Сообщение от Mazaniam
(
Chapter Four)
The Lord of Time sat on his throne in all his high-elven glory. Beside him, a large, crystal ball was standing on a pedestal. He had seen the future of a young human, Frederick. His fate was intwined with three others, a death knight named Tekfein, a mage named Jeremy Heraldson, and a ebon knight called Sir Nobleheart...--
I looked over at my training companion, Earl, a death knight with a large rebellious streak and a even larger scar down his face. It was a fresh wound, in a fight with a orc, Gorgosh. His speciality was the Unholy powers. Being a hybrid myself, I found Earl an easy opponent.
"He-yah! Feel the touch of Sacrifice! Blade of all that is unholy, strike down this foe of mine!" I exclaimed, jumping forward and pinning him to a curved wall, resulting in a uncomfortable bend.
"Ouch? Ga-" He collapsed, writhing in agony from his own, self-designed, Internal Freeze spell. The human was so weak he could not even withstand that.
"Please, Quarrel, spare me your wrath!""This time, new-born." I cleaned my blade on his cloak, before kicking him sharply in the ribs.
"Up. NOW!" With a groan, the Trainee got up.
"Thank you...." He gasped, before staggering off.
--
Jeremy sat upright in his uncomfortable bed. With a gasp, he staggered out of the scrapheap.
"Uhh..."
He was in Gilneas now, in a small town, near the wall. It had taken him just over three months to get here. The orcs had moved on, taking his journal and gold with them. Goddamned green-skinned-fel-users! He had been living since two days ago off the tavern's owner's kindness. But last night, he had been given an ultimatum that he had to go, and, happy enough, he had started to pack. But then he couldn't sleep. he was having a nightmare of Fred, clad in scourge armour, standing alone on a hill in a dusty area, possible Silthius. Across from him, a large Ebon Knight in full plate armour. He was Sir Nobleheart. The most disturbing of all though, was a hollow laugh, without doubt Bolvar Fordragon's, that repeated over and over... then a large, booming voice screamed,
'ITS OVER!' and a inferno exploded, waking him.
The owner of the Tavern handed him a horse's reins, smiling softly.
"Here ya' go son. Ya' know, that friend of yers? Well, me son well, he um...well died.....if ye' catch me meanin'." He said.
"I see. May he one day become one of true death's guests."
"Thank you, friend. Now go!"
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(Alright here, we, go! I'll try to get a fightin' scene in next chap, and I know this is short, but IDC!)
