sergeant watched through the small barred view slot. The surgeon set his bag back down while Mayor pulled from beneath his shirt the Sigmarite holy symbol, which bore the seal of a Witch Hunter General in the Holy Order of the Templars of Sigmar. He rarely wore this amulet anymore, but he always made sure he did the night of Geheimnisbacht. The field surgeon was crouched down, examining the prisoner.

“The bleeding still hasn’t stopped, but it’s slowed down. The wound will not kill him so long as it’s kept clean and free from infection.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. We’ll guarantee that the infection will not set in.” spoke the Mayor as he pulled one of the two torches that lit this cell from it’s sconce and stepped toward the center of the small cell, “Go ahead and wake him, we’ll need him somewhat lucid if we’re to get any useful information from him.”

And then, the two men proceeded about their work, and the two guards in the hall outside would each gain a new nightmare…
         
« Last Edit: November 29, 2008, 05:06:08 AM by neverness »

Offline neverness

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #26 on: December 28, 2008, 12:56:18 AM »
It's clear to me that this has run it's course, so I'm thinking about tying up the subplots and wrapping this thing up in the next couple of weeks. Perhaps we climaxed with the fight with the Great Unclean one? I've got a wicked little twist cooked up so unless someone beats me to it... :icon_twisted:



Regardless, I had a lot of fun and I'm proud to say we put together a rather good story I think...

Offline Karl Voss of Averland

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #27 on: December 28, 2008, 01:17:06 AM »

Regardless, I had a lot of fun and I'm proud to say we put together a rather good story I think...


That you did! Thanks for sharing! Can't wait to read the finale.
« Last Edit: December 28, 2008, 06:14:54 PM by Midaski »
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Offline Captain Gerntass

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #28 on: January 17, 2009, 11:24:49 PM »
That was a hell of a good story, especialy with the greater deamon and the whitch hunter. Can't wait for the next instalment, I would add my own piece but I'm just to afraid to spoil it, please we beg of you,more.
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Offline neverness

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #29 on: January 18, 2009, 12:58:28 AM »
Thanks! I do have an ending written up, but I'm stuck on a few plot points that just need to be resolved. Actually, I'll confess it: I have no frigg'n idea what's in the vault! I'm usually fairly creative with this sort of stuff, but that one has me stumped.

By the way, ANYBODY can still contribute, the more the merrier! No contribution has been dismissed. In fact, someone posted a very short entry which changed the course of the whole plot (I introduced the GUO in my followup post) and it was the only contribution that person did and it was awesome. So, if anyone wants to take a crack at that, I'll be more than thankfull!

-Joel

Offline neverness

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #30 on: January 18, 2009, 02:30:28 AM »
Not the ending, but a necessary part toward it:

CHAPTER 18

“What’s your name son?" asked the Captain.

“Joshi Sir, Lo-“

“What are you doing up here on the wall? It’s midnight, Morrslieb is at’s it’s peak!”

“I was sent by-“

“I mean look at this mess!” exclaimed the wide-eyed Captain, who was just now beginning to reveal small cracks in the veneer of his calm and steady demeanor. He was gesturing toward the courtyard where men and soldiers were clearing out the burned and bloody bodies of soldiers and spawn alike. “Doesn’t this indicate to you lad that this is a dangerous place to be?”
 
The boy saw the opening and took it: “The Grandmaster is in danger!”

The young Captain was clearly getting impatient and he started to fluster as he said, “Young man. The Grandmaster, the hero of this night, single handedly stood up to a Greater Daemon fueled by the power of that cursed moon. I watched, and was briefly blinded by, the explosion that destroyed them both. Please, speak no more of our hero, everyone’s nerves are at the breakpoint, and we’ll never see the dawn’s light if the men protecting this castle lose their wits and their resolve.”

“But...” stammered Joshi, feeling helpless trying to relay his message.

“Guard,” signaled the Captain to a passing soldier, ”escort this lad to wherever he’s supposed be.”
“He’s alive!” yelled the boy.

“What!?” the temper of the Captain flaring to life instantly and he lunged at the boy, slapping him hard across the face and knocking him to the parapet floor. Joshi yelped, and tried to scramble away but the Captain hoisted him up by his collar, and held him up to eye level.

With his eyes bulging, teeth gritting, veins pulsing and sweat pouring his face appeared to be that of a berserker. He spoke with an unnerving clarity and calm considering the manic display of his disposition: “Speak no more of the Grandmaster. He is dead.”

He released the boy, who was caught by the guard this time.  The guard had been quite surprised by the Captain’s outburst and was now making it his goal to not see the boy killed. Joshi was bleeding from his nose, and tears ran down his face and he was utterly humbled.

“Now GO, and I do not want to see you again this night!” bellowed the Captain.
Both Joshi and the guard made haste to leave the wall.


Neither one noticed the Captain slowly glaring back at them as he licked the boy’s blood from his glove.



-----


With a damp cloth held to his face, Joshi returned to the tower where his master, Leviticus Kurtz and he had been engaged in studying the moon Morrslieb. He hated failing at a task, for he enjoyed pleasing and learning from Leviticus. He slowly opened the tower door and made his way to his worktable. He spotted a presence by the telescope but he was too fearful to make eye contact with his master. Also, he didn’t want to distract him with the tale of the abuse he had just taken from the Captain when it could just wait until morning.

“Ah, good you’ve returned lad…” Leviticus’ voice issued out from beyond the half canopy that protected the worktable from the threat of inclement weather.

“I need you to take some notes for me. I’ve made some discoveries that change everything.”

“Change everything?” Joshi said with surprise. His master was firmly attached to his theories about Morrslieb and rarely deviated far from his accepted conventions.

“Everything. Yes! Change…change…yes, prepare to write lad, fore this will revolutionize what we know about Morrslieb and even the nature of Chaos itself.” Said the excited voice.

Joshi was now beginning to really take interest in this, as the jubilation in his master’s voice was something rare to behold. Either that or he was partaking of too much wine. He glanced down at the provision basket they had brought up here, but he could quickly tell that the bottle of wine had not been touched and the flask of water was still right on top of the basket where Joshi had left it a few hours ago when his master wanted water for his eye. Dismissing that theory, he snatched up the quill, loaded the ink, and said: “Ready Sir.”

“You’re a good lad, now..” and his master proceeded to speak in a harsh and untranslatable language that quite truthfully Joshi had never head before. It rattled his ears and every syllable seemed to cause his heart to pound hard against his ribs and punch at this inner ear.

“Ah! Master! What are you saying?” exclaimed the boy in puzzlement and disgust.

Leviticus did not stop, and if anything his vocals only grew more rhythmic. Joshi stood up with his pen and his book and stepped around the canopy to where the telescope was now positioned, and gasped.

Dressed in his master’s robes and the burst tatters of his master’s clothes, was a huge beaked bird like thing with folded wings sitting upon the telescope stool. He was holding a mirror toward the telescope viewfinder and reflecting moon light on to the tower’s floor. The chanting was unstopped, and it was clearly his master’s voice some how coming from this beaked monstrosity. Joshi was terror stricken and seemed that his legs were rooted to the spot. He stared at the creature’s head, and it seemed as if the old wizard’s eyes were the exact eyes of this creature. It was gesturing toward the pattern of light on the floor, and Joshi could see movement in that pattern. He watched as a pair of long pink limbs reached up from the light, braced themselves and pulled up from it a large bulbous grinning creature not unlike how a ratcatcher leaves a manhole. The creature giggled at him and wobbled toward him. Joshi felt liquid running down his leg, and he knew he had pissed himself. Yet he was too terror stricken to do anything.

More creatures popped out of the hole until quickly they filled the area of the tower with pink giggling whirly and twirling things.

The bird monster stopped speaking, it looked up and addressed Joshi:
“Lad! Stop slouching! You look pathetic! You’re about to learn the secrets of the universe, you can at least show some respect!”

The Pink Horrors all laughed with that, and the ones closest to him reached out to Joshi and lifted him off the ground. All he could do was shake and stutter as they passed him around toward the light, now clearly a free-formed portal.

“Ah, you have your pen! Good. Do take notes, but try not to comprehend too much too soon; it could make you crazy. See you soon enough!” and the Lord of Change turned his attention back to the viewfinder of the telescope as the Pink Horrors passed Joshi down into the hole of light, and he slipped into the Realm of Chaos…

« Last Edit: January 18, 2009, 04:15:31 PM by neverness »

Offline Warlord

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #31 on: January 19, 2009, 12:46:46 AM »
I've got plenty more in me - its just Christmas took a bit of the energy out of my, and work was busy since I got back.

I have no idea what to do with the witch hunter, and I don't really know whats in the vault either - or do I?

I think there is plenty more story to be told... if you have the legs for it neverness...

But most definitely, anyone wishing to add to it really does help flow on the story, and the new elements added by new writers make it that much more interesting.
Quote from: Gneisenau
I hate people who don't paint their armies, hate them with all my guts. Beats me how they value other things over painting, like eating or brushing teeth.

Offline neverness

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #32 on: January 19, 2009, 04:20:36 AM »

I think there is plenty more story to be told... if you have the legs for it neverness...


I'm game! And I definitely have got more in me.

Carefully rereading this stuff, I've noticed a few elements that haven't been addressed yet or no one has yet to pounce on and run with:

The Captain. Nobody seems to want to take a crack at naming him! I think I read every chapter this bloke appears in , but I can only find him being referred to as 'the Captain' or 'the young Captain'. Did I miss something? Of course, I'm totally cool leaving it as is. It might be fun to have a nameless hero! (Although I don't know how much of hero he'll be in the end... :evil:)

Mayor Schatz, the ex-witch hunter, only came about because I wanted to do more with Arst and I thought the Mayor and the aristocracy ought to be involved more. I introduced them in that party scene (I really enjoyed that one) but we never really went back to them. Unless someone beats me to it, I think I have a few more chapters in me concerning that situation. Also remember that Miss Schatz and his daughter Francine are there as well, and that Krieger has an interest in her. And Frau Wechsler, the woman who brought Arst to the party. Was she just a pawn in Geilir's machinations?

The Knights. Or rather, the name of their order? Are these guys religious nuts, or just imperial enforcers? I've been viewing them as something in between. I've been toying with making them the Knights Jaguar as I couldn't find enough on them to veto using them. But nothing's official until it's in a chapter, so if someone wants to run with figuring out who these knights are, I'm more than happy to take their lead.

The Castle. It has no name, and neither does the villages and town that it protects. It's obviously not a major town, or we'd have mentioned it already. In my mind, I've been visualizing it as being near the Middlemounts, and nearish Salzenmund (I wanted to mention Salzenmund as a tip of the hat to the late Rufas the Eccentric, whose writings have been very inspirational; then and now. In fact I think I did in the chapter that I introduced Leviticus and Joshi.) Being in the northern part of the Empire, it's just that much closer to the influence of Chaos wastes and was probably in or near the path of Archaon's last invasion.

These three things are not vital or even really important to the overall story, but I thought pointing them out might spark someone's imagination and desire to contribute.


Go on, you know you want too... :evil:



Offline Warlord

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #33 on: January 19, 2009, 05:26:24 AM »
I like the outline you just did. A synopsis on whats going on - kind of like an intermission in the show, or an ad break on TV, where you talk and reflect about whats happened.

The Boys in the Booth. We aren't allowed to kill them off. But thats not to say they can't get hurt. Dieter has already lost a hand. Deiter is young and reckless, Hanz older and more worldly. The booth is protected, only so long as those wizards keep chanting, and right now they are out cold.

Crazy Mob. Does Yuri's vision of the castle burning come true? Does Yuri apologise to Dieter for stepping on his crotch?

Grandmaster Krieger He is unconscious (possibly dying), hanging precariously from branches / roots out the side of the cliff, drenched in Great Unclean One mucus. Joshi and Leviticus are no longer able to help him, will he make it back to save the day once again? Will a stiff wind blow him down the crevasse, fulfilling Arst's promise?

A new character? There is plenty of space for you to write in your own character - what have they been doing while all this has been going on?
« Last Edit: January 19, 2009, 06:19:37 AM by Warlord »
Quote from: Gneisenau
I hate people who don't paint their armies, hate them with all my guts. Beats me how they value other things over painting, like eating or brushing teeth.

Offline Buddha90

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #34 on: January 19, 2009, 11:00:24 PM »
I'll play along. Please excuse any mistakes in my English, hope it is good enough :)

Chapter 19

Krieger was hanging on, with the last of his life force, he was hanging on. He could not see anyway out of this, he was going to fall, soon. A young voice interrupted his dim thoughts. Even though the voice was young, it had an ancient wisdom, it was warm and kind.

“Take my hand, Grandmaster”

Krieger could now se a hand reaching out. It had a warm glow, even though the night was dark and cold, this hand looked like being lit by the sun. Krieger did not fully trust the voice. Who would be foolish enough to venture outside the castle? But he could not think of any other way out of his current situation. He took the hand and was with a secure and strong force pulled up.

A young man stood in front of him. He was dressed in farmer’s clothes, but looked more like a barbarian. He was the tallest man ever to be seen by Krieger. His eyes were calm and wise. Had one only seen his eyes, one would have thought him to be an old, wise man. The young man picked up the Grandmaster’s sword and handed it to him.

“I believe this belongs to you?”

Krieger took the sword out of his hands. It seemed lighter than before. So did his armour. The sword felt warm and calm, just like the young man in front of him. But wait, the young man was gone. Krieger went over to the two guards. The younger guard who had earlier distracted the demon was asleep on the floor, the older guard stared wonderingly at his Lord.

“ My.. my Lord? You are alive?” – The guard asked

“Did you see the young man helping me to my feet ?” – Krieger did not see a need to answer such a simple question.

“What man?” – The guard was clearly confused

Krieger stared back at the former battlefield. There was no sign of anyone. His eyes rested on the castle instead. Something was dreadfully wrong in there. He needed to get back inside.
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Offline Warlord

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #35 on: January 20, 2009, 12:03:17 AM »
Great stuff Buddha! Really good. No evidence English isn't your first language(I'm assuming by what you said) - a great piece of writing!

CHAPTER 20

“Begone from this sacred place!" commanded Jauchman to the Darkness, as he pressed his staff onto the floor. Concentration on his face, a dazzling brightness began to shine from the stone at the top of the staff, and shadow began to emit a hissing noise.

As seconds went on, the brightness increased, and the beasts hissing noise became louder, until the demon could not take it anymore. It took form, and lunged at Jauchman, black claws reaching for his throat and arms. Sidestepping out the way, the staff fell to the ground, and the light faded. The beast could not be seen, concealed under Jauchman’s cloak that it had torn off and hidden under near the doorway.

The Light Mage picked himself up from the ground, and quickly retrieved his staff.  As he approached the heap, he heard chanting. Looking around for a physical manifestation of the enemy’s spell, he saw a new shadow in the centre of the room. A tiny hole of darkness appeared right where the candles were. The hole began to grow, and the candles fell into the Abyss.

Acting quickly, Jauchman cast an enchantment on himself. His limbs began to glow with a purifying light, and with fantastic speed, he picked up the chanting demon. It continued chanting defiantly, as it sneered at the mage, the Pit of Shades coming ever closer to where the wizard stood, and where his acolytes lay scattered around the room.

The power of Pha completely filled his limbs, Jauchman, began to pummel the demon in the face and torso. Bones crunched and black blood splattered over the tower walls, the demons chanting ceased as it wheezed for breath. The pit began to close, and the demon knew it was finished.

“Owww” muttered one of the acolytes as he returned to consciousness. Jauchman turned his head slightly, relieved to see at least one his apprentices still alive. This was all the distraction the demon needed, as it forced itself from Jauchman’s grasp, sending Jauchman reeling back towards the centre of the room.

His arms still alight, Jauchman turned to the fleeing demon and cast one last spell at the foul beast, just as it crossed the threshold to the stairway. The light from his arms condensed into his hands, and then from the wizard’s fingertips, a burning flare hit the demon. All light from his hands left in a bright, burning beem that pushed the demon over the edge of the stairway and tumbling down the open space at the centre of the tower. Its body alight on the way down from the cleansing flare, a charred corpse hit the floor far below with an echoing thud.

Jauchman could now set about restoring his acolytes to their work.

-----

Both hearing the ruckus above, and seeing the bright lights and dark shadows overhead, Ernst knew it best that he stay hidden. I miss you he thought, longing to be close to his new master once again.

Suddenly, only inches from where he crouched, a blackened and charred demon fell. Its angular ugly face screwed up in a final expression of agony and pain. In its claws was the once white cloak of the Light Wizard, now also burnt and damaged.

Sensing the opportunity his master no doubt wanted him to take advantage of, he crawled towards the scorched corpses’ outstretched arm. Ernst reached for the wizards cloak, feeling the now rough material in his hand.

The corpse let out a guttural groan, air, escaping the dead creature for the last time. Startled, Ernst dropped the robe on the floor and jumped back towards the relative safety of under the stairway. As the cloak fell to ground, the shining key it stored fell also, with a cling.

Eyes wide, realising his prize was in sight, Ernst snatched the key up and bound as quietly as he could for the door. Stealing one last glance at the doorway at the top of the tower, he exited. His master would be pleased.
« Last Edit: January 20, 2009, 12:19:22 AM by Warlord »
Quote from: Gneisenau
I hate people who don't paint their armies, hate them with all my guts. Beats me how they value other things over painting, like eating or brushing teeth.

Offline neverness

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #36 on: January 20, 2009, 01:17:01 AM »
Good job guys. Thanks for joining us Buddha90, that was great stuff!

CHAPTER 21

The tower door slammed open, the Captain pushed through the threshold with a frantic and frenzied resolve. He was a sweaty mess, with wild crazy eyes.
 
“Where are you boy!?!” he bellowed out his question. He held a battle-axe in his hand that he had pulled off of a wall display and the bloody head of the guard that had been posted to this tower’s level in the other.
 
After Joshi had left him on the wall, the Captain subconsciously licked the droplets of blood off of his gloved hand. It tasted rich and it filled him with vitality and strength unlike any he had felt before. And he wanted-nay, needed- more! Abandoning his post, he searched franticly for the boy, and eventually found the guard he had ordered to escort the lad to tell him where he was brought. He made his way up the tower with minimal bother. A lot of the occupants were attempting to sleep through this cursed night, but when he made it to the roof level the guard dared to question his presence there and refused his passage. When he returned a few minutes latter with a battle-axe the bastard was taught a lesson in military hierarchal respect; not that the fool would be left in a state to exercise this new found knowledge.

The Captain now stepped out onto the chilly roof.

“Boy! Come here!” he ordered as he stepped away from the door and walked over to the table under the canopy. He could tell the lad had been here, and like a bloodhound he found a bloodied and damp cloth wadded up on the table. He snatched it up and began sucking the liquid from it. The tangy iron taste was almost intoxicating; he need more!

For about ten minutes he stood there sucking every drop out of that cloth, until he felt a tug on pant leg. He slowly turned, and even in the pale green light of Morrsleib he could the creature seeking his attention was pink. He snapped back, and brought up the axe.

“Back away spawn! Give me the boy!” yelled the Captain.

The giggling and laughing began, from the other side of the canopy, and he could tell that it came from a small legion of voices.

“What is this?” yelled the Captain as he angrily knocked over the canopy with his axe and kicked the pink horror away…

He was surprised to have revealed to him a Lord of Change, a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch, sitting at a telescope, now watching him, amongst a sea of pink daemons that filled the entire space of the roof of this tower.

“Aye, this is a private study, bugger off!” pronounced the Greater Daemon.
 
“Bugger off! Bugger off! Bugger off!” chanted the jubilant lesser daemons.

“NO! You bugger off you filthy swine, and give me the boy!!!” screamed the Captain holding the battle-axe threateningly.

“He’s claimed. There’s plenty of other pickings in this place, go find your own!” retorted the Lord of Change.

“No! I want HIS blood!!!” bellowed the Captain, clearly working up a horrible rage. He started to bleed from his own nose, and the blood ran into his mouth, and this taste only excited him more.

“Well, I’ve already got his mind, you can’t have the rest!!!” taunted the Lord of Change.

“Blood!!! Blood!!!” Was all the now berserk Captain could say as he went into frenzy and dove forward swinging his axe like a rabid orc. The Pink Horror’s surged forth to protect their Greater Daemon master, Every killing blow that landed on a Pink Horror, created two Blue horrors to take it’s place. Soon the biting, clawing and stomping creatures overwhelmed the Captain and he was consumed by a cavalcade of blue and pink daemons.

“That’s that then…” muttered the Tzeetchian Greater Daemon as he turned back to his telescope.

“B L O O D ! ! !” screamed the Captain’s booming voice as a horned, red skinned, giant bat winged cloven-hoofed monstrosity broke out from the pile of horrors. The horrors flew in all directions; some even fell from the tower landing on the surprised troops lining the wall below. Some exploded on impact dematerializing back to their hellish void, while others simply turned into two smaller blue versions of themselves and began creating havoc with the mortals below. On the roof, they tried to press back onto the thing that was once the Captain but was now a Greater Daemon. It easily brushed them aside and strode over to the Lord of Change, who was now stepping away from it’s telescope.

“Easy now, there is plenty of offerings for ye here..” said the Lord of Change in a soothing attempt to redirect his daemonic peer.

“BLOOD! FOR THE BLOOD GOD! BLOOD FOR KHORNE!!!!” And the Bloodthirster charged as the alarm bells were again ringing below.


« Last Edit: February 17, 2009, 02:12:36 AM by neverness »

Offline Buddha90

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #37 on: January 20, 2009, 10:59:54 PM »
Great job guys, and thank you for the kind words!  :::cheers:::

I've managed to write some more, a bit longer than last time, but keeping the Grandmaster's angle. Hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER 22

Krieger could tell that it was a cold night. He could see it but yet he could not feel it. He closed his eyes. He was standing in a meadow. His shadow was short, nearly gone. He could hear birds singing and children playing. A drop of sweat ran from underneath his helmet down his cheek, it went into his mouth and he could taste the salt. The trail left by the drop of sweat quickly dried out. The sun made his armour shine and nearly blind him. He took off the armour. He went down to the nearby village. No one seemed to notice him, but one. He was in the centre of the village, next to the well. It was the young man who helped Krieger earlier. He was not wearing the same clothes, but had the same warm glow, Krieger, for the first time in ages, felt safe.

“Come closer, I must show you something”

Krieger did as he was told.

“Look into the well”

The well was old. Krieger could tell by the poor masonry. In the well he could see nothing but himself. Then the water began to coil. A silky smooth coil transformed the mirror into a window. Krieger could see his castle. It was day, and the castle was not destroyed. It was still inhabited by men of the empire. But something was not right. The image changed. Krieger was now watching an older version of himself. He was telling stories of the night he saved the castle. Krieger did not like what he saw. This version of him, it was not who Krieger wanted to be. But deep inside, he could feel that it was what he was becoming. There were slaves all over the castle. No colours. No joy. The old Krieger was laughing, not because he was happy, because he was mocking a former opponent.

“Chaos does not always attack our walls” – The young man said.

The image in the well disappeared.

“Neither does it always attack our minds” – The young man continued.

“Sometimes we invite it. Sometimes we are the chaos”

Krieger’s eyes were travelling down to the sand. He did not dare look at the man. He closed them, he was ashamed. When he opened them again he was back in front of his castle. He now realised that chaos was to be defeated in several ways tonight. He walked back to the guards. They were both sleeping. Krieger coughed. The older guard nearly fell off the chair. They aimed their handguns before realising who was standing in front of them.

“Oh.. My apologies m’lord. I did see…”

“No harm done soldier. At ease”

The guards lowered their weapons. They seemed lost. They had no idea what to do, and why. All three of them could he the alarm sounding inside the castle.

“I need to get back in” – Krieger said in an asking way

The guards did not react naturally to this question. Krieger had hoped they would know a way, or at least they would confirm in that there were no way in. But they did neither. Their mouths were open. Their eyes were staring intensely at something behind Krieger. He turned around fearing the worst. His eyes were met by a sight he had not seen for a long time. A winged horse, a Pegasus, was standing on the road to the castle. Krieger walked towards the creature. He could feel the Pegasus’ heartbeat. It was calm, nearly the same rhythm as his heart. He touched the creature. He could feel the same sun as the one in the village of his dreams. He jumped on the back of the Pegasus, he did not need to tell it were to fly, it knew.

“Did you just see that?” – Hanz asked his younger friend.

“Sure did. But I do not believe my eyes yet”

Dieter closed the booth door and sat down.

“I think I will need a bit of vacation after this shift is over”

“So do I, so do I”

Krieger landed in the centre of the courtyard. He looked around. His men were fighting without a leader, but when they saw their Grandmaster, their hope was renewed. Krieger shouted at the nearest swordsman.

“Where is the Captain?”

“I believe I saw him walking towards the tower of that dark wizard”

Krieger flew to the tower. He got of his ride and opened the door. Inside a demon dressed partly in the Captain’s clothes were eating the remains of the apprentice. Krieger had noticed this apprentice earlier, while he was still alive. There was something magical about him, now this demon was eating his earthly remains. Krieger did not want to think of the reason why the demon had his Captain’s clothes on; or rather he did not want to accept his theory. He drew his sword.

“You will die while my blade is still playing the sound of being drawn” – Krieger said in a very determined voice.

The demon got on his feet and laughed as hard as he could. Outside in the courtyard the men were fighting valiantly, but their attention was partly directed to the tower. They had heard things from in there, and now their reincarnated Grandmaster had walked in. Something rather round and bloody flew out of the tower’s window. Out came the Grandmaster. His blade had not been drawn for more than mere seconds. The soldiers gained courage and strength as they saw their Grandmaster beheading a demon of Khorne.
Hold your head up high
Raise your fist up in the air
Play metal louder than hell
Louder than hell!

Offline neverness

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #38 on: January 25, 2009, 04:35:30 PM »
...and from a different perspective:

CHAPTER 23

The few flagellants that were left were just starting a new chant, as they turned to march along the edge of the crevasse. Dieter was feverish, mumbling a prayer to himself as he caressed his wounded arm. Hans worried if the young man would survive the night. The thought of whether he himself would survive the night truly never entered his mind. The yard between the edge of the woods and the Crevasse was a sheet of green light, indeed as everything now was under the high Morrslieb. Hans stuck his head out of the booth and noted that the sickly green moon was now just past it’s highest and closest point and was about to begin it’s descent toward the horizon, which would soon be followed by the sun’s blessing. The chanting and ruckus of the flagellants was somehow oddly soothing to Hans, and he relaxed on one of the booth’s stools.

Not even aware he had dozed off, he woke with a start and snapped immediately to action! Raising his handgun (and he could tell that Dieter was doing the same) he almost pulled the trigger on the Grandmaster himself, standing just outside of the booth!

“Oh! …My apologies m’lord. I did see…” Hans stumbled to say.

“No harm done soldier. At ease” said the Grandmaster.

He was mess. Bloodied and battered, the noble knight looked pale and cold. He appeared almost undead in demeanor, and his limbs and body seemed defiant of gravity’s pull as if controlled by some unseen force, like a puppet, yet his voice seemed to be as stern and commanding as always. He had a crazed look in his eyes, as if he was seeing past or even through these two bewildered guards who were now lowering their weapon despite Hanz’s instincts that were railing to do otherwise.

“I need to get back in…” stated the Grandmaster. Hanz was unsure if this was a question or an order, the look of shock on Dieter’s face did nothing to dispel that confusion.

Suddenly there was a bright illumination followed by a near deafening crack of thunder. The two guards could see that one of the castle’s towers had been struck by lightning and that illuminated in coursing energy on top of it was an immense winged being fighting another. Both guards turned back to the Grandmaster still wearing masks of shock and astonishment. Running toward them along the crevasse edge the flagellants were returning, screaming all sorts of decrees and edicts demanding to be let in the castle so they could battle chaos directly. Grandmaster Krieger turned as if to look at them. Suddenly, he bounded up into the air, and floated in mid air as it sitting upon an invisible mount. The flagellants stopped dead in their tracks as they beheld this new miracle of the hovering Grandmaster. Without saying another word, the Grandmaster launched himself up and over the wall into the castle.

“Did you see that?” Hanz asked Dieter.

“Sure did. But I do not believe my eyes yet”

As Dieter closed the booth’s door, Hanz heard crying. One of the flagellants had pulled his eyes out in disbelief while the others beat themselves or each other.

“Apparently lad you’re not the only one!”

“I think I will need a bit of vacation after this shift is over” stammered Dieter upon seeing the crazed maniacs.

“So do I, so do I” stated Hanz.

He turned away from the flagellants and looked back toward the tower. The two beings were still struggling and energy was crackling everywhere. Stray bolts of energy lashed the air. He could hear fighting; lots of it. And shooting. What foes confronted their comrades now, they could not tell. The two guards could do nothing but watch, and try to make sense of the scene before them. Adding to this sight was the cacophony being created by the flagellants outside their both as their zealous rants created the soundtrack to the madness. The two men contemplated silently what it was they witnessed the Grandmaster do. Or what he was.

    The energy on top of the tower dissipated brilliantly, and the upper levels collapsed in upon themselves Ash and dust rose in a cloud and the tower sank into it with a mighty rumble. Screams issued out, and the fighting continued. Hanz could tell through the dusty haze that the tower had not collapsed fully, but that the devastation was awesome never the less.

   “Sigmar save us…” whimpered Dieter as Hanz stared ahead wondering if he was going to survive this night…
 


« Last Edit: January 27, 2009, 05:22:38 PM by neverness »

Offline neverness

  • Posts: 544
Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #39 on: February 01, 2009, 05:12:48 AM »
CHAPTER 24

“What was that?” one guard said to the other. They both had fear in their eyes, as sounds emanating from outside grew louder.

“I’m not sure…” the other one, the sergeant, replied cautiously. They were both wide eyed, uncertain, and definitely nervous.  These noises were not helping their situation much. Assigned to guard the door to a prisoner, Arst, the crazed chaos cultist who managed to get invited to Grandmaster Krieger’s party and promptly disrupted it, and his two interrogators, Mayor Schatz, ex-witch hunter, and a field surgeon to the Knights Jaguar.

Another rumble from outside, this one deafeningly loud, and it shook the whole castle. Masonry cracked and crumbled, and chunks fell from the ceiling. One of the lanterns shook off the ceiling and crashed to the floor, extinguishing that light. The younger guard, already traumatized by the sounds of the Arst’s torture, let out a yelp as he slipped and knocked his knee against the wall.

“Sergeant!” the stern yet smooth voice of the Mayor addressed from Arst’s cell, “Unlock the door please.”

He, still rattled from the rumbling from outside, did so, and without fumbling, The Mayor strode out. He was just as he appeared when he entered and clean of any blood or nastiness one might associate with conducting torture. The field surgeon on the other hand was covered in blood, and was trying to clean himself and his tools with a bucket of water and some rags. Arst was quite dead, and the Sergeant, not a stranger to war, gagged at the sight of the miserable wretch. War had nothing on what these men had done.

“Sergeant, you and your man need to come with me. You have nothing here left to guard. It is imperative that we get back to the Grandmaster’s chambers.”

“Yes sir!” and the two guards snapped to it and escorted the Mayor up to the ground level of the keep. There was commotion everywhere. Guards, Knights, and citizens of the local townships, all were gathered in here. Indeed, the entire keep was filled with more civilians than soldiery, and they were in a panic. Something terrible was occurring outside. Women wailed, and children cowered and cried. Someone was barking orders that seemed to be ignored. As they made their way to the next hall, they passed a priest of Shallya sermonizing to a group of people, telling them to make peace with their souls. The Sergeant thought it a bizarre sight to see a group of calm, nearly placid people surrounded by the desperation and panic of all the other occupants of this castle. The priest was nearly knocked over by a team of castle guards running through with braces to shore up the doors.

Mayor Schatz strode through the room as if these sights did not exist. So steadfast and determined was he that the two guards had a difficult time keeping up. They made it to the other side, the Chambers of the Knights Jaguar and took the private stairs of the Grandmaster. Normally the guardian knights of the castle would protect this area, however at this time they were clearly occupied elsewhere. They stopped by the armory, and loaded up on a few choice items. They then took the stairwell upward and reached the guest quarters where the aristocracy stays during visits.

As they passed a small window, both guards paused briefly to glance outside, and quickly stepped back to pace with the Mayor.

“Sergeant! Did you see the Grandmaster fly up to the tower?”

“Yes, beautiful Pegasus, I wonder where he was keeping it…”

“What Pegasus? Sir, he was moving through the air on his own! It was incredible!”

“Silence, both of you! I need you two to stay focused and alert!” ordered the Mayor.

They proceeded further on this level until they reached the sitting room where the Grandmaster entertains his guests. There were two knights guarding this room, and the door was shut.

“Sirs, I need you to let us in, and if anyone attempts to leave this room without my permission, you are to kill them. Understood?”

“Yes sir; what’s...?” the inquiring was promptly interrupted by the Mayor;

“Chaos. Pure chaos.”

The door opened.

Chaos was indeed what they saw, and what they saw was impossible to imagine. Sitting at the head of a table was a light purple/pinkish skinned being with leathery wings. On his lap sat two women, Frau Wechsler and the Mayor’s wife Helfa. Both women looked youthful despite their years and intoxicated with pleasures. They stroked the daemon prince playfully with slow lustful caresses. Scattered around the room were the dismembered torsos of the all the other dozen or so of the richest landowners and merchants from the area. These beings, limbless, yet living, were each fornicating with the clawed daemonettes, minions of this daemon prince of Slaanesh. Some appeared to be enjoying their situation, some hating it. Regardless, they were now thoroughly addicted to whatever situation they were in, and the chorus of emotional outbursts filled the air. From a chandelier behind the daemon prince hung the unconscious Francine, the pure and unharmed daughter of Mayor Schatz.

The two guards where terrified, the knights, alert and ready to slaughter the vision out of existence. The Mayor, despite seeing his family in such a predicament, was cool.

“Geilir I presume.” Stated the Mayor flatly.

“Yes my dear Mayor, it would seem your old talents are alive and well. But did you have to kill poor Arst? He really was a good minion…”

“This is over daemon. I know what you are here for, and you have lost.”

“Oh?” inquired the daemon teasingly, “And how does your small and closed mind reach that conclusion?” Geilir laughed.

“Arst is dead, and…”

Geilir’s laughter grew louder, and when the two women sitting on his lap joined in and laughed as well, the Mayor’s words stopped. He looked at his wife. Never had she looked so beautiful or so wicked. He snapped back, in anger, and continued his speech.

“Arst is dead, the vault is still sealed. The prize you seek is denied to you.”

Geilir stopped laughing enough to say: “Ah, but your honor, Arst was just the advanced scout. He wasn’t even my favorite minion. Talented, yes, but no, I have another, and even now his mission is almost accomplished. I will win this game. Slaanesh will win this game, while my kin beat each other within this playpen you call a castle. Impressed, indeed, I am with your Grandmaster who defeated Nurgle, but the jokes on him. When you are all dead, I promise, he’ll be back to claim our leftovers. And the noise you hear outside? Those are my other brothers, Khorne and Tzeentch, tearing down your castle. So, Mayor, I’m not seeing how you plan on defeating me against my terms.”

“Terms?” asked the Mayor stalling for time.

“Yes. Obviously, I have something you want and hold dear,” Geilir nodded his head toward Francine, dangling behind him. “And you have access to the vault. Or so you hope I think.”

The Daemon Prince noted the look on Mayor Schatz’s face, “Worry not Mayor, your daughter was left unscathed. Wouldn’t be much of a bartering piece if I had my way with her too…”

“And my wife?” added the Mayor.

“No.” said Geilir almost angrily,  “She is not up for barter. She is mine now. I’ve restored her youth, given her answers to desires once locked away and denied; She could never return to you now.”

Misses Schatz giggled and licked Geilir’s chest, and Geilir smiled smugly back at the Mayor.

The Mayor produced a brace of pistols, and aimed them at the Daemon Prince.

“Than lets not allow this farce to continue,” he said as he pulled the triggers.



« Last Edit: February 17, 2009, 02:22:13 AM by neverness »

Offline Buddha90

  • Posts: 105
Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #40 on: February 01, 2009, 03:16:40 PM »
Update 25

Krieger felt invincible. Below him his men were fighting off chaos. So small were the men, so small and puny. He heard gunshots below him, in his own sitting room. He landed on the roof. Oddly enough, the Pegasus was light enough not to go through the roof. He punched a hole as if it was thin glass and jumped down in to room.

The mayor was standing in one end with a smoking brace of pistols. At the other end a young man was sitting, with wounds from the pistols. Krieger recognized the young man; it was the one who saved him from the abyss. The Mayor's wife and another woman, who was unrecognizable from her wounds, were lying next to the young man. Krieger turned towards the Mayor.

“What in the name of Sigmar have you done?!”

The Mayor's eyes questioned Krieger's words

"Apparently you are not one to use the holy name of Sigmar"

Krieger could feel the anger rising inside him. He could see the blood pumping in the Mayor. He could feel his heartbeat, every beat making him hungrier. No man was allowed to talk in such an accusing way to him, the Grandmaster. Krieger smiled.

"Choose your next words carefully, Mayor Schatz, they may be your last"

It was as if Krieger had several voices. The young man got up and placed himself next to Krieger. He said with his warm and calm voice:

"You see? Chaos comes in many forms. The mayor has been corrupted. Look around you; he has murdered all of your friends."

---

The soldiers standing next to Schatz were trembling. Schatz was calm and reloaded his pistols. He pointed them once again towards the demon of Slaanesh, this time Krieger stood in the way. Schatz felt no pity for Krieger as he fired his pistols once again. The soldiers screamed as they saw the bullets drill into their Grandmaster. Schatz dropped the pistols and picked up the hammer he had brought from the armoury.

Krieger laughed at the wounds, he enjoyed the pain. He drew his sword and charged the Mayor.
Hold your head up high
Raise your fist up in the air
Play metal louder than hell
Louder than hell!

Offline Warlord

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #41 on: February 03, 2009, 01:08:53 AM »
This is shaping up very nicely :-)

CHAPTER 26

The sound of battle could be heard outside the window. Huge winged beasts were dueling on the battlements Jauchman only minutes earlier occupied. Half the fortifications on a multitude of towers had been destroyed. Somehow, the tower of light had thus far evaded damage.

"It's too late." said Jauchman aloud in despair. Hanging his head, he turned from the window. His Acolytes were roused, however were still slightly hazed, and had not began chanting again yet. There was still a dark taint to the room, and even if they were to continue chanting, their is no guarantee it would hold the same power as it did earlier in the night.

"Master, look!" exclaimed Toji, the youngest of the three, as he pointed out the window. Following his line of sight, Jauchman spied a man flying through the air towards the embattled winged beasts. The other Acolytes too crowded around the window. Eyes wide, Jauchman finally realised who was responsible for this sorcery, realised who was responsible for the shadow demon. Drandorf.

Turning from the window, and looking over each of his acolytes, he knew he now had no other choice. "Toji, Mikel, Grayiel, prepare yourselves for battle. My brother shall cause havok no longer. To the Vault!"

The acolytes scurried quickly around the room, equipping their curved blades and battle robes. Reaching for his staff Jauchman now noticed that he no longer was wearing his cloak.
"We must go NOW!" he yelled, realising that time had already aligned itself against them.

-----

His cell was finally dark. The bars no longer carried their enchanting light - a light which burned the shadow mage constantly. His brother, the paragon of light certainly was cruel. The demon that visited him in his dreams promised him his freedom. He only need be his servant for one night, this night, and then he could have his revenge.

He wasted no time. Once the light was gone, he set to work.

When Ernst opened the door, the first thing he noticed was the darkness. There were bars, for what looked like a cell in the centre of the room. However there did not appear to be anyone held within. Taking steps forwards, a miniature model of the castle and its occupants could be seen on the floor, composed entirely from what looked like dust. Hands moved silently and elegantly above, pulling figures into place, one figure in particular riding a shadowy steed from one parapet to the next.

Moving closer still, Ernst could make out the figure of a man. The man whose hands they belong. His grey beard covered half his naked chest, and Ernst knew this was the man his master wanted freed. Reaching through the bars, he held out the key he had stolen. An invisible hand took them from him.

Backing away, his back hit the cold stone wall. Turning, he crossed the threshold and left the room, closing the door behind him. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, to be replaced by a quick gasp. A shiver running up his spine as he felt his master in trouble.

-----

Both of them were still staring at the castle in awe and fear when it happened. A flagellant noticed first, and screamed before being beheaded, his mouth forever open in a look of agony, fear and insanity. Quickly turning, Hanz was struck with fear. He felt a lump in his throat he could not swallow. Dieter saw them too, and peed himself for the second time tonight.

The rest of the flagellants turned, and Yuri yelled "The end is Nigh!!!!"

Arrayed along the road, just metres from the booth were at least thirty red coloured demons. Most were a bit larger than a man, their horned heards shining in the moons light. Some others roughly resembled dogs, but were almost as big as horses. Their eyes were focused on the castle, their attention was on the Avatar of their God, that is until Yuri's shout.

An unholy sound escaped their mouths as they prepared their swords. The first wave of flagellants ran towards them, butchered mercilessly by the jagged swords the Bloodletters carried. Blood spurted from the dead flagellants as the Bloodletters tore at their corpses, trying to release the red liquid they craved.

One of the larger beasts bound for the booth. Hanz raised his handgun, but not before the hound had already leapt through the window. Diving to the floor, Dieter narrowly missed the gnarling teeth of the fierce beast. Hanz pulled the trigger, the hound's head exploding in a black bloody muck over the wall and Dieter.

"We're dead" lamented Dieter to Hanz, looking up from his positon on the floor as he realised that the booth would no longer protect them. Nodding, Hanz agreed as he slid his body down under the windowsill to hide from the demons. He only hoped they could not smell their fear.
Quote from: Gneisenau
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Offline neverness

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #42 on: February 03, 2009, 06:17:22 AM »
Chapter 27

“Fool!” Mayor Schatz yelled as he parried the blade of Grandmaster Krieger with his pistols locked into an ‘X’ pattern, “You’ve been tricked by a Daemon Prince!”

Krieger yelled and shoved the Mayor onto his arse. The two guards and the two knights were attacking the daemonettes with surprising success. The younger prison guard turned to watch the Mayor roll to the avoid a blow from the Grandmaster that would’ve split a log in two, and that distraction was enough to have a daemonette eviscerate him.

“No lad!” Screamed the other guard as he brought his halberd to bear on the fiendish creature standing over the younger guard. He took her head off with a mighty blow, and kicked the thrashing clawed body in the chest, sending it sprawling across the table.

The Mayor rolled again, throwing a pistol at Krieger, hitting him in the right eye. The Grandmaster stepped back; stunned. Sweeping with his feet, he tripped the Grandmaster, knocking him into two chairs at the table. As he stood up, he tossed aside his other pistol, reached into his coat, and pulled out another brace of pistols. He kicked the sword of the Grandmaster away. “Odd, “ thought the Mayor, “I thought he tossed that down when he charged me…?”

All this time the daemon prince Geilir cheered, laughed and clapped. He was being thoroughly entertained. Schatz knew that this minion of Slaanesh cared not about who won this fight, just that it was getting pleasure from it. Two of the Daemonettes were about to jump the Knights, who were locked in a fight with four more of the daemons. The Mayor blasted them with his pistols, and they were no more. The knights pressed on their attack, taking down another daemonette. Geilir continued to laugh.

There was a sharp pain. The Mayor turned back to find the Grandmaster’s sword sticking into his thigh. The Grandmaster, somehow, impossibly in fact, had retrieved that blade again and from the floor had stabbed him! Mayor Schatz felt all his strength fade, and he stumbled back and fell to the ground.

“Father!!!” A woman screamed hysterically.

Geilir stopped laughing as hard, and tilted his head back curiously.

Grandmaster Krieger whipped around. When he saw who was screaming he was snapped back hard into this reality.

“Francine…?” Krieger stumbled to say. He was awed. The woman he had been courting, was suspended behind and above the Daemon Prince…Daemon Prince?! How’d he not notice her when he entered the room? And what was this…

The Pegasus he rode in on, disappeared in a wisp of smoke and shadow. The blade in his hand, crumbled into immateriality. In awe, he looked around the room as the lies he had been duped into believing were whitewashed with the cold harsh brush of reality. A Daemon Prince was sitting in his chair, not a young man. The local aristocracy were scattered about the room, butchered and dying. Frau Wechsler and Mayor Schatz’s wife were grievously wounded if not dead. Two of his knights were holding their own against a few daemons of Slaanesh, and two of the castle guard were struggling with their wounds. One of whom was clearly about to die as he struggled to hold his guts in.

“Welcome home Krieger, now save my daughter…” issued the voice of Mayor Schatz from the floor below. Krieger turned and looked down, and saw that the Mayor was wounded in the leg. “Don’t let these things win…” a wonderfully timed statement as the Guard Sergeant lost his head to a daemonette's claw.

Krieger had tears in his eyes, as he turned to look again at Francine. The Daemon Prince was still laughing, and seemed to not realize that Krieger had slipped his leash…Krieger saw his chance. He pulled his pistol from his belt along with a vial of holy water. He anointed a bullet, and loaded it into the gun, and turned quickly, aiming true.

“Geilir, didn’t I kill you once before?” yelled the Grandmaster from across the room.

The Daemon Prince ceased laughing abruptly and actually looked startled to see his puppet acting this way. With a load boom and a flash the bullet struck home, right in what was the Daemon Prince’s cranium. The fiend fell back, flipping the chair over and shattering it with his weight. The last of the daemonettes cried and turned to jump Kriegar. But in that moment that they were distracted, they were cut down by the Knights Jaguar.

“ARGH!!!” Bellowed the Daemon Prince as it rose up from the floor, unfolding his wings dramatically, “Grandmaster! You’re not as weak as we'd thought!” The men in the room looked on in astonishment. Krieger’s holy bullet had blown the top of Geilir’s head off, exposing where one would assume his brain was.

“…or are you?” Geilir said raising an eyebrow, tilting his head toward the woman, Francine.

“No daemon,” Mayor Schatz spoke as he struggled to stand, “You’re party of madness is over!” He threw a vial of holy water. The Knights charged, as did Krieger.

“Master! I have it!!!” The door was flung open behind them, and the Daemon Prince Geilir, burning from the acidic touch of the blessed water splashing onto him, could see Ernst standing in the doorway, holding Geilir’s long lost blade as the three knights charged him.




« Last Edit: February 13, 2009, 12:37:40 AM by neverness »

Offline Warlord

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Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #43 on: February 06, 2009, 04:56:01 AM »
CHAPTER 28

Drandorf could feel the absense. The demon whom he served was in danger. Its basic instincts for survival meant it released its foggy hold on his mind.

Taking a deep breath, the grey wizard knew that this was his opportunity for escape. In his pocket he found the key that the young soldier delivered him moments earlier. Reaching through the bars of his cell, he unlocked the door. Stepping through the threshold for the first time in years, Drandorf savoured the moment.

Another deep breath, and he listened to the shadows. Interconnected through the castle, the shadows told him all he needed to know. Demons still fought on the roof, men fought each other, and the Greater Demon, whose name Drandorf now knew, was confronted by leaders of men. More threateningly though, the shadows told him that a bright light was coming to him, and would be with him very soon.

"Brother" Drandorf said aloud, knowing that the bright spark of his family would soon arrive to reprimand him. Wasting no time, he opened the door out to the corridor, and to his escape. To left lie stairs ascending to the world above, to the right lie stairs leading down below, down to the vault. Without hesitation, Drandorf descended the stairs.

One guard, somehow oblivious to the happenings above was sleeping at his post. Metres away was the door to the vault. Creeping past, as only a master theif or master of shadows can do, Drandorf quietly put the key in the lock, and turned.

Expecting bright light, Drandorf squinted as he pushed the door slowly ajar. Darkness.

The wooden door creaked as he pushed it all the way open. His grey eyes focused in the darkness quickly, and he spotted what he came for. Longing to feel its touch in his hand, he released his grip on the door handle, and dashed over to a table to pick up his staff. The door began to close, its hinges creaking to find a position it was familiar with.

"Yes, Sir" recited the guard, roused by the creaking door.

Quickly retrieving his cloak, Drandorf headed for the just ajar door.

"Oh my, oh no, oh no, oh damn, oh DAMN!!" the guard lamented on the other side of the oak, no doubt in his mind that he was soon going to be in grave trouble with his commanding officer.

Concerntrating his effort, and with a wave of his staff, the grey wizard summoned the shadows around him into the shape of a black stallion. A silent but terrifying beauty stood in front of the wizard awaiting his command. Doning his cloak, staff in hand, he mounted his steed of shadows. With his free hand, he waved at the door, forcing it open.

The soldier standing just outside screamed as the black stallion reared its legs. The stallion charged, and the soldier dove out the way, narrowly avoiding being trampled to death by the darkness. As the horse galloped up the flight of stairs, the soldier could hear the maniacal laughter of its rider as he rode his way to freedom.
« Last Edit: February 06, 2009, 04:59:01 AM by Warlord »
Quote from: Gneisenau
I hate people who don't paint their armies, hate them with all my guts. Beats me how they value other things over painting, like eating or brushing teeth.

Offline neverness

  • Posts: 544
Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #44 on: February 13, 2009, 02:03:30 AM »
CHAPTER 29

It was too quiet. The sounds of the bloodletting, to which the hellish creatures outside the booth deservingly earned their name, had abated. Dieter had passed out in his corner. He wasn’t sure if it was from blood loss, fear or what, but Hanz was glad Dieter wasn’t able to make any noise or some other stupid mistake. So Hanz had continued to squat in his corner of the booth. He legs were beginning to ache, and his knees hurt. The pressure of the position weighing on his bladder and he really wanted to piss. Dieter’s involuntary urinations left an aroma that wasn’t helping his situation either.

He noticed that the daemonic corpse in the booth had faded away, and it’s blood had wisped away in a steam. Hanz wondered if this was a result of it’s daemonic nature or the power remaining in the booth. Either way, the effect was too slow to put any more faith in the protective properties of the booth. For the first time all night, he began to run contingency plans through his head in case he had to abandon his post. The crevasse, though climbable, was too unsafe and treacherous. The woods was too noisy with all the brush, dead leaves and twigs; anything would be able to hear him for hundreds of yards in every direction. Also the green light of Morrslieb would make hiding a challenge as well.

The fighting in the castle seemed to be winding down, and Hanz had mixed feelings about that as the noise masked the sounds he thought he and Dieter were making, like breathing and heartbeats.

All the noises from the castle immediately ceased, and there was a brilliant white light! Dieter slowly peeked over the edge to see what was going on. He saw, on the crumbled remains of one of the towers, some sort of portal had opened up, and it was the source of this new light. Hanz watched as a small figure floated out of it and hovered over to the roof of the keep, leaving the slowly closing portal behind it.

“Fascinating…” thought Hanz, but he spotted something moving out of the corner of this eye. He focused his eyes. There, in the pale green moon-light, were the bloodletters, scaling the castle walls!

“All this time, in the silence, those buggers must’ve climbed all the way down the crevasse, crossed the stream, and climbed back up the other side!” thought Hanz. His mind raced, and then he got an idea. He looked around more thoroughly to see if there were any other Bloodletters on this side of the crevasse but he spotted none. Hanz stepped out of the booth, and circled it. Still he saw none. He paused, relieved himself quickly, and dashed back into the booth. He snatched up Dieter’s gun, and gave him a kick, and said in a hushed tone:

“Get up lad, I need you!”

“Wha--?” moaned Deiter,

“Shush! Get up, I need you to be a loader!”

“What? The daemons will...”

“Die,” interrupted Hanz again, “Die, as we blow those bastards back off of our wall!” and pointed toward the castle.

Dieter pulled himself up to look, and immediately saw what Hanz was going on about, smiled, slumped back down to the ammo box and started to take out his loading rods, and black powder.

“Ready,” whispered Dieter.
Hanz watched. He wanted to make sure the bloodletters were about a quarter way up the wall before he started to shoot. Surely they wouldn’t be able to jump back across, or they simply would’ve done so to begin with. They were such well-lit targets in the moonlight, with their crimson bodies contrasting sharply with the light granite rock of the castle.

His plan was this: he’d start shooting, catching the bastards by surprise. He was sure that his shooting could take them out, as he was one of the best shoots stationed at this castle, but they were quick, and would probably quicken their pace up the wall. He wanted the noise from his shooting to attract attention from the ramparts, hoping those men would notice and be alerted to the attack about to happen and join in the shooting as well.

Hanz fired the first shot. It hit the highest bloodletter on the wall in the back of the neck, as it fell, it took two others with it, and the three bodies fell down the crevasse. He passed the gun back to Dieter, who immediately began the reload, and grabbed the other gun, raised, aimed, shot another through the head, passed the gun back to Dieter, who in turn passed the now reloaded rifle back to Hanz. This procedure continued at this rhythm. The bloodletters, were being picked off the walls, as the two guards systematically began destroying the daemonic unit. The bloodletters were climbing back down the wall, hissing curses at the booth. Hanz really had underestimated how many of these things there were. But Dieter assured him that they had more than enough ammo.

And they continued.

After some time, Dieter realized no one on the wall was helping him out. Either the guards were occupied with whatever was going on inside, or worse. The bloodletters didn’t do what Hanz thought they ought to do. He had assumed they would try to scale the wall faster, but instead they started to work their way back down the crevasse. 

“They’re coming back for us…” stated Hanz.

“Oh shite!” exclaimed Dieter.

“No problem lad, there aren’t many left besides, they’ll be just as easy to shoot down there as where they are now.” Hanz said turning to Dieter. He saw the look of doubt on Deiter’s face, and added: “Well, for me anyway!” He turned and shot another one off the wall.




« Last Edit: February 13, 2009, 03:57:31 AM by neverness »

Offline Buddha90

  • Posts: 105
Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #45 on: February 14, 2009, 05:41:57 PM »
Chapter 30

Hanz kept putting the daemons to the ground. They were coming up from the crevasse now. Hanz kept shooting the one nearest them, but there were more than he could shoot, he realized that now. It was no help either that Dieter's reloading got slower and slower, he was so scared that he dropped the handguns from time to time. Hanz shot a daemon only a few feet from the Guardhouse. He could not shoot the next, it was to close, Dieter was to slow. He could smell the foul breath of it now. Was this the end, were the two guards to be massacred by a handfull of bloodletters. Hanz closed his eyes as the bloodletter was about to attack.

The sound of gunpowder made him open his eyes again, just in time to see the bloodletter being torn apart by a swarm of bullets. He could hear hoofs passing the guardhouse. He stood up to see what was going on. Another brace of pistols was fired. Hanz scouted into the green night. Outside a band of young men were gunning down the last of the bloodletters. They approached the guardhouse and one jumped down from his horse. Hanz reconized the colors of his clothes. He belonged to the private army of a nearby self-proclaimed nobleman, Jaffir Rosenkrantz. The young man standing infront of Hanz was this nobleman's son.

"What's the situation, guard?"

Hanz was pleased to hear a human voice that wasn't screaming "the end is nigh".

"We... We actually have no clue" Hanz paused to seek verbal backup from Dieter, only to find him passed out, again.

"We have not seen nor heard any sign of survivors inside the castle.. Only strange sounds and lights"

The young man reloaded his pistols while nodding.

"I see.. So we might have to storm the castle?"

Hanz realized that this could be the only solution

"That depends.. No offence, but you are a mere group of pistoliers. Not that I doubt your abilities but..."

The young man began to laugh, laugh hard. He was a bit darker than the common man of the empire. His teeth and eyes seemed whiter. He was the youngest son of the Rosenkrantz family. His father decended from arab merchants and his mother was a farmer girl. That was the reason why they werent invited to Krieger's party ealier this evening, they weren't really noblemen, only rich merchants. He finished laughing.

"You have to be the smartest soldier I have ever met. My father is marching with his army to aid you. I was scouting up ahead and saw you, and your.. ahem.. troublesome situation. The rest of the force will be here soon."

Hanz knew that Jaffir Rosenkrantz had a passion for guns, the bigger the better. His son had unmistakeably inherited this passion, he could count 8 pistols. Dieter woke up, gazed upon the young Rosenkrantz. He got to his feet. The sudden sound of marching troops stopped him from saying anything.
Hold your head up high
Raise your fist up in the air
Play metal louder than hell
Louder than hell!

Offline neverness

  • Posts: 544
Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #46 on: February 16, 2009, 04:11:16 AM »
CHAPTER 31

Upon arriving to this realm, Joshi found himself split into nine separate beings, each personifying a particular aspect of his personality. One particular aspect was riddled with fear and terror, and it tried to run back through the portal. The other eight selves watched with mixed emotions and interest as a Bloodthirster of Khorne snatched the cowering aspect of Joshi, and dragged it back to the mortal realm. The eight selves, concluding that trying to leave through that means would end in death, reformed back into a singular being; a being now totally devoid of fear or terror, but filled with curiosity and intellect.

He had traversed the eternity of chaos. Stood upon the bastion stair and looked down upon infinite wonder. Seen armies of monstrosities tear itself apart in endless war on an infinite battlefield. But it was within Tzeentch’s crystal labyrinth that he would attain true transcendence. He must’ve spent an eternity absorbing knowledge unknown to mortal men, arcane secrets and answers to mysteries his master would’ve sold his soul for.

Oh wait, he did.

It was here in Tzeentch’s realm some incalculable time later that Joshi would reunite with his accursed master, Leviticus, damned to forever stare upon the face of Morrslieb. Never again to blink his stinging eyes or turn his head, Leviticus was rooted to the spot at this corner of Tzeentch’s realm, eyes permanently pressed against the viewing glass of his telescope while one hand constantly adjusted the telescope’s dial his other hand worked automatically to scribe within a never filling tome his observations and insights.

Joshi could hardly recall the night that had forever changed his destiny. It was so long ago now, since that greater daemon had superceded Leviticus’ place within the mortal realm had sent him here. The night. Joshi was truly indebt to that servant of Tzeencth, and wondered if he’d ever get that chance to thank him.

“Boy! Ah, where have you been! I think I’m about to crack the secrets of Morrslieb! The things I’m seeing in this beautiful damned vision would make me a legend in the Celestial Order, but the manuscript is far from done!  No, I’m still gathering notes, what a magnificent night this is-“

“Master Leviticus,” the boy interrupted the babbling wizard, “it’s good to see you again. I have learned much since I came here, and intend to learn more.”

“Good lad, good. Morrslieb will make us both legends in the order! Being my apprentice will make you legend among your peers! You’ll see!” rambled the old wizard.

“Yes…” replied the boy, almost sadly, but he recomposed himself and continued, “do you recall a crystal, a glowing crystal about the size of a walnut. I recall seeing it at the castle of the Knights Jaguar, but I do not recall who had possessed it.”

“Ah, um…” and for a few minutes of thought, and for first time in ages, the old wizard thought about something other than Morrslieb. His automatic writing stopped, and painfully, his neck muscles worked for the first time in ages to turn away from the telescope to look upon the boy. His bloodshot eyes, the tears stained face of this tortured soul saw a color palette other than green, and the wretched soul looked upon his apprentice with scorn and annoyance: “Can’t you see what I’m doing? Why do you care about some trinket of Jauchman’s when Morrslieb is full tonight?! Now, if you’re not going to assist me, leave!” And with that, the miserable old man, returned to his telescope, and continued his writing.

But Joshi now had the info he needed. Yes, Jauchman, of course:  he met the Wizard of the Light Order along with his Acolytes of Light, only briefly on that day before night fall, when the wizard came by the south tower to have tea with Leviticus. Joshi had spotted the crystal on a necklace that hung outside of his robes and was impressed with it’s luminescence. He wondered how it was capable of producing light on it’s own without an apparent energy source, but when he asked his master later about it, Leviticus would hear nothing about such talk. Indeed, away from the Light College wizards, Leviticus had nothing but spiteful criticisms and put-downs to offer regarding them.

But now, Joshi knew what that crystal really was, and the power that it contained. Surely the foolish wizard of light knew nothing of the artifact dangling around his neck or how to tap the knowledge it contained? It mattered not, fore even if he had to kill the wizard himself, he would have that item. He caressed the Mark of Tzeentch upon his forehead, and smiled as the plan came to fruition…


----

Stepping out of the portal into the very night he had left it, Joshi found himself floating high above the ground. The south tower was now a ruin. The Greater Daemons were slain, and the blue and pink minions of Tzeentch were now few. The light of his passage had disrupted the fighting below, and the lesser daemons immediately surrendered to his presence and rallied to his command. They stormed the doors to the keep, while Joshi floated over to it. The treasure he sought was within the keep now. Odd, he thought it would be in the North tower, where the Light Order had sequestered itself.

Below, as the small horde of remaining daemons sought entry into the keep, the men on the wall and in the courtyard counter attacked the daemons, and fighting began anew. Joshi look beyond the walls and saw another daemonic horde, this one belong to Khorne, making it’s way through the crevasse and setting up it’s attack upon the castle. He had to be quick. Even though Khorne probably cared little or nothing about the object Joshi sought, he couldn’t risk loosing it. With a thought, he ordered his pink and blue minions below to finish playing with the humans and destroy them. Screams filled the night as coruscating flames blasted from the horrors and immolated the human warriors in the courtyard.

Turning his attention back to the keep, he looked down through a shattered ceiling window in the Grandmaster’s chambers, and saw an interesting situation. Before he was sent to the Realm of Chaos, Joshi recalled seeing the Grandmaster, whom he recalled was dangling for life in the crevasse out side the castle, but here he was fighting with the Mayor of the local town while other men fought with daemons of Slaanesh. A Daemon Prince of Slaanesh oversaw the fight. There were mangled people everywhere. He watched as the grandmaster knocked the warhammer from the Mayor’s grasp, and Mayor, rolled back and produced a brace of pistols. He observed this fight for a while, and it really got interesting when the Grandmaster suddenly switched allegiances and charged the Daemon Prince with his Knights Jaguar and the Mayor. They seemed to have the upper hand on the Daemon Prince, which fascinated Joshi to no end, when another guard burst into the room with a daemon weapon of considerable power, and hurled it through the air toward the Daemon Prince. The Mayor, turned and shot this guard, and the guard slouched to the ground holding it’s wounded arm.

This is it, thought Joshi. He could feel the power source heading to this battle scene. This would be the place. He would not have to hunt for the item he sought; it would come here. All he had to do was continue to wait and watch.










« Last Edit: February 16, 2009, 04:23:41 AM by neverness »

Offline neverness

  • Posts: 544
Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #47 on: February 17, 2009, 04:10:06 AM »
The Tale of Two Guards ‘Who’s Who’
Or
Keeping up with the corpses.

As I wrote my last entry, it occurred to me that I needed a basic score card to keep up with who's who and whether they were still alive or not. It also occurred to me, that any one wanting to participate in writing with us, might need a handy primer. Also, if you're a casual reader or reading this as it's serialized, you might also need a refresher on who's what. This is a more expanded version from the one done back in December. I will probably post another update if we get the chapter count up to 45.

(was I the only one to forget about poor Griff?)

Enjoy!


Example Template
Name:
First Appearance
Status.
Brief description:

Acolytes of Light
First Appearance: Chapter 5 /Reply #7, Acolytes named Chapter 26 /Reply #41.
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: Toji, Mikel, and Grayiel, Acolytes of the College of Light, under the guidance of Jauchman, whose ritual powers the protective property of the guard booth.

Arst
First Appearance: Chapter 7 / Reply #10
Status. DEAD
Brief description: Spy; Herald of Geilir. Tortured to death by Mayor Schatz.

“the Captain”
First Appearance: Chapter 12 / Reply #19
Status. DEAD (most likely)
Brief description: Captain of the watch, damned by Khorne. Replaced/ possessed by Bloodthirster.

Dieter
First Appearance: Chapter 1 /Reply #1
Status. ALIVE, but wounded.
Brief description: Younger of the two guards assigned to the guard post outside the castle. Prone to panic and involuntary bowel/urine release when frightened.

Drandorf
First Appearance: Chapter 26 /Reply #41, by name Chapter 28 / Reply 43
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: Wizard of the Grey Order, imprisoned in the castle by his brother. Now freed.

Ernst
First Appearance: Chapter 2/Reply #2
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: Guard under the acquiescence of Geilir. 

Francine Schatz
First Appearance: Chapter 7 / Reply #10
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: Daughter of Mayor and Helfa Schatz, love interest of Grandmaster Krieger, prisoner of Geilir.

Frau Wechsler
First Appearance: Chapter 7 / Reply #10
Status. Unknown; wounded.
Brief description: Local bank owner, member of the Aristocracy influential due to wealth. Beguiled by Geilir.

Geilir
First Appearance: Voice of: Chapter2/Reply #2, By Name: Chapter 7 / Reply #10, in person: Chapter 13 / Reply 21.
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: Norse chaos champion ascended to Daemon Prince of Slaanesh. Apparent manipulator of the events and attacks on the castle.

Grandmaster Krieger
First Appearance: Chapter 7 / Reply #10
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: The Grandmaster of the Knights Jaguar, Lord of the Castle.

Griff Hausbergen
First Appearance: Chapter 3 / Reply #3
Status. Unknown
Brief description: Sgt. in charge of tower defense.

Helfa Schatz
First Appearance: Chapter 7 / Reply #10
Status: ALIVE, wounded.
Brief description: Wife of Mayor Schatz, Mother of Francine, now damned concubine of Geilir.

Hanz
First Appearance: Chapter 1 /Reply #1
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: One of two guards assigned to the checkpoint outside of the castle. Older of the two, and more experienced.

Jauchman
First Appearance: Chapter 5 / Reply #7
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: Leader of Acolytes of Light, tasked to maintaining protective wards on the guard booth outside the castle. Has lots of secrets!

Joshi
First Appearance: Chapter 11 / Reply #18
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: Apprentice to Leviticus Kurtz ascended to.Daemon Prince to Tzeentch.

Leviticus Kurtz
First Appearance: Chapter 11 / Reply #18
Status. DEAD
Brief description: Wizard in the Celestial Order obsessed with the moon Morrslieb. Now forever damned to look upon it. Was the master of Joshi. Replaced in the mortal realm by a Lord of Change.

Mayor Schatz
First Appearance: Chapter 7 / Reply #10
Status. ALIVE
Brief description: Mayor of local town on authority of the Elector Count, retired witch hunter. Father of Francine, and married to Helfa.

Mossman
First Appearance: Chapter 6 / Reply #9
Status. DEAD
Brief description: Castle Guard; Keeper of the Gate. Important role in the damnation of Ernst.

Yuri
First Appearance; Chapter 5 / Reply #7
Status. DEAD (apparently?)
Brief description: Leader of a pack of flagellants, assumed slain by bloodletters.

Jaffir Rosenkrantz and son have just appeared, so I’ve not yet created an entry for them yet until we see a bit more about them.


« Last Edit: February 17, 2009, 04:12:40 AM by neverness »

Offline Buddha90

  • Posts: 105
Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #48 on: February 17, 2009, 03:55:08 PM »
That sure is a lot of characters. Great to them listed. You were not the only one to forget about Griff, actually I had forgotten quite a few other characters  :icon_redface:

I cannot understand why so few are writing on this, it's great :P
Hold your head up high
Raise your fist up in the air
Play metal louder than hell
Louder than hell!

Offline Warlord

  • Global Moderator
  • Posts: 10112
  • Sydney, Australia
Re: THE TALE OF TWO GUARDS (A writing excercise)
« Reply #49 on: February 19, 2009, 04:25:01 AM »
CHAPTER 32
Gregor was disgusted with himself. The man he had seen the Mayor torture deserved it. He was a lunatic, a deranged follower of chaos, and withheld information critical to the safety of the castle and its occupants. But as a Field Surgeon, Gregor found his actions alien to his modus operundi. After the Mayor had left, Gregor stayed at the cell, trying to come to grips with what had happened.

"The ends justified the means" thought Gregor, hoping that the evil he had witnessed was to be their salvation. Moments passed, minutes or hours, Gregor was not sure. What he did know, was that he now he must destroy Arst's remains in Sigmar's cleansing fire, thus cleansing this mans foul and evil blood from his hands.

Assembling as many pieces of Arst as he could find, Gregor dragged him up the stairs, to the battlements above. On his way up he passed a troupe of men on their way down. Preoccupied with their defense duties, not a one noticed the corpse Gregor was pulling.

Finally reaching the battlements, Gregor dumped the body in a bloody mess. A few pieces of wood littered the parapet, as was common for performing ad hoc repairs or repelling sieges. Hastily crafting a pyre, the field surgeon then put Arst on top to ensure he received the full fury of Sigmar's flame.

With a piece if flint, Gregor started the fire. Small at first, but quickly roaring, the flames began to engulf the body of Arst. Almost like thats what he was waiting for, Arst's body began writhing. His head straightened up, and his remaining arm began to try and pull his intestines back into himself. The Field Surgeon could not believe his eyes. He had seen a lot on the battlefield in his years, but a man coming back to life after what he had been though simply does not happen.

Then it dawned on him. Drawing his sword, Gregor said a quick prayer to Morr before beheading the pathetic and undead Arst.

-----

Leaving his keep far behind, Jaffir knew tonight was a night of opportunity. A merchant made rich from his personal contacts in Araby, one would think that wealth could buy him respect. Instead his neighbours ostracised him, his obscure looks, dress sense and strange habits brought out the bigotry in men. This night Jaffir would ensure he would get noticed, one way or another.

Jaffir rode at the forefront of his battalion of followers, while his cannon were dragged by levy. Looking back, Jaffir spotted his court magician accompanying them. His black cloak and hood unmistakable in the moonlight. Casting an enchantment or curse; no way really to tell which, the magician's cursed mind was always scheming something devious.

Raising his hand, his entire command halted. The castle he was so often denied access to stood in the distance. Spotting his son and his companions in the distance, he could see there had been a melee already. Corpses of man and demon littered the ground around what looked to be a booth. And thats when it hit him. He could smell it. The scent was so strong and seductive, so beautiful and so tasty. A hunger stirred from within. No doubt that is what attracted his son to the castle too.

The smell of blood.
« Last Edit: February 19, 2009, 04:29:53 AM by Warlord »
Quote from: Gneisenau
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