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LedZepMan92

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LedZepMan92
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PostedFeb 08, 2009 9:26 pm   Last edited by LedZepMan92 on Jan 22, 2010 2:36 am. Edited 1 time in total
"I don't like it."

The air rang as the Nordein warrior ran the whetstone down his axe blade.

"Why worry about it?" a nearby guardian asked. "If it helps us kill the Alliance, who cares if it's creepy?"

"Because it's... not real... or something. I can't pin it down exactly. It just doesn't feel right."

The warrior paused in his sharpening. After a moment of thought, he continued.

"When they grin like that... they don't seem... alive. At least, not like we are. They seem... from somewhere else. Like they weren't born in this world... more like... the abyss..."

He looked up to see that the other Nordein were not looking at him, but at something else. He turned his eyes to the group of Vail facing him.

His neck tensed involuntarily. Racial relations between the Nordein and Vail had never been wonderful, exactly. The Nordein thought the Vail were weak for using magic and trickery, and the Vail considered the Nordein brutish and ignorant. There hadn't been any outright conflict yet, but there was constant muttering behind each other's backs... the kind that could make tempers flare...

The Vails remained still. The warrior restrained himself from tightening his grip on his axe. Finally a pagan broke the silence.

"We don't like it either."

There was a cautious relaxation. The Vails approached and sat. Another Vail, an assassin, continued:

"We feel what you feel. Those assassins... they don't act how assassins usually act. We can be... grim, even cold-blooded at times... but never... that."

The horrible grins flashed through the minds of all present. Some of the hunters grimaced. They recalled the blood sporting from veins and the eyes rolling in decapitated heads... among the laughter. The laughing, the grinning, the joy being found in death, even as elven arrows pierced their black hearts...

The second blast of the horn brought them back to the present.

"The Alliance! They are coming!"

The Fury soldiers leaped into action.

"How could they get this close to the fortress?" the warrior asked as he dashed to his formation. "Could they have taken the relic?"

The hunter grunted. "Must be. They wouldn't make themselves surrounded, would they? Looks like those crazies weren't enough to stop them. Maybe we've underestimated the annoying persistence of those fairies."

The warrior usually would have laughed at the insult directed at the hated elves, but his mind had no room for mirth. He couldn't help thinking... if those assassins who were supposedly sent to "change the course of the war" couldn't stop the Alliance from taking the relic...

Why were they here?

* * *

Trogdor led his forces to the right, away from the main force. It was a standard flanking maneuver. They'd keep out of the main fray, cut around the Fury forces, and slash through the ranks of pagans and oracles. Without the support, and finding themselves surrounded, the remaining forces would rout or surrender. At least, that was the plan. It all sounded so easy when the hardened, veteran commander laid out the battle plans. Making it work, Trogdor thought, is the difficult part.

He raised his hand, and the company of elves stopped. He waved it, and the rangers formed up around him with the arches spread out behind. They awaited the battle to begin.

Trogdor squinted as the sunlight flashed off the steel of the crashing armies. The fighters and defenders charged down the hill into a volley of arrows and javelins. The hail of missiles did not last long, as the mages poured magic fire into the lines of hunters. Since the Fury army had not expected the Alliance to arrive so soon, they had left the good terrain open. They paid for it with their blood. The pagans could not retaliate without blasting at their own front line. Oracles blindly projected healing spells into the crowd; it was all they could do to help. Trogdor knew it was the moment to strike.

"Charge!" he yelled, and the elves ran like the wind. He saw the volley of arrows fly over head and take its toll on the Vail casters. He expected a second volley before the rangers closed, but it did not come. He felt worried a split second, then thought that perhaps the archers thought the rangers were too close and would be hit. No matter. As they drew close to the enemy and his hand tightened on his dagger hilt, another thought appeared in the back of his mind. His eyes, for a brief second, took in the full measure of the battle before him. The small thought made itself known.

Where were the assassins?

He had no time to give it any more consideration, as he was stabbing a pagan in the chest. His hands were a blur, and many Vail fell before his blade. It was almost too easy. They were slicing through the enemy in a fountain of blood, and it was mere moments before the rangers had, it seemed, no one left to fight. Trogdor turned to look back at his archers.

He saw only corpses. He turned to the horde of assassins now charging the flank of the mages and priests. On their faces he saw... grins.

The Nordein retreated, because they were no longer necessary. The assassins smashed into the already spread out casters, making them scatter. The fighters and defenders had no time to react before they were set upon. It was now no longer two sides fighting in a battle, it was a group of men and elves fighting for personal survival against a terrible foe. Assassins and Alliance fell to the ground, mostly the latter. Trogdor looked in horror as the proud elf archer was surrounded, his bow broken and him slashing wildly with his sword... he was cut down.

The great commander swept away clusters of assassins with great swings of his giant sword. He grunted with every effort, determined to hold them off. An assassin jumped on his back and plunged a dagger into his throat. He dropped his sword. The commander quickly reached up and snapped the Vail's neck with his hands. Another rushed with claws spread wide... the man smashed in the attacker's face with his fist. He tackled another assassin, and dented the Vail's skull with his elbows. Steel claws pierced his back and protruded out of his chest. He twisted, breaking the Vail's wrist, and kicked him in the crotch. As the Vail fell, the human brought his heel down on the assassin's head. He tried to stand, but was weighed down by the dead Vail still attached to him by blades... another assassin stepped on his neck, forcing him to the ground. The assassins swarmed over him like vultures. He managed to raise his head and looked at Trogdor through a gap in the bodies. Their eyes locked. The commander mouthed something:

"Run..."

Trogdor and his rangers fled. The ones in the rear screamed as they were cut down by the assassins. He could hear laughter behind him. He looked back. The assassins were beginning to slow down, apparently deciding that they were content with their harvest. The rangers met up with the mages and priests already running toward the relic. As he ran by, he tried to look at the faces of those who had escaped. Relief filled him as he recognized her face. She recognized him as well and felt the same. Trogdor almost ran over a priest who had stopped in his tracks. As he dodged around him, he began to yell, "What are you..."

He also stopped in his tracks. He was faced by a wall of steel. And holding the steel...

Grins.

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Pandaemoniumx

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PostedFeb 09, 2009 6:49 pm
*claps* You are officially better than the other Alliance story with Anky. Bravo!

LedZepMan92

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PostedMar 10, 2009 5:44 pm   Last edited by LedZepMan92 on Jan 22, 2010 2:40 am. Edited 1 time in total
"Heh heh, it seems we've caught some juicy flies in our web."

The gleeful assassin took a few steps to the frozen group of Alliance. He continued grinning as he looked into Trogdor's eyes.

"Morbid metaphors aside, I've got a message for you. It's quite lovely, really. I'm sure you've been wondering about..." He turned and gestured toward the arrayed Vail. "Us."

The assassin chuckled a little, a surprising restraint from the mad laughter Trogdor had experienced before.

The Vail continued. "We've been taught some special tricks, as you may have noticed. But anyone can learn those if they want. At least, if they don't do something stupid and die. These special skills aren't the source of our power. We've been taught the power of the inevitability of death. We're all going to die. Death's all that matters in the end. Why not enjoy it? Bring it to everyone else. Make others die, feel the glee of murder, fill yourself with as much pleasure as possible before you cease to exist. Nothing else matters, nothing at all, heh heh. We've been taught this truth, and that's what makes us so strong. We don't care if we die. We just want to spread it around. So while you sad little fairies are trying to save your pathetic lives, we're not giving a **** and killing you. It's so much fun, hah."

"Why are you telling me this?" Trogdor managed to reply. "Are you just trying to scare me?"

The assassin chuckled again. "Well, apparently, my master thinks you're someone special. I can't imagine why, but he wants to teach you this truth as well. He wants to make you one of us. And that's why we killed your father."

The Vail continued while Trogdor simmered with rage. "See, that's the way we were given our power. Our master destroyed everyone we held dear. Oh, we wanted revenge, for a while. But we couldn't get it. He taught us that the power of futility is stronger than the power of purpose. When you stop caring, you become stronger than anyone else. It's so brilliant, heh heh, and it makes us so happy... I don't even care that he killed my family. He murdered my wife, my son, my infant daughter. Who cares? They would have died... anyway..."

The Vail paused, thinking for a second. A mix of emotions flashed across his face. Trogdor thought he could maybe see... anger.

The Vail snapped out of it. "And now, my little elf friend, we're going to kill everyone except you. See, you're going to be given the opportunity to get our power. And it starts with destroying everything you hold dear. Don't worry, in the end, you will be glad it happened. Heh heh. Let's begin."

Trogdor stepped in front of the mage, and immediately regretted it. The Vail's head jerked toward her. "Heh, you've given us our first target. This is most fortuitous, heh heh. Today is the first day of the rest of your death. Heh, I'm so clever." And the Vail sprinted toward the mage. His eyes grew bigger as he saw the terror in her eyes. He clenched his dagger, preparing for the taste of death...

Trogdor gave it to him. Trogdor had scarcely pulled his dagger out of the Vail's throat before the rest of the assassins charged. Some of the Alliance snapped into action, blasting assassins with their magic, but most of them were paralyzed with fear. But it didn't matter. The Vails ran past them, focused on one elf: the mage Trogdor was protecting.

And protect her he did. Something rose up inside him that he didn't fully understand, but fully embraced. The words of the assassin resounded through his mind. They wanted to take away what he cared about and transform him into an instrument of death. Trogdor thought to himself: "If they want the former, they're going to have to deal with the latter." With that thought, he slashed a Vail's face open.

Trogdor jumped and kicked an assassin in the face, breaking his neck. As he landed, he spun and pierced a Vail throat with his dagger. He pulled it out, ducked as claws slashed through the air over his head, and punctured the Vail's lung. Another assassin jumped over the crumpling body and tried to stab down at Trogdor. Tried and failed, as Trogdor had already moved behind him, stabbed upwards into his groin, and fluidly pulled his dagger into a slash that decapitated another Vail.

The mage fought as well, bringing a lightning bolt onto one Vail and then blasting another's face with magic fire. She brought green roots out of the earth to ensnare an approaching assassin, then sent a magic bolt into him, bending his body backwards and snapping his spine. She summoned a small tornado and sent it into three charging Vails, sending them flying onto nearby rocks. An assassin, having escaped her detection, raised his dagger to plunge into her neck...

Trogdor was there. He caught the assassin's arm and plunged his own dagger into the Vail's eye. The assassin fell. Trogdor turned to look into the mage's eyes. He expected to see terror. But the terror had turned to determination. Trogdor could see that she had been affected, like he was, by the Vail's horrible words. He saw the remaining assassins approaching. He looked at the blood on his dagger. He turned, and saw the Alliance mages and priests flooding through the fortress gates. He turned back to the mage.

"Run!"

They ran to the drawbridge. The assassins who tried to stop them were either cut down by Trogdor's steel or destroyed by the mage's magic. The pair was determined to live. The guards retreated into the fortress and prepared to raise the bridge. Trogdor and the mage ran for their lives, the assassins right on their heels. The guards didn't want to wait any longer, and began to raise the bridge. The wooden boards began to rise from the edge of the ditch. The pair leaped...

And came down on the boards and sped under the gate.

The assassins tried to follow. One leaped and got one foot on the edge of the bridge... he slipped and tumbled into the ditch, breaking his neck. Another tried to jump, but it was too late, and he was impaled on the spikes on the edge of the bridge. One more came through the air, and grabbed onto the wood. He hauled himself over the edge, rolled down the rising bridge...

The guards dropped the portcullis. The spiked bars plunged into the Vail's flesh. They raised the gate, pried his body off with their halberds, pushed him out of the way, and dropped the gate again. Trogdor, the mage, and the other Alliance looked on as the gears clicked, and then the metal came to rest.

They were safe.



(just a P.S. here... I was sick for 3 weeks, Sad so I wasn't really able to update this thing for a while. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep up with it now. If you're still reading my story, thanks for your patience.)

Pandaemoniumx

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Pandaemoniumx
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PostedMar 10, 2009 6:21 pm
Back on track Led. It's becoming more of a pvp fan-fic but it's sounding really good right.

KEEP GRINDING THOSE COFFEE BEANS!

Kid

Henaru

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Henaru
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27 Dec 2008
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Stalybridge United Kingdom
PostedMar 14, 2009 8:45 am

Theres yours, then theres mine.

Which is better? lol Joke.
Wow thats quite gripping. I've made up my own story on another site, still got to finnish it though. Its about a dragon cause I love dragons. Take a peek if you want, here is the link I hope you like it! http://henaru.deviantart.com/art/Sacred-Quest-A-Dragons-Tale-100090171 I've enjoyed your story so far, keep up the good work.

LedZepMan92

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PostedApr 01, 2009 3:21 pm   Last edited by LedZepMan92 on Jan 22, 2010 2:43 am. Edited 1 time in total
Trogdor shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. He answered question after question about the assassins' behavior. The Keolloseu leaders occasionally whispered amongst themselves between queries. Eventually, the leader, known as Kali, stood up.

"Thank you, Trogdor. This information will be brought to the Alliance Council in Apalune, where they will consider it and decide what course of action to take. In the meantime, take this letter to the captain of the guard. He will give you your next instructions. Again, thank you, and farewell."

Trogdor nodded and turned to leave. The guards stepped aside and opened the great oak doors. As his footsteps echoed down the long hall, he pondered what his instructions could be. Was he to go back into the borderlands? It didn't seem likely, since the Alliance forces had been decimated. Those lands were lost to the Union of Fury.

The light almost blinded Trogdor as he stepped out of the town hall. Once his eyes grew accustomed, he made his way to the captain. The captain gave a brief acknowledgment and read the letter Trogdor presented him. While reading, he occasionally glanced curiously at Trogdor. He finished reading and folded the paper.

"You're going to receive some special training. Volke is an elite ranger who knows the arcane techniques of your class. I don't know why, but he's going to teach you. Head to the south gate of the city. He should be in the second market stall inward from there. Those are your orders. Farewell."

Trogdor departed. As he approached the gate, he spotted the market stall the guard had indicated. He walked up to it and found himself face to face with a Vail.

Trogdor let out a yell and drew his dagger, ready to defend himself. The Vail laughed, but not in the evil way of the twisted assassins.

"Relax, hotshot. I'm not gonna hurt you."

There was a flash of light, and Trogdor found himself face to face with an elf. Volke was still chuckling to himself.

"Sorry if I scared you there. Sometimes I just can't resist using that little trick to scare the newbies. Anyway, if you're here, I assume I'm supposed to train you?"

Trogdor nodded, still a little shocked.

"Good, good. Well, come along then. You a fast runner?"

"I think so," said Trogdor.

"Good. Try to keep up." And he vanished in a blue streak. Bewildered, Trogdor looked out the gate and saw Volke on the other side of the bridge, looking back.

"You're supposed to move your legs, you know!" he shouted. Trogdor started running, and Volke turned to continue on. Trogdor ran as fast as he could, trying to follow the blue streak in front of him. "How is he moving so fast?" he thought. Volke topped a hill and disappeared on the other side. Trogdor reached the same hill, and found himself amidst a pack of wolves and bears. Growls and snarls filled Trogdor's ears as he passed the beasts. They gave chase, snapping at the dust kicked up by his feet.

Trogdor literally ran for his life. He could constantly hear their noises just behind him, motivating his legs to pump faster than he thought possible. He could hardly breathe. He jumped a fence. The bears gave up at that point, but several wolves jumped over and kept after him. Volke shouted from the hill far ahead of Trogdor: "They'll keep chasing you until they kill you or you kill them! Better make it the latter!"

Trogdor skidded to a halt and turned to face the wolves. He could barely bring his dagger up before the first had pounced. Trogdor dodged by mere inches and slashed at the passing wolf. The whimpering body tumbled to the ground. Trogdor slashed the throat of another wolf only to have another jump on his back. He threw it to the ground and stabbed it. There were three more. Trogdor was exhausted. He could feel his limbs slowing down. All three pounced at once. Trogdor plunged his dagger into one and kicked the face of the other, but third one brought him down. The wolf opened his jaws and prepared to rip Trogdor's throat out...

Volke pulled Trogdor to his feet. The bleeding wolf lay still beside him.

"That was what I like to call 'learning by experience.' As a ranger, you'll need to cover a lot of ground quickly. You can do that already, but it leaves you so tired that if you need to fight when you get there, you're screwed. And that's where the technique called Sprinter comes in handy."

Trogdor, sore with exhaustion, winced as Volke slapped him on the back amiably.

"I think we're both going to enjoy this, kid."

Lowri22

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PostedApr 07, 2009 10:40 am
:O!!!!!!!!!!

This story... Its like a permanant Strike roots, Im ensared and cant get out... I need more!!! *Stares hungrily*

Appaloosa807

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PostedApr 08, 2009 5:32 am
ditto lowri

Bwohohoho! 61 Cleric lfp~~

saxmis

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PostedApr 08, 2009 5:51 am
yes, ditto's. You truly are talented. Like I said before easy reading and can visualize everything. Hope the ending doesn't come to soon.

AthenaMarie

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PostedApr 14, 2009 6:52 pm
I demand more! Very Happy Soon!

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