Nightmare

[Roland_Deschain]

So, here's a short story to give those who care a bit of a look into Ragnarok's backstory, specifically that of the character "Nightmare."
Here goes....

Nightmare

Nightmare marched endlessly, leading the company of six hundred soldiers down the plains. Ahead, barely within sight, stood the tower of Elyssus, before it Elyssus itself, the city sprawling around the marble structure. From where he marched, Nightmare couldn't see the townsfolk, milling about, playing through this day as any other, not knowing the doom that was to befall them.
Within an hour, the tired, hungry soldiers reached the designated camp ground. Many sat, others stood. Nightmare wandered this way and that for a while, then told his lieutenant he was going off alone.
Nightmare approached the city, the northern kingdom's first attempt at branching out into the Gredas desert. One hundred thousand called the city home, and by this time tomorrow, not a one of them would remain.
The black clad knight entered the city and slowly walked to the center. He passed an inn where a portly young woman kicked a drunken slob out on to the street. He saw an old man, homeless, sitting outside a large mansion, begging for food or coin. He watched a man, presumably a butcher, slaughter a cow. All sights common in the cities he was raised in.
"Perhaps we are not so different, brothers," Nightmare mused.
Eventually he found his way to the town's center, a large marble castle. Nightmare waited for a guard to lower the gates, and stepped inside. He continued his walk, never slowing, until he stood before a large wooden door. He knocked twice, received a brief "come in," and stepped inside.
Before him stood a small man, clad in a green traveling cloak. His hair was brown with hints of gray creeping in. King Alexandre DeVaun, in all his aging majesty.



No, that's not the end. I'll have more up next week, maybe this weekend.

[Boba_Fettuccini]

lemme guess, this is from your game.

[Moosetroop11]

It lacks detail, but overall it's pretty good. You've mastered the art of integrated description, for one thing.

[Phayre]

Excellent, and gratefully lacking in many annoying pitfalls of the amateur writer.... like long, annoying paragraphs babbling about appearances et cetera. Keep it up and you get a cookie.

[aboutasoandthis]

I'm not going to lie to you. This is ridiculously well written. Based on your past writings, I didn't believe you scored as well in English as you say you did. This proved me wrong. Wow.

The only thing I don't like about it is its length. At first glance, it looks like some tiny thing you did when you were bored. For a real first chapter, it should be at least ten times that amount. When yoou have something that long for people to look at, people are more likely to pay attention to it. Keep Going!

[Roland_Deschain]

It turns out that the notebook this was in is in Ellsworth, an hour from where I live. I'll have it back by Friday at midnight. Well, here's something I wrote for creative writing, it's a ten-page story, sequel to my game Ragnarok.

The bar, despite the cacophony that had just seconds ago eminated from within it, even spilling out onto the street, fell silent. A loud "thunk" near the door had been the cause of the silence, and there stood a man, one gloved hand holding a dagger that was stuck firmly in the door. He stood only a little over five feet tall, shirtless, his shoulders draped by a long, unbuttoned,  black coat. He wore boots up to his knees, they like the coat, the color of midnight. His hair stood out among the black attire, steel-grey and cut so that it covered the top ofhis blood-red eyes. Two fangs protruded from his upper lip, only just enough to be seen. This man was a vampire. He released the knife and there it stayed, as though he were marking his territory. He walkedconfidently toward the bar, not sitting down. "I have come to see Feliss," he hissed."I know of you, Darkhart," Said the large, ruddy-skinned mulark barkeeper. "Your kind aren't welcome here."
 The strange man smiled, his fangs more visible against his pallid skin. "You try to hard to sound fearless. I can smell your fear. Just tell me where he is."
"I'll not betray my brother to you, assassin!" The mulark shouted. A few of the bar's patrons slid closer as he spoke.
 The assassin smiled still. "I do not wish to kill your brother, Ragiss. I only need to speak with him for a moment." His eyes seemed to shine as he said, "There is no profit in killing an ally."
Ragiss, shivering from head to toe at the man's cold, snake like voice, weakly offered, "I could go and get him for you."
"No. It is better that we meet away from such a crowd. They might alert the guards, you understand," he said with a mechanical chuckle.
Ragiss showed the vampire to a door marked with a triangular eye symbol, the same that this man wore on his coat. The name above, written in Common and Mulark script, said simply "Feliss." The assassin smiled again at Ragiss and stepped through the door.
Meanwhile, in the bar, a trio of humans and an elf watched the man enter the room. The largest human spoke first. "Hey, Derius, ain't that Erkai?"
A smaller human, wearing a rust red robe, smiled. "Indeed, Michael. That is the legend himself."
Michael, a large half-mulark clad in a suit of chainmail, chuckled as he said "That man didn't look so tough. We could take him."
The black-garbed archer, shook his head. "No, it would be foolishness. He has killed far stronger men and mularks than yourself, Michael."
"Shut it, Xerxes. just because you're afraid..." Michael began.
"Please," warned Darius, "Not so loud. Xerxes, I think Michael is right. Together, we three would destroy him before he'd have a chance to draw his blade."
Xerxes sighed. "Well, so long as we do this my way this time."
Michael laughed. "Your way? What, you mean backstabbing and treachery?"
Darius held up his hand. "Stealth seems the best option. If we give him too much notice, he would have enough time to prepare himself for whatever we throw at him. We should proceed with caution."

"Erkai! To what do I owe the displeasure?" Laughed the tall, red-haired mulark, Feliss, as Erkai stepped in to the chamber, closing the door cautiously behind him.
"The contracts have run dry, Feliss. I need coin fast," the vampire explained, dropping his cold, hissing voice and heartless charade. "I need to buy that blood supplement. You know as well as I that I
cannot begin feeding on humans!"
"Always straightforward," the jovial mulark said with a smile. "That may be why I like you, 'Darkhart.'" He stood up, walking over to a bookshelf. "You know, I received a contract today you might be interested in."
"Oh, really? Explain." Erkai strolled over to Feliss's desk, examining the greataxe encased in glass behind it. Ebony, with a gold handle, Erkai noted. Great for display, not much for fighting.
"Yeah. Some guy in Elyssus. Apparently he broke some sort of religeous commandment. Three-thousand denn for his head."
"Only three? Hmm...." Erkai paused. "That makes, what, ten thousand firiens by todays exchange rate, right?"
"About, yes,"said Feliss, dropping the contract on the desk before his friend. "Well, ten thousand forty-two, but who's counting, eh?"
Erkai smiled. "Tell the contractor I'll take it." As he finished, Xerxes, Derius and Michael burst into the room, brandishing a bow, a dagger, and a greataxe, respectively.
"We're here to kill you!" shouted Michael.
Xerxes and Darius shook their heads. "This isn't what I had in mind for a stealthy entrance," sighed Xerxes. Michael ran forward, trying to knock Erkai off balance with is speed and size. This was no barroom
brawl, however, and Erkai no drunk. The agile assassin dodged easily, leaping into the air. He came down on Michael's back, impaling him with a black blade that none of them had seen him draw.
tab Darius, more wary and cautious than his dead body guard had been, began circling the assassin, giving Xerxes room to get a shot in. As Darius began chanting the words to an arcane invocation, Xerxes
let fly an arrow. Its aim was true, hitting Darius straight through the heart.
Darius turned to his companion, stunned and betrayed, but Xerxes only shrugged and said, "Backstabbing and treachery." Darius fell to the floor, the shocked expression still visible on his face.
"I wasn't expecting them for another week or two," said Erkai, the sword no longer in his hand.
"It seems that my rivals are getting impatient."Xerxes retrieved his arrow, wiping the blood off and placing it back in the quiver on his back.
"Sorry. Derius and Michael were supposed to wait, but when they saw you, they decided to claim the glory for themselves."
"No matter," sighed Erkai. "Oh, Xerxes, I have a contract for you." He tossed the paper over to his pointy-eared half brother. "Read it, memorize it, and give me..... thirty percent of the profit."
"Alright. I'll return when I'm finished."

As the three assassins conversed in the tavern, far away was a man, Gram Enith by name, long black hair and white coat billowing in the wind. He stood in what was once a  glistening marble city, New Babylon. He had played his minor part in its destruction during the Tempestra War, and now came to reflect on his past.. He looked down and to the left, a pile of obsidian armor glared back at him, shining in the midday sun.
Nightmare, he'd once been called, long ago when he still wore that armor and Mikail Jenseric had been nothing, he was just a boy. Now, three hundred years later, Enith wondered if it had all been worth it. Darius, the real Darius, not the illusionist imposter using that name, was dead, and he supposed that was all that mattered. That death had come at a price, though: the boy, Mikail, and his brother Lyle, had given their lives to help him kill Darius. Enith thanked them for that, but in the end he was like Darius, willing to spend innocent lives to accomplish his goals.
Enith took up his sword, named Nightmare after what he had once been called, and began donning the plate mail. He began with the boots, next the greaves. He fastened the breastplate third, putting his gloves on only after he had finished the rest of the body.
Finally, he slid the helmet over his head and draped his white coat over his shoulders like a cape. He now stood closer to seven feet than six, an imposing monster, a nightmare.
He marched forward, out of the ruins where he had first met Mikail those years ago. He began the long journey to Elyssus, his home and where he had last seen king Alexandre DeVaun, three-hundred years dead like the rest. He had heard that his friend, Archel the winged vampire, had been caught trying to kill a priest of Frenze, the one god. Enith went to help the aven, last of his kind, escape his fate.
As he walked out of the ruins, he paused. He'd heard footsteps behind him. Enith turned, and there stood Xerxes Thardrak, an elf and half brother to his most hated foe, Erkai the Darkheart. "Afternoon, Daydream." laughed the assassin, his tone mocking.
Normally, he would have ignored the taunt and the man altogether, but today he went in search of a friend fleeing judgment.
Xerxes was a known assassin, meaning he could be after Archel, reasoned Enith. 'I may as well listen to him today,' Enith thought,
'he could have some valuable information.'  "What is it, elf? Something to say?"
"No, no, I'm actually in a hurry. I want to get to that sinner in Elyssus before anyone else does. Ten thousand firiens!" Xerxes smiled. "Not that you're interested."
"Oh, I am," said Enith, feigning annoyance. "I actually thought about going into that business myself. Tell me, do you know anything about the guy?"
"Heh. No, but if I did, I wouldn't tell you, Daydream. Professional secrets, you understand."
Enith sighed. "Alright, then. I guess I'd better go, too. I should get going if I want to make Nwot'der by nightfall."
Xerxes laughed again, and seemed to bounce away as he ran.
'So, the church has called in assassins like him to go after Archel, eh? That's more valuable information than Xerxes ever could've provided me,' Enith mused. He took a small pouch from his belt and set it on the ground. "Nirehn sertha ner Elyssus," he chanted, the activation key for the teleportation powder. "Ner freza de terhas Elyysus nar!"
The powder glowed bright red for an instant, and then Enith stood in the center of Elyssus, the bustling marble city filled with people, midday the most popular shopping time. He stepped off the teleportation platform and walked west, drawing stares from every direction as he began his search for Archel.

Erkai stepped out of the Dragonhome tavern, into the uncomfortable sun. He hissed, then darted into the shadows on his way to the Sanctuary. The Sanctuary was actually an abandoned church of Frenze, emptied years ago when Darius the Blasphemer established himself
as the true god. The outside walls had fallen to shambles, vines creeping up to the roof and many stones loose or missing altogether. The building had a hand-shaped architecture, with the "palm" serving as the chapel and prayer room, the "thumb" as the minister's quarters, and each of the "fingers" a library or study room. Now, though, Erkai had converted the once-holy place into a sanctuary and guildhall for his assassins' guild, the Unseen.
The Unseen were a rag-tag band, a mixed species group consisting of twenty members. Ten were human, five elves, four mularks, and a single aven, Archel the destroyer, as the second in command. However, Archel had been missing since he had been sent to assassinate the head of Frenze's church in Elyssus.
'Strange,' thought the vampire, 'the contract in Elyssus was for someone who had sinned against Frenze.' It came together, then, like finding the lost piece to an incomplete puzzle. Archel was the one he had sent Xerxes to kill!
Erkai turned, though the Sanctuary was in sight now, and ran south to the city's exit, hoping he wasn't too late.

Archel flew unnoticed over the small city of Nwot'der, "Red Town" in the aven language. He kept a vigilant eye over the city, hoping to catch
a glimpse of his boss, Erkai, to tell him of the failed mission. He spotted him, running at a swift pace. Archel stopped suddenly and flew into a nose-dive,coming to a halt right in front of the guildmaster. He folded his wings behind his back and bowed. He smiled, thankful to have been born one of the few aven without a beak, and as he did so, Erkai hissed "Not here, we need shadow."
The two vampires ducked into a nearby house, hoping it was empty. Finally out of the scorching sun, Erkai dropped his hood. "I was on my way to find you. I take it the contract didn't go so well."
"No, Lucien killed the mark before I could." Archel said calmly. "It went fine otherwise. I have his head." He indicated a burlap sack he had been
carrying. "N'mad, that thing stinks."
"So you haven't heard?" Erkai questioned. "You're wanted, ten thousand firiens for your head. I mistakenly sent Xerxes to collect the bounty."
"Why would I be wanted?" laughed Archel. "No one saw me but Lucien."
"Lucien may be impersonating the priest he killed," Erkai reasoned. "He may have put the price on your head to eliminate the competition."
tab "Oh.... So, he's offering that much for my head, huh?"

The sun had long ago set, replaced by a full moon, and yet Enith still had no luck finding Archel. He wondered bitterly if Xerxes had found him first, at least until Xerxes appeared beside him. "Didn't expect to see you here, Daydream," the elf muttered. "Weren't you on your way to Nwot'der?"
"N'mad," cursed Enith. "Alright, okay, I confess. I was on my way here to find Archel and help him escape the assassins like you that were after him. Okay?"
 "Archel? What? No, he's here on an assignment from Erkai. Sent to kill some priest or something like-" He stopped. "Oh, I see. You think we're after Archel because he was caught. Archel never gets caught, so I doubt it's him we're after."
"You sure? I heard that there's a ten thousand firien bounty on Archel's head," Enith stated matter-of-factly.
"Well, I wasn't given much information on the mark, but I doubt it was Archel. Maybe Lucien got caught or something." Xerxes turned around, facing away from Enith. "Anyway, I gotta keep searching. I want that bounty."
He walked away. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, saying, "Quit following me, huh, Daydream?" No one was there. A little afraid, he kept walking. Just seconds later, he heard a cold, familiar voice whisper in his ear.
tab press against his spine. "Just like you said." The attacker drove the blade through Xerxes's spine, walking away and leaving him to die alone on the streets of Elyssus.

Lucien Goldentoungue continued away from where he had left Xerxes to die. The elf was feeling particularly bloodthirsty this evening and decided to go after the other one, Nightmare, next. He had been warned about both of them, but that hardly seemed to matter. Xerxes had proven easy to sneak up on and finish off, Nightmare shouldn't prove that much more difficult. He carefully followed the large, armored man's path, avoiding detection and any light as easily as a fish swims through water.
Soon, his efforts were rewarded: Nightmare was standing in the center of town, sword sheathed on his back and helmet removed. Practically jumping for joy, Lucien drew his dagger, Silencer, and crept up behind the man, placing it gently against a small opening in his armor.
"I know you're there, Lucien," said the large man. "Put that dagger away and face me openly, for once in your cowardly life."
Lucien did not hesitate, plunging the dagger through the man's spine as he had done with Xerxes. Nightmare, however, did not even flinch.
"Come now, Lucien. I'm an Eternal, remember?" Nightmare taunted, spinning around, tearing the dagger from Lucien's grasp as he did so. "That never worked in the past." He drew a large, rust-red greatsword from his back, the same wicked curve it had possessed for hundreds of years adorning the tip.
tab Lucien took a step back, drawing his longsword Lifedrinker. "I'm not sure why I continue with the foolish attempts on your life," he growled, his grinding, monotonous voice like the scraping of nails on a chalkboard.  "I should just hit you with Lifedrinker and be done with it."
Nightmare laughed. "You, Lucien, cannot survive five minutes in open combat," he taunted.
Lucien charged the tall, armor-clad man, screaming like a demon and dropping his moss-colored travelling cloak, revealing leather armor the color of desert sand. He swung the thin, wickedly curved sword in a downward arc, hoping to cut Nightmare in half.
His opponent raised his own weapon, blocking the weak and off-balance strike. Nightmare retaliated by swinging his hook-tipped sword in a horizontal sweep, covering a half circle. Lucien dodged deftly, picking up his fallen dagger as he did so, and came at Nightmare again, this time with an advantage, or so he thought. The more experienced man sidestepped the awkward rush and brought Nightmare down on Luicien's head. Lucien barely dodged the wicked hook par
this time, and lost an ear for his carelessness.par
tab "N'mad!" he screamed when he saw his severed ear in a pool of his blood on the ground. He took the offensive again, this time throwing the dagger at Nightmare, who caught the blade easily. Lucien ran at him a third and final time. Nightmare tossed the blade casually.
"Too weak, Nightmare," Lucien cackled as he dodged. Nightmare, however, was nowhere to be found.
"Too slow, Lucien," said a deep, hollow voice from behind the elf. Lucien felt a strange sensation in his spine before collapsing on to the ground atop the dodged dagger. For a moment, he was aware of blood dripping from his back, and then consciousness was lost.
 Nightmare looked down on the unconscious elf, thinking him dead. He picked up his helmet and Lucien's weapons, then moved on away from the town square. He went to the town's north gate, turned west, and began his long march to Nwot'der.

"Your brother is dead," stated Archel as he and Erkai sat in what were once pews in the Sanctuary.
Erkai could hardly believe it. Xerxes had been found that morning with knife wounds in his spine. Nearby in Elyssus Square, there had been signs of a struggel, even a severed ear. Erkai guessed that Lucien had found Xerxes and the two had fought, Xerxes coming out the loser. He bowed his head. "Do they know who killed him?"
"No, Erkai," lamented Archel. "We think it was Lucien, but have no real proof."
"I see... keep me posted if something comes up," Erkai ordered solemnly. He moved into his quarters slowly, sadly. he sat down on his bed, took out a book, bound by a bloodstained white leather cover, and began to read.

Enith paused for the first time in hours. He looked up at the sky, cursing Erkai and all he had done. "I will kill you, too, Darkhart," he shouted to the heavens. " Just wait."

EDIT: Fix'd

[ZeroKirbyX]

I'll read it. But not with all the crap in there.

[Roland_Deschain]

Fix'd it.