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This is the first part to a small project I've started. The name is currently a place holder until I get a better one... I might stick with this one actually but right now i'm not sure...
EDIT: I've updated this first post with all i have written so far. It's split up into spoilers to break it up.
Spoiler:
The cellar was poorly lit, candles flickered and sputtered in an unearthly cold. The room was miserable, the walls were covered in a dark moss and the floor was cracked and broken. In the centre an slab of jet black obsidian had been set into the floor, it had a revolting, warmth to the touch. Two deep concentric grooves had been carved into it.
Thaddeus' hands trembled faintly as he poured true-silver into the inner groove. The heat from the molten silver had beads of sweat running down his gaunt face. He wiped them away in annoyance. He needed to pay the utmost attention to his task lest he slip and ruin years of planning, the true-silver alone had cost him dearly and he had been forced to kill to cover his activities afterwards.
He continued to pour the silver until the circle had been filled with the molten metal, he stood back and set down the cast iron pot in favour of a crystal decanter full of a dark red liquid. Blood. As he did so the decanter slipped from his grasp. The sweat on his hand had doomed years of work. Thaddeus fumbled to catch it before it shattered. He caught it, inches above the cold floor. Thaddeus breathed a sigh of relief and suddenly in the mirror-like surface of the decanter he caught a glimpse of his visage. It was ghoul-like, his once fine head of hair was matted and greasy, his eyes were bloodshot and dark shadowy circles lay beneath them. Thaddeus looked away, he had come too far to turn back now. Forcing his nerves to calm themselves, he set to pouring the blood into the second circle.
The blood spilled out it into the second groove set inside the now cooling ring of true-silver, he had drained it from a high-born elf.
It hadn't been a one-sided encounter however Thaddeus still bore wounds from the encounter. He paid them little heed, despite stabs of pain; it was of little importance. He must succeed, no matter the cost. The dark blood continued to flow, almost unwillingly, into the groove. With a final tip of the decanter the last of the blood dribbled out into the groove. Placing the decanter to one side, Thaddeus reached over to a leather bag and pulled out a glowing crystal. Wielding it in his left hand he inscribed line after line of angular runes into the floor in between the two circles, the runes glowed obscenely as he drew them. He was half done when he slipped slightly and the clause he was inscribing exploded into sparks, Thaddeus cursed himself for his inattention and set to erasing his mistake, it was costly work. As he finished the final rune they all began glowing brightly, pulsating slightly as though a heart had set them to a rhythm.
Thaddeus stepped back and set the crystal aside. He reached inside a canvas bag and pulled out an ancient leather bound tome. The tome was heavy, unnaturally so. It had been the hardest piece of the puzzle to acquire but he had finally managed to find it. The black leather binding was covered in archaic runes that made a man's eyes hurt to look on them
This prize contained the rituals and instructions for the most complex of daemonic summonings. He opened it and leafed through before coming to an image, a man and yet there was something not right about him. His features were sharp and he stood as though ready to jump into action at the slightest provocation. But it was his eyes that scared Thaddeus the most, they contained a look of cruelty, even through the pages of the book. Cruelty and horror of a kind he had never seen before. How long Thaddeus gazed at the picture for he couldn't remember, his eyes flicked up and found the title above it.
'Nephilim' he whispered to himself, scarcely believing he was so close. After all this time, his duty, no, his obsession would be at an end.
The Nephilim were legendary among daemons and mortals alike. The offspring of the 'sons of God' they were famed for their power and cruel cunning. Rarely was a Nephilim summoned, few mortals ever had the power, the control, the resources and the will to summon and bind a Nephilim to their will. Those who did were inscribed in legend as king makers and the builders of empires.
Thaddeus stood straight, and began to read from the hand written text. The words started as mere sound but as the chant droned on it began to take on another quality, the sound began to echo and repeat and waver despite Thaddeus' clear intonation. The chant drew to a climax as he continued, his pace and volume rising and suddenly there was a piercing wail, and the air was rent and torn apart. Thaddeus' heart stopped for a few seconds, fear gripped his stomach as wind tore at his clothes he almost turned to flee; only his determination to see himself become a near god stopped him. He endured the horrific sound became louder and the wind began to build.
Then silence.
A figure stood within the circle. A Nephilim.
He was almost identical to the figure in the tome and yet subtly different. Thaddeus set the tome down and approached the circle, but was wary not the cross the threshold of the outer circle.
The figure regarded Thaddeus with a mixed look of disdain and amusement. It raised a hand and pushed against the invisible barriers formed by the circles and reinforced by the runic binding, they held. Unless Thaddeus crossed the circle he would be perfectly safe. In theory.
It questioned Thaddeus in a harsh tongue, and Thaddeus responded in kind, his voice not trembling though his instincts still screamed at him to flee.
'What is the bargain?' the Nephilim asked, its tones were soft and mannered
'You know the bargain.' Thaddeus said, matter-of-factly.
'I do. Else I would not have deigned to come.' The Nephilim looked up at Thaddeus 'I have been watching your progress for a long time'
'That's...' Thaddeus started, mouth agape
'Impossible? No, not really. It just takes power. Just like this circle of your isn't 'impossible' to break' he said smugly
With that the Nephilim pushed its hand out, through the circle. Thaddeus gasped and stumbled back but the Nephilim seized his wrist with an iron grip and, pulling him closer, stared into his eyes. As they made eye contact the Nephilim spoke a dark word and Thaddeus suddenly felt his mind transfixed by the pale eyes of the daemon. The Nephilim turned to a foul smoke and flowed eagerly into Thaddeus' lungs; Thaddeus could hear a faint chuckle as he fought for control of his body. He screamed in agony as he fought but was cut short as the Nephilim quickly took control and forced Thaddeus' soul from his mortal flesh.
Thaddeus' soul coalesced, forming a figure near identical to himself in flesh but insubstantial and far paler than he had ever been. Meanwhile his body stumbled back out of the circle, the Nephilim was unused to a physical body. Daemons rarely had the opportunity to posses a mortal.
Thaddeus watched as his body straightened itself out and turned back to face him. His face began to change, it became less gaunt. His hair tied itself into a ponytail something that Thaddeus had noticed was becoming popular among the young nobles of the city. The Nephilim unwound the stinking bandages Thaddeus had neglected to change for so long, revealing not burns and deep slashes but fresh pink skin. The only thing the daemon neglected to change was his eyes. Thaddeus had dark brown eyes but the Nephilim, in his body, had grey eyes.
The Nephilim, now ensconced in a mortal frame, glanced at the runic clauses Thaddeus had drawn.
'My, those are nasty' He said, half playfully, now using a mortal language with his upper class tones. He pointed to one 'Is that one really necessary?'
Thaddeus tried to reply but no words would form, he couldn't even talk. He glared at the daemon. The Nephilim just smirked and without another word turned and walked out of the cellar.
Spoiler:
Alistair glanced around the dingy room, hiding the motion with a long gulp of his drink. The bar was occupied by what some would call, kindly in Alistair's opinion, the dregs of society. He took in a number of details through the smoke and darkness, some of interest; the card game in the corner had two dead men playing, the leaders of two mercenary groups were heatedly 'negotiating' a truce and the gypsy fortune teller in the corner wasn't quite who she, or rather he, appeared to be.
None of these people were who Alistair was looking for. He was watching for a sorcerer. Alistair belonged to the Witch Hunters, an organisation founded by the Council of Noble's to hunt down rogue magic users. They also had a duty to hunt down any non-human creatures but no one had seen anything non-human in the city for over a century.
Alistair set his drink down and looked up at the barman. He was reaching his forties and had seen too much to ask questions of anyone. That suited Alistair perfectly. He cut a slightly shabby if mysterious image; his worn dark green long coat hid a cavalry sabre, a loaded pistol and a number of tricks. Many of Alistair's higher born colleagues used magic and spurned more modern weapons. Coming from the 'unwashed masses' Alistair hadn't the luxury of such an exotic weapon. He made up for it with a sharp mind, and a sharper blade.
Someone entered the bar. Alistair, like the rest of the bar, looked up at the newcomer. He, or she for it was impossible to tell, was swathed in heavy blue robes and a impenetrable veil covered the face. With the figure came the perfumed incense smell common to many practising magic. Everyone looked away almost immediately. Rogue sorcerers tended to attract a lot of trouble even without Witch Hunters tracking them. They were intensely jealous individuals, having to fight for every scrap of ethereal power in a hidden shadowy rivalry; they were also paranoid to a fault. The more Alistair thought about it; the more they resembled the noble families he served, that said, the nobles had rarely tried to kill Alistair. Whereas rogue magicians tended to try and kill everyone in the vicinity when things went wrong, which was more often than Alistair was comfortable with.
The figure walked through the bar, barely paying attention to those surrounding him who were now furiously paying no attention to him whatsoever. The sorcerer strode the a battered door at the back of the bar which lead to the basement. Alistair waited a few minutes and a scrawny man, with scraggly facial hair in urine stained leather followed. Alistair shook his head and took his hat off, placing it on the bar.
'Look after my hat, I'll be back in a few minutes' He dropped a couple of heavy coins onto the bar top which disappeared into the barman’s pocket in a flash.
Alistair stood, walked across the bar to the door. It swung open revealing a dark set of stairs with a dim light casting shadows near the bottom. As stealthily as he could Alistair descended into the cellar. He was a few steps down before he paused, trying to will his hearing to pick up the sounds of their conversation. With a sudden crack a wooden slat gave way and he tumbled downward, he landed in a heap on the floor.
The robed figure and the scrawny man paused their talking as they gazed at Alistair. Alistair hauled himself up and drew his sabre.
'In the name of the Council, you are under arrest for crimes against the city!' He shouted, well aware of his fumbled entrance.
The scrawny man had barely time to react as the robed figure pressed a hand to the smaller man's forehead and spoke quickly in an archaic tongue.
Alistair didn't bother with more words, he lurched forwards swinging at the robed man.
The scrawny man collapsed and began convulsing while the sorcerer turned and laughed in a deep throaty voice, as Alistair swung at him. His wards turned aside the first hit and the second. The third strike never came as Alistair was tackled by the sorcerer's contact who suddenly possessed pitch black eyes and an inhuman strength. He had been possessed. The sorcerer had taken a huge risk in betting that the daemon he had summoned would possess this man rather than manifest itself and simply slaughter whoever it could.
Alistair's sabre clattered from his hand and the sorcerer took the opportunity that presented itself and fled up the stairs. Alistair was left to wrestle with the possessed man.
Alistair punched the daemon in the face with his free hand, dazing it for a second which was long enough to kick the thing from on top of him. Alistair scrambled to his feet and ran for his sword. As he did the daemon picked itself up and as Alistair scooped his sword up and turned around a cruel, organic looking blade appeared in the daemon's hand.
'Are you ready?' The daemon asked in a harsh guttural voice incongruous to the scrawny man's size despite the changes starting to take place. He was growing, his muscles bulging and swelling.
'What?' Alistair said, caught off-guard by the question
'For our duel mortal, are you ready' it questioned again
'Our duel?'
'You call us 'Sword Masters' but in our tongue we are the llafnau anrhydedd; and we must test ourselves by trial of the blade' the daemon said, flourishing it's blade with relish
'Of course, a duel...' Alistair said thinking frantically 'remind me of the rules to this duel'
'We may only use the blade in our hand, no more, no less' the daemon said, obviously getting impatient 'It is honourable combat, he who is victor shall claim the spoils of his victory'
Now Alistair's stomach sank, was in big trouble. A Sword Master was a Class seven daemon that most adept sorcerers could summon, they spent every unoccupied second in their timeless plane practising their art of the blade. To them honour was paramount and any being incapable of defending itself against them was less than nothing. They were merciless, indefatigable and incredibly skilled they claimed the souls of those they killed as the spoils of their victory. Luckily for Alistair they were also bound by their code of honour, something Alistair had always thought of as particularly stupid.
'I tire of this waiting mortal, defend yourself!' and with that the daemon rushed to attack Alistair.
Alistair blocked the rush and danced backwards, giving up ground while, deflecting more disembowelling blows. As his back reached the wall of the wine cellar he ducked and rolled forwards putting him just behind the daemon. Still crouching he pulled a punch dagger from his boot and jammed it into the daemon's back before it could turn and continue the fight. The daemon screamed but didn't slow and didn't stop swinging.
'You cheat human!' The daemon shouted 'This is an honour duel!'
'I have no idea what you're talking about' Alistair replied, his tone innocent 'Did you catch yourself on something? Do you want to halt the duel?'
'I will gut you human!' The daemon re-doubled his attack, the black blade blurring as it swung again and again at Alistair. Alistair's own blade was a flashing steel blur but he was forced back even faster this time and all too quickly he found himself with his back pressed against the opposite end of the cellar wall.
'Well, this was lovely but I really do have to be off.' He said, in a swift movement Alistair threw his sabre at the daemon as it closed in on him. The daemon swept his blade up and deflected the sabre with ease just in time for Alistair's true-silver pistol ball to slam into its face and tear out the back of its skull. Daemon screamed as his host's flesh began to bubble, the true-silver was disrupting the daemon's essence. As the scream got louder the flesh began to melt from his purloined bones until the daemon, host and all, exploded in a shower of gore covering Alistair in blood and bone. It would be pissed, Alistair thought, it was more than likely it would hold a grudge against him until either one of them died for good. He didn't particularly care however, it was unlikely he'd ever see it again.
Alistair collected his sabre and made his way to the bar. The patrons were somewhat shocked when Alistair walked, covered in blood, out from the basement. They had heard the noise, seen the rogue rush out of the bar and assumed both he and the scrawny man were as good as dead. Alistair paid them little heed and made his way over to the bar beckoning to the barman.
'There's a mess in the basement, gather it up, burn it and throw the ashes in the river. No one will come looking for him' The barman nodded frantically as Alistair picked his hat up, placed it on his head and walked out of the bar everyone now frantically forgetting anything had ever happened in the bar. The rogue was long gone by now but at least he had survived his own trap.
Spoiler:
Alistair strode up the paved street to one of the Witch Hunter's Grey Quarter safe houses, the building was tall, narrow and dilapidated on the outside. It was one of several in the Grey Quarter, though this one was the furthest from sight and mind of Alistair's superiors. Standing far above the surrounding buildings by virtue of a large bell tower, the safe house was located in one of the parts of the Grey Quarter that was almost totally abandoned, the streets were more or less totally lawless in this part of the Grey Quarter. As Alistair approached he noticed the semaphore arms working furiously as they sent out a message to the Witch Hunter's chapter house in the Royal Quarter.
The city of Auro was divided into several sections, or quarters as they had been originally named though now there were 7 quarters. The Royal Quarter held most of the cities nobility and the chambers of the city council, it had been inexorably named the Gold Quarter by those who weren't allowed to live within its boundaries and by some of those who were. The Administrative Quarter, nicknamed the Paper Quarter held the city's government buildings, everything from taxes to conscription notices were written, read and signed there.
The Merchant Quarter was the hub of trade in Auro, caravans from across the known lands came to trade in Auro, residences had been built to accommodate those who planned to stay indefinitely. The Artisan's Quarter, or the Glass Quarter was the smallest of all the Quarters but what it lacked in size it made up for in talent. Dozens of artisans had formed guilds, working night and day to perfect their craft and to sell their wares to a pretty merchant's daughter or a powerful noble of the Houses.
The Red Quarter had been unimaginatively named by its occupiers for the huge meat warehouses and numerous butchers in its boundaries. Everyday hundreds of beasts were slaughtered to feed the growing population of the city. The Foundry Quarter, much like the Red Quarter, had also been unimaginatively named. Within the Foundry Quarter the fires of the smelters never dimmed and the chimneys of the foundries perpetually pumped thick black smoke into the air.
The last part of the city was the largest. The Grey Quarter. A huge semi-slum of the poor and the poorer. It was notorious for its taverns, bars and established black market. It was said that though you could buy anything regardless of price in the Grey Quarter of Auro as long as it could be stolen by one of the many gangs of thieves. The Grey Quarter was home to most of the population of the city, it served as conscription ground for the army, a source of cheap employment for the foundries and a nightmare infested hell hole for those mothers and fathers wanting to scare their children into good behaviour all at the same time. Alistair had grown up in the Grey Quarter.
The semaphore arms stopped moving as Alistair reached the door, it was unlocked. When they had first opened the safe house he had impressed upon the local gangs the importance of leaving the building totally untouched. In return he wouldn't interfere with their black market trade. The deal had suited Alistair perfectly, his colleague used the gangs to acquire materials for his projects. The black market allowed him to get them quickly and, in the case of some items, quietly. The only other Witch Hunters in the Grey Quarter wouldn't even know how to begin ferreting out the gangs, they were too deeply entrenched for an outsider to manage it.
That should be Nikolai now Alistair thought to himself as he pushed the door open and strode into the building and was greeted by the faint smell of burnt flesh.
'Nikolai!' Alistair shouted 'Nikolai where are you, you crazy son of a dog?' he sniffed trying to find out where the smell was coming from
The inside of the building was largely empty, but it was clean, sturdy and Alistair had made sure it was fireproof. Alistair followed his nose into a side chamber, a dozen unfinished or unworkable projects sat on desks, floors or adorned walls. This was Nikolai's territory and Alistair made very sure not to touch absolutely anything. His fingers still twinged at the last time he had stumbled into these rooms looking for Nikolai.
'Nikolai' Alistair shouted again 'Not the lab, please not the lab' he muttered fervently under his breath.
Alistair spotted a piece of writing paper on Nikolai's more frequented writing spots.
To Alistair,
Hope all is well.
If you need me I am in the Laboratory.
-Nikolai
Alistair sighed, and muttered a few choice curse words. The Nikolai's Laboratory was a veritable jungle of glassware, alchemical mixes, miniature foundries and the worst part of Nikolai's more recent research. His tamed lightning bolts. Nikolai had tried to explain it to Alistair several times but all Alistair could understand was which bits of him would hurt if he tried to touch the true-silver wires again.
Alistair placed the note back on the table and picked his way across the room to the solid oaken and rosewood door that led to the basement, he pulled it open without difficulty and stepped inside. Unlike the wine cellar of the dingy bar he had been in Nikolai's Laboratory was well lit and almost airy, though the smell of burnt flesh intensified as he descended the steps.
The steps curved slightly to the right and Alistair quickly found himself staring at an almost cavernous space that was Nikolai's Laboratory.
Early on in their occupation of the safe house Nikolai had spent long nights and days in the then basement with various friends of power, masons and stone smiths. What had occurred was a massive underground cavern, complete with oaken supports to hold up what must be most of the surrounding area. The cavern was a cornucopia of oddities and strange wonders. It terrified Alistair, every time he came down to the lab he was constantly on edge. Not six months ago Nikolai had grown a cow four times the size of a man, which had then been possessed by the imps, each speeding its growth spurt. The cow had gotten out of hand before the night was over. Alistair had managed to destroy it but the incident had left him understandably wary of Nikolai's 'research projects' and painfully aware of why he wasn't in the Gold Quarter performing this research.
Alistair began walking down a long aisle, it had only been there recently. Long, deep vats of stinking acidic fluid flanked him, the smell brought tears to his eyes. He pinched his nose and inspected the vats. Rubber coated true-silver wires were dipped into the vats at both ends they sparked and glowed with energy, Alistair straightened up quickly and began to follow the wires to what must be the epicentre of a carefully out of control experiment. As he neared the centre he heard two voices hurriedly debating.
Alistair cleared the last vat to find Nikolai in a thick, leathery orange garment and what appeared to be gloves made of stone. The other voice belonged to a similar, albeit shorter and slightly smoking, figure. Stood next to them was a huge bulb of glass with a small loop of true-silver stretched painfully thin. Both were so engrossed in their debate neither noticed Alistair until he stood right next to them.
'Ah Alistair my friend!' Nikolai shouted as he turned, his booming voice muffled by the hood but still managing to bounce off the stone walls. Nikolai seized him by both shoulders, and kissed his cheeks 'You are just in time for History!' Nikolai beamed, the capital letter clearly audible in his voice. Alistair smelled the presence of Nikolai's homeland spirit on his breath, Alistair swore the giant eccentric used it as mouthwash. The slightly singed and orange swathed apprentice next to Nikolai nodded vigorously as his master began to extol the virtues of his latest bid for oblivion disguised as alchemical progress.
Spoiler:
Nikolai dropped Alistair and turned back to his latest invention. Alistair recovered and looked closely at the glass bulb. The wires that were dipped in a dozen vats of chemicals snaked towards the bulb and plugged directly into a steel cap at the base of the bulb. Alistair's curiosity was beginning to overpower his sense of self-preservation, he stepped forward and looked at the intricate machinery to the side where Nikolai and his new apprentice were now working like daemons to fix whatever had been broken in their earlier attempts.
'So, Nikolai. What is this actually supposed to do' Alistair asked with a trace of nervousness.
Nikolai removed his hood 'We remove the resistance blocks stopping Power and the filament in the bulb will begin to glow bright enough to light the entire chamber on its own' Nikolai said not looking up, his attention focussed on the instruments ahead of him
'Is that all?' Alistair asked, frowning slightly 'We can do that already with magic'
'Alistair' Nikolai turned to face him 'I would have thought someone with your heritage would know the importance of being able to do without magic. You wouldn't be here had we not received the recipe for gunpowder from the Desert Empires. This invention will allow everyone to light their homes'
'Oh I do understand, don't you worry about that' Alistair said, tapping his pistol 'What I don't understand is why you're working on this...' he stopped struggling to name the complex network of wires and glass.
'I call her Power' Nikolai said proudly, gesturing to the wires
'Why you're working on this Power, when everyone else is working on steam engines. I heard there's a guy up in the Gold Quarter who is planning to construct a water works for the entire city using steam power. Imagine that, running water for the entire city.'
'Ah but they have finished that line of research. I am the vanguard of the age of Power. With this invention nothing will be beyond our grasp! It has limitless applications and possibilities' Nikolai finished, his eyes gleaming with his vision of the future and his arms spread wide as though trying to embrace it.
'From a... a light bulb?' Alistair said, still unable to grasp it.
'From a light bulb my friend. From a light bulb.' Nikolai smiled.
Just then his apprentice turned to Nikolai.
'We're... we're ready'
'Are you sure?' Nikolai asked
'Positive, I’ve triple checked everything' the apprentice gestured to the bank of instruments 'If something goes wrong we'll know before it gets... out of hand' he rubbed his blacked face through his heavy gauntlet.
'Excellent Elijah!' Nikolai boomed 'Come Alistair, it's time for our final experiment'
He donned his hood and almost as an after thought he fished out a pair of dark tinted goggles from somewhere in his heavy leather coverings and handed them to Alistair.
'It will be very bright my friend' he said, despite Nikolai's hood Alistair got the impression his grin now stretched from ear to ear.
Alistair hurriedly put the goggles on, the tint darkened his vision, in the already dim chamber Alistair vision became all but cut off. But that, Alistair reasoned, would hopefully be corrected with Nikolai's 'light-bulb'. Nikolai turned to Elijah, who was manning the instrument bank, and gave him a nervous thumbs up. At least Alistair guessed that's what it was, the gauntlet made it hard to tell. Nikolai grasped a lever set next to the bank of instruments and pulled firmly, there was a brief paused before the impossibly thin filament in the bulb began to glow, dimly at first but brighter and brighter after that.
'It's working!' Elijah yelled, turning away to watch the bulb
'Excellent, Elijah keep focused on the measurements we need to learn as much as possible from this'
'Yes sir' He turned back, buoyed up by their success
'See my friend' Nikolai said to Alistair as the bulb grew even brighter 'This is the future'
'I see it Nikolai' Alistair said, the bulb was intensely bright now and even through the dark tinted goggles his eyes began to ache. For several long minutes they just watched the bulb as it grew slightly brighter and then stopped intensifying. It hung like a tiny star for a few moments before Elijah interrupted.
'Um sir?' he said
'Yes? What is it?'
'I think we should turn it off.' He said, his voice beginning to rise in a slight panic
'What? Why?' Nikolai said, slightly annoyed at having to stop his experiment before he wanted to
'Wel-' Alistair never learned why, as the glass bulb exploded in that same second sending razor sharp shards of glass across the chamber. Alistair's coat protected him from most of the damage, its long turned up collar shielding his face. Nikolai had likewise been protected by his own thick garments. As they checked themselves for injury Elijah's absence became obvious, they glanced around and found his frame a few yards or so from where he had been stood. Though they had escaped injury Elijah hadn't been as lucky. The steel cap at the base of the bulb had shot off at a remarkable speed, so fast Alistair hadn't even seen it move. It has ricocheted off of the front of Elijah's thick leather hood and came to a rest half a dozen yards behind them.
Nikolai pulled the hood off and they were greeted by a gush of blood and bone. Nikolai probed his skull, feeling for fractures or cracks.
'His skull's intact' He quickly checked for a pulse and found one 'He's alive but unconscious'
'Well that's a blessing' Alistair had always hated head wounds, his time in the army had taught a small amount about injuries and he had hated head wounds the most. Lots of blood and it's near impossible to tell whether someone is okay or not. A man could stand up straight after taking a hit that would dent steel sheet and then days later fall over dead as a stone. Luckily for Elijah it looked as though he'd simply be carried away from this encounter with a headache and a badly broken nose.
Nikolai began to pick Elijah up,careful to keep his damaged head from touching anything.
'Aren't you going to heal him?' Alistair asked, slightly confused. Nikolai, as a member of a minor Noble family from the far Northlands, was trained in the use of magic. Magic, amongst other things could be used to heal others as well as cause horrific wounds.
'Well... yes' Nikolai said, looking slightly uncomfortable
'What do you mean by that?' Alistair asked suspiciously 'You aren't going to experiment on him or something?' horror edging his voice.
'Of course not, he's still alive for one' Nikolai said slightly grudgingly
'Then what?'
'I have several well tested potions that will fix him up without a hitch' Nikolai said quickly
'Potions? What? Why not use your magic?' Alistair said, his confusion still evident
Nikolai was silent for a few uncomfortable seconds, looking left and right, up and down and shifting in place slightly.
'I cannot...' Nikolai admitted finally.
'You can't use your magic to heal?' Alistair asked, slightly incredulous. Nobles, even those as minor as Nikolai, weren't known for admitting they couldn't do things.
'Nyet. It's an odd quirk but I have never been able to even get a grip on this basics' Nikolai said, still uncomfortable discussing his shortcommings.
'It's one of the reasons I am an inventor, I cannot help people like most sorcerers but with my inventions I can further mankind'
There was a brief moment as Alistair began to recall all the moments where he had almost died and thought nothing of it due to Nikolai's presence and, Alistair had thought at the time, healing abilities. There were a lot.
'So, that time I almost died fighting that rogue sorcerer in the Red quarter and I almost got skewered on the rogue's enchanted spear?'
'You probably would have died yes'
'You didn't feel like telling me at any point?'
'Well it would just make you nervous'
'No Nikolai.' Alistair said, anger edging his voice 'It would have made me dead is what it would have made me'
'Exactly, nervous and then dead' Nikolai said shrugging his shoulders. Elijah flopped limply in the giant's arms and groaned.
'We should get Elijah upstairs' Nikolai said, deciding the conversation was over and walking to the stairs.
'I can't believe you didn't tell me' Alistair said, the anger gone but some shock present. Nikolai just chuckled.
Thanks for any C&C
This message was edited 43 times. Last update was at 2013/05/18 13:14:49
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"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
It's not in Fantasy or 40k. It's set in a pre-steam gunpowder era. I'm mainly looking for criticism on this particular bit right now, if you'd like to know more I can PM you some more details... Thanks for your comments.
EDIT: Thanks to Avatar for his help.
This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2012/06/07 08:25:31
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
It is very good man. But, there is always a but, I did not like the easy way the demon got a host, after Thaddeus went in so much trouble to make sure that the demon would not escape. Unless I missed something somewhere...
Bobakos wrote:It is very good man. But, there is always a but, I did not like the easy way the demon got a host, after Thaddeus went in so much trouble to make sure that the demon would not escape. Unless I missed something somewhere...
I probably explained it poorly or didn't make it very clear... Nephilim are the offspring of a 'son of God'. In this setting they are meant to be the most powerful daemon. Thaddeus protected himself against most of it's attacks but a Nephilim is a cunning foe, and when he made eye contact with him briefly the Nephilim was able to compel Thaddeus for a brief moment to cross the threshold of the circle stopping him. After he had crossed the threshold Thaddeus was easily overwhelmed and possessed, forcing his soul out where it would dissipate in time... I may need to re-write it in order for that to come across better...
EDIT: Added a few bits, re-read and see if that helps?
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2012/06/07 11:19:20
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
Bobakos wrote:Its better, but still I would have liked something a bit more...I cant really describe it...Regardless its far better and more understood
Well I'm trying to keep it a touch mysterious in terms of the story while explaining what I can...
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
I think the Idea is very cool and promising, really like the sound of the Lore you've hinted at. I definitely think it's worth sticking with. I really like reading original fantasy fiction as i have been working on my own for some time.
I think your craft possibly needs a little work. Alot of interesting details are stated a little plainly. Although alot of amateurs go a bit crazy with the old adjectives and poncy words so i appreciate Cormac Mccarthy style Plain english.
'the true silver alone had cost him dearly and he had been forced to kill several people to cover his activities afterwards.'
Personally i would like to know a little more, or at least it written in a less straightforward manner.
There are good lines a plenty though. This is my favourite;
'Nephilim' he whispered to himself, scarcely believing he was so close.'
Hope you appreciate some considered C&C As personally i cant wait for more!
This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2012/06/08 22:58:41
Mary Sue wrote: Perkustin is even more awesome than me!
I would review it, but then I'd have to rewrite it entirely to be worth reading.
Prestor Jon wrote: Because children don't have any legal rights until they're adults. A minor is the responsiblity of the parent and has no legal rights except through his/her legal guardian or parent.
Perkustin wrote:I think the Idea is very cool and promising, really like the sound of the Lore you've hinted at. I definitely think it's worth sticking with. I really like reading original fantasy fiction as i have been working on my own for some time. Hope you appreciate some considered C&C As personally i cant wait for more!
Thanks, I have updated the OP with a bit more elaboration concerning the acquisition of the true silver. I'm gonna re-write a few bits so it's a touch more descriptive as you said. Thanks again.
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2012/12/07 01:27:24
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
Alistair glanced around the dingy room, hiding the motion with a long gulp of his drink. The bar was occupied by what some would call, kindly in Alistair's opinion, the dregs of society. He took in a number of details through the smoke and darkness, some of interest; the card game in the corner had two dead men playing, the leaders of two mercenary groups were heatedly 'negotiating' a truce and the gypsy fortune teller in the corner wasn't quite who she, or rather he, appeared to be.
None of these people were who Alistair was looking for. He was watching for a sorcerer. Alistair belonged to the Witch Hunters, an organisation founded by the Council of Noble's to hunt down rogue magic users. They also had a duty to hunt down any non-human creatures but no one had seen anything non-human in the city for over a century.
Alistair set his drink down and looked up at the barman. He was reaching his forties and had seen too much to ask questions of anyone. That suited Alistair perfectly. He cut a slightly shabby if mysterious image; his worn dark green long coat hid a cavalry sabre, a loaded pistol and a number of tricks. Many of Alistair's higher born colleagues used magic and spurned more modern weapons. Coming from the 'unwashed masses' Alistair hadn't the luxury of such an exotic weapon. He made up for it with a sharp mind, and a sharper blade.
Someone entered the bar. Alistair, like the rest of the bar, looked up at the newcomer. He, or she for it was impossible to tell, was swathed in heavy blue robes and a impenetrable veil covered the face. With the figure came the perfumed incense smell common to many practising magic. Everyone looked away almost immediately. Rogue sorcerers tended to attract a lot of trouble even without Witch Hunters tracking them. They were intensely jealous individuals, having to fight for every scrap of ethereal power in a hidden shadowy rivalry; they were also paranoid to a fault. The more Alistair thought about it; the more they resembled the noble families he served, that said, the nobles had rarely tried to kill Alistair. Whereas rogue magicians tended to try and kill everyone in the vicinity when things went wrong, which was more often than Alistair was comfortable with.
The figure walked through the bar, barely paying attention to those surrounding him who were now furiously paying no attention to him whatsoever. The sorcerer strode the a battered door at the back of the bar which lead to the basement. Alistair waited a few minutes and a scrawny man, with scraggly facial hair in urine stained leather followed. Alistair shook his head and took his hat off, placing it on the bar.
'Look after my hat, I'll be back in a few minutes' He dropped a couple of heavy coins onto the bar top which disappeared into the barman’s pocket in a flash.
Alistair stood, walked across the bar to the door. It swung open revealing a dark set of stairs with a dim light casting shadows near the bottom. As stealthily as he could Alistair descended into the cellar. He was a few steps down before he paused, trying to will his hearing to pick up the sounds of their conversation. With a sudden crack a wooden slat gave way and he tumbled downward, he landed in a heap on the floor.
The robed figure and the scrawny man paused their talking as they gazed at Alistair. Alistair hauled himself up and drew his sabre.
'In the name of the Council, you are under arrest for crimes against the city!' He shouted, well aware of his fumbled entrance.
The scrawny man had barely time to react as the robed figure pressed a hand to the smaller man's forehead and spoke quickly in an archaic tongue.
Alistair didn't bother with more words, he lurched forwards swinging at the robed man.
The scrawny man collapsed and began convulsing while the sorcerer turned and laughed in a deep throaty voice, as Alistair swung at him. His wards turned aside the first hit and the second. The third strike never came as Alistair was tackled by the sorcerer's contact who suddenly possessed pitch black eyes and an inhuman strength. He had been possessed. The sorcerer had taken a huge risk in betting that the daemon he had summoned would possess this man rather than manifest itself and simply slaughter whoever it could.
Alistair's sabre clattered from his hand and the sorcerer took the opportunity that presented itself and fled up the stairs. Alistair was left to wrestle with the possessed man.
Alistair punched the daemon in the face with his free hand, dazing it for a second which was long enough to kick the thing from on top of him. Alistair scrambled to his feet and ran for his sword. As he did the daemon picked itself up and as Alistair scooped his sword up and turned around a cruel, organic looking blade appeared in the daemon's hand.
'Are you ready?' The daemon asked in a harsh guttural voice incongruous to the scrawny man's size despite the changes starting to take place. He was growing, his muscles bulging and swelling.
'What?' Alistair said, caught off-guard by the question
'For our duel mortal, are you ready' it questioned again
'Our duel?'
'You call us 'Sword Masters' but in our tongue we are the llafnau anrhydedd; and we must test ourselves by trial of the blade' the daemon said, flourishing it's blade with relish
'Of course, a duel...' Alistair said thinking frantically 'remind me of the rules to this duel'
'We may only use the blade in our hand, no more, no less' the daemon said, obviously getting impatient 'It is honourable combat, he who is victor shall claim the spoils of his victory'
Now Alistair's stomach sank, was in big trouble. A Sword Master was a Class seven daemon that most adept sorcerers could summon, they spent every unoccupied second in their timeless plane practising their art of the blade. To them honour was paramount and any being incapable of defending itself against them was less than nothing. They were merciless, indefatigable and incredibly skilled they claimed the souls of those they killed as the spoils of their victory. Luckily for Alistair they were also bound by their code of honour, something Alistair had always thought of as particularly stupid.
'I tire of this waiting mortal, defend yourself!' and with that the daemon rushed to attack Alistair.
Alistair blocked the rush and danced backwards, giving up ground while, deflecting more disembowelling blows. As his back reached the wall of the wine cellar he ducked and rolled forwards putting him just behind the daemon. Still crouching he pulled a punch dagger from his boot and jammed it into the daemon's back before it could turn and continue the fight. The daemon screamed but didn't slow and didn't stop swinging.
'You cheat human!' The daemon shouted 'This is an honour duel!'
'I have no idea what you're talking about' Alistair replied, his tone innocent 'Did you catch yourself on something? Do you want to halt the duel?'
'I will gut you human!' The daemon re-doubled his attack, the black blade blurring as it swung again and again at Alistair. Alistair's own blade was a flashing steel blur but he was forced back even faster this time and all too quickly he found himself with his back pressed against the opposite end of the cellar wall.
'Well, this was lovely but I really do have to be off.' He said, in a swift movement Alistair threw his sabre at the daemon as it closed in on him. The daemon swept his blade up and deflected the sabre with ease just in time for Alistair's true silver pistol ball to slam into its face and tear out the back of its skull. Daemon screamed as his host's flesh began to bubble, the true silver was disrupting the daemon's essence. As the scream got louder the flesh began to melt from his purloined bones until the daemon, host and all, exploded in a shower of gore covering Alistair in blood and bone. It would be pissed, Alistair thought, it was more than likely it would hold a grudge against him until either one of them died for good. He didn't particularly care however, it was unlikely he'd ever see it again.
Alistair collected his sabre and made his way to the bar. The patrons were somewhat shocked when Alistair walked, covered in blood, out from the basement. They had heard the noise, seen the rogue rush out of the bar and assumed both he and the scrawny man were as good as dead. Alistair paid them little heed and made his way over to the bar beckoning to the barman.
'There's a mess in the basement, gather it up, burn it and throw the ashes in the river. No one will come looking for him' The barman nodded frantically as Alistair picked his hat up, placed it on his head and walked out of the bar everyone now frantically forgetting anything had ever happened in the bar. The rogue was long gone by now but at least he had survived his own trap.
This is all I'll be posting for a bit so please C&C, thanks in advance for your comments. Please enjoy.
This message was edited 16 times. Last update was at 2012/07/27 03:47:57
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
It is very very very good man! I really liked it and enjoyed the action. He did kill the demon a little bit too fast though, no? But I liked the way hahahahaha
Bobakos wrote:It is very very very good man! I really liked it and enjoyed the action. He did kill the demon a little bit too fast though, no? But I liked the way hahahahaha
It reminded me of this:
I may lengthen in but I feel it fits with his style...
Still it may need a bit more bulk...
We'll see how it goes.
Thanks for your comments.
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
Mandorallen turned back toward the insolently sneering baron. 'My Lord,' The great knight said distantly, 'I find thy face apelike and thy form misshapen. Thy beard, moreover, is an offence against decency, resembling more closely the scabrous fur which doth decorate the hinder portion of a mongrel dog than a proper adornment for a human face. Is it possibly that thy mother, seized by some wild lechery, did dally at some time past with a randy goat?' - Mimbrate Knight Protector Mandorallen.
Excerpt from "Seeress of Kell", Book Five of The Malloreon series by David Eddings.
"You need not fear us, unless you are a dark heart, a vile one who preys on the innocent; I promise, you can’t hide forever in the empty darkness, for we will hunt you down like the animals you are, and pull you into the very bowels of hell." Iron - Within Temptation
Though now you mention it that might be an interesting idea...
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
I lengthened the fight scene, hopefully it shows Alistair's character off a bit better.
The first scene has also been updated, the possession is much better I feel and there's hopefully a better sense of both Thaddeus and the nature of the Nephilim.
As always please point out any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. Something always gets through.
This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2012/06/13 00:05:17
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
Bobakos wrote:Love it! And you kept the sword vs pistol thingie I would not have liked it if you changed that!!!
Looking forward for more m8 Keep it up!
I felt it reflected well on him Thanks for your comments, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
This is a touch shorter than both of the previous pieces, it contains some information concerning the setting and two new characters for your enjoyment. Aren't I generous?
Alistair strode up the paved street to one of the Witch Hunter's Grey Quarter safe houses, the building was tall, narrow and dilapidated on the outside. It was one of several in the Grey Quarter, though this one was the furthest from sight and mind of Alistair's superiors. Standing far above the surrounding buildings by virtue of a large bell tower, the safe house was located in one of the parts of the Grey Quarter that was almost totally abandoned, the streets were more or less totally lawless in this part of the Grey Quarter. As Alistair approached he noticed the semaphore arms working furiously as they sent out a message to the Witch Hunter's chapter house in the Royal Quarter.
The city of Auro was divided into several sections, or quarters as they had been originally named though now there were 7 quarters. The Royal Quarter held most of the cities nobility and the chambers of the city council, it had been inexorably named the Gold Quarter by those who weren't allowed to live within its boundaries and by some of those who were. The Administrative Quarter, nicknamed the Paper Quarter held the city's government buildings, everything from taxes to conscription notices were written, read and signed there.
The Merchant Quarter was the hub of trade in Auro, caravans from across the known lands came to trade in Auro, residences had been built to accommodate those who planned to stay indefinitely. The Artisan's Quarter, or the Glass Quarter was the smallest of all the Quarters but what it lacked in size it made up for in talent. Dozens of artisans had formed guilds, working night and day to perfect their craft and to sell their wares to a pretty merchant's daughter or a powerful noble of the Houses.
The Red Quarter had been unimaginatively named by its occupiers for the huge meat warehouses and numerous butchers in its boundaries. Everyday hundreds of beasts were slaughtered to feed the growing population of the city. The Foundry Quarter, much like the Red Quarter, had also been unimaginatively named. Within the Foundry Quarter the fires of the smelters never dimmed and the chimneys of the foundries perpetually pumped thick black smoke into the air.
The last part of the city was the largest. The Grey Quarter. A huge semi-slum of the poor and the poorer. It was notorious for its taverns, bars and established black market. It was said that though you could buy anything regardless of price in the Grey Quarter of Auro as long as it could be stolen by one of the many gangs of thieves. The Grey Quarter was home to most of the population of the city, it served as conscription ground for the army, a source of cheap employment for the foundries and a nightmare infested hell hole for those mothers and fathers wanting to scare their children into good behaviour all at the same time. Alistair had grown up in the Grey Quarter.
The semaphore arms stopped moving as Alistair reached the door, it was unlocked. When they had first opened the safe house he had impressed upon the local gangs the importance of leaving the building totally untouched. In return he wouldn't interfere with their black market trade. The deal had suited Alistair perfectly, his colleague used the gangs to acquire materials for his projects. The black market allowed him to get them quickly and, in the case of some items, quietly. The only other Witch Hunters in the Grey Quarter wouldn't even know how to begin ferreting out the gangs, they were too deeply entrenched for an outsider to manage it.
That should be Nikolai now Alistair thought to himself as he pushed the door open and strode into the building and was greeted by the faint smell of burnt flesh.
'Nikolai!' Alistair shouted 'Nikolai where are you, you crazy son of a dog?' he sniffed trying to find out where the smell was coming from
The inside of the building was largely empty, but it was clean, sturdy and Alistair had made sure it was fireproof. Alistair followed his nose into a side chamber, a dozen unfinished or unworkable projects sat on desks, floors or adorned walls. This was Nikolai's territory and Alistair made very sure not to touch absolutely anything. His fingers still twinged at the last time he had stumbled into these rooms looking for Nikolai.
'Nikolai' Alistair shouted again 'Not the lab, please not the lab' he muttered fervently under his breath.
Alistair spotted a piece of writing paper on Nikolai's more frequented writing spots.
To Alistair, Hope all is well. If you need me I am in the Laboratory. -Nikolai
Alistair sighed, and muttered a few choice curse words. The Nikolai's Laboratory was a veritable jungle of glassware, alchemical mixes, miniature foundries and the worst part of Nikolai's more recent research. His tamed lightning bolts. Nikolai had tried to explain it to Alistair several times but all Alistair could understand was which bits of him would hurt if he tried to touch the true silver wires again.
Alistair placed the note back on the table and picked his way across the room to the solid oaken and rosewood door that led to the basement, he pulled it open without difficulty and stepped inside. Unlike the wine cellar of the dingy bar he had been in Nikolai's Laboratory was well lit and almost airy, though the smell of burnt flesh intensified as he descended the steps.
The steps curved slightly to the right and Alistair quickly found himself staring at an almost cavernous space that was Nikolai's Laboratory.
Early on in their occupation of the safe house Nikolai had spent long nights and days in the then basement with various friends of power, masons and stone smiths. What had occurred was a massive underground cavern, complete with oaken supports to hold up what must be most of the surrounding area. The cavern was a cornucopia of oddities and strange wonders. It terrified Alistair, every time he came down to the lab he was constantly on edge. Not six months ago Nikolai had grown a cow four times the size of a man, which had then been possessed by the imps, each speeding its growth spurt. The cow had gotten out of hand before the night was over. Alistair had managed to destroy it but the incident had left him understandably wary of Nikolai's 'research projects' and painfully aware of why he wasn't in the Gold Quarter performing this research.
Alistair began walking down a long aisle, it had only been there recently. Long, deep vats of stinking acidic fluid flanked him, the smell brought tears to his eyes. He pinched his nose and inspected the vats. Rubber coated true silver wires were dipped into the vats at both ends they sparked and glowed with energy, Alistair straightened up quickly and began to follow the wires to what must be the epicentre of a carefully out of control experiment. As he neared the centre he heard two voices hurriedly debating.
Alistair cleared the last vat to find Nikolai in a thick, leathery orange garment and what appeared to be gloves made of stone. The other voice belonged to a similar, albeit shorter and slightly smoking, figure. Stood next to them was a huge bulb of glass with a small loop of true silver stretched painfully thin. Both were so engrossed in their debate neither noticed Alistair until he stood right next to them.
'Ah Alistair my friend!' Nikolai shouted as he turned, his booming voice muffled by the hood but still managing to bounce off the stone walls. Nikolai seized him by both shoulders, and kissed his cheeks 'You are just in time for History!' Nikolai beamed, the capital letter clearly audible in his voice. Alistair smelled the presence of Nikolai's homeland spirit on his breath, Alistair swore the giant eccentric used it as mouthwash. The slightly singed and orange swathed apprentice next to Nikolai nodded vigorously as his master began to extol the virtues of his latest bid for oblivion disguised as alchemical progress.
Please C&C, thank you in advance for all comments.
This message was edited 15 times. Last update was at 2012/09/02 04:42:35
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
Thanks for that.
No matter how many times I check it myself something always gets through.
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
Please explain to me how the below phrase makes you generous....
Purplefood wrote:This is a touch shorter than both of the previous pieces
Erm I dont have something, its a nice intermediate piece away from the action, resting the reader and preparing him for more extremities!
Eagerly waiting/wanting more!!!
You got a new character didn't you? That's like Christmas where I come from...
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
Purplefood wrote:and two new characters for your enjoyment.
Well the apprentice kinda counts...
That's like Christmas and your Birthday where I come from!
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
You get your money back when you destroy the one ring...
I thought the contract was clear...
Dakka Bingo! By Ouze "You are the best at flying things"-Kanluwen
"Further proof that Purple is a fething brilliant super villain " -KingCracker
"Purp.. Im pretty sure I have a gun than can reach you...."-Nicorex
"That's not really an apocalypse. That's just Europe."-Grakmar
"almost as good as winning free cake at the tea drinking contest for an Englishman." -Reds8n
Seal up your lips and give no words but mum.
Equip, Reload. Do violence.
Watch for Gerry.
" -KingCracker
Keep it up!
