I am thinking about writing some more stuff for this forum and thought it would be cool to write a little bit every day (or couple of days). I would make it up as I went along and see where it went. This would give me practice writing and fleshing out some of my ideas.
What do you guys think?
The memory of the destruction Hreska was nearly forgotten. Save by one man. Others had marked the destruction of Hreska as the beginning of the many ransacking. Some called it evil, some called it the gods’ wrath and others called it fate. But one man called it fun. No one knew what wrought such destruction as to wipe out whole villages and leave only corpses and ashes. Except for one man. That man was Jareth Voz Kusak. He had been burning villages with his monsters for a hundred years. Sure warriors had come to the middle of the wasteland he lived in to try and find him, but they had either been killed by the elements, eaten by his beasts or destroyed by Jareth’s own hand. That usually meant a well placed spell directed from his chamber at the top of his tower.
Jareth’s tower was archaic. It had been built originally over two thousand years ago and the bottom levels had not changed much from the original construction but over the years pieces had been added and refurnished. As one climbed the tower the room became less of stone and wood and more of metal and plaster. The top level was almost state-of-the-art with pneumatic doors and light crystal networks running through the walls. This is where Jareth lived most of his time. Reading and writing some of the time while meditating new campaigns and creatures. Over the years the sorcerer had amassed quite a few creatures. They wondered the chambers of the tower in meaningless existence. He had designed them to go for weeks without sustenance so when he did take them out for a raid they were not weak from starvation. Sometimes they even fed on each other. But Jareth encouraged this. This proved that some monsters were better than others and thus more fit to be used for destruction. When not attending to his various creations, reading or planning Jareth was working with his greatest project yet. Not a creature made from the elements or an intricate spell used to secure his abode. This new project was going to be greater than any of those things and for more evil. Crafting it to meet its desired goal had taken much time and effort but the final stages were just finished. Soon all Jareth would have to do is wait. When the time was right the project would reveal itself and be put to the test. Jareth was certain that it would succeed; he had made it to succeed. It would require great sacrifice on his part but if the project passed its test then it would be worth it. And soon his name would spread beyond the region he lived in to the entire continent and then on to the world. The people of Turak Tul, the southern jaw of the continent Maragna, said that Jareth was a Demonlord. He had the thirst for Dworon blood like no other spirit and would continue to attack villages until the entire world was consumed. They said he left no one alive. And he did; all but one man.
Late one afternoon several days after “the project” had been completed, Jareth sat at his desk writing a variant of an incantation he had found very useful in creating reconstructing flesh. Thunder flashed outside as rain splattered the roof of the tower. Normally a storm of this magnitude would cause quite a bit of noise but Jareth had cast a spell that removed all unnecessary disturbances from outside. Suddenly, a card on a table that held twenty similar cards arraying in a strange but neat formation, flipped over. Jareth looked up at it, at first not remembering what it meant. And then he slammed his book shut, forgetting to let the ink dry, threw his quill unto a shelf and rushed to the card table. The topmost left-hand card had turned around so the intricate design of sorcery could be seen. Finally it had begun. The project had started the test. Jareth shook his hands and grinned but restrained himself from dancing about. Tearing a cloth form a mirror, Jareth wiped his hand across the surface and spoke a single word, “Strukath!” The surface of the mirror turned foggy. Then shapes began to appear. They solidified into a black creature and a crimson-haired man. The creature was scraping at the man with brutal force but the man kept it at bay with a round shield. Unfearing the man bashed the creature backward into the wall. When it stumbled, the man brought his sword forward in a sudden thrust that pinned the monster against the wall. Tearing the blade from the creature’s breast the man turned on another monster that was about to attack. The sorcerer starred into the young man’s face. He had the characteristic high-cheek bones, pointed ears and matching hair and eyes of all Jelves. His face was drawn tight with concentration as he fought for his life against the beasts. Due to the face that Jelves mature at a different rate than humans, one-hundred was considered the beginning of adulthood. The face of the warrior was young but his body was lean and very strong. For one-hundred years Jareth had mentored the boy in the arts of war. But after every session he had wiped his mind of the encounter. He left the lessons but not the memories. What he was looking at was only part of a man. It was a man who had been fed war and hate for his entire life. Behind those blank eyes was a blank soul. A warrior with no conscience. A man who only sought bloodshed. But, unlike his monsters, could think rationally, have emotional responses and be creative. If all went well, the warrior would cut through his beasts and swear his loyalty to Jerath. He may lose a few years of work but he would gain the greatest soldier; a completely sentient, loyal kill-machine.
With a clap Jareth summoned a board that was once used to play a very popular strategy game and some of the broken pieces. The board and pieces laid themselves on the table by themselves. Looking at the arrangement of black and white wooden tokens Jareth could see the locations of his monsters. With a few flicks of his hand he slide the pieces around commanding his army to make way for the white Knight that was sliding down the center of the board toward the black Dryyd. Jareth left several obstacles in the warrior’s way. But as he watched the mirror, the warrior dispatched of his creatures one by one. Then the warrior encountered a large, solid door, and paused. At this point Jareth swept on his cloak, grabbed his green staff from the center of the room and rushed out a side door. He arrived at a balcony overlooking what was once the ballroom. Below him was all shadows and dust. But he stared down intently into the gloom until slowly a door opposite slowly rose from the floor. After grinding its way upward for about a minute it finally creaked to rest in the ceiling. Standing in the doorway with white light streaming in behind him was the warrior. In real life, Jareth could fully see his size and features. Several insignificant wounds covered his arms and legs, blood dripped from a shoulder wound down his well-defined chest. The warrior strode in on bare feet. His legs were clothed with simple brown leggings and from his torso hung the remains of a leather jacket. In his hands he carried a shield and a glowing blue sword. The blue sword hummed and hissed at it moved. The warrior’s face was set. He was willing to do anything to survive. He had done much to survive. Even though his eyes were crimson red like his hair, they were still as blank as a corpse. Everything was going as expected, but it was not over yet.
A shuffling sound came from one corner. The warrior spun around, lifting his shield in that direction. From the shadows emerged another shape which was discernable only because it was darker than the surrounding darkness. A low hiss whispered from the creatures teeth. The warrior lowered his stance. Fear did not show in his eyes, only wariness. As the creature withdrew from its hiding space its claws scraped the floor. A lightning bolt illuminated a section of the hall, revealing the black form of a ghastly monster. This was the same monster that had destroyed Hreska those many years ago. However, its claws were longer and sharper. Its muscles were stronger and lighter. Scales covered its body and tusks jutted from its jaw. If possible it was even more vicious than on the day that it had tried to eat the man who now stood before it. When he saw the monster the warrior began to retreat to the entrance always keeping his shield toward the black monstrosity. But the door was already shut. Jareth waved his staff and whispered a phrase. The door could now never be opened. But the warrior was not trying to open the door he reach out his hand and flicked the light crystal that was by the door controls. Dim white lit began to fill the hall. Section after section lit up until the entire hall was revealed. Now the monster was a black form in a gray world. Very good, Jareth thought to himself. Using the light to his advantage. Very clever.
Jareth squinted against the new glare. Although the tactic was very clever and removed the creatures advantage Jareth deep down did not like the tactic. Now the monster was nearly on the warrior. When Jareth had first created it, it had been only a little smaller than a man but now it was over ten feet tall. Its hand dwarfed the warrior. As it lashed out the warrior dodged back, lifting his shield over his head. The sound of talon on metal rang in the chamber. Again the monster lunged. This time the warrior dodged to the side and the claw only glanced off the shield. As the beast raised itself for another attack the warrior struck first. In a flash the blue sword struck the side of the creature tearing a sizzling hole in its flesh. The beast bellowed and the warrior pranced away barely avoiding the razor sharp claws. In a fury the beast charged the warrior. The warrior neatly sidestepped the charge and swung at the creature again. This time he missed and showing a display of agility unforeseen the creature turned and charged again. The warrior barely had time to dodge to the side and raise his shield. But he did not move far enough. A great palm smashed into the round shield and the warrior was nearly thrown to the ground. Dropping to one knee the warrior lifted his shield and stabbed at the monster’s leg. The flesh sizzled as it burned. The beast roared again and began to smash its claws down on the shield. With and swift backroll the warrior removed himself from danger. But the beast was on him, limping slightly, with both claws outstretched. The warrior battered aside the first claw and stabbed at the second. Even though the sword slightly pierced the creatures flesh the monster was able to grab the sword. It crackled and hissed as the monster rent it from the man’s grip and tossed it away. As the sword flew away the blue glow dissipated and it fell clattering to the floor. Again the beast charged. Now the warrior had no weapon to fight back only a battered shield. Jareth frowned from his perch above the action. He will have to move quick or perhaps I did not train him well enough.
The warrior paused as the creature came at him again. His mind was racing. But Jareth could not tell what he was thinking. Even as the beast neared striking range he stood still. As the ferocious claws came down to tear his face the warrior dove forward. He tossed his shield between the monster’s legs and slide between them. The monster stumbled to a halt, turned and charge the warrior who had scooped up his shield and was running towards his sword. The warrior had made a valiant effort but the creature was much faster than he was. In a moment the beast would be upon him and the sword was still twenty feet away. Turning to face the monster the warrior made a desperate attempt to gain time, as he spun he extended his arm and threw the shield at the monster’s face. It did not fly like a Frisbee but its aim was true. The creature reared back as the shied spun upward toward its face.
Again showing surprising speed and agility the beast snatched the shield in mid-air. Slowly he dropped the shield to grin at the warrior. The warrior stood facing him twenty feet away with a blazing sword in his hand. Infuriated the monster attacked again. Moving swiftly the warrior was able to keep out of the beast’s reach and strike at any finger that came too close. They danced around the room. The monster charging and swiping, the warrior dodging and parrying. Several times the creature managed to slice the warriors flesh but the beasts hands were also bloody with numerous wounds. However the warrior still managed to keep control of the fight and in a minute he was standing over his shield. Watching his adversary carefully, he bent down and flipped it over. The monster starred at him, eyes wild, and breath coming in hissing gasps. The warrior slowly slid his left hand through one strap. The beast snorted and took a step forward. With a flourish the warrior grabbed the second strap and looked up. The creature was in the air in a mad lunge. The warrior had barely enough time prepare before the two huge claws smashed into his shield and send him to the floor. The beast stood over him, drooling, it reached down with both claws for a death grip. The same motions it had used those many years ago. The warrior put his shield between him and it but the claws wrapped around his shield, body and sword. The warrior was trapped. His sword was pinned again his side and was burning him. Hastily he released the hilt and the sword shuddered and disengaged. His shield was crushing his chest. The long claws of the beast were cutting into his back and legs. As he struggled the claws cut deeper. Blood ran freely down his back. The monster slowly brought his head closer to its mouth. The warrior could see the wild eyes close up now. They were almost the same size now and both held nothing but inhuman rage and ferocity. Its teeth were nearly straight, long and sharp as needles. Its breath smelled like a thousand corpses. The warrior gagged. The monster screamed in his face blasting him with saliva and stench. In a last ditch attempt to preserve his head the warrior pushed his shield up. He strained again the weight of the claws as the creature brought his head nearer. With a last effort the warrior screamed and managed to maneuver the shield in front of his face. His head was in the maw now but the shield could not quite fit. Disgusted the creature withdrew the offending morsel to examine it. Seeing the problem the creature attempted to shift its grip to get a better leverage on the warrior’s head. As the monster loosened its grip the warrior was able to grab his sword and point it between the claws at its face. Awkwardly he thrust the glowing blade out at the monster. It entered the creatures mouth and singed the back of its throat. Howling the creature almost dropped the warrior. In a swift motion the warrior brought his sword back and then down on the creatures face. Blood splattered the warrior before he was dropped by the livid monster. In stumbled and roared half-blinded by the blow. The warrior lay at its feet.
The fall had not been soft and although he had not broken anything, the impact plus his previous wounds had left him weak. He watched anxiously as the beast staggered about. It stumbled closer to the warrior nearly squashing him with the heavy feet. Not wanting to be stepped on but too weak to move the warrior swung his sword with both hands at the beast’s wounded leg. The leg twisted but the monster did not stop. Again the warrior bashed the beast’s leg, and again. There was a crack and the monster toppled. The warrior starred up at the huge form descending on him. With a large thud the monster landed on the ground. It moaned in agony. Blood now soaked the floor around where the battle had taken place. Taking a deep breath the warrior raised himself with his sword. He looked at the beast who was now writhing in a pool of crimson. Slowly the warrior surveyed his enemy and selected a point of weakness. Stepping around the shuddering arm, the warrior approached the head. After a particularly violent spasm the warrior stepped in close and swung his sword down in a mighty arch. The screams ended. And the creatures head rolled away from its twitching body. The warrior sighed. His shoulders sagged and he plodded back over to his shield.
He had done it! Jareth nearly shouted for joy. The warrior had passed the test. Finally he was ready. Finally they would begin their conquest of the world. Jareth smiled once at his project and then turned and returned to his study.
So it makes since now what a Jelf is?
I want it to be so that someone with no background with the name could learn what they are in the first couple of pages.
Thanks. I wrote the fight in one day without looking back. So I'm glad it came out so well.
I like this story.
PS Will post more of my first story in about an hour.
"Three years ago we were kidnapped." Josh knew that the Officer had studied the events surrounding the kidnapping but knew nothing of the motivations or persons involved. "They injected me with a sedative while I lay in bed and the next thing I knew I was in a cell. After several hours they took me out and gave me a introduction to their operation. They had been spying on me for several weeks and had selected me as a target for their training."
"Training?" The Chief was surprised. Lt. Kinney looked up, eyebrows raised. Josh lifted a hand.
"Let me finish, I will try and explain everything. Yes, they had captured us to train us. We were to learn the ways of warriors, spies, and assassins; the -" Josh hesitated. Seth knew he was going to say "ninja." But Josh decided not to. "They trained us to be a combination of commando, spy and warrior. We had training everyday for eight hours, everyday of the week for the last three years." Josh smiled grimly. "It is amazing what you can learn if you train like that. They were very subtle in their motivation. You mush be wondering why we would want to train like that and submit to your kidnappers. They used both a incentive and a punishment. They painted a perfect picture of what we could become. They displayed their feats and told us that we would one day be some of the most dangerous beings on the planet. On the other hand they told us that if we refused to train we would be killed." They shock was evident on both the Officer's faces. Clearly they had not conceived such a eccentric plot. Normally the Chief would question such a remarkable tale, but Josh's calm, firm voice held his attention and demanded to questioning. Lt. Kinney had nearly forgotten his pad of paper and now began to scrawl notes furiously
"Several weeks later Seth was kidnapped. We bonded almost immediately and become close friends over the course of the training. What we learned is too complex to explain now but we did finish our training. However, at our graduation test was something we did not- could not, do." Josh sighed. And Seth took up the tale.
"They wanted us to commit an assassination. We were unwilling to do so. But we had time to prepare. We decided not to prepare for the murder but for our escape. This was one month ago. Last week we created a distraction and managed to commandeer a boat. Thus making our escape."
"Just like that?" Lt. Kinney was skeptical.
"Well," Seth admonished. "There was a schuffle on the docks, and we disabled the other boats."
"We also had to disable the sentry and time the escape to pass a ferry. We swam to the ferry and then have been trying to loose ourselves in the cities for the past few days. Only after we were confident we had no pursuers did we approach you."
The Chief sat back. "Is that it?"
"Yah, do you have any question?"
"Yes, how many kidnappers, eh... trainers were there?" Seth responded.
"There were five main teachers, one of them trained the girls and the rest trained the boys. There was also the Sensei, who was kind of like the headmaster. There were also several other... men who were scouts and sentries. But we were never sure how many there were." Lt. Kinney paused.
"You never said their were girls." Seth and Josh exchanged a glance.
"They were also being trained but their training was... different from ours."
The Chief fiddled with a pencil, pondering everything he had heard. Lt. Kinney finished her notes.
"I had called your parents when you gave your names. They should be here any second. We can discuss this more tomorrow morning. I think right now it is important that we reunite you."
Josh and Seth exchanged another look. This was a slight miscalculation. They had not expected to go back to their homes so soon. Part of Seth didn't want to be connect with anything so tangible as a family. But another part of him wanted desperately to be involved in an emotional, socio-economic relationship.
The phone on the desk beeped. The Chief pressed a button. "Yes." The secretary's voice came through the speaker.
"Mr. and Mrs. Watson and Wells to see you, sir."
"Send them in."