draketh99
Purple Armadillo
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Chapter 1: Lights Out
It was a cool, dark evening in Falconreach, as a young boy, with silver hair sat with his back against the Guardian Tower, overlooking the town. Even with his bright silver hair to be compared to, the boy still looked fairly pail. Though why shouldn’t he? The boy spent his days hiding and was out during the night, searching for food. This evening, however, was an exception. There had been a great deal of happenings in Falconreach of the late, and the young Lance was interested to know what disorder during the day could leave such a feeling of disturbance throughout the entire night. The nights had been full of an uneasy mist for weeks now, and Lance wanted to know why.
So there he sat, watching town’s people bustling back and fourth, watching dragonlords scramble after their large, reptilian companions, and watching pactagonal knights tumble over themselves. A few people caught his interest however, and they were the ones who always caught his attention. The first of which was Alina, coming in and out of her shop with handfuls of plants, other regents, and potions. The second was Warlic appearing ever now and then, coming through his portal when he did (Lance had a slight pre-occupation with portals). The last two were Lim and Cysero. It amazed the young boy how much they made science and magic work together no matter how hard they tried….not….to…. Nevertheless, he sat watching, with procured interest at what would happen next.
It was then, that two guardians passed by on their way to the tower, Lance let them pass by, un-interested (guardians normally only discussed things such as “honor” and such, which really made no sense to young Lance, as he never really learned what that word, and ones like it, meant). As they passed, however, one word did procure his interest. “War”. In less than a second, the young boy was tailing the two nights to attempt to over hear just what they were talking about.
“We need to be ready, this looks to be the worst Friday-XIII we’ve ‘ad yet”
“Aye, and its lookin’ to be the only one this year. You do know what that means, don’t ya?”
“It means that we’ll eitha be cleanin it up till next year, or we won’t make it till then.”
“That it does, so get a move on with ya!”
It was settled, Lance now had to learn more about this “Friday” and why thirteen of them were so important. He remembered one thing though, and that was that he had heard the terms “Friday” and “amittyvayle” in the same sentence before, and he knew Amittyvayle was a place. Young Lance was now determined to get to Amittyvayle!
Chapter 2: Off to a Strange Land
Lance made his way to Amittyvayle as swiftly as he could, taking all the back roads as to avoid un-necessary confrontation. Going down twisting paths and along winding streets, he noticed the trees began to block out the sunlight the further he went, this was of little consequence, as he avoided sunlight as often as possible. The tips of the trees on either side of the path would meet at the center, then down to reach at the passing adventurers that came through these woods. The smell of damp earth and moss was prevalent in the cool air. The spongy earth was riddled with small boulders at random intervals. The only sounds he could hear were the clicking and scratching of tree branches, and the “squish” sound that came from stepping on wet moss. The path was slowly becoming more of a swamp the further he went, and the trees only became more and more formidable.
It was then that something broke the ever so prevalent silence. The sound of hollow logs clacking together, the sound of metal scraping metal, and metal scraping leather and stone came from what seemed like all directions. The earthy smell of damp ground and wet moss, slowly went sour, and the pervading smell, the so corrupted smell of death was now overpowering.
Lance went from a leisurely pace down the path, to darting between trees. His senses were loaded to the point of popping, and sending one signal and one signal alone to his mind “Danger!” Heeding his senses, Lance began taking more and more time between darting between trees. The sounds and scents became louder and stronger. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. And a cold sweat dripped down his back.
It was then that he heard twigs begin to snap all around him, they, it, whatever was coming, was close. He peered around the tree he was currently behind it, and saw just what was coming. Large, unearthly creatures, they walked on two legs as people do, yet weren’t human, not anymore. Some were as much as eighteen feet tall. What flesh they had, was rotting and falling from their bodies with every step. The larger ones still had muscle intact, the smaller were lucky if their tendons kept their limbs intact. They left the scent of rotting flesh and sheer death where they went, and their massive numbers were moving intently on a destination. Where ever they were going, Lance wasn’t going to stay to find out.
He made a dash for a cave, not more than 30 yards away, tripping over his feet along the way. This is the sentence where his thoughts would be written down, but by now, pure instinct had taken hold, and sentences such as “run” or “hide” or even “survive” wouldn’t work for an interesting story. Nevertheless he dashed for that cave, branches striking and slicing at his face and body, he was almost there. When Lance was a little more than 20 feet away, something caught his foot and tripped him. Struggling to regain his senses after being denied his goal, he looked around to realize that he was surrounded by skeletons.
“By the avatars” he swore, a phrase he picked up from the guardians when they accidently were hit while training.
The circle of skeletons, and assorted undead around him was slowly closing, enclosing, enveloping him. At that moment, Lance felt something flowing through him. Something powerful began coursing through his veins. His urge to flee was replaced by a will to fight, and a will to live. As a skeleton stepped closer, he felt this power grow stronger and stronger. The second the skeleton was within striking distance, Lance unleashed that withheld strength and struck out! *thwack!* *crunch!* Lance stepped back, his hand numb in pain, and the skull of the skeleton cracked.
“That was a bit less than expected” Lance said to himself.
“aroooooooo!” was the skeletons reply (They really didn’t say much)
Lance took a couple steps back when- *Thwack!* *Thump*
< Message edited by draketh99 -- 6/27/2011 17:32:57 >
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