Showing posts with label Swords. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Swords. Show all posts

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Rough Draft

Hi All, got a small sample of a rough draft that I may use as a springboard for NaNoWriMo this year!

Enjoy

Prologue: Shield of Secrets, Shield of Faith

Draconas’ leather booted feet sunk deep in the muddy path leading to The Wailing Woman. He was surprised that they didn’t even have cobblestone roads, yet they had a large enough population of visitors that The Wailing Woman’s hearths usually burned brightly until sunrise. Tonight was no exception, and the small tavern looked to be overrun this evening. Draconas wondered why he’d even bothered coming here as he pushed open the thick wooden door, allowing the light of the tavern to wash over him. He could feel the eyes of all the tavern patrons on his tall, muscular frame as he stepped inside. This was most certainly not one of his best ideas.

The village of Essex had seen more than its fair share of excitement in the past year. The local tribe of Dragonspines had become twisted by a kind of fel energy created by the experiments of the brother of the Lord Mayor Christopher Essex, and Draconas’ had heard that a group of orphans had managed to save the city from total obliteration using an artifact they had discovered in the Dragonspine caves to the north. Draconas’ was a man intrigued by unique artifacts and from what he had heard this one was definitely unique. Supposedly, the artifact was a tower shield made from the scales of a white dragon which held the still-living spirit of the deceased dragon within. Any artifact possessed of a soul was of interest to him, even if it was a strange one.

Draconas passed several chattering patrons and made his way to a vacant table near the back of the room. Draconas was used to getting strange looks, as his unusually tan skin and vibrant blue eyes drew much attention naturally, and his choice of clothing did little to push that attention away. His chest was covered by a skin-tight vest of velvet-lined bronze-like metal that so closely resembled his own skin tone that people often thought he was wearing no covering at all.  Similarly disguised, the pair of bracers upon his wrists became visible only as he cast off his heavy, navy and brown embroidered cloak. Draconas’ removal of his cloak also revealed the vibrant crimson sash and pair of glassteel scimitars that were attached to his waist. Draconas sat in the chair and angled himself so he could observe the room, an act which also discouraged the patrons continued stares.

Once he was situated, he began to browse the room for the creature who had contacted him. He figured that a small blue-white lizard-man would be fairly easy to spot among a crowd of humans, yet there wasn’t one to be seen in the tavern. The tavern was fairly packed though, with nearly twenty tables full of boisterous townsfolk. The owner, Marlea (the woman the bar was named for), shuffled from table to table taking drink orders and barking them to the obviously overworked barkeep, while several other young barmaids slipped from table to table dispensing the food and drinks that the matron had already called for. As one of the girls passed a table, one grey-bearded man pinched her on the behind which startled her and caused her to spill the contents of her tray on the man’s head.

“TEEK!” Marlea bellowed, “Where are you? We have a mess to clean!”

Out of the kitchen, a small draconic creature emerged carrying a bar rag and a bucket. “I is here mistress, please do not be cross!”

“You ask the impossible, Teek! Now clean up that mess. As for you,” Marlea swiftly snatched the grey-bearded man’s ear, “you know the rules about grabbin’ at me girls, Gerhardt!” With a tug she yanked him out of his seat, to the door, and unceremoniously kicked him out the door. “Anyone else got a mind to mess with the maids?”

The combination of rapid head shaking and downtrodden looks seemed to appease the matron and she resumed her duties pleasantly enough. Draconas suddenly realized that the name of the bar was less about the emotional outbursts of the owner than it was about her ability to dish out physical punishment. Draconas was also a little surprised by the kobold, Teek. When he’d been informed about the shield, he was told that Teek was its bearer and the last survivor of the Dragonspine tribe. He’d expected a much bolder figure rather than a mobile bar-mop. Nonetheless, he needed to know more about the shield and Teek had the information.

Draconas left his seat and approached the little kobold, kneeling down to help him with his cleaning.

“Oh, no sir, Teek will clean. Please return to your table, sir!”

“Nonsense, I’m glad to help the brave Teek.” Draconas said with a smile.

“Brave?” Teek snorted, “Perhaps you drink too many elf fizzes, Teek is many things but he is no brave.”

“TEEK! Do I pay you to clean or to chatter?”

“Clean, mistress, clean! You go now, sir!” Teek shooed Draconas back to his table.

“Alright, Teek. Promise to come visit my table when you are finished and I’ll leave you be.”

“Teek promises, now go.” Teek resumed his cleaning, ringing the booze soaked rag into the wooden bucket.

Draconas sat back down and waited patiently for Teek to finish his chores, ordering several glasses of Hylar reserve and a plate of spiced eyeroot. After nearly an hour, Teek tottered over to Draconas’ table, climbing into the chair opposite him.

“What you want, T’lorian?” Teek asked.

Draconas eyes went wide for a moment, but he quickly regained composure. “What makes you think I’m a T’lorian?”

“Vinterwysp shows Teek many things,” Teek’s eyes sparkled as he spoke, “He showed Teek T’lorians, and he showed Teek you…”

“Who is Vinterwysp?”

“He the one you’ve come to see, he Teek’s lord.”

Draconas assumed that Teek was referring to the soul within the shield. If he’d had any doubts about the validity of the tale, they were assuaged the moment Teek uttered the word T’lorian. Only a dragon, and a fairly old one at that, would be aware enough of the T’lorians to identify one on sight. T’lorians mostly resemble humans, although they can actually resemble any of the races of Bhakaras, and very few in the world are aware of them by anything other than name. T’lorians pride themselves on being capable of blending in with the other races and keeping themselves hidden in the shadows. If nothing else, Teek had just proven himself to be dangerous.

“Can I speak to Vinterwysp, Teek?”

“Of course, come with Teek.” Teek hopped off his chair and began to walk towards the door. Draconas also got up, wrapping his cloak around himself and dropping a gold piece on the table for his refreshments.

“Where’d you think you’re off to, Teek?” Marlea shot him a stern look.

“This man wants to see scales, Teek show him.” Teek gestured to Draconas

Marlea eyed Draconas closely for a moment and then spoke “Make it quick, Teek. There’s a lot more to clean tonight after the locals clear out.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Draconas and Teek went back outside into the rain and mud, trudging through the town square to a large burnt out manor home. As they made their way, Draconas noticed that the fountain in the square was shattered and seemed permanently darkened by ash.

“That was where they killed Ikthahir.” Teek’s voice was no longer impish and broken as he responded to Draconas’ stares.

“Ikthahir, he was the High Priest of the Dragonspine wasn’t he?”

“Yes, for a time, but he was twisted by that sorceress and driven mad. He got what he deserved for betraying us and our lord Vinterwysp.”

“Why are we going to that manor? It looks abandoned.”

“It wasn’t abandoned; it was heavily damaged in Ikthahir’s attack on the town. It belonged to the Lord Mayor’s brother and served as home to the orphans he was caring for and the place for his dark experiments. The orphans gave the home to me when they left Essex in gratitude for my help.”

“If you are a land-owner in the town why do you work as a bar-cleaner?”

“Matron and Lord Essex thought that the villagers would have a hard time living with a kobold if I was strong and intelligent like Ikthahir. The village had already entered into a shaky alliance with a kobold only to have it nearly destroy them and they wouldn’t have accepted it again. Instead, we all agreed that I should pretend to be meek and subservient to the villagers so that they would allow me to remain here. I had no home among my kind anymore and the orphans were rather insistent that I be allowed to live here in Essex.”

“… and what of Vinterwysp?” Draconas asked

“You like to stay focused… that’s good. Vinterwysp is in my care, eventually someday he and I will help gather together the survivors of the Dragonspine and we will rebuild our clan. However, for now we wait and build up resources.” Teek’s clawed feet sunk deep into the muddy road as they climbed the small hill to the manor.

“So, you believe there are more of you still alive?” Draconas reached out and pulled Teek up out of the mud as he strode up the hill.

“I have hope and faith in Vinterwysp. He protected me from that evil sorceress and helped me save the Desmond boys from those Succubae, and he helped the orphans find their father, unfortunately.”

“Why unfortunately?” Draconas stopped Teek.

“Nathaniel Essex was a demented sorcerer who spent his time doing all manner of vile experiments just because he could. The orphans themselves were an experiment he was conducting. He was attempting to use them to transcend normal mortality, but they learned of his goals and were forced to fight and kill him. That is why they left their home, too many bad memories.”

“I see.” Draconas and Teek resumed their walk to the manor door.

As they approached the manor, Draconas still thought the place looked abandoned, there was no roof, the northern tower had collapsed in on itself, and the entire remaining standing structure was either burnt out or rotten. However, he could feel something as he approached. A psychic resonance that was very strong.

Welcome, Draconas Darkestarr. It is good to see you.

Draconas was used to telepathic communication as his people used it as their primary method of conversation; however, it was still a little unnerving when he didn’t expect it.

Vinterwysp?

Yes. Please follow Teek into the laboratory.

Teek smiled and pointed to a brick façade on the side of the collapsed tower. He walked up to the wall and then, as if it was not there, slipped through the wall. Draconas was impressed, he was usually very skilled at detecting hidden places like this and yet he hadn’t noticed it at all. As he walked through the wall it made more sense to him. There was a ripple of cold through his whole body that was the telltale sign of a planar shift. They had walked into a pocket dimension of some kind. Unfortunately, this room didn’t seem to be in much better repair than the rest of the house. Everything was coated in a layer of dust except one path from the entrance to a large blue-white tower shield propped up against an empty glass tube large enough to comfortably contain a person. The only other furnishings in the room were five additional glass tubes, two of which were broken, and a table that probably once contained a rather high quality alchemical laboratory and some research notes, but they were long since removed.

“So this used to be Essex’s laboratory?” Draconas mused.

Yes, it was here that he experimented on my children and transformed them into horrific abominations.

Draconas approached the shield and crouched down to inspect it. It was obviously crafted from a single scale of a great wyrm white dragon, and had draconic runes gently carved around its edges.

May I? Draconas asked.

Of course.

Draconas smiled and picked up the shield. It was enormous. He was unsure how Teek could have ever moved it given the fact that it was larger than the poor little kobold. However, it was deceptively light and cool to the touch. Draconas wasn’t a shield user himself, but he was incredibly curious about the creation and purpose of sentient artifacts.

So, what would you like to know T’lorian?

How did you come to be?

I was once a living dragon, a very old white. Though not as old as you I’d wager. I was sensing that my time was ending and my children were poised to take over the protection and care of the kobolds of the Dragonspine Mountains. So, I offered a scale to each of them, enchanting them with some of my considerable powers.

You hoped to give them enough power to be capable of protecting the kobolds?

Yes. They were created from us thousands of years ago, and we feel a responsibility towards their safety and care. Plus, they do so adore us and shower us with gifts. I like gifts.

Draconas had a brief internal chuckle. Dragons were notorious collectors of all things shiny. However, it wasn’t enough was it?

It would have been, if my children had been wiser. Instead, they became jealous of each other’s scales and began plotting against each other to steal the scales and eventually they even resorted to attacking me in my sleep to steal more of them. Unfortunately, I was enraged upon waking and destroyed them all. However, one of my children was clever and called upon an elven sorcerer named Kai Vek’Caylenn to help them steal my power. As I raged against them, he used dark defiling magics to strip my soul from my body and cast it into one of the scales I’d given my children.

Kai Vek’Caylenn? Seriously. Are you certain? Draconas held the shield further from himself.

Yes, of course. I was already an accomplished psion before my soul was stripped from my body and since then my powers to learn secrets from the minds of men have only grown.

A dragon with true psychic power is rare, you are quite unique.

Indeed, I was trained in the art by one of your kind, your brother I believe.

Dekall? You’ve seen him?

Not in millennia, but yes. I take it you haven’t?

Not since the day I was born. The council told me he had abandoned the T’lorians and was eventually killed while exploring Bhakaras. I never believed it.

You are a wise man then, Draconas. And you were named well I might add.

 I was named after our mother’s favorite of the native species of Bhakaras.

I know.

Draconas could feel Vinterwysp smile.

I’m curious, Draconas, why did you have such interest in the sorcerer Kai?

You mean you don’t know?

Apparently not, please enlighten me. I do so dislike being ill informed.

Kai Vek’Caylenn is the bastard son of my brother Dekall.

That would explain a few things then, especially why they refer to his errant spirit as The Darkestarr.

KAI IS THE DARKESTARR?

Oh yes, you didn’t know? Kai Vek’Caylenn was disembodied thanks to a group of adventurers shortly after he turned me into this. One of my children led them to Kai to avenge my death, and the sorcerer used me to destroy them, but he didn’t realize that wielding me granted me the ability to affect him with my Psionic powers and I subsequently severed his soul from his body.

Draconas gingerly placed Vinterwysp on the table.

Oh, don’t worry; I’d never do such a thing to you. Besides, I don’t think I still have that kind of power anymore.

Better to be safe than sorry.

Too true. Anyway, Much to my surprise, Kai’s soul remained alive in its disembodied state and attempted to destroy me. Fortunately, my child collapsed the cavern and trapped his spirit long enough for him to take me and escape. Since then, I’ve been passed through the hoard of my descendants, content with using my powers to protect them and my kobolds.

However, that bastard Kai had the last laugh. Several hundred years ago he cast a spell upon me that made it impossible for me to be noticed by anyone who didn’t possess true faith in dragonkind. He believed that he could prove that their love of us was superficial and worthless. He would have succeeded as well if it wasn’t for Teek here. His unwavering faith in my line and our power to protect him and his people is what broke the seal and allowed me to return to the world.

So, you have run into Kai again since severing his soul?

Yes, several times actually. Each time he finds a new host he comes and tries to destroy me. It wasn’t until he realized that he didn’t have the power to destroy me that he placed the curse on me instead. Hoping that I’d at least become forgotten over the years.

I never realized that he was the Darkestarr. I always believed it was my brother.

That wouldn’t be possible. There are no circumstances under which your brother could ever wish for the kind of destruction that The Darkestarr seeks.

How do you know that?

Because, he left your people because they wouldn’t allow him to teach the other races of this world about the secrets they knew. He cared deeply for the natural races of this world and wanted to help them grow and join your people in their exploration of the universe and the other planes, at a natural rate of course. However, the T’lorian council ended up rebuking him for his efforts and cast him out of their society. Of course, the damage was done. Those T’lorians that knew of his struggle began mingling with the other races and that is what started the odd form of cultural exploration your people now experience.

Hmm. I never knew that. I wonder why my family never told me.

If I had to guess, I would assume it’s because they didn’t want to lose you like they lost him.

Thank you, Vinterwysp. This has been a most enlightening meeting. Is there anything I can do to help you?

No, my hoard is made of secrets instead of shiny things these days and the revelation that Kai Vek’Caylenn is Dekall’s son is worth all the platinum of Pennoria.

Fair enough, you’ve given me even more in return. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything.

Draconas dusted himself off and turned to leave the laboratory, but stopped and turned to Teek.

“Thank you for having faith in him, Teek. It may not have yet saved your tribe, but it has given me back a piece of my brother. If I find any of your clan brothers and sisters I’ll send them to you and tell them of your story.”

“Thank you, Draconas.” Teek smiled at Draconas and took out a cloth to begin polishing Vinterwysp.

Draconas smiled back and stepped back through the wall. As he felt the cold chill of dimensional travel pass through him one last thought popped in his mind.

One more thing, I thought you’d like to know that Dekall is still alive…

  

  










Saturday, April 17, 2010

Discipline Blog - Day 5

Discipline Blog - Day 5

Getting off my ass time: 2 hours (I took a walk early this morning to my bank only to discover that the branch closest to my house closed, apparently within the last week).

Today’s blog, unlike the previous couple, will be a small short story of sorts based upon one of my characters on World of Warcraft. This is simply a free-writing exercise so I apologize if it’s terrible or boring. I hope you enjoy it!


Magister Saphyron felt his robes become moist and was unsure if it was blood, sweat or urine that was the culprit. He hoped that it wasn’t urine, but given the circumstances, he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t wet himself. Saphyron was surrounded by a growing swarm of varied undead abominations. Slobbering ghouls and zombies were being trampled by bloated, stitched together horrors, all attempting to intercept and devour the Magister and his few remaining family members. Saphyron’s verdant eyes flashed and a wave of flowing ice erupted forth from him. The wave crashed upon the undead freezing them in place for a moment.

“Brother, I won’t leave without you!” Vhelian, Saphyron’s eldest younger sibling, gripped the back of Saphyron’s midnight blue robes tightly.

“You don’t get a say, I’m sorry Vhelian.” Saphyron gestured at his young brother and his angry eyes rolled back into his head. As Vhelian’s grip weakened, Saphyron pushed his brother’s sleeping form onto the boat with the others. “Live on. Belore.”

The loud crack of smashing ice signaled that the undead would soon be upon Saphyron. He turned from the small ship and began chanting. A burst of vermillion flame began to spin between Saphyron’s raised hands, and he cracked a crooked smile as he felt the first undead reach into the open wound in his side. Blood. The frothing mass of undead descended upon Saphyron’s form, and he unleashed the giant fireball. Instead of striking the undead directly, the explosive force destroyed the dock behind Saphyron and pushed the boat away from the Isle of Quel’Danas. Saphyron crumpled under the weight of the undead swarm. He turned his head away from the oncoming doom and looked towards his siblings. The last thing Saphyron felt was a sharp pain as the chain of an Abomnation came down upon his skull.

*****

This one is mine. He was a beloved son of Quel’thalas. He shall serve us in death, and the desecration will be complete.

Saphyron felt cold. It was worse than the deepest chill he had gotten from calling forth elemental cold. There was nothing around him except a periwinkle mist and a quiet whispering that issued forth from all around him. He heard only one word clearly. Serve.

A sudden burst of pain similar to hiccoughing and belching at the same time jarred Saphyron back into reality. Saphyron could feel the cold stone floor beneath his skin. I’m naked. Curious. Saphyron pushed himself off the floor. His whole body felt like he’d just crawled out of river in the coldest part of Northrend. Saphyron’s skin had taken on a bluish tinge yet he was whole. No sign at all that he had been cut open, gnawed on, or bludgeoned to death that he could see. He wanted to say he was alive, but even as the words formed in his mind he knew it wasn’t true. Even now he was beginning to hear the whispers of the Lich King in his mind.

Come Saphyron, be my weapon against the living.

Saphyron’s senses slowly came back to him and he began to look around the chamber. It was minimalist to a fault. No furniture could be found, only black marble walls and a cold slate floor. Some silver etched dark blue cloth was piled in the corner. Saphyron realized that the cloth was all that remained of his robes. Gingerly, he gathered up the tattered cloth and wrapped it around his waist. It’s cold enough without having to worry about freezing my bits off. Not that I expect to get any use out of them now. Saphyron began to approach the door. Unlocked? No such luck. The bastard isn’t going to make this easy.

Saphyron pressed his hands against the door and attempted to call forth the energy to blow apart the lock, but nothing happened. Hmm, no magic? Being dead is going to be much worse than I imagined. Saphyron let a small sigh escape from his lips and watched in amazement as small ice crystals began to form on the door. Of course! Fire magic may be impossible, but my cold spells should be intensified significantly. He pulled as much air into his lungs and expelled it as a cloud of ice. The door lock and much of the area around it had become frozen. The lock mechanism should be brittle now. With a powerful kick, Saphyron attempted to force the door open. Saphyron’s foot passed through the door as it shattered from the force of his kick. By the Dawn! That didn’t even hurt me. I should have barely cracked the lock. Apparently, death has done quite a bit for my physical strength.

Saphyron began to walk down the halls of the stone prison. Aside from the occasional skull, adorned with blue flaming eyes, the hall was as unremarkable as his cell. Every slapping footstep on the stone brought Saphyron closer to his destiny. He could feel the power inside himself. It was different than the power he had when he was alive. His body was stronger. He paused occasionally to marvel at how good his body looked. He was always a confident mage, but this was different. He couldn’t understand why this made him feel so good. It must be the Lich King’s manipulation.

This whole scenario was reminiscent of Saphyron’s graduation ceremony at the Magister’s Terrace. Saphyron approached the end of the hall and saw his mortal enemy standing on the balcony beyond. He couldn’t suppress a feeling of awe and terror at being so close to the Lich King. It was not unlike coming face to face with the would-be ruler of the High Elves. He could remember vividly the final words of Prince Sunstrider’s speech as he encouraged us not to fear the possibility of giving up our lives for Silvermoon and her allies. He told us, "Death is only the beginning".

The Lich King is going to use me as a puppet. I know this, and yet…I can’t stop myself from feeling that my death has lead the greatest moment of my life.