Pyrizzle wrote:If we were to string all the stories together I think we could get close to telling the whole story (so far).
There can actually be a book or a movie written on this game. It is THAT perfectly characterized Though most of the writing credit goes to Wyrmspawn.
This inspires me to start a new project and start putting all the stories in some sort of order.
Maybe after I'm finished with my updates and maps.
I wouldn't mind helping with that either, if Oskar gives the go-ahead for stealing his plot, of course.
Thanks for the compliments, and I hope you enjoy this new one as well !
Fate. Such a cruel master. Taking my brother from me. Taking all that I have from me. All I have now are my fists and my experience. This not even death can take from me. I growl ferociously at the nearest Irdeph, hoping to scare it off without a fight. It seems, however, that some things just need to be taught their lesson. I'm a little hungry anyway. With a roar that would not have shamed a White Wyrm, I smashed into the Ancient Irdeph, Pounding my fists repeatedly into its sides. Within moments, all that is left is a bloody, writhing pile of pulp. With a ferocity akin to that of a beast, I tear into the corpse of the Irdeph, filling my body with new stregth. Laughing madly, I look up from the half-eaten corpse to survey the Irdephs around me.
"Throw what you can at me," I snarl. "Lord Geomyr, the Shadow, Gods, and thieves... Pah! None of you will stand in my way of my search. Come on, then!" I scream. "Throw yourselves on me. Let's see who dies first, you mindless beasts!"
Slowly, the Irdephs slunk away, and I turned back northwards. I heard of a town far to the north, where the beasts are savage and the equipment is better. Not that it would matter to me anyway, seeing as to the fact that I have no gold. I growl at the darkness of the cave which looms before me. Let them come, monsters. Let them come and I shall beat them and kill them and eat them. And not neccesarily in that order either.
I leave Loneford and walk towards the river. It's a long path ahead. I am not seeking for anything right now. I have quite sometime before I head to this village called Remgard. I decide to explore the area surrounding the village. "Lets see if we can find some goodies out here", I say to myself.
I walk towards the arrow showing the directions. While reading, something weird catches my eye. The arrow pointing to the left is badly scratched out, almost like someone hoped to remove the place by deleting the name. A surge of excitement creeps up my spine. My brain tells me to go east , while my gut tells me to go west. I start walking towards the west, ignoring my brain.
The first creatures I encounter are the Izthiels. I slash and kill all of them, rarely giving them a chance to attack first. I laugh at the look on the Izthiel gaurdian's face when I attack him. "Am I supposed to be scared? My father is more scary than you!", I mutter with my final blow. "If this is all that's here, I'm going back", I think to myself. I go ahead, and reach another arrow. While I start reading it, I hear a hideous scream coming from a cavern nearby. It's nothing like I have ever heard. A chill runs through me.
I move in the direction of the cavern, and find a small, extremely innocent looking creature standing there. "What are you?", I ask softly. "Iiii...qqhhaaaann....thhrr...aaaall", it hisses ominously. Suddenly it attacks me, catching me by surprise, and hitting me hard. I stagger behind, but catch myself just in time. I attack back, and fatally injured it falls down.
"Chhhaaa...oooossss.... Maaassss....ttteeeerr", It hisses loudly, and lets out the same ear-piercing scream I heard back, before giving away. I laugh silently to myself, as I make my way towards the entrance.
When everyone is against you, there's always the Shadow standing with you.
My laugh is drowned by the sudden high-pitched screams coming from all directions of the cavern. The noise gets louder and louder, till it becomes unbearable. Closing my ears in pain, I glance around me. The cave is full of hundreds of Iqhans, some of them more powerful than the others. Something about these creatures seem different. They seem more organised, more alert, and extremely smart.
I step inside, and they seem to sense me. Suddenly there is movement all around me, almost as if they are willingly creating confusion. Two of them attack me at once, although they are a no match for my increased strength and defense. As I kill them, they let out a high-pitched scream, alerting more Iqhans around us. Every movement I make, more and more Iqhans come towards me and attack. Although they are not as strong individually, I get outnumbered more often.
As I keep going inside, I realize they are more evolved than any of the creatures I had seen before. They also have an amazing amount of loot on them. I reach halfway inside, with a bloody trail of bodies behind me. I am about to proceed further, when I see him. A man, hiding behind one of the rocks, so thin and pale, he almost looks dead and ghostly.
He cringes as I walk upto him, but a quickly recovers when he realizes I am not one of the creatures. "What happened to you?", I ask him. "I came here looking for treasure, a long time ago. I was prepared to fight any creatures that came my way. But after coming here, I realized that these Iqhans are far different. They play with their prey, and then hunt him down. They are pure evil. I was no match for their increasing numbers, and by the time I realized that, I was trapped in the cavern. My potions are very low, and I'm injured. My only way to survive was to hide here."
"I have killed most on my way here. You can easily walk out of here safely. I am going further inside.", I tell him. "NO!", he screams, "Run while you still have a chance. Come with me. These creatures will not spare you. Don't be a fool!!" I look at him, smile reassuringly, and shake my head. "I need some clues. Nothing can make me change my mind. Please go before they come back. I can take care of myself."
He looks at me for a long time, before making a dash towards the entrance. I sit down for a few minutes. His warning comes to mind, I shake it away. "There's no way I am backing out now", I promise myself. "What can be so bad? What can go wrong here?", I say to myself, and head forward in the cave.
When everyone is against you, there's always the Shadow standing with you.
WOW!! That was amazing. This makes Andors Trail come alive. I gotta say Wyrmspawn you have some real talent. I would love for you to right a quest. I read this whole thread in one sitting. I could just see the action unfolding in front of me. Thanks for the tales.
Thanks! Oh, and Konizooka, I guess I'd better get back to writing soon, or someone will have contributed twice my number of stories before I can blink.
Wyrmspawn wrote:Thanks! Oh, and Konizooka, I guess I'd better get back to writing soon, or someone will have contributed twice my number of stories before I can blink.
Hahaha No way! Ur stories are still way to awesome than mine. I'm still an amateur
When everyone is against you, there's always the Shadow standing with you.
I growl like a wolf at the approaching spider. It doesn't flinch, unlike most of the people, beasts, and even ghosts that I threaten. Other than size, there seems to be nothing too dangerous about this spider. I could use something else in my stomach... Then, glancing at the reflected images in the spider's eight eyes... something moved behind me. I whirl around, snarling and baring my teeth, at two spiders that crept up while I was contemplating my prey. One of the spiders, the one on the right, seems particularly hairy... Andor taught me about hairy spiders once. Tara... tarun... Ta-somethings. Whatever. Then the spider behind me strikes. As I spin around to face it, the hairy one and the second spider both attack, causing me to overbalance myself slightly. Instead of falling, I land on my right palm, spinning about to face my opponents. One of them, the second spider, foolishly drew even closer to me. Grabbing two of its scrabbling legs, I rip it apart with my bare hands, like I did countless of other monsters and humans before. Pausing to instinctively take a chomp out of it, the other two spiders take the oppurtunity to redouble their efforts, flaying my back with burning, searing wounds. I roar out in rage as I leap towards the hairy one, clinging onto its back by its long, long hair. as it bucked and tossed about wildly, l bite at the back of its neck, tearing off great chunks of flesh, eating it alive. Within moments, all that is left is a twitching, bloody mass.
The first spider, too dumb to realize it has lost, leapt towards me, landing in two blows before trying to leap out of range. Two blows too many. I leap after it like a lion on its prey, five fingers of my right hand extended in a clawlike gesture. A move that I learnt from the white wyrms. My five fingers, hardened to steel-like toughness, puncture its skull, feeling little resistance. Howling triumphantly, I raise its body up high, by the five finger holes drilled into its skull. Every inch of me roaring out my triumph and my might. Then, a twinge on my back. And another. I grimace in pain, before falling down to my knees. My howl of triumph turns into a howl of pain. Every inch of me was on fire. How? My left hand shoots out onto the ground, anchoring me. The beetle caves! I shall feast on them, grow strong again! I started to make my way to the caves, on all fours, as fast as a wolf. But the venom weakened me, and the caves are far away. I shudder repeatedly, until I find myself crawling like a wounded, snivelling human.
I drag myself along the ground. Eating will heal, I chant to myself. And I need to heal, I need to heal, I need to heal. Sleep will heal. I need to sleep. I need to sleep. I need to sleep to heal... And I dream. Of Andor, the handsome hero, a wonder with a sword, every bit of him as regal as a king. And his brother. The one no one remembers. His wild, wild brother, who lived in the wild, wielded no weapon but his fists, and ate raw flesh and had no manners...
I remember the duel. That was what Andor called it. That was how I won my fame. Andor and I had played a prank on mara's husband, Odair. I forgot what it was about. But Odair was fired about it. Andor managed to charm his way out. He was always eloquent. But I preferred sticks and stones to throw at enemies rather than words. So Odair wasn't mad at Andor, but he was frothing mad at me. Andor managed to persuade him to settle this in a gentleman's way. Andor thought that meant shaking hands and apologizing. Odair, however, had a duel in mind. Andor offered to step in for me, but I told him I'd be fine. Odair gave me the choice of what to use to fight him with. I wondered about using the club that Mikhael gave me on my 5th birthday, but decided to use nothing, because then Odair could use nothing but his fists.
Andor was worried. I still remember the look on his face that day. He told me Odair was a hunter, who hunted the rabid dogs, and when he was lucky and strong, even boars. I told him that I'd be fine. Half the town came to watch the duel, set in the open fields in behind Leta's and Oromir's house. I still remember Andor pleading with me not to fight Odair. But something deep within me knew then. Andor is a great warrior, and Odair is a good hunter, but even they have not the brute strength of the wild beast. And I have.
Odair knew things were quite wrong when I growled at him. Then I dropped on all fours, circling him, snarling whenever he made a sudden movement. Then, just as he mustered up the courage to attack me, I leapt at him. He was surprised, and Leta might have screamed. My hands were not fists, but paws. I remember snapping at Odair like a beast, aiming for the neck, where the sweet, sweet blood flows... I think Leta fainted then. Andor rushed to Odair's rescue. He took up his wooden sword, and smashed it into my face. For all the years since we were born, this was the first time I remember him striking me. My snarls ebbed, and turned into growls. Slowly I stood back up, while my brother, my own brother, refused to let down his guard. His sword was kept firmly between himself and me.
Leta was never the same to me again. And Odair still nurses a grudge against me. But soon, they were the least of my troubles. Andor had disappeared. I know not where. Father has sent me to track him. Bring him back. I thought he was mad at me. But now I'm not so sure. I'm not sure of anything anymore. Before, people had only known me as the wild, dim, prank-loving and silent brother of Andor, the town's best and most charming swordsman who they all said was destined for greatness. But now... I'm Rhyne. The mad one. The beast. The demon. The violent, unnatural child who could stop a boar in its tracks by his snarls. And Andor, who I have not parted with since the day I was born... is gone.
Taken from the diary of Rhyne, Wyrmspawn's beast-type character. (A beast type character is a name I invented myself. Get lots and lots of corpse eater, use nothing at all but your fists, use no equipment, and get a lot of HP and AD. Highly like a beast, don't you think?)
I whirl the Defender's blade around wildly, somehow managing to block most of the blows directed against me. The Iqhan Priest growls in frustration, seeing that none of its blows had the strange, paralyzing effects that they usually inflict. I take the brief respite to lunge at the priest, landing a blow before leaning back into a defensive stance.
As the priest moves, forward, I give a shout, and start to whirl my sword around in a whirlwind of blocks, counters, and parries, the Defender's Blade leaving ghostly images behind its pathway. Within moments, I had created a protective barrier between me and the priest. The Iqhan priest roars out in rage as its dagger failed again and again to penetrate the barrier. But while he couldn't harm me, I realised that I couldn't harm him without lowering my defences either. And at this rate, I would tire soon before he does.
An idea occured to me, as I take a step forward towards the priest, keeping the barrier directly in front of me. The Iqhan priest takes a step back, to avoid being hit by my sword. Careful to keep the barrier of swords up between me and the priest, I take another step forward, forcing the priest back. Repeating the process, I finally manage to corner him, and, trapping him between the walls and my wall of swords, I finally lunge at him. The priest has nowhere to dodge, and was crammed into the corner far too tightly to even parry the blow. I watch, half interested, as he begins to disintegrate into a pile of gray dust. Before the body turned entirely, I carefully removed the dagger from the priest's dying grip, moments before the hand itself turned to dust. I threw the dagger into my pack, and started the long journey out.
I did not create the idea of creating a wall of swords. Jin Rong, a Chinese author (not sure if this is how it is spelt in English) came up with it in one of his Kung Fu novels, though I'm not sure if he's the first one to come up with that either.
Though most of the writing credit goes to Wyrmspawn.
