podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 12 Mar 2012 11:03 PM |
(I'll do one paragraph everyday, or try to.) You, and many other disheveled figures line the narrow spaces of the long corridor. As you hear footsteps echoing nearer, you lift up your head. Captive by aged stone walls of rock, a horrid stench hangs in the air, testaments to the dead or dying lying on the dusty floor beneath you. As the steps grow nearer, you begin decipher the silhouette traversing down the hallway. This was courtesy of the dim light given by an array of torches, impaled in man-made depressions in the surrounding walls. It is your friend Hadrian, and he gives you a weak greeting, replied by your equally powerful gesture. He stops to squat beside you, and begins to explain his repetitive misgivings; usually accompanying them with fierce anger.
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 12 Mar 2012 11:09 PM |
| (Oh yes, feedback would be much appreciated.) |
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Riku1257
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| Joined: 15 Aug 2011 |
| Total Posts: 10066 |
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| 12 Mar 2012 11:12 PM |
| (Can I get a timeframe, other than that it's very vivid in my opinion, seems a lot like something I would write,and, or publish once finished.) |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 12 Mar 2012 11:14 PM |
| (Thanks, I've been reading Don Quixote recently, wanted to practice what I've read. Yes, I'm going to explain more backstory tomorrow in the second paragraph.) |
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Riku1257
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| Joined: 15 Aug 2011 |
| Total Posts: 10066 |
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| 12 Mar 2012 11:17 PM |
| (OH! I've heard of that book! The main character is insane right? From reading books of chivalry?) |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 12 Mar 2012 11:23 PM |
| (Yep, and he managed to persuade a fat peasant of his, named Sancho Panza, to abandon his wife and children for a position as his squire.) |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 13 Mar 2012 08:25 PM |
"Damn King Jarmal, too bold to retreat! He has doomed us all!" Hadrian yells recklessly. The beings around you that once looked frozen in time now appear active, attracted to the scene. "Calm down, friend! Your head can be taken for those remarks!" You hiss, trying to stop his madness. "I don't care anymore, brother, we have no option but to die here within these walls, in our own capital. The kingdom-OUR KINGDOM, no longer reigns supreme among the High Council of Nations. We will perish in vain trying to defend the remnants of what was once Cordite." He retorts sharply, putting his head in his hands and crumpling to the floor. Muffled sobbing could be heard from him, and you now feel a sudden pity wash over your. "Friend, as least we die with the knowledge that we did not abandon our homeland-"
"Forget our homeland! It was apparent it had already fallen by the time the inner cities had been conquered! We end our lives knowing we could not do more! I have wife and kids in the city, praying that they shan't be obliterated by a barrage of flames from the armies which now surround us!" He suddenly interrupts, jumping back onto his feet. A long silence enters the hallway, and Hadrian returns to the floor. "We still have so much to lose. I guess the King never understood that." He comments dejectedly. You begin to comprehend his words. "I guess he didn't. Now we will die here today, either by the enemy or by our comrades." You reply, turning to face him. |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 15 Mar 2012 11:33 PM |
Silence once again begins to fill the room, and a dreary melancholy lies upon both your spirits. "Well, I'm setting off for the battlements. I wish you whatever good fortune that is left, my friend." Hadrian says as he tightens the fastenings on his heavy leather vest. It's ragged texture and fluffed ends are exaggerated by the torchlight. You wish him well as he begins to wander back down the winding halls, finally disappearing into the distance.
The faint siren of a bugle horn above awakens you from your slumber, and you proceed clear your eyes of wax with your fists. You curse yourself silently at sleeping during a siege, but quickly get back onto your feet. Retying the sheath of your idle sword to your belt, others being to awake around you, also provoked by the droning of the bugle. The sudden thought that Hadrian is patrolling the castle walls at this moment invigorates you, and you break into the run, quickly making a beeline to a way to the top of the battlements. As you mount the spiraling steps that lead to the ramparts, your ears catch wind of shouting. "ATTACK, ATTACK! HARK! THE ENEMY HAVE COME AGAIN! HELP! HELP!" |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 16 Mar 2012 04:29 PM |
You now draw your sword, alarmed that the enemy might actually take the walls, after so many lives had been lost to hold it from them. Reaching the top of the stairwell, you can see through an open doorway the battle that ensued; men trying hopelessly with their weapons to fight for their cause. As you step outside to join the battle, the rungs of an improvised ladder loops into an embrasure in the wall parapet, men clad in chain-mail and short-swords proceeding to scale it. They quickly begin to pour over the stone walls like a tidal wave, yelling war-cries and banging their wooden round-shields; trying to instill fear into your comrades.
One man of this group take a horizontal slash with his sword, gutting a defender that stood before him. You quickly retaliate to avenge your kinsmen's death, stabbing your sword into the warrior's back. As it's sharp tip pierces into his chain-mail, you pivot your wrist, slicing through sinew and bone. The man lets out a guttural cry of pain as you retrieve your sword, collapsing onto the floor in a pool of blood. Feeling no pity for your victim, you eagerly take his shield, giving a quick moment of respect to the fellow compatriot that had died likewise by his hand.
At that moment, you spot your very best friend once more, Hadrian, now lying on the ground, an arrow protruding from his chest. As you venture nearer, his eyes appear glassy but active, blood regurgitating from his mouth. "Hadrian!" You call, trying to coax his attention. He attempts to utter words, only to be perceived as gibberish. You resolve that nothing can save him, his injury too great to recover from. To your predictions, his eyes roll, the palpitating of his chest now stopping. You brush your hand over his face to close his eyelids, and then continue to battle.
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 16 Mar 2012 11:17 PM |
| (Bumping the post up for more feedback.) |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
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| 17 Mar 2012 11:29 PM |
That day, the East Wall was almost overrun. Now, as you sit on the floor of a makeshift infirmary, back against the wall, you begin to recollect the days events. The pure adrenaline of the afternoon's fighting had put you in an amnesic stupor.
After you realized the death of your friend Hadrian, a unit of what your later realized to be as Balaric Dismounted Men-in-Arms had began to scale the wall. The band that had mounted the ladder before them were scouts, thinking the East Wall to be ill-defended. They intended to slowly begin gaining control of the city after the walls had been captured, but instead ran into a militia patrol at dawn. The warning that invaders had come again pulled the whole defending peasant draft garrison into high alert. Though ill-armed and trained, these defenders immediately began to overwhelm this patrol, who in turn sought for their heavy shock troops. The slaughter had then begun.
The Balaric Men-in-Arms, wielding great-sword's and heavy maces, started to pour over the wall; chaos coming about your ranks as they were massacred. If the trained sergeants of your side had not kept the guard tower of the East Wall, all would have been lost.
As you look up, you catch a glance through the window in front of you. The infirmary, having been situated at an angle to get a view of the late East Wall, gave a clear picture of the aftermath you managed to flee from. Men could be seen among the piles of blood-strewn corpses and dismembered limbs, members of the Sergeants who-as you believe-had fought valiantly to keep the wall so lustily wanted by the enemy. Yet now, they were hastily discarding your fallen brethren over the inner side of the parapet like degenerate scum. Bodies of your comrades then began to rain down from above like a hail-storm, landing in a newly-dug pyre at the bottom of the wall.
A sudden anger washes over you, and for an instant you feel like ripping the noble heroes that stand erect atop you apart; limb by limb. At that point, however, you discover how fatigued you are, and pass out.
(A hasty ending, really.) |
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LoganB
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| Joined: 18 Apr 2008 |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 18 Mar 2012 06:09 PM |
Awakening from the black dank of your dreamless sleep, you find yourself in a familiar shack, surrounding you with surprisingly spacious walls of dried mud brick. As you further observe the room, a similarly familiar women stoops over a brass water-filled basin, her back facing towards you. It is Chastity, the former wife of your deceased friend. Presently, she turns around to face you, a damp rag in hand. Alerted by your consciousness, she says:
"Finally, you've awoken."
"What do you mean? I've merely been napping for a few hours."
"You are wrong, you have been in a delirious state for almost a week."
"In the name of God! You are not telling a lie? Are you?"
"I'm afraid not. We've managed to hold the castle, but the walls are in good condition."
After slight hesitation, you look solemnly into Chastity's auburn eyes.
"Have you heard about-"
"Yes..." She shuts them for a moment, then resumes the conversation.
"He was a good man and a faithful husband. I was hoping his passing would not have been in battle." Chastity was not as emotional to cry like most, but often displayed a strong mental sadness. You begin to worry. At her late Uncle's death she had fallen into a terrible depression; now you imagine the consequence of Hadrian's death.
(Would anyone like to vote for a name, if some have read the story? It could e male or female. I have not described how you look yet, so you really have free will.) |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 18 Mar 2012 10:18 PM |
| (Hmmm, Nah, it's late, I'll do another section tomorrow.) |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 19 Mar 2012 09:02 PM |
| (Does no one have ANY feedback? I'm kinda losing confidence in this story.) |
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podraptor
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| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
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| 01 Apr 2012 05:32 PM |
Dear Giseppe,
Much time has past since we have last seen each other, but I come to you in much need of assistance. As you recall, old friend, twenty years ago I associated myself with the Kingdom of Kordanan. I came, in desperation, to this place in hopes of starting a new future, and settled down with a farmer named Hadrian. Hadrian has become my dear friend, and recently passed away. I was happy and outgoing then, yet now I had realized so gravely my mistake.
You must have heard that this once great nation has fallen to the hands of corruption; nobles once loyal have abandoned their patriotism, and plunged the country into civil war. Their cruelty has caused a great uprising, and because of this I find myself in the loyalist's last bastion of defense; the great capital itself. You can see that I have plunged myself recklessly into a mess whereby I am not involved, and that my foolishness has come back to haunt me unceasingly. I am afraid I shall perish with my recently fallen comrade.
So, friend, I have come to explain my predicament to you, and now I bring you my request. I want you to smuggle me out of the back gates of the city. Although the enemy surrounds us, they do not watch the back entrance so keenly as the front. One small caravan may be able to make a quick route in and out. This way, I would like you to transport me across the land-in hiding-to the Yellow Canal, in hopes that I may survive this bloody conflict.
Do not doubt the peril the fall of Kordanan brings to all of us. As the nobles slowly take the capital, they shall push northwards, to your homelands. Soon but sure enough, we will all be in mortal danger. I beg of you to bring your family along with me in order to escape. I have trusted sources of reports that the remnants of the old army (which did not defect to the nobles) are funding a last attempt to get off the mainland with refugees. They will head west to the colonial islands in safety, I am hoping we shall to.
If you decide not to take up my offer and my plea, then I will not be angry. I respect your decisions, for your family and your pride. However, if you conclude in leaving what's left of Kordanan, travel to the back walls of the capital in a fortnight from now; we shall travel to safety to the Yellow Canal. |
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