Omfg !!!

B

boromire

Guest
Hehe, great m8y,
But how long u recon till you'll be back with the guild?
If you wish mate I can PM you with the guilds forum adress so you can post some stories there ;)
 
S

stafford

Guest
plz do m8 i lost the link

i shud be back soon fingers crossed
but im off to lemans <fingers crossed again>
shoddy passport system united europe my ass !
 
G

gengi

Guest
Keep it going Stafford, its good.

Later

Gengee
 
S

stafford

Guest
well its been a while, and i cant let shaeff beat me can i ?
/shrug

enjoy :p


The wind stung his face as he burst through the trees, the sound of horns blaring from behind him. Skidding to the left he pressed himself against a great oak tree and held his ragged breath as best he could.
The large black wolf was almost satanic, it shimmered with a dark spectral glow as it approached, betraying the young albions presence to his pursuers, its lips drew back showing the rows of teeth set in its drooling maw, it reared back and howled lunging at the tree he was hidden behind. A naked blade glinted in the light and the wolf yelped before fading out of existence, the young mans danger sense warned him, as he flipped to the left 4 thick broadheaded arrows whined through the air and embedded in the oak inches from his body.
Time was not on his side, he drew his swords applying poison to the blades hastily, even as the first kobold burst through the brush into the clearing.
It was a small one, but its eyes burnt with evil, it shouted in its squeaky voice to its friends and as it did so, notched an arrow to its hunting bow.
The infiltrator swept low, bracing against the tree he launched himself towards the kobold. An arch of purple blood sprayed against the canopy, and as the kobold began to slump dead the Saracen span behind it, laying a hand on its shoulder strap he hurled the creature with all his might towards the approaching pack.
The other hunters tripped, entangled in a macabre embrace with there ex comrade. The Saracen ran, bursting into a sprint a new hope rising as he spotted the tower over the tops of the trees.
A droplet hit his face, he panicked thinking it was blood and span, the heavens opened with a thunderous roar ad the storm kicked up in full.
He dodged a tree and ducked a low branch, sliding across the muddy ground he gracefully toppled upwards and carried on running.
A scream of pain escaped from his lips as the arrow sliced through his leg, putting a hand to the ground he turned and ran back into his pursuers.
Dodging the spear of the first he uprooted the chattering kobold, it squirmed in his arms as he plunged it onto the spear of the huge Norseman behind it, bounding up over the kobold decorated point the Saracen stomped down hard on the blonde mans skull turning in the air he landed to slit his throat. The infiltrator dodged a third spear grabbing the weathered shaft he plucked it from the dwarfs grasp, turning aside another kobolds attack he leapt back and hurled the spear into the ranks of the enemy, a bow answered and a thick feathered arrow whined from the pack and sank into his shoulder
“BASTARDS,” The albion screamed in challenge his injured arm hung limp at his side, they charged, a bristling mass of tridents and spears. The Saracen swept back and pounced again his rapier finding the throat of another kobold, a tall norseman clad in black pushed through the other hunters, his blonde hair falling on his shoulders from under the black facemask, he readied his red spear and beckoned the Saracen in challenge
The norseman gurgled as he fell, a dirk protruding from an eye-socket in his mask
The Saracen screamed again, in fury and pain, a third arrow embedded in his back. He swept with his swords lunging at anything moving, his vision began to blur as a spear caught him between the ribs. He tried to ignore the pain, but pain was all he had felt for so long, he slumped to his knees a final gasp on his lips. He smiled inside, it was his time, and all that filled his thoughts where those stupid limerick contests, his mind focused as a blue clawed hand reached for him, it recoiled ran through by the poisoned dagger, more hands came at him. The Saracen stabbed out but it was too late, he turned the rapier to his breast and suddenly in the maelstrom of evil drooling creatures and fat foul smelling dwarves he found an image he could die with. The rapier sank deep and pierced his heart and he slumped backwards against the tree he smiled as his eyes closed and his head lulled, he would see her again.
 
A

Aileanara

Guest
Why did you hide this great story behind the thread title OMFG !!!
(I hardly ever read them threads)

Keep up the good work :D
 
E

ele

Guest
Wow Stafford, so this is what you've been up to?

Well written and researched, keep up the good work!!
 
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