Chat
Discord
05-02-2010, 09:39 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-03-2010, 07:08 AM by Magnamancy.)
... I don't have the time to spare to critique them all.
![[Image: m003.gif]](http://www.laymark.com/i/m/m003.gif)
At a glance I'd say they're all decent, at the very least.
*corrected some typos in my own. ^^;
Edit: Over 400 Posts
At a glance I'd say they're all decent, at the very least.
*corrected some typos in my own. ^^;
War (Click to View)
... a small, smooth stone, tied carefully to a bit of string.
He looked down at his hand, the stone shining a brilliant blue
even in the growing dark.
His shivering slowed as a warmth different from the growing cold
began to flow through him, and he lowered the stone to again
survey the battlefield.
He could see friends, lying bent and broken, amongst the
carnage, and his stomach fell. He'd lived with these people,
argued with them, joked with them. They had all set out this
morning confident of victory. Victory! How could we all have
been so naive?!
We'd thought they had been walking out to meet an opposing
army of savages of lesser numbers. An easy win, surely.
In reality, we had marched out into the valley, and nothing was
there to meet us.
But it was already too late.
The supposed savages had allied themselves with another army
that was supposed to be on our side, and out of nowhere those
traitors amongst our ranks had begun attacking us.
As we'd struggled to regroup and fight back, the savages had come
from all sides with weapons and monsters unlike anything we'd
ever seen.
We'd all fought with our best, but it wasn't a war.
It was a massacre.
He looked over his shoulder at a gigantic beast's carcass. That
massive, deformed creature had attacked from the left, plowing
through everyone and everything, it's eyes ablaze with a primal
rage.
He'd seen it tear apart friend and foe, and in an instant of his own
rage for his fallen friends, he'd charged it as it lunged at him.
His katana pierced through the beast's upper jaw as the beast's
teeth sunk into his shoulder. The momentum of the beast carried
it over him before he could react, and then it all went black.
When he came to, he found his armor, despite being cracked
and nearly broken, supporting the bulk of the dead monster's
weight. After realizing he could still move, he struggled, barely
managing to get out from under the thing, and retrieved his sword
as he looked around.
It was all over, there was no one else.
He looked away from his friend’s corpses, and began to slowly
make his way forward.
The dark of the night grew, The little light there was, was coming
from the nearly full moon peeking through the clouds. The sickly
light convulsed the scene before him as he walked into something
he'd not even seen in nightmares.
The dead bodies, their eyes, they seemed to scream in pain, in rage,
they wanted to hurt, to kill as they had been...
He wrenched his eyes away, looking to his side. More monstrous
carcasses... we're they really dead? Did it just move?
The shadows were playing tricks, they had to be, everything
was dead...
A shrill cry erupted from behind him.
He jumped forwards, turning quickly but a little unbalanced as he
landed. He couldn't see anything beyond the silhouettes of the
dead warriors and beasts in the abysmal light.
He blinked. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.
His hand fell and tightly gripped the hilt of his sword that hung by
his side. Nothing moved, the eerie silence felt heavy on his ears.
Did he imagine it?
For a moment, nothing happened.
Again shrill cry, and then another, both high pitched and wailing
like the first, broke out either side of him. His eyes widened in
terror as from between the dead bodies glowing yellow eyes came
into view, shining in the small light from the moon.
He drew his sword as a cloud moved, letting the moon illuminate
the valley.
The creatures we're hunched over, almost crawling along the
ground. He could hear the snarls now, the bright white fangs bared...
He turned quickly, his shaking almost breaking his footing, as he
swung at the monster that grew close.
He missed... it jumped back, it's face contorted in rage...
There was more of them. As the one already visible grew closer, others
came out from behind the dead the dead and from the darkness,
too many...
He screamed at them as he spun himself in a tight circle, his sword
arcing through the air, driving them back, but not enough...
His balance wavered too much, breaking under the strain.
He hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of him. His sword
bounced out of his hand, he reached for it, but it went too far.
He was going to die, like he should have, along with his friends...
Amidst the cries of the monsters, the thudding of their feet drawing
close, his own strained breathing, he heard something else hit the
ground.
His eyes looked down.
A small, brilliantly blue stone sat on the dirt and crushed grass.
"... check this rock out." He'd remarked, holding the stone up for
her to see. "Wow... it's beautiful." She'd replied back, smiling.
He'd let his eyes catch hers, and then had gazed back at the stone,
smiling himself. "Yeah, it is. It reminds me of you." She'd laughed,
catching him in an embrace...
The warmth, more powerful than his fear, more powerful than
anything surged through him. His shaking slowed, it stopped...
He couldn't hear anything, no, yes he could, he could hear his
breathing. He struggled upright and looked around.
Where had the monsters gone?
The dead soldiers... the monstrous carcasses... He got to his feet,
listening intently. There was nothing. Nothing moved. Not the
slightest whisper of noise came from anything besides himself.
There wasn't any sign of them, or any sign of anything having been
here since the army's battle.
The sword still sat where it had fallen and he picked it up, looking
at the blade. He then surveyed at the valley.
The dead, his dead friends...
He drove the sword into the ground, so it firmly stuck upright.
His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out the bit of string,
which must have come loose after all this time...
Closing his eyes tightly as tears ran down his cheeks, he began to mutter...
... he stood back up and turned away from his sword, everything he
wanted to say to his friends had been said and left with his sword,
along with a small blue stone, tied tightly to a bit of string...
He didn’t have to die, someone back home needed him more than his
friends did...
He looked down at his hand, the stone shining a brilliant blue
even in the growing dark.
His shivering slowed as a warmth different from the growing cold
began to flow through him, and he lowered the stone to again
survey the battlefield.
He could see friends, lying bent and broken, amongst the
carnage, and his stomach fell. He'd lived with these people,
argued with them, joked with them. They had all set out this
morning confident of victory. Victory! How could we all have
been so naive?!
We'd thought they had been walking out to meet an opposing
army of savages of lesser numbers. An easy win, surely.
In reality, we had marched out into the valley, and nothing was
there to meet us.
But it was already too late.
The supposed savages had allied themselves with another army
that was supposed to be on our side, and out of nowhere those
traitors amongst our ranks had begun attacking us.
As we'd struggled to regroup and fight back, the savages had come
from all sides with weapons and monsters unlike anything we'd
ever seen.
We'd all fought with our best, but it wasn't a war.
It was a massacre.
He looked over his shoulder at a gigantic beast's carcass. That
massive, deformed creature had attacked from the left, plowing
through everyone and everything, it's eyes ablaze with a primal
rage.
He'd seen it tear apart friend and foe, and in an instant of his own
rage for his fallen friends, he'd charged it as it lunged at him.
His katana pierced through the beast's upper jaw as the beast's
teeth sunk into his shoulder. The momentum of the beast carried
it over him before he could react, and then it all went black.
When he came to, he found his armor, despite being cracked
and nearly broken, supporting the bulk of the dead monster's
weight. After realizing he could still move, he struggled, barely
managing to get out from under the thing, and retrieved his sword
as he looked around.
It was all over, there was no one else.
He looked away from his friend’s corpses, and began to slowly
make his way forward.
The dark of the night grew, The little light there was, was coming
from the nearly full moon peeking through the clouds. The sickly
light convulsed the scene before him as he walked into something
he'd not even seen in nightmares.
The dead bodies, their eyes, they seemed to scream in pain, in rage,
they wanted to hurt, to kill as they had been...
He wrenched his eyes away, looking to his side. More monstrous
carcasses... we're they really dead? Did it just move?
The shadows were playing tricks, they had to be, everything
was dead...
A shrill cry erupted from behind him.
He jumped forwards, turning quickly but a little unbalanced as he
landed. He couldn't see anything beyond the silhouettes of the
dead warriors and beasts in the abysmal light.
He blinked. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.
His hand fell and tightly gripped the hilt of his sword that hung by
his side. Nothing moved, the eerie silence felt heavy on his ears.
Did he imagine it?
For a moment, nothing happened.
Again shrill cry, and then another, both high pitched and wailing
like the first, broke out either side of him. His eyes widened in
terror as from between the dead bodies glowing yellow eyes came
into view, shining in the small light from the moon.
He drew his sword as a cloud moved, letting the moon illuminate
the valley.
The creatures we're hunched over, almost crawling along the
ground. He could hear the snarls now, the bright white fangs bared...
He turned quickly, his shaking almost breaking his footing, as he
swung at the monster that grew close.
He missed... it jumped back, it's face contorted in rage...
There was more of them. As the one already visible grew closer, others
came out from behind the dead the dead and from the darkness,
too many...
He screamed at them as he spun himself in a tight circle, his sword
arcing through the air, driving them back, but not enough...
His balance wavered too much, breaking under the strain.
He hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of him. His sword
bounced out of his hand, he reached for it, but it went too far.
He was going to die, like he should have, along with his friends...
Amidst the cries of the monsters, the thudding of their feet drawing
close, his own strained breathing, he heard something else hit the
ground.
His eyes looked down.
A small, brilliantly blue stone sat on the dirt and crushed grass.
"... check this rock out." He'd remarked, holding the stone up for
her to see. "Wow... it's beautiful." She'd replied back, smiling.
He'd let his eyes catch hers, and then had gazed back at the stone,
smiling himself. "Yeah, it is. It reminds me of you." She'd laughed,
catching him in an embrace...
The warmth, more powerful than his fear, more powerful than
anything surged through him. His shaking slowed, it stopped...
He couldn't hear anything, no, yes he could, he could hear his
breathing. He struggled upright and looked around.
Where had the monsters gone?
The dead soldiers... the monstrous carcasses... He got to his feet,
listening intently. There was nothing. Nothing moved. Not the
slightest whisper of noise came from anything besides himself.
There wasn't any sign of them, or any sign of anything having been
here since the army's battle.
The sword still sat where it had fallen and he picked it up, looking
at the blade. He then surveyed at the valley.
The dead, his dead friends...
He drove the sword into the ground, so it firmly stuck upright.
His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out the bit of string,
which must have come loose after all this time...
Closing his eyes tightly as tears ran down his cheeks, he began to mutter...
... he stood back up and turned away from his sword, everything he
wanted to say to his friends had been said and left with his sword,
along with a small blue stone, tied tightly to a bit of string...
He didn’t have to die, someone back home needed him more than his
friends did...
Edit: Over 400 Posts
Trust you're all well.