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~*Illuminating Shadows*~

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Parakarry267

Parakarry267

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Neat, Poller. Neat. That someone was right -- it's not cluttered like CW was. It seems like a good story, though I wouldn't give it many points in the originality department. Despite that, you do write it well. Keep on it. ^_^
Unless you write in something that changes it to a more advanced rating, the SRA rating for this is AT.
Also, one last thing... I don't feel a big connection to Halldor. I mean, yeah, he was dishonored and all, but... well, I don't feel that much for him. Basically, what I'm saying is that I want you to fix that, but I'm not sure how... :| :@

24-Mar-2008 22:13:17

Poller5
Dec Member 2023

Poller5

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If you were a Fremennik, you understand :P Hmm... Good point, though. It's sort of hard to liken his depression from being dishonoured to something we could relate to, though...
Hmm, I'll work on that, I guess :\

24-Mar-2008 22:15:52

Poller5
Dec Member 2023

Poller5

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~*Chapter Four: A Weaselly Mage*~
Lacerus walked silently down the hallways of the underground complex, his red silk robes swirling around him. No one else was in the halls, no one ever was, especially not on the eve of a fight. Everyone would either be resting in their rooms or squeezing in some last minute practice in the gym. He sighed as he thought of the amount of blood that would be spilled the next day, so very much, but never enough to quench the population's thirst.
He sighed as he walked on, and before he allowed his mind to wander to the less pleasant details of the next day's fights, he brought his mind to the task at hand. His destination was the training gym; his interest in the man Roghr had described had become too great over the past few days and he felt a need to see him in action before the fight. After all, there was a great chance the man would die on the morrow.
The sound of metal on metal assaulted his ears long before he saw the great gates that marked the entrance to the training gym, and a rare smile found itself on his face. This was the one place in the complex where the burdens of imprisonment did not reach, the one place where the prisoners could fight and forget all else, fight and not worry for their lives. The one place that, for a little while, they might be free.
He passed through the gates of the gym unhindered, for though he was not a common site there, most of the complex's guards knew him, or at least of him. He was surprised to see how full the gym was, but it was one odd pair that caught his eye. Roghr, squared up against a human closer to seven feet than six, fighting ferociously with his mighty warhammer. While many battles raged within the gym, this was by far the most intense, and Lacerus was fairly sure he was correct in assuming that this was the man that Roghr had mentioned to him. Truly he would be a mighty ally, providing he survived the following day.

25-Mar-2008 22:25:05

Poller5
Dec Member 2023

Poller5

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Soon the furious pace of the battle slackened, and after a few more minutes of slower fighting the combatants finally stepped away from each other, eyeing each other warily. Had Lacerus been more inclined towards hand-to-hand combatant, he probably would have clapped or shown some other recognition of their prowess; his eyes, however, gleamed with an impressed light, more than most fighters could hope for from the mage.
"Five fights, you say?" Halldór asked the dwarf standing opposite him, who had, over the course of the past few days, informed him of everything he would need to know for the fight.
"Aye," the dwarf grunted. "But none should be too difficult: you outclass all your opponents. Rarely has a slave shown as much potential as have you." The Fremennik accepted the compliment with a smile before his eyes wandered to the mage, his robes setting him out from the warriors in the room.
"A mage?" he grunted. "What's a filthy, weaselly mage doing here?" Roghr sighed: while expected, the Fremennik's initial reaction to the mage was less favorable than he had hoped.
"Yes, a mage, and one you'd do well to fear," he said, his voice suddenly dropping, his light-hearted manner disappearing in a heartbeat. "He could kill you a dozen times before you managed to draw your sword."
Halldór grunted and walked back to the weapon cabinet where he deposited his sword before a couple guards flanked him and took him back to his cell. Roghr walked over to Lacerus, whose visage had changed from one of respect for the Fremennik's fighting prowess to one of distaste. "I told you it'd never work," he verily growled at the dwarf.
"Give him time," the dwarf said, half optimistically and half realistically. "I daresay he'll warm up to you soon enough."
"Perhaps," Lacerus said. Privately he noted that he would also need time to "warm up to" the massive barbarian.

25-Mar-2008 22:25:23 - Last edited on 25-Mar-2008 22:50:27 by Poller5

Poller5
Dec Member 2023

Poller5

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This was not going to work without a lot of leniency from both sides; they were polar opposites of each other, and Lacerus was having his doubts already.
"He's your only option," Roghr stated bluntly before exiting the gym, leaving Lacerus alone with his thoughts. The dwarf spoke the truth, he admitted to himself, for only the gods knew how long it would be before another option presented itself to him. Still, to trust this… barbarian, and to have the Fremennik trust him; it was going to be one of the greatest challenges of his life. Still, what was life without a challenge or two?
Resolved, he returned to his chambers.

25-Mar-2008 22:26:03

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