Post by Masamune. EXE on Jun 12, 2009 17:16:34 GMT
The Chronicles of Wind - The Reaper's Tale
Book 1: The Dead City
Black Sky, Black Cloak
By Gabriel Magill [Masamune. EXE]
Book 1: The Dead City
Black Sky, Black Cloak
By Gabriel Magill [Masamune. EXE]
The moon floated and glowed, the only living thing in a dead sky, for no stars shone there. And the darkness was absolute, save for the moon's eerie light.
The moon was all that brought life to Adalanteh, the Dead City. Nothing moved; little lived.
Upon a crumbling building did the lone figure stand, a scythe in its right hand, its black cloak billowing in the wind, its flitting, searing scarlet pupils the only sign of life in that statue like creature.
The figure's black and red eyes searched the mass of ruined dwellings for a sign of life; a misshapen shadow, a muffled footstep, a ragged breath; a sign that would betray the Daemons that had made their nests here.
Then movement; a shadow flickered in the distance, casting a silhouette of a great beast, its neck as long as a snake. The figure broke its static pose and leapt high into the black sky, its black cloak flowing behind it...
The beasts crept through the darkness, padding their way warily and silently. The beasts' long snake of a neck had retreated to its base and they crouched low on their great legs. The creatures detested the fact of the Reapers stealing what they had gained.
The leading Suhmurl tightly gripped a tome; a large book with the means to summon great beasts to their realm, and also held the means of controlling them. That was invaluable.
The Suhmurl that held back for fear of Reapers, ZillporthÃ, stated to his leader, ‘Ishûrl, we must flee with all haste! A Reaper could be upon us at any moment. We cannot risk losing the tome.’ Ishûrl turned and said, in a voice barely more than a whisper, ‘I know we cannot risk losing this book, ZillporthÃ. I know. The best way for us to escape this wretched city with both that tome and our lives is to not alert any of our existence.’
At that moment, Ven chose to reveal himself to the Suhmurl, his ruby eyes burning with anger and disgust. The two arguing Suhmurl did not notice him, for his black cloak blended into the night air so greatly. The third Suhmurl noticed him, for it had nothing to apply its attention to.
The howl of fear barely left its lips before the blade of Vens scythe cut the scream off at the base of the creature's throat.
Ven turned swiftly, intending to incapacitate the other Suhmurl before they could flee.The larger Suhmurl was already charging him, naked blade held high. The smaller was fleeing, tome in hand.
Ven growled and brought up his scythe, parrying the blow. The Suhmurl pressed its weight against the scythe, straining Ven’s muscles. The Suhmurl produced a deep, rough laugh from its throat. ‘You will not acquire that tome, Reaper. You are weak, but we, we are strong.’ It laughed once more, chilling Ven to his core. ‘Zillporthà is one of our fastest runners, though young he be. You would never wrest that book from his grasp!’ The Suhmurl spat in his face, and laughed.
Throwing back his hood, Ven’s scarlet pupils bored deep into the creature’s before him. The Suhmurl recoiled in open fear, eyes wide. ‘You... you are a... Durugûn?’ Ven threw back his head and laughed, long and high.
He returned his gaze to the Suhmurl’s. ‘No, Durugûn I am not. Many make that mistake.... For one, I do not have a Durugûn’s scaly hide.’ The Suhmurl’s fear slowly abated, his face growing into a blood curdling grin.
‘Oh, Durugûn we are not then? How disappointing.... I had hoped for a challenge, but now I have none!’ The Suhmurl threw its head back on its neck, silver irises staring to the inky black sky above. Then from its throat issued a language so throat torturing that few, but Suhmurl, could produce it. The Tongue of the Allahrai screamed from the Suhmurl, fusing with the roaring wind.
Ven leapt forward, intent on ending the beast’s torrent of intelligible words. The Suhmurl threw up its blade, ending Ven’s thrust midway. The creature’s eyes sought Ven’s, and they connected, freezing Ven’s blood.
Gone were the pupils, gone were the irises. Only white was there, in the Suhmurls’ so called eyes. The speech ended and the creature grinned. ‘Now, Reaper... Now you die!’
The clouds above them broke and formed into a raging tornado, sucking all into its gaping maw. From the whirlwind's eye sprung a great beast, a raging dragon composed entirely of bone. No thick skin covered the dragon’s skeleton, no membrane stretched over the gaps between the wings' bones, and nought made the beast seem alive, save for the burning black flames that flickered in its eyes' hollow sockets.
Ven gazed at the roaring Drïngá, the dead dragon resurrected through the forbidden power of Necromancy. Ven returned his glaring gaze to the Suhmurl, which was laughing with insane mirth. As the beast swung its glittering sword at him, Ven brought his scythe to the groin of Suhmurl, which whined in pain. Yelling a wordless shout, Ven tore the beast in half with the staff’s blade.
Then, Ven flew into the night, scanning the shadows for that of the smaller Suhmurl and the Tome of Thyör, all the while hiding himself from the great dragon of bone....
