Zereldo
AQW Class Designer
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Just as some brief side notes, this was inspired by the Doomwood chapters in AQW. Doomwood is a place shrouded in shadows and mysteries and I thought it'd be fun to write about its past and some the crazy schemes and events that have been lost in its shadows. It will consist of 6 parts when it is finished. Currently only three are written.
I will be doing another Grammar and spelling check over this soon. Please note, I will be using British English for this, not American English. I do not want to get into the habit of using American spelling as I am going through tertiary education in New Zealand and will be marked down for American spelling and grammar.
The discussion thread is here http://forums2.battleon.com/f/tm.asp?m=21280028&mpage=1&key=�
Part 1: Descent
To awaken at night to sheer silence without even the wind rustling through the doom wood trees is a feeling that few adventurers will ever know. What was even more disturbing for Marcus though, was that the place he had awoken was the abandoned village graveyard. It had become part of the the towns history, but long since full and out of use save the most significant of village people, mayors, heroes and the like. He had seen it many times as a child, the tombstones so old and eroded they too seemed like skeletons of the shining marble monuments they once were. It was pitch black and Marcus quickly realized he was in what was known as the “Hall of the Great” where only the greatest, most legendary or most missed were buried. He quickly got up and went outside, the full moon shining brightly on the graveyard before him. The graveyard itself seemed decimated, no tombstone stood at all, just rubble that barely resembled its former shape. What was more disturbing were the bodies, or more aptly skeletal remains that littered the ground. They were new, or at least to him, for it seemed clear that these bodies had not been placed there but had rather fallen in combat. Some showed signs of struggle, arrows between and even in bones, shattered bone shard, skeletons with missing limbs. Something had happened, something big and it came as no surprise.
Undead invasion were to be expected when living in doom wood, however Marcus's village had been one of the few who had been known to repel these attacks. Even in the most dire of circumstances his village had been able to hold out at least long enough for the paladins garrisoned at light guard keep to arrive. Marcus himself had fought in his share of invasions, and was a promising young recruit that the Paladins at lightguard were eyeing up, despite being only sixteen. One of the Paladins, Norus, had even taken a personal interest in him, teaching him light magic, and how to craft weapons specifically for fighting the undead.
As he examined some of the bodies, fragmented memories of the last invasion started to return. The arrows belonged to his uncle, who manned the watch tower and was the most accomplished ranger in the town, perhaps in Doom Wood.
“Take cover, perpare yourself,” were the last words he remembered his uncle Carl saying before he launched a volley of arrows at the charging undead hordes. One snippet of battle and that was all that remained, all Marcus’s other memories of the battle were blank. Undead seldom broke through the walls so from what he remembered the battle must not have been favorable. The most logical thing to do was to travel back to his village and find out what had happened, and to see how bad the damage was.
Traveling back to the village at night was never easy, and certainly never safe even in full moon, it just so happened that there was no moon in the sky as Marcus journeyed home. He was used to defending himself from the odd undead whose mindless tendencies had caused it to stray, but tonight, although he could hear them off in the distance, none ventured toward him. Despite this he was on high alert. many who let their guard down at night came home with wounds or injuries, in the worst cases some were even infected and transformed into zombies. He knew his armor, when in a good state would protect him from a zombie bite or wound, but he could not remember anything more of the battle and because there was no moonlight, was unable to see what condition his armor was in. Rather safe then sorry, he had his sword at the ready, and traveled slowly to avoid attracting the attention of beings or creatures.
Seeing his village left him shocked, the wall which once encompassed the whole perimeter of the town was in ruins, breached in several different points. the only segment which remained close to its original sate was the watch tower which his uncle had battle in. Bodies of the dead and undead littered the area, many with arrows sticking out or through them, some even pinned to the wall. There we no bodies of the undead at the top of the watchtower, so it seemed a clear sign his uncle had escaped, no doubt taking his younger sister and mother. It was for them that his uncle had become a ranger, after Marcus’s father had died while he and his sister were younger, his uncle had sworn to protect them as if they were his own family. Uncle Carl had been very resistant to Marcus training and joining in battle, but Marcus was not to be deterred. It was clear the Marcus was more then capable of handling himself and eventually they became partners on the battlefield.
Marcus walked through the main gate, which had been damaged beyond belief with only the structure of the arch remaining. As he wandered through the village heading toward his home, he noticed that there were no lanterns lit whatsoever in the village, no one was on watch. The place seemed abandoned. Rather then continue towards his home and family, he walked towards the centre of the village hoping everyone had taken refuge there, and at the least to walk into the mayor’s office and find out what had happened. The place was a ghost town, there were bodies of the undead, and bodies with clothes he recognized. The closer he came to the mayors office, the more he realized had died.
The Mayors office was open, and so Marcus slowly walked in. No one was inside and he approached the mayors desk hoping that someone was in the back room. The door slowly shut behind him. A slow, but incredibly heavy and raspy breathing dominated what had before been starch silence. He heard a step behind him, a foot, almost forcefully dragged on the hard wooden floor. It was a zombie. Marcus drew his sword and with a one clean motion stabbed it through the chest. The zombie staggered and in pain let out a loud screech. The screech was answered by another from outside, and then another, and another. The screeches continued growing in number and spread like a flame, as if the village was on fire with their screams. His village had lost the battle, these zombies were the people he had grown up with. He barged through the closed door and ran, not knowing how many of those in the village were now hungry for his flesh. Battling in a zombie infested village was unwise. He had been warned against this warned by Norus, as a zombie may appear from any nock or cranny, out of darkness, from below or above, its best to take them out in the open where you can see them without obstruction.
As he ran to the front gate he could hear their panting, their animal like grunting and their unintelligent moaning. He figured there were at least ten chasing him directly and many more following the scent, some even trying to head him off and trap him in the village. He could hear some burrowing up from under the ground, it was a typical behavior of zombies to have a small group scouring the surface to act as scouts or guards, and have the rest underground in waiting. Marcus found himself jumping over the rotting hands, or heads of zombies still burrowing their way out of the ground. If he could see more then their arms and head, he altered his path, not wanting to run into a zombie who had quickly emerged from the ground. His greatest fears were realized when he arrived at the village’s front gate to find another ten there waiting. What had been ten chasing him was now forty and against these odds, no mere swordsman would stand much of a chance. He had been surrounded by numbers like this before, but uncle Carl was always on hand to thin their numbers with some well placed arrows and sometimes even Norus would appear in a blast of radiant light.
Light, that was the solution, a well placed light spell would kill a few of the zombies and knock the others over long enough to make a gap for him to run through and escape the village. He had little time, but he had plenty of mana, as he ran he attempted to charge a light spell. He had done this many times before and so he payed little attention to his hands where the spell was forming. He attempted to fire his spell. It was to no avail as it fizzled on him. Stunned by his spells failure he drew his sword and ran straight into the zombie hoard crashing into the zombies blocking the gate in an attempt to slice through them. One well placed slice saw the death of two, but there was still no clear escape. While attacking another, he suddenly found himself with his back on the ground, tackled from the side by a zombie. His sword was knocked out of hand. Zombies began piling on him, gnawing at his armor. The scraping of metal against relentless zombie teeth echoed through the village. Struggle as he might he could not get them off. Eventually the inevitable, a sharp pain in his left arm. His armor had been pierced.
Marcus Flung into action struggling for everything he was worth, in an attempt to prevent further bites. The zombie virus was curable, if in a small enough dose. He was not sure how bad his infection was, or if it was even curable, but that was no reason to get bitten again. He pushed one off and rolled onto his stomach. He saw feet, not of a zombie but of a paladin. There was a quick blast of light and several zombies lay dead. Marcus felt blinded by the light and could make out the figure of the Paladin pointing his sword at him, to which Marcus quickly picked up his own word and charged into battle against the other zombies. The paladin stood still for a few moments and then charged into battle. Between Marcus’s blade and the Paladin's light magic the zombies were quickly defeated.
The Paladin turned to face Marcus, blade still held as if for battle. There was a look of astonishment on the paladin’s face, and as Marcus’s eyes finally began to see properly again he realized the paladin was none other then his friend Norus.
“Marcus, is that really you?” It was a suspicious and surprised tone he used
Marcus was quick to respond
“What do you mean is that really me? who else would it be?” There was a short silence. Norus looked taken back and troubled.
“After the invasion, no one could find you, we thought you were dead. You’ve been gone for so long. No one ever thought they’d see you again”
“Look Norus I have no idea what’s going on, and I don’t have time to ask. I got bitten by one of the zombies and I need to be treated, will your light magic work? or will we need to head to light guard for something more potent?”
“Let me take a look at the bite for you” he said while reaching for his shoulder. The moment Norus’s hand came down on Marcus’s shoulder there was a sudden jerk.
“Norus... Norus?..... Norus?!?!” Marcus was beginning to feel uneasy.
Norus stumbled with his words “Marcus, your infection... I don’t know what to say.”
“Just come out with it already” Concern had taken over Marcus’s face, there was a feeling of impending dread. Norus kept a long silence, it did not help to reassure him.
“I am afraid it’s fatal.” There was a silence, a stillness, as if death had already struck.
“Marcus, you have only a few hours left before the infection zombifies you, as a paladin it is normally my duty to exorcise you now however, someone of your potential should not be wasted”. His words were said in a contemplative manner, he had thought through what he was saying carefully.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you know how to fight, and how to fight well. At the end of the day you become a zombie. You can fight without fear of death, knowing it is only moments away regardless. Die now the hero you should have grown up to be” The idea seemed strange to Marcus, but it was welcome. If there was one thing he did not want to do, it was wait to die. He would rather go down fighting making one last impact.
“A suicide mission? for the good of Doom Wood? what do you have in mind”
“The necromancer who led the invasion of your village, he has a cave in the mountains not far from here where he was experimenting with undead creations. He is not there for the moment so now is the perfect time to stop his experimenting, who knows what abominations we could stop from being brought to life”
There was no hesitation from Marcus “I’ll do it”
“Then we must go, you have little time left, and we need to make use of every moment you have.”
< Message edited by Zereldo -- 5/17/2013 0:57:16 >
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