Forever Demon III

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
War isn't always bad, it can lead to good things.

Submitted: July 07, 2008

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Submitted: July 07, 2008

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Forever Demon Three

Payton Smith

 

The stone walls had leeching tree roots growing along the sides causing a black eerie effect on the room. Shadows seemed to dance around as the few torches that were lit, flickered. It was a round room with leeks everywhere and a roof made of rotting wood. In the center of the room were five chairs all full. Four of them filled with skeletal remains and one with a man wearing black and red armor and a thick white cape. The living man held a black metal dagger that had red inscriptions along the blade of it. He looked around and the bodies and smiled.


“We’ve got much to plan my friends,” the man said and licked the dagger he held from the hilt to the tip of the blade. “It’s coming soon, oh very soon I can smell it a mile away! Yet we can’t let the rest of them find out or we could lose our heads!”

The man chuckled so hard he began to cough, but he stopped in a second and looked around the room again. A large grin grew across his face and he stood up. Walking around the room he looked at the bodies in the chairs even touching them every once and awhile. He stopped at one and put his hand into the body’s tunic pocket and pulled out a coin.

“What have we here, Mr. Linkarda?” the man asked. “You haven’t been, selling our information have you, because that would be such a waste.”

The man bent down and kissed the top of the dry skull then in one fell motion his dagger was driven deep into the hollow skull and the body fell to the ground in a small cloud of dust. The man bent down and looked at all the bodies right into the eye sockets as if waiting for something to happen, something like a person to speak out.

“Good, now that he is taken care of we can get back to business,” the man moaned and sat back in his original seat. “It will not take long my friends, for it is upon us that we will all fall. This kingdom will fall, even you Mr. Rezfel will fall. Yes, yes, I know you’re a mighty warrior in the time of need, but you cannot stop this, I cannot stop this, and even the great Lord Garenth cannot stop this. It’s up to all of us as a team to stop this. I am going to need a few things before we continue though. Mr. Rezfel, please contact General Mathregathss in the Northern Barricade Mountains that we need his troops to march down at once and take the kingdom. It will fall. It will be destroyed. It will be mine.”

The man burst out in laughter chocking once more and stopping.

 

*****

Two armies face to face, ready to spill blood with the opposing side, stood with anxiety as they awaited there lord’s order. It was all set to be upon a field that had been used for the games of war several times over. Rusted armor of past soldiers and knights rested in the overgrowing grass, slowly being taken over by weeds and whatever animal found it suitable living. Even though it was shrouded by clouds, the moon was high in the late night sky and still somewhat visible. The hunters of the night stayed quiet sensing a large dispute was about to unfold. A man from one army walked out of rank, wearing dark gray with dark blue inscriptions in the chest. His shoulder pads had large spikes merging out, a top his helmet were two horns, and clearly you could tell animal fur was being worn underneath because it stuck out anywhere there was a crack in the armor.

“Gerte, in your opinion is it time to strike,” the man that walked out said.

A second man walked up to him his armor the same in every aspect except his shoulders didn’t have the spikes. Tied down to the man’s back was a war ax that seemed very old and very used.

“My lord, our sentries say they are preparing catapults and trebuchets in the back,” Gerte, the second man said, “In my opinion we take them now while their focused on that.”

“Why do you think we should have to attack when their full attention is not on us?” asked the Lord. “Are you worried that we can’t handle them, so we should cut them at the knees with their backs turned?”

“No, my Lord Garenth,” Gerte said in an apologizing tone. “I’m just saying that we should attack now and not lose as many soldiers as we would if we were to attack them with their full focus upon us.”

“Yartha!” Garenth shouted, “Retrieve my blade!”

A young boy of about twelve came running up. He wasn’t wearing armor, only fur clothing. He was struggling as a dragged a blade half his size across the ground. Garenth bent down and pat the boy on the head and then took the sword from him.

The sword was sheathed in a leather case, the blade had a flat tip making the blade itself a long rectangle, and when Garenth pulled it free of the case red inscriptions were clearly seen written along the flat of the blade.

“Gerte, sound the horn and let’s get this over with,” Garenth said and tied the leather sheath to his back.

Gerte lifted a horn that was strapped to his right leg. He put it to his lips and took a deep breath, then blew with all the power of his lungs. The soldier drew their weapons than ran forward towards their waiting enemies. The opposing army, unprepared, drew shield and weapons. From the back, the few catapults that were ready launched off large boulders and some pots of burning oil.

The two armies met with the sound of clashing swords to metal, the crashing sound of boulders, and the screams of dying men rang throughout the field. Garenth thrust his sword through bodies of armor as if he were cutting through water. Gerte was ganged by a legion of men and stabbed one by one. A person in the cleanest silver armor, Garenth had ever seen jumped in front of him.

The warrior held a basic sword in her right hand and an ax in the left. She thrust forward swing the ax downwards. Garenth blocked it and grabbed the opposing warrior’s sword as she tried to stab it into his chest. With his strength he snapped the blade in half and threw it to the ground and the warrior jumped back. She took the ax with both hands and tried once more for an attack, swinging the ax horizontally. Garenth twist his sword up cutting the head off the ax and grabbed the female warrior by the throat.

He threw her to the ground and looking to see his victim, he pulled her helmet off. A beautiful young girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes was revealed. Garenth stared into her eyes; he felt the need to stop the fight between the two armies.

“Sno?” Garenth asked and took off his helmet, she smiled and started to cry at the sight of her father.


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