Fantasy Writers

Fantasy Character Castle Chronicles n.1

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  • #117182
    Rusted Knight
    @rusted-knight

      Isaac stood in the dark. The dream again. Every time he went berserk, he faded into the dream. And they would appear. Those he had lost. Those he had saved. All had been hurt. All frowned when he appeared. He had gotten use to them. They reminded him of how he could do better.

      His father appeared first. The white lab coat swayed as he walked forward. With a smile.

      “You’ve almost grown up son.”

      And he vanished. Something was different this time. The woman appeared next. Isaac had left her mortally wounded to try to save her. He had been a fool. The time machine not only went back in time, it crossed into parallel worlds. Isaac had left her to die.

      “You’re almost there.”

      “Where?”

      She smiled.

      “Where you were always trying to go.”

      She vanished. Where was he trying to go? He was close to ending World War 2 but Isaac felt that she was not talking about that. Teletha appeared next. The young girl who died in that cursed house. He had been to late too save her.

      “I’m sorry.”

      “For what?”

      She smiled and spoke sweetly.

      “For leading you to fall.”

      “I didn’t save you in time. You suffered so much. You and your family.”

      “I forgive you.”

      The others appeared.

      “We forgive you.”

      “I couldn’t save any of you.” Said Isaac.

      “You saved us.”

      It was the twins. The two he saved along with others from the Warsaw Ghetto.

      “You helped us escape.” said the boy.

      “We would have died in Auschwitz if not for you.” said the girl. “Now we can see mom again.”

      They were smiling, all smiling. What had happened? What made them all happy?

      “You have returned.” It was his father. “You never fully believed in God when you were with me.”

      “You gave up in Him when you saw me.” said Teletha.

      “And you found Him again when you saved us.” said the twins.

      “You are almost there son. To take God’s hand, you must give up your old ways. Come, it’s time to wake up.”

      The darkness cleared. Isaac returned to himself. He had never broken out of his berserk state before. Two wolves jumped at him. He shot both of them. He understood now. He no longer needed to be The Fenrir. No longer did he need to be a man who killed for sport and revenge. He would complete his mission with precision. He would eliminate only those he must. Death and judgement was not his to met out as he felt. He would let those better than he decide that. He must only arrange for the meeting and gather those that hid. He would survive and continue his life as Isaac the spy. After the war he would catch those criminals that escaped the dragnets. They would pay for their crimes but he would not be judge, jury and executioner anymore.

      The Devil saw me with my head down and got excited. Then I said Amen

      #117214
      Gracie
      @kimlikesart

        Dogs moved. Franz shot dead two more. Teagen got another. Suddenly the blazing sword reappeared and the cloaked man cut down more dogs.

        Teagen growled again, sounding like a stranded Comanche as he shot another wolf.

        The five remaining hounds were scattered between the three men. The lit sword cut through the one aiming for the blade’s master. Franz shot one more, barely turning round in time to shoot his last leaping assailant.

        The last fell with a wet moan at Teagen’s feet.

        It was over. Done. Teagen’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Sweat plastered his curly dark hair to his forehead and neck. But his eyes were on Franz. His leader.

        Franz was also breathing hard, but was in control of himself. His profile, instead of taut, looked peaceful as it had been in the garden. Perhaps moreso.

        How could Franz be at peace? There was no room for such facades as ‘false peace’ here. Teagen’s chest ached, and he stared with a guarded expression that slowly softened. The man’s calm somehow caused Teagen’s face to relax.

        But that was short-lived as Franz turned to face the demon. Teagen stepped over a carcass, then several more until he stood behind Franz’s right shoulder. Waiting, hand still clutching his weapon.

        Jominkreesa

        Passion means to be willing to suffer.

        #117340
        Dashuri Halad
        @christlover

        As Vrahe was continuing to battle, a change suddenly penetrated his concentration.

        That berserker! He just lost his aura! I didn’t know that was possible! These are some very strange people. I’m going to have to watch my back around them. 

        Soon, the fight ended with the complete annihilation of the hostile wolf pack. Willing the flames licking up Eldur to extinguish them, Vrahe waited for the two strangers to make the first move. The berserker stayed where he was in the middle of the carnage, keeping his weapon drawn and ready for use. As the berserker waited, his companion cautiously advanced to stand by his side.

        P’raps I judged that one too hastily. Vrahe thought.  He is obviously terrified, and yet he wills himself to confront his fears. It would not be wise to dismiss this one too readily. Anyone with that kind of courage could be surprisingly dangerous. 

        With a show of obviously forced bravado, the fearful stranger challenged Vrahe. “What are your intentions demon? Are you the master of this castle? Are you the one that has kidnapped us? Or are you also a prisoner?”

        “What do you mean did I kidnap you? I’m the one that was kidnapped! Why do you call me a demon? What is going on here? Why are both of you using antique weapons? Where did the wolves come from? Do you know where we are? Who even are you people?”

        “If you aren’t a demon, then what are you?” asked the fearful stranger, “How did you cause your weapon to set on fire like that? Wait! Before I go any farther, I can see that you won’t answer any of our questions until you get some answers yourself. My name is Teagan and my companion is Franz. We don’t know where we are. We were just going about our business when we were somehow transported to this castle.

        “Shh Teagan, we don’t know if we can trust him!” the berserker exclaimed, “He came in with the wolves. How do we know this isn’t all a ploy to make us think he is on our side?

        “Now wait one moment! I fought to save you two from the wolves! It looked like you were having a pretty rough time of it until I got here! Alright, Teagan. You have trusted me enough to introduce yourself, I may as well return the favor I am Ermordung.”

        It is too dangerous to tell them my true name. I might as well use my rival’s.

         

        "When injustice becomes law, rebellion becomes duty."
        -V

        #117344
        Gracie
        @kimlikesart

          But that was short-lived as Franz turned to face the demon. Teagen stepped over a carcass, forehead wrinkling, then several more until he stood behind Franz’s right shoulder. Waiting, hand still clutching his weapon.

          As the stranger’s gaze glanced over Teagen, the twenty-five-year-old’s ire went up. The short calm vanished without a trace and all that was left from the fear morphed to unbridled anger. For he’d never been taught to control it.

          He took another step forward, chin lifting. “What are your intentions demon?” Though name-calling had never worked before unless trying to start a fight, Teagen’s mind didn’t process well when angry. “Are you the master of this castle? Are you the one that has kidnapped us? Or are you also a prisoner?”

          The victim looked offended, and he then scoffed. “What do you mean did I kidnap you? I’m the one that was kidnapped!And why do you call me a demon?”

          Teagen just glared back into the man’s eyes, spitting hatred, but no answers.

          “What is going on here?” He then looked to Franz, “Why are both of you using antique weapons? Where did the wolves come from? Do you know where we are? Who even are you people?”

          Teagen’s put his shoulders back, eyes narrowing on the newcomer, then he spoke on, the rage beginning to change to something else as he cocked his head, “If you aren’t a demon, then what are you? How did you cause your weapon to set on fire like that? Wait!” He held up a hand and shook his head, dark brows jumping up and down a second. The humor of the situation was so wry!? They had just fought togethor, for the same purpose. And they were to kill each other just minutes later… The ironic smile that crossed Teagen’s face and twinkled in his eyes calmed his rage some. Then it died, It wasn’t that funny in hindsight,..actually. Then he smirked, shaking his head in disbelief.

          The man clearly didn’t see anything funny.

          So Teagen spoke, “Before I go any farther, I can see that you won’t answer any of our questions until you get some answers yourself. My name is Teagan and my friend here is Franz something. We don’t know where we are. We were just going about our business, me sleeping (not very restfully mind), when we were somehow transported to this castle.”

          “Shh Teagan, we don’t know if we can trust him!” Franz’s eyes cut like bullets. Teagen’s jaw set, but before a treasonous thought could cross his mind the man continued and his logic won the impudent boy over. “He came in with the wolves. How do we know this isn’t all a ploy to make us think he is on our side?”

          “Now wait one moment!” The demon took a step forward and sliced his hand through the air, “I fought to save you two from the wolves! It looked like you were having a pretty rough time of it until I got here!” He looked from Franz, to Teagen, then spoke to the latter, “Alright, Teagan. You have trusted me enough to introduce yourself, I may as well return the favor. I am Ermordung.”

          Teagen blinked a few times, then nodded with a closed lipped smile, “Cool…What’s an Ermordung?”

          Jominkreesa

          Passion means to be willing to suffer.

          #117378
          Rusted Knight
          @rusted-knight

            Isaac blinked. Ermordung. His name was Murder? What kind of joke was that?

            “Cool…What’s an Ermordung?”

            “It means murder.” said Isaac.

            Counter him. See how he reacts to it. Ermordung seemed to be thinking over his response. In that time Isaac looked him over. The sword was new. He didn’t remember seeing any like them when he was younger. It didn’t feel like a magic sword. There was also a gun in a shoulder holster. Ermordung was far better at hiding its presence and weight. A pro like himself. Isaac stood still. This was not good. The best way to kill a sniper is with another sniper. The same could be said for spies and assassins. Ticking this guy off would be a bad move.

            The Devil saw me with my head down and got excited. Then I said Amen

            #117382
            Joelle Stone
            @joelle-stone

              The stairs led to a hallway, which in turn led to a massive cavern. Majestic stalagmites reached for the floor with stony fingers, falling short twenty feet. Rocks bordered the dark walls, and behind many of them Lytt could see passageways leading off to who knew where. She shivered. How could she and Dharin keep an eye on all of them at once?

              A crack seemed to open up before her feet. It was not large enough for her to fall in whole, but she could easily break a bone tripping in there. She quickly skipped away, flaring her wings to keep her balance. The tip of her boot hit a rock, and it bounded into the hole as if eager. Echoes of its crashes resonated throughout the room.

              Lytt closed her eyes. She’d just alerted everyone and everything that they were there. “Sorry,” she murmured to Dharin.

              “It’s alright.” Dharin replied. “Better a stone than your foot.”

              She supposed that was true.

              Dharin started scanning the room, his sharp eyes alert. Lytt joined him, seeing the menacing shapes the instant he did.

              Wolves.

              On instinct, they stood back to back. Lytt drew one of her knives from her quiver, adrenaline racing through every fiber of her body. Dharin paused, then asked out of the corner of his mouth, “Can you fly?”

              “What?” She heard him clearly, but was confused as to why he asked.

              “Can. You. Fly?” Dharin repeated, enunciating each word clearly.

              “Yes, I can fly.” Lytt slid her other knife from its sheath. She extinguished the snowflake hovering above her left hand, and tossed the other into the air, hoping it wouldn’t melt too fast.

              “Then fly!” Dharin exclaimed as the wolves emerged from their hiding places behind the rocks. “You have a bow.”

              Now she understood. Although the room had a ceiling, she thought that it was high enough for her to soar. The only problem was that she’d have to keep her wings beating constantly to stay afloat, which meant that she’d tire out. She wasn’t sure her powers were going to be an option.

              “Light the torch.” She encouraged Dharin as she leapt into the air.

              Flying in the cavern was not easy. For one, her vision became more and more obscured as the light of her snowflake diminished and Dharin battled wolves by the flickering light of his torch. Shadows danced on the walls.

              All the same, wings beating hard to keep her aloft, Lytt nocked an arrow and drew the bowstring taunt, muscles quivering from the effort. She aimed for a mere fraction of a second, and managed to fell a wolf that was about to pounce on Dharin from behind. He dispatched his at the same moment, and whirled to face another. She’d like to see him pitted against Rebere. That would be a duel.

              Dharin felled another wolf as Lytt swerved to avoid a leaping one, nearly colliding with a large stalagmite. She drew another arrow, held the string to her ear, and released, hearing the melodic buzz and snap as it whizzed past her cheek.

              She dodged her last wolf, but suddenly found herself back-to-back with a cold stalagmite. Another appeared out of thin air beside her, and another narrowly missed slicing her wing from her back. What in the world? Was this crazy cavern against them as much as the castle had seemed to be?

              A startled cry escaped her throat as another stalagmite appeared, efficiently ensnaring her wing in a tight cage. Her wing began to throb as she tried to beat against the stones. How could she fly with only one wing?

              To make matters worse, now her wolf was directly beneath her, snapping at her dangling feet. Lytt tried to wrench her wing free, but that only served to intensify the pain. She stopped resisting, not wanting to break the delicate bones. The only way out of the stalagmite prison was down, and a wolf’s jaws waited there.

              A blade, then another, flashed, bight steel reflecting in Dharin’s fiery eyes. The wolf fell lifeless to the floor.

              Lytt let her other wing droop, and dropped feet first into Dharin’s waiting arms. He set her on the ground, concern clear in the half of his face the torchlight lit. Her snowflake had gone out.

              Lytt massaged her wing, wincing as each movement brought fresh pain. Dharin bent over her, probably hoping to asses the damage, but Lytt spied a black shape slinking up from behind him. Cowardly beasts.

              “Look out!” She cried in warning. Dharin would be too late. It was already springing, jaws open, teeth glinting hungrily…

              Instinct took over. She kicked Dharin as hard as she could in the gut with both feet, sending him flying away. He crashed into the ground, doubled over for breath. The wolf, robbed of its prey, landed a few feet short of Lytt. They stood eye to eye for a moment, the bird-girl and wild dog, before Lytt brought her hand up.

              There was a radiant white flash, and the dog was dead, cold ice protruding from its chest. Lytt rubbed her palms; they were hot from the flying ice.

              Dharin had stood by now, looking at the wolf with an emotion Lytt didn’t want to know. Behind him, a door slowly appeared. It was open.

              “Look.” Lytt pointed behind Dharin. He turned, and his brows furrowed in confusion.

              “What’s going on here?”

              Lytt stood, her wing aching but not broken. “I think I know. This place is testing us.”

              "A writer's life consists of either writing their book or thinking about writing their book." ~?

              #117384
              Gracie
              @kimlikesart

                Teagen blinked a few times, then nodded with a closed lipped smile, “Cool…What’s an Ermordung?”

                “It means murder.” Franz’s voice was stern, face taut.

                Teagen’s eyes widened a bit, lowering his chin he looked Ermordung over, Okay… A chuckle died in Teagen’s chest, and his smile, though perplexed and wary now, stayed in tact.

                What to do? What to say? Teagen glanced around a bit. Meat. Suddenly latched on to his mind as his eyes caught once more on the carcasses. When had he last ate? Suddenly the dogs looked like roast beef…

                Then Er-something-dung spoke, eyes focusing on Franz while at the same time keeping Teagen in his periphery. “Everyone is a murderer in their own way.”

                Teagen’s head snapped up to look at Er.. What?

                But now the man was looking solely into Franz’s eyes. “We may work together, or we may fight. Tis your choice. But, since you all have been here longer, mayhap you can give me some valuable information first.”

                Jominkreesa

                Passion means to be willing to suffer.

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