|
Something that might be cool if devaloped(comments please!!! |
|
|
|
|
|
|
“Our Warlord wishes not to be disturbed.”
“We must speak to him! We-“
“I do empathize with you, but orders are orders, yes they are! Especially when it comes to my master! Yes it does.”
“Why can’t he see us?”
“Who is us?” Makkiani asked uneasily. The male looked over his shoulder, where his companions were supposed to be. The little winged sprite looked back over her own shoulder, in the direction of the hollow tree, which was the Warlord’s home. Makkiani saw the two other human men at the door, getting ready to knock. “STOP!” Makkiani shrieked at the men. One looked back, while the other continued to bang the door. Makkiani fearfully squeaked, and zipped behind a near-by tree, while the spokesman could only tremble at the sound of the approaching Warlord. The noise stopped a moment and the two men at the door gave a sigh of relief. The one who knocked, leaned against the door, and gave a small smile. Makkiani still trembled behind the tree though, knowing what would happen.
In a flash the door was open and the one man fell into the house. When he looked up he saw the ferocious scowl of Korestra fall upon him.
Korestra had two fang-like teeth that were openly born, to the fallen human. His sharp elven outline, combined with his warrior strength, only added to his threatening form. There was a simple, but deep, scar that ran from just above his right eyebrow to his hip and the three men saw the entire thing from his bare chest and stone-like muscles.
“Well?” Korestra barked “Get up!” Immediately the man stood, and walked backwards with his companion to their leader. “…Who in all of the hells are you?” he asked the three, walking out of the doorway. He stood tall, as multiple rays of sunlight rippled over his muscular and toned body.
“I-I am Metor, s-sir…The spokesman of Arri.” The leader said first.
“Se’dall, sir.” The stupid one spoke next.
“I am Writt’Em.” The third replied, remarkably calmly.
“Makkiani!” Korestra barked, again. The sprite zipped from behind the tree to the warlord.
“Yes master?”
“Tell me how these humans managed to disobey the orders I gave you.” He scowled to the little one.
“M-master, I surely did not know of them! They are three big men-” she tried to explain, not looking, once, into his eyes.
“You did not know of them? How difficult is it to-”
“My lord… it was by no fault of hers that these two dolts disturbed you. She was speaking to me.” Metor tried to excuse her from his punishment. Both Korestra and Makkiani looked over to the man, both with completely different expressions. Makkiani, fearful and worried, Korestra, angered and at the end of his short patience.
“Metor…right…You are the spokesman for Arri? So far you have done a poor job of representing it.”
“Sir-”
“Shut your mouth!” Korestra snapped, a spell heavy on his words. “That is twice that you have interrupted me! Not only are you unable to control your damned mouth… you have no damn control over your incompetent oafs! Makkiani… show these three to Beneth…do not follow the river. Sylph, Tamorsa and Pennt are there.” Korestra ended quietly, turning back.
“My Lor-”
“GO, before I hurt you as badly as I want to!” At that the four beings ran, and flew as fast as they could to get away. When Korestra got in he passed through the long hall that held many of the doors to his home, until coming to a staircase at the end. He descended the staircase and unlocked a room to his left.
“I was informed that someone needed me?” He said into the room. Three elven males and two young female humans looked to him, and one male spoke up.
“Master,” he bowed low, as was custom, to the arms master. “ We found these females by the river. We do not know who they are, only that they are from Pilet’on. We cannot comprehend their dialect though.” Korestra walked to the girls and looked down at them.
“Well?” he asked after looking them over. One only starred at him, obviously seeing him as extremely attractive, the other did too but ignored it, and spoke in her native dialect.
“Sir…we came to the river as a sanctuary from our families.” She began simply, to see if he could even understand her. Korestra nodded and stepped back.
“Tamminas, go and get my sister. She should be in Rafakel. Jeken I dismiss you. Nelse I want you to stay here.” Korestra said to the others in the room. They filtered through a door on the opposite side of the room. Korestra sat in a nearby chair and talked to the women in their language.
“What are your names?”
“My name is Kentem, and my friend here is Cyte.”
“Did you mean to be found, or to come here?”
“Not at all… we did wish not to be found at all.”
“Well then you are free to go… this does not concern me-”Korestra stood from his chair and took only one step before he herd,
“We do need a place to stay… If you have the room.” Cyte finally spoke up.
“Cyte!” Kentem shouted to her friend “Be quiet! Like he said, this does not concern him! We cannot bring him into this!”
“I can… very easily.” Cyte smiled slyly, glancing up to him. Korestra herd what the two were saying, but pretended not to acknowledge any of it, turning his back to them and walking to Nelse.
“Cyte! If not for your lus-”
“Just look at him Kentem!”
“Shut your mouth! If it was not for you we wouldn’t have had to run!”
“Before you say anything Cyte, I would be quite if I was you. Kentem is obviously formidable, on these terms.” Korestra said, not even looking back to them. Nelse, looked up to his arms master, wondering about his odd behavior, ever sense he had entered the room with the ladies.
“Korestra… what is it?” He asked quietly.
“What?” Korestra asked with a slight hint of a smile.
“Is there something we have missed in the girls?”
“Oh, no…” he replied slyly. “Bring them to the main floor rooms… the ones beside Rasona’s.”
“Yes sir.” Nelse accepted, with a bow.
“Kentem, Cyte, follow Nelse, he will show you to where you may reside.”
“You see that, Kentem! We can-”
“Be quiet!” Kentem snapped. “I apologize in advance for her. Thank you for letting us stay here though.” Kentem said, following the elven student out.
----
“-What about the rear west? They won’t expect it.”
“They expect, and suspect everything, as they should, but if you spread your rear to a good few lines of excess men, then you could place some long range archers and line across with swordsmen.” Korestra pointed out on a map in the basement planning room, to the commander of an army at war.
“But then can’t they drop in, or place some mines?”
“Not if that’s where you hide your mages. Only about two of each, of course it depends on your numbers. You’ll also want a mountain troll or giant maybe, two to be safe, in the front, the northeastern, the northwestern and southern sides. Their thick skin will be good for fending.”
“When can you come to me with a plan of what to do?”
“I will not come to you, you must come to me. I can have it by tonight, but it would be wise on your part to come back in a coupe of days with some pay for me. I will tell you how much when you get here.”
“I will leave this for you then.” The commander said placing a purse on the table. Korestra picked it up, not taking his eyes off of the man before him until the bag was open. He looked in and saw the healthy payment he had asked for, in the beginning of this session.
“Good evening, my Lord.” The man bowed.
“Good day.” Korestra concluded, with a nod. The commander collected his map and exited the room.
Not ten minutes after the commander had left someone knocked on the door where Korestra still was with his drink and a calming fire.
“What?” He grumbled. He always wanted to be by himself after he had a meeting, and everyone knew it. He looked up from his own map where he was planing attack strategies, and pulled the pipe from his mouth. “What!” he asked again, this time louder so that they would hear him. “Kentem?” he asked. She was the last one he expected to come to him. “Why are you here?”
“Why not?”
“Because it is off limits!” He said impatiently.
“Well if you had informed m-”
“I did! I told you both of your boundaries!” Korestra began to shout. Kentem waited a moment and then asked,
“Why did you take us in?… I’m not stupid; there was something in your eyes. I’ve herd enough about you to know you’re not like that…No descendent of Kurabi Forester is like that, without a reason.” Her simple words halted Korestra, and all of his thoughts. A second later his mind raced, yet he still continued to stair at her. Kentem swiftly became uneasy about her decision to ask him, and took one step back, out of the room.
“How do you know?” is all Korestra could say, is all his pride would let him say.
“I can tell. Your library has such rare documents of and by her. And those swords by the entrance, I know they were once hers too.” Korestra gave her another inquisitive look and she continued. “I have always been a listener of her ways…She is a legend.”
“So then you’ve never seen her?”
“No…But I do know she was strong…Why did you take us in?” She asked again, changing the subject. Korestra looked up to her inquisitively, and answered her slowly.
“I don’t know…It is late, you should go. Cyte is asking questions.”
“How do you know?” she asked doubtfully. A moment later she herd up the stairs,
“Kentem?…You down there?” Kentem, this time, looked to the elf inquisitively, and turned to the staircase.
“I’m coming.” She shouted up. “Good night.” Kentem bowed to Korestra.
As she ascended the stairs, Korestra walked to the door and watched her go. ‘Why did I invite them to stay?’ he thought to himself.
---
“Nelse, have you seen master?” Makkiani asked as she zipped through the enormous home.
“No, not sense yesterday. Why?”
“Miss Rasona is here, yes she is.”
“Where?”
“What? Oh no…oh no, oh no, oh no! Now we have two missing masters, yes we do!” Makkiani squeaked, flying in small circles.
“Makkiani…Makkiani…Stop!” Nelse tried to halt her, but she still kept spinning and rambling on. Nelse reached, and snatched her from the air. “Stop! Relax! I’m sure Miss Rasona is merely outside. You go and get her while I find our arms master.”
“Yes, yes, thank you. You are so smart!”
“You are just hyper. If you relaxed, you’d be able to think rationally too.” Nelse said, letting her go.
Nelse walked down the long hallway, checking the places where Korestra might be. He heard some steps coming up from the stairway and looked down the hall. Nelse thought it odd that Korestra might be coming up from the lower rooms, but not too surprising. There were many rooms, below him that he knew no one but Korestra knew of. Magically hidden passages and doors that led to secret rooms used only by the warlord.
“Sir,” Nelse bowed when Korestra had come into full view, “Your sister awaits you at the doors…Sir?” Korestra paid no mind to his student, though looking perfectly normal. He was walking slowly, obviously tired, and came about halfway between the stairs and Nelse, before he turned to face the plain wall. Nelse was surely wondering what his arms master could be doing.
“Nelse come here.” Korestra’s words had caught Nelse off guard; they were the last things that he had expected to hear. But still he came, never disobeying an order.
Korestra said one word and the wall opened into another hallway. Nelse starred, wide eyed down the hall as the arms master began to walk down. “Well?” he asked, looking back to his student. Nelse took a few steps foreword and the wall closed behind him. Simultaneously twelve floating candles were lit, and Korestra led his student down the passage. Nelse did smell some whisky about his master, and suspected that as the reason.
“May I ask where we are we are going, sir?”
“You may…but I may not answer.” Korestra used the phrase that had practically defined his family for centuries.
Nelse looked around him. He had barely memorized the main building, in his twelve years of living there; he could not imagine how his master did. Every door was different, some were stone others wood, some carved and some plain. Others were locked and some were obviously magically sealed, allowing only Korestra through its passage. The warlord led Nelse to a large door at the end of the hall, and unlocked all the locks, which Nelse guessed to be at least twenty, with a simple phrase in some foreign and magical tongue.
“You shall not tell anyone what you see and learn in here…understand?”
“Yes sir.” Nelse agreed. With a quick nod Korestra held the door open and pulled Nelse to the side of him. Nelse looked into the room in awe at what he saw.
The room had to be at the least seventy-five feet long, and wide, and perhaps one hundred feet tall. Portraits of people, of all races, and the wars between them, lined the room. A fire lit on the right wall of the room, when the two walked in and shut the door, seemingly bringing the pictures to life. On the same wall were shelves of different books, all hand made. When Nelse walked in and looked at the wall that bore the door, he saw, what seemed to be, millions of different types of blades, most of which he had never seen before. The things that caught him slightly off guard were the shelves of liquor in the near corner.
“M-Master…what is this room?”
“Look around…you will see.” Nelse looked up to Korestra, as if for permission, The arms master kept his expression bland, as he starred into a portrait on the wall. Nelse walked over to the books and picked up a large one, that had some odd symbols carved into it, some foreign language. He opened it and a letter fell out. He glanced back up to see if Korestra had noticed, but Nelse only saw his ears twitch at the sound of the fallen paper. The boy bent down and picked up the paper.
Kurabi,
Do forgive me and do believe that I never ment to hurt you. If anything I wanted only to please you. You are, and forever will be the only one on my mind and in my heart. I do not know what to say. I am sorry. That is with no doubt of no meaning to you, but be as open minded as you can be when I say I am sorry, I miss you and I love you.
Love,
Aceo
Nelse thought the note too deep for him, but did give him a clue as to what this room was dedicated to. He then pulled out another book and opened it to a random page.
Once again Nor excuses my tournament victory as a flaw. How can you flaw talent? He is only jealous. He’s never had a STUDENT like me! He’s only had pathetic servants! I would bet my sword, he’s drunk right now boasting how HE had trained ME to be that good. I personally have no problem with it only because nobody likes him (except Xel) and nobody believes him. They all know me and know that I could destroy him!
The way the tournament really went is as follows: So first the “masters” need to go out and introduce their most talented student, witch was me. We had to wait for about fifty others, and then we began the elimination rounds. When we cane to the top eight, we entered the main arena. The chosen terrain was forest, easy for me, I am a Forester, it’s what I know. So I immediately took to the canopy. It wasn’t
The writing cut off there. There was an ink spill and a small hole in the paper, just below, which led Nelse’s mind to wonder.
“She never finished that.” Nelse jumped. He had not noticed his master behind him.
“It looks like something happened.”
“Probably Noruber.”
“Who is that?”
“That was her teacher.”
“…Who was she to you?”
“My Grandmother.” He replied, almost somberly.
 Diimari_Lives · Sat Sep 15, 2007 @ 01:10am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
