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Whoops. I misread a sentence :wacko: When I read the part where Kyujuni said "If I had not owed my life to him for his saving of mine, I would have killed him,” for some strange reason, I thought he was talking about ValdemarLord G. Q. White said:Did I miss something? Where did you get that opinion?
Kyujuni said:
Bah
you needed saving to get away, what kind of assassin is that Valdemar could impress that wall, a touch of earthmagic rocking its foundations should get its attention
V
I'm having a hard time capturing the right mood and words to exchange between the main characters of the next update. I'm going to try and work something out soon hopefully my wife can help me with it and I can nail down the update.
It's good to know the little things get nocited in life.
It's good to know the little things get nocited in life.
Valdemar looked at the collected Kindred, his face an impassive mask.
He briefly wondered if he should attempt to end it all, here and now, while the magic was still burning inside him, a freeze spell or molden rock would capture them all instantaniously, and only one could rival his magic.
He dismissed the thought, the assissins were proof that his location was no longer secret, and he could not hide against the colloected Kindred if he killed the leaders of all the Houses.
The assassins. Plural. His senses scanned the place where the white clad Kindred had disappeared. It was highly unusual for assissins of his level to work together. He almost tasted the thought. Highly unlikely in fact. He had never heard of a white assassin to be willing to depend on anything but his own abilities.
But tonight there had been more than one, least the one he had caught had gotten away, which lead to another unwelcomed thought, not only had someone betrayed his Castle's location. The second team hahd had their own agenda, hand't they? Yes, one of stealth, vivdly recalling the misplaced book he wondered what he would find to be missing when he returned to his chambers.
He briefly wondered if he should attempt to end it all, here and now, while the magic was still burning inside him, a freeze spell or molden rock would capture them all instantaniously, and only one could rival his magic.
He dismissed the thought, the assissins were proof that his location was no longer secret, and he could not hide against the colloected Kindred if he killed the leaders of all the Houses.
The assassins. Plural. His senses scanned the place where the white clad Kindred had disappeared. It was highly unusual for assissins of his level to work together. He almost tasted the thought. Highly unlikely in fact. He had never heard of a white assassin to be willing to depend on anything but his own abilities.
But tonight there had been more than one, least the one he had caught had gotten away, which lead to another unwelcomed thought, not only had someone betrayed his Castle's location. The second team hahd had their own agenda, hand't they? Yes, one of stealth, vivdly recalling the misplaced book he wondered what he would find to be missing when he returned to his chambers.
GQ I have taken the liberty of keeping the story alive, the thought appeared while driving here, to the second part of my holiday, let me know if its OK otherwise I'll delete it
V
V
No actually that was great. I couldn't have written it better myself. I have the next scene written but to give it flavor I need translations into swedish so as soon as I get them I'l post it.
Brandenburg
Friedrich walked down the stone steps towards the dungeon. Thankfully he hadn’t had much cause to go down there often. Most of his subjects behaved themselves and the few that didn’t were easily “reconditioned” for society.
The torches along the walls and the dampness made him a little nervous. It’s not like he expected some monster to jump out of the shadows and scare him but something put him a little on edge.
Maybe it was simply being out of his element. Years of residing in the luxurious palace had softened his views on the world. Now that he gave it further thought he realized that perhaps he should have brought a guard along for company.
“Relax, it’s your own palace and the only people down here that you have to fear are locked up and can’t get to you,” he said to reassure himself. It didn’t help much.
Reaching the lowest level he took a moment to observe the door leading to the cells themselves. Unlike the palace itself or the steps leading down the door was showing some affects from the elements. It was constructed of the strongest wood that they had been able to import, but even so some places were beginning to show water damage and growths of mold and mildew.
He knocked on the door and waited. A moment later the door was opened and Friedrich was left glaring at the keeper. The keeper’s name was Ulthor and he was a very physically deformed creature. His head sprouted bumps and spots in various places and his skin in general was covered in scars and burns. Something about his skin being unable to take the sunlight caused damage to Ulthor’s skin. When Friedrich had offered him the job as Dungeon Keeper, Ulthor had happily accepted.
“It is good to see you again, your majesty,” Ulthor said as Friedrich walked through the door and looked around.
“Which one is the bag in,” Friedrich asked quickly.
Ulthor pointed to the last cell at the end of the long chamber. “Do ye want me to go with you,” He asked.
“No I can handle it I think. Thanks for asking though,” Friedrich replied as Ulthor handed him a large key.
Friedrich could sense a rising fear as he stepped towards his goal. It was nonsense he knew but something somewhere just didn’t like the unknown. When he at last reached the door he took a moment to calm himself down and realized that he had broken into a cold sweat.
He put the key in the lock and turned it. Hearing the telltale ‘click’ he then pulled the door open. Lying in the floor was a large sack, probably about the height of a large man. As he stepped inside Friedrich said a quick prayer and shut the door.
He slowly bent down and untied the ropes holding the sack shut. He then grabbed one end and began pulling it off of the object inside.
He gasped in astonishment when a man’s head appeared. He quickly pulled the rest of the cover off to reveal a man peacefully asleep from the looks of it. He took a moment to observe the man.
He estimated that he was well over six feet and probably weighted more than two-hundred pounds. He had short cut hair and sported facial hair only around his mouth. He clothes suggested that perhaps the man had once been a noble of some land. A curious ring adored one finger on his left hand. Its center jewel slowly changed colors randomly.
A moment or two went by before Friedrich noticed the small piece of wood jabbed through the man’s torso where his heart should be. A chill ran down his spine while he debated about whether to remove it.
Surely it couldn’t be an evil creature of the night, like the rumors that he had listened to from the comfort of his dinning halls. But what if it was? A sense of dread crept over him and he almost fled the cell. Only his maddening curiosity kept his feet planted.
“Only one way to find out,” He whispered as he reached for the wood and prepared to pull it out.
Friedrich walked down the stone steps towards the dungeon. Thankfully he hadn’t had much cause to go down there often. Most of his subjects behaved themselves and the few that didn’t were easily “reconditioned” for society.
The torches along the walls and the dampness made him a little nervous. It’s not like he expected some monster to jump out of the shadows and scare him but something put him a little on edge.
Maybe it was simply being out of his element. Years of residing in the luxurious palace had softened his views on the world. Now that he gave it further thought he realized that perhaps he should have brought a guard along for company.
“Relax, it’s your own palace and the only people down here that you have to fear are locked up and can’t get to you,” he said to reassure himself. It didn’t help much.
Reaching the lowest level he took a moment to observe the door leading to the cells themselves. Unlike the palace itself or the steps leading down the door was showing some affects from the elements. It was constructed of the strongest wood that they had been able to import, but even so some places were beginning to show water damage and growths of mold and mildew.
He knocked on the door and waited. A moment later the door was opened and Friedrich was left glaring at the keeper. The keeper’s name was Ulthor and he was a very physically deformed creature. His head sprouted bumps and spots in various places and his skin in general was covered in scars and burns. Something about his skin being unable to take the sunlight caused damage to Ulthor’s skin. When Friedrich had offered him the job as Dungeon Keeper, Ulthor had happily accepted.
“It is good to see you again, your majesty,” Ulthor said as Friedrich walked through the door and looked around.
“Which one is the bag in,” Friedrich asked quickly.
Ulthor pointed to the last cell at the end of the long chamber. “Do ye want me to go with you,” He asked.
“No I can handle it I think. Thanks for asking though,” Friedrich replied as Ulthor handed him a large key.
Friedrich could sense a rising fear as he stepped towards his goal. It was nonsense he knew but something somewhere just didn’t like the unknown. When he at last reached the door he took a moment to calm himself down and realized that he had broken into a cold sweat.
He put the key in the lock and turned it. Hearing the telltale ‘click’ he then pulled the door open. Lying in the floor was a large sack, probably about the height of a large man. As he stepped inside Friedrich said a quick prayer and shut the door.
He slowly bent down and untied the ropes holding the sack shut. He then grabbed one end and began pulling it off of the object inside.
He gasped in astonishment when a man’s head appeared. He quickly pulled the rest of the cover off to reveal a man peacefully asleep from the looks of it. He took a moment to observe the man.
He estimated that he was well over six feet and probably weighted more than two-hundred pounds. He had short cut hair and sported facial hair only around his mouth. He clothes suggested that perhaps the man had once been a noble of some land. A curious ring adored one finger on his left hand. Its center jewel slowly changed colors randomly.
A moment or two went by before Friedrich noticed the small piece of wood jabbed through the man’s torso where his heart should be. A chill ran down his spine while he debated about whether to remove it.
Surely it couldn’t be an evil creature of the night, like the rumors that he had listened to from the comfort of his dinning halls. But what if it was? A sense of dread crept over him and he almost fled the cell. Only his maddening curiosity kept his feet planted.
“Only one way to find out,” He whispered as he reached for the wood and prepared to pull it out.
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What? It just seemed to be the proper place to break the post in two.
Ok OK I'm guilty. I'll post the rest saterday sometime.
Ok OK I'm guilty. I'll post the rest saterday sometime.
Lord G. Q. White said:
Why is it that in horror stories people do the stupidest things?
Like back into dark rooms or spilt up large groups so that they can be killed one by one or pull stakes out of strangers chests? You've captured the mood perfectly White.
Joe
I'm glad I held back the update as considering the "mood" of the 1st half and looking at the 2nd part they are not of the same "feel" so I am reworking it to give it a darker feel and more on target with the 1st part. Probably monday morning east coast time I'll have it up.
As he neared the wooden piece he thought he heard sounds around him. He wasn’t sure exactly what they were so he paused and took a moment to look around again. The cell was not meant to be very comfortable and sported only straw in the corner to serve as a shoddy resting place.
“Not like you’re going to be using it huh,” He asked the prisoner. He took another moment to calm himself enough to reach for the wood again.
As his hands neared it again he heard what he swore sounded like voices whispering softly nearby. A great and powerfull sense of dread crept over him and he could smell the scents of death and decay as if the cell was full of bloated and dead bodies.
Again he withdrew his reach and looked around. The voices were gone, and he smelled nothing out of the ordinary. “I really must be losing my mind. I’m scared of pulling a stake out of a dead man’s body?” He joked to himself.
That was until he noticed something written upon the wall in blood.
Operor Non Excito Atrum Procer.
That did it for Friedrich. Noble or not he was alone and seriously worried that he was about to awaken a spawn of hell. “Not tonight I’m not and certainly not all by my lonesome,” He shouted as he turned to leave.
The door slammed shut before he could reach it.
“You will awaken my master,” he heard a voice inside his head say.
He was now so worried he could feel warm moister trickling down his legs. “Please I just want to go home. I’ll never come down here again,” He cried.
“You must do this one thing. He can bring your kingdom great power and glory. But he must never know about me. Pull out the stake and then you may leave,” The voice said back.
Reluctantly, He pulled the wood free, the whole while expecting the man to jump and him and attack him. Nothing happened.
“You may leave now,” The voice in his head said and the door again opened slightly.
As he turned to leave he heard a noise and spun back around. The man was now standing and was looking wildly around the room obviously frightened.
“Vad händer, var är jag, vem är du,” The man asked in a deep voice.
Friedrich looked at the man in confusion. Unable to grasp what was said. In response he said, “It is ok. Nothing is going to hurt you. Who are you?”
The stranger looked back in confusion and said, “Vad säger du? Jag förstår inte vad du sager?”
Friedrich looked at him and tried to motion with his hands that everything was going to be ok. The Man saw the piece of wood in his hand and the sword on his hip.
“Tänker du döda mig? Snälla, döda mig inte,” He said excitedly and took a few steps back.
Friedrich, noticing he was pointing at the wood and the sword; he took of the sword and set them both in the floor. “I mean you no harm. Where do you come from,” Friedrich asked as he backed up a step.
The man tried to smile and said “Känner du någon som talar mitt språk?”
“He doesn’t speak as you do, He speaks as one of from the north does,” The voice in his head said.
“Look, I’m going to leave and maybe I can find somebody that can communicate with you. When I do I will come back and perhaps we can talk. But until then you’ll have to stay in here,” Friedrich admitted as he picked up his sword and headed for the door.
“Jag vill inget illa. Snälla hjälp mig,” The man said pleadingly as Friedrich shut the door.
“Not like you’re going to be using it huh,” He asked the prisoner. He took another moment to calm himself enough to reach for the wood again.
As his hands neared it again he heard what he swore sounded like voices whispering softly nearby. A great and powerfull sense of dread crept over him and he could smell the scents of death and decay as if the cell was full of bloated and dead bodies.
Again he withdrew his reach and looked around. The voices were gone, and he smelled nothing out of the ordinary. “I really must be losing my mind. I’m scared of pulling a stake out of a dead man’s body?” He joked to himself.
That was until he noticed something written upon the wall in blood.
Operor Non Excito Atrum Procer.
That did it for Friedrich. Noble or not he was alone and seriously worried that he was about to awaken a spawn of hell. “Not tonight I’m not and certainly not all by my lonesome,” He shouted as he turned to leave.
The door slammed shut before he could reach it.
“You will awaken my master,” he heard a voice inside his head say.
He was now so worried he could feel warm moister trickling down his legs. “Please I just want to go home. I’ll never come down here again,” He cried.
“You must do this one thing. He can bring your kingdom great power and glory. But he must never know about me. Pull out the stake and then you may leave,” The voice said back.
Reluctantly, He pulled the wood free, the whole while expecting the man to jump and him and attack him. Nothing happened.
“You may leave now,” The voice in his head said and the door again opened slightly.
As he turned to leave he heard a noise and spun back around. The man was now standing and was looking wildly around the room obviously frightened.
“Vad händer, var är jag, vem är du,” The man asked in a deep voice.
Friedrich looked at the man in confusion. Unable to grasp what was said. In response he said, “It is ok. Nothing is going to hurt you. Who are you?”
The stranger looked back in confusion and said, “Vad säger du? Jag förstår inte vad du sager?”
Friedrich looked at him and tried to motion with his hands that everything was going to be ok. The Man saw the piece of wood in his hand and the sword on his hip.
“Tänker du döda mig? Snälla, döda mig inte,” He said excitedly and took a few steps back.
Friedrich, noticing he was pointing at the wood and the sword; he took of the sword and set them both in the floor. “I mean you no harm. Where do you come from,” Friedrich asked as he backed up a step.
The man tried to smile and said “Känner du någon som talar mitt språk?”
“He doesn’t speak as you do, He speaks as one of from the north does,” The voice in his head said.
“Look, I’m going to leave and maybe I can find somebody that can communicate with you. When I do I will come back and perhaps we can talk. But until then you’ll have to stay in here,” Friedrich admitted as he picked up his sword and headed for the door.
“Jag vill inget illa. Snälla hjälp mig,” The man said pleadingly as Friedrich shut the door.
Ohh
What does the latin mean? (I can ofc easily read the Swedish)
And who is that voice? The same as at the Grave? and Why could it bind him at the Grave? Why is he not attacking now like he did at the Grave?
V
What does the latin mean? (I can ofc easily read the Swedish
)And who is that voice? The same as at the Grave? and Why could it bind him at the Grave? Why is he not attacking now like he did at the Grave?
V
Valdemar said:Ohh
What does the latin mean? (I can ofc easily read the Swedish
Do Not Wake the Dark Prince
You ask for so many secrets.
All will be revealed in good time.