Writing Prompts/Story (M for F)

Started by MagicalPen, February 28, 2016, 12:32:23 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

MagicalPen


Gori Ironhair was alone.

He did not notice the pain from his wounds or his blood soaked clothes. He did not notice the gashes in his armor and tunic that would need repairing. He did not notice that he was out of Throwing Axes and that his Battleaxe had a large nick in its edge. No, these things he did not notice. What he did notice was the complete and utter silence of being alone.

He was surrounded by other Dwarves of course. All of them laying in the grotesque forms of death. Blood still steamed from the fatal gashes of many in the cool air. They were all recently departed. But the final attack of the Dragonslayer Clan had worked. Gori Ironhair was alone but he also stood face to face with the Gates of Ashenwood.

The Gates of Ashenwood were not nearly as impressive in person as they were in the tales he had been told as a youngster. Only the Dragon Guard ever had access to the Gates and what lay beyond them. Yes, the carvings of the 'Outside World' were intricate and impressive, but the Gates themselves were really no bigger than any other door he had ever seen. But that was the last thing he was thinking about as he stared at them.

It was what lay beyond that had frozen Gori. But he had made it this far and he wasn't going to turn back now. He didn't have a choice really. Everyone else was dead. Everyone. The remains of the Dragon Guard lay at his feet. And Firesides Finest. The Darkside Raiders. Gori himself was a Soldier of the Dark Watch. He had been one of 12 who had survived the initial attack. One of six that had made it back to Firesides Bastion. He had been the only survivor from the Dark Watch that made it out of the Bastion, along with a ragtag band of the Finest and a dozen other units. He supposed he should consider it an honor to have been included in with the Dragon Guard but it had been a suicide mission from the start. Ever since all the women and children....

He shook his head to clear it. No, he wasn't to dwell on those things. King Yuri Dragonslayer himself lay closest to the Gates, face contorted in a grimace of death. One hand still reached for the Gates though it was missing nearly half its fingers and palm. Those lay not far away, with a now bloodied satchel. The Satchel. Gori's eyes fixated on it. Staring at it seemed to warm his insides, to loosen his oh so tired muscles. The Satchel. It was no longer his duty to protect the Satchel but to deliver it. But he had never stepped outside before. Could he do it?

The sound of metal raking against stone, of thousands of feet marching in unison, echoed up the hallway towards him. Without looking back, he bolted forward and grabbed the Satchel, slinging it over his shoulder before throwing his weight against the Gate. Rusting Hinges that had not been opened in untold years screeched in protest but slowly started to budge. Tired muscles drained of blood as he threw everything he had left into it. Slowly, the Gate of Ashenwood opened. It opened just enough for his tired body to slip through the gap. He threw all his weight into his back, pushing the Gate closed. A rusting bar of Iron caught his attention and he grabbed it, sliding it through the equally strong handles on this side of the door.

He doubled over then, catching his breath, before looking around. He seemed to be at the end of a mineshaft. So much for all those tales he had heard. Well, there could still be some truth to them. The first thuds sounded behind him as THEY reached the Gate, setting his heart to panic mode again. It was time to get moving.

"Come on, Gori." He says aloud to himself. "Time to go on that adventure you always wanted." Straightening up and regaining some of his pride, Gori set off along the old mine tracks, following a slope that started to rise and rise towards the surface.

My On and Offs
When the Ink Runs Dry

Looking/Available for New Games

MagicalPen


Konrad Roht rolled out of his bed and crashed onto the floor. The skull-numbing sound of the ships evacuation sirens going off had certainly woken him up.

He groaned, covering his ears for a few seconds before he was fully awakened and realized just what that meant. The Ships AI voice, the normally soothing tone of a female, was calmly telling all occupants to seek the nearest Escape Pod in an orderly manner and evacuate. This was NOT a drill.

Cursing his luck, Konrad quickly pulled his clothes back on and slipped into his boots. He grabbed his gun belt, wrapping it around his waist, his Armalite Pistol ready to go. If they had been boarded then perhaps there were enemy combatants onboard. Nonetheless, he had no idea what the hell was happening. All he knew was he had to get to an escape pod!

Emergency lighting and flashing lights guided him to the nearest Escape Pod. He noticed that half were already gone but the hallway was oddly quiet. It was 0300 of course so most people would be in their quarters. He shook the thought from his head and climbed in.

He started the launch sequence as he strapped in, feeling like he was entombed in the heavily padded interior of the launch shell. He only had a few moments to wonder where the hell he was before the g-force pressed him deep into the chair, his lungs feeling like they were about to collapse, as the Escape Pod launched him from the ship.

My On and Offs
When the Ink Runs Dry

Looking/Available for New Games