N-Drop (A work in progress)

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N-Drop (A work in progress)

Post by KyZin on Sun Mar 09, 2014 1:27 pm

This story isn't finished yet but I thought I could post some of what I do have and see what kind of reactions or feedback I would get. I'm going to post the preview after this so if need to I can later edit this post with a better intro or links to specific posts or whatever else might seem like a good idea later.
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KyZin

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Re: N-Drop (A work in progress)

Post by KyZin on Sun Mar 09, 2014 1:30 pm

Chapter 1 – A crash course
We begin our story viewing an ancient castle hallway dimly lit by what sunlight filters through the myriad holes and cracks in the ceiling and wall. Lying in this hall is a fairly average looking male with brown hair, a fairly typical t-shirt, simple jeans and the pale skin of one that doesn't get out much.

The figure began to stir and then let out a very tired and heartfelt groan as he blearily raised his head to take in his surroundings.

“Ok,” said the figure “I’m pretty sure this isn't my room.” The figure let their head come back down and rolled over. “All right so I've found myself in a…” the figure looked around again “some kind of hallway made of stone. I feel like I just got worked over by a gang of wolves…well not overly vicious ones anyway and I don’t know how I got here.”

The figure rested there for a minute “I should probably poke around and see if there’s some clues but if I know my narrative something bad is going to happen once I do.”

As if a narrative truly existed and in fact didn't like the resting figure a second figure casually walked around the corner at this time while whistling a cheery if meaningless song. Both of them caught sight of each other at the same time. The first figure definitely had it worse as the second figure was dressed like someone at a funeral…his own funeral. In fact the second figure was a most unpleasant shade of grey with patches of green and was definitely missing bits of skin you think someone would notice.

To this view the first figure did the only thing he felt was appropriate. He screamed. In response the decaying second figure also started screaming. After a few minutes as the screaming was starting to calm down the first figure jumped to his feet and began legging it in the opposite direction of the decaying figure.

“Oh man it’s a freaking zombie,” he moaned to himself as he ran like he never ran before. “I’m trapped in some kind of horror story I’m going to die, probably in an as bloody as possible way”.

Meanwhile where he was suddenly left alone the zombie was standing in semi shocked silence. Then he came to. “Oh hey, wait, don’t go running off like that in the castle,” he said as he began giving spirited if not speedy chase to the fleeing figure “some parts of the castle are dangerous.”

“Ok I think I can stop here” gasped the fleeing figure. “Just going to get my bearings and….” His gasping monolog was broken as he looked up to see two interested faces looking at him from an open doorway. Now this wouldn't have been that bad but they shared a common theme. They looked like normal people who have had a very bad day, so bad in fact that they had died, from a particularly vicious mauling.

Him being way too far gone to care anymore about screaming the fleeing figure began fleeing in earnest again sounding like a poorly run steam train the whole way.

“Man I thought I’d finally catch up,” said the dismayed zombie.

“Oh hey Mitch, what’s all the hullabaloo about?” said one of the two zombies who had just watched the curious sight to the arriving zombie.

“I don’t really know myself I was doing my normal rounds and then I found a living human on the floor,” Said Mitch.

“Well if he keeps running that way he’ll fetch up against the sealed door,” said the second curious face.

“Oh man I should really catch up with him then. I hear Morken has been in a really foul mood lately,” said Mitch as he began his chase ounce again.

“Hey Clarence,” said one of the two on watchers “you think we should help chase the guy down? I don’t fancy Morken being riled up either”

“We can round up some of the gang as we go,” said Clarence as he and his fellow zombie began to follow along behind Mitch.

“Can’t…go…any…further…lungs…on…fire,” gasped the fleeing human. As he desperately tried to suck air into his lungs he turned to look at where he had fled from which reveled not just the zombie that had originally been chasing him but a whole hoard of other ones. “Well lungs looks like it’s either you or the rest of me. I think you lost lungs, sorry about that,” he thought to himself as he began running like only a person who can see his certain doom lurching behind him can.

The running figure stopped as he reached a dead end dominated by a large door seemingly made of solid gold with many stylized engravings of plants and birds and other pretty things which was very much at odds with the decay of the rest of the halls. As he tried to force air into his extremely upset lungs he thought to himself “Well those doors are not 50 different degrees of foreboding. I’d have to be an idiot to try to open those things.” At this time a shuffling sound that wouldn't bet that noticeable except there were dozens of them making as they lurched after him came to his ear.

“So my options are certain death by zombie or possible death by whatever is behind the door, “the fleeing figure thought to himself “well fifty fifty odds seems better than hundred so let’s do this.” He pushed at the doors with all his strength which caused him to stumble as the doors opened as if they weighed a feather at his touch.

“Heavy doors that open easily are never a good sign but seeing as my other option is being a zombie snack….” He thought to himself as he passed through the doors. The inside of the room besides being heavily covered in dust seemed out of place merely because it didn’t seem to be in much disrepair. However what really stuck out was a weapon rack with a pair of finely crafted short swords who seemed to give off a light of their own and a armor stand near the rack with extremely well-wrought if plain full plate armor.

“You know I bet those zombies are still hungry so I’m just going to, “his thought and action were interrupted by the doors snapping shut behind him leaving him in complete darkness. “Well at least it can’t get worse, I’m merely trapped in a room with extremely ominous doors, zombies outside and extremely suspicious looking weapons and armor in a room that’s pitch black,” he sarcastically thought to himself.

The trapped figure began groping slowly forward in the darkness. “Ok, don’t panic maybe there’s another door or something,” he thought to himself. One of his hands came to rest on something metal and suddenly his eyes were stung by a flash of light. The figure stumbles back after being blinded and lands on his back as a voice monotonously asks him “So you’re the one that woke us?”

“What? Who? I know I didn't see anyone else in here,” said the blinded figure as his eyes readjusted to the new light which seemed to be emanating from one of the two swords from the rack. “This does not bode well,” said a voice that sounded like it was coming from next to the figure. He turned his head and say to his astonishment what looked like a upper figure of a man with roiling ghostly flames surrounding him like a cloak, short black hair, a simple jacket with a white undershirt and a set of thick seemingly non transparent glasses who seemed to be floating on his shoulder.

In a slow steady voice so he wouldn't go screaming and running blindly again the figure said “So uh when did you get here?”

The fire cloaked man stared at the figure for a while till the figure began to get more nervous before finally speaking “I was here before you entered the door. I am the spirit bound to the sword you’re holding. I would like it if you woke the other one up too.”

“Wait you mean you’re the sword?” asked the slightly overwhelmed figure.

“Yes,” Said the burning spirit.

“Uh, so what’s going to happen when I wake the other one?” asked the beginning to stand figure. The burning spirit seemed disinclined to answer however. “Well, here goes something,” said the already regretting if figure as he reached out to take the second sword, taking great care to cover his eyes this time.

“So what did I miss? I feel like I was sleeping for ages?” said the upper figure of a woman with white bird like wings, a black set of chain mail, and with a perpetually wide grin you’d normally associate with wolves if they could smile.

“Is this the part where you guys kill me or attempt to lure me into a false sense of security before you start stealing my body?” asked the extremely unnerved figure.

Both of the spirits looked at the figure but where it would probably be impossible to know what the burning one was thinking it was obvious to anyone with eyes that the winged one that the asker was an idiot. “You’re the one we have to work for now?” exclaimed the winged spirit “You’re worse than the freaking paladin at least he wasn't an incompetent idiot.”
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KyZin

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