The Obsidian Tower Ch 1
Ok its finished and reasonably edited, of course there are my customary grammatical mistakes. This is a bit longer than the prologue. But Enjoy, and if you read this please tell me what you think, what did you like or dislike about it.
So without further wait. Here it is
Also if you haven't read the previous part here is the link to the prologue
http://www.animecrazy.net/forums/blo...ian-tower.html
Chapter 1 Part 1
The Demons Without
The best laid plans are often ruined by a single moment of empathy—
Leiv the Shadow Count
Leiv braced his back against the tree, preparing himself for the sudden jerk that was soon to course down the thin rope he held between his gloved hands. His bright grey eyes following the fall of the second watchman, the black mask that covered the bottom half of his face hiding any emotion that might be present. The watchman attempted to cry out as his mind suddenly came to the realization that their was something looped around his neck, this cry was however cut permanently silent as the man’s neck broke from the sudden stop the rope enforced upon his plummeting body.
Leiv let out a barely audible grunt from the strain of holding the mans bucking body aloft, after he took a moment to make sure that the watchman was dead he released the rope, trusting in the snow and wind to muffle any noise that the body made as it hit the floor.
The grey skinned elf quickly analyzed the circumstances in his head. He had dispatched the six watchmen he had found, and from his surveillance of the slave camp he knew that should be all. If he carried on north for another for roughly another four hundred steps he should hit the outside of the cave complex which the camp resided within.
After taking a moment to realign himself the elf took off towards his intended destination, his movements so graceful that he appeared to flow through forest. Leiv looked at the world around him, noticing the polarity that the twilight of the night had brought to the snow covered forest, the eerily white glow of the snow, contrasting sharply with the night and the dark silhouettes of the trees. Voices brought the elf back from his contemplation and he realized he must have overestimated the distance to the cave. He stopped short of the clearing that stood in front of the cave entrance, his bright eyes watching from the concealment of the shadows. His stare fell upon two guards wielding pikes, and if he had not been scoping the area for the previous few day he may not have noticed the two men hidden beneath the snow who wielded a pair of heavy crossbows, hidden beneath expertly made, and likewise enchanted white camouflage blankets. His grey eyes continued to sparkle as he considered the possibilities.
He could of course shadow jump into the cave, though any form of teleportation underground had inherent risks. Any misjudgment of distance could result in the messy occurrence of teleporting oneself into solid rock. There was also the fact that he did not want any guards running up behind him if something unforeseen happened. No, the only option was to eliminate these guards. After all they were scum, men who stole young children and ran a lucrative slave trade with their “stolen merchandise.” And he had been paid to eliminate as many of the slave traders as possible, making it easier for the Harpers to proceed. Leiv let out a small laugh at the thought of the Harpers, of course he wasn’t actually a Harper, nor did he have any desire to be one. It was also likely that the high ranking or more influential Harpers had no idea of his involvement with this operation, they after all didn’t think very highly of the elfin assassin. But the old proverb went that to fight a monster you needed a monster. And for situations like this Leiv new he was exactly what was called for. These slavers needed to be taken out quickly, efficiently, and before any harm could come to whatever innocents there were in the caves. And for this, Leiv was the best gold could purchase.
Leiv let out a sighed muttering to himself, “time to work.” He grabbed the branch above him and swung himself up into the tree, he landed on one knee and beganto sprint forward along length of the branch. By now he heard the yells of alarm as the guards began to notice him. His keen eyes caught the slight movement of the hidden archers, no doubted taking aim. Quickly drawing two hand crossbows from holsters on his legs he leaped from the tree spinning through the air in order to make himself a more difficult target, buying himself the extra second which he required. While the crossbowmen, now on their knees their blankets cast to the side, attempted to realign their shots; Leiv pulled the trigger on both of his hand crossbows. The two darts sailed through the air in parallel arcs, slamming into the respective chests of both crossbow men. Their determined faces turned instead to confusion as they undoubtedly heard the glass vials in each dart crack. They were dead, holes blown into their chest, before they realized that both darts had been loaded with a very potent vial of the highly explosive oil of impact.
The small explosions caused by the darts momentarily stunned the pike wielding guards. Just long enough for Leiv to calmly drop both crossbows onto the smoking corpses of both crossbowmen. He took his time in drawing two throwing knifes hidden in sheaths on his shoulders; waiting for the other two guards to charge him before planting a knife threw the eyes of both guards.
Never having ceased his rush towards the cave’s entrance, Leiv disappeard into the darkness of the cave. After coming round a sharp bend in the tunnel he was following, Leiv noticed that the tunnel he was in was actually well let, and the hewn square shape of the corridors told him that the rock walls had been hewn to their current shape. All this meant to the elf was that there were going to be traps in at least some of these corridors, most likely as a deterrent to escaping slaves.
Noticing the sound boots on rock, Leiv turned down a side corridor. On the other end of the hallway where three similarly armed men, each wielding red shield combined with a long sword, it appears that they hadn’t had time to put on all of their armor however, as two of them wore only helmets, while the third was bare chested, only wearing his boots and pants. “So the alarm was triggered, perfect,” Leiv whispered to himself. The recently deceased guards out front had intentionally been aloud to scream out their cries of alarm before their abrupt end in order to draw the slavers attention to the front and away from the slaves. At first the slave traders would most likely set up a defense, if things appeared bad, then they would likely flee and kill the slaves, or flee and bring the slaves with them. Either way wasn’t an option. Leiv just had to make sure that this went quickly.
The three men had now began to charge the black clad intruder, putting their shields in front of them, forming a wall in an attempt to box in box in the opponent, or force the solitary opponent to fall back. Normally Leiv would have dealt with this quietly but he needed as much attention as possible focused upon himself and not the slaves, wherever they were. So without any further thought, he dropped himself into the flickering shadows wrought upon the floor by the numerous mounted torches.
The men watched in horror as the black masked enemy disappeared into the shadow, only to reemerge seconds later from another shadow behind them. The shirtless man’s mask became a pallet of pure terror, while his two comrades eyes went wide They had of course heard the stories, an assassin with ash colored skin, and grey eyes, who walked through the shadows like a shade out of the nine hells. The men where two frightened to even yell, however to their credit they did somehow managed to push forwards, whether it was out of desperation of courage Leiv did not know. Either way he doubted that they were going to actually be much of a threat. Quickly drawing a dagger and short sword from the odd circular scabbard he wore at his waist, Leiv charged forwards. The first man so unprepared for the overwhelming speed and precision of Leiv’s first strike that he didn’t even manage to lift his shield up to protect his unguarded throat. The second man faired much better, managing to swing his weapon at where Leiv’s neck used to be, before he had ducked the predictable counter and put a sword through the mans chest. The shirtless man had overextended himself with a wild cleave also aimed at decapitating the elf. Leiv bounced upwards off the balls of his feet, catching the man’s elbow on his shoulder, the sudden impact knocking the sword from the man’s grasp. The shirtless man then attempted to batter the elf with his shield. Leiv calmly fell back and launched his dagger into the man’s chest. The half naked slaver collapsed to the floor, his blood slowly pooling around him.
So without further wait. Here it is
Also if you haven't read the previous part here is the link to the prologue
http://www.animecrazy.net/forums/blo...ian-tower.html
Chapter 1 Part 1
The Demons Without
The best laid plans are often ruined by a single moment of empathy—
Leiv the Shadow Count
Leiv braced his back against the tree, preparing himself for the sudden jerk that was soon to course down the thin rope he held between his gloved hands. His bright grey eyes following the fall of the second watchman, the black mask that covered the bottom half of his face hiding any emotion that might be present. The watchman attempted to cry out as his mind suddenly came to the realization that their was something looped around his neck, this cry was however cut permanently silent as the man’s neck broke from the sudden stop the rope enforced upon his plummeting body.
Leiv let out a barely audible grunt from the strain of holding the mans bucking body aloft, after he took a moment to make sure that the watchman was dead he released the rope, trusting in the snow and wind to muffle any noise that the body made as it hit the floor.
The grey skinned elf quickly analyzed the circumstances in his head. He had dispatched the six watchmen he had found, and from his surveillance of the slave camp he knew that should be all. If he carried on north for another for roughly another four hundred steps he should hit the outside of the cave complex which the camp resided within.
After taking a moment to realign himself the elf took off towards his intended destination, his movements so graceful that he appeared to flow through forest. Leiv looked at the world around him, noticing the polarity that the twilight of the night had brought to the snow covered forest, the eerily white glow of the snow, contrasting sharply with the night and the dark silhouettes of the trees. Voices brought the elf back from his contemplation and he realized he must have overestimated the distance to the cave. He stopped short of the clearing that stood in front of the cave entrance, his bright eyes watching from the concealment of the shadows. His stare fell upon two guards wielding pikes, and if he had not been scoping the area for the previous few day he may not have noticed the two men hidden beneath the snow who wielded a pair of heavy crossbows, hidden beneath expertly made, and likewise enchanted white camouflage blankets. His grey eyes continued to sparkle as he considered the possibilities.
He could of course shadow jump into the cave, though any form of teleportation underground had inherent risks. Any misjudgment of distance could result in the messy occurrence of teleporting oneself into solid rock. There was also the fact that he did not want any guards running up behind him if something unforeseen happened. No, the only option was to eliminate these guards. After all they were scum, men who stole young children and ran a lucrative slave trade with their “stolen merchandise.” And he had been paid to eliminate as many of the slave traders as possible, making it easier for the Harpers to proceed. Leiv let out a small laugh at the thought of the Harpers, of course he wasn’t actually a Harper, nor did he have any desire to be one. It was also likely that the high ranking or more influential Harpers had no idea of his involvement with this operation, they after all didn’t think very highly of the elfin assassin. But the old proverb went that to fight a monster you needed a monster. And for situations like this Leiv new he was exactly what was called for. These slavers needed to be taken out quickly, efficiently, and before any harm could come to whatever innocents there were in the caves. And for this, Leiv was the best gold could purchase.
Leiv let out a sighed muttering to himself, “time to work.” He grabbed the branch above him and swung himself up into the tree, he landed on one knee and beganto sprint forward along length of the branch. By now he heard the yells of alarm as the guards began to notice him. His keen eyes caught the slight movement of the hidden archers, no doubted taking aim. Quickly drawing two hand crossbows from holsters on his legs he leaped from the tree spinning through the air in order to make himself a more difficult target, buying himself the extra second which he required. While the crossbowmen, now on their knees their blankets cast to the side, attempted to realign their shots; Leiv pulled the trigger on both of his hand crossbows. The two darts sailed through the air in parallel arcs, slamming into the respective chests of both crossbow men. Their determined faces turned instead to confusion as they undoubtedly heard the glass vials in each dart crack. They were dead, holes blown into their chest, before they realized that both darts had been loaded with a very potent vial of the highly explosive oil of impact.
The small explosions caused by the darts momentarily stunned the pike wielding guards. Just long enough for Leiv to calmly drop both crossbows onto the smoking corpses of both crossbowmen. He took his time in drawing two throwing knifes hidden in sheaths on his shoulders; waiting for the other two guards to charge him before planting a knife threw the eyes of both guards.
Never having ceased his rush towards the cave’s entrance, Leiv disappeard into the darkness of the cave. After coming round a sharp bend in the tunnel he was following, Leiv noticed that the tunnel he was in was actually well let, and the hewn square shape of the corridors told him that the rock walls had been hewn to their current shape. All this meant to the elf was that there were going to be traps in at least some of these corridors, most likely as a deterrent to escaping slaves.
Noticing the sound boots on rock, Leiv turned down a side corridor. On the other end of the hallway where three similarly armed men, each wielding red shield combined with a long sword, it appears that they hadn’t had time to put on all of their armor however, as two of them wore only helmets, while the third was bare chested, only wearing his boots and pants. “So the alarm was triggered, perfect,” Leiv whispered to himself. The recently deceased guards out front had intentionally been aloud to scream out their cries of alarm before their abrupt end in order to draw the slavers attention to the front and away from the slaves. At first the slave traders would most likely set up a defense, if things appeared bad, then they would likely flee and kill the slaves, or flee and bring the slaves with them. Either way wasn’t an option. Leiv just had to make sure that this went quickly.
The three men had now began to charge the black clad intruder, putting their shields in front of them, forming a wall in an attempt to box in box in the opponent, or force the solitary opponent to fall back. Normally Leiv would have dealt with this quietly but he needed as much attention as possible focused upon himself and not the slaves, wherever they were. So without any further thought, he dropped himself into the flickering shadows wrought upon the floor by the numerous mounted torches.
The men watched in horror as the black masked enemy disappeared into the shadow, only to reemerge seconds later from another shadow behind them. The shirtless man’s mask became a pallet of pure terror, while his two comrades eyes went wide They had of course heard the stories, an assassin with ash colored skin, and grey eyes, who walked through the shadows like a shade out of the nine hells. The men where two frightened to even yell, however to their credit they did somehow managed to push forwards, whether it was out of desperation of courage Leiv did not know. Either way he doubted that they were going to actually be much of a threat. Quickly drawing a dagger and short sword from the odd circular scabbard he wore at his waist, Leiv charged forwards. The first man so unprepared for the overwhelming speed and precision of Leiv’s first strike that he didn’t even manage to lift his shield up to protect his unguarded throat. The second man faired much better, managing to swing his weapon at where Leiv’s neck used to be, before he had ducked the predictable counter and put a sword through the mans chest. The shirtless man had overextended himself with a wild cleave also aimed at decapitating the elf. Leiv bounced upwards off the balls of his feet, catching the man’s elbow on his shoulder, the sudden impact knocking the sword from the man’s grasp. The shirtless man then attempted to batter the elf with his shield. Leiv calmly fell back and launched his dagger into the man’s chest. The half naked slaver collapsed to the floor, his blood slowly pooling around him.
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Chapter 1 part 2
Leiv kneeled down to the floor, his eyes unblinking as he wrenched the dagger from the dying mans chest, quickly wiping down the blade on the hem of his cloak before quickly sheathing the blade, and continuing his way down the hallway. The blood of the three dead men slowly oozed down the slight slope of the tunnel after him.
Moving swiftly down the hallway, the tall elf, silently drew two daggers from sheaths on his wrists, and disappeared into the flickering darkness of the deeper depths.
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Leon’s eyes went wide; he stood with his back to the crudely hewn stone wall of a massive underground cavern. This is where the slaves where put to work harvesting adamtium from the ancient stalagmites and stalactites that peppered the grey stone floor and ceiling, until they could be sold to the highest bidder. Normally this room would be full with the chime of pitch forks and shovels, as the slaves inched themselves closer and closer to the precious metal ore hidden within the rock. Today the cavern was deathly quiet, interrupted only by the short cut scream of a dieing man. The slaves to remained silent, an eerie terror inspired still get them still. Not one yelled or screamed from within their locked cages to the right of where Leon stood. The slaves had been ushered into their cells as stop any sort of revolt that this invasion might cause. But at the moment a slave revolt was the least of the worries infecting Leon’s mind.
Leon could hardly move, his breath came in ragged heaves, though he hadn’t physically exhausted himself, a cold sweat had broken out all over his body, dampening his cloths, and the two handed bastard sword he held before him like a shield against the approaching horror; quivered in his unsteady hands.
Leon stood quivering against the wall his mind forcibly replying the events of the past few moments, desperately trying to make sense of what had happened, as he watched yet another man crumple to the cold stone floor. Leon’s bottom lip quivered, it was as if his mouth was trying to scream but his lips were two terrified to part. He and twenty of his comrades had been ordered to take up positions in the main room, in order to stop the enemy infiltration. They had expected perhaps a force of ten plus men, thirty at the most, possibly Harpers or some other sort of self righteous organization which attempted to enforce its morals upon the world of Faerun. Likely this would have been fine, as they knew the lay of the dangerous geography of the cavern floor. On top of that several defensive structures had been crudely constructed, including several stalagmites which had been fashioned into makeshift guard towers. But what they had found in that cavern had been far more fatal.
The men had come into the large cavern, and immediately rounded up the slaves into their respective cages, so as they would be unable to enact trouble during any battle which might take place. And it was while they where putting the last slave into his communal cage that it had struck. Leon could not bring himself to call it a man or even an elf, his mind just couldn’t wrap around that conundrum. No mortal being could move so quick, kill so efficiently. It was as if a grey ghost had appeared among them, where he had went men fell dead, clutching wounds which poured their scarlet blood onto the granite floor. The shadows, like flames on log, seemed to lap at its feet. And with every step he took closer to Leon’s body, with every small group of men who where cut down, like infants in a cradle, and with every silent scream Leon saw in his comrades eyes, more hope drained from his body.
Leon’s eye where finally able to find some semblance of focus, but all he could focus upon was the trail of bodies that was steadily growing towards him. He saw as one man attempted to break for one of the nearby tunnels, and witnessed but couldn’t comprehend how a dagger appeared to grow from his back, his ears filling with the half scream- half groan that was the dying sound of formerly fleeing slave trader.
It moved slowly across the stone floor now, originally there had been an explosion of movement, that had felled five men before anyone could understand what was happening. Since then it had been walking lethargically towards the back of the group where Leon currently resided, some men attempted to charge it, alone at first, hoping to over power it with sheer berserker fury, they had all been cut down with the ease of breaking kindling. Either a scream or the ping of parrying blades accompanied their exit from the living.
The next stage of the slaughter had been those who had tried to rush it with groups of four or five, they had been dispatched with similar ease in moments, their one last solace being the ability to screech an occasional yell or dieing scream, as their blood mixed with their fellow corpses upon the floor.
The final phase was those who either held their ground, whether singular or in a group it appeared to make no difference, or there was those who had attempted to flee, and died in similar fashion to this latest victim. Leon was halfway in between, his legs wobbled in an attempt to run, but the threat of that sudden death held him rooted to the floor. While the gripping fear of his current predicament, clouded his judgment into an indecipherable fog. Would he make it if he ran now, was their just the slightest chance that the creature would miss the vital spot just this once, as he had failed to do all the times before. Or was he better off staying, praying to the gods that it would trip upon a loose stone, or would Leon’s blade somehow manage a life saving phenomena that the goddess of luck, Waukeen herself, would be envious of. Or perhaps it would show mercy. Take pity upon the last of the group, the one who had lived in fear the longest out of all the former living men that had originally been so cavalier upon their entrée into the cavern.
But in reality, Leon knew he was dead, after all how would he manage to defeat this thing, which had obliterated most of the twenty men in minutes. He was merely fooling himself into believing that hope actually existed. Any belief in salvation at this time was simply a farce.
A scream vaulted Leon out of his panicked contemplation just in time to see the last man between him and it crumple to the ground. The gray ghost was mere feet from where Leon stood pressed against the stone wall of the cavern. Its approach was drifty and carefree, as it picked it’s around the puddles of spilt blood which marred the cavern’s floor. A pair of short swords griped loosely in its black gloved hands.
The blood in Leon’s veins now shoved its way through his veins, as if it could escape the approaching death. Leon couldn’t hear his own jagged panting as his ears where assaulted by the discordant pounding of his heart. The handle of the sword he hid behind felt slippery as his palms dripped a cold sweat.
With a sudden break form reality Leon screamed, and rushed forward, rapidly closing the distance between him and the specter of death which he now confronted. Swinging his sword with a reckless abandon, with broad sweeping cleaves, and powerful chops he hoped to knock back his foe. The new found energy and strength a result of adrenalin which the terror of death and sense of desperation had caused. Leon’s eyes were wild, and becoming more crazed as the insanity which his desperation had wrought further consumed him.
But for every sweep of his sword, came a calm almost bored duck or sidestep from the dark specter which danced before him. Sweat beaded down from his forehead and the anger swelled from deep within Leon’s pride as he could tell he was being toyed with, his existence resulting in nothing more than a game of fancy for a monster in a cave. With every bored sigh, with every sarcastic roll of its startling grey eyes and the disinterested posture that it took (hands in a pair of pockets on its hips) only angered Leon further, pushing him past the reaches of self control and reasoning. Gone was his fear and sorrow which had been present only moments before, for all that mattered now was the fury fueled urgency to cleave his opponent in two.
And with one great sweep, one cleave which held the desperation of a dyeing man, Leon stopped and fell to his knees, the cold metal of a blade sliding in-between his ribs. The clatter of metal on stone echoed through the expanses of the massive cavern, as the sword fell from hands which no longer held the strength to grab. Leon grabbed the hilt of sword which protruded from his chest, as if by holding the blade he could stave off death for a few moments more. His eyes looked down to see the blood beginning to stain the white of his cotton tunic, the sticky red liquid gushing between his fingers as he grabbed at the wound. He looked back up to see a pair of sparkling grey eyes inches from his own, the bottom half of its face covered in a dark silken mask.
Those eyes seemed to twinkle and dance, while around them boredom permeated. Leon noticed the expensive white material of the scarf which covered its face, and the small amount of skin he could glean was ash grey but remained smooth and youthful in appearance. But it was those eyes from which his dying stare could not break.
“Mercy” was the final word which would escape Leon’s lips before he began his journey into the afterlife. It was a pitiful word, barely a whisper, and more a rasp upon his lips but it was the product of a life desperately grasping to remain in the light of life. And with a bored disinterested response it replied predictably.Posted 06-01-2008 at 10:46 PM by Leiv
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Chapter 1 part 3
“None”
An with a cold jerk of the blade resting in Leon’s chest the man fell upon the cool ground, his blood slowly mixing with his fellow dead in a shallow dip in the uneven stone floor. His last thought, as his vision faded to black while his heart took its final beat, was of the sparkling grey of those bright eyes, and the terror they inflicted even in death.
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Leiv kneeled over the body of his latest slaver victim. Diligently wiping the blood off the sword he wrenched from the man’s chest with the dead man’s cloak. He hadn’t expected such an outburst of berserker energy from this one. After all he had been hiding at the back of the pack and Leiv wouldn’t have been surprised if the recently decease man had urinated himself in terror. After all it wasn’t like cowards to suddenly develop a spine.
A tingling in Leiv’s arms alerted him to the presence of someone to his right; he quickly rolled in the opposite direction and came up in a defensive crouch. His mind recalled the fact that the demise of many great swordsmen had been a simple act of negligence. But what the elf saw caught him off guard, for when he turned his glance towards the origin of the tingling in his arms, he did not find a slaver he had overlooked ready to cleave him in two with a crude swipe of a blunt axe, but something altogether different, if with a more sinister taint to it.
Against the wall hung what looked like a boy, His chest slumped forwards as his body hung by his hands and feet, which were adhered to the wall by some of themost peculiar shackles Leiv had ever witnessed. It appeared that the bound boy had been forced to wear tight iron gloves and boots which were then hammered into the wall. His mouth was also securely gagged to the point where it had to have half asphyxiated the imprisoned boy.
Leiv cautiously approached his eyes combing the young man for more information as to what was going on. Shallow streams of blood dripped from his feet and hands. His body appeared battered, and was showing early signs of malnourishment, his light brown hair was mattered and caked with grim and more blood. His clothes appeared to have at one time been a well made white robe, but now had become loosely hanging rags which draped from his shoulders. It wasn’t until Leiv had gotten closer that he noticed the slightly pointed ears which adorned the boys head and clearly marked him as a half elf. Leiv deduced that the half elf was most likely an adolescent, from his height and the youthful appearance of his face. But with all this it was the boy’s eyes which mostly caught Leiv’s attention. A pair of light bluish grey orbs, which possessed an intensity to them, and what surprised Leiv the most was that they were open and appeared to be fully aware of their surroundings, darting back and forth across the carnage before them.
The scene was too familiar, Leiv’s mind forcibly flashing him back into a memory he would have preferred to stay just that, a memory. Leiv was yelling in pain, his chest and face pressed high against a wall, his feet dangling in the air, voices yelling in the darkness around him as the slicing pain of a snake headed whip crashed down upon him. This was followed by more blazing, burning pain as the two-headed serpent whip’s fangs sank into his flesh, letting out venoms to further increase the agony. This memory combined with a mixture of fear and anger.
Leiv staggered from the memory and looked up, for a brief moment he thought he saw his own body hanging up there, once again suffering the blows of the drow priestess’s whip. He blinked the image away and continued to stair at the adolescent half elf in front of him. Who by now was returning his stair with those fiery eyes of his own. Leiv already new he was going to do it but was still fighting the urge, reasoning against his growing empathy. After all hadn’t he told himself that when he was carrying out contracts he was to actively ignore any sense of empathy as it could only complicate the delicate art of assassination? Every step Leiv took towards the suspended other was a struggle in itself, each movement feeling magnified. Leiv finally gave in; accepting the actions his sub conscious had been so forcefully pushing. With a sigh the tall elf quickly bridged the distance between them and stood briefly examining the locks.
His magical eyes where able to discern that there was no magical traps from the absence of the blue glow which usually accompanied the detect magic spell which was permanently in effect upon his vision. The use of any magic upon these shackles, which Leiv had now identified as being a magic suppressing metal, would be ineffective not to mention foolish and a waste of energy. This left the normal mechanical traps, but the assassins trained senses from centuries of practice and experience told him there were none. And the grey elf doubted that the slave traders, which he was currently exterminating, were so skilled with traps and concerned with the freeing of this boy to actually have bothered setting up anything so subtle that Leiv wouldn’t notice it with a preliminary glance.
This left only the locks to be inspected. Leiv began to reach back to one of the hollow poles strapped across his back; he stopped with his arm halfway reached backwards. Deciding it would be best to explain what he was doing before hand. “Listen I am making an effort to free you, so sit still, make no noise, and feel grateful that you’re not currently dead. As it appears you might have been if I had decided to leave this up to the Harpers. Understood?” The haggard looking boy managed a weak nod.
After withdrawing a few lock picks from s small leather band at the base of the hollow cylinder, he set to work upon the locks. Apparently it looked like these locks had been forged more to withstand blunt force with a single heavy tumbler, rather than being complicated to try and stop exactly what was happening now. Within moments Leiv had all four locks undone, and managed to catch the boy just before he collapsed to the ground. It appeared he no longer had the strength left to support himself.
“Damn” Leiv whispered under his breath, he didn’t have time to watch over some bird with broken wings. His hand flashed again behind his back, this time pressing a hidden pressure panel, which shot a couple of glass vials, both filled with vaguely glowing liquids one was gold and the other blue. “Drink these; they will help. I don’t have time to explain. Drink the blue first, wait thirty seconds then drink the second. To open just break the top with your thumb. When you can get up and walk, do not worry about the other slaves, help is coming, I want you to go wait at the entry tunnel.” The boy’s eyebrows shot up in a mixture of shock, and a bit of fear. Leiv noticed this instantly. “Don’t worry they are all dead, or dieing. Just pay attention. When you get there wait there don’t move. You’re obviously an art user of some kind. I could tell due to the unusualness of your arrangement.” Leiv hurriedly added this last part as his young acquaintance’s face once again held that look of shock. “This means you should be able to reasonably take care of yourself. Though if you were capable you wouldn’t be in this mess. Once you get their, wait for me to come and retrieve you, if I don’t arrive by the time a group of people wearing silver harp pins arrive, you are to tell them you met me, and that you are one who harps. Is this understood?” The boy began to slowly nod, which at the moment might actually have been as quick as he could move.
A shout from the nearest tunnel snapped Leiv to attention, just in time for him to avoid a crossbow bolt to the chest. He quickly launched a dagger in the direction of the offending archer, looked down broke the top of the blue tube off and pushed it between the boy’s lips. He let go of the boy he was holding just above the ground, hearing the hushed thud as flesh met stone. “Move now” Leiv hissed in a voice so unearthly calm that it carried more threat with it that a blood curdling yell of an orc horde. With that last word Leiv left the newly freed half elf to his own devices. All semblances of his previous moments of empathy abandoned. All that was left was the so called troops, blood was in the water.
With a puff of shadow Leiv was immediately upon his latest opponents and before either of the two could react one had a dagger plunged into ones throat, while his fellow took a short sword through the heart, this one barely managing to scream the words “it’s the shadow count, the shadow count is here” with his final dieing breath.
The third man, the one who had first fired his weapon, lay drowning as his lungs slowly filled with his own lifeblood, as a result of the dagger which was planted in his chest. The word “impossible” fell in a whisper from his lips right before he died. The last image he saw was of a pair of boots walking away, shadow licking at them like a fire.
………………………………………………………………………………………….Posted 06-01-2008 at 10:48 PM by Leiv
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Chapter 1 part 4
“Do you have any idea who this is? Surely you’ve all heard the stories. It’s the Shadow Count. By the nine hells, what do you expect us to do against the gods be damned Shadow Count. We need to get out of here before the last remnants of us are snu…:
“Silence Srihc, I didn’t ask for your opinion on what you think we should do.” Your selling to a disguised Harper is most likely what got us into the damnable mess in the first place.” San placed his hands against his temples slowing massaging the softest patch of his skull. He had always found this helped him think. San’s eyes scanned across the four men who currently accompanied him. To his left, across the wooden table which divided them sat Srihc; his long black goatee and hair blending into the midnight blue of his tunic. Two his right was the twins Karm and Tiol. Both had long curly beards to help ward off the cold of the climate, and their fingers were bedecked in gaudily distastefully rings. Matching broadswords sat across their laps. Across from San was the man they had creatively named the Wizard, for he was the mage of the slaving operation, his brown robe sweeping the floor as he paced back and forth. His balding grey hair was a mess from running his hands through it nervously.
“How would my selling to a Harper have anything to do with this? It’s the Shadow Count, were dealing with. Not one of the Mystra’s bastard Chosen. If it had been one of the chosen we might have received quarter.” The overwhelming sense of resentment and fear which Srich reeked was barely being contained by his words.
Everyone present knew the stories. Arch mages and clerics found dead in their laboratories on lying on thee alter to their respective gods. Kings and their contingent of body guards found slaughtered, sometimes out on caravan, more chillingly was those found dead in their fortress’s courtyards. The stories were a cliché; the realms were littered with the legends of unstoppable assassins and swordsmen, often times at the heart of them being some new hired hand out to make a name for himself. Or in rarer cases true but exaggerated to the point of folklore. But even more of a rarity was when these stories proved to be a reality. For in a world of undead lords, arch mages, and god communicating clerics, predators necessary to keep the balance of the world were sure to have evolved.
“Surely it could not be just one man. After all this isn’t the work of a demon or devil according to the reports. Also we are not deep enough underground to bring the wrath of any of the underdarks creatures upon us. “The wizard’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the underdark, the infamous subterranean world which resided beneath Faerun. It was a well known fact that is where the dark elves dwelt, but other more fearsome creatures also called the underground world home. “It’s dark where the vermin work, maybe the messenger was wrong.” Karm continued, finishing his train of thought. At this proclamation, the bickering increased erupted between the four other men, the twins arguing fiercely with the wizard and Srihc.
San sighed and dropped his head into his hands, his eyes wandering to the dead boy on the floor who had brought the news of the massacre in the slave’s cavern. The boy had half walked half fallen through the door, which lead to this hidden meeting room. After barely muttering out a the words their dead, his voice trailed into a dyeing whisper , the words falling from his lips, “shadow count: at this his eyes opened wide, and his final breath escaped from the confines of his lungs.
The argument around San was becoming heated, his fellows momentarily forgetting the dire situation they were all currently involved in. “Enough,” San yelled, slamming his large tanned hands upon the wooden table for emphasis, his voice immediately silencing the argument raging around him. “It matters not if it is one or a hundred invaders we face, or even if this Shadow Count is the perpetrator. What actually is vital is this. Our men are presumed dead, the invading force is headed here, and we obviously aren’t a match for whomever or whatever it is. We must flee or loose our lives, as the rest of our fallen group have already done before us.” San looked at the faces around the table noticing the strain upon the others expressions.
Srich was leaned back in his seat, his dark eyes and goateed face attempting to appear nonchalant, while his furrowed brow suggested differently. While Karm and Tiol silently nodded their agreement, their matching brown beards swaying as they slowly nodded their heads. And the wizard was busy mumbling to himself as his pacing increased in tempo.
San stood up and began his walk to the door, leading his fellow commanders of the now previous Raven Tail slavers through to the portal. His hand grasped the handle and tried to pull it down in order to open the portal which would lead to freedom, only it wouldn’t move. He put both and on the door and wrenched downwards, this time the door opened, though soon after, everyone present dearly wished it hadn’t. For standing in the doorway was the very subject which they were fleeing from, his mere presence seemed to darken the room around them. The being in front of them was dressed in black, he was adorned in loosely fitting pants and a shirt, with the bottom half of his face covered in a silken black mask, the ending of which could not be seen as it was hidden from view by a white scarf wrapped around his neck. A peculiar circular scabbard hung from a similar silken sash at his hip, the handles of weapons lining the silver circle in a crescent. They could tell he was an elf by the angular features of his face, and the point of his ears which could barely be seen through his thick ash colored hair. Two long cylinders crossed behind his back, the rich brown of the leather straps crossing across his chest. Besides the handles of the weapons protruding from the silver circular scabbards, no other weapons were readily apparent, and his hands where perfectly at ease resting in pockets at his hips.
San stumbled backwards from the door; his blood turning to ice in his veins as the grey skinned elf calmly strolled into the room. The five men looked towards the door as hope drained from their faces. Even the lamps appeared to be turning on the doomed slavers in the room, as the lights slowly flickered down, until the room was wreathed in shadow. The five men just stood and stared dumbfounded, their minds having trouble in processing what it was they where seeing. He existed, the stories were true. The elf strode into the middle of the five and asked one simple question.Posted 06-01-2008 at 10:49 PM by Leiv
Updated 06-01-2008 at 10:51 PM by Leiv -
Chapter 1 part 5
“Do you have anything to say for yourselves before you I dispatch you from this life.” The coldness with which the elf said his proclamation, combined with the expressionless face he portrayed was too much. These words set off the explosion of movement which was too follow. Srihc cracked from a combination of all that had lead up to that point and tried to bolt for the door, hoping to save himself, while his comrades died in his stead. He made it two steps towards the door before two daggers seemed to sprout from his chest, accompanied by the flowing blood which followed, as he crashed in a skid upon the floor, his momentum carrying him towards the exit. Leiv stood his arms outstretched from the throws, and believing they saw an opening the twins Karm and Tiol rushed forward one sword leading the other, as one struck high and the other low. The two, veterans of fighting alongside the other, having spent years covering for the others weaknesses and openings but this proved to be folly against the all too real legend of the Shadow Count. A short sword and dagger appeared in the elf’s hands, as he turned aside their respective blows, while hardly seeming to be interested in what they were doing.
By now the wizard was finishing the chant of his spell, and producing a piece of flint from his pocket called forth fireball, the roaring flame flying from his open hands on a murderous path for their attacker. The Shadow Count spun to his side, easily avoiding the spell, as it exploded upon the door behind him, snuffing the last vestiges of life out of the dieing Srich, with a roar accompanied by a hell piercing scream.
The brothers once again tried to rush the elf, hoping to catch him unable to defend himself due to his evasion of the fireball, this time one lunged for their opponent’s heart, while the other attempted to cleave the elf’s head from his shoulders. The speed of the grey elf’s reaction was remarkable, with one movement he spun inside of the lunging mans guard, while ducking down low enough to avoid both attacks. The moment of surprise this caused appeared to be easily more than what he required, as he came up disemboweling the nearest twin, while at the same time using the moment from his spin to slash across the throat of the other. Within moments both laid dead upon the floor. Their eyes still open in shock.
By now the wizard had finished another incantation with a flick of his wrist, an acidic arrow shot from his hand, slamming into the wall behind where the elf had been standing, dissolving the rock immediately around it in a pool of lime green acid. The wizard quickly pulled a short crooked wand from a pocket, muttering a trigger word even whilst the wand was still being drawn. The end of the wand exploded in a flash of white light as a lightning ripped through the air. The grey elf dropped to his chest, narrowly avoiding the blast and giving a quick glance backwards to see the force of the energy had blasted a small chunk out of the wall. But before the bolt had even left the tip of the wand, the wizard had spoken the command word again, this time the elf rolled to his side, the ground cracking where his head had just lain. The wizard now was yelling the trigger phrase, lightning pouring from the tip of the his wand, and finally one blast connected, the wizard screamed in triumph and then crumpled to the floor, as the elf’s short sword flew end over end to firmly plant itself through the wizards throat.
San looked on in disbelieve as the Shadow Count picked himself up from one knee, his jaw clenched as the lightning coursed around his body, and slowly proceeded forward. San’s eyes went wide in fear, he wasn’t a warrior, and he could barely handle a blade, also he possessed no magic which might be useful to stop the monster before him. San begun to back peddle, only to trip upon the wooden table, landing flat upon his back. He half crawled, half wormed his way further backwards, as his comrades killer slowly moved in. This continued until San had crawled himself into the corner of the room, pressing himself tightly against the walls, as if hoping he could sink through them to safety. He looked around himself in horror, Srihc laid charred and mangled, his blackened arms reaching for the door. Karm and Tiol, had died on top of each other, their blood pooling around them on the floor. The wizard had been slammed against the wall by the force of the elf’s throw; his body now lay crumbled at the base of the wall, his hands clutching the sword which was stuck through his throat. The remnants of his final desperate spell barrage could be seen scared upon the room.
San watched in horror as the elf casually bent over at the waist to look him in the eyes, the only thing he could think of was that the myths where true, he really did exsist. It had taken mere seconds to kill all four of his associates. Despite his best efforts San could not help but return the elf’s gaze. His own wild eyed, desperate brown orbs were in stark contrast to the eerie calmness of the elf’s bright grey eyes. San managed to stammer out the words “by what right do you have to do this?’” And in what would be the last surprise in his life, the monster that was the Shadow Count answered his question.
“This,” and with that a sword was plunged into San’s chest. He felt the cool piercing fire race towards his heart, and vaguely noticed the blood bubble from his mouth. His vision began to fade at the corners of his eyes, the darkness of death leaking into his eyes, robbing him of sight. The only noise he heard was the haggard intake of breath he still needlessly sucked down into his failing lungs. The last sights he would see was of his assassin slowly walking away from his dyeing body, shadow licking at the hem of his cloak, and as he looked down, his own crimson blood swirling around his body. San’s eyes finally closed as death devoured him.
Hope you enjoyed it will try and have chapter two done by this time next week
Posted 06-01-2008 at 10:50 PM by Leiv
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nice.nice good workPosted 06-02-2008 at 10:22 AM by ~Dany~
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Good so far now onto part 2Posted 06-03-2008 at 01:12 PM by SSJ5
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Is anyone actually reading this?Posted 06-04-2008 at 12:16 AM by Leiv
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This is really good....but to be honest it didnt hook me in, because almost every book i have read hooks me in from the first chapter otherwise i dont bother reading the book. However in this case i liked the prologue. I like the way you go into detail. Also i found it weird how u described one character as two, at the beginning. The bit where u mentioned leiv in one place and the elf in one another place
Posted 06-22-2008 at 05:31 PM by Rupks
Updated 06-22-2008 at 07:49 PM by Rupks -
sorry to say but notin specialPosted 07-17-2008 at 09:36 PM by Crazyasian82
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