selyob Report post Posted February 4, 2007 (edited) The stench of decay rode upon the winds blowing in off the Ghealan Ocean. Rumors of missing maidens and younglings disappearing into the darkness of night continually trickled in from the villages which lay along the shores. The elders of the villages assembled and began to devise plans for defense, but frustration was high, as no one really understood how to defend against an enemy which none of them had ever seen. There seemed to be little hope, and what hope there was, was but a dim flicker. For months a new rumor has been spreading throughout the small outlying settlements of a lone warrior coming out of the darkness and delivering helpless younglings from the clutches of the vicious beasts and then disappearing just as quickly into the mists once the battle was over. At first he was thought to be the creation of an over-active youngling’s imagination, seeking attention, but the claw marks on their arms and back were hard to explain away. At first the parents pondered the stories in silence, and then slowly the stories began to surface after quiet whispers of similar events reached their ears. It was not long before the entire country side was filled with whispers of the mysterious stranger who had no name, and yet seemed to have no fear. The Elders sat around the fire in silent meditation, their eyes slowly slipping from one face to another. None daring to mention such a ludicrous option as seeking out this legendary warrior of the shadows, yet he was very much active in every mind. Dogrus was first to break the silence. “I can stand no more of this silence! I may have but 17 men who are able to fight, but fight we will. And fight alone if need be.” A pillar of a man placed his hand on the young dwarf’s shoulder. “Aye Dogrus; I understand how you feel, and I and my fifty warriors are with you, but as the aged council has wisely spoken, how shall we defend against that we know not. It is not cowardice which holds our swords in their scabbards my friend.” “Yet shall we sit and do nothing Scriebus? Your village has lost but one maiden and we have lost twenty! How shall I return to my people and tell my wife that we shall do nothing but wait? What shall I say when she begins to weep for her daughter who is missing now these three weeks? How shall I console her aching soul?” “We all have lost someone to this evil”, a weak shaky voice breaks in. Does racing blindly into darkness with only a sword and shield against that which has no flesh only to join them on the other side bring them back?” They both turn to look at the Grand Councilor. Dogrus’ shoulders slump as his face falls. “I know what you speak is truth, but what choice do I have, do WE have? Abandon our lands? Flee like younglings? Where shall we go, and what shall we do? There is no honor in the death of a coward, and that IS what they will call us.” From the darkness a voice could be heard. “You shall not have to flee.” Like a flash, weapons were drawn, and warriors took positions for battle, their eyes blinded to the darkness before them, after having faced the fire’s dancing flames. Their fists clenched hilts and shields, their ears straining at every sound. Slowly the lines and details of their surroundings began to manifest to them, yet they saw no source for the voice. “Put your weapons away. If I wanted to harm you, you would already be dead.” The voice came again. They scanned the shadows, but again, saw no one. “Then show yourself stranger!” Dogrus growled in demand. “I already have.” Came the reply from behind them. They all spun around as if scalded. Standing behind the Grand Councilor was a medium sized figure, dressed in a hooded cloak. His hands were simply folded in front of him, and he stood without any apparent concern of being attacked. His crystal blue eyes seemed to glow in the light from the flames, yet he made no movement. They stood in blank wonder struggling to understand what had just happened. “Again, please put away your weapons, I did not come here to fight with you.” “Who are you? Where are you from, and why are you here then?” Simeed the dwarf replied lowering her axe ever so slowly. My name is Selyob Nhoj. Where I am from is not important… it is what I know that is important. You have an enemy, and I know its weaknesses. For the last few months you have heard of me, spoken of me, yet until now, you have not met me. It is I who have been rescuing your younglings and maidens. I can lead you to victory, or I can simply leave. It is your choice. Edited March 31, 2007 by selyob Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Roja Report post Posted February 4, 2007 This is a really good story so far! One thing that pops out at me that you need to fix however, is the first half of the story is written in the present tense: "The stench of decay rides upon the winds blowing..." " into the darkness of night are trickling in from the villages which" It should be written in the past, like the last half of your story. rode instead of rides trickled instead of are trickling. etc.. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
PhilDaBurn Report post Posted February 5, 2007 Nice job, Selyob. Very interesting story. I look forward to reading more of your work. Phil... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
