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An imperfect tale of Shadretha

 
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10/2/2012 20:14:57   
poodlemiester
Member

I have started writing a story, and after completing a few thousand words on it, have got mean writers block, and this tale may never have an end. Here is what I have.
AQ DF AQW Epic  Post #: 1
10/2/2012 20:17:24   
poodlemiester
Member

The sorrowful history of a great hero
In the beginning there was peace, there was safety and there were friends. Ruserik always had a talent with a blade, be it a pole-arm, an axe, or a sword. And while everyone recognized his considerable talent, no one ever suspected he might ever rise to the glory of heroism. The young boy was brought up on the rolling plains of the south. He had often looked over the great expanses of grass lands and would often go on explorations with other young friends. They would sneak blades from their father's rooms and go out to go slay wild boars and other such things, often boasting of who stuck the biggest pig. It was on one such occasion where the tranquility of his life was so irreversibly shattered. Him and his friends Animus and Gerald were out "spying" on the disused White temple.

Once long ago the temple had been a place of harmony and balance, though in recent years it had fallen out of use as worshipers of the elements began to distrust one another, eventually leading to the advocates of flame destroying much of the White temple. After that violent betrayal from within the 8 elemental sects splintered off, never again to pray under the same roof.

After a few hours it began to darken. "It's a little early for dusk, isn't it?" asked Gerald. "Yeah, we should still have an hour of light, at least" Ruserik answered his friend. "Well I don't wanna get caught out here by one of those plain stalkers that are rumored to lurk in the shadows" Animus said while eyeing the bushes surrounding the 3 teenagers.

As the 3 young explorers made their way back to their village they saw tendrils of smoke escaping from the rooftops of the huts. As they got nearer they heard the screams of women and children and the echoing yells of men.

The trio shuffled along the outskirts of the town to see if they could see what was causing the havoc, and after a few moments of stalking the bushes they got their answer. Tens, no, hundreds of undead warriors were swarming their village. In the middle of the fray a large flowing mass of shadows stood, blasting men with unholy magic, a manic laughter escaping it's pitch black maw. Animus let out a low moan barely able to utter "They have my dad surrounded."

It was at this point that the other 2 boys realized their families were somewhere in that mass of bone and blades. "We have to go in there, my little sister and mother could be killed!" Gerald weakly whispered. "But the paladins could already be on their way!" Ruserik said, trying to encourage his two disheartened comrades. "Do you actually believe that?! We are in the middle of the plains, help is no less than a hundred miles away!" Gerald cried. Maestro could hear the sadness in his friend's voice and knew what he said was true. "Gerald is right, Maestro. We have to go help, even if we die, we have to try to save those people!" Animus whispered. Maestro couldn't tell if it was bravery or fright in his ally's voice. "Alright, we have weapons, and at least we should be able to help our friends and family get out of there."

"On the count of three we run in there and kill those undead monsters surrounding my dad, then we go search the houses." Animus announced. "And why does your father get to be saved over my mother, or Gerald's sisters?" Ruserik spat at his comrade. "Fine! You go save your families and I will go save my dad by myself! I don't need you two wimps anyway, I always killed the biggest boars." Animus said with an air of superiority. "Then quit talking about it, you big-shot and go kill that lich and his monstrous servants!" Gerald cried. "Then I will!" and with that, Animus stormed off into the burning village. He didn't get but half way through the battlefield before falling over on his back, an arrow straight through his right eye. "NO!" was heard from somewhere in the chaos, before it too was silenced.

"By the Creator... can we really save anyone? The skeletal snipers could be anywhere, we could die within seconds." "What choice do we have at this point?!" Maestro said frantically. "Yeah... I guess I just don't want either of us to end up like Animus did" Gerald said with a shudder. "Very well, I think it is best that we both go get our families and meet where we usually set up camp out on the plains, don't wait for me, it's far too dangerous around here." Maestro said. "See you then, good luck!" Gerald yelled before running into the maze of smoke and undead warriors. What will become of him? Will he die like so many others have? I must have faith in him and follow his example. Ruserik sprinted through the smoldering rubble of the place he once called home, ducking under the heavily nicked blade of a once dead combatant, running his blade through another. As he approached his small abode his worst fears were realized. Smoke was pouring out of the entrance, which had been left ajar.

NO! Ruserik screamed in his head, his mouth failing to produce the desired cry. He ran to the house and lunged into it. What greeted him was a sight worse than he could imagine. His mother was dead, her skin devoid of color and her lips blue. Hiss sister was floating some 2 feet off of the ground, her very soul being drained from her body by the foul magic of the undead caster standing before him. He let out a piercing scream before charging into the dark caster, decapitating the malefic being that had been leeching his sister's very life force. By the time he had dispatched the monster though, it was too late. "Why... WHY?! There's no truth in it!" Ruserik cried.

He knew he could not stay though, so he ran back out on to the field, fueled by the wrath he had just gained from seeing his helpless sister being ruthlessly killed by that.. that... monster. He reached the center of the battle swinging his sword with reckless abandon. That is when he got his first good look at the bringer of this misfortune. levitating over 4 feet off the ground the lich towered over him. In his hand the foul creature held a black skull etched with numerous runes which pulsed a foul crimson. His voice was similar to the sound that of rolling thunder and his laugh akin to the crack of lightning. There was obvious enjoyment in the creature's voice as it struck down the helpless townsfolk. "Oh look at this intrepid boy! So young, so frightened, yet still bent on saving his family. Well i'm sorry to inform you, but only the dead will populate this village by dawn!". Maestro looked over just in time to see Gerald get lifted off of the ground, and with a bright flash of blue get sent back some 10 feet, silent and still. Gerald's family still tried to run though, and at seeing this the horrific being let loose a vicious yell. "Do you not know who I am? I am Maximus, the twilight harbinger!" He promptly dispatched of the woman and her young daughter the same way he had killed Ruserik's ally. After a few moments of battling the noise had settled down considerably, which Maestro had tried to think of as a sign that victory was close, though this hope was soon dismissed once Maximus cried "Yes! Soon none will be left but the dead!"

Ruserik fell to his knees in exhaustion and despair. He had tried so hard, fought so selflessly but would the creator still have him killed today? It was hopeless to fight on. Maximus could rip his very soul from his body without so much as a thought, and recollecting, it was a miracle he hadn't yet. As Ruserik rose to meet his fate he was hoisted up by two powerful gauntleted hands and thrown into the brush surrounding the ashen buildings that once made up his village. He saw bright flashes of light and the gurgling cry that could not be mistaken. Maximus was being hurt. From in the village he heard the thunderous voice of the lich scream an ominous warning "Soon Greed will walk Shadretha once more, and blanket the world in perpetual darkness!" The next thing he knew he saw a round object hurtling towards him. He couldn't move in time and was knocked unconscious with a hollow *clunk*.

It was bright. It was bright and his head hurt. Maestro struggled to get to his feet and view his surroundings. At first he looked around his feet and picked up an aged human skull. So this is what knocked me out last night... He thought with a wince of agony. His head was throbbing. When he turned to the location where his village once stood there was nothing but embers, ash, and a few low burning flames. Oh, and bodies. Twice as many bodies as there were people living in the town the day before. In the very center of this warzone there stood a glowing stone with an impressive claymore protruding from it, veins of darkness creeping up from the stone, slowly consuming the weapon.

"Hey, kid!" A deep voice sounded from behind Ruserik. He jumped and almost fell over, before turning around swiftly to see a truly grand paladin standing before him. With the gold detail of his armor glinting in the morning sun and his eyes burning with righteous might he looked like he could fight an army and come out on top. "Uh... hey" was all Ruserik could manage. "Your lucky I got here when I did. My name is Gerrard, and if you couldn't already tell, i'm a paladin." He said with a hint of enthusiasm. "Yeah but if you got here about 4 hours earlier, that woulda been fine too..." Ruserik muttered, glancing back at his home, his friends, his family all covered in debris and ash. "Just be glad your not in there with em'. Trust me, I know its hard, but once you've seen what this world has to throw at you, you learn to take it in stride."

"Well... what do I now? My family and my friends... and my home are all gone." Ruserik said weakly, glancing back at the ruins which had once been his home. "Well you could come with me, I'm heading up north, i'm actually heading out towards Sorinsport, I've been summoned by the guardians of Azashor and traveling can get lonely, I wouldn't mind having someone to share the journey with."

As the two set out to a local creek to fill their canteen Ruserik brought up what the lich had said before being slain. "What did it mean... that Greed would walk Shadretha once more?" "Oh, the deities of the Old pantheon were rumored to once walk the lands, legend goes that they were all sent back to the lesser voids by the Agents. Now I don't know if that's true, but there are still cults calling themselves "Avaricites" who devote themselves to Greed entirely. it's best not to dwell on such things, but I will warn the guardians of this omen." And with that Gerrard fell silent for the remainder of the excursion.

And so Ruserik set out to Sorinsport, not knowing what to expect and with nothing to lose. Pledging to safeguard the world from this enigmatic "Greed" should his return to Shadretha come to pass.

Travel was slow through the rolling hills of the southern plains, and seeing nothing but grasslands for days on end was taxing for the two adventurers, but with each other for company they managed to make it through the plains and out into the marshlands of Sorin minor, known as the middle lands by most common folk due to it's geographical location.

Though parts of the marshes were relatively dry, the duo were often forced to dredge their wagon from the foul muck, ultimately losing one of their 2 mares to the unforgiving terrain. Beyond the muddy obstacles travel was smooth in the respect that the thieves who notoriously stalked the swamps only tried to get the best of them once, with Gerrard teaching them a lesson they would never forget.

After 3 days' travel through the damp midlands of the human kingdoms they came to rocky moors, which Gerrard told Ruserik was a sign they were drawing closer to their destination. While there was less mud there were far more predators, with coyotes stalking the ridges and drakes swooping in from above, trying to catch wary folk off guard. At one point on this final leg of the journey the sun was blotted out by a massive form and Gerrard shoved Ruserik beneath an overhanging rock. After a few minutes of scanning the horizon Gerrard informed him that the creature had passed. Upon asking, the paladin answered "It was a dragon, and a massive one. It seems to be moving to a location, rather than hunting. But... how could it possibly be coming from the sea? There's no land but for a thousand miles out there" Gerrard murmured glancing over the rocky highlands towards the massive expanse of water which extended out towards the horizon.

After over a week of travel, Gerrard called to Ruserik "Look over yonder, the walls of Sorinsport" Beckoning with his hand to the north. What Ruserik saw was the most impressive sight he had ever laid his eyes on.
AQ DF AQW Epic  Post #: 2
10/2/2012 20:18:27   
poodlemiester
Member

Sorinsport

The world of Shadretha should not be taken lightly, and only a fool walks out of a town without some sort of weapon. When Gerrard and Ruserik first arrived in Sorinsport Ruserik still had his father's blade clutched firmly in his hands. Did he look for it? He wondered. Did he look for his sword, and die without being able to fight back? The memories of that fateful night still flooded his head, seeing his friends Animus and Gerald both being killed by those horrible creatures. Oh and that Maximus, Gerrard had warned him to be wary of that one, as liches have a nasty habit of not staying dead, it seemed.
Ruserik really had no idea what to expect when coming in to Sorinsport. He knew many people congregated there to take up quests and buy the most exotic goods Shadretha had to offer. Would he survive here? Could he possibly keep up with the legendary men and women who make this bustling city their home? He had thought this over often on their journey and he still wondered. Would Maximus ever register up there among some of the horrifying creatures some of the warriors are rumored to keep locked up in to tower for spectacular arena battles? He shuddered at the thought.
As they approached the town he surprised to see the shear size of the city which laid before him, dark and gothic towers, stone walls topped dozens of archers and an intimidating tower made of white marble gave the whole town a factor of supremacy. "That's where the guardians are from, isn't it?" He asked his righteous companion. "Why yes it is, you know guardians are among the greatest warriors to walk the lands?" Well of course I do, everyone has heard of the legendary guardians of Sorinsport Ruserik thought to himself.
After a few moments he spoke up again "Are you a guardian?" "Well actually, yes I am" was the paladin's answer. "That explains how you were able to put down Maximus... was he the most powerful creature you have ever slain?" He asked. "No, far from it, actually. I'm known among my colleagues for being one of the only paladins in our order that has slain a full fledged dracolich." He stated with a large grin spread across his rough face. "I thought those were mere myths.." Ruserik got out in amazement. His mother had often warned him when going out camping to beware of the dracolich, a powerful darkness dragon brought back to life with horrible necrotic magic.
"Heh well those things are child's play to some of the greatest champions of Sorinsport" Gerrard said. "Whats the most horrible monster out there?" Ruserik asked enthusiasticly. "And why would you want to know that?" the paladin questioned. "Because I want to be the one to kill it." was Ruserik's answer. "Heh, well let's start you off with some of the shambling dead that roam the countryside." was all Gerrard said.
A few moments passed and the wagon stopped in front of a massive gate. "Let's hope they don't make you show proof of residancy or a traveling ledger." "Yeah... let's." Ruserik said weakly. Luckily for the young man they met at the gate didn't question the paladin. It was if the guardmen had a grudging respect for the holy warrior. They passed through a number of allys so Ruserik did not manage to see much of the streets. "Don't worry, you can have fun exploring this maze of a city later on, for now lets get you to the tower." And after a number of minutes they arrived in front of another imposing gate, though this one was golden in color. "Can I come in with you?" asked the young boy hopefully. "Well normally only guardians are allowed in, but since you've come thus far, you may as well. I will explain everything to Nimrod, and hopefully he can help you get started on that quest of yours."
The golden gates swung open slowly once Gerrard produced a small signent ring and held it up to the gilded gates. "Woah..." Ruserik said to himself, this being one of his first experiences with the arcane. They abndonned their cart and walked through the the pristine courtyard up to the entrance of tower. After Gerrard knocked on the massive wooden doors sanding before them with three resounding knocks they opened. He could hear the faint clanging of swords and a weak scent of sulfur hanging in the air.
"Greetings, Guardian Gerrard, and... who is this young lad you have brough with you?" Came a resounding voice from behind the pedestal directly in front of Ruserik. "This fine lad is Ruserik, his whole town was razed by the undead, and had I not shown up when I had he would be dead along with the rest of his town."
"Your bluntness never ceases to amaze me, Paladin. Well Ruserik, you are the first not of our order to step foot in this tower in a very long time. I am Nimrod, once an adventurer of some reknown, I mostly keep to the tower these days. What do you want to make of yourself young man? A blacksmith, a fletcher? Perhaps a traveling salesman?"
"No, I seek to be an adventurer, putting down evil wherever it may rise up." "Ah yes, of course. All young men want the glory of adventuring, though notoriety is not easily earned in these parts, young one." " It is not glory I seek, sir. I merely wish to prevent what happened to me to happen to someone else." Ruserik answered. "You are just and you are brave if you do intend to do what you say, truely admirable." Nimrod responded.
"I come seeking a quest, something to get me started on this quest for vengeance." "Then you have come to the right town Ruserik, but let me get you some armor and a few potions before we discuss any more of this monster slaying" responded the aging gaurdian.
Nimrod then retreated down corridor and returned a few minutes later, holding a set of light plate and a number of small potions. "This will get you started on this quest, I believe, but trust me, it won't be the only armor you will wear." He said with a smirk.
"What do you have assigned for my first skirmish against the forces of evil, if I might ask?" Ruserik inquired. "You will put down a small force of undead fighters. They are clumsy and they are slow, but they wield blades and have a bounty on their heads, so this should be the perfect place for you to get some experience and grab some gold."
"When do I head out?" Ruserik asked. "In two days, at the crack of dawn, believe me when I say the graveyard at night is not a friendly place to be when you are hunting the undead, now allow me to show you to your quarters. We had to improvise, as we were not expecting guests."

< Message edited by poodlemiester -- 10/2/2012 20:22:25 >
AQ DF AQW Epic  Post #: 3
10/2/2012 20:19:32   
poodlemiester
Member

Vital information
After Nimrod had led him to an aged wooden door and told him it was his room, Ruserik was left to himself. His room was nothing more than a cleared out storage closet with a small hammock, but it was more than he could possibly wish for, arriving so unexpectedly.

Sleep was hard-won that night, as it had been for the past 10 days. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the lich Maximus striking down his friend with that ghoulish laughter, or he saw Animus dead, with an arrow straight through his eye. Ignorance is justly rewarded he thought to himself, though he still missed his friends terribly. After hours of wrestling with his thoughts he slowly drifted off into the oblivion of a dreamless sleep.

He was awoken at dawn by a young man in clothes which were in a similar state of disrepair to his own. "Master Nimrod seeks that you join him in his chambers at once" was all the peasant said before storming out of his room, probably hell bent on waking other denizens of the tower, Ruserik thought to himself as he readied for the new world that awaited him outside.

When he got out of his makeshift bedroom he realized he hadn't a clue where Nimrod's quarters might be located, so he wandered the white stone halls at some great length before finally arriving at a set of grand oak doors. Could this possibly be the chamber he was seeking? He wondered.

After a few moments of mustering his courage he managed to knock on the impressive doors 3 times, imitating Gerrard's knock at the front of the tower. Ruserik was elated when he heard the familiar voice of Nimrod calling for him to enter. With a hearty shove one of the solid doors swung ajar and the young warrior entered the lavish quarters of the Head Guardian. Inside he found velvet curtains hanging on either side of a massive window, giving all who were inside a beautiful view of the cityscape sprawling out beneath the tower. Every wall was lined with Ebony bookshelves filled with large leather bound tomes and at the center of this luxuriant room stood a large wooden table, polished to a glossy finish and in a state of disarray with piles of official looking papers scattered about. Sitting on the far side of the desk in a rich velvet chair sat Nimrod, his long silver hair glistening from the sunlight coming in from behind.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, we have much to discuss."
Ruserik sat down in a plush velvet chair opposite of the guardian. "What is there truly to discuss?" Ruserik asked. Nimrod knew the story behind his travel to Sorinsport, what else could there possibly be to talk of? He pondered.
"All in time, all in time. First off, though, I still don't truly know you, and until I know you, there is little I can do to help further your cause. How old are you? What drove you to come here, of all places Why not set out on your own as a simple hunter? You are an enigma to us all, so lets lift the haze of uncertainty, shall we?" Said Nimrod, giving an order more than asking for an explanation.

"Very well, Nimrod, but in return I want answers as well. Bare with me as I recount my tale. I hail from the plains of the south. If you looked on a map, you would not find it, and if you sent a scout to find it, you would find only ash and the bodies of those I once loved. I am a man of 19 years and on the plains there was not much to do other than hunt for sport. I know not why the lich attacked my humble town, but by the time me and my friends returned home the village was already ablaze. I fought bravely, even though all those I loved fell around me. I could not simply forfeit my life, though I would surely be dead had it not been for the paladin Gerrard. I remember hearing the lich say something of Greed roaming the lands once more, and how he would bring with him an endless reign of darkness. Other than that, it is all a blur until the kindly guardian woke me in the morning. I set out to Sorinsport because it was the largest, most powerful place I could go. After hearing what the lich said, I do not want to be left out on the plains just waiting for the forces of darkness to sweep over the land.

"You have come to the right place if you seek to help the league." Nimrod sad with an air of reassurance.
"But like I said, I too have questions." Ruserik began.
"Then ask."
"Alright, what is 'the League'? Is Greed a real threat? I know so little, coming from the plains far down south. I am just so uninformed."
"The league was first established to unify the human kingdoms in times of war, it was named after the first great human king, with it's whole name being The League of Azashorr" stated the elderly guardian.
"And what of Greed?" Inquired Ruserik curiously.
"That... that is a different matter. We long discounted the Old pantheon as nothing more than mere myth, however dwarvish archaeological in the eastern ranges have brought up some... disturbing finds. Ancient drawings depict the Old pantheon coming from the sky, the world going dark, and then the agents coming to seal them away in their primordial homes." Nimrod stated grimly.
"The agents of creation?! Surely they are but myth." Ruserik said full of surprise.
"They very well could be now, some report seeing them every now and again, but their accounts are easily dismissed, though we do know there are signs they have interfered with the world before."

"So... so the agents are real. and so is the Old pantheon. Why don't the agents come and save us again?!" Ruserik responded, with a hint of fright.

"Because even if they did once meddle in the affairs of us mortals, they could be long dead for all we know." The captain said grimly.

"If not for the agents, then how can we possibly kill a deity of the old pantheon?" The young man asked, this time with audible panic in his voice.

"That much is unknown, Greed could come at anytime and be anywhere. He has the power of a lesser god, and has quite a few followers. If he does emerge, we will have to act swiftly and with full force." Nimrod said. "Until then though we must prepare the the League for war. It is one thing to engage a god in warfare, it is another for one to deal a surprise attack to our defences." The man continued "What we do know is that the dead are no longer at peace. Thousands flock, even now, to the gates of Theringarde. We are sending reinforcements there tomorrow evening, and I want you to go with them to assess your combat effectiveness."

"When am I to leave?" Ruserik inquired.

"At dawn, we march our forces out the gates. I do hope you will be prepared for the adventure ahead."

"I give you my word, I will accompany your reinforcements to put down the restless dead."

"Good, now I believe Gerrard mentioned you wanted to see the city proper? It may be your only chance, so get to it." Nimrod said with a sly grin.

< Message edited by poodlemiester -- 10/2/2012 20:23:23 >
AQ DF AQW Epic  Post #: 4
10/2/2012 20:26:04   
poodlemiester
Member

A delightfully bizarre city
As Ruserik walked down the flights of marble stairs he could not help but grin at hearing the gold coins Nimrod had given him jingle in his pocket. Now that is a sound I could live with, he thought with a broad grin streaked across his face. Approaching the massive doors of the tower two young squires rushed over to open the doors for him and abruptly closed them once he had passed through the entryway.

The air was thick with a fog that hung lowly to the ground, and masked some of the sun's light giving the cobblestone streets a cool and moist atmosphere. As he walked along Ruserik could not help but occasionally stand and stare at the numerous towers that stood defiant against the heavens themselves. Soon though, he was free from the magic district of the grand port city and found himself walking along the wharf. The pungent smell of fish hung in the air as he made his way across the soggy logs that made up this district's walkways.

As he walked long the pier Ruserik was completely astounded at the magnitude of the ocean that stretched out before him. Rarely did he find a new source of running water, and now he stood before the largest single body of anything he could imagine. He had been informed that the water was stalked by a number of vicious creatures. Thresher sharks, Salt water hydras, and even the occasional Water dragon were known to pop up in the docks occasionally, so he had been advised to refrain from entering the murky waters of the great ocean.

After a few minutes the lapping of the waves subsided and he soon left the waterfront behind, now entering the lucrative trade district of Sorinsport.
Gerrard had gone on at length describing the massive amount of unique and utterly odd items one could find at the multitude of emporiums which lined the rows of this fantastical locality.

Though he began his excursion at high noon the sky was already growing dark and he realized he had spent some 7 hours losing himself in the many shops and exciting ally ways that made this town the labyrinth of adventure that had lured so many people before him.

After spending a few more moments in the dimming sun of the glorious town with which he had fallen in love with Ruserik decided to retire for the evening, not wanting to march on a half night's rest.

Upon arriving at the great gates of the tower the young man forgot he needed a signet ring to open the massive doors. With this realization he knew there was only one way he would be able to get back in to the tower.

Upon his third attempt he managed to toss his gear over the great fence and began hiss climb. About half way up he heard a familiar voice shouting at him. "What in the planes are you doing?!" shouted the servant from the morning. "What does it look like i'm doing, i'm coming home!" "You blasted knights are the most foolhardy bunch I have ever lain eyes on!" Screamed the servant.

The visibly disgruntled peasant produced a small ring, making the golden gate swing inward. Ruserik fell 14 feet to the ground with an audible thud.

< Message edited by poodlemiester -- 10/2/2012 20:27:46 >
AQ DF AQW Epic  Post #: 5
10/2/2012 20:27:21   
poodlemiester
Member

That's all for now, folks
AQ DF AQW Epic  Post #: 6
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