Nicholas The Slide
BattleForums Senior Member
Heres a short story i wrote for creative writing class.
Harry Readinger © 2006
Short Story
2/23/2006
“Silly boy†said a voice that sounded like a box of nails being dragged over a chalkboard, “I can't die yet. I am not finished with this place!†I opened my eyes, only to see a sight so horrifying that I wished the tree had killed me. It's him, I thought to myself, this is bad, so very bad. I looked around for my friends, only to find that I was by myself, at the bottom of the tree I had slammed into. My arms and legs were bound to a stout log, making any sort of coordinated movement impossible.
“Damn you! DAMN YOU!†I screamed
“Hush now little child, daddy will put you and the children to sleep, but not before the story is finished!â€
He cackled maniacally and dissapeared in a swirl of green smoke. Thats when I felt the pop. It was my left shoulder, coming out of its socket. At that moment I knew who that man was, for only he would do something so cruel, as to make the log I was bound to magically start to shrink. Only after my knees and hips had also dislocated would the log slim down enough for me to escape. This was going to be a rough night. My point was accentuated by the screaming of my friends. Oh, he was going to pay, and that damned dog of his wont stop me this time.
Another shortening, and finally both my knees went. My body collapsed as soon as the friction holding the roped in place wore off enough for me to move, I could only hope that one of my newfound friends was very flexible, or we were all in trouble, lying helpless on the ground, best-case we would have all of our supplies stolen, worst case, the thieves would decide we are not worthy of our lives. Thats when I heard the sound of footsteps from the forest to my left, and feeling I had nothing to lose, yelled for help.
“HELP, I NEED HELP! PLEASE HELP ME!â€
“Ho there! What have we here? Tell me boy, what happened to you?â€
“I-I need help, please get me to a physician, and my friends, them too...â€
I woke up to find myself lying on a bed, in a warm room filled with the dancing shadows of firelight. I look to either side and smiled. There they were! My friends. To my left, Brian cracked an eyelid open and smiled when he saw me.
"Brian…what…why did…" His eyes closed and he fell back asleep.
"I think you owe me an explanation…Brian." Said my mysterious rescuer
"It seems I do, and I thank you for your help, without you…" I shuddered and entertained thoughts of what a city man would do if he found me lying there helpless. "It happened four thousand years ago, in the country of Obad'hi, deep in the southern regions of the world." The man's quizzical look showed me that even though he thought himself educated about the world, he had never heard of this country in the south. "The civilization there was destroyed over two thousand years ago now, hence the desert…"
"Hold on there lad, tat desert has been around forever, no civilization could have ever lived there. I know, I have been there on an expedition. Nothing man made was found."
"Please, let me continue, you asked for an explanation, and if you let me, I will give you one. Whether you believe it or not is not my problem."
"Please continue"
"And so I shall. As I said, it was four thousand years ago in Obad'hi. There was a man, named Forard, who would do anything you wanted done, for a price. He was a doubly rare breed. For one, he was a being with innate magical ability, of which one, maybe two people per generation can claim to be. And he was a work-alone mercenary. Oh, and my name isn't Brian, its Shyntzyne, a name befitting my old trade, for it means Invisible Hunter. I was, and to this day continue to be, an assassin. Now, it was a Thursday and I was sent on a mission, targeting a local politician…"
The street was very busy, even I had a hard time finding my quarry, but his characteristic red overcoat was too obvious to lose, for very long. He was making haste towards some unknown destination, I didn’t really care where, not that it even mattered. I had access to all of the safe houses and guild buildings in the city, whether the proprietors knew it or not. This, I look down at my contract, Degelder is an aristocrat of some sort, with his fancy sword at his side, trying to look as though he can actually defend himself. He's probably never even lifted the thing, I thought. This was going to be fun. Oh so very fun.
The little bug turned down a narrow little alleyway. So, he is going to do business with the Helmites, interesting. He must have done his homework. The Helmites were actually priests who kept their word, for a price. And judging by the quickness of his step, he had a lot of word owed to him. Probably just some crippling blackmail on his rival. Politics are so trivial, no honor involved, no sport. That’s why I have always tended to be more sharply associated with my clients, well, those who don’t pay me anyways. I pondered using my crossbow to rip out his windpipe and let him choke on the poison that covered the shaft, but I decided that I felt like getting my hands dirty, really dirty.
The Degelder creature stopped in front of a blank stone wall, covered in moss and mildew. He still had not seen me approaching, not even when I shoved the blade of my dagger up the base of his skull and crushed his windpipe with my right hand. I never let my quarry see me, that takes all the fun out of the hunt. My personal thoughts were interrupted by his sudden increase in weight. He truly was a pitiful specimen, couldn’t even stay alive for a minute. That was all the business I had for the day so I took my time rummaging through his pockets, the obvious and “hidden†ones. I always found it comical when people like this had these hidden pockets. Why would those pockets keep their possessions safe? Most thieves will just kill the person and then rummage through his clothes anyways, even pickpockets have started taking up the trend. All in all the man was carrying very little that I valued to keep, with one exception. He had a fascinating set of throwing daggers. Very good quality steel, with opals on each hilt, the kind that “professional†duelists wear for decoration on a sash over their chest to show the crowd that they are “dangerousâ€.. I decided that I may adopt the look, hell, I was a man and I was a professional killer. I took them, and the bug’s head.
THUD. I slammed the sever head onto the desk of Henrique, Duke of Quinthel, the poor section of Obad’hi, not to say that he never got a full plate food six times a day.
“Who the hell are you? And what is this..†he blanched at the sight of Degelder’s head, and regarding it with a waving finger, ‘doing on my desk?â€
I smiled. “Did you not order the Degelder Sir? I will take it back to the guard if the order is incorrect in any way.â€
“The contract said to leave the head with the Leader of the guild you work for, and wait…†he looked puzzled all of a sudden, then frightened “the contract liated the payer as “Anonymousâ€, how did you…â€
“You don’t give me enough credit…sir. Unlike other murderers, I stay informed with regards to politics, below and above the table. Now, if you do not want this little treasure, the city guard will be happy to take it, with this revised draft of your contract, sporting your name†I produced an exact copy of the contract, now with the Duke’s name proudly inscribed instead of “Anonymousâ€.
“No need for that good lad!†The duke smiled at me, trying to get on my good side it seemed. “How would you like your payment? Gold? Silver? Platinum? What is your preference?†he sat back and started sipping wine from his disgustingly gaudy, jeweled wine glass
I guess my answer surprised him, because he ended up giving me, his documents, and even Degelder’s head a good red shower. “Your desk.â€
“I have the gold here†he pushed an obese red velvet bag towards me.
“I believe I said that I wanted your desk as payment, you can have it shipped to my quarters at the Fox Guild by tomorrow, good day†I left the room, chuckling to myself. I loved doing that to people, making them fall back onto their heels. It was the spice of life.
“Damnit Shyntzyne, I have a huge ironwood desk sitting in the hallway. Nobody can take it apart to get it into your “quartersâ€, which, may I remind you, you don’t have! So what am I supposed to do with an unbreakable desk?†Ah, the rantings of Geldion. It always irked him why I never got my payments in a useful currency, and that I always had the overly large pieces sent to my “quartersâ€.
“Oh Geldion, what would you do without me?â€
“I could say something cliché like, retire, or, live in peace, but you have heard all of those before. Without you I would be retired in peace.â€
“Well, well, aren’t we feeling creative today? Have any jobs for me?â€
“I did, but I have decided to have you reassigned, take on another…line of work todayâ€
“Will I be cleaning the chamber pots? Scrubbing the windows of the highest tower? Working in the kitchen? What is it today?â€
I learned that Geldion WAS In a creative mood that day, “You will be disassembling this desk you had delivered to me†he gestured towards the desk. “Have a nice week†Geldion turned away and disappeared around the corner.
“Finally, a task worthy of my skills!†I yelled down the hall, and started examining the desk, laughed and fell asleep on its smooth, lacquered top.
I was awakened by a tapping on my shoulder, and an angry old man staring at my face.
“I thought I told you to take this monstrosity apart!â€
“Fine, you can watch me, this will not take long.†I reached under the desk and found the joint I had seen on my inspection the previous night. Wedging my dagger into it, I twisted the blade, and the entire desk fell apart into small, movable pieces.
“Tricks of the trade old man, tricks of the trade†I said to his astonished (and slightly disappointed) face. “Now, do you have a real job for me?â€
My new quarry was a man named Forard, another politician no doubt, another waste of my talent. At least the payment would be worth it, my good old friend the Duke Henrique was the proprietor, I guess this time I could take his decorative armor, or maybe the family shield he kept above his leather chair, near where his desk used to be.
The contract said that this Forard character would be at the central depository at two hours after midday, which proved to be accurate to the minute. Maybe this nobleman had some calluses. He was a powerfully build man, standing over six feet tall, with a strange air about him. He walked, coin purse hanging from his belt by a thin leather strap, ripe for the picking, which, I noticed, someone was about to do. About to, but the pickpocket never got within two feet of Forard before the nobleman buried a knife in his skull.
“At least the bastard has some aim with that strength of hisâ€
I continued my hunt, watching the man pass by safe house after safe house, passing every guild hall, and every smugglers den. He continued walking forward in a straight, determined line. When we reached the gates of the city he finally deviated from his course, turning left and down a narrow alleyway sharing a side with the towering wall that surrounded Obad'hi. Puzzled, and more than a little disturbed, I followed silently, keeping to the shadows, not daring to show my face in this confined space. Then he stopped and turned to the right. Now facing the side of a building, he placed his hand on the wall and muttered some inaudible phrase. To my amazement the wall became a fabulous archway and, looking impressed with himself, Forard strode into the structure. Inside was a luxurious room filled with every sort of pleasure imaginable. From Tobacco to alcohol, women to cocaine. I just stood there in the doorway attempting to comprehend the wealth that was laid before me. Then I was falling.
I awoke to the sight of a man, rather tall, with a scruffy grey beard and a useless looking rapier at his side. He was smiling at me. Then he touched my stomach. Searing pain ripped through my body, searing my flesh and rendering my incapable of conscious thought.
"Who sent you child?"
"I am not…" I never finished that sentence, he touched my stomach again.
"Who sent you child?"
"I am working alo…" another touch, another death.
"Child, your life means nothing to me. Tell me who sent you. Who would dare send you. And why. Or you will die. And I will find the ones you work for. I do not need you to live. I just need your flesh, but I am a compassionate parent. Now tell me. Who sent you child?"
"I was told you were an aristocrat. That this was to be an easy assignment. I was promised a kings fortune for your head. I know not who sent the request."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA" the man burst out laughing, as if he had just been told a hilarious joke, and could not control himself. "Ah child, that is the best laugh I have had in a long time. I thank you for that. Now tell me, why were you trying to take my life?"
"I told you," I repeated, in the most serious tone I could muster over the pain, "I was given a request. Kings fortune. Your head. Easy job. Anonymous request. Please.â€
“Hmmm. Isn't this interesting. So you have no idea who I am do you child?â€
I shook my head.
“Oh dear me! Allow me to educate you. My name is Forard, as you know. I am the sorcerer of this generation. Oh someone must want you dead t give you a job like this. Oh this is most intriguing!â€
I heard a growl from the other end of the room, and felt the ground shake. A huge Tibetan Mastiff plodded across the room towards me.
“Edgar, down boy. Daddy is busy.â€
The dog heeled, but still his gaze burned into my eyes. His longing for fresh meat stealing my courage. I knew the canine could rip me to pieces. Even if I was not tied to a table and in horrible pain this dog could (and definitely would) inflict some serious damage to me. I was thankful for his obedience.
“Now back to business. You were sent to me to die. However, being a compassionate parent, I will heal you, and we shall go about this dirty business like civilized people. Yes? Good you agree. In one week we shall have our contest.â€
Over the next week Forard cast spells over me, and gave me plenty of food and water. He treated me well enough for someone who was very soon going to attempt to take his life. I was allowed free reign in his house, not that I could get anywhere that required his unique magical touch to enter. Just once I tried to open the door to what I assumed to be his personal study. I put my hand on the slate slab as I had seen him do many times. Electricity rushed up my arm and coursed through my entire body. I was paralyzed for three hours. I avoided his personal rooms after that. After a week, fully healed, Edgar came into my room with a message from the sorcerer. I was to follow the dog to the fields outside of the city gates, to fulfill the challenge.
Out on the field Forard greeted me saying, “Ah hello child, you decided to keep your honor and fight. A noble thing. You are a true warrior. You realize the value of honor. So few do.â€
“Shall we begin them sorcerer? I have work to attend to.â€
“First I shall know your name. It is only polite, as you know mine.â€
“Shyntzyne, it means...â€
“I know what it means child. And it is most fitting for you. Let us begin. Edgar, make sure none of the city guards come near. No sense in hurting them, they do not require my attention.â€
Then it began. I have never seen such ferocity in one attack. Forard ran at me impossibly fast, then thrust his arm forward and caught me in the right shoulder. I heard a pop, followed by a crack, then a rip. I knew before I looked that my entire right arm was gone. I heard the sorcerer laugh behind me, so I turned to face him, somehow staying conscious through the pain. He was holding my arm and using it to wave to me. Furious, and blinded by rage, I gathered all of the energy in my body, physical and spiritual, into the soles of my feet and let it loose. Behind me the ground split, and I was flying towards the sorcerer at incredible speeds. My good left shoulder slammed him in the abdomen and bent his body over mine in a back shattering position.
Forard looked surprised when he stood up and looked at me. Then he laughed. His laugh echoed through the field, must have been heard for miles in every direction.
“Ah child, it seems I am no longer unique. What a day this is, what a moment for the history books! Two sorcerers facing off. It is my belief that this sort of combat has never taken place. Oh what a lucky day for me! Unfortunately for you, I have two hundred years more experience in shaping my power. And your in no condition to use up your energy, and for that matter†he looked at his shattered spine “neither am I!â€
Seeing an opportunity to attack, I sprang forward and, with my good left arm, drew my dagger from my boot, without missing a stride. I dove for his heart. Out of nowhere, Edgar hit my flank with a flying tackle that left me sprawled on the ground.
For a moment I thought I was doomed, that Edgar was going to rend my body to pieces and I would be his meal for the next week. Instead Forard placed his had on the ground and started chanting loudly in a language that I had never heard before.
“Etchan, Morial, Estervak, Yulitath, Regrelso, Marikal. Geoliac yeh ralthat srak lumen.*â€
He repeated this six times, each time the earth underneath me shuddered and shook as if he were creating an earthquake. After the sixth time, he stood up, his backbone repaired, and glared at me.
“Shyntzyne, a quick death is not what you deserve for forcing me to do this. Consider our destinies fused.â€
Forard the sorcerer extended his hand and yelled one word, one burning word that has branded itself onto my soul. He cracked an evil smile
“Live!â€
From his hand shot an amazingly silver beam, which lit up the entire field. The beam went straight through my heart and wound its way through my entire body. I felt it in my heart, in my legs, in my arms, in my lungs, everywhere. It settled into my bones, my skin, my muscles.
“There we go child, now daddy will always be a part of you. You wont die until daddy dies. Have a nice life child.â€
For the first time since he started the spell I looked around at the field. I was now in the middle of a desert. I knelt down and cried. My home, and my city had been destroyed. Consumed by the damned sorcerer and his spell. Consumed for one purpose, energy.
âDamn you. DAMN YOU! You consumed them all! You...you...you..â€
“Yes child, I did. I am not bound by your pitiful conscience. Live on in any manner you wish. But be ready. We will challenge again.â€
He dissapeared in a swirl of green smoke, and I was alone. Alone, responsible and alive. Before I killed for money, and only for a good amount at that. However, this man I was going to kill for free.
Harry Readinger © 2006
Short Story
2/23/2006
Untitled
The fire was warm. Warm not only because of the flames, but because of the company. It had been a long time since I felt the warmth of friendship. I had forgotten how good it felt to be cared about. The food was just about done before any of us noticed our new guest. He had snuck up on us, and was sitting, quite uninvited, at our fire. For a moment nobody moved, we all just sat and stared at this hooded newcomer, and with growing apprehension. Our fire started to flicker, and the sweat that before was my bodies only source of cool, was beginning to freeze to my skin, painfully stinging my sun burnt flesh. Then he moved, and so did I. I whipped out the dagger that was tucked away in my belt and went straight for his heart. I was surprised, and joyful to hear the sound of steel ripping through skin and muscle. For a moment I felt his heart beat. The next thing I knew, I was flying backwards, and I noticed a tree running towards me at an incredible rate.“Silly boy†said a voice that sounded like a box of nails being dragged over a chalkboard, “I can't die yet. I am not finished with this place!†I opened my eyes, only to see a sight so horrifying that I wished the tree had killed me. It's him, I thought to myself, this is bad, so very bad. I looked around for my friends, only to find that I was by myself, at the bottom of the tree I had slammed into. My arms and legs were bound to a stout log, making any sort of coordinated movement impossible.
“Damn you! DAMN YOU!†I screamed
“Hush now little child, daddy will put you and the children to sleep, but not before the story is finished!â€
He cackled maniacally and dissapeared in a swirl of green smoke. Thats when I felt the pop. It was my left shoulder, coming out of its socket. At that moment I knew who that man was, for only he would do something so cruel, as to make the log I was bound to magically start to shrink. Only after my knees and hips had also dislocated would the log slim down enough for me to escape. This was going to be a rough night. My point was accentuated by the screaming of my friends. Oh, he was going to pay, and that damned dog of his wont stop me this time.
Another shortening, and finally both my knees went. My body collapsed as soon as the friction holding the roped in place wore off enough for me to move, I could only hope that one of my newfound friends was very flexible, or we were all in trouble, lying helpless on the ground, best-case we would have all of our supplies stolen, worst case, the thieves would decide we are not worthy of our lives. Thats when I heard the sound of footsteps from the forest to my left, and feeling I had nothing to lose, yelled for help.
“HELP, I NEED HELP! PLEASE HELP ME!â€
“Ho there! What have we here? Tell me boy, what happened to you?â€
“I-I need help, please get me to a physician, and my friends, them too...â€
I woke up to find myself lying on a bed, in a warm room filled with the dancing shadows of firelight. I look to either side and smiled. There they were! My friends. To my left, Brian cracked an eyelid open and smiled when he saw me.
"Brian…what…why did…" His eyes closed and he fell back asleep.
"I think you owe me an explanation…Brian." Said my mysterious rescuer
"It seems I do, and I thank you for your help, without you…" I shuddered and entertained thoughts of what a city man would do if he found me lying there helpless. "It happened four thousand years ago, in the country of Obad'hi, deep in the southern regions of the world." The man's quizzical look showed me that even though he thought himself educated about the world, he had never heard of this country in the south. "The civilization there was destroyed over two thousand years ago now, hence the desert…"
"Hold on there lad, tat desert has been around forever, no civilization could have ever lived there. I know, I have been there on an expedition. Nothing man made was found."
"Please, let me continue, you asked for an explanation, and if you let me, I will give you one. Whether you believe it or not is not my problem."
"Please continue"
"And so I shall. As I said, it was four thousand years ago in Obad'hi. There was a man, named Forard, who would do anything you wanted done, for a price. He was a doubly rare breed. For one, he was a being with innate magical ability, of which one, maybe two people per generation can claim to be. And he was a work-alone mercenary. Oh, and my name isn't Brian, its Shyntzyne, a name befitting my old trade, for it means Invisible Hunter. I was, and to this day continue to be, an assassin. Now, it was a Thursday and I was sent on a mission, targeting a local politician…"
________**________
The street was very busy, even I had a hard time finding my quarry, but his characteristic red overcoat was too obvious to lose, for very long. He was making haste towards some unknown destination, I didn’t really care where, not that it even mattered. I had access to all of the safe houses and guild buildings in the city, whether the proprietors knew it or not. This, I look down at my contract, Degelder is an aristocrat of some sort, with his fancy sword at his side, trying to look as though he can actually defend himself. He's probably never even lifted the thing, I thought. This was going to be fun. Oh so very fun.
The little bug turned down a narrow little alleyway. So, he is going to do business with the Helmites, interesting. He must have done his homework. The Helmites were actually priests who kept their word, for a price. And judging by the quickness of his step, he had a lot of word owed to him. Probably just some crippling blackmail on his rival. Politics are so trivial, no honor involved, no sport. That’s why I have always tended to be more sharply associated with my clients, well, those who don’t pay me anyways. I pondered using my crossbow to rip out his windpipe and let him choke on the poison that covered the shaft, but I decided that I felt like getting my hands dirty, really dirty.
The Degelder creature stopped in front of a blank stone wall, covered in moss and mildew. He still had not seen me approaching, not even when I shoved the blade of my dagger up the base of his skull and crushed his windpipe with my right hand. I never let my quarry see me, that takes all the fun out of the hunt. My personal thoughts were interrupted by his sudden increase in weight. He truly was a pitiful specimen, couldn’t even stay alive for a minute. That was all the business I had for the day so I took my time rummaging through his pockets, the obvious and “hidden†ones. I always found it comical when people like this had these hidden pockets. Why would those pockets keep their possessions safe? Most thieves will just kill the person and then rummage through his clothes anyways, even pickpockets have started taking up the trend. All in all the man was carrying very little that I valued to keep, with one exception. He had a fascinating set of throwing daggers. Very good quality steel, with opals on each hilt, the kind that “professional†duelists wear for decoration on a sash over their chest to show the crowd that they are “dangerousâ€.. I decided that I may adopt the look, hell, I was a man and I was a professional killer. I took them, and the bug’s head.
THUD. I slammed the sever head onto the desk of Henrique, Duke of Quinthel, the poor section of Obad’hi, not to say that he never got a full plate food six times a day.
“Who the hell are you? And what is this..†he blanched at the sight of Degelder’s head, and regarding it with a waving finger, ‘doing on my desk?â€
I smiled. “Did you not order the Degelder Sir? I will take it back to the guard if the order is incorrect in any way.â€
“The contract said to leave the head with the Leader of the guild you work for, and wait…†he looked puzzled all of a sudden, then frightened “the contract liated the payer as “Anonymousâ€, how did you…â€
“You don’t give me enough credit…sir. Unlike other murderers, I stay informed with regards to politics, below and above the table. Now, if you do not want this little treasure, the city guard will be happy to take it, with this revised draft of your contract, sporting your name†I produced an exact copy of the contract, now with the Duke’s name proudly inscribed instead of “Anonymousâ€.
“No need for that good lad!†The duke smiled at me, trying to get on my good side it seemed. “How would you like your payment? Gold? Silver? Platinum? What is your preference?†he sat back and started sipping wine from his disgustingly gaudy, jeweled wine glass
I guess my answer surprised him, because he ended up giving me, his documents, and even Degelder’s head a good red shower. “Your desk.â€
“I have the gold here†he pushed an obese red velvet bag towards me.
“I believe I said that I wanted your desk as payment, you can have it shipped to my quarters at the Fox Guild by tomorrow, good day†I left the room, chuckling to myself. I loved doing that to people, making them fall back onto their heels. It was the spice of life.
“Damnit Shyntzyne, I have a huge ironwood desk sitting in the hallway. Nobody can take it apart to get it into your “quartersâ€, which, may I remind you, you don’t have! So what am I supposed to do with an unbreakable desk?†Ah, the rantings of Geldion. It always irked him why I never got my payments in a useful currency, and that I always had the overly large pieces sent to my “quartersâ€.
“Oh Geldion, what would you do without me?â€
“I could say something cliché like, retire, or, live in peace, but you have heard all of those before. Without you I would be retired in peace.â€
“Well, well, aren’t we feeling creative today? Have any jobs for me?â€
“I did, but I have decided to have you reassigned, take on another…line of work todayâ€
“Will I be cleaning the chamber pots? Scrubbing the windows of the highest tower? Working in the kitchen? What is it today?â€
I learned that Geldion WAS In a creative mood that day, “You will be disassembling this desk you had delivered to me†he gestured towards the desk. “Have a nice week†Geldion turned away and disappeared around the corner.
“Finally, a task worthy of my skills!†I yelled down the hall, and started examining the desk, laughed and fell asleep on its smooth, lacquered top.
I was awakened by a tapping on my shoulder, and an angry old man staring at my face.
“I thought I told you to take this monstrosity apart!â€
“Fine, you can watch me, this will not take long.†I reached under the desk and found the joint I had seen on my inspection the previous night. Wedging my dagger into it, I twisted the blade, and the entire desk fell apart into small, movable pieces.
“Tricks of the trade old man, tricks of the trade†I said to his astonished (and slightly disappointed) face. “Now, do you have a real job for me?â€
My new quarry was a man named Forard, another politician no doubt, another waste of my talent. At least the payment would be worth it, my good old friend the Duke Henrique was the proprietor, I guess this time I could take his decorative armor, or maybe the family shield he kept above his leather chair, near where his desk used to be.
The contract said that this Forard character would be at the central depository at two hours after midday, which proved to be accurate to the minute. Maybe this nobleman had some calluses. He was a powerfully build man, standing over six feet tall, with a strange air about him. He walked, coin purse hanging from his belt by a thin leather strap, ripe for the picking, which, I noticed, someone was about to do. About to, but the pickpocket never got within two feet of Forard before the nobleman buried a knife in his skull.
“At least the bastard has some aim with that strength of hisâ€
I continued my hunt, watching the man pass by safe house after safe house, passing every guild hall, and every smugglers den. He continued walking forward in a straight, determined line. When we reached the gates of the city he finally deviated from his course, turning left and down a narrow alleyway sharing a side with the towering wall that surrounded Obad'hi. Puzzled, and more than a little disturbed, I followed silently, keeping to the shadows, not daring to show my face in this confined space. Then he stopped and turned to the right. Now facing the side of a building, he placed his hand on the wall and muttered some inaudible phrase. To my amazement the wall became a fabulous archway and, looking impressed with himself, Forard strode into the structure. Inside was a luxurious room filled with every sort of pleasure imaginable. From Tobacco to alcohol, women to cocaine. I just stood there in the doorway attempting to comprehend the wealth that was laid before me. Then I was falling.
I awoke to the sight of a man, rather tall, with a scruffy grey beard and a useless looking rapier at his side. He was smiling at me. Then he touched my stomach. Searing pain ripped through my body, searing my flesh and rendering my incapable of conscious thought.
"Who sent you child?"
"I am not…" I never finished that sentence, he touched my stomach again.
"Who sent you child?"
"I am working alo…" another touch, another death.
"Child, your life means nothing to me. Tell me who sent you. Who would dare send you. And why. Or you will die. And I will find the ones you work for. I do not need you to live. I just need your flesh, but I am a compassionate parent. Now tell me. Who sent you child?"
"I was told you were an aristocrat. That this was to be an easy assignment. I was promised a kings fortune for your head. I know not who sent the request."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA" the man burst out laughing, as if he had just been told a hilarious joke, and could not control himself. "Ah child, that is the best laugh I have had in a long time. I thank you for that. Now tell me, why were you trying to take my life?"
"I told you," I repeated, in the most serious tone I could muster over the pain, "I was given a request. Kings fortune. Your head. Easy job. Anonymous request. Please.â€
“Hmmm. Isn't this interesting. So you have no idea who I am do you child?â€
I shook my head.
“Oh dear me! Allow me to educate you. My name is Forard, as you know. I am the sorcerer of this generation. Oh someone must want you dead t give you a job like this. Oh this is most intriguing!â€
I heard a growl from the other end of the room, and felt the ground shake. A huge Tibetan Mastiff plodded across the room towards me.
“Edgar, down boy. Daddy is busy.â€
The dog heeled, but still his gaze burned into my eyes. His longing for fresh meat stealing my courage. I knew the canine could rip me to pieces. Even if I was not tied to a table and in horrible pain this dog could (and definitely would) inflict some serious damage to me. I was thankful for his obedience.
“Now back to business. You were sent to me to die. However, being a compassionate parent, I will heal you, and we shall go about this dirty business like civilized people. Yes? Good you agree. In one week we shall have our contest.â€
Over the next week Forard cast spells over me, and gave me plenty of food and water. He treated me well enough for someone who was very soon going to attempt to take his life. I was allowed free reign in his house, not that I could get anywhere that required his unique magical touch to enter. Just once I tried to open the door to what I assumed to be his personal study. I put my hand on the slate slab as I had seen him do many times. Electricity rushed up my arm and coursed through my entire body. I was paralyzed for three hours. I avoided his personal rooms after that. After a week, fully healed, Edgar came into my room with a message from the sorcerer. I was to follow the dog to the fields outside of the city gates, to fulfill the challenge.
Out on the field Forard greeted me saying, “Ah hello child, you decided to keep your honor and fight. A noble thing. You are a true warrior. You realize the value of honor. So few do.â€
“Shall we begin them sorcerer? I have work to attend to.â€
“First I shall know your name. It is only polite, as you know mine.â€
“Shyntzyne, it means...â€
“I know what it means child. And it is most fitting for you. Let us begin. Edgar, make sure none of the city guards come near. No sense in hurting them, they do not require my attention.â€
Then it began. I have never seen such ferocity in one attack. Forard ran at me impossibly fast, then thrust his arm forward and caught me in the right shoulder. I heard a pop, followed by a crack, then a rip. I knew before I looked that my entire right arm was gone. I heard the sorcerer laugh behind me, so I turned to face him, somehow staying conscious through the pain. He was holding my arm and using it to wave to me. Furious, and blinded by rage, I gathered all of the energy in my body, physical and spiritual, into the soles of my feet and let it loose. Behind me the ground split, and I was flying towards the sorcerer at incredible speeds. My good left shoulder slammed him in the abdomen and bent his body over mine in a back shattering position.
Forard looked surprised when he stood up and looked at me. Then he laughed. His laugh echoed through the field, must have been heard for miles in every direction.
“Ah child, it seems I am no longer unique. What a day this is, what a moment for the history books! Two sorcerers facing off. It is my belief that this sort of combat has never taken place. Oh what a lucky day for me! Unfortunately for you, I have two hundred years more experience in shaping my power. And your in no condition to use up your energy, and for that matter†he looked at his shattered spine “neither am I!â€
Seeing an opportunity to attack, I sprang forward and, with my good left arm, drew my dagger from my boot, without missing a stride. I dove for his heart. Out of nowhere, Edgar hit my flank with a flying tackle that left me sprawled on the ground.
For a moment I thought I was doomed, that Edgar was going to rend my body to pieces and I would be his meal for the next week. Instead Forard placed his had on the ground and started chanting loudly in a language that I had never heard before.
“Etchan, Morial, Estervak, Yulitath, Regrelso, Marikal. Geoliac yeh ralthat srak lumen.*â€
He repeated this six times, each time the earth underneath me shuddered and shook as if he were creating an earthquake. After the sixth time, he stood up, his backbone repaired, and glared at me.
“Shyntzyne, a quick death is not what you deserve for forcing me to do this. Consider our destinies fused.â€
Forard the sorcerer extended his hand and yelled one word, one burning word that has branded itself onto my soul. He cracked an evil smile
“Live!â€
From his hand shot an amazingly silver beam, which lit up the entire field. The beam went straight through my heart and wound its way through my entire body. I felt it in my heart, in my legs, in my arms, in my lungs, everywhere. It settled into my bones, my skin, my muscles.
“There we go child, now daddy will always be a part of you. You wont die until daddy dies. Have a nice life child.â€
For the first time since he started the spell I looked around at the field. I was now in the middle of a desert. I knelt down and cried. My home, and my city had been destroyed. Consumed by the damned sorcerer and his spell. Consumed for one purpose, energy.
âDamn you. DAMN YOU! You consumed them all! You...you...you..â€
“Yes child, I did. I am not bound by your pitiful conscience. Live on in any manner you wish. But be ready. We will challenge again.â€
He dissapeared in a swirl of green smoke, and I was alone. Alone, responsible and alive. Before I killed for money, and only for a good amount at that. However, this man I was going to kill for free.