A Paladins Tale

[Pale_Horse]

The Curse: A Diablo Inspired Story

Preface
Thank you for taking the time to read this. It's out of bordem really that this came about. This will be an on going tale I have finally decieded to put down into words, please forgive any grammer errors. I would ask that you please do not spam any messeges in here. Feedback, of any kind is welcomed.


Prologue

Crimson life, it covered his body. His trusted companion, Damitri, lay breathless in his lap. The blade was not meant for him, but none the less it found a home, as it slashed threw the throat. Only a few muscles prevented a complete sever of the head. Blood pulsed out, with every painful beat of the now dying heart.
For close to eleven years, Zavier, and Damitri, have fought side by side to rid towns of the ever growing demon horde, for a price of course. Now, in this dark unholy temple, Zavier can here death creeping forth on all sides.
With much care, and ease, Damitri is gentally put to the ground. "I will make them pay, my brother, I shall avenge thee, if it takes the last bit of my being." He rises with mace in hand, and charges into the darkness. A white knuckled grip, strengthened with emmence rage, sends the mace crashing with superpower like power upon numbers of zombielike beings, as well as animated skeleton remains. Still their numbers are many, for every one that is dropped, their is another to take its place. With lightening speed, five consectutive hits find its way to the Gardian who is reanimating the cursed piles of bones that make up the attacking mob.
Before the mass of deformed flesh can contact with the ground, a searing pain makes its presents known from his lower back. His knees buckle, warm liquid trickles down onto the slime covered brick floor. Another stab, this time from his thigh screams.
The horde covers him, every muscle tense. His time has come. A scream escapes his lips.
Zavier awakens with a shock, his hand, tightly gripped around the ancient axe that never leaves his side. It's magic tingles up his hand, and threw his arm. Calm takes hold, "A dream, only a dream, sir." His head darts towards the voice. Sleep still clouds his mind. For a moment he is unsure of his surroundings, as well as the company he is keeping. Reality sets in slowly, Horris his guide, eyes Zaviers hand.
" Only a dream sir, you are safe."
Realizing his weapon Shatterstar, still in hand, he preplies, "Forgive me, instinct." A apologetic smile faintly shows upon his lips.
He stands with a stretch, and a yawn. The back of his right hand wipes the left corner of his mouth. He looks up to the night sky, stars are twinkling brightly. Heat from the camp fire warms his face.
"For how long have I slumbered Horris?"
"Dawn appears over the horizon soon, sir."
"I must not be disturbed as I pray, Horris. My faith is all I have left, after, we will proceed to the town. We shant be long here, if we are to find him."
"If, he is still alive, that is." says Horris
"Have faith, my guide, Cain still lives, I am sure of it. His knowledge is greater then any known in all the lands. For this I am in need of his aid."
They take time to eat, freshly killed boar is on the morning menu. As they feed they converse a bit, then set out at first light, before the heat from the sun becomes too great.
Zavier gathers his axe and guard in hand, then tucks hit hammer into his belt, while Horris finishes his preperations by throwing his bow over his shoulder and sheething his sword. He reaches his hand back to his pack to assure that his arrows are accessible. With a nod the two set out again towards the town.
The desert summers in Laramar can drive a man to see and hear strange things. Their are many tales of ventures taken out into this land where champions and those in search for riches, return with frail wits and aged many years over, but many do not return. Consumed by the unforgiving desert sand, and anything else that, awaits the unprepared traveler.
The sun is overhead, when, they begin to hear a strange noise. A angelic voice is carried by the wind, it is a soothing hypnotic sound. Both Paladin, and guide look at one another in reasurence to see if the sound is real or if the heat has made them crazed.
Zavers eyes widen "Cover your ears, do not listen!"
With much haste both rip off their packs and find some fur from their sleep lining. They proceed to pack the fur in their ears. As they do so, a thick green vinelike appendage snakes up from the sand below tiny thorns protrude glistening with poisonous liquid. It slithers across the ground until it reaches Zaviers left leg. The vine tugs hard, making his balance off, as he falls hard to the ground. Shatterstar the mighty magical axe is set loose from his hand. He claws at the desert floor as he is pulled futher from the weapon.
"Horris, Horris! Help!" He yells in his direction. Then notices, that Horris is in a worse predicament then he.
Both of Horris's legs are wrapped with the vine. He is haking wildly with his sword at the vine, as he is quickly pulled toward a growing mound of sand. A milky liquid flows from the cuts made by the sword. This liquid trails off onto Horris's legs that are now a deep red, from the lack of blood flow. A final swing sends the vine limb reeling with pain back to the mound without its target. A loud muffled screech is heard from under the earth. The ground begins to violently shake. Horris tries to scurry away but, his bloody legs are parilized with toxins from the thorns, and throbbing from the blocked off blood.
"Help me Horris!" Cries Zavier.
Horris peers over to his companion, who is now feet away from his weapon. Covered mid chest down in vine. Neither hand free to defend himself against the evil.
Quickly he grabs for his bow, that is still over his shoulder, and knocks a few shots off from his pack, that is just in arms reach. Three of the four shots find its mark just below the feet of Zavier. A wiff of sulfer lingers in the nose as the magical arrows burn the vine enough to have it scurry away in a charred mass. The mound crests and eight giant green and purple flower peddles explode from the ground. It towers over them by ten feet, with twenty or more thick vines whipping around in the air. These thick leather like peddles peel back to show a ring of huge dagger teeth. Both fighters unable to move due to the poison are helpless. Only thing Horris can do is unleash his remaining arrows at the overgrown vegitation. Eight easily hit lighting up tiny fires.
Zavier having a decent tolerence to poison stumbles to his feet, readies his axe and shield, then full on charges into the beast. A deafening thunder crack sound rips threw the air, as the thing pops. Green, purple bits fly everywhere, as well as, the white liquid, covering both travelers.
Zavier collapes to the ground. "This will take days to get off, and it smells wretched. What was that thing. Are you ill my friend?"
"Pifft! pifft! It paste life horfe pies. Pifft! Uhh. Groff. I amf fell."
Both lay their laughing for some time. After regaining feeling, they tend to the wounds,while Zavier, uses his skills to heal their exposure to the poison.
They finally enter town soon after sundown. Towns people causiously eye them, as their walk ends at the Greymalkin Inn.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Part 1

"I say, this ooze, is most impossible to rid ye self of." Says Horris, with a turned up nose. "And, this foul odor is wretched."
Zavier swings open the old wooden door. It growns loudly, as it is moved from it's natural spot of rest. Holing it open with his right hand he motions for Horris to enter first. "I will pay extra for a full basin, to bath in, if thy are able."
The room is full of chatter, and drunkards cheer. Attention is focused on a central caged pit, within are a pack of four wild dogs loosely tied to a rod in the far left wall, and middle aged male, with a rather large white wolf on the other end. This man is ragged and frail, wearing a pelt of a bear over himself. Their is an essence of wisdom and strength upon his visage. A silver mane shines like diamonds under the long dead grizzly helm.
The pack is dirty, flee infested and covered in mange. The old rope frays litlle by little by every tug the dogs make. One of them, furred in onyx salivates wildly. Its yellow teeth are like daggers, easily able to rend flesh, let alone snap bone.
In the distance, the crowd parts, making way for a towering man with long golden locks. His huge frame easily supports his sparkling Mithral armor. He raises his hands and slowly turns his body around to parade to the masses, a clever grin of perfect teeth glisten in the dimmly lit tavern. After circling back to the point of origin, he says with a hint of arrogence and a deep commanding voice.
"For crimes against our people, by your kind, my lord has sentenced thee to battle, you are to fight to the death. If by thy chance, you best these mongrols ..... which I find unlikly, you will be free to go on your way, to where ever hell, thy came from. Does thee understand my words."
"Your words are empty and meaningless, you and your 'Lord' will never destroy thy spirit. We have done no wrongs to you and your people. When thy body lies cold, my gift will be givin back to the land, and one day start anew in another. The lord ye follow is one of distrust and malice. You may release my spirit from its shell, but destroy it, this i decree, nay!"
"So say ye, replies the mammoth , which sparks a round of laughter.
Zavier gives a unpologetic glance to his follower. Horris turns his head down and closes his eyes to advert from the sight of the duel.
"One day, we will be known for the greatness of our kind, and not for the missguided deeds of one man."
A look of hatered beigns to show on his brow. A sliver of yellow shows from behind the tightly shut lids. A low deep growl begins to errupt, but is soon muffled, and calmed. It is replaced by a long sigh of shame.
"You have a gift my friend, in time you will learn not to fear it, and when that day comes, all who have wronged your people, will fear, you.
The Paladin turns sharply and strides over to the bar in the corner.
A long wooden bar old, and termite overrun, barely stands from the weight of a fat patron who is passed out in his own regergatated meal. Behind it a man who is no stranger of combat, stands with his back to Zavier, urinating in a mug. Flies circle his hindend, but are detured by the ocassional backfire.
"I demand you set that prisoner free!" Zavier orders to the barkeep."
The bartender replies. "Now why would thee, want to do that?" as another blast fills the air. A fly drops to the ground dead.
At this same moment Horris, walks head down to the arena. Bets on just how long the druid will last are low, but a side bet on which dog will inflict the killing blow is growing in price. The black furred dog, seemingly the alpha, is in the lead with a steep twenty gold over the next of fourteen.
As if feeling the presents of another, the druid scans the masses, finally gazing into his eyes. A look of sorrow is shadowed under Horris's hooded cloak.
The prisoner wispers the words,
"Do not mourne for thee, for Tetra is with me."
A dagger cuts threw the air from the golden haired paladin direction. The dogs are loose. A small brown dog jumps threw the air attacking the white wolf. She is countered by a strong wind gust in the form of a twister. It is sent flying backwards spinning head over tail smacking hard into the metal cage wall. A deafening yelp echoes threw the tavern. Bones crack and flesh rips away along with fur. The cage wall buckles from the force, then explodes. the bitch showers the crowd with her remains. Again cheers all around, the betting becomes fierce. Knowing that the druid is now an elemental as well as summoner, patrons begin to bet on which dog will have its life ripped from him.
A halfling picks up the innards and throws them at his friends face, this starts a playful game of dodge in the stands above the pit.
The spirit wolf, is fighting for it's master, while the druid defends himself against the leader.
With no weapon, a druid is still a dangerous enemy, if not for the minions at its side then for its use of either elemental magics, or becoming a spirit of nature itself. Of course few are granted this awsome power to become such a magnificent creature, and even less are able to control its raw power and instincts to defend the very ground under our feet. For this it is both a gift and a curse.
The wolf Nanook, clamps hard on the second attacking dogs throat, severing the neck in half, a gurgle mixed with bubbles of blood popping is all that is heard. The ground becomes moist with the flowing liquid, but still it creeps across creatinga pool.
Their is a rage that starts again within Horris, but this time all causion is thrown to the wind, no worries, no cares, just utter hatered, and rage. The world turns monotoned, the cheers and hollering become distant. Darkness consumes him, willinglly he, allows it to take control for the first time since that day so long ago. Every muscle burns, his skin crawls. Bones elonggate and reset. hair sprouts in a amber hue. Its a sped up puberty, but only human no longer. Teeth become fangs, a tail forms, sences heightened, reaction is quicker, strength is overwhelming, speed to rival the strongest winds.
His gear slowly fades and blends into the fur which once was his flesh. Everyone is transfixed on the battle to notice. Horris drops to his knees racked with unforgetable pain. This time, this one is different, he feels it, the hate produeses a toxin. A toxin so strong, he can taiste it, mixing churnning like bile in its purest form. This vile thing wells up in his mouth till he no longer can contain it. It seeps out the corners of his maw, sriking the ground and eating the very wood away at his paws. This, this is rabies! Allied with a primal fury, their are few who can match, let alone survive against its power.
Zavier's magic laced gauntleted fists are holding the barkeep suspended two feet in the air. A golden aura surrounds him, granting him holy strength. Our paladin is no tiny man, but neither is he a powerhouse barbarian. Still the server of ale is suddenly over a shallow body of rank yellow water, with a dizzing smell of a stain on his cloth breaches.
"Now! Do you want to apologies for hurting thy feelings? Ye men of the holy order do not take kindly to using thy lords nam........"
A howl silences all within the tavern, shocked thinking this captured druid is a changling as well. Never has anyone seen a druid with suck a verse number of skills at hand. Then they notice, he himself, as well as the spirit wolf, are looking in a direction from where the horrid cry originated.
A golden brown blur, rips threw the poorly constructed cell. A yelp, followed by a earsplitting animal cry, lets all know that the pack of wild dogs are no longer. In their place stands a nine foot golden haired wearwolf, dripping with acidlike saliva from its huge maw.
The prisoned kindred rises to his feet bleeding profusely from the belly. From the waist down he is covered in his life. No longer having the strength the spirit vanishes. As a last line of defense a swirling wall of wind incases the elder druid.
Zavier makes ready his axe and his shield is magically blessed and enhanced. He knows combat is near. With but a thought a red glow engulfs him. His cape is thrown off, slowly catches a breeze and floats away landing on the wooden floor some ten feet behind.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Part 1 Cont.

A "call to arms" is yelled by the ego driven pally, and numerous watchers are now leaping threw newly cut holes in the cage, each possesing a feeling of power about them. To their surprise, a strong wind is within the pit, ripping them from their feet, throwing them all against the walls, unable to move.
Inner peace fills the elder as a hand touches his shoulder. He tenses for a second, but is calmed with
"Relax now, ye are with friends." His wounds magically disappear, blood vanishes, and strength slowly returns, but the hurricane winds subside.
Their is a look of acknowledgement in the changelings eyes. As a reply, Zavier nods his head, and a thought later wisp appears, they are both endowed with a red glow.
Flanking the healing druid on both sides, worriors of all kind begin to attack both wearwolf and palidin. Some brandishing paired weapons, others are daggers, swords, axes, hammers, and the ocassional mace. All are novices compared to the training of a man of god, or the instinct of a cornered animal. Many fall to sickness, vomiting or illness to the stomach, others are just cut to shreads by the speed at which Zavier cans swing his weapon. To add insult most of his attackers are set ablaze. Reduced to a pile of ash on the dirt ground. As a minor threat are a few bowmen above the pit ring. All are blocked or dodged by Zavier, while few hit Horris's beastial form it does not fase him.
A thunderous clash ressoundates, as a large section of the cage falls to the pit floor.
"Ye dare take arms, with ..... that, that, thing! Ye a fellow practitioner of god. That, thing is a spawn of daemon kind. If ye ally thy'self with evil then ye be cast evil. Thadder Hammerhilt bids you battle daemon. Make ready ye weapon." The golden Pally produces a mace glowing in its own aura. In an instant Zavier knows what attack is waiting him. One of the strongest skills to any palidin.
In a blink of a eye, seven tornado blast fire away in quick sucsession. None effect Thadder. He retaliates with a mystical hammer, it strikes the druid square in the head crushing it on impact. His body slams hard against the stone behind him. Dead and broken, his body falls to the ground. Before the floor connects with the elders body, Before he can utter the words "NO!", Horris is off in a swift attack.
Another hammer forms and strikes the changling in the gut, another in the head, knocked out cold, but not dead.
"HA HA HE HE HEEE! See how fragle ye companion is, repent to me, or face thy wrath. Pledge your allegience, to thy lord, and my word ye feel nay pain in death."
"Is ye ego that enlarged, that ye can not see thy errors of thy ways?" Retorts Zavier. "Nay do thy come to battle, but nay do thy declair friend as a foe."
"Than nay brother are ye of mine, make ready for thy grave."
It begins rather slow, but soon their is a vortex of mystical hammers, swirling around Thadder. Head cocked back, a foul laughter errupts from his evil visage.
A quick chant and Zavier waits patientlly for his moment to strike.
Ego driven, thinking their is only victory in his future, does not realize the attack is upon him until it is too late.
Zavier charges, with such speed, that, Thadder has already hit the wall, before he has time to notice he was actually struck down. A bash, his nose is broken, another jaw is dislocated, a third bash and Thadder knows all is lost. His legs go numb, then buckle beneath the weight of his armor.
"Beaten, nay do I battle ye any longer. Swallow thy guile, and leave thy place." Zavier turns to help Horris, now in human form once again, ready for the attack to come yet.
With a war cry Thadder takes several running steps and launches four hammers. Zavier tucks and rolls left all hammers hit the wall to his right. He turns and throws his axe. Shatterstar loops nineteen times before digging up to the hilt into Thadders skull. He falls back with a THUD! against the wall behind him.
Barely unconsience, Horris is relieved to find the battle over, but looking over at the druid remains, it did not have any good outcome.
Zavier walks up to Thadder,puts his left foot on the golden haired pally's left shoulder. With a wet, squish noise, Shatterstar comes loose. A quick whip of the hand, blood is slopped onto the ground. they find their way out of the pit, a patron runs up and yells.
"Ye made thee, loose fifty gold. Nay will ....... A right hook shot from Horris, hits the looser in the jaw, he hits the floor hard, out cold.
"Long have thee wished to do that, thy code nah permits it ... what ye feel after?"
"Warm and fuzzy in the stomach."
"Nay, that is ye hairball."
All watchers back away in amazement. As the two make their leave from the place.
The door closes and the room returns to its boistrous self.
The streets are dark, but are countered by candles burning in corner lamps. Lurking in these remaining shadows is a lone figure watching every move of the duo.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Part 2

"Now were do ye suppose we stay, my kind is not welcomed here? Outside of the town, nay, that acursed vegetable may have kin."
"Calm ye'self, for ye surely are still injured." Calmly replies the Paladin.
Together they walk supporting each other to walk, to the corner they stumble. A sound of a disturbed puddle from behind, alarms them.
"Forgive me, for I did not mean to startle you. I could help but not to overhear your troubles. I may be of some assisstence with lodging, their will be no trouble for either of you. Only thing I ask for in return, is your help in a small matter."
Zavier and Horris look at one another and ponder for a second. With no objections, the changling nods his head in agreement.
"Excellent, my name is Seriph, my dwellings are this way. We shall get aquanited there, but for now we must hurry, outsiders are not all to welcomed in this lands."
Seriph, walks with a quickness to his step, as the traveling pair follow. Seriph is a pale man, corpselike if you will. His garb is pure black, with ashin skulls adorned. Long flowing white hair whips in the wind. Their is a musky oder the trails off of him, it burns the nostrils of Horris the druid.
A brisk walk of four blocks brings our trio to what appears to be a run down abandoned home.
"Quickly this way." Seriph wispers. A nervous glance over his shoulders, makes Zavier start to wonder if this is the right thing.
Opening the door Horris is bombarded with candle light, it takes a second or two to adjust to the differece from the darkness outside. Finally when his sight recovers, he notices a collossus of iron standing on the opposite end of the room. As a reaction both travelers grab for their wepontry.
"A trap ye set." Zavier crys.
The metal giant who stands a easy ten foot tall steps to advance the intruders. Seriph, rushing over, seperates the line of combat. He puts his hand out on both sides.
"This be no trap, friends." He motions for the monster to stand down.
"It is only for protection, a conjuring of mine known as a golem, it is a guard of sorts when I not within my home. Please, put away the weapons, you are safe, I assure you no harm will come to either while here. Like a fog in sunlight the golem fades away.
"A golem, ye be a necromancer. A follower of the horde!" Protests Zavier.
"Ha ha ha, a necromancer yes, but no follower of the horde am I. Once I was a street child, till I was shown the ways of the black magics. I am on a quest to save the one known as Deckard Cain, an elder who is wise beyond his years. This is where your help is needed. I know of the wereabouts of Cain, but their is a mass of daemon too many for me to handle by myself. If you are ab ........"
A look in both the druid and paladins eyes tells Seriph, that he has picked the right choice in travelers to help in his quest.
Already knowing the answer, he asks anyway. "Do you know of this Decard Cain?"
"By thy gods, I am Zavier thy friend is Horris, both seek the wisdom of Cain too."
"Excellent, rest we shall leave at dawn. Surely you must be tired and of need of rest and nurishment. I shall prepare a meal, then we can talk."
"There is a land known as Tristrum, once a wonderful town to anyones standards. You could buy weres and stay before traveling on, it lay over the mountains to the east. I had ventured their to find Cain, but on inspection, I noticed, he was caged at the heart of the town, guarded by a legion of evil. Most disturbing is, I fear the towns people have all but died to be reborn as minions themselves. I fear Cain will not last any longer. His will is strong, but is it strong enough? We need to reach him before it is too late. Can I count on your aid?"
"Yes, ye will accompany you in this endevor. He may be the only one to help in the coming evil to thy land. A great daemon known as Diablo is on thy rise. It roams the land searching for clues to where thy may find its kin Mephisto and Baal." Retorts the Paladin.
"Iye, my lands to the far south, have seen the walking of this monster in times long past. The writings say that if, he returns all is lost. I seek the monks aid for similar matters. Baal, you have mentioned, he seeks. Our lands guard his emprisoned body. Unfortunitlly time has forgotten where the prison stands. Without knowledge of such a place, we surely can do nothing to guard Diablo from attaining his goal. They talk late into the night. Slowly one by one they drift to sleep.
A noise faint at first, increases slowly. It is the sound of a people outside. This noise awakes the three. Peeking out of the doorway Seriph turns his head back to his guests, with a worried but somewhat grin on his face.
"I think we have overstayed our welcome friends!"
Quickly he shuts the door and dons his armor and weapontry. Zavier and Horris are way ahead of him, already fully armored, and ready for battle.
A quick chant and a drop of his blood the necromancer creates another golem, but this time it is forming with bone at its core, slowly muscles wrap and tendens bind. It glistens with blood coating its body. Hands elongate creating claws with razorsharp nails. A blood golem is born. Eyes red and glassy, look at Zavier, with the understanding he and Horris are allies. But this still does not settle well for the Paladin.
Another chant from Seriph and a vortex of bones surround him creating a magical armor. A wink to Horris is followed by silence.
"Let them see what they fear we are, let them think that we are the ones who will pull hell up from its depths, to fight for us. Let their minds wonder with the thoughts of evil, for this is all that they see us for, but we know different." Proclaims Seriph.
"Touching, very much so, it pulls at thy heart of thee." Jokes Horris. He pretends to wipe a phantom tear from his eye.
Eyes closed, a blue and white glow eminates from Zavier. A feeling of comfort and protection embraces him, then expands to the others as well as the golem.
"A protection for thy uncertain confrontation."
Explains the Paladin. Seeing a quimsical look on the necromancers face as he inspects the aura.
A torch bursts threw a dirt covered window. It flies threw the air landing on cloth at the far end floor. It ignites quickly and spreads up the wall eatting all in its path. Within seconds it consumes the far wall. More tourches soon follow.
"Let our presents strike fear." Shouts the man of god.
The golem rushes forward threw the forward wall, creating a shutter for the foundation, as one section explodes outward. This causes some of the mob to jump in fear, and scurry away screaming for their life.
"Changling, for the death of thy beloved Hammerhilt, Ye are ordered to death. Resist and ye die most painfully. Necromancer, for thy harboring of this abomination, and for the use of thy black majics, ye are ordered to death thy same. Paladin, leave with god, for ye done no wrong, stay and ye fate is thy same." Yells a squire, shakely reading from a scroll.
Seriph chuckles as he chants. A curse hits the crowd, the weaker of the remaining mob see their fears come to life before their eyes. Some picture huge daemons sprouting up from the earth, others see the sky turning red as blood and their own skin peeling away from acid rain. They run screaming in terror. One helpless member screams "Get them off!" as he rips his clothing looking behind him. Dosent even realize he is about to hit a building wall. He hits the wall so hard that his neck compacts, and pops. He falls limp to the ground. When he awakins he will no longer be able to walk for he has broken his back.
All that remain are twenty three of Lord Byrans men. Twenty knights with two paladins, and a mage. More than enough for problem to the allied travelers. They encircle the quartet the paladins start swirling magical hammers, but are cautious, hknowing that the greatest of them was felled by Zavier. The knights sword at the ready are in stance ready to fight, while the mage produces a spell for them to turn their swords into fire.
In the center of this ring Zavier, Horris, Seriph, and the blood golem, stand back to back waiting for the first move.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Part 2 cont.

The air is silent, not a one makes a noise. The knights dart their eyes back and forth at one another. Seems that no one has the gall to make the first move. With the swords enchanted with fire, and an aura from the paladins to increase their aim, one gets the the stomach.
He runs out at Zavier, with sword held high by both hands. A quick parry and a side step, leads to a deep cut threw the belly. The spine is severed, but before the upper torso half can begin to fall, another slice vertically down the center, reduces the knight to quarters of a man.
This action sets things into motion. Four knights charge at the summoner, he curses them, and disappears from the middle of the crowd, to the outside of the ring. Launches a folly of bone spirits.
One of the cursed knights hits another, too slow to stop his attack, and decapitates him. A look of fear and pain is still on his face as the head lobs off into the air. Another stops just in time to duck a attack from the last of the four knights. Samuel the knight watches in slow motion as his fellow fighter ducks the attack meant for Seriph, following his friend decend, he doesn't realize what horror awaits infront of him.
Samuels bones are shattered one by one, by a tornado of magical hammers. His body goes limp after the first hammer, the next is overkill. He is slowly ripped apart bit by bit. Body parts are scattered threwout the knights.
The remaining knight out of the four to attack the necromancer, witnesses a friend on his left combust into blue flame as a spirit hits him. Another befalls the same fate on his right. This knight smartens up, turns to run. A blue flaming skull greets him, as he meets a similar fate.
In unisin, the remaining move in for the kill. The mage casts a protection spell on himself, creating a swirling shield of ice. He chants to begin a magic attack, but a arrow silences him, by piercing threw his neck. Blood streams out. He grasps at his throat, and falls to the ground gurgling.
Blackness settles on the area, one by one, a death cry is heard in random directions. Some times the sound of metal upon metal, but mostly the buzz of electricity finds its way to the heros ears. The darkness disapates, and a siloette figure stands with tiny electrified piramids amongst the dead knights. All that remains is the paladins. Both are blind and badly injured. The older of the two, stops his hammers, holds his one fist to the heavens. A bolt of lightning splits the sky and rushes down to the shadow covered killer. Horris leaps to tackle this phantom, not sure if its tangable or not. Contact, both hit the ground hard, a second later a earth shaking crack rumbles threw the ground as a bright flash startles all.
"A kiss is the norm when corting a lady." The siloette softly says.
"My forgiveness ...... ma'am." Horris blushes.
He stands holding out a hand, for the lady. She replies in kind by excepting the polite offer. Colour, shows slightly and the shadow fades. Asian eyes sparkle like diamonds. Horris can not stop staring, he is transfixed by the beauty and innocence on her face. She smiles, and does a little dancing clockwise twirl.
"Like what you see, handsome."
Horris unable to make one consistent word, is saved by Seriph.
"Come now, lovers, time is of the utt most importance, wemust make our leave, with much haste."
The summoner graps Horris by the elbow and drags him away. The shapeshifter protests all the way.
"Stay thy hand, summoner."
He looks back to the assassin.
"What is thy name my lady?" Horris asks.
"I am Mai the 'Royal Assassin' at your service." She says loudly and proudly.
"I am Seriph, the palidin is Zavier, and the drooling dog is Horris. May we go now that we have been properly introduced, before more come."
The sun slowly rises, the travelers disappear into the desert headed east over the mountains.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Part 3

The sun begins to fade away and the curtain of night reveals itself. Up on a mountain ridge our heros watch over the town of Tristrum. Actually most watch Tristrum, one changeling in perticular is watching a certain female assassin. Without a glance in his direction, Mai can tell Horris staring at her. She nods her head in disagreement.
"Would it help your imagination, if I was to be naked?" She barks annoyed.
"Sorry my lady. Your beauty is encaptivating."
She smiles inwardly, for the advances are greatly excepted. But she knows the mission is more important then her desires.
Their long travel up the mountain side and down the other half gave time for all to talk. It was at this time where Zavier and Horris found out that Mai has followed them by orders of their king, to help in the cause. Unbeknown to them if all effots fail she is to abandon the group and report back. All are expendable.
Silence settles over the band again as attention is returned to Tristrum. It is not a big town quite small actually. A row of three buildings burn. The inhabitants long dead, rise up as newly born skeletons and zombies. In the twilight and firelight, they can make out thirty or so daemons. Most of which are arguing and fighting over the remains of a child with a wooden leg. They ravege his body feeding as if it was their first meal.
In the center of Trisrum is a fountain of distilled red water, blood of the town becomes a drinking area for the many inhuman visitors. Next to which lay a tree for many generations now blackened and dead. A cage hangs here holding a elderly figure. One of the smaller daemon kin jabs at him with a dagger over and over. A scream echos threwout the town. It is followed by wicked laughter that chills you to the core.
This scream alerts Zavier, he points to the direction of the origin.
"Their, we must hurry to his aid, for ye will perish without."
A group off on the right of the town catches Horris's attention. he squints his eyes to make out the numbers.
"Look yonder! Ye see?"
A small group of five barbarian mercinaries, and a sorceress, seperate into two groups. Three of the mercinaries go right while the witch takes the remainder and cautiously creep to the left. Some noise is made by the barbarian group to get the attention of the daemon horde,and to bide time for the others to get to the monk. Unfortunitlly a huge figure of a man, or at least once was, knows of the ploy and moves to the town square as a guard.
From what seems to be everywhere, daemons poor out and converge together to find out what the noise is, others wait in town quietly. The numbers are now in the hundreds.
A gasp from the assassin confirms the fears of all.
"We must go now!" Horris cries.
"We wont get their in time, all is lost." Zaver explains.
"Speak for thy'self!"
Mai teleports off of the ridge and then appears of the side of the barbarian group. Zavier and the Druid take off running, barely touching the ground. In midstride, consumed with anger, Horris converts to his beastial form. Soon to be followed by a spirit of red light, and a pack of three wolves appears after.
Seriph stops, looks at his companions running, is in a state of awe from the power within the druid. He reagins his composure, and looks in the horizon to find Mai. She is setting numerous traps to guard the barbarians. Their is spirling daggers around her as she warns the group of the coming battle.
The necro quickly reappears to the side of the sorceress. She too is warned of the impending danger. He summons a golem from the dirt below. It forms into a clay mass of a body. Bone armor is then but up as a defence, as well as a wall of the same.
Seperated onto two fronts Zavier, and Horris make a choice to spit up and help one group. The Wearwolf heads for the necromancer and witch, the Paladin goes to aid the Barbairians.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Part 3 Cont.

Slowly it walks, the sword is heavy, so it drags behind. Turning the last corner arond the burning tavern, the skeleton views the barbarians. They are a huge mass of muscle, and skilled in a various weapons. The high quality armor is dirty from the long journey here, but their will is strong.
This undead takes another lumbered step, to find a green glow about it. Another helpful aura granted to the paladin, to aid in the fight against evil. Without thought, their is only impulse, to destroy the worriors. The impulse is gone, thanks to the axe that has split the skull in to.
Bones crumble to the ground, that skeleton is no more. Another two take its place. Darris, the least battled barb jumps into the air. His giant axes slice the second skeleton into triads. This action sets the rest in motion.
Nordax, furiously runs into the other remaining skeletons. Their is no hesitation, he lives for the fight. To die in battle is glorious, and an honor. While this is shared by all barbarian, many see this as a goal for Nordax. When in battle he gets crazed, swinging at anything and everything. In turn this only adds fuel to his inner fire. He is surrounded zombie, and skeleton alike. After the two skeletons have fell, a cry of war echos from him to all his companions. No fear resides within this body, he believes Death has no wishes for his soul. He is wrong. Wounds bleed from deep cuts from blades and bare hands. The toll is adding up for him, as he stubles. One blow from a zombie crushes the skull. Greymatter, rushes out from his ears. He is dead.
Mordok, the eldest of the barbarians engaged in battle, severs a zombie,at the waiste. As the body tilts then falls to the gound, he watches his fellow worrior fall, from behind it's body.
All appears slow for Zavier when in battle, when in actuality, it is he, that is faster then everything else. Easliy three monsters are dropped by his axe, soon to be four. From the corner of his eye, he sees Mordok, rotating and clearing a path to his man at arms.
Wirlwinding around the body, appendages begin to create a wall like barrier, but still the undead press on. These daemons pounce on him till their is no sign of his body, just a mound of unding flesh. A rumble starts to shake the ground. The mound splits with a shout from the verterian, all of the opposing forces scurry away, leaving time for the paladin and the other barbarians to regroup.
"Assassin where is ye!" Zavier shouts.
"Right next to you." She retorts.
Startled he flinches and raises his weapon slightly, only to regain his sences.
Mai begins to lay a perimiter of Death Sentry traps, and calls on her skills to create a living shadow that seemingly grows out from her own shadow.
Within feet from one another, Mordok, gives out another tremendous battle cry, which is followed by a normal order of combat to all combatants. Inpowering all to their peak of potental.
The ward wears off, and the horde comes back with a vengence. Lightning charges the bodies till they drop dead, then exploding them. A series of chained explosion takes out dozens of them. Still they press on.
They are engulfed by the dead, body parts are littered threwout from the leagon of daemons finally at peace. The numbers are still many that their in no noticable difference when hundreds die.
"Is their no end to this madness." yells Mai to Zavier.
One zombie lunges for her head, she blocks with crossed claws, twists her elbows in and decapitates it. The rest advance on her. Quickly a sucsession of kicks has them at bay just long enough for her to set another series of traps. Again the dead explode in droves.
Darris is overcome by the horde, his weapon long gone, he begins to punch his way out of the ocean of the evil. He is grabbed by a skeleton who remarkably has strength to rival his own from behind. Another grabs his right arm, and a third his left leg. Suspended in midair by the undead, he is helpless. The monster that has him from behind holds firm, as the skeleton on his leg pulls. Muscles are tense fighting against the strain, but still tendens pop, arteries burst, skin rips, and finally the leg and body are no longer one. Skeletons bathed in red, continue to dismember the barbarian, as zombie feed on his carcuss.
To add to thier problems a Shaman and its Kin finally make there way threw the dead. The miniture Kin do little damage alone, but when they attack in groups, the threat becomes worse.
Mordok cuts down one of these Kin, to only fid it reanimated seconds later by a Shaman. A second time, but still it gets right back up.
"You their, ye must lay your traps down by the Shamen" Mordok barks.
"I have a name you know!" Yells the Assassin with utter discuss.
"I bet ye do, but now is not the time. Do as I say woman, or we all die!"
Again traps are set, and three of the four Shamen die, only to be reanimated, by the remaining Shaman.
"That one is immune to my powers."
"Never send a woman to do thy work of men."The Barbarian jokes to Zavier.
In return, Mai sends a look to him, with daggers in her eyes. If any fear lay within Mordoks iron skin, he surely would be struck by terror.
He takes off with his wirlwind attack, heading toward the powerful Shawman. His unique warpike Ripguts, cuts threw the horde with ease. This magical weapon was a gift, granted to him by his father. Ripguts soaks up all lifeforce and energy from the attacker, and transfers it to Mordok, granting him a never ending supply of added life when in battle.
Finally with much effort, the mercinary reaches his target, but finds all Shamen ready for him. A continuous barrage of fireballs strike him from all sides. His own flesh begins to burn and blister, the pain only angers him.
This Shaman boss, is fast, it dodges an attack, but not fast enough, as Ripguts holds true to its name. The weapon pierces the stomach, but this monster just laughs. Mordok overwhelmed with rage, swings his warpike into the air, launching the Shawman over his head and past the other Shamen.
With his trusty pike in both hands once again, another wirlwind attack begins mowing down the other Shamen, and stops just short of the boss. With his right hand he swings the other end out, and turns slicing threw the midsection. At the final moment he after doing so, he jumps high into the air, and slashes down vertically with all his might. The body explodes on impact, knocking the mercenary backwards, almost loosing his footing.
A fantastic move, deserves to be commended, but their is no time, for the swarm still grows. As far as the eye can see, their is only death, and undead. No end in sight all fight on for survival.
Off in the distance both Zavier and Mai see a white and yellow glow moving towards them, the sound of death follows close behind.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Part 3 Cont.

The goliath grabs the neck of the barbarian named Noxig, their is a good two feet between the ground and his toes. The world around him begins to darken and fade away. Grizwald tightens his grip, the sound of a muffled crack is heard as the barbarian goes limp.
Tossed to the side, with a thought, both barbiarians lay dead, all that remains is the Sorceress, Druid, and Necromancer. The split up leaving the witch in the distance, guarded by a golem of fire. A added wall of bones is again resurrected around the undead Grizwald. This wall slows him down, but does not stop him.
Knowing what damage this monster can do, Seriph the Necromancer castes a curse known as Iron Madien. This curse causes Grizwald to take a bit of damage, as he tries to fight his way out of the bone wall. Unfortunitly the curse, along with the pulsing fire attack fom the golem, and magical blizzard from the sorceress do very little damage, if any at all.
The changling, Horris, strikes the moment the monster is free from the wall. Several rabid bites to his neck and shoulders, produce a toxic effect to it, but this poison is felt more by the skeletons, zombies and other daemons now making its way threw the broken wall. The second their is any contact the virus spreads, almost instantly they die, leaving the once loved Grizwald alone. The poison takes it effect and is slowly killing him off. Horris, jumps off , but not before ripping his claws into his back creating deep bleeding wounds.
A single swing, and the golem bursts into a blast of fire, engulfing Grizwald in fire. His face is reduced to a bubbling charred mess. Skin drips away, and melts into the ground. What remaining hair that is left, creates a noxious foul smell.
Fear overcomes the witch as it moves into striking range, he swings his fist aglow in fire, and as a reaction she teleports behind him. Her mind back into the task at hand a shield of tiny ice crystals goes up for protection. Just at the same moment three magical spears of bone hit Grizwald in a rapid sucsession.
His attention now on the summoner, Kira, the sorceress attacks with a static charge. This hits hard and hurts him. The monster goes to grab her when a arrow knocks him back. In the distance charges forward a Amazon with a celestal known as a Valkery. Behind them bringging up the rear is Zavier, Mai, and Mordok. Ralling to their aid, all moral is hightened. The battling becomes intense, every stroke of the weapons hits home, every spell has dangerous effects, but still it stands strong fighting.
Mordok starts off with another wirlwind attack, this time, the attack is useless. With a backstep, Grizwald escapes the might of the barbarian attack, he replies with a hammering blow into the barbairians head. Dizzy and dazed he drops to one knee.
This makes the perfect opening for Mai, with a burst of speed, she runs then jumps off of Mordoks shoulder to hit square into the undeads chest. It hurts her more then it hurts him. She drops like a stone.
Zaviers turn. He raises his fist to the heavens and a bolt of lightning strikes the monster. It stumbles, then looks up to see the paladin charging in for an attack. A ear deafening smack Grizwald takes another two steps back, a bone spirit backs up the attack, then a series of five claw attacks, another blizzard forms, several arrows, lightning sentries places around him, a fist of molten fire from the reanimated golem. All of this back to back, and it still stands! Barely. It is blinded, cursed, bleeding profusely, and on fire. All combatants are spent, what else is left.
Grizwald once again stands errect, gains its footing, when suddenly from all sides, each one musters a last attack, this time in mass.
Everyone of them strike and Grizwald stumbles back several steps then drops to be dead once more. Everyone collapes to their knees and hands, all breath heavy. Greatful smiles, and pats the back or exchanged. This festive celebration is broken up, by, the sound of a haggard old mans voice, and the rattling of metal chains.
Moments later, Mai is seen searching the daemon bodies for items and gold. At the same time the others try to release Deckard Cain from his prison in the cage.
"Thank you friends, but we must hurry, Diablo walks the world again. Quickly, into the portal."
One by one all adventurers follow the monk leaving Zavier to go threw last. On the other side, each is greeted by a encampment member and given some water, and food. All are exausted.
Their is a lodge that most breakaway for to get some rest, others go to repair their weapons, and replentish their stock of items. Deckard Cain explains to them that they must meet back at sunset to further talk about what troubles lay ahead and what course of action is needed.
Zavier takes some time to converse with the Barbarian Mordok, Amazon Hara, and the Sorceress Kira. he soon finds that this problem with Diablo is everywhere, even here in this Rouge Encampment their is evil afoot. This evil here is known as Andariel, once an enemy of the prime evils, now seems to be fighting side by side.
Mai stolls up to a merchant named Gheed, who is a swindler, with greasy hair and bad teeth.
"Hello their, are you in need of some items? Some gold, a small gem, or a spare item is all i ask for in trade. I have only the finest weapons in the lands, and each come with a three day lifetime warrante." The merchant says with a oily smile.
She opens up her pack to show the gear she had looted. Gheeds eyes almost rip from their sockets at the glorious items within. His fingers tap on the palms of his hands waiting just to touch all the shiney metal. He bigins to salavate, a drop of drool peaks out from the corner of his mouth.
A hand firmly grabs ahold of Mai's shoulder, and she is quickly turned on her heels, now facing Horris.
Gheeds visage falls from the bag of items to Mai's backside.
"Mai! What may I ask ye doin? These are all stolen off them Daemons. I am sure this fine merchant does not want your stolen wears." Horris argues.
"By all means they are dead daemons, it is not items off of the fallen fighters that aid us. No one will care..... Mai turns around to face Gheed again.
Quickly his hand is jerked back to his side. He tries to cover up this movement, with an act of wealthy buisinessman.
"My lady, how dare you try and pawn your misdeeds and ill gotten goods on me. You should be ashamed. I bid you farewell." Gheed says with a fake look of anger, underlining with disapointment.
"But, wait, I, I ......." Mai is lead away by Horris.
Hara looks over her shoulder at the assassin and druid arguing like long time lovers, as she stands eagerly waiting for the blacksmith Charsi to finish socketing her weapon with magical runes which were found threwout her voyage to rescue Cain. She is a native of this area, as much as she can remember at least.
Hara was found outside town as an infant, she was taken in and trained by the great Kashya in the ways of a rouge. after claiming her independance from the guild, she decieded to stay here and help out what grew to be her family. Her daydreaming of the past is interruppted by Charsi announcing that the weapon was done.
"This a mighty bow you have now, it is named Breath of the Dying, very dangerous to anyone you strike."
"Thank you, as always Charsi." hara replies
"This is the least I could do for you since you brought me my enchanted smithing hammer back from the monestary. I thank you."
The sun slowly fades away into the horizon, and all begin to meet as requested, to speak of the evils in all lands.
Deckard Cain begins by saying.
"Thank you, friends, their was little I could do to fend off the attacking horde on Tristrum, I would have died, or worse, if not for your help. On to matters that affect us all, Diablo. He roams the lands looking for his brothers Mephisto, and Baal. The Three Prime Evils must not be free, doing so means certain death to us all. We must venture east to the town of Lut Gholein, but to do so we must first destroy the evil blocking our path their. This evil is Andariel. She once stood as a opposing force against the Prime Evils, but now she too has been tainted by the forces of hell, as well as much of this land. Will you all rally in this cause my friends."
With any hesitation, or a second thought all join in to erraticate the Prime Evils, and everything that has been defiled by them.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Part 4

Many days have past, as well as many battles. Along the way to get to Andariel, some have learned new things to aid them in their fight. Namely Seriph the Necromancer, who has learned how to revive the dead daemons, and use them to fight their own. Then their is Horris, who awoke from a dream about a golden haired wolf, only to find one calmly sleeping next to him. This loyal companion is named, Syruss, the same name as his father.
Horris watched his father Syruss die protecting him. It was shortly after the carnage of druid uprising. Any druid found was bruitaly murdered to prevent the spread. The changling thinks back to that day, when it all happened.
It was shortly before dawn, and a young Horris defied his fathers wishes, and ventured out of the hiding in the cave, to pick berries in the woods. After walking for a bit, he lost his way. Wandering aimlessly, he happened to walk right into a band of villagers on the hunt. Farmers all, but armed, and just waiting to act out revenge.
Seeing this boy druid, they figure easy kill. They surround him, and smack him across the face with a shovel. Stunned, and knocked to the ground, but not knocked out. Scared, he scrurries backward against a tree.
Another farmer aims his pitchfork and is ready to strike, but the scared boy screams for his life. This bloody cry, trails off and a slight roar errupts. All back up thinking they might have underestimated this small one. They soon realize, the roar is not from him, but, from something off in the distance. The roar increases, and so does a rumble in the ground. The forest splits as this thing comes ever closer. Trees are leveled, the tall grass parts.
The farmers petrafied, begin to panic. One turns to run, and face first meets a tree. A log of wood is thrown from out of the treeline, and connects with another farmers midsection. It blows out his back, this farmer is dead.
A female farmer, runs off and disappears leaving the rest to fend for themselves. One farmer is a fairly build man. he stands motionless as his pants soil with urination. The sight of a giant brown bear is overwelming. Its roar rattles you to your very being.
Syruss in his bear form is, in essence a monster. He stands twelve feet tall, and able to uproot trees with a single backhand.
A giant claw shoots down from the sky, raking across the face of one of the villagers, with nails of fire. Blood squirts everwhere, even staining the fur on Syruss.
Another is simply thrown into a tree. Her body compresses, and compacks, every bone is shattered by the force.
Several arrows whip threw the air, and penatrate Syruss's body. A poison on the tips start to take effect. The woman farmer wh ran off, made it back to town and brought aid back. Three rangers, deadly in their skill, shoot in haste.
The giant bear drops to a knee, and slowly begins to change back to the father that Horris loves and admires.
"Run my son, as fa... as far as you can. Go pup. Don't look baaa.... " He falls to the ground. Life fades away.
Horris looks at his fathers empty eyes motionless. A arrow hits the tree that is behind him. Startled, he turns and runs. Crying and in pain, he runs for his life, as fast and as far as he can.
Fighting back the tightness in his muscles, and the dizzyness in his head, Horris collapses to the ground exausted. It is now nightfall. He is alone for the first time, and cold. Unsure of where he is and where to go. He lies on his side, stattles his knees, and crys himself to sleep.
"Get that horrid thing away from me, Now!" Mai screams.
This pulls Horris back to reality. He watches as a rotting corpse of a Brute walk side by side next to Mai.
A nudge at his leg lets Horris know that Syruss is still there. A scratch behind its ear is given in reply.
"I mean it, summoner! Get rid of that foul thing, or you will be sorry."
"Do you realize the power this beast has. It will surely help us. Besides they are only able to unlive for a short time. It will soon die again." Seriph pleeds.
"Seriph, please, rid us of thy creation, so we may continue with thy path."
All stand waiting for the revived to return to rest in death.
"Alright then, I will recall it."
The attention is all on the revived Brute, all except for Mai that is. The Brute desolves into the earth, all are in amazement.
Mai looks at Seriph and her eyes narrow. She reaches for her dagger at her side, and quickly throws it in the summoners direction.
She starts off running at Seriph, as the dagger wizzes past his head.
All attention is now on her as weapons are drawn
"MOVE!"
She pushes him aside, and a female scream is heard behind Seriph. A Dark Hunters soul is ripped from its body as it falls back and dies.
"See I knew we should have kept him he would have helpped out alot."
A dozen Dark Hunters are running up to fight,followed by another dozen Dark Archers.
Preperations for battle are made, and everyone knows what to do. Seriph curses the Hunters, then summons his golem to lead the charge.
Horris, and Hara break off to battle the Dark Archers with the Sorceress's help. Mai fades, calls upon her shadow, then sets her traps. This alone, is a force to behold. Add to this a defence aura from Zavier, the strength of Mordok, and his Battle Orders. Their is no way they can loose if they fight together.
Before the battle actually starts it is over. Victory is theirs.
"Seriph! I swear to GOD! Call em off" Mai screams.
She drops to the ground shaking and rocking back and forth.
"Call them off! Are you mad?" Seriph replies
"Call them off now!" Horris yells, as he runs into a circle of skeletons.
As the Hunters fell the summoner casted their souls to animate their skeletons, and the archers were also turned into skeletons of magic.
"It's quite amazing actually. I figured if I could revive a body, I could call upon their soul to animate the remains. They are easier to control and more loyal. Need I say last longer as we...."
"Seriph call them off now or I will destroy them all." Zavier yells.
"All right already, no need to yell, whats the big d....."
As the skeletons are destroyed, you can see more and more of Horris holding Mai trying to calm her down.
Everything becomes clear to the summoner. He looks at the ground in front of his feet. Feeling ashamed he fumbles with his words.
"I'm sorry I, um, I didn't know. I had, no idea. She never, she didn't say a word about it. I'm sorry."
Mordok slaps him on the back of the head.
"Didn't know. How did you not! It was obvious to all but you. Her pride kept her from voicing her fears. You are just so cought up in yourself that you failed to notice."
Seriph walks off alone apologetic.
"Don't ye think ye were too hard on him, for he did not know." Zavier barks.
"No! No I do not, he needs to be reponsible for his actions just like the rest of us."
Soon they regain their moral and continue onward to find Andariel, but it is a quiet walk.

 

[Brandon]

You should Consider on writing a book, this is awsome and i need more story!

 

[I_Robbie]

Good god that is long. Im still reading it.

 

[Pale_Horse]

LOL It's not done just finalizing stuff for the act 2 areas. I will be writing more. I actually plan on writing this to Baal

 

[I_Robbie]

I second the book idea. If you wrote one from D1 to baal I would pay money to have the book.

 

[Hot Action Akule]

i wouldnt.

5/10 substandard.

 

[Gedrin]

It shows promise, but you need to edit it for gramatical errors.

I know it's more fun to create than edit, but it has to be done.

 

[S.S. Trunks]

If u can do that while ur borde id like to see what u can do when u actualy think about something.

 

[Pale_Horse]

thank you all for your words of encouragement thank you. As for the grammer, that is being rectified, I am presently writing everything out in Word program, and then will be transfering it to here. So the errors are few, if not all gone. My apologies.

As for what I can do when I'm not bored, I have over 1300 different writings on many different subects. Maybe one day I will get the nerve to put them down here, for all to see.

 

[Pale_Horse]

Bad news for anyone who wanted to read more of the story. My puter had to be reformated, and I lost all my work. So I'm gonna have to wing the rest of it, as best I can on memory. Sorry, but I will still add more.

 

[shimshimheyxD]

very cinematic id give thast 8/10

 

[Pale_Horse]

Sorry comp troubles, but I'm back now. Hopefully for good. And yes still writing.