I'm done two, did them in English class. My teacher asked what I was doing and I said creative writing, then she asked to read what I wrote! It was an awkward moment, then someone asked a question. Saved by the idiot!
The dart flew towards the unprotected figure's back, unseen in the dead of night
Ping! Fwip!
The sword moved like lightning as Winston blocked one, deflecting the other with his cloak. "Where is he?" thought Winston intently, slowly turning.
Zwik! Ping!
Another blocked, but where did it come from? Behind again, but wasn't he just facing that way? How is he moving so fa- Wait, what was that? Winston listened intently.
Ziwk! Ping! Fwump!
Wait, what, a net? "No fair, Sofa" cried Winston, "we agreed, normal darts only!"
"Fine" replied Sofawall, directly behind him yet again.
"You know, your piwafwi is kinda annoying"
"Hey, you said magic was allowed."
"I guess I did" said Winston, with a grin on his face. Without warning, his hand shot out and started drenching Sofawall in Slushie.
"Ak, bur, augh!" spluttered Sofawall, fighting to regain the initiative
Swish!
"Well, shall we call it a draw then?" said Sofawall, Winston's sword at his neck.
"Yes, let's" replied Winston, dart jabbing his chest above his lung.
"Bravo!" said Thasador from the door of Jay's Tavern "I see why I promoted you two. You work well together, you seem to almost read each other's mind! It seems as if you already know what is going to happen just as the other thinks it themselves!"
"Thas, you lucky bugger! You know I had my eye on them!" said a voice from behind them.
"Hey, they chose me, Carlos!" as Carloseus strolled over.
"You two re definatly getting better, and sometimes you seem closer than me and Thas here!"
"Another round?" asked Sofawall of Winston.
"How about a round of Darkjay's finest?" retorted Winston.
"Best idea I've heard today!" laughed Carloseus as he opened the door to the warmth and comrederie of Darkjay's Tavern.
It wasn't night, in fact, it wasn't even dark, but it was time to go to work.
"Ready?" asked Sofawall
"Ready," replied Winston "but you know, assassins do tend to do this type of thing at night."
"We could use the challenge, they're only Carvers"
"I guess... Yeah, let's do it."
The two figures ran into the distance, fast as the wind.
Before long, they came to an encampment, well positioned atop a hill, Carvers swarming about. There was, however, a hitch.
"Corrupt Rogues?"asked Sofawall
"Hey, who's holding back now? We can take 'em" called back Wiston as he charged the hilltop.
"Fine, fine" as Sofawall emptied his clips at the encampment.
WHOOSH!
"Incendiary?" asked Winston, backpedaling furiously from the flames.
"A nice touch, I thought" replied Sofawall, smirking.
"Not really needed though" said Carloseus from behind him "I saw the smoke, I came to investigate" he said in response to their puzzled gazes.
"We've got these guys covered." said Sofawall
"I'll just watch then, it's not often I get to see you two in battle together, I've heard you're as good a team as Thasador and I, maybe even better."
A pair of Carvers rushed the small group, a Corrupted Rogue in tow. Sofawall casually shot the two Carvers and asked Winston, "You want it?"
"Sure, I'll those ones too" he replied as a dozen more crested the hill.
The one in front, confidently wielding a short spear, was still snarling when her head hit the ground.
"1 down" breathed Winston, as he ducked a slash and blocked a kick, tripping the attacker. Before he could take advantage on the opening, however, he was set upon by the others, all hacking and slashing. He was a blur of flashing steel, blocking, parrying, riposting, he knocked the blade of one into the arm of her fellow, then opened both their guts to the world.
"3 down"
He caught a sword in his hilt, twisting, and disarmed his opponant, leaving him open for a lunge to the throat, an opportunity not to give a Decurion of Assassins.
"4 down"
2 other fell to his blade in quick succession, as the other turned tail to flee.
"Oh no you don't!" cried Winston as he extended his arm, lauchng an avalanche of slush on his enemies. They fell to a man.
"Not bad," said Elfen Lied, as he casually aved his arm, incinerating the remains, "not bad at all."
"My turn next time" griped Sofawall, walking down the hill.
"Hey, you got all the Carvers!" exclaimed Winston
"Carvers? Pff, they're no fun!"
"Now, now, don't take it out on each other" intervened Carloseus "Well, actually, how do you two feel about a bit of training?"
"Always ready, my lord!" replied the decurions, in unison.
"Ok, then, ready, set, SPAR!"
The large figure kept to the shadows as he approached the battle grounds. Having just awoken, he was still sleepy. He did not want to disturb those that were training so hard. He could hear sounds that suggested sparring was already in progress. As he drew closer, he could see sparks fly, and birds flee the area. The figure did not have his gear on, nor his two Gladius at hand, but he felt safe none the less. He ducked just in time as a shard of ice whizzed past his head. He took note of the direction of battle, and stayed clear of it. He heard the familiar taunts of his great leader, Lord Baron Carloseus, and the war cries of his mentor, the Noble Samurai Thasador. The figure knew both warriors could sense his presence, but they did not react. He slipped past the cheering ASSASSINS Winston and Sofawall, and continued onwards to his paradise; Darkjays Tavern. He pushed open the heavy wooden door with ease and went inside.
The light inside the tavern was dim. There were few around. The familiar sights and smells delighted the figure, who was no longer shadowed, and revealed his true form. Tall and athletic, with short dark hair, he looked much older than he was, plagued by the scars of battle. Some barbarian heritages flowed through him, but were not prominent or obvious to the eye. He approached the bar and waited patiently. "Jarhead, im suprised your back here so soon after losing that bet!". Darkjay stood up from searching under the bar. "Well, i didnt want to be a stranger", replied Jarhead. He pointed to his favourite barrel of ale, to which Darkjay quickly responded and poured him a tall glass of the amber liquid. All of a sudden, the tavern door burst open and in marched Elfed Lied and his men of HELLSING. They were roudy and proud, having just slain countless demons in the valley just outside the citadel. Darkjay turned to Jarhead and muttered, "I best be serving this lot now, we shall speak later". Jarhead quickly finished his beer and bowed to Darkjay and Lord Elfen, and left.
Jarhead marched back the way he had came. As he neared the Training Grounds again, he noticed there were even more people present. Thasador was standing atop a large pillar, adressing his legion. Jarhead didnt want to interrupt such important training, so he decided to exit the citadel and take another route. As soon as he left the gates, fear set over him. He did not have his armor, or either of his Gladius, he was unsafe. He picked up pace, and rounded a corner. Infront of him was at least a dozen carver bodies. He examined one of the devilish corpses, and noticed the familiar bolts of Sofawalls crossbows protruding out of the skull. He laughed, and continued on his short journey. Just as he reached the end of the trail of bodies, he heard the snarl of a foe. He turned to see a stray carver advancing towards him. Without time to think, he tackled the demon, and out of instinct began wailing upon its head. When he realised what had happened, he stared down at the mess he had created. He slowly got to his feet, wiped his hands free of the impurities and continued, feeling slightly disturbed.
Jarhead arrived back at his quarters, and headed straight for his cupboard. After fitting his plated armor and fixing his two enchanted gladius to their hilts, relief set over him. With his gear on, he felt unstoppable, untouchable. He heard a knock at the door, and opened it hastily. He was late for training. A messenger stood before him. "Legionaire Jarhead, you have been summoned by Lord Baron Carloseus to appear at the SICK Castle. You must proceed there right away". Jarhead nodded and gave the messenger a small handful of gold for his troubles. The walk to the castle was rather short. As he approached the doors, he felt a rumble, and a giant of a man with an axe the size of a small child came out the doors. The hulking mass was no stranger to Jarhead. It was Ajax, the mysterious Barbarian of SLAYERS. He nodded at Jarhead, and they shook hands. Ajax had taught Jarhead alot about his past; having being raised in the Arcane forest by a tribe of Barbarians. They grunted, not needing words to express their mateship. Jarhead slipped inside the huge doors just before they closed. Lord Baron Carloseus stood before him, fully attired and equipped with his massive swords. "On one knee, Jarhead". Jarhead felt the familiar touch of a sword on his shoulder, much the same as when he was inducted into SICK and SLAYERS. Carloseus continued his speech. "It is with great honor that I promote you from the rank of legionaire, to the rank of Decurion. Congratulations." Jarhead was taken aback, it was all so sudden and unexpected. A smile crept over the face of the great leader of SLAYERS. "Come on, lets go to The Tavern of Jay for a couple of rounds. I hear Elfen and his men are finished".
I suppose i am overdue to do another one. If only i wasnt so damn busy all the time.
but yeh i hope to get something going next week.
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-Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth.
not sure i like where that is going. lol. might be fun.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
-Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth.
Winston Told me this was the place to put this so here goes. It is a duel between my character, Sarcon, and his, Winston.
A cold winter’s day outside the tavern, and two young warriors are closing in on the training ground area.
“You don’t have to do this.” Said one to the other in a cocky tone of voice. “Just because Master Carlos says we should doesn’t mean we have to.” “Don’t be so full of yourself. You think you’re so strong but you’re still only a legionare.” Replied the other.
The two walked up to a small sparring area in the woods and unsheathed their swords. They were both about the same age. One was about eighteen years. He held a large bastard sword in his hand. He had blue hair and a red cloak over his shoulders. When they reach an open area in the woods he throws the cloak over onto a stump and grasps his sword handle firmly looking at the other. The other was about nineteen and had green hair that stood up on ones side. He wore light leather clothing, mostly orange. He tightened his wrist bands which had a metal plate on the outside and firmly grasped his katana-like long sword.
“Alright, Winston, you can make the first move if you wish.” Sneered the one with green hair. “Won’t make any difference.”
“Fine, It’s about time someone put you in your place, Sarcon!” Winston charges at him with his sword at his side. He lunges into the air and stretches his arms up with the sword. The sword grows a flame around it as Winston gains speed in air. He comes down at Sarcon on the ground swinging the blade with extreme force. Sarcon bolts out of the way with unimaginable speed as the blade hits the ground and a cloud of dirt forms. Sarcon is behind Winston about fifteen feet away leaning on his sword as if it were a cane.
“Close! You almost had me there. Almost lost a hair.” Laughed Sarcon, knowing Winston wasn’t really trying. He tosses his swords up and catches it in his hands. He holds it down at his side with his right hand and holds his left and in a fist up in front of his face. He closes his eyes and dust begins to shift on the ground around him. A small shockwave is sent out and Sarcon lowers his hand. He opens his eyes again and looks at Winston. “Let’s take this seriously.” He dashes in zig-zags around the area moving toward Winston. He moves next to him and glances at him moving away quickly as Winston takes a swing. He dash to get directly in front of him meeting his blade to Winston’s to hold it there with his left hand. He then spins around with his right hand in a fist to back-hand Winston with a great deal of force. Winston ducks and tugs his blade out of the ground. He then swings it to smack against Sarcon’s sword. Sarcon spins with his sword to keep it in his hand while Winston dashes off through the woods. Sarcon begins to pursue him through the trees and slowly catches up to him. Winston swings his sword at Sarcon and is easily deflected. A series of sword melees follow. The clashing of steal echoes as the two continue to swing and counter each other. They continue to race through the forest, swinging and clashing their swords together until finally they both stop at the same time and continue their sword fight stationary. Winston leaps into the air and into the tree and Sarcon quickly pursues again. They fight steel to steel from tree to tree until it finally ends in a stalemate in a might tree of at least 80 feet tall. They struggle back and forth pushing the blades together. After a short time they both jump back and look at each other, both dripping with sweat. Sarcon, standing on the edge of a branch lowers his weapon and sheaths it. He then falls backwards diving to the ground and turns to land on his feet. Winston follows him to the ground with his sword still in hand, glowing with flames. Sarcon grasps his two short swords that he has on his belt and pulls them out. They both look at each other, catching their breath. Winston takes his sword up and goes at him again. He swings his sword in an upward motion at Sarcon. Sarcon hops up and plants one foot on the edge of the blade and uses the swing as a boost to propel himself up into the branch of a tree. He hops from one tree to another while Winston follows him with his eyes. Sarcon jumps down onto a lower branch and jumps across to the side of another tree and quickly springs himself off of it at Winston. Winston takes his blade and swings it Sarcon as he gets close. Sarcon extends his blades to meet Winston’s at an x. Winston uses the force of his swing to launch Sarcon into a tree. Sarcon stops for a moment and leans his head against the trunk.
Winston then dashes around out of Sarcon’s sight. He springs himself into the tree that Sarcon is leaning against only to see he isn’t leaning against it anymore. He moves quickly searching around for him. Sarcon drops down into the clear following Winston with his eyes until he finally disappears. Sarcon looks around knowing a strike could come at any moment. Before he knows it he feels a sharp pain and collapses. Winston had just bashed him with the handle of his sword in the back of the head. Before Sarcon hits the ground, Winston takes his knee and thrusts it into his gut sending him into the air. Winston leaps into the air with him and brings his fists down again at his back. Sarcon gains control of his motion again and spins around to catch Winston’s fist only to have the force shoot him into the dirt. Winston lands on the ground next to him and looks down on him. He sheathes his sword and extends his hand to help Sarcon back up. “Well played, my friend. It just wasn’t enough.”
Yeah. I had it ocmpletely off the first time. He just told me to remake it as more of a speed/stealth fight so I did and sent it to me and he just told me to psot it.
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Anyway, typing them up now.
Zwik! Zwik!
The dart flew towards the unprotected figure's back, unseen in the dead of night
Ping! Fwip!
The sword moved like lightning as Winston blocked one, deflecting the other with his cloak. "Where is he?" thought Winston intently, slowly turning.
Zwik! Ping!
Another blocked, but where did it come from? Behind again, but wasn't he just facing that way? How is he moving so fa- Wait, what was that? Winston listened intently.
Ziwk! Ping! Fwump!
Wait, what, a net? "No fair, Sofa" cried Winston, "we agreed, normal darts only!"
"Fine" replied Sofawall, directly behind him yet again.
"You know, your piwafwi is kinda annoying"
"Hey, you said magic was allowed."
"I guess I did" said Winston, with a grin on his face. Without warning, his hand shot out and started drenching Sofawall in Slushie.
"Ak, bur, augh!" spluttered Sofawall, fighting to regain the initiative
Swish!
"Well, shall we call it a draw then?" said Sofawall, Winston's sword at his neck.
"Yes, let's" replied Winston, dart jabbing his chest above his lung.
"Bravo!" said Thasador from the door of Jay's Tavern "I see why I promoted you two. You work well together, you seem to almost read each other's mind! It seems as if you already know what is going to happen just as the other thinks it themselves!"
"Thas, you lucky bugger! You know I had my eye on them!" said a voice from behind them.
"Hey, they chose me, Carlos!" as Carloseus strolled over.
"You two re definatly getting better, and sometimes you seem closer than me and Thas here!"
"Another round?" asked Sofawall of Winston.
"How about a round of Darkjay's finest?" retorted Winston.
"Best idea I've heard today!" laughed Carloseus as he opened the door to the warmth and comrederie of Darkjay's Tavern.
"Ready?" asked Sofawall
"Ready," replied Winston "but you know, assassins do tend to do this type of thing at night."
"We could use the challenge, they're only Carvers"
"I guess... Yeah, let's do it."
The two figures ran into the distance, fast as the wind.
Before long, they came to an encampment, well positioned atop a hill, Carvers swarming about. There was, however, a hitch.
"Corrupt Rogues?"asked Sofawall
"Hey, who's holding back now? We can take 'em" called back Wiston as he charged the hilltop.
"Fine, fine" as Sofawall emptied his clips at the encampment.
WHOOSH!
"Incendiary?" asked Winston, backpedaling furiously from the flames.
"A nice touch, I thought" replied Sofawall, smirking.
"Not really needed though" said Carloseus from behind him "I saw the smoke, I came to investigate" he said in response to their puzzled gazes.
"We've got these guys covered." said Sofawall
"I'll just watch then, it's not often I get to see you two in battle together, I've heard you're as good a team as Thasador and I, maybe even better."
A pair of Carvers rushed the small group, a Corrupted Rogue in tow. Sofawall casually shot the two Carvers and asked Winston, "You want it?"
"Sure, I'll those ones too" he replied as a dozen more crested the hill.
The one in front, confidently wielding a short spear, was still snarling when her head hit the ground.
"1 down" breathed Winston, as he ducked a slash and blocked a kick, tripping the attacker. Before he could take advantage on the opening, however, he was set upon by the others, all hacking and slashing. He was a blur of flashing steel, blocking, parrying, riposting, he knocked the blade of one into the arm of her fellow, then opened both their guts to the world.
"3 down"
He caught a sword in his hilt, twisting, and disarmed his opponant, leaving him open for a lunge to the throat, an opportunity not to give a Decurion of Assassins.
"4 down"
2 other fell to his blade in quick succession, as the other turned tail to flee.
"Oh no you don't!" cried Winston as he extended his arm, lauchng an avalanche of slush on his enemies. They fell to a man.
"Not bad," said Elfen Lied, as he casually aved his arm, incinerating the remains, "not bad at all."
"My turn next time" griped Sofawall, walking down the hill.
"Hey, you got all the Carvers!" exclaimed Winston
"Carvers? Pff, they're no fun!"
"Now, now, don't take it out on each other" intervened Carloseus "Well, actually, how do you two feel about a bit of training?"
"Always ready, my lord!" replied the decurions, in unison.
"Ok, then, ready, set, SPAR!"
The large figure kept to the shadows as he approached the battle grounds. Having just awoken, he was still sleepy. He did not want to disturb those that were training so hard. He could hear sounds that suggested sparring was already in progress. As he drew closer, he could see sparks fly, and birds flee the area. The figure did not have his gear on, nor his two Gladius at hand, but he felt safe none the less. He ducked just in time as a shard of ice whizzed past his head. He took note of the direction of battle, and stayed clear of it. He heard the familiar taunts of his great leader, Lord Baron Carloseus, and the war cries of his mentor, the Noble Samurai Thasador. The figure knew both warriors could sense his presence, but they did not react. He slipped past the cheering ASSASSINS Winston and Sofawall, and continued onwards to his paradise; Darkjays Tavern. He pushed open the heavy wooden door with ease and went inside.
The light inside the tavern was dim. There were few around. The familiar sights and smells delighted the figure, who was no longer shadowed, and revealed his true form. Tall and athletic, with short dark hair, he looked much older than he was, plagued by the scars of battle. Some barbarian heritages flowed through him, but were not prominent or obvious to the eye. He approached the bar and waited patiently. "Jarhead, im suprised your back here so soon after losing that bet!". Darkjay stood up from searching under the bar. "Well, i didnt want to be a stranger", replied Jarhead. He pointed to his favourite barrel of ale, to which Darkjay quickly responded and poured him a tall glass of the amber liquid. All of a sudden, the tavern door burst open and in marched Elfed Lied and his men of HELLSING. They were roudy and proud, having just slain countless demons in the valley just outside the citadel. Darkjay turned to Jarhead and muttered, "I best be serving this lot now, we shall speak later". Jarhead quickly finished his beer and bowed to Darkjay and Lord Elfen, and left.
Jarhead marched back the way he had came. As he neared the Training Grounds again, he noticed there were even more people present. Thasador was standing atop a large pillar, adressing his legion. Jarhead didnt want to interrupt such important training, so he decided to exit the citadel and take another route. As soon as he left the gates, fear set over him. He did not have his armor, or either of his Gladius, he was unsafe. He picked up pace, and rounded a corner. Infront of him was at least a dozen carver bodies. He examined one of the devilish corpses, and noticed the familiar bolts of Sofawalls crossbows protruding out of the skull. He laughed, and continued on his short journey. Just as he reached the end of the trail of bodies, he heard the snarl of a foe. He turned to see a stray carver advancing towards him. Without time to think, he tackled the demon, and out of instinct began wailing upon its head. When he realised what had happened, he stared down at the mess he had created. He slowly got to his feet, wiped his hands free of the impurities and continued, feeling slightly disturbed.
Jarhead arrived back at his quarters, and headed straight for his cupboard. After fitting his plated armor and fixing his two enchanted gladius to their hilts, relief set over him. With his gear on, he felt unstoppable, untouchable. He heard a knock at the door, and opened it hastily. He was late for training. A messenger stood before him. "Legionaire Jarhead, you have been summoned by Lord Baron Carloseus to appear at the SICK Castle. You must proceed there right away". Jarhead nodded and gave the messenger a small handful of gold for his troubles. The walk to the castle was rather short. As he approached the doors, he felt a rumble, and a giant of a man with an axe the size of a small child came out the doors. The hulking mass was no stranger to Jarhead. It was Ajax, the mysterious Barbarian of SLAYERS. He nodded at Jarhead, and they shook hands. Ajax had taught Jarhead alot about his past; having being raised in the Arcane forest by a tribe of Barbarians. They grunted, not needing words to express their mateship. Jarhead slipped inside the huge doors just before they closed. Lord Baron Carloseus stood before him, fully attired and equipped with his massive swords. "On one knee, Jarhead". Jarhead felt the familiar touch of a sword on his shoulder, much the same as when he was inducted into SICK and SLAYERS. Carloseus continued his speech. "It is with great honor that I promote you from the rank of legionaire, to the rank of Decurion. Congratulations." Jarhead was taken aback, it was all so sudden and unexpected. A smile crept over the face of the great leader of SLAYERS. "Come on, lets go to The Tavern of Jay for a couple of rounds. I hear Elfen and his men are finished".
hey hey hey ive written a few, check my latest on page 5! lol
but yeh i hope to get something going next week.
We'll start writing it soon.