(NCSoft owns most of the things mentioned in the story. I didn't bother to fully edit yet, grammar etc, I hope you enjoy so far. More to come! I also don't know how to fix the format, but I'll figure it out. -Fioren)
“We just need information!”
“Oh?” there was a pause, “An interesting place to come looking for such a thing,”
Silence.
I can easily call my company ready in Rune if you will cooperate.” The voice was human. A firm commanding voice, one that was custom to forceful orders.
Oh, by the Gods,” there was a score of laughter that echoed through the night. Cold, heartless laughter, “Do you know how many times you have tried that?”
“N-no…”
“Is that fear I smell human?” The other voice was laced with an accent from across the oceans. A cold, frigid echo was left after the words subsided.
“If you forget those situations, we can make a fine deal,” The human speaking, clad in silver armor baring the Aden insignia on the chest began to lose his sense of command. Literally hiding behind the commander, a woman dressed in silvery robes along with another lower ranking soldier.
“A deal?” the words hissed with the accent, the commander and his small escort cringed and shrank slightly. “You make a deal with me!” a laugh, “After we sought to destroy your stupid leader, Baium, whom now resides in that annoying piece of filth,” apparently at this time, the speaker gestured off into the distance. The human and his companions looked at the blurry tip of the Tower of Insolence. “Then, you order the execution of my family!” There was a long silence.
The human decided to break it.
“Lord Von Hellman,” the commander stammered, “Please reconsider, it is for the betterment of Aden and all its people.” The human blinked for a moment, waiting. He stared directly into two gray eyes.
Being empty space before now stood a fairly tall figure clothed in a long black cloak. The commander couldn’t help but notice the intricate golden designs of the vest within the jacket. The only odd thing he noticed was the two bat like wings folded behind the tall gray haired gentleman. The gaunt features, burning red pupils and immense sadness only told him that he was speaking with Eilhalder Von Hellman, father of the infamous Von Hellman family.
He had heard stories of this family. How they were skilled in dark magic’s and conspired against the Kings family, as well as Emperor Baium, whom was lost to the Aden people after the Elmore-Aden war. The Von Hellman family was apparently purged from the country and now resurrected as the living dead, a long lasting rebellion of the king’s family still continued. Sadly, the spell only let them reside within the Forest surrounding the Rune Townships. The locals dubbed it the Forest of the Dead. The reason the command was frightened out of his mind was that he was standing in the midst of Hellman’s harem of vampires. The Lord’s throne behind him crawled with several vampric women, moaning and hissing. While the Vampire Lord had been seated, they constantly continued to touch him and caress his hair. All of the vampires, gray and timeless seemed beautiful in their own sick sadistic ways. The life of this poor Aden commander was now on the line.
“Tell me your name,” Von Hellman whispered, now directly in front of the human. His presence was something powerful, the female mystic behind the commander felt some sort of unseen power surrounding Von Hellman. Pure, undefined evil. The Aden soldier considered the…request. For some reason, his mind told him it was an order that he had to follow.
“Gregory, Third Paladin to General Haroldo of the Aden Military!” The human, now Gregory, felt that it was necessary to give his full, boring title. Von Hellman stroked his chin for a moment, a slender finger moving slowly over the small stubble beard. The vampire appeared to entertain the thought.
“Paladin?” the Vampire Lord seemed to question it, looking the warrior of light over for a moment. “And your friends, Mr. Gregory?” Almost snapping to immediate attention, Gregory introduced them without hesitation.
“That is Relina, a Cardinal of Giran’s High Church,” Gregory gestured to the pretty brunette, “Yonder is Jon, Lieutenant of the Archery Division of Aden,” After Gregory spoke, the next two minutes fell in utter silence. Von Hellman scratched his chin once more, flexed his bat like wings, observed the Cardinal for more than needed, then returned his dull gaze to Gregory.
The vampire merely nodded. Gregory blinked and the Vampire Lord was again sitting amidst the lustful women of his harem, seated atop his throne of black bones.
“You and your titles, I attain so much humor in that you know,” Von Hellman’s accent trickled through the bitter cold of the night. “I still do not understand, Paladin Gregory,” the vampire leaned forward for a moment, resting his palms on his knees, “A man of light such as yourself, brought up under the care of Einhasad herself,” The name of the Goddess was spoke with some touch of bitterness, “Would come to such a place, as here,” one hand gestured about the ruined homes and tall looming willow tree’s, “To seek…information. Concerning what?”
Gregory opened his mouth to speak, the Vampire seated in the bones held up a hand for silence.
“Far from finished, human,” Von Hellman considered for a second, not using the term human. He had once been one correct? After what they had done however, the Vampire King would not associate himself with such infidels. “Anyways,” he leaned back idly petting one of the vampires ladies lock of black hair, “So, I plainly ask, before I suck the beautiful pulsing blood from your veins,” he paused, “What the hell do you want?”
“Well, we …we have a problem. Slightly, I suppose,” Gregory was becoming uneasy. The vampires that had been lurking in the shadows had sauntered out, checking their short swords and daggers in the moonlight. “One of our greatest Grand Masters, Archmage Heilion, has gone missing. We gathered he was kidnapped, from evidence,” Gregory paused and glanced around. His hand felt the hilt of his sword; “He has done many things for us, sealed up the Tower, the Great Imperial Tomb. Apart from that, sightings of flying dragons, mounted by the dark elves soar in the direction of The Wall Argos.”
Von Hellman fidgeted in his throne.
“We want to know more…about this wall. The Imperial Tomb, it was more in your era. And of,” Gregory paused, not so sure if it should be spoken, but something told him otherwise, “Your knowledge of Prince Frintezza.”
(Here is more, still trying to figure out the format so it is easier to read. More to come, I didn't bother to edit either haha. Enjoy~)
The whole forest stopped. The wind, the whispering of the trees, the heart beat of the dead. The air around the humans and the vampire counsel was still. Gregory gulped, his numb fingers curling around the hilt of his sword. Von Hellman sat motionless for a moment. Lazily, the vampire Lord rose. Gregory merely blinked then immediately felt his face slapped to one side. Stumbling slightly, the Paladin’s vision blurred for a moment. Von Hellman stood over him, hand raised from the slap with the back of his gray hand.
“FOOL!” the vampire hissed, “The past is meant to stay dead! Like this forest!” Von Hellman lowered his hand, rubbing it gingerly. “Kneel!” Von Hellman snarled. Some unseen force around the humans shoved them to the floor. For a moment they resisted, then their ambition trickled away. “Do you feel that?” the vampire once again did not wait for a reply, “That is influence of the One you speak of!” with an elegant gesture towards the female Cardinal. Her body twitched, a spine-chilling scream echoed off into the forest. “That is the pain of the One you speak of!” several vampire ladies giggled, Von Hellmen whirled around, their laughter instantly stopped. The brunette healer continued to scream.
“Stop it!”
“Silence, Paladin Gregory. You dare bring up that name in front of my people.” Von Hellman watched the woman writhe in pain. Gregory tried to stand; something heavy was holding him down.
“Well.. it … obviously touched a nerve!” Gregory growled struggling against the invisible bonds. The screaming stopped, Von Hellman wandered closer to Gregory. Gesturing up with a skinny gray finger, Gregory’s body, armor and all, rose in the air before Von Hellman floating.
“Brilliant deduction human! You came into my forest to shout such a name?”
“No,” Gregory struggled a few inches above the ground, “We came to ask what exactly he is! I only know… **** .. it,” Gregory struggled more, nothing helped, “Frintezza was a Prince! It is linked…somehow Lord Von Hellman, to our greatest Archmage being kidnapped.” Gregory let out a sigh and slumped exhausted.
Von Hellman let Gregory fall to the ground in a heap of armor. The Paladin collected himself, as did his silent companions. The Cardinal shivered slightly muttering to herself, staring at the vampires. “Well, I suppose, you came this far. But be fair warned, dear Gregory, that name is poison to our ears. It pangs me to tell you such a story, since I don’t particularly care of your silly magister, dragons, the Argos and what not...” Von Hellman paused and paced for a moment, “While I was human my family disagreed highly with the doing of the King. So, being one of the most influential families in the Aden-Elmore regions, my lovely kin and I,” he gestured kindly to his vampire children, “I can’t believe I am telling this to you,” the vampire muttered returning his attention to the humans, “Anyways, we decided to end the reign of the King. Several revolts, battles, this and that occurred. My mother, rest her soul, locked us all up in our families castle off the Elmordean coast.” The vampire paused to compose himself.
Off in the distance crows cawed loudly.
“Apparently, while we hid, fearing the punishment of our naughty deed. Attempting to assassinate a King in such a peaceful time was definitely a no no. The King brought together his closest advisers, namely King Baium, whom now resides at the top of the Tower. Grumpy fellow. He also brought along his loyal, prissy, idiotic, young and did I forget foolish, son, Frintezza. Soon to be Prince after his father died, but that is another bedtime story. They came after us, killing every last one of us. Since most of Von Hellman’s ability in magic was glorious, we cast ourselves into an undead state, if you could say. And here you have us, hi!” Von Hellman waved humorously at the humans, “Anyways…Frintezza yes. After his ignorant father journeyed up to the Tower. Frintezza was left alone, my families blood probably still crusting under his finger nails. The royal Families of Aden decided the use of the Imperial Cemetery was not good enough for their fallen kin. So, they planned for a larger, grandeur scale place to lay their dead. The Imperial Tomb. I remember traveling there actually, before we had our little scuff. The family worked twelve years on that gloriously, gigantic tomb. Many people died in the process, cutting away at the rock. Finally, it was done. Nestled in the back of the Argos, it was safe from enemies. Lesser family members buried in the frontal tombs, the title family members, Princess, Prince, King’s so on, buried much deeper behind enchantments, patrolling guards and such.” Von Hellman paused to see if the humans still were paying attention, “Well, poor little Frintezza fell ill, many rumors or gossip surrounded the reasoning. Some said his fathers madness took him over, making deals with devils and demons. Frintezza finally died. The Imperial Tomb at this time had been sealed for a few years; the processions and burial process took to long for the family. Unsealing the enchantments around the Tomb, they buried Frintezza in the last chamber,”
A dagger was sheathed somewhere in the shadows.
“Since he was such a decorate war hero, blah blah, the builders made the chamber extravagant, a large portrait of him apparently hangs above the large organ that he was obsessed with playing while in his youth. During the burial process, many of the builders and priests fell into some sorts of madness, screaming blasphemy and the usual, finally killing themselves. Most said it was the curse Frintezza left, or had upon him. After the stupid little boy was put to rest, they sealed the Tomb. Twice over, enchantments beyond your wildest dreams.”
“Our Archmage Heilion, the one missing, led the wizards that sealed the Tomb.” Gregory added. Von Hellman titled his head.
“And thus, the Tomb is still there…silent. Since the Wall is dangerous, many travelers claim to hear the faint melody of an organ playing, but of course that could be a whole bunch of silly nonsense. I would however, if I ever get the chance to see that fool again, stab his eyes out. So, there you have it human, your information.”
“Do you think that is where these kidnappers are taking Heilion?” Gregory asked.
“You think I would know such a thing? Hardly. Now, be gone before I kill you all.” Von Hellman turned, returning to his throne. “Good luck though, you’ll need it.” Gregory and his companions all bowed respectfully, “Do not dig up the past Paladin, it will kindly bury you in return.”
(A bit more, all still the same storying. The format is still being stupid. If anybody knows how to put it into paragraph from with tab in's let me know. Or I will just put it into paragraph form for easier reading. I did my own, visual rendition of a Ghost Hunter vs. Wind Rider. It has a part in the plot, promise. Hope you enjoy, more to come. Fio!~)
The shadows always held secrets. One could slip in, and then slip out. Unnoticed. A living shadow, dripping from the darkness stepped into the moonlight. In the dim glitter of the moonlight, the dark skinned being was tiptoeing lightly across the soft dirt. The long flowing gray hair flicked lightly in the still air. Her clothing meshed with the darkness that surrounded her, minus the dull moon. The black leather meshed with every curve of her body. She suddenly stopped, the crimson eyes narrowed for a moment, her head jerked to the left, the to the right. A loud howl echoed from the Argos behind her. A gloved hand snaked its way to the dagger nestled on her backbone in a small sheath. Clicking the clasp gently, the dark skinned woman sank slowly to the ground. The moon caught her visage for a moment, the dull shadowy skin, crimson eyes, and beautiful features. Dark elf.
Inspecting the ground with a soft touch, she leaned up slightly. Her enemy was close. But where? Blinking, she stood at her full height. She was called Sitli. One of the rare Ghost Hunters of the Aden nation and the Dark Elf community. One of the Lady’s best assassins. Her mind was disgruntled however. Sent to guard the entrance of Argos? She was no peon. She had slain her fair share of demons and humans alike. Nothing stood a chance against her. Nothing.
This foe however, was something different. The only other opponent she had faced that gave her trouble was that woman…or was it a man? They called her Erica. Scowling at the thought, Sitli returned to the task at hand. This foe moved like the winds. A whispering, fleeting instant in the back of her mind. Closing her blood red eyes for a moment, she sent a small plea to Shillen. The air changed direction for a moment, a soft wind fluttered behind the Hunter. Swirling around with supernatural speed, a flicker of steel, Sitli was poised in a defensive position. Nothing was behind her, the infinite sand that lead through the chasm into Argos. The dagger in her hand hummed slightly, glowing a soft faint tint of ruby. Soul Separator. One of the very few, forged from the fires of the Forge of Gods.
Her enemy…was it even here? Perhaps the three nights she had spent standing guard over the entrance had driven her past sanity? Her ears twitched for a moment, it was here. She felt it. The presence, the constant breathing, a soft hint of magic? She cringed. The last time Sitli encountered some forceful magic, the end result did not work. However armed with her own dull magic, she could not match anything the Lady could produce, or any of the magisters of the House.
There it was! A flicker at the corner of her eye.
The air became deathly still. Sitli whirled around; time seemed to slow down slightly, everything moved in small instances. The dirt around her exploded upward into a vortex of dust. Her keen eyesight caught a crystalline dagger purging through the dust towards her shoulder. Crystal? An elf. But…why…here? Before she could contemplate the situation, the dark elf back flipped avoiding the glittering dagger. The dagger whirled in the dust for a moment, then redirected towards Sitli. The dark elf sidestepped and jogged backwards out of the dust. The glint of the crystal weapon faded then reappeared in the hand of an elf. The dust settled around the slender pale figure. It was a male…a boy? The elf looked very young, granted probably reaching thousands of years, but his features contained some sort of youth. Sitli grinned; her beautiful features became less tense. Killing such a young soul would entertain her lust for blood.
She noticed the elf’s garb, it was slightly simple. Some sort of light, white glittering mail? It fit perfectly to his slender body, especially the way he apparently moved through that dirt cloud towards her.
“What do I owe the pleasure?” Sitli asked kindly, their distance was perfect. Both out of reach of the other, the large dirt field they faced off in, before the Argos, were opportune for such a fight. Sitli was slightly aroused at the thought.
“You continue to poison the land, fair cousin,” the voice of the elf resembled the wind. Light and soft, some sort of accent trickled in. “Leave the The Argos, leave your goals behind. They are dangerous, for us all. Return to your home in the forest, all will be forgiven,” a soft smile flickered across his smooth, hairless face.
“Oh, fair cousin,” Sitli mocked, “I’m afraid I must decline such a suggestion, my Mistress forbids so,” Sitli gave a small pout. To keep awake and alert, she flipped the Separator downward, planning her next mortal strike.
“Then the punishment is death. It shall be dealt quickly. I promise upon Eva!” the elf proclaimed, his boots slid forward slightly. Sitli tensed. The wind changed direction again…wait…there was no wind a moment ago! The elf stepped forward, for a moment; Sitli had dropped her guard, for a moment. The figure of the white armor flickered slightly, blurred. It darted from left to right, faster than anything Sitli had seen. Before her there was a swirl of motion. To the naked eye, the movements would probably be unseen, but her trained eye saw the elf now before her, in full spin, his dagger close to his heart. Sitli blinked, twirling the Separator into action. Putting the dagger before her, she braced.
Nothing happened.
Suddenly, an intense pain surged up her arms. The elf let out a small cry as the crystal tip of the dagger plunged between the twin blades of the Separator. A blast of wind exploded behind Sitli dust clouding behind her. She had blocked his stab. She blocked it! The elf was stunned for a moment, collecting his wits; he gingerly pulled the dagger away and basically was back where he was. Sitli shook her hands, interesting. ‘The way he moved. That was no teleportation; he could have been behind me if he did that’ she thought, ‘Wait…’ Sitli slid closer, the grip on her dagger tightened.
“Wind Rider!” it was a soft breath.
He was gone.
“You are the best, they were right.”
The whisper floated like the wind behind her. She flipped to the side, rolling along the dirt. The elf stabbed his dagger into the ground. A large pulse of wind followed afterward leaving a nice crater in the sand. Sitli jumped to her feet, located her target, she sent the dagger toward his armor shoulder. The elf sidestepped. Twirling, as if in an intricate dance, Sitli followed returning another stab to his stomach. The Rider beat it away softly, lifting into the air, Sitli felt him vault over her. She whirled around, blocking another devastating stab. Focusing, her eyes closed for a moment, she saw it. The weakness. With a cry, Sitli released a small surge of force towards the Wind Rider, the Separator hummed loudly, and heading for a small part of the elf where the armor had not covered. The elf moved slightly, the Separator slammed into his elbow, the armor grinded. Sparks exploded from the white plate as the elf flipped backwards into the air. Landing like a straw doll onto the dirt.
Taking no chances, Sitli raced towards the downed Rider with intense haste. She raised her dagger, ready for the final, deadly blow. The tip of her dagger raced towards the armored heart. It would rip through his soul. The elf rolled to the side, kicking at her feet. Sitli stumbled slightly, blocking a small stab at her calve. Sliding along the dirt, she whirled back around for another go. Sprinting towards the Rider, whom was now up, Sitli focused on another location.
She had him! The Separator raced towards the Rider. As she reached him, the elf stepped forward. She felt a gently touch on her shoulder, her motion stopped. Something overcame her, an unseen force whirled her around rendering her immobile and prone to a finishing move.
A bluff.
Sitli panicked for a moment, not a trait of many dark elves. She shook off the mental bind the elf instated upon her and ducked. The elf stabbed above her hairline. Kicking behind her, the elf crumbled. Flipping back to full height, she stabbed. Moving with wind like grace, the elf blocked her attack, returning the stab towards her. His moves where perfected, they had purpose. ‘What is wrong with me!’ her mind howled, she parried one of his oddly gentle stabs. She had surmised that his stabs focused on softer touch, then directly after a forceful wind would deliver the actual damage. She cursed such odd magical means. Their fighting went on for a while, the same graceful dances. Occasionally one would move off, then dart at the other. Sparks jumped here and there. A small lingering dust cloud formed around the two combatants. The elf would flicker from existence, his haste like ‘teleportation’ Sitli had dubbed it, then return to form behind her. She had to learn that. Towards the later end of the battle, Sitli had landed a lethal shot to his ribs. The elf was reasonably hurt.
There was a loud explosion of steel upon steel. Sparks exploded in all directions, the wind vortex that swirled through the two, thanks to the Wind Rider, put dust in the Hunter’s hair. They leaned against each other, trying to force the other dagger to buckle. Finally, kicking off from each other. They faced off. It was over with. Sitli wanted it to end. Slouching low, Sitli sprinted towards the elf, he, like the wind, did the same. There was a small glitter of steel as they passed each other with blinding speed. Sitli, now past him felt a small twinge of pain in her arm. She noticed a small slit, blood trickled softly. Cursing, she launched into the air, twirling around she sent the Serpator flying at the elfs back. The dagger spun in the air with excruciating speed. The Separator passed the elf. He faulted for a moment then fell to the ground. The Ghost Hunter now stood over his downed body, the Separator back in the sheath.
“I win.”
She kicked the slender body. Nothing. The armor clinked slightly. She had noticed the uneasy wind had disappeared. She glanced at his dagger for a moment. It was nice. Perhaps…a spoil of war? Something told her otherwise, stepped daintily over the elf, she returned to her post. One of her supply packs had to have something for her injuries. Her ribs had begun to scream in pain, but she showed no sign of pain, due to her nature.
Something whispered past her ear. A soft wind. She stopped, her eyes flicked from one side to another. She laughed at her own paranoia and slipped back into the shadows. The Wind Rider was nowhere to be seen.
this is coming along nicely. :) can't wait for more. i've never been able to figure out the correct formating so i simply copy/paste from MSWord then manually go back through and add the spaces and i don't worry with the indentions here, although on my file they are there. :)
Good read. wonderful application of the Dark elf and Light elf dagger classes.
The Separator passed the elf. He faulted for a moment then fell to the ground. The Ghost Hunter now stood over his downed body, the Separator back in the sheath.
“I win.”
She kicked the slender body. Nothing. The armor clinked slightly. She had noticed the uneasy wind had disappeared. She glanced at his dagger for a moment. It was nice. Perhaps…a spoil of war? Something told her otherwise, stepped daintily over the elf, she returned to her post. One of her supply packs had to have something for her injuries. Her ribs had begun to scream in pain, but she showed no sign of pain, due to her nature.
Something whispered past her ear. A soft wind. She stopped, her eyes flicked from one side to another. She laughed at her own paranoia and slipped back into the shadows. The Wind Rider was nowhere to be seen.