This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this site, you are agreeing to our use of cookies. Learn More.

Origins - Part 2

Discussion in 'Creative' started by Sissyfoo, Dec 22, 2003.

  1. Sissyfoo

    Sissyfoo Fledgling Freddie

    With a certain amount of trepidation, Jerod made a small parting in the branches and peered through into the clearing beyond. He was no stranger to seeing grim sights in the frontier but, for some reason he could not fathom, the scene presented to him struck a nerve deep within his soul. A scout of his realm was furiously engaged in battle with two giant warriors from the realm of Midgard. Jerod instantly recognised these fierce men as Shadowblades, warriors of the night that could vanish at will and could cut through even the strongest defence as if it were butter. Of course, Jerod had never actually seen a Shadowblade before but he had heard tales of them whilst crouched underneath barstools in the local taverns. Veterans of the great wars often boasted to barmaids about how they had been ambushed by these silent assassins yet managed to escape with at least two of their limbs still attached to their bodies and to emphasise this they would wave their stumps around with pride…much to the disgust of the maids they were trying to woo.

    Amidst the thunderous noise of battle there came a small, barely audible groan. Looking at the ground Jerod saw, curled up beneath a tree in an ever-spreading pool of blood, a young girl. Judging by her chain garments and mace, Jerod surmised, correctly, that this lass was a Cleric…yet, she couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen years of age. This made Jerod’s blood boil! She was but a child, probably the same age as his little sister, yet these…these bastard Shadowblades had seen fit to attack her. Some might say that she was just another casualty in the on-going war but to Jerod this was a girl who had her whole life ahead of her but it had been snuffed out in a callous act of violence. These dogs from Midgard obviously had no honour or they would have spared the girl. Jerod felt a burning desire deep down to do something. This girl HAD to be avenged! But what could he do…? He was just a boy.

    Looking back to the scout, Jerod could see that he too was about to succumb to the violent onslaught of these two barbaric warriors. The scout’s studded armour was no match for the giant cleavers that they swung without pause. Jerod was amazed that they could keep up their attack without even running out of breath. It seemed unfathomable to think that any creature could be this strong. It wasn’t long before the scout’s shield shattered and his defences crumpled. Collapsing to his knees he took one last, longing look at his fallen companion before a cleaver came crashing down on his neck, slicing his head clean off. The head bounced a few times on the ground before rolling to a stop by Jerod’s feet. Jerod tried not to look at it but he was drawn to the eyes which seemed to look imploringly at him before finally glazing over.

    To say that Jerod was scared for his life at this point would be something of an understatement. He was rooted to the ground in fear, not quite sure what to do. Should he run home as fast as he could? What about the young cleric though? She seemed to be still alive…perhaps he could help her? No, not with those Shadowblades still around. He glanced over at the assassins to see what they were doing and was somewhat relieved to see them celebrating their victory with hearty laughter. If they were this relaxed then it meant that they were still unaware of his presence. The cleric groaned again.

    “Oh God! Please don’t make another noise”, he silently urged the girl.

    It was too late though. The shadowblades, with cat-like alacrity had spun around to the source of the noise. Until now they had forgotten about the wounded cleric but now she had their full attention. Despite her severe wounds, she was still a very attractive young girl and the norsemen looked her over with an approving eye before giving each other a lecherous grin. Jerod knew what was coming next; not content with cutting her down in cold blood, these barbarians were now planning on ravaging her dying body. If her wounds did not kill her then their act of violation would surely send her into the arms of the Lord. This was too much to bare. Jerod had stood idly by and watched her companion get dispatched but he could never live with himself if he let this girl be raped to death. It was not in his nature to be noble or heroic. In fact, it wasn’t even in his nature to be nice to people. He was a firm believer in giving what you get and, from most people, he got abuse. However, for the first time in his life he was ready to pick up a weapon and fight to the death. For some reason, knowing that he was about to die gave him a sense of peace. How odd.

    “Damnation”, he thought. Where was he to get a weapon from? Jerod never carried a blade or axe to defend himself as he usually relied on his cunning and guile to elude his enemies. The sharpest tool he had ever wielded was probably the fish knife he used when gutting fish with his Uncle Tomans. He suspected, however, that even if he had the fish knife on him it wouldn’t be of much use. The Shadowblades were moving ever closer to the fallen cleric. He had to act NOW!

    The fallen scout!! Surely he must have a weapon. Jerod slithered along the ground towards the body of the scout, trying desperately not to look at the spot where the head should be. Clutched in the hands of the dead scout was a dirk with a slender blade about as long as Jerrod’s forearm. He managed to pry the weapon out of the cold, stiff hand and quickly glanced up at the assassins to make sure that he had not be spotted. They were still entirely focused on the young girl but, thankfully, they were engaged in an argument as to who should get the first go.

    “She’ll be dead by the time you’re finished, yer filthy bastard. I killed the albion runt so I gets to go first. I’ll make sure there’s some life left in the little bitch when I’m done.”

    Jerod made up his mind to kill the speaker first … assuming, of course, that he wasn’t cut down first.

    “Just keep thinking positive thoughts!” he muttered to himself.

    He quickly patted the scout’s corpse down to make sure that there were no other items that he could use and found, to his delight, another dirk sheathed at the scout’s side. Excitedly, he pulled the dirk out of its scabbard but the noise of metal against leather instantly alerted the bickering assassins to his presence. There was no going back now. He would stand here and fight for this cleric and, quite probably, die trying to save her.

    “Positive thoughts, positive thoughts!!”

    The first shadowblade, the very one that Jerod had marked to kill first, lunged at him with both cleavers. With the adrenaline pumping through his system it seemed to Jerrod as if this great hulk of a warrior was moving in slow motion. He nimbly side-stepped the blow and gave the assassin a little shove, which threw him completely off balance and the assassin fell to the ground with a loud curse. Whirling around, Jerrod saw the other shadowblade approaching him but, again, it seemed as if he was moving in slow motion. Jerrod avoided the flailing blows with ease and jabbed out with his dirks and struck home. The shadowblade roared in pain and jumped back from the attack, cursing Jerrod all the while.

    “Gonna rip yer apart, boy! Gonna flay ya! Gonna gut yer and piss on yer corpse!! YA HEAR ME, BOY?!” the wounded shadowblade roared!

    Jerrod smirked to himself. This was it? These were the famed warriors of Midgard? They were nothing but loud mouthed savages!

    It all felt so right to Jerrod; facing down five enemies who were twice his size was futile indeed, but facing down two enemies almost three times his size when he was armed? That was a whole different matter. The weapons felt … they felt at home in his hands. It was as if they were an extension of his body. He could guide and move them with the same fluidity as if he were waving and pointing his hands. Perhaps this was where his future lay. He had never really considered becoming a warrior. Getting beaten up every week made him look for a less confrontational lifestyle but now? If he survived this mess then he would give it some serious thought!!

    “Positive thoughts, positive thoughts! I am going to live!!”

    The two shadowblades had regrouped and were approaching Jerrod with more caution. They realised that despite his harmless appearance he was not to be toyed with.

    “Boy, ye’ve proved yerself. Now run along home and let us have our fun!” growled the first assassin.

    Jerrod said nothing. He knew they would slice him in two as soon as he turned his back on them…but maybe he could use this to his advantage!

    Taking a deep breath, Jerrod bowed to the two shadowblades and slipped his dirks into his belt and turned around, as if to leave the copse. The assassins looked at each other with wide grins. This was every assassin’s dream; an unarmed foe with his back turned to them.

    They charged simultaneously, each uttering a deep, guttural battle roar! Jerrod closed his eyes, uttered a small prayer and kept on walking, his hands firmly grasped on the handles of the two dirks. This was it...
     
  2. Coim

    Coim Fledgling Freddie

    How about you write part 3 now?!? We've only been waiting a few months... :eek:
     
  3. Sissyfoo

    Sissyfoo Fledgling Freddie

    I tried writing it on paper but I just couldn't do it. I am so used to using keyboards that my handwriting is barely legible. :D
     
  4. Coim

    Coim Fledgling Freddie

    You suck! :eek:
     
  5. Sissyfoo

    Sissyfoo Fledgling Freddie

    Insult me some more. It really motivates me to post my story for bastards like you! :p
     
  6. Coim

    Coim Fledgling Freddie

    I would, but the mods will probably ban me or something. Tilda's out to get me you see. :eek:
     
  7. Sissyfoo

    Sissyfoo Fledgling Freddie

  8. Coim

    Coim Fledgling Freddie

    You'd better come back some time tbh. :(
     
  9. Sissyfoo

    Sissyfoo Fledgling Freddie

    What on earth for? Dil has left, BI never posts...umm, I have to PAY to get my title back. This place sucks balls. The only reason I am still posting here is because I have 45 mins to kill before I can go home.
     
  10. Coim

    Coim Fledgling Freddie

    When did Dill leave? :eek:
     
  11. Sissyfoo

    Sissyfoo Fledgling Freddie

    There. :p
     
  12. Coim

    Coim Fledgling Freddie

    Pfft, he does that every week. :p
     
  13. Sissyfoo

    Sissyfoo Fledgling Freddie

    Good point. :p

    Well, I mean it this time. Its only the second time I've quit the forums and by god I'm gonna make it stick this time around. ;)
     
  14. Coim

    Coim Fledgling Freddie

    I still say you suck. :eek:
     
  15. Sissyfoo

    Sissyfoo Fledgling Freddie

    ~shrug~
     
  16. Daws

    Daws Fledgling Freddie

    I think you're a bit harsh, but I agree :D
     
  17. Kelio

    Kelio Fledgling Freddie

    write more pls its starting to get good now
     

Share This Page