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The Future Isn't Friendly |
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Samantha is 25 years old, and she has spent most of her youth living on the fringe of society. She makes all her money at the race track gambling on horses, but in a game of chance it's hard to keep a steady profit. When she meets a boy who can see the future, things get a lot better for her, but whenever someone starts to do really good, others take notice, and sometimes they aren't too happy about it...
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On your mark! Get set! Go!
The gun fired, signalling the start of the race. The horses dashed out of their pens and darted around the track.
"Come on number seven!" A young girl shouted from the stands, her dirty blonde hair being whipped around by the chilly fall wind.
This was Sam. She was about 5'8" tall, thing, and pretty. Her face was thin and pale, framed by her hair and pointed at the chin. She had emerald coloured eyes that were hard and beautiful at the same time. Her thick leather jacket was little defense against the cold, and niether were her tight blue jeans, but she was too focused on the race to notice. Horse number seven was the only thing on her mind right now. Two-hundred bucks, the last of her money, was riding on that horse. It was suppose to be a 'sure thing', but she had learned from experience that a 'sure thing' wasn't always a sure thing. Either way, she had no choice but to bet. It was either that or get kicked out of her apartment and live on the streets, and there was no way she was doing that again...
The horses continued to race, staying tight and close together. Number 7 was close to the lead, but he was saving his strength for the final stretch. The announcer shouted the events over the intercom...
"Number five in the lead with number two close on his tail. The horses are coming close to the final bend now, five still in the lead... Wait, what's this? Number seven is moving up! He passes number four, now number two! He's gaining on number five as the come to the final turn... It's neck and neck folks! Who's going to win the grand prize!"
"Come on... Come on!" Sam muttered to herself. She was starting to sweat and the tension was clear on her face.
"And they cross the finish line! It was close, it will have to go to the judges..." the announcer stated. After a few moments, he came back on the intercom. "And the winner is..."
"Number seven, number seven, number seven..." She continued the mantra, hoping that somehow it would affect the final decision.
"Number five!" the announcer exclaimed.
Sam was devestated. She dropped her tickets in defeat and stared off into space. She fell back into her seat and covered her face with her hands.
"********, ********, ********, ********... ********!" she screamed, causing a few other attendees to give her a strange look. What was she going to do? She had no money, and soon she would have no place to stay... Quietly, she started to weep into her hands. Why did she bet all of her money? She should have saved some... She was so stupid! She stopped, wiped her tears, and stood up. No... She thought. She had to be strong. She would fix this...somehow... But she had no idea how...
She walked out of the stadium slowly, thinking desperately. Where would she get more money? She only needed fifty bucks or so, then she could make another bet and win it all back... Then she remembered... Cory! That punk still owed her that 60 bucks she lent him. Perfect, she thought. She'd just go get that money and she'd still have a chance! So she did. She walked briskly out of the stadium towards the bus stop.
---
When she got to Cory's house, he was a little less compliant than she thought he would be. Cory was a bit of a low-life. Picture someone that looks a bit like jesus, then have him wear a house coat, pyjama pants, and slippers 24/7 and you have Cory. He had used the money she lent him for heroin, so you can gather from that what kind of person he is...
"I don't have the money right now! I'm serious! I told you I would pay you back when I could!" He pleaded, but she wouldn't have any of it.
"Listen, you degenerate ********! I want my money! And I want it now!" She grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against his wall. Even for a girl her size, she was still pretty intimidating.
"Come on, Sam... You know me, I'll get the money, just give me time..." He said with his hands raised in surrender. She pulled a pistol from his jacket and put it against his forehead. She was a girl, but she could be like a man when she had to be.
"I don't have time!" She pushed his head with the gun. "If you don't have money, give me something, just make sure it's worth what you owe me." she said, trying to level with him. He swallowed hard. He was sweating and visibly nervous.
"A-alright... Just relax... I have some dope in my kitchen cabinet... You can have that." He said. She pulled the gun away from him and he collapsed on his a** with a sigh. She walked over to the kitchen and pointed the gun at one of the cabinets.
"In here?" She asked.
"No, one more to your left..."
She opened the cabinet he told her about and sure enough, there was big bag of heroin. She hated that s**t herself, never being one for drugs, but it was probably worth even more than he owed her. She smirked, grabbing a bag and walking towards the door.
"You know, this stuff is bad for you... Maybe if you didn't take so much you wouldn't have so many problems." She said condescendingly as she opened the door.
"******** you, b***h..." Cory said, rubbing the sweat off his forehead. She winked at him.
"Stay out of trouble, Cory." she said, blowing him a kiss before leaving.
She had heroin now, all she needed to do was sell it. It was easy enough. Even though she hated street life, she was familiar with it. She was raised there. When she was young, she did a lot of things she wasn't proud of just to get by, but that was all behind her now. Now she was trying to pull herself out of poverty, and gambling was the only way she knew how. It worked, sometimes, but there were times like now when it backfired completely...
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The heroin sold quick, since she sold it for a cheaper than usual price. She sold the whole bag for 80 dollars even though she could have made over 100, but she wasn't a drug dealer, she was a gambler.
The first place she went to was back to the track. There was one more race before the night ended, and the deadline for rent was tomorrow. She walked up to the counter, placing 60 dollars in front of the teller.
"Sixty bucks on number five." she said with a confident smile. It was another 'sure thing' she had heard about just before getting to the track. She had her sources for information when it came to horse racing...
"Alright, sure thing miss." The teller took the money. She looked up at the odds for a second.
"You should bet on number two..." A quiet voice came from behind her. She turned around, ready to insult someone, but she was surprised at what she saw.
A small boy, looking no older than 10, stood before her. He was a brown haired blue eyed boy, wearing a simple black hoodie and blue jeans. He was a little odd looking. He didn't look at her, but instead stared down and away from her, as if he was speaking to no one. Sam looked at him with an amused smirk.
"And what would you know, little kid?"
His expression didn't change.
"I had a dream about the race, and in my dream the number two horse won."
Sam laughed.
"Are you suppose to be psychic, or something? Where are your parents?" She kneeled down to his level to look him in the eye, like many adults do when speaking to children, though his eyes continued to look away from her.
"When I dream about something, it usually happens... I had a dream about this too... You're going to bet on the number two horse and win... I know it."
She stood up again and looked down on him with careful consideration. What if he was right? If she bet on the wrong horse this time she was screwed... This was her last chance. Would she be wasting it if she listened to this kid, or would she be wasting it if she didn't? She didn't believe in psychics or fortune telling crap... But something about this kid was different. Maybe he actually DID know something she didn't... she turned back to the teller.
"Actually, change that bet. Put 60 dollars on number two." She said.
"You should bet all 80..." The kid spoke again. Sam glanced at him. She had only bet 60 so if she lost she'd at least have 20 to live off... But what good was the 20 dollars to her? It was hardly anything, and if the kid was right, she'd have that much more money after the race...
"Make it 80." she said, slamming another 20 dollars on the counter.
"Are you sure about that, miss?" The teller asked, noticing that she was taking advice from a kid. She glared at him.
"Yes, I'm sure." She said snidely. The teller took the money without another word. The kid turned around and began to walk away, but Sam grabbed him by the wrist.
"I don't think so. You're coming with me, and if you're wrong, you're going to pay." She said with a malevolent smirk. This was her insurance. If the kid was wrong, she would get her money, one way or another...
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The sun was begin to set, and the cold fall day was starting to get colder. Both Sam and the kid were shivering, but once again Sam didn't care. She was focused on the race, and especially the number two horse.
"They're coming around the final bend now! Number five is in the lead, but number two is close behind! They're approaching the finish line! It's neck and neck, folks! Who's going to win?!"
Sam glared down at the kid, "You better be right, you little punk..." The kid ignored her and stared at the horses. Finally, they crossed the finish line.
"And the winner is... Number two!"
Sam screamed with joy. "Yahoo! I won! I won!" She jumped up and down like a spaztic school girl. Suddenly, she felt a tug on her sleeve. She looked down to see the boy, staring up at her with his cold blue eyes. The fact that he had never looked at her directly before made this change in behaviour a lot more striking. She stared back at him, waiting for him to say something.
"I told you, didn't I? I said number two would win, because I dreamed it! It's not a lie! I can really see the future!" His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes started to tear up for some reason.
"Okay, okay... Yeah, I believe you..." she said, pulling away from him and looking a little confused. The kid turned away from her and crossed his arms. He looked like he was about to cry.
"No one believes that I really can... But now they'll know!"
Sam looked at him, and her confusion went away. She started to understand, and the confusion turned into concern.
"Where are your parents? You never told me..." She knelt down beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. She didn't know why, but this sad little boy triggered something inside her... Some sort of pity, and she felt like she had to take care of him...
The boy teared up a bit more, but he wouldn't cry. "I don't know." he said coldly with a pouty face.
"You don't know? What happened? Did you run away from home?" She asked, and genuine concern was present in her voice. The rough and tough Sam, raised on the streets, intimidating druggies, was now feeling more motherly, concerned for a young boy who didn't seem so different from her when she was his age.
"They didn't believe me! They thought I was crazy! They wanted me to go see doctors, and take pills, but I'm not crazy! You seen for yourself, right! You know I'm not lying!" He turned to her and grabbed both her sleeves, looking up at her, desperate for reassurance.
"Yeah... I don't think you're crazy. It's not safe to be all alone in this big scary world, though... Why don't you come stay at my house?" She said. The offer was because she cared, but it wasn't entirely altruistic. A kid with a gift like his... If it was a gift, not just luck... Could make her a lot of money.
The boy looked up at her. "Really? That would be okay?"
"Well, uh..." She stood up, putting her rough and tough image back on. "For a little bit, at least... I don't want a kid running around my place forever, so you'll have to find a way to take care of yourself, or at least help me out..."
"Well, I can keep predicting races for you... I can make you lots of money!" The kid said.
That was the answer she was looking for.
"Alright, you've got yourself a deal. You keep predicting races for me, and you can stay at my place." she put her hand out for a shake, and the kid accepted. "What's your name anyway?"
"Shawn." He said.
"Nice to meet you, Shawn, I'm..."
"Sam." He interupted. "I already know..."
"Oh? So you've dreamt about me a lot?" She gave him a playful wink, but he looked away from her again.
"Yes..." And that's all he said. When they got back home, both of them passed out right away. It had been a long day...
---
Shawn continued to make money for Sam. The two of them were making it big. What use to be hundred dollar bets were now climbing into the thousands. With the money, they managed to find a much nicer place, afford much nicer clothes, and find a lot nicer 'friends.' Everything was going great. Sam and Shawn were even getting along. They actually found out they had a lot in common. They liked the same kinds of food, same TV shows, and they both loved to play video games together! Everything seemed perfect... But with so much money changing hands, it was impossible for no one to notice...
"How the ******** does this b***h keep winning?" In the basement of a rundown bar, three finely dressed gentlemen were having a meeting around a round table. There were other men around, some watching the men, other standing by the doors with guns...
"I dunno, boss. She's not just betting on the rigged horses anymore, and she's still winning..." One of the men responded.
"I bet it's that kid she keeps around now. He's probably some kind of math genius, calculating odds and s**t."
"That's not how it works, idiot! It's all chance!" The other man responded.
"Shut up!" the boss yelled. He was a short man, wearing a black suit and tie,, with thinning gray hair and a thick gray moustache. The other two were dressed in fancy outfits as well: Dress coats, ties, and fedoras. In fact, it seemed to be the fasion of the room. The boss continued to speak. "I want that kid, understand? If he's got something I want it. This b***h is costing us way too much money."
"What if she doesn't want to give him up?" One of the men asked.
"Then shoot the b***h! I don't care! Just get me that kid!"
"O-okay boss, sure thing..." He stood up. "I'll get the kid for you... You can count on me..." He said.
"You better. Don't ******** up this time! If I lose anymore money someone is going to pay BIG!" He yelled, and with that, the man was out the door...
---
Sam woke up in her bed to a strange noise... Shawn was sitting on the edge of her bed, crying uncontrollably.
"What the ********..." She said sleepily, "It's 3am... What's wrong?"
Shawn continued to cry, "I don't want you to die!" He turned around and hugged Sam tightly.
"What? I'm not going to die..." she hugged him back, "Why do you think that?"
"Because I had a dream... We were in the woods... There were red eyes... And growling... Then you got angry at me, and you came after me... I was scared, then I woke up..." He said, sobbing into her shoulder.
"I would never hurt you..." She said. Every moment she spent with him, she felt more and more like a mother. Why would she hurt him? She loved him... And he loved her. "It was just a dream... It will all be okay."
"But it's not! Everything I dream always come true! How do you know this won't too?" He cried even more strongly now, and tears poured down his face. Sam grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him forward so they were face to face.
"Look me in the eye, Shawn." She said, and he did. "Do you think I would ever hurt you?"
He sniffled, then shook his head. "No..." he said, "But in the dream you weren't yourself... You were something different..." Sam hugged him again.
"It's going to be okay, I promise... You can trust me." She said as sincerely as she could. She knew that his dreams were often true, though, and that unnerved her. Red eyes? Growling? What could that be? She didn't know of any animal with red eyes... How could such a dream really be true? Regardless, she had calmed Shawn down quite a bit, and all the crying had made him tired. "Just go back to sleep... You can sleep here if you're scared. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe." Shawn sniffled again, and quietly he nuzzled against her and fell asleep. Sam couldn't sleep though. Her mind was fixed on the red eyes... What could they be?
---
Fall was coming to an end, and with it, so was the racing season. Snow was falling through the air, covering the track in a thin blanket of white. Sam sat down in her seat, watching the race idly and talking about gamed with Shawn. Things weren't as intense now that every race was a real sure thing, and not just a 'sure thing'. Both of them were bundled up in winter gear: Scarves, toques, mits and jackets. Money was easy now, so they didn't worry about spending too much on clothes. It was easy street for both of them. Even though the season was coming to a end, they still had plenty of money to last them until the next year.
It was the last race of the night, and the sun was setting a little earlier than it usually did. The sky was dark by the end of it, and the full moon cast an eerie yellow glow over the landscape. Sam wasn't one for superstition though, so as eery as it was, it was just another full moon...
"And the winner is... Number seven!"
There was no shouting or jumping for joy this time. Only a feeling of satisfaction of having known before that number seven was sure to win. Sam stood up, and so did Shawn. They prepared to leave the stadium...
"Give me the kid..." A voice came from behind them. They both turned around.
"Who the ******** are you?" Sam said rudely.
"None of you business, b***h... Now hand over that kid or there's going to be trouble."
"******** you..." She said, then began to back off. She pushed Shawn behind her. It was something about the way he dressed... Fedora, fancy coat, dress shoes... He looked like a mobster.
"We know about the kid... We've been watching you, and we know about the powers... Hand him over and nobody gets hurt..." As he spoke, he tried to conceal the fact that he was drawing a weapon, but Sam was smarter AND faster. With a loud BANG the well dressed man fell to the ground like a rag doll, and Sam was running out of the stadium while holding on tightly to Shawn's hand.
"What's going on Sam?!" He cried out. Hearing the gunshot... Watching the person he cared about the most take another life... He couldn't help but cry. He was scared.
"I don't know..." She answered honestly. She had no idea who that man was. The only thing she knew was that he wasn't alone... As she ran, similarly dressed men were popping out of the crowd and chasing after. She was scared too, but she wouldn't show it for Shawn's sake.
They ran out of the building and away from the crowd, and that's when the bullets started flying.
BANG, BANG, BANG!
Shots came from behind her, 3, 4, 5 men... She couldn't tell. She fired back, but she didn't hit. She just kept running and running... Up ahead was an abandoned warehouse... It was where they use to keep all the racing supplies, but they left it once they built a new track. Maybe they could hide there, she thought... It was their only hope.
She ran through the fields of white toward the building. Behind it was a vast forest with pines covered in snow. The full moon beamed from behind the trees and the building, creating a ominous looking seen ahead of them. It looked almost like a haunted mansion, or something.
When they got to the building, both of them stopped to catch their breath. The men were still a way back, giving them enough time to hide. She went inside and slammed the door behind her. She found a big desk and threw it in front of the door. The two of them went to the other side of the building and hid behind some crates. After a few minutes, they could hear the banging on the door.
"We know you're in there! Just give us the kid and we'll leave. You can keep your money and your things, we just want the boy!" One of the men shouted. Sam kept silent. Finally they burst through the door and pushed the desk out of the way. It was six men who entered into the building... More than Sam had expected.
"Please sam! Don't let them take me... I don't want to go." Shawn whispered frantically.
"Don't worry..." Sam assured him. "I'll protect you, remember?" She smiled at him, and it seemed to calm him down a bit. He had more faith in her words than she did, though...
"Come out come out wherever you are!" The man said, holding his pistol up and searching around the room. "It's only a matter of time before we find you... why don't you just give up?" A mouse knocked something in the distance, and he turned immediately, pointing his gun in that direction. Sam took the opportunity. She got out from cover and fired three shots in his back, then turned to fire at the others. The man collapsed, dead, and one other was shot in the side. They returned fire, but Sam was already back behind the crates.
"We have to get out of here..." She said to herself. Shawn looked around.
"Over there! there's another door!" He pointed behind them. On the same side of the crates as them, about 20 metres from their position, their was another door. It was their only hope.
"Alright... stay in front of me." She said. She fired a few shots at the men, then made a break for the door. They fired back, but they could barely see her. It seemed like they would actually escape... Then, just as she opened the door, a bullet whizzed through the air, tearing into her back and coming out the other side. She screamed in agony and fell face first into the snow, staining it with her crimson blood.
"No! Get up!" Shawn shouted. Sam struggled, but she managed to stand. She got up and ran as fast as she could towards the woods, with Shawn leading the way. "Come on! we're almost there!" They kept moving, and as they passed through the field, a thick black cloud moved across the the sky, hiding the moon and casting the world into darkness... The wind blew a bit more coldly, and snow fell a bit more swiftly...
They made it to the edge of the forest and went in. It didn't seem like they were being chased anymore, which was unusual... Sam was certain they were seen going towards the forest. Did they give up? She was too weak to tell for sure... She was losing blood fast, and she didn't feel like she had much time left.. She fell to her knees, then collapsed face first into the snow.
They were surrounded by dark, cold forest, and everything around them was now silent. No guns, no yelling, no horses... Only the sound of a cold winter wind blowing through the woods.
"Sam... Sam! Please! Get up! I can't make it on my own... You said you'd protect me!" He cried out, tugging on her sleeve.
"Shawn..." She muttered. "I think... I think... I think I'm going to die soon." She coughed blood onto the snow. "I think they hit me... In my lung... I can't breath... too good..." She said.
"No! you're not going to die! you promised me! You promised!"
"P-please... stay with me... Shawn... I don't want to be alone. Please." She said, tears forming in her eyes. "You're like a son to me... I know I'm too young to be you're mother, but... I care about you..." She coughed up more blood into the snow.
"Please don't die... please..." Shawn cried into her back.
The cold wind continued to blew, and a sound was carried with it... A growl. Sam froze with fear.
"No..." she said. In front of her, in the thick blackness, clouded by a flurry of snow... She saw them. They had filled her mind with horror for so long... ever since that night, they had been in her mind, constantly nagging at her... A secret fear she didn't want Shawn to know about... she didn't want him to know that he had caused her so much uneasiness...
The red eyes, beaming brightly, clearly visible even in the darkness. The sent terror throughout Sam's body. She wasn't even afraid to die, but for some reason, the eyes were enough to fill her with fear... She had had her own dreams, or rather, nightmares about the same eyes, but everytime before she saw what it was, she awoke...
"P-please... Shawn... Stay with me... I'm s...scared..." she said honestly, grabbing onto Shawn's hand. It was the first time she had ever admited being scared to him, but he was scared as well.
He shook, and his eyes widened. Sweat poured down his face and his hairs stood on end. He pulled away from Sam, standing up and walking away from her.
"Shawn... Please!" She cried. Tears fell from her eyes. "Don't leave me... I'm scared... I don't want to die alone... in a place like this..." But Shawn couldn't. He loved her, and she was like a mother to him, but the eyes filled him with fear as well, and more and more of them were coming out of the darkness. They were in all directions now... Without thinking much, he darted off into the darkness, leaving Sam alone to her fate.
"Shawn! No! Shawn! Please!" She cried out in despair, but it was futile. He was gone. "Shawn! No... Shawn..." She began to weep. The feeling was similar to when she nearly lost everything... Hopelessness... She was alone, frightened, and powerless.
The growling got louder, and the eyes got larger as they came closer. Soon, she could see the images of what they were.
Large, powerful jaws full of wicked teeth made for tearing and rending flesh. Thick, mangy fur from front to back. Large paws with claws made for digging into the ground while speeding throught he woods.
They moved closer to her. Their seemed to be hundreds of them, all surrounding Sam. She looked around, silent now, her eyes filled with fear. They growled at her menacingly. they were ready to feed.
"No... Not like this... Shawn! Please!" She cried out again. "I don't want to die!" The wolves moved in more, their eyes glowing red... These weren't wolves... They were something else...
They darted in quickly now, each grabbing a piece of Sam's flesh. She screamed out in agony as the began to devour her, piece by bloody piece.
"NO! NO! NO!" Were the only words she could cry out in her brutal suffering. As they ate her, the pain was horrible, but slowly it began to subside, and Sam started to notice something unusual... She wasn't dying. She felt herself changing, becoming something else... The wolves were consuming her... And she was becoming a part of them. She surrendered, becoming silent and on resistant. The chewed and chewed until there was nothing left... Even the bones were eaten. Then Sam was gone... But there was something new in her place... A viscious wolf, with fur as black as obsidian, and eyes as red blood. All it felt was rage, and hatred, and it had a strong desire for... vengeance.
---
Shawn ran blindly through the woods, not sure which way was which. He had no idea where to go, or even where he came from. He was completely lost and alone... And he had abandoned the one person that loved and cared about him... The one person who promised to protect him... He fell to his knees, balling. He hit himself hard in the head, over and over. Why? Why did he leave her? Why was he such a coward!? He cried and cried, then cried some more. He had nothing left now except his power, but what good was it to him? He was nothing without Sam... He wished she was till with him..
Then, from the darkness, the red eyes beamed at him. A viscious growl was heard and the black she-wolf moved into his vision. He looked into it's eyes, and he saw... He knew who it really was.
"Sam! You're alright! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have left you! Please forgive me... I felt so guilty, I want to make it up to you somehow!" But there was no sign of recognition... To the she-wolf, a debt was owed, and she had always collected her debts. It moved closer, growling menacingly.
"Sam! Please! I'm so sorry! I love you! Don't you love me?! You said I was like a son to you!" He pleaded. He was like a son, but a mother wolf is still capable of devouring her own offspring, no matter how much she loves them...
"Saaaam!" He cried, his eyes filled with tears. The she-wolf moved closer. "Saaaam!" Is all he could cry out. Finally, the wolf moved up and bit his crotch, castrating him and removing his c**k as well.
Shawn cried out in horrible agony, writhing around in the snow, blood sprinkling out of the spot where his member use to be. He tried to crawl away, but the she-wrolf grabbed him by the leg.
"Sam! No! Please no! I don't want to die!" But it fel ondeaf ears. She bit into the thick thigh muscle, tearing flesh from bone. Blood squirted across the snow, painting the white canvas a deep crimson. "Saaam!" Despair, pain, suffering. They were the only things Shawn could feel. the wolf tore at his thigh until there was nothing but bone. Shawn tried to resist, kicking and struggling against the wolf, but it only fueled it's bloodlust.
Bits of blood spattered across the black coat, and shawn cried more and more. Eventually, his resitance and his crying began to lessen. He struggled, but he was becoming weaker and weaker. Eventually, the life was drained out of his body, and his corpse was left half eaten in the snow.
The she-wolf howled, and the full moon returned from it's hiding place behind the clouds. The human presence inside of it had vacated, and now it was just a beast, left to roam the woods with the rest of it's pack.
The boy's body was never found, nor was Sam's. No one really knew who they were, so no one really missed them. It was like they were erased from history. They no longer had a past... And the definately didn't have... A future.
THE END
tl;dr gambling, daw, sucks, what? fortune telling kid, boo ya! mobster, so jelly. bang bang bang! shoot shoot shoot! argh, hit! gah! scary red eyes! rarararar nom nom nom nom, dead. The end.
Kettoh · Tue Mar 02, 2021 @ 01:49am · 0 Comments |
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Ogrest Origins: Brothers of Different Blood |
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"Ogrest!" A women's voice called from off in the distance.
A young orc stirred from his meditation at the base of a tree amidst the mountains and springs at the southwestern border of Gorgrond. His icy blue eyes opened, and he grasped the handle of his blade resting on his shoulder. He stood up. He was long and lean, quite defined, but still the body of a young boy, around the age of 10, in comparison to human years. Long black hair hung down to his lower back, large orcish teeth jutting out the sides of his mouth, his green complexion glowing with the freshness of youth. He was barefoot, and only wore a raggy pair of brown shorts.
"Ogrest, where are you?!" The woman's voice called again, and Ogrest turned his head to where it was coming from.
A mature orc woman appeared from the brush, her face marked with worry and the lines of age. Her icy blue eyes matched those of the young orc, and they peered frantically from side to side, scanning the landscape for the boy.
Ogrest turned and took one last look at the gleaming oasis of water before him, taking in the fresh smell, then stepped out from behind the tree to reveal himself. The woman gasp, startled at first, then sighed with releif.
"Ogrest!" Her voice now became scolding in it's tone, "Where have you been?! What are you doing out here?!"
"I came to look at the water, mother." The orc boy told her, his voice quite calm, showing little emotion.
"Your father has been looking for you. You've missed your training again! He's furious!"
Ogrest merely grunted and shrugged. The woman frowned at him and placed her hands on her hips.
"I understand why you like it out here, Ogrest, but it's important that you obey your father. He only wants you to be strong. He's harsh sometimes, but it's for your own good."
Ogrest looked away, placing his sword on his shoulder as he spit on the ground. He grunted once again.
"Will you return with me? Please, Ogrest?"
Ogrest looked up at her once again and merely nodded.
---
As the two of them travelled along the road heading north, the landscape gradually change from a lush jungle to a more barren desert. The colors of green and blue changed to brown and grey, and where before there were shimmering lakes and ponds, there were now small puddles and steaming geysers. They approached a small encampment and walked until they reached a tent amongst many.
"Maya!" A voice roared to their left, and Maya turned with a look of concern. A massive black haired orc came marching angrily towards them, his boulder like fists clenched tightly, his red eyes burning with fury. "Where is the little brat?! Did you find him?!"
Before she could answer, Ogrest stepped out from behind his mother, his eyes calm and fearless, as he had long since learned to never show fear. Not to anyone.
"Ogrest!" The orcs continued forward, grabbing the boy by the neck with his vice-grip, lifting him into the air with one arm. "You missed training again! Now you hide behind your mother like a helpless little whelp! How did I raise such a little weakling?! You disappoint me!" He yelled, Ogrest futily attempting to pry open his father's grip, kicking at the man's chest with no effect. The orc man tossed his son to the ground, a cloud of dust billowing up from beneath him as he hit the the dirt with a thud.
"Ograr! Stop it!" Maya cried, but Ograr gave her a fierce stare and she was silenced immediately. Ogrest pushed himself to his feet, his body now covered with scrapes. He brushed the dust off himself, and picked up his sword, then looked at his father coldly.
"I'm sorry, father. It won't happen again." He assure him.
"I know it won't, boy! I know, because for your disobedience you will be training with your brothers throughout the night! You are all kin, so you will be punished together! Perhaps you will learn that there are consequences for letting down your family! Not just for you, but for all of us! If there is a weak link, it must be strengthened or cast out! What will you choose, Ogrest? Will you step up and fulfill your duty, or run away to the forests like a coward?"
"I will be strong, father."
"Will you?! Then show me! Come, now! We will test your mettle again, until you learn to obey!"
---
Hours after getting out of the dirt, Ogrest found himself their once again, blood dripping out his mouth, his body broken and bruised.
"Get up Ogrest!" Shouted Ograr, his voice devoid of any sympathy. "Get up, or you won't ever get up! Hit him again, Gorgaug!"
A wooden training sword came down hard on Ogrests back, and the orc child stifled a grunt of pain. He began to lift himself up before another blow came down even harder on his head. His vision went black for a moment, but he fought the darkness with all he could. He knew another blow was coming, and this one would be more than he could take. He rolled over swiftly, catching the wooden sword in his hand. He gripped it tightly and growled, the whites of his eyes visible as he glared up furiously at the slightly older red-eyed orc who's mouth was agape with shock.
Ogrest ripped the stick out of this brother's grip, getting to his feet quickly and jumping at Gorgaug with all his weight. Gorgaug sprawled quickly, nearly getting knocked over, but managed to block the attack. He laughed, lifting Ogrest, spinning, then throwing the little orc across the room. Ogrest skidded across the dirt, but quickly got to his hands and knees. As he looked up, his face quickly met with the shin bone of his older brother and things went dark very quickly. He woke up moments later, on his back with his older brother and father looking over him.
Gorgaug had a grin from ear to ear, while Ograr's stern expression showed neither concern or anger.
"How many times have I told you: If you're getting up, protect your face! Lest you want to get kicked in it!" Ograr told him, and Ogrest merely groaned in pain, sitting up and rubbing his aching head. "Anyway, that's enough for today. Anymore and your frail body might finally give out. Hopefully this was enough for you to learn your lesson. Next time you skip out on training will be the last time you ever see your family again. Understood?"
Ogrest nodded, struggling to his feet. Gorgaug smacked him hard on the back, nearly knocking Ogrest over, that s**t-eating grin still on his face.
"Nice try little brother! I was surprised, but as usual it wasn't enough. Maybe one day you'll beat me, but I doubt it."
"Maybe if I had a stick too, I would." Ogrest retorted.
"Maybe if you didn't skip training, you wouldn't need one."
"Hmph, you're only stronger because you're bigger. Wait till we're both grown, and we'll see who comes out on top."
"Hah! I'm bigger because I'm a blackrock! It's that frostwolf blood that makes you small and weak!"
Ogrest's eyes turned furious, and he clenched his fists and stepped towards his brother.
"Enough!" Shouted Ograr, "Your bickering is painful to my ears! You are both weaklings! Go eat and rest, so hopefully you can grow out of your miserable shapes!"
Both brothers grumbled angrily under their breaths, heading outside of the tent.
---
The barracks mess hall was full of young boys like Ogrest and Gorgaug, all covered in varying degrees of injury, eating their meals hungrily. It was unusual for young orcs to be this age, since the majority of them were unnaturally forced into adulthood through magical means, but a good chunk of them would grow naturally at their parents discretion, and it was typical that these naturally growing boys and girls would eat and train together, so they wouldn't be killed by the much larger 'men'.
Ogrest and Gorlaug stood in line as the ogre slave dished out their helpings of meat and gruel, and despite it's unsavory appearance, both boys devoured it without hesitation. Afterwards, they headed to their sleeping quarters, shared by several other boys, with Ogrest and Gorgaug sharing a bunk bed.
At this time, all the other boys in the room were already fast asleep, some of them snoring loudly. Gorgaug settle down on the bottom bunk as Ogrest climbed to the top and laid himself down rather painfully. Ogrest laid awake for some time, thinking, but his thoughts were interupted as Gorgaug spoke.
"I'm sorry for insulting your mother." He said quietly. "Maybe I'm just jealous that you still have one." Ogrest was silent from some time, "Are you awake?" Gorgaug asked, wondering why his brother hadn't responded.
"You shouldn't apoligize. It's weak." Ogrest finally said, with a bit of snap in his tone. "And as for your mother: It's not my problem. Keep your issues to yourself." Gorgaug smiled to himself.
"Ha, I guess not. Goodnight Ogrest, you weak blooded little b*****d. Be ready for another beating tomorrow."
"Shut up and go to sleep."
There was silence after that, and the two of them dozed off for the little time they could, for dawn came early for the young warriors of the Blackrock Clan.
---
Kettoh · Tue Mar 02, 2021 @ 01:44am · 0 Comments |
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Blade's End and a New Beginning |
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" This is the story of how Ferrum in Oblitus (my WoW guild) was disbanded and replaced by the Silver Sword Company. Averus is a blood knight who was betrayed by the undead rogue Razala. " It was early in the twilight hours and a thick fog loomed across the vast forests of Tirisfal Glades. Averus, Ogrest, and Xeroshin sat atop a small hill, looking down on the quiet town of Brill from their mounts. They were mere sillhouettes, nearly invisible to the unsuspecting denizens of that undead town.
"You still think this is a good idea?" Xeroshin asked, gripping the reins of his steed with anticipation.
"There's no doubt in my mind. These undead are a danger, and they must pay." Averus replied, his stern crusader stare blazing with vengance upon Brill.
"Ogrest?"
Ogrest merely grunted, his head covered by his plate helm, his blue eyes still visible despite the dark shadow cast by his helm.
Xeroshin returned his eyes to the town, still not certain about this choice of action. None of the members of Ferrum in Oblitus were quite ready to accept this, but they followed their leader without question. Averus had lead them well thus far. He guided and trained many of them, and through the dark times when the guild was outlawed he was like a beacon of light, leading them out of the darkness. It was quite a dangerous plan, but the general consensus was that Averus knew what he was doing.
"I will go to the Zeppelin towers," Ogrest finally spoke, "With a small group of soldiers, I will blockade the towers and prevent any escape as well as hold off any reinforcements."
Averus nodded, "Good. We'll attack just before sunrise. Tell everyone to be ready, Xero."
Xero nodded, kicking his horse into action as he turned and rode behind the hill where the rest of Ferrum in Oblitus was poised to attack. Ogrest kicked his bear, who whined and growled, impatiently waiting for it's chance to sink its teeth into cold flesh.
Averus continued to glare down into the town as Amulious rode up to his side, his characteristic helmet on his head, covering his gruesome scars.
"Be ready for battle, Amulious." Averus said coldly.
"You don't have to tell me. I've been waiting for this day for a long time." Amulious replied, a hint of excitement in his tone.
Averus nodded.
---
Brill was quiet as the sun began to break through the thick fog from the east. Though the undead rarely slept, they still planned their days according to the rising and setting of the sun. The town began to stir, slowly, and a few of its denizen made their way out of their homes onto the smooth cobblestone roads.
The guards continued their patrols, always keeping a watchful eye. Even in Tirisfal the scourge had many minions who would not shy away from the chance of taking an unsuspecting forsaken town.
One guard looked off in the horizon, noticing a few moving shapes. He walked towards them cautiously, away from Brill, to check. As he made his way up the hill, he felt a sharp pain in his back, followed by a dagger which sunk deep and tore straight to the spine. With his wind pipe severed, he could not even muster a scream before he fell limply to the ground.
Benelyn stood over the unanimated corpse, gulping slightly from the fear of her betrayal, then waved over at the troops on top of the hill.
The army of Ferrum in Oblitus came rushing down in droves, the only sound being the trampling of their boots and the clinking of their heavy armor. It wasn't until they were already upon the town that the guards finally noticed them.
"We're under attack!" Cried a guard, drawing his sword as he was assailed by two elves who quickly dispatched him. The rest of the forsaken guards drew their arms and went to battle, but the element of surprise left them at a severe disadvantage.
"Send word to the Undercity! We need reinforcements!" Another called, and a forsaken citizen nodded and sprinted south up the hills.
She panted desperately, coming over the hill. She gasped in terror as she came face to face with an armor plated orc, a shadowy collossus with icy blue eyes staring at her beneath a plated helm.
---
As the battle ensued, warrior and civilian alike were cut down by Averus and his elven warriors. Averus himself cut deeply into the undead ranks, black and red blood spattered over his rage-filled face. He blasted holy fire and cut down enemies one after the other.
"Averus! More undead are coming!" Shouted Xeroshin as more undead made their way down the eastern road towards Brill.
"Don't stop fighting! We'll kill them all, down to the last man!"
Amulious fought with glee, grinning as he chased down an undead woman and cut across her back, leaving her in a pool of black blood on the dirt. Two guards came upon him, and he laughed as he incinerated them from within with holy fire. He pushed his way eastward as Averus pushed west.
In his blind fury, Averus found himself cut off from his companions, but his crusader rage would not allow him to stop pushing forward, cutting down enemy after enemy and leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. Finally, he found himself on the outside of Brill, panting heavily but still full of fight.
"Averus!" Cried Benelyn, noticing the peril which her leader had found himself. She began to run towards him.
"Stay there and keep fighting Benelyn! I'm fine on my own!" He said, and Benelyn stopped, thinking about disobeying him for a moment, but her thinking quickly ceased and she began to fight again when a forsaken guard engaged her in combat.
Averus looked onward, noticing a small band of undead approaching the town of Brill, though this group did not look anything like the forsaken guards whom they were fighting.
It was a small army of ghouls and necromancers, and at the head were two who stood out, and one who Averus recognized immediately.
"Cayene!" Averus roared angrily. He went forward and stopped before them, and he was quickly surrounded by undead. Cayene cackled maniacally.
"Excellent work, Averus! Even when my identity is revealed, you and your goons still manage to fall into every trap we set out for you!"
"What are you talking about, witch?!"
"You've done nicely in destroying Brill, but our Scourge forces can take over from here. Go! Kill elf and forsaken alike! Leave none alive!"
"No!" Cried Averus, turning to warn the others, but he was quickly cut off by two abominations.
"Haha! Well, thanks for the help Averus, but your time has come to an end! Kill him!" Cayene ordered, and the two hulking abominations moved towards the paladin.
"Wait." Spoke the other figure, and the abominations stopped in their tracks.
Beside Cayene stood another man, cloaked from head to toe in a tattered beige cloak, clasped in the center by a pin bearing the crest of Lordaeron. Beneath his large, billowy hood peered two ominous glowing blue eyes.
"Ricolne, what are you doing?! We must kill him now, or we'll risk everything!"
"A warrior such as him doesn't deserve a dog's death. I'll kill him myself; In single combat."
Averus smirked, turning to face this strange warrior as the abominations backed off and made their way towards Brill, leaving the three of them alone.
"So, who would you be then? Another slimy undead b*****d to be cut down by my sword?"
"My name is Ricolne Blackwood. They called me 'The Scarless' in life, because I've never been beaten in single combat, nor have I been wounded in battle." The undead spoke, unclasping his cloak and tossing it to the side. He stood before Averus, his ebony plate armor gleaming beneath the rising sun. He drew his longsword and held it before him, the handle of which bore the crest of lordaeron. He stared at Averus with his glowing scourge eyes, his long greasy blonde hair tied tightly behind his head for battle.
Averus narrowed his eyes, his lips pursing as he realized the seriousness of the situation. He gripped his sword tightly, his shield secured firmly on his other arm.
"Uncle Ricolne, this is foolhardy! Let the abominations kill him and be done with it!" Cayene pleaded, but her uncle ignored her. She growled angrily, looking between the two of them before stepping back a safe distance.
"I'm surprised a mindless ghoul like you still has honor." Averus taunted.
"You'll find yourself much more surprised when you lie on the ground dying. Have at thee, knave!" Ricolne lunged forward with blinding speed, slashing at Averus. Averus blocked, and the two swords clanged together with violent intensity. Though Averus was a skilled swordsman, he could not withstand the attack of one of Lordaeron's finest and began to be pushed back. "Hmph, I'm disappointed. I was expecting a more interesting fight." Ricolne said. He lunged forward, pushing Averus back a few more steps, feinted, then slashed at Averus' head.
The valiant crusader tried to raise his shield to block, but he wasn't quick enough. As the blade swung towards his head he managed to stumble back, and the blade sliced deeply across his face, causing blood to pour down into his eyes and mouth.
"Interesting." Said Ricolne, "that was suppose to kill you. At least you have courage, I'll give you that."
"Ha, right. You're a good swordsman too, but is that all you can do?" Averus chuckled, dropping his shield.
"Hm?" ricolne looked at Averus curiously, believing the battle to be won.
Averus gripped his sword, then swiftly his raised his hand and a flash of blinding light exploded from his palm. He quickly rushed forward, swinging his sword at the undead's neck.
"Cheap trick!" Yelled Ricolne, raising his sword to parry quickly.
"Ricolne!" Suddenly the undead knight was distracted, the concern in his nieces voice triggering his paternal instincts. He glanced to her as she ran towards him. Foolish girl he thought, realizing his mistake almost instantly. Had she not distracted him, his blade would have easily parried Averus' blow and would have found it's way into the elf's neck, but he was milliseconds too slow, and Averus's sword narrowly missed the parry and connected with the undead's neck.
Ricolne's head flew into air, his body falling limply to its knees and then to the ground. His head thudded a few feet beside him.
"NO!" Cayene shrieked with unimaginable shock and grief, running to her uncle's side and collapsing on top of him. She sobbed loudly, burying her head in his chest and gripping the fabric of his tunic. "No please no! This can't be happening! This can't be real! Ahh!" she screamed again, then slowly rose to her feet.
"You b*****d... You basta-!" She was silenced quickly as Averus' sword plunged into her chest to the hilt, the blade sticking out of her back. She gulped and gurgled black bile, tears streaming down her cheeks. She kicked violently as Averus lifted her off the ground, but her struggling soon ceased. A few short, sputtery sobs escaped her lips as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and Averus lowered his sword so that she slid off of it onto the corpse of her uncle. Averus panted, wiping the blood from his face, when suddenly he felt a sharp, familiar pain in his back. He quickly stepped forward, turning 180 degress to face his attacker. It was Razala.
"You traitorous coward!" he coughed a bit of blood, though the wound was not quite fatal. "Why did I ever... trust you." He said, then raised his hand. Suddenly Razala body contorted with pain as holy energy seared him from the inside out. Averus stopped, and Razala was left writhing on the ground in agony. He stepped forward, prepared to finish the job. He looked beyond Razala, noticing someone watching not too far away.
"Ogrest!" Averus yelled, and Ogrest stood silently, a hulking black silhouette with the rising sun behind him. His eyes seemed to glow silver; A cold, inhuman glow. They stared at Averus with a cold and stoic ferocity. "Help me finish this undead, will you?" Ogrest said nothing, remaining where he stood. "Ogrest! That was an order!"
"I no longer serve you, Averus." Ogrest stated. He stepped forward, his axe and shield already drawn and ready.
"What are you talking about, Ogrest? Would you betray me too?" Averus laughed, "So this is how it is. I'm to be killed by ungrateful traitors. Tell me, why now? What have I done to deserve this?"
"It's not personal, Averus. Your actions are out of control. If I don't kill you now, the horde will tear itself apart. I've spoken with Sylvannnas, and she's agreed to forgive the elves and Silvermoon if I put an end to Ferrum in Oblitus, but more specifically, you."
Averus laughed, his face and armor covered in blood. "So you will do the dirty work then, Ogrest?" His laughter quickly turned to anger, "You're an idiot! You've always been nothing but a dog!" He spit on the ground. "Come on then, do it! Finish me if you have the balls!"
"You're right, I've always followed orders without question. It was you who told me, 'if I ever put the guild in danger, you are to kill me.' So here I am, putting an end to your madness once and for all. Raise your sword, Averus. I don't intend to slaughter you like an animal. Fight me, and die with what little honor you have left!" Ogrest charged forward with a roar, and the two engaged in a deadly battle of mak'gora.
---
At the end of the battle, Averus fell to his knees. Before the final blow was struck, he spoke these final words:
"I never claimed to be an honorable man."
Ogrest appeared to nod, though it was barely noticeable. He walked forward coldly, axe raised.
---
Brill was on fire, and smoke rose to cloud the blue sky. Elf, forsaken, and scourge bodies littered the streets, but with the help of reinforcements from the undercity the scourge attack was halted. The remaining warriors from Ferrum in Oblitus continued to battle with the Forsaken, but without the reinforcements being blocked they were quickly being overwhelmed.
Suddenly, Ogrest appeared on the hill above the city and roared loudly.
"Elves and undead, stop your fighting! Averus is dead! The battle is over!" He lifted the severed head of Averus high in the air, and the battle slowly began to stop as everyone looked over to the bloody orc. A few anguished cries sounded off at the sight of Averus, his white droopy eyes covered in blood as more of it dripped out of his neck.
"I am the new leader of Ferrum in Oblitus, and I hereby disband the guild forever! By order of the Dark Lady, disperse now! Those of you who wish to follow me, do so as you please!"
As the sun reached it's peak in the sky, the extent of the bloodshed was clearly visible. Brill was destroyed, and it's streets littered with corpses. The battle was finally over, but nothing was gained for the horde besides despair. From the west more Scourge forces approached, and a new battle was about to begin. The Tirisfal glades would not recover from this atrocity for many generations to come.
THE END (???)
Kettoh · Tue Mar 02, 2021 @ 01:42am · 0 Comments |
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Ricolne 'The Scarless' Blackwood |
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Ricolne was born to a lesser noble family. His father was a coward, fearing battle and avoiding it all cost, and his reputation cost his family greatly. Ricolne witnessed his mother be ridiculed and rejected by other nobles, and this angered him greatly. This instilled in him a drive to become great unlike his father, and to redeem the blackwood name.
He acted out in his youth, often getting into fights with other noble boys and beating them soundly. He earned himself a repution, although a violent one. His mother tried to temper him, but he'd have none of it. He continued his fighting, easily being provoked when others would mention his father's cowardice or his less than noble name.
Things escalated when he beat a noble boy so badly that he was left with permenant scars on his face. Ricolne's father, desperate to not upset the nobles above him, beat his son and sent him to fight against the orcs in the second war, despite him only being 12 years old.
Ricolne was glad to be gone from his family and given a chance to prove himself. His youthful fighting had made him a decent fighter, and as he fought battle after battle he became only more skilled. Men in the army of Lordaeron began to call him Ricolne 'The Scarless', because no matter how many battles he fought he seemed to come out without a scratch every time. This reputation lead him to being promoted to a commander, where he continued to prove himself even more, leading many troops to victory without suffering much losses.
When the war was over, he returned to find his home in ruins, his leader Baron Garithos dead. The survivors gathered under the new Lord Othmar, but unfortunately for Ricolne his mother had been raped and killed by orcs as they tore through their home. His father was nowhere to be found, but the rumor was that he had fled as soon as the orcs came upon Blackwood, leaving his wife and Ricolne's mother and sister, Samantha, to their fate. Samantha survived, and Ricolne learned that she had a child, Cayene, who had been born out of wedlock to the new Lord Garithos. He ordered several of his men to protect his sister, and also to travel to where his niece was and to protect her as well.
Ricolne himself left Blackwood, no longer seeing a future for himself there. He went to Capitol city and sought more orders from the king.
There he served as a bodyguard, and it is there that he met Prince Arthas. Though the two did not know each other well, Arthas had heard how Ricolne had gained honor for himself despite his low noble birth. Admiring this, Arthas requested Ricolne as one of his many retainers, taking him away from the army for some time.
As a retainer, Ricolne was given more opportunity to perfect his swordsmanship, having access to the best sword trainers in Lordaeron. He also learned much from the Silver Hand, though he had little faith in the light after witnessing the horrors of the second war and the tremendous power of the dark orc warlocks.
Finally, after some time, he left with Arthas to fight blackrock orcs and was by his side during the events leading up to the Third War. Ricolne followed Arthas to Northrend, staying loyal to him throughout, even during the purge of Stratholme.
During the expedition, Ricolne and a group of soldiers got seperated during a battle with the scourge and were forced to retreat into the mountains of Northrend. Cut off from the main force, Ricolne and his allies had to survive in the pitiless cold of the great northern continent. They travelled hundreds of miles, men falling periodically to the elements. Finally, Ricolne remained as the sole survivor, his body wracked with hunger pains, his skin blackened by the icy wind.
Climbing to the peak of one of the mountains, he fell to his knees, looking over the cliffside and finally seeing the main camp off in the distance. He looked off with tired eyes, his cloak being whipped violently by the merciless wind. It was still miles and miles away, and his body had finally reached his limits. He felt glad that his allies had survived, and he assumed that Arthas had succeeded. He died as he was, on his knees, becoming a frozen statue of Northrend, gazing off into the southern sea.
It wasn't until two years later that he suddenly awoke. Wasn't he dead? He couldn't understand what was happening until a voice spoke to him in his mind.
"Awaken, warrior. Your king needs you in Icecrown. Quickly! Before all is lost!"
Ricolne stuck his sword into the ice, lifting himself to his feet, ice cracking and falling off of his body as he did so. His eyes opened, glowing with a pale blue light. His king was calling him, and he was never one to ignore a call to arms. He marched steadfastly, no longer feeling the pain of the cold or the fatigue in his body. He made his way to Icecrown, to join the now Death Knight Arthas in his ascent towards Icecrown Citadel.
---
Years later, Ricolne was sent back to the plaguelands on orders from the Lich King. While he was there, he travelled to Blackwood to see what had become of his old home. His sister had died of disease, and her body was cremated and buried with his mother. While searching through his old home, he heard a rustling in the attic. He opened the attic door, pulling a person from it swiftly and throwing it hardly to the floor. He pointed his sword to the man's neck, who seemed strangely familiar.
"Ricolne! It is me, your father! How I am glad to see you again, it's been so long. You seem... Pale. Are you feeling alright, my son?"
Ricolne looked at him with his cold, glowing eyes.
"Ricolne, don't you recognize me? Do you... Blame me for your mother? Please my son, forgive me. There was nothing I could do. The orcs were coming. I tried to save her, but there was nothing I could do. They took her before I could do a thing."
Ricolne said nothing, keeping his sword poised to his father's throat, listening to his story. Ricolne's father looked at his son, and his eyes widened suddenly.
"What has happened to you?" He asked rather frantically. "Did you succumb to the plague? Are you still human?"
Ricolne said nothing.
"That matters not to me. you are my son, regardless. Here, help me up, let's get out of he- URGH!" He was silenced suddenly as Ricolne's sword pushed into his father's chest. Confusion came over his face first as blood pooled at the sides of his mouth, then his eyes widened with fear, then finally despair washed over them as tears formed at the corners. Finally he died, and Ricolne watched the entire time, looking down at his father with a silent fury behind his eyes, but otherwise expressionless. He stepped on his father and ripped his sword from the dead man's chest. He wiped the blood off of it and returned it to it's sheathe, then left his home, leaving his father to rot there.
He left Blackwood without looking back. Everything he had ever loved was lost, and all that remained was his honor and loyalty.
---
Kettoh · Tue Mar 02, 2021 @ 01:41am · 0 Comments |
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Cayene Garithos is the b*****d daughter of Othmar Garithos, born just before the second war to her father and the sister of Ricolne Blackwood. Fearing dishonor, her father reluctantly sent her away to train as a priestess of the light, away from the prying eyes of other nobles.
After the third war, she was reunited with her father who was incredibly glad to see she had survived the plague and war, and she joined him and the remnants of Lordaeron in rebuilding their kingdom. During this time, she was legitimized by her father and thenceforth was considered a true member of the Garithos family by blood and name.
During her work with her father, despite being only only 14, she proved herself to be well skilled with the light, and her faith in her father and the rebirth of Lordaeron gave her an incredible will and connection to those forces. Together they tried to protect and rebuild humanity from anyone who would threaten it.
Eventually they met with Sylvannas Windrunner, though the dark lady did not take much note of her, as the forsaken queen did not hold Garithos in high regard, so she certainly had little to no respect for his b*****d daughter.
Sylvannas promised them the Capitol City if Garithos and the remnants of Lordaeron would help her take it from the dreadlords. Believing that Sylvannas had truly been freed from the Lich King's grasp, Garithos decided to trust her, since the elves and humans were once allies despite Garithos' misgivings towards them.
His trust was terribly misplaced, however, as once they had taken back Lordaeron, the Banshee queen turned on him and the last remnants of Lordaeron and killed them in cold blood. Cayene, her eyes filled with tears after witnessing the violent execution of her father, fled into Tirisfal glades, but she was chased down. It seemed that the Dark Lady was intent on erasing every trace of Lordaeron nobility, as they hunted Cayene tirelessly. It wasn't long before she was pounced on by a forsaken rogue from behind, her throat slit and left to die alone in the cold forests of Tirisfal.
Cayene lay on the cold muddy earth, her eyes glazed over with death, a pool of blood soaking into the dirt around her. Her life was leaving her, and she felt incredible despair. All was lost: Lordaeron, her father, and even her own life. Just when she was ready to give up and forsake the light entirely, she felt a cold hand press against her head.
"Do no despair, child. Death will not be the end for you," were the last words she heard before the darkness consumed her and she plunged into the realm of death.
She woke an unknown amount of time later in Naxxramas, surrounded by necromancers from the Cult of the Damned. They had raised her as an undead, and she looked around in confusion. She was told that the scourge were nothing but mindless slaves of the Lich King, but she quickly learned that she still retained all of her faculties. She looked down at her corpse-like body with despair, feeling she had been cursed for an eternity.
"Do not be afraid, Cayene. You have been brought back for a specific purpose. The Lich King has great use for you. Consider this as a gift, not a curse. You will learn much from your time here." A voice spoke to her. She looked behind her, and before her was a terrifying, floating skeletal being. It was the lich Kel'thuzad.
Kel'thuzad explained to her many things. He explained to her the history of the Lich King, the Burning Legion, and the meaning behind her resurrection and the existence of the scourge. Being a priest, she was at first hesitant, but Kel'thuzad explained to her that the light and shadow were merely two halves of the same whole, and those who rejected one for the sake of the other were ignorant fools.
He also told her that the Lich King, and perhaps the light itself, had chosen her to be a Herald of the Lich King. Her family name gave her some sway among the remaining nobles of Lordaeron, even among the Forsaken. She was to go to Lordaeron and spread the word of the Lich King, and to gather those who were still loyal to Lordaeron and Arthas to join the Scourge. With her help, Lordaeron would be reborn under King Arthas, and together they would all bring forth a new age of undead, creating a force powerful enough to stand against the Burning Legion itself.
Cayene sensed a tremendous renewal of the Light within her after hearing these words. She surged with holy energy, her faith renewed ten fold. She embraced Kel'thuzad, to his surprise, then fell to her knees before him.
"I accept wholeheartedly. I will be your most faithful servant, and I promise to return Lordaeron to it's rightful ruler." She said, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Pledge your loyalty not to me, but your King." He told her, and she nodded.
Together they went to the Lich King and Cayene pledged her loyalty and service to him. He assigned to her several retainers, and put her under the tutelage and authority of Ricolne Blackwood, a Scourgelord who had onced served as a retainer of Prince Arthas himself, and also Cayene's uncle.
Their first mission came from Kel'thuzad, who told them of a noble family in the western plaguelands who had become troublesome as of late. The Barov family was a wealthy family with control over much land, one who Cayene was familiar with and who she held much resentment for. The family had outlived it's usefulness and needed to be replaced with a more loyal noble family. Kel'thuzad ordered the new Heralds of the Scourge to completly wipe out the Barov's so that they could never claim Cael Darrow again. Cayene eagerly agreed, acquiring the aid of some adventurers through trickery, and having them barge into Scholomance and kill the Barov's residing there.
After all of this, Cayene declared herself Lady Cayene Garithos of Cael Darrow and claimed the fortress as her own. From this place the remainder of her operations would be carried out. Soon, she would have Lordaeron reunited, either voluntarily or by force. She preferred the latter, hoping to one day see the Dark Lady punished for betraying Cayene and her Father Othmar, and most importantly for betraying the true king of Lordaeron, Arthas.
Kettoh · Tue Mar 02, 2021 @ 01:40am · 0 Comments |
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The forest was aflame, and all Rafael could see was fire in every direction. With one hand, he pulled his woolen cloak around his face, and with the other he gripped his sword tightly, his eyes scanning through the trees and black smoke. He wasn't looking for a way out, but rather, he was following someone.
Dante, that b*****d. Not only had he attacked Rafael's village in the middle of the night, but he'd stolen his woman too. Now the coward had fled into the fire that he and his men had started, thinking that they would get away with their spoils. There was no way Rafael was going to stand for this. Being the heir to the chiefdom, he had a reputation to uphold.
"Stop running, Dante! It's no use!" He said, running through a wall of flame into a small clearing. Two men attacked him, and he cut them down in a fury one after the other, leaving them bloody corpses in his wake.
"Forgive me... Master..." One of them spoke, reaching a bloody hand upward towards Dante, who was now face to face with Rafael.
Rafael regarded Dante. It was the first time he'd seen him so close. A prince of a rival neighboring tribe, young and boyish, not unlike Rafael himself.
Dante held his sword out before him, sweat pouring down his face. Strands of blonde hair hung over his steely blue eyes, which glared fixingly at Rafael.
"Rafael!" Jean cried out from behind the blonde prince, her red and white dress stained with soot and dirt, her pretty face baring the same tarnish. This was the woman that Dante had stolen.
"Silence, girl!" Dante snapped back at her. "Rafael, go back to your village! The girl is mine, you don't deserve her!"
"Ha! What would you know? You think you can attack my village and get away without any consequences? Get real!"
"Your people are brutish, and stupid, like you. She'd have a much better life in a castle, married to a prince. What can you do for her in your village of mud and huts?"
"Do you think I care about any of that? This is a matter of principle! You can't simply take what isn't yours!"
"Principle? What would you know of principle? You're a savage!" Dante attacked, slashing skillfully at Rafael, who was forced backwards a step. Their two swords clashed, parrying and slashing at one another without avail, neither of them able to gain the advantage. Jean watched on with wide eyes, grinding her teeth anxiously, crawling clumsily out of the way when the fight moved close to her. "Give up and keep your life! I've trained my whole life in swordsmanship, you can't win."
"Train all you like, you're still nothing but a weak, snot-nosed little coward!" Rafael slashed downward, and Dante raised his sword to parry, but this time it was a feint. Rafael redirected his blade, slicing downwards towards his enemy's wrist. There was a cry, a splash of blood, and the sound of a sword hitting the forest floor.
Dante staggered back, holding a bloody stump where his hand use to be, blood soaking into his tunic sleeve as his face turned a ghostly white.
"My... My hand!" He fell backwards and squirmed away from Rafael, who now stood over him, his silver blade gleaming orange in the firelight, dripping blood from it's tip.
Rafael looked down at the defeated knight. He could tell that he was afraid by the way he dragged himself away like some desperate animal. He knew that if he let him get away, he would likely come back later seeking revenge. Rafael's tribe wouldn't be happy.
"Get up! Get out of here, you idiot!" Rafael said, kicking some dirt onto Dante and swinging his sword in front of him. "You lost. It's over."
Dante squinted at him with suspicion, as if this was some kind of trick. He got to his feet, backing away swiftly. He turned to Jean, then to Rafael again.
"I won't forget this!" He said, and not in a good way, before turning and sprinting into the woods, quickly disappearing into the smoke and fire.
"Hey, you forgot your hand." Rafael said quietly, smirking at his own humor. His vanity was interrupted suddenly when he felt something collide with his midsection.
"Rafael!" Jean said, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head into his chest. Rafael rested his arm on her back, blinking at her. "You saved me."
"What do you mean, 'saved you'? I was just getting revenge for the village, that's all! You're just lucky they didn't kill you, or a tree didn't fall on you or som-" He got cut off as she lunged at his face, trying to claw out his eyes, "OW! Hey, watch it woman!"
"Don't say that! Don't pretend you didn't come here to save me! Admit it!"
"Never!"
She went after his face again, and he grabbed her wrists, laughing at her as she struggled against him. Then, a burning tree fell nearby, causing them both to jump and shout.
"We're not out of danger. We should get out of here." Rafael said, suddenly becoming more serious. Jean nodded eagerly.
"Yes, but we're going to talk about this when we get back to the village."
"Yeah, whatever. Let's go." Rafael grabbed her hand and lead her towards the trees. "Here, take this." He pulled off his cloak and put it around her. "It's gonna be hot, but follow me and you'll be fine." Jean nodded, and he lead her through the burning wood back to the village.
The battle was over, and all that was left was to rebuild, and put these damn fires out. Rafael cursed under his breath.
"What a mess!"
The End
Kettoh · Tue Mar 02, 2021 @ 01:38am · 0 Comments |
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Sienna burst through the cathedral doors, her long black hair in tangles, tears streaming out of her brown eyes down her pale face. Blood soaked her brown robe at the abdomen, which she held with her arm as more blood continued to drip and leave a trail behind her.
She used the rows of pews as support as she made her way to the altar, falling to her knees before the mighty cross which hung from the slate colored stone wall, framed by red and gold tapestries. The image of Christ looked down at her, and she looked up at it with pleading eyes, her hands folded in prayer.
Outside a battle ensued, and cries of death and victory sounded into the open cathedral door. Figures ran back and forth across the doorway, until finally a group of warriors entered, dressed in chain mail and wielding bloody swords and shields.
"Witch! Your time has come! No more running!"
Sienna kept her eyes on her savior, praying.
"Lord, I have always been your faithful servant. I beg of you, please protect me!"
Sienna was raised in an orphanage, her parents likely descended from peasantry. Despite her circumstances, she always found joy and hope in the stories of the nuns who raised her and in her holy book. When she was 12, she had an ecclesiastical vision and was called to devote her life to God. She believed she was chosen specifically, and that God truly cared for her and loved her. She believed if she followed him faithfully, she would be rewarded.
So she served faithfully, day after day, night after night, working at the church in various ways, often doing menial tasks like cleaning or doing laundry. She was worked hard, but she told herself it was in the service and God, and that God had a plan for her. God would save her from the orphanage, give her a better life, and make her happy.
Now she hoped God would answer her prayer, but the statue stared blankly at her as warriors approached from behind her.
"God? Are you there?"
No answer.
She felt something sharp pierce her back and chest, and looked down to see a gleaming, bloody sword sticking out of the left side of her chest. It was agony, but it was short-lived. Her eyes fluttered and she collapsed. The warrior stepped on her back, ripping the sword from her with a spurt of blood, then went with his allies to rejoin the battle outside.
Final thoughts whispered in Sienna's mind.
How could this be? Why would God do this to her? Was she already in hell?
You have been forsaken. A voice spoke to her from the void.
What? Who's there?
God doesn't love you. He never loved you. He's indifferent to your suffering. You were put here to die.
No... Lies!
Then how do you explain your current circumstances? You've devoted your entire life to God, only to be killed like some animal, alone and in obscurity. Would a loving God do that to you?
Sienna couldn't move, and her mind was fading, but something swelled in her. How was it possible? Wasn't she dead? What she felt was anger.
Yes... You understand, don't you? Your faith was misplaced. Your sweet, innocent soul was wasted in the hands of God. You could have had a fulfilling life if only you had lived for yourself instead. It's not too late.
Not... Too late?
No... I find your innocence and your faith endearing. You have much more potential than you think, if only you pledge yourself to a God worthy of your faith. Would you do that?
A different... God? But there is only one God!
Wrong, there are many gods. Many gods, with many different gifts to give you. Why don't you try it and see? Renounce your faith to your god, pledge your faith and your soul to me, and I will give you the power to achieve the life you desire.
I... She felt her mind slipping into the abyss.
Hurry, child! There is not much time! Your life is leaving you!
Anger surged inside of Sienna. A god that would do this to her truly was evil. She hated that god. She gave everything for him, and got a dog's death for it.
I do it! I renounce my god and pledge my soul to you!
Good, child, very good. Now rise and take your vengeance!
Sienna could suddenly see through her eyes again, and she felt her heart beating. She stood up, feeling her chest to find there was no longer any wound. Flames grew at her feet, and rose up her body, but they did not burn her.
The warriors heard the crackling behind them, and turned to see Sienna standing there in flames.
"What in God's name?!"
Kill them!
Sienna answered the voice, pointing her palms towards the men and sending a spiral of flame at them, setting them alight. They screamed in agony as their flesh boiled and popped inside of their armor.
"How does it feel?! This is what you get! This is what you get for hurting me!" Sienna shouted, tears, streaming down her face.
"Please! Mercy! Mercy! O Lord!" they cried.
Their pleas made Sienna increase the intensity of her flames, and their screams got louder, until they began to quiet into whimpers, and then into silence and all that remained were charred husks of men smoking on the chapel floor.
Sienna breathed heavily before falling to her knees and bursting into tears.
Now now, child, wipe away your tears... You have nothing to be ashamed of.
Sienna sniffled, and a shadowy, corpreal hand with long slender fingers materialized before her face, stroking her cheek and wiping her tears.
You need never be scared again, for I shall always walk with you. I will be like your shadow, and so long as you serve me, I will love and protect you for as long as you live.
"Y-you really mean that?"
Of course, my dear. I will guide you, and with my assistance, all of your wildest dreams will come true. Now first, we must escape this place. Unfortunately, this kindgom is lost, but there is another across the sea, and there lives a handsome prince who is the heir to that kingdom. Would you like to come meet him with me?
"Me? Meet a prince?!"
Why yes, of course. Do you not trust me after all of this? Or do you not believe yourself worthy to meet a prince? I assure you, you are more than worthy. I chose you for a reason. You are very special, Sienna.
"Ah- Haha! Hahaha!" She grinned from ear to ear, then covered her face in her hands. "I can't believe it."
Believe it. Now let us go, and quickly! This way!
A gust of wind rushed past her and out the door, despite their being no where for it to have come from. She stood up quickly and ran, following where this wind blew her with absolute faith.
Kettoh · Tue Mar 02, 2021 @ 01:35am · 0 Comments |
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