Here's another one. I felt like writing one and Winston gave me a good idea so I took it and ran.
Their boots squished in the mud of the Black Marsh. It was raining, and three young men were on their way to an open grove. One walked ahead of the other two. He wore a cloak with two miniature crossbows haltered at his sides. When they passed out into the open they viewed a group of about twenty hairy brutes. They stopped and gazed into the field. Sarcon and Winston look at each other and Sofawall turns around. “Alright, there’s our target.” Said Sofa to the other two. “You two enjoy yourselves. I’ll stand back and pick some of them off.” “What say we keep a tally? Each worth two?” Laughed Sarcon as he slowly pulls his sword out of its sheath. “Whatever you need to boost your ego up again. You’ll need it after that thrashing I heard Winston gave you yesterday.” Replied Sofa Sarcon mumbles something under his breath and continues to walk forward with his sword at his side. Winston laughs and follows him until they both pick up speed into a dash, charging at the group. Sarcon sprints to the side running around to the backside of the group only to see a massive Urdar next to a bonfire. “Holy shi- Winston! This guys worth ten! Let’s save him for last.” He says dashing back to the other side. He meets with Winston in the front only to have a bolt pass right between them. “That’s one!” Yells Sofa from behind them. “Yeah be careful that one almost got my eye!” Shout Winston playfully. Winston gathers a flame around his blade and charges in with Sarcon at his side. Winston swings his blade down through the shin of a brute and up into the chest of another. “Two!” He yells to Sarcon. Sarcon speeds forward jumping onto the falling body of the brute that just lost his leg. In the air he grabs the short sword at his side and throws it into the neck of a brute below him. As he descends he turns his sword blade down. He lands on the shoulders of a brute and jabs his sword into its forehead. When the drops to the ground he picks up his short sword and puts it back where it belongs. Three brutes surround him. He pulls his sword and jams it into the gut of one of them while the other two fall to the ground with bolts in their sides while Sofa shouts from a distance “Three!” Sarcon laughs and replies “Same here. Come on, Winston, keep up!” Winston moves to the middle of the group and spins his sword around him as a flame grows on it. A circle of fire forms around him as he bolts over slicing his sword through the center of one brute. He then dashes to the side and slashes his blade through the midsection of another. “Four!” Sarcon hops back out of the group and counts up the total. Ten brutes have been slain and few remained. Sofa fires another bolt into the throat of another brute. Sarcon, now behind, sheaths his long sword and grabs his two short swords. He charges in and hops up kicking one brute in the chest. He springs off of it and plants his feet on the shoulder of another. He squats down and looks at it in the face. “These things are prettier when they’re dead..” He puts his short swords at an x and slices them into the brute’s neck and hops off. He returns to the one he kicked and grabs an arrow out of the quiver on his back. He throws the arrow, hitting the brute in the chest between the ribcage. “Five! That’s twelve, only four left!” He drops his short swords, seeing a brute in front of him and grabs his other sword. He swings it up, slicing it through the brutes left shoulder. He then spins around and jabs the edge into the side of the brute. When he falls Sarcon shouts at the other two cockily “Six!” Sofawall chuckles and loads two bolts into one of his crossbows. He fires them out across the field as they impale two brutes. One brute falls but another is held up by Winston’s blade which is lodged into its back. “That one counts as mine, Sofa! I had him first!” Laughs Winston hearing a quiet reply of Sofa yelling bullshit. Sofa quickly loads another bolt and shoots down the final brute. “That’s six for me and Sarcon and only five for you, Winston. Looks like the big guy decides the winner.” Says Sofa. All three of them charge forward at the Urdar who is looking down at them from a distance. Sarcon and Sofa stop and load their bows. Sofa looks at Sarcon. “I didn’t know you could use one of those.” He says questioningly. “Hah! I never miss.” Replies Sarcon as he fires an arrow while looking at Sofa. The arrow flies past the Urdar’s head about a foot away from its shoulder. “That was a fluke! No fair!” Sofa laughs as he fires a bolt, hitting the Urdar in the chest. It grunts and continues. Suddenly everything is quiet. The Urdar lets out one deep moan and falls to the ground. Winston stands on his back leaning against his sword casually. He laughs looking at the other two and says “I think we’re done here.”
Not as good as my others, but I had an idea so I ran with it.
In the warmth and comrederie of Jay's Tavern, two figures meet.
The only sign of their passing was the door swinging shut.
Two figures meet on the training field, both armed with blades. One, a bastard sword, scratched and notched from many battles, the other, a pair of short blades still blue from the forge.
They met in a flash of steel, the twin blades twirling, the long sword slashing, both jumping and doging around, but it was obvious from the beginning who was the superior fighter.
"Got you" taunted one figure, with his sword at the other's neck.
"Fine, fine, just let me back up" grumbled the other.
The swords flashed, and again it was clear who was the better swordsman.
"Stop lunging like that, you leave your leg open for a trip, like this!"
"You didn't have to trip me"
"Sure I did, how else will you learn?"
"Fine, another round"
Jump, twist, slash, parry, sword comimg in low, jump it, grab tree branch, swing back, roll away, get up, charge, block sword-
"Well what did you expect, trying to block my blade with those tiny things."
"Well, Winston, it wasn't supposed to go like that..."
"Sofa, the sword is one thing I know I can beat you at. Although you are already better than some in the legion, you still have a long ways to go."
And here's another one. I got carried away with my character so Winston isn't a big part but it should be a good read. It's a bit lengthy though.
“Well, there he is. My newest SLAYER! How are things Winston?”*Gulp* “Um.. Good, I suppose.” “That’s not the answer. Come on! Celebrate!” *Swig* “Hah, Master Carlos, maybe you should sit down.” “Nonsense! I can handle myself. So boys, I’ve said it before, what say you try to take on your commander? I’ll even let Sofawall tag along. It’ll be good sword training for him!”*Sip* “This won’t end well…”
The drunken figure of Carloseus stumbles a couple steps. He rises up and shifts his clothing and armor into a more comfortable position. He steadies himself and fixes his posture, closing his eyes. He opens them again and looks at Winston then to Sarcon, and back to Winston. “See.. Alcohol is no problem” He sobers himself up and walks out the door.
“Is he joking?” Remarks Sarcon from the corner of the room. “He can’t possibly-“ “Well, we might as well get going. If he comes back it will only be worse.” Sofawall adds as he rises to his feet. “Don’t worry, Winston.” “I’m not worried.” “Then shut up and grab your sword. It’s gunna be a long night.” Laughs Sarcon.
The three begin to walk out to the training ground but can’t find Carlos anywhere. They begin exploring and soon enough hear laughing from the forest that is unmistakably that of Carlos’. They begin walking into the forest, staying close out of paranoia.
“Guard up.” “Thanks…” “Don’t be a smartass” “I wasn’t” “Just be quiet.” “Why? He knows where we are.” “Yeah but if you don’t shut up we won’t know where HE is..”
A rustle in the trees, a shift in the bushes.
All three dive out of the way simultaneously as a blade flies between them, lodging itself into a tree.
“Damn! You trying to kill us?” “Oh please, if I didn’t know you were capable of dodging that, I wouldn’t have done it.” Shouts Carlos from an unknown area. “Where’d his sword go?”
Carlos had already retrieved it without being detected. He was quickly moving, silently, through the trees. Finally, he lands in a clearing and looks across at them “One at a time at first.”
Sarcon steps forward, being the weakest and lowest in rank. “I’ll do what I can.” He gathers his strength and thoughts. He unsheathes his long sword and gathers a feint orange aura around himself. He holds his sword down at his right side and carefully watches his commanders every move. Carloseus stands calmly with his arms folded and eyes closed. Sarcon finally takes one step forward. Carlos charges forward with unfathomable speed swinging his sword at Sarcon with no regard for safety. Sarcon deflects his attacks with his own blade and counters with a kick into Carlos’ chest to push him back a few feet. What’s he doing. Sarcon thinks, watching him carefully. Maybe he wants me to go on the offensive. He screams and charges forward unleashing a fury of swings with his sword. Carlos deflects them and finally spins his blade around to launch Sarcon’s sword back into the dirt in front of Sofa and Winston. “Next..”
Sofa takes his stand. Being weak with a sword, he knows he can’t stand up to Carlos that way. “Don’t be afraid to use your crossbows, Sofa, I can take it.” Sofa sighs and grabs his dual bows. He loads them both carefully and quickly disappears into the trees. Carlos stands firmly, not even paying attention to Sofa. A convoy of bolts come flying at him but a barrier stops them dead. Sofa stops in a tree and takes a knee, debating his next move. He takes one of his crossbows up and takes aim at Carlos. He watches him for a moment and fires a thick bolt. The bolt travels with extreme power through the air until it reaches the barrier. It breaks through the magical force-field and Carlos grins. The bolt travels through and pierces Carlos’ shoulder blade through the other side. Carlos flinches and leans with his right arm dangling. With the grin still on his face, he reaches his left hand up and twists the bolt out of his shoulder. “Next..”
Winston stands petrified of what he just saw. He grits his teeth and walks forward. He walks to stand directly in front of Carlos. Winston looks at him in a curious way. Carlos, still grinning, disappears into the forest again. “I’m ready for all of you!” The three ready themselves and look around. A crackling sound surrounds them. Winston looks around confused and sees a massive tree tumbling down right at his position. He dives out of the way as more trees begin to fall. The three of them move quickly, hopping into the trees. They look down to the ground in order to find any sign of Carlos’ position. They all take up their swords and hop around from falling tree to falling tree. Finally an entire field had been cleared with Carlos standing in the middle.
“Ergh.. Whose idea was this?” “His.. and he’s loving it.”
The three walk forward and stand around him. Carlos grins and separates his swords. The three around him take up their swords and begin swinging at him. Carlos twirls around blocking each of their attacks. After a few moments of repetition he sends up a shockwave which fires the boys about twenty feet away. “Sarcon, you again. I’ve seen what the other two can do, and I could sense you were holding back.”
Sarcon rises to his feet and picks up his blade. He charges in again swinging his blade. The two dual out in a fantastic display of swordsmanship for a good couple moments until finally Carlos turns and kicks Sarcon out of the way to the ground. “One more.” Sarcon stands again and charges in. He swings but is deflected every time. Carlos extends a hand and unleashes a force which propels Sarcon back to the ground. “Another! You’re a SLAYER right?!” Sarcon stands up slowly and looks down at the ground. He gathers his orange aura again. His body trembles and he clenches his fist. A gust of wind surrounds him. He turns his head up and opens his eyes. He looks at Carlos with glowing green eyes. His hair extends in the air and gains a golden tint. He holds out his right hand and calls his blade up from the ground. When he grasps its handle the blade gains an orange color. He takes his fighting stance and charges in again, swinging his blade with grace and precision. Carlos looks at him happily surprised, still deflecting his every swing until finally, Sarcon gets a swing near his head. Carlos dodges and they both stand still and watch five black hairs fall to the ground. Sarcon gazes in amazement. Carlos grins and they continue their dual. After a few minutes, they both stand still, Sarcon facing away with Carlos blade at his neck. Sofa and Winston stand there in fear of what they see. Their eyes look watch Sarcon carefully who is near seconds away from death, until they turn there attention down to see Sarcon’s sword which they see piercing Carlos’ hip.
Carlos chuckles. “Good. Don’t expect that next time.”
“That was good boys. Zubin! Beer!” “Thank you, sir.” “Sofawall! May I have a word with you?” “Of course.” “Thasador has requested that you be transferred to my legion along side of Winston. It is your decision but I do think it would be a shame to separate you two.” “Uh.. I- Erk.. I’m sorry, Carloseus, I don’t think I’m ready to make that decision.” “So be it. Whenever you can, get back to me. I was very impressed with your abilities today.” “Um.. Thank you.”