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Old 02-07-2010, 10:04 AM
Negthareas Negthareas is offline
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I worked on this last night - It is a little long.

CHAPTER 1

"So, in the 52nd year of King Yaruvi's reign," said the hermit "that the Lathrem struck. They stormed the city of Yerathu, killing hundreds of innocents Ranoy, and many of the kings of the Ranoy. But Yaruvi stood firm. Though unused to warfare, he and his servants defended the royal palace against the Lathrem, and their servants the Blothres. So many blothres were killed, actually, that mounds of them piled up at the base of the hill that the palace was built on. After holding off the Lathrem for three days, Yaruvi was rescued. Leading a force of fifty thousand Radeli, came Negthareas and Nolend the Elendars. They drove the Lathrem from the now-ruined city of Yerathu, and scattered them to the four corners of Lanthesvan." The hermit thought to himself for a while, and then said "Yes, that is how it happened."
"Then you were there?" asked the boy in front of him, surprised and eager at the same time.
"No, of course not," the old man responded. "Do I look like I am 500 years old?" the man, bent double with age, chuckled to himself. "No, I am nowhere near that old. Even so, I imagine that when you reach my current age, Dithno, you will look much older than I presently do." the man stopped and thought for a moment, then glanced at the hourglass. "Praise Anuvan and the fourteen deities! Why didn't you tell me it was already this far into the night? You know I promised your parents to send you back before nightfall. Now go, get out of here." The man muttered a little to himself, as Dithno, sighing, collected a few books, a quill, and a couple tablets.
After peeking out at the rugged mountainside, Dithno returned to his tutor, saying "My, it seems quite cold and windy tonight. I will most probably freeze on the way down. No one will ever know what happened to poor Dithno. Young Dithno. Innocent Dithno. Handsome Dithno..."
Here the old man cut him off "Fine, fine, you can take a horn of my wine with you - mind you, don't drink it all at once, and don't let your parents know I gave it to you - it is strictly for keeping you warm inside, understand?" the Old Hermit on the Mountain, as the people of Lembanith called him, gazed sternly at his fourteen year old pupil. "That is not ale, it is much stronger - the last time I gave it to you, you ended up stumbling into your neighbors home singing love songs to his daughter! I expect you to be more responsible this time. Do you hear me?" the man raised a finger menacingly, but Dithno only laughed.
"Ha - you know as well as I that you would never harm a fly, and that I only use your wine as an excuse to sing love songs to Loritha - ah, she is soo beautiful - the chance was worth the whipping father gave me afterward." "Well, whatever," the hermit replied "Now get out or else, I'll...I'll...I'll never tell you any more concerning the battles of the First War." The hermit had barely finished his sentence before the door slammed shut. He chuckled. Anyone would call his bluff when he threatened physical harm, but at least Dithno knew that he kept his academic word to smallest syllable. The door creaked open, and Dithno's head appeared around its edge.
"Master, sir," he said "do you think my father will be alright?" Dithno looked very worried, and the hermit knew he should answer the question carefully. Dithno had climbed to the hermit's home the previous night, crying to himself. His parents had argued horribly with each other over the war. The Sayenk Empire, seeking further expansion on the Thas continent had invaded Tervenian the year before. Now they had invaded Iregand. General Umoyas Yagin had summoned all militia, including Dithno's father. Dithno's mother had tried to convince him not to go, and their conversation had quickly escalated into an arguement. Dithno's father, with his spear, sword, shield, and helm, had left. Dithno, unable to find comfort in his weeping mother, had come to him, his teacher, for comfort.
"Dithno, I cannot say how the battle will go. General Umoyas and Lagine Yagin seem very confident in their chances of success. Try not to worry about your father. Think of how he may come home as a hero, having slain at least twenty men single-handedly. But, if things go worst, be strong - for your mother. You may have to be the man of the home."
Dithno shook a little, then said "Thank you sir, have a good night." Dithno shut the door, and the hermit pictured him in his mind's eye begin the short but dangerous trek down the side of the mountain to the village of Lembanith below.
"Protect him, O Mathriyas," he said "give him the strength he will need."

CHAPTER 2

Dithno made the steep journey down unharmed, and soon found himself safe and sound back at his cottage. He would have stopped at his neighbor's house, and spoken to Loritha at her window, but he was tired, and too worried about his father to consider anything else. He pounded a few times at his door, before his mother opened it for him. Dithno walked in, shutting the door and replacing the heavy piece of timber that locked it. His mother was red-eyed, and he could tell that she had been crying when he was away. He decided it would be best not to bring up the issue. they ate dinner in silence. It was a good soup, wiht beef, carrots, and potatoes, but the lack of conversation seemed to cool the soup's warmth and flavor. Dithno finished and went to his bed, a pile of hay with a few blankets laid on top. Thinking of his father, and what would happen to them if he died, Dithno cried himself to sleep.
Dithno sat up with a start as horrifying screams echoed in the valley. Then he heard the cries "The Sayenk, the Sayenk are coming!" People were runing past his window, carts were being overturned, children were crying aloud for their mothers. Dithno got off his bed, throwing on his shirt, and grabbing his knife. He ran into the main room. Dithno realized that the door was unbolted, and looked around for the locking beam. Then his mother opened the door, slamming it quickly shut behind her. She winded, and part of her shawl had been ripped off.
"Hurry, Dithno," She gasped, "the door...lock the door." Dithno found the beam and hefted it into place. Moments later the door shook.
"Open up in the name of Skitamil Ashimak, Emperor of the Sayenk!" the soldier outside yelled. Hearing no answer, he hefted a ax, smashing away at the door. Piece by piece, it fell apart. Dithno stood in front of his mother, knife in hand. Then she fell to the floor. "Mother!" Dithno yelled. He kneeled at her side. Her skin was pale and cold, but wet with sweat. She had no pulse. "No! Not now, not her heart!" Dithno bent over her and started pumping her upper chest with his hands crossed, crying and swearing at the same time. Then the beam, finally weakened, broke, and the Sayenk soldier knocked the door down and stepped in.
"Lithrasko mur tan gith, exa berazo tan werthol!" he said, gestering angrily at Dithno. Dithno froze, not knowing what to do. Then the soldier swung the ax down at his head. Dithno darted forward, landing between the man's legs, and stabbed his dagger up into the man's groin. The man screamed, falling down and clutching between his legs. Dithno cut his throat, and the soldier's shrieks silenced with a gurgle.
Dithno was shaking all over, and dropped his knife. He curled up under the table, not crying, but just staring out the door into the night. Then more soldiers arrived.
"Berthaf mestak gam turgal! Delagthes!" one of them shouted on seeing the dead soldier, and the pool of blood. Then he saw Dithno. "Belat nost wagiman mos!" He drew his sword and kicked over the table. Dithno, unprotected, just sat there gazing limply up at him. There were a total of three soldiers inside the room now, two on either side of the door, and the other standing in front of Dithno. Then a long staff was held through the door way, leveled out horizontally, and then pulled back against the necks of the two guards with such force that it cracked their vertabrae. The two soldiers collapsed to the ground, and the remaining one turned towards the doorway. He fell dead to the ground with a throwing blade through his left eye. Dithno flinched at the piercing yet short scream and then looked up. There by the door stood the old hermit. But he had no beard now, and he was not bent low. Beneath his cloak sheened polished armor, and he wore a quiver, bow, and shield. The hermit came in, and gathered Dithno in his arms. Taking him outside, he placed him on his horse, tying his legs down. Then he mounted and moeve the horse into a gallop.
Dithno looked back at his house, and managed to weakly say "But, what about mother? What if father returns? No one will be there to greet him."
The hermit was silent for a while, and then said "Dithno, your mother is dead. I do not know about your father, but I know he will not return here. Do not worry, I will keep you safe." The two of them galloped out of the valley. Just before they reached the crest of the hill, Dithno looked back at Lembanith. It was burning. Then the hill hid it from sight, and dawn broke.
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  #2  
Old 02-07-2010, 01:12 PM
blackfang blackfang is offline
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Ok that was awesome Tough i didnt get the start but that might be me just being stupid anyways it is just incredible
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Old 02-07-2010, 04:16 PM
Pilgrim Pilgrim is offline
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I didn't think I was going to read it all, but I did gj
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Old 02-07-2010, 06:38 PM
Kire Kire is offline
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Good beginning, nice to have so many talented writers here =). But must also say i had problem with start too, because too many strange and unknown names =P.
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Old 02-07-2010, 06:56 PM
Negthareas Negthareas is offline
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Yeah, I guess the beginning was a little hard... I did not really expect anyone to get it. More like - providing a little fragment of history. This story is basically within the timeperiod of the story I submitted for the Battle Beta Key Competition. That should help a little reference wise.
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Old 02-08-2010, 03:31 AM
blackfang blackfang is offline
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well that was kinda like how i wanted with my story but i messed it up terribly, so i gotta be on top of the world the next time i write, that means not today probably not when i have all this homework. But just continue i love em
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Old 02-13-2010, 02:21 PM
Negthareas Negthareas is offline
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I will probably be posting chapters 3 + 4 tonight or tomorrow morning.
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Old 02-14-2010, 06:10 AM
blackfang blackfang is offline
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oww you get so much done, i am sick right now so i cant do anything and i always wish to but i just cant since i got no idea how to continue or anything. We will see what i can do. Pray to god that i will get the will to do it
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Old 02-14-2010, 06:01 PM
Negthareas Negthareas is offline
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Not really, it has been a whole week.
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Old 02-16-2010, 08:58 PM
Negthareas Negthareas is offline
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This is my next set of chapters - I think it might be a little confusing, but I think I explained in the story.

CHAPTER 3

They rode long and hard for the entire day, stopping only for a quick rest by a stream. Once the first star appeared in the evening sky, they stopped for the night. The hermit setup a tent, and layed out blankets.
“Aren’t you going to build a fire?” Dithno asked.
“No,” he replied. “I don’t want to do anything that would attract unnecessary attention. A fire would reveal us to the eyes of anyone within 15 leagues.”
“Oh,” Dithno said, tired from the incessant rise and fall of the horse. He perked up when the man offered him food, however.
“It is not warm, but it will keep your stomach full,” he said, handing Dithno a large piece of dried venison and a hunk of bread. Dithno took the food, and sat on the ground, his back to a stump. The hermit sat next to him, and looked up at the stars.
“Who are you?” asked Dithno while chewing.
“Who am I?” the man said. “Well, I have been many things – teacher, warrior, ruler, and, yes, even a hermit.” Dithno stared at the man hard, as if not believing him.
“Then, how old are you?”
“Old? No, I am not an old man, but I am not young either.” The man thought to himself for a moment. “In fact, I am no age at all. But I am very very old.” Dithno looked puzzled. The man laughed.
“Dithno,” he said. “I am a Radeli.” Dithno was silent for a long time.
“So you have been on Lanthesvan from the beginning?” he eventually asked.
“No, not from the beginning,” replied the man. “Don’t you remember what I taught you about how the Radeli came to be?”
“Yes – I do,” said Dithno. “When Lanthesvan had been formed, and after the uncountable plants and animals had been scattered across its surface, the god Anuvan planned to create the Ranoy. But the deity Delagthes was jealous of Anuvan’s power. Delagthes was the greatest among the deities, subject only to Anuvan. Delagthes felt that he had waited long enough to create, for he had seen most of his lesser brothers create Lanthesvan together, while he, the great sun, and the two moons did nothing. Eventually, Nesir, the Silver Moon, was tasked with creating the Radeli. He created them as servants for the future Ranoy. But Delagthes strove against Anuvan, ensnaring many of the Radeli in his evil plans. They became known as the Lathrem. Delagthes sent the Lathrem to destroy Lanthesvan, so that Anuvan’s plan might be thwarted.”
“But Nesir sent the remaining Radeli as protectors of Lanthesvan, and they fought the Lathrem for centuries upon Lanthesvan, protecting it for the future Ranoy.”
“Yes,” said the Radeli “that is how we came to be, for the most part. I have fought and killed many Lathrem, but even so they come back. Divested of their bodies, their spirits wander Lanthesvan, until they find Ranoy that are evil. Then they corrupt the will of those Ranoy until they control them completely. These are the Blothres, the untiring servants of the Lathrem. They are no longer Ranoy, merely Lathrem with bodies of Ranoy. I have killed many Blothres as well. However, the Lathrem, though powerful, are not as powerful as the Radeli, for we have Anuvan, Light itself, to guide and strengthen us. They have only the Sun, Delagthes, who turned his back on the Light long ago.”
“I have never told you my name, Dithno. Indeed, you have never asked it. And why should you – I was just the hermit on the mountain. I will tell you it now – I am Ragertholimenshathropad, but you may call me Shathro.” Dithno looked at the Radeli with confused, tired eyes.
“I see you are sleepy,” said Sathro “and you have every right to be. Go on and get some rest, I will wake you in the morning.” Dithno watched Shathro for a while as he looked at the stars, before he fell into a deep peaceful slumber. His dreams were peaceful, and during their whole course, Dithno felt a light shining from behind him, lightening up the way he should take.

CHAPTER 4

Dithno woke with when Shathro placed his hand on his shoulder. The boy felt refreshed and ready for the new day. Then he realized that he was in the woods with a stranger he had at one point known, his home was burnt, his mother was dead, and he had no clue where his father was. Dithno broke down and wept.
Shathro comforted him, but did not try to make him cheerful or happy.
“Go ahead and weep, Dithno.” He said “Sorrow has a place in this world.” Half an hour later, they had breakfast. Dithno did not want to eat, but Shathro encouraged him to.
“You need to keep your strength up – we have a long way to go today.” At this Dithno looked up sharply.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“I am bringing you to Irian. The Irian army should be there, and hopefully your father as well.” Dithno brightened up at this prospect, and chewed a bit more enthusiastically on his jerky. They finished eating quickly, and were soon back on the horse. Dithno sat behind Shathro, whose black hair blew in the wind. They made good progress as they traveled northward, deeper into Iregand.
It was nearing nightfall, and Shathro was looking for a place to camp, when he heard hooves on the ground behind them. He turned and saw 8 soldiers urging their horses on, trying to catch up to them.
“In the name of the Sayenk Empire, stop or be killed!” the leader shouted. Shathro did not stop, instead pushing the horse to its limits, galloping thunderously across the open fields. Then the leader raised a horn to his lips, sounding a blast that echoed in the valley they were riding through. This valley ended in a narrow defile, where 8 other Sayenk riders now appeared. Shathro was trapped, and with him Dithno.
“Shathro, what are we going to do?” Dithno asked, drawing his dagger.
“Don’t worry, Dithno” Shathro replied “Just do two things – keep your eyes shut. You must keep them shut. And do not breath when I say so. Do you understand?” They were a few hundred feet from the chasing riders now, but only a hundred from the others, several of whom had drawn arrows to bows, ready to fire. Shathro stopped the horse and dismounted. The riders approached now from both sides, ready to cut Shathro to ribbons if he fought.
“Surrender or die!” the leader said from fifty feet away. Shathro looked at them all, his eyes shining.
“I will not, but I will give you all a chance to do so.” The soldiers laughed, and their leader rode at Shathro with a spear held high.
“Cover your eyes; hold your breath.” Shathro said. Dithno did as told.

Then there was a hissing and a crack. Half of the man’s body lay scattered across the ground, his horse was gone, and meteorites began to pound the ground all around Shathro. Some of the soldiers hesitated, and died, furrows and shallow pits marking where their horses had stood. The thick stench of sulfur and burning, boiling flesh filled the night air. The other soldiers were blinded by the smoke, and their horses careened wildily about. The air was filled with sounds of their screaming as they rubbed at their eyes, and coughed. One of the soldiers cracked his head on a branch, spilling grey ooze and blood upon the grass. Only one soldier made it out of the smoke alive, but he fell to the ground soon after, coughing up phlegm and blood. With a large retch, his aorta ruptured, spurting blood all around for yards. He was dead within a few seconds.

There was silence, and a breeze blew the acrid smoke away. Dithno burst out of his silences heaving for air. It had been two minutes.
“Don’t worry Dithno,” Said Shathro. “You are safe. Come we, we should move on, the air is still unwholesome here.” Dithno looked at Shathro, half in fright, half in awe, then mounted the steadfast horse. Shathro mounted after him, and they traveled all the way through the night, settling down for a rest as the sun rose.
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