Forums

All That Glitters

Quick find code: 49-50-141-62839310

Arkkataka

Arkkataka

Posts: 4,327 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Very good, I've noticed you seem to give it from the perspective of someone (Daren) who doesn't know what's going on but is curious which you do well enough.

I'd request that you relate the beginning to this sometime though :) not as much advice as my own preference though so change it as you have planned

05-Jun-2011 21:00:36

Lokintr
Dec Member 2014

Lokintr

Posts: 2,432 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Author's Notes on Chapter Four:


OK. A few things worth mentioning.

1) I've never attempted to write a big battle war type scene thing so this is a first. I don't think it's that great and I'll be editing it a lot probably.

2) Throughout this I'm trying to not say a character's name until it's spoken through someone else's dialogue, so ... this is horribly confusing. And without revealing too much the whole name thing is kinda important. So yeah. ¬¬

3) This chapter really sucks. I'm so sorry.

14-Jun-2011 17:28:51 - Last edited on 14-Jun-2011 17:36:20 by Lokintr

Lokintr
Dec Member 2014

Lokintr

Posts: 2,432 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Chapter Four:


People had always warned him that eventually he would meet the kraken, and that it would swallow him whole should he let it. He had laughed at them, confident but naive, comfortably aware of the power that filled him to the point of overflowing. He had travelled the length of Gielinor to unlock them; the bonds within his mind had snapped with little encouragement. Now, a few years later, he was regarded as brilliant.

That fateful day his reputation weighed heavily on his young shoulders. His peers looked to him for reassurance; at his side they felt safe, thought that in the presence of a master no harm would befall them. The real master, their leader, stood with them, lips tight with anxiety; they dared not mention it, but all of them were afraid. Power was heavy in the air, crackling like the sky before a storm, the deep breath before the plunge.

A lazy breeze stirred the air, scattering lacy shreds of smoke drifting from the torches around the walls. The sluggish sun skulked along the western horizon, staining the sky a rusty vermillion. As tiny stars winked into life above them, diamonds studded on the indigo velvet of the sky, shadows creeping like spilled ink across the ground before the wall, they advanced. Their numbers were few, yet the danger they posed was unimaginable, for one among then was not human.

Their approach was slow, languid, creeping forward like the inexorable tide at midnight. Robed in black, faces obscured by cowls, they were an intimidating sight; their silence contributed to the aura of fear that emanated in great waves towards the walls. About fifty feet from the walls, they stopped, forming a perfect line. Two stood apart, about another twenty feet behind.

A voice rang out, authoritative, commanding, full of self-assured power.

“Mages of Yanille! You have no chance here to resist us. Our magic is superior, our knowledge greater, and our demands are simple.

14-Jun-2011 17:29:01 - Last edited on 24-Jun-2011 17:42:40 by Lokintr

Lokintr
Dec Member 2014

Lokintr

Posts: 2,432 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
This academy retains many ancient records. We wish to have them. Comply, or be destroyed.”

Heads turned on the wall, fearful eyes turning towards the Master. He swallowed nervously, his jaw tight. “You trespass and request that which can never be given. It is sacred knowledge that we hold here, to be seen only by those who are worthy. We are the guardians of that ancient lore. And you? You are unworthy. You shall not pass these walls! And though you may try, you shall not beat us, for we are many and our power strong. We shall fight to our last breaths and we shall succeed.”

“Brave words from a coward. Look how he hides behind his students! An old man, his strength lessened by the plague of age. Watch him fall, but only after he sees the death of the children he calls mages.”

“Listen not. They speak only lies. Trust in me and in your strength!” The Master turned away from the silent myrmidons outside. His old grey beard rippled in the wind, his fingers clenched tightly around the wizened staff in his fist. “Prepare,” he said quietly, words only for those around him. “Prepare to fight. Remember your teaching; you are all capable of victory. You.”

Eyes slid to the side, to the young boy. He grimaced, realising again the burden of his reputation.

“You are our most skilled. You shall slay many this night.” The Master grinned. “To glory.”

They all turned back to the battlements.

“Fools!” cried the commanding voice. “None shall survive. Think carefully!”

“We have thought and decided!” the Master said, a strange, invigorating tone in his voice. “Prepare to die, fiend!”

And with a tremendous yell, he spun his staff in a wide arc, magnificent blue flames spilling from the glowing sapphire at its tip, nestling in its nest of twigs. Sparks of magic flowed down the gnarled knots of the wood and into the tangled roots at the end, bursting into stunning conflagrations of azure and cerulean.

14-Jun-2011 17:29:11 - Last edited on 14-Jun-2011 20:38:29 by Lokintr

Quick find code: 49-50-141-62839310 Back to Top