Heroes of the Realm

[Guest gogoblender]

Heroes of the Realm

 

I've never written anything like this before.

And I have Drel trazor to thank for, hahah!

This thread of his here:

 

http://forum.sacredeng.ascaron-net.c...ad.php?t=35922

 

about talking about our characters so that he'd be inspired to make some fun one of his own in his newly purchased Uw had my head spinning all night long last night after I'd read his post.

I mean...who wouldn't want to talk about a toon that they've spent so much time on and are so proud of...right?

And I must say...because I"ve never written fiction before I kept shocking myself every time I look at the clock and see those hands sweep by!

Course I was horribly sick in bed, supposed to be sleeping and have snuck off to the computer, my head addled by codeine. It's a nice, blurry feeling and the words to seem to just put themselves to paper so quickly.

Writing is so addictive!

I"M sorry the story is so long...but...it just happenned ya know?

So here we go...here's the story.

And...lol, I didn't WANT it to turn out so gruesome...but it just did.

I've mentionned my friends here at the forum as protagonists. I also understand that because of the violence in the story (Golly it's alost as violent as the game Sacred itself! ) that you may not like that.

Please, if you find mention of your name here upsetting absolutely send me a pm and I'll change the name.

 

The original thread, with the posts from everyone after it was published can be reached here:

 

http://forum.sacredeng.ascaron-net.com/sho...ead.php?t=35940

 

Enjoy

 

 

Heroes of the Realm

 

 

 

 

They were the last

And they were the best

The Daemon's might had wracked many a realm before.

It's laughter alone enough to curdle the blood of an unborn child

It's face was misery, it's body a sea of stolen souls.

It had come to Ancaria...and the heroes of this world had come to defend it.

Mighty Rooster, the most powerful Gladiator in the land and with a warcry that shattered the earth leapt for the daemon's throat while raising his sword high.

The first strike against the invader was one that rent the daemon in half, it's dark ichor spraying Rooster and causing him to cry out in pain as the outlander's blood burned holes and blinded the champion's eyes.

He fell forward into the cavernous maw that his sword had rent within the daemon's body...a small stumble actually.

And at that moment the monster choose to heal itself.

It's two halves were now rejoined

And rooster was nowhere to be seen.

Gone

The Dark Elf Tharkane whirled into the midst of the fray, his duel blades spinning madly and sending rays of light into the daemon's eyes whilst blinding him to the direction of where the dark elf hero's seemlingly endless rain of piercing stabs and slashings were coming from.

Tharkane, long time ally of Rooster, was consumed by such grief and frenzy that surely this would be enough to end the battle.

Pevil, the horsed mistress of the woods chose at this time to unleash a torrent of magical arrows.

The arrows arrived in a rain upon the daemon, turning the daemon's proud stance into a dance of hopscotch.

Atop her horse, she plucked an oak leaf off of an overhead branch, crushing it within her hands against a snake-berry already there while chanting her next spell.

Vines of prodigous girth exploded from the ground, wrapping the daemon in a bear's hug embrace that had the daemon cry out in frustration.

The vines, though enchanted, could not bear the fierce heat of the daemon's skin and so exploded into flames, covering the heroes in a smelly, shower of sparks.

Pevil's next arrows were very special.

She had only four..

But they were destructive as well as highly dangerous to all around.

Each of these arrows when hitting their target would open a rift to a planet called Kirgath-ARachnia.

Perhaps the most dangerous world in all of the realms.

The rifts that the elves used to fetch animals back from that world were tightly controlled, and no more than four inchesin diameter.

That was enough.

For that world had denizens that could dwarf the largest animals found in Ancaria.

That world was covered and ruled by only one species of animal.

Indeed it was not an animal...but something else.

Kirgath-Arachnia...The Planet of Spider.

Each of these arrows when they hit would open a small rift for only a few seconds...but in those seconds enough poisonous and biting spiders would answer the arrows beckon, and just one arrow could cover a horse.

Pevil had four.

The spiders quickly began to consume the flesh of the invader.

The blinded daemon now spun about madly trying to rip off all the arachnids that were feasting on it's skin, while trying to evade the spinning whirlwind that Tharkane had become.

The spiders though were a mistake.

For while the Elves had wrought a relationship of enthrallment with their eight legged servitors...that relationship was one that had grown tired.

Summoned creatures grow tired quickly.

And so the Daemon began to sing.

In a language born of pain and suffering it sang to the many thousands of arachnids that crawled over it's body.

It sang of warm meat, sylvan-blood and the terrified, helpless cries of a young Wood elf and it's horse.

The others now screamed and turned away...the sheer horror of the sight almost too much to bear.

For pevil's screams, so chilling in their pain were terrifying as well as terrible.

And it was at that moment when the daemon which could once again begin to see through a swollen, blood-encrusted eye...

...Cast it's Ring of Rift.

And it did not matter where Tharkane danced with his blades from.

Tharkane just fell through the ring, his screams echoing back from the realm of fire into which he had fallen.

The Rift closed.

Our heroes now surged forward with cries of vengeance and justice.

Ancaria...their Ancaria!

All for Ancaria.

The Daemon was like nothing they had ever encountered.

It had shattered planets and driven races to madness.

It had snuffed the might of stars

It had killed their friends.

This was why it was called Matesh Urdu in the old Language of the Angels...

Chaos Bringer.

The battle raged with Drel Trezor now in the vanguard firing mighty cannon blasts.

The Thunderous detonations echoing with the magical damage that Tetrol's Flame skin had added to his attacks.

The Cannonade again came raining down on the daemon, as it attempted to leap out of the way of the mighty dwarf's weapon.

Tetrol...his eyes aglow with a red concentration was elsewhere at that moment.

His eyes were on the asteroid belt that circled the realm, calling out to the deadly islands that circled in endless orbit.

The rocks answered.

The meteors were bent from their path and new found new direction in a stream that thundered against the Ancarian plains. They found as target the daemon's body upon which the rocks exploded with one blast after another that sent the daemon tumbling while tearing holes across the devil's smoking body. They left behind a pocked wasteland that this time birthed a myriad of worms with sharp teeth that leaped forth from their father's wounds and went for the eyes of every hero seen.

Tetrol quickly broke a tablet that he had been holding in his hand. The release of the crafted spells within the stone sweeing down upon the daemon with a wind of destructive energies.

The wizard's Gust of Wind shredded all the hell-born worms, while blowing a fiery wind across the deamon's flank causing it to howl and scream in pain.

Tetrol's meteor strikes were taking their toll upon the daemon...but the mage now chanced upon a solution.

A weakness to the Daemon's plan.

Tetrol switched to ice shards and ice ring.

The effect was immediete.

The Daemon's body now had a hardenning shell of ice crystals forming over it wherever tetrol's freezing blasts hit.

This combined with the huge concussive force of Drel's cannon was starting to make it's effect apparent.

The Daemon was coming apart.

One particularly large blast tore off a huge, frozen chunk of daemon's tail, where it flew past the heroes.

The daemon strangely enough now began to have the glowing appearance of a cherry.

Tetrol noticed the increase in heat, but continued on with the frostt, bone-chilling barrage of icy bolts and winds.

Drel, now emboldened by the success of the duo's last efforts shouted his family's warcry...for friends lost in battle and the souls of loved ones. He leapt upwards on to the daemon, managing to retain a grip upon it's fiery sulphur-clouded head. He aimed his cannon downwards, while beaming Tetrol a smile of triumph from his new perch atop the daemon's head.

Tetrol looked upwards at his friend waiting to share with his ally their soon to be victorious moment...

And Drel screamed in horror.

For Tetro's eyes had flown wide open in agony.

The mage opened his mouth to scream for help...but instead out of his mouth jetted a fountain of blood... and a long snakey tail waggling out from between his teeth in a grotesque and obscene parody of a waving hand.

The Daemon's tail which Drel had blown off earlier and which had seperated so easily had thawn out you see.

And the tail just wanted to use the shortest path possible to get back home to it's owner.

Good mage Tetrol's head just happenned to be in the way.

And Drel, awash with the terrors of the sight he'd just seen...slipped on a patch of melting ice on top of the daemon's head.

Falling fifteen stories, and instantly breaking his neck.

Dear reader are some deaths unfair?

Tell me reader...are they?

Or...do deaths because they're sufferred by a hero make them that much more dramatic?

Perhaps, a long, long time from now...Drel's death will be more excitingly re-told.

Or maybe...they will just leave it as it is.

For Drel's actions and deeds through life were legendary.

And isn't that what history is about?

I do not think any fanciful re-telling of this story will make his reputation any better.

He was a hero, and fought for our realm.

As the remaining heroes fight now.

Erialc the daemon stepped forward.

Brought up by an angel.

A cast-off daemon that had found family..

She stepped forward because she had learned honor.

And because she had come to call her new realm home.

She raised her hand to cast the first spell against the being who now threatened her world, never once thinking that because the Daemon was of her own kindred, that any other option existed.

She knew, as well...that this battle may well be her last.

And her gesture...her hand raised towards the deamon, was

Erialc's last instance of a belief in choice rather than destiny.

The Daemon, called Matesh Urdu in the language of Angels...then smote his daughter.

And she died.

Lady P, the most powerful vamp in the realm, and high mystress of the arts had taken Erialc as a sister, and therefore family.

Her wrath was great.

Her anger unbridled.

The vampire is one of the greatest of all the heroes of Ancaria.

It's strength is legendary.

And it's ability to win any battle while cloaked in darkness was an almost absolute guarantee of success.

Lady P gathered up her spells.

Careful not to call forth anything that a daemon's song could coerce to it's will.

For she remembered Pevil.

From the ends of the lady's fingerips flew bolts of corruscating power so intensely blue that they were blindingly difficult to even look at.

Their passage burnt the very air they flew through and scored the daemon's body with innumberable bleeding wounds.

And this time...it bled blood.

The Daemon then smiled, a toothsome grin.

Licked it's lips.

For it had known that the vampire would be a challenge.

It therefore gathered up almost all of it's fell essence...

And pointed at the sun...which was not up in the sky...but on the other side of Ancaria.

With his dark laugher he hissed at the vampire:

"let there be light!"

And there was light.

But it was a sun that was green, mutated and sick with disease.

A sun bloated and twisted by the daemon's power and wrenched out of it's path and arrested in it's journey through the heavens.

Made to bow down to the daemon's call and shine it's now tainted light upon the heroine.

Lady P screamed.

She couldn't stop screaming.

For that light, that green sickly light that bore down on her with dark intent, was anathema to her very bones.

Dear reader does a hero care when screaming out in pain?

Does she care to maintain some sort of control?

Knowing that her last words (oh please let them be heroic words, please!) will be remembered?

Did I mention the Daemon's sword?

Long it is.

Well honed on the bones of heroes.

Made sharp upon the necks of it's victims..

For I...as observer and with tear-filled eyes of anguish and heartwrenching pain saw no words upon lady p's lips as I saw the vampire-hero's severed, burning head fly away from me and into the distance...her face spinning off into the air while mouthing nothing but pain, pain and more pain.

The Daemon looked about it now.

It had expected more from the immortal.

In fact...more from all the heroes of this realm.

It began calling in it's power...it's wounds were many and it needed to heal.

The battle had not been without cost.

And then, upon the the plains which it had thought empty before, it saw a girl.

A girl?

A girl had wings.

And in that moment the Daemon knew what it beheld.

An angel.

A being borne of the very firmament it was.

A being of vast power and infinite capacity.

The daemon bowed to the seraphim, and when the seraphim nodded back, the dark destroyer choose that moment to send forth a stream of fireballs hoping to take the battle angel off guard.

The daemon was to be dissapointed.

For the angel's eye was as quick as it's own, and an effortless Combat Jump to behind a mountain allowed the seraphim to evade the daemon's fiery thrust. The pieces of rock now flying about because of the daemon's strike however, were another thing.

The seraphim quickly utterred the words for Light Shield, and a light blue glow phosphored about her.

Protecting her from the hailstrom of dangerous rocks and any other thing the daemon may choose to fling at her.

From the deepest recesses of her mind she brought forth something that her dear friend Pevil had taught her.

Pevil had a knack for finding new ways of doing things and this shining example of the wood-lady's craft in action brought a smile to the angel's lips.

The angel started to sing what Pevil had taught her.

The seraphim's voice was the choir of angels. Her voice so sweet and glorious as it sang of places lit by hope and the promise of tommorow.

This spell called Conversion should have made the daemon forgot who he was, as well as the battle being fought.

Instead...the DAemon had other plans.

He vomitted.

And birthed forth noxious fumes from his mouth along with gobs of billous matter. They jetted forth upon the angel's face gagging and almost choking her.

The choir was silenced.

The daemon then tore off some of it's many fingers.

Cast them upon the ground.

And waited for the summonings to grow.

The birthed beasts were hard to look at and indeed focus upon. The depth of their evil blurred their very appearance, making them look wrong in our world.

Full of tooth and claw, and the promise of pain, they descended upon the little seraphim, smelling her blood and craving all of it.

The Battle angel called into place a shield of twinkling, rotating lights, whose passage through the air burned to a crisp every summoning that the daemon brought forth. Over and over it sent it's minions at her, where they smoked against her divine power.

Her fury became a terrible sight. She brought forth the powerf of her Attack, a fury of blows landing against the daemon and causing it to duck when it could.

And when the seraphim could gather enough power, it would use a devasting Hard hit, so that when it smashed against the Daemon the power of that blow would lay waste to the landscape behind the invader's back when it flew back against something with devastating force.

Back and forth the battle ensued.

"Enough!" cried the seraphim.

She looked up to the sun, the one that the daemon had wrenched out of it's orbit, and transformed into a mottled thing of evil.

The seraphim prayed to it for it's forgiveness and aid.

The Sun, still filled with the mighty essence of the Daemon, bent it's will to the angel's needs.

A roaring, white beam of light, beautifully bright and a joy to behold smashed down upon the daemon with the force of a star.

A mighty star.

For this was the sun of Ancaria, being held by the love of an angel, and focusing all of what was left of it's fiery strength upon the daemon...this dark invader.

The Daemon screamed and screamed...

for it had never before felt anything like this.

The light was washing through the dark recesses of it's soul, bathing everything it touched with the powerful clarity of it's path. The Daemon was the prince of lies and deception...it detested the truth.

But this was the Celestial Light..and one of the seraphim's greatest weapons.

And against it, the Daemon could do almost nothing.

Indeed, the devil now cried out in fear...fear of it's own imminent death...unless...

The Daemon played it's last card.

It's ace.

And across the Daemon's chest a fissure appeared. Throbbing with a sickly red glow, it grew and grew.

Finally what looked like a womb split open.

And Rooster...poor Rooster...stumbled out.

The mightiest champion in ancaria had not died, but instead been enslaved. And now, the warrior was taken to task and forced to help the daemon on it's path of destruction.

To kill the seraphim.

The battle was one which scarred the heavens themselves.

Where the angel and barbarian's blows caught each other the sonic boom would render the trees from their roots, turning the air itself into a deadly hurricane.

Great Canyons were formed from where the heroes threw each other. And oceans were emptied while deserts flooded.

The stars themselves were flung as weapons. Such was the might of these heroes, and such was the intensity of the combattants.

And after what seemed like an eternity of battling, after uncounted blows and magical spells...

The seraphim was dying.

The daemon laughed as he saw this...urging his new pet to quickly end it...for they had other worlds to rob of futures.

The angel was sure that all of her ribs were broken. She was lying on her back, facing the barbarian who was standing over her with his sword held high.

Every breath of hers was laboured, and she knew that there was little time.

But perhaps in weakness...she could find a way.

So from tattered lips and pierced lungs she sang her last song. She sang to Rooster of a world of light, one filled with promise and laughter. She sang of color, love and the beauty of faith.

And the vision that the seraphim sang to the warrior allowed him to briefly wipe the cloud of deception from his eyes...and see the truth...

"My lady, my angel...I have no control of my actions...and once your song has faded from my heart, the daemon's dark will will once again control my destiny."

" It is not my own future I care for Lady Angel...but for the future of this realm..my Ancaria!"

The Seraphim, with her last breath asked the Warrior:

"Then do you have strength of faith, barbarian" her voice nothing but a whisper now.

"for I have given back you now, for only the breath of a moment, your power to once again choose your own destiny...."

The Angel's eyes now were closing.

" Warrior, will you give to me your last act of will..."

And Rooster did.

The Daemon knew now that at this point...something was afoot.

The Daemon doubled the force of will he had bent upon the will of Rooster.

The Geas placed upon the hero must not fail.

But it did fail.

And Rooster gave his last act of will to the angel.

He trusted her.

And in that trust was love.

Rooster fell upon his sword, falling dead upon the dying angel.

And the angel, with her last breath, sang her last spell..

One she prayed would be enough...

For Ancaria.

For the future.

 

 

 

gogo

 

 

written by Diane Warren and sung by Russell Watson

 

 

It's been a long road

Getting from there to here

It's been a long time

But my time is finally near

And I will see my dream come alive at last,

I will touch the sky

And they're not gonna hold me down no more

No, they're not gonna change my mind

Cause I got faith of the heart

I'm going where my heart will take me

I got faith to believe

I can do anything

I got strength of the soul

And no one's gonna bend or break me

I can reach any star

I got faith

Faith of the heart

[erialc 2]

GoGo that is the first time I have read that. Its amazing!! Want an agent? Seriously that had me completely hooked ....and has left me wanting to read more:)

 

Great respect to you for sharing that with us all

[Guest gogoblender]

ahhh, thanks Erialc for the kind words. And...heh, sorry you died

 

The funny thing is...I just can't seem to end that story...that woozy feeling I was gettin from bein on so much medication just can't seem to be done with coffee or potato chips.

 

I'll let you and everyone else who reads it to imagine how it ends.

 

To each their own!

 

gogo

[Schot 407]

Oh wow, yah, I remember that story. Thats an amazing story! Admittedly, I was afraid to talk to yah gogo for a long time after you posted that story for fear of being added to it. I dun wanna die! lol

 

And for it to be a first attempt says a lot about your story telling abilities.

 

Come now gogo. Finish it! And end our anguish over this unfinished business!

 

[Indy13 5]

Yupp, gogo was clearly on drugs when he wrote it.

 

It's a really good story IMO as it shows a different side of gogo, the one that lurks beneath.

Btw, you should drink some absinthe and try writing after that. Some french writers wrote masterpieces like that.

If all else fails get schot to poison you or something so that you enter a state of delirium. A writer must sacrifice himself for his work.

 

C'mon, we want more!

[Aurora 2]

Timof Doom wrote:

 

Oh no I remember reading that

 

You killed Pevil and LadyP :cry_smile[1]: evil murderer!

 

*sniffle* poor pevil and lady P

 

:diablo[1]:

 

Great story GoGo been nice to re-read it

 

Gogoblender wrote:

 

heh, yeah the story was fun...

 

lol, anyone else wanna finish it?

 

Don't know if I ever wanna get that sick again and bouncing off codeine...

 

 

gogo

 

Erialc wrote:

 

Couldn't we just give you the codine?

 

Gogoblender wrote:

 

oooh...

 

:devil2[1]:

 

gogo

 

Cyclops wrote:

 

ok havn't read the story yet but this line caught my attention

 

written by Diane Warren and sung by Russell Watson

 

My surname is Warren and my fiancee's first name is Diane B)

 

Gogoblender wrote:

 

That's karma fer you man.

That song is a wicked tune

it's the theme song for the series Enterprise

it's the only song that they've ever made that has lyrics in it for a star trek franchise.

I hated it when I first heard it...

but totally fell in love with it after just a few plays

 

gogo