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Fiction Dawnflame - My first novel inspired by Pathfinder Character

Discussion in 'Fluff and Stories' started by Lizards of Renown, Jan 18, 2021.

  1. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Hi everyone.

    So, doing several of the short story competitions has whet my appetite for writing (something which I genuinely never thought would get rehabilitated) and so I have started a novel based on a character I came up with on the Pathfinder-ish Campaign thread in the Miscellaneous, General Hobby/Tabletop Chat section of the forum.

    Thanks to @Tk'ya'pyk for that one.

    I'll post it by chapter as I go.

    Best, LoR
     
  2. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Prologue


    The silence was deafening. Broken only by the dripping of blood from his crouched form.

    He pulled at the chains holding him on his knees, his eyes blind to the scene of carnage around him. The chamber still smelt of the blood of the dozens of bodies littering the floor and his own burned flesh.

    His master, his teacher, his father stood above him, revulsion in his eyes.

    “You are a blasphemy.”

    The sword swung down.
     
  3. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter One


    3 days earlier…

    Shiro sat on the crenellations at the top of the keep of the Eternal Order and watched the sun rise.

    He couldn’t say what drew him here each morning. The bracing air, rushing past him as he sat with legs dangling over a drop of thousands of feet? Maybe. The patchwork of the valley spread before him? No. Although there was a beauty in the pattern made by the many villages and farming communities that supported the keep, their multi-coloured fields making a kaleidoscope of colour. It was probably the idea of rebirth. The flaming orb of the sun coming over the horizon each day, rising up from the darkness with purpose reignited to blaze it’s trail across the land.

    Shiro smiled to himself. There was something of a poet within him, not just a scholar.

    Standing he let the first rays of sun bathe his body. Closing his green eyes, he stretched his arms out above him. He had grown fast as a child, but had been lanky and was only now filling out his six-foot frame. Even the daily hand-to-hand combat and weapons training hadn’t made any real difference until his fourteenth birthday and only now, at sixteen, did he finally feel like he was becoming a man.

    Straightening his body, he extended his arms to the sides and raised one knee slowly to his chest. The Crane position was one for developing balance and as he kept the position he felt the normal inner peace descend upon him. He held the position as long as he could and then flipped his body forwards into a handstand.

    Straining to keep his balance, his fingers holding the edge of the wall, he held the position for as long as he could, then fell back onto the walkway.

    Master Shen would be proud, that was his longest yet! Even though he would be scolded for doing it in a dangerous position. With one last look over towards the sun, he gathered his belongings and scampered down the stairs of the tower heading towards his lessons, remembering as he did so the last time he had been scolded…

    “You cannot endanger yourself, Shiro!” Master Shen stood his with hands on his hips staring down at Shiro, the shimmering golden presence of Ullata weaving around his frame. “You must realise your importance to the world! Your responsi-“ Master Shen cut off suddenly as the Law Elemental gathered itself into a glowing ball, face forming within the gaseous form. Ullata never spoke to Shiro, but evidently did to Master Shen. Head still bowed in a proper show of deference, Shiro peered upwards as Master Shen seemed to stare at the elemental for a 10 count before bowing slightly and responding to an unspoken communication. “Yes Ullata, you are correct of course.”

    Master Shen sighed “Come here my son.” Shiro smiled and skipped over. Master Shen, his father… embraced him. “You have to be careful, dawn-flame!” Shiro knew he was safe if his father was using his nickname “It would break me if anything happened to you. At least wait until you are able to bond with one of the Law Elementals, this will keep you safe from harm.” Shiro nodded into his fathers robes as he felt his hair ruffled.

    Stepping back, Shiro found himself face to face with Ullata. He stiffened. Whenever he came face to face with one of the Law Elementals, every childhood fear came back to him. Stories of ghosts, evil spirits, demons that come to steal your soul. It didn’t help that the being never spoke. It undulated before him, a golden cloud that always drifted near Master Shen.

    “Ullata says you have great potential, my son. He sees a pure soul worthy of bonding a Law Elemental and bringing justice to the land.”

    Ullata undulated a few moments more and then withdrew, seeming to almost disappear into his father apart from a slight glow that came off his huge figure.

    His fathers big hand patted him on the shoulder and he looked down into Shiro’s eyes.

    “You will do well, my son.”

    Blinking himself out of his reverie, Shiro raced ahead. Master Shen had said something about a final test and Shiro loved tests.
     
  4. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter Two


    Shiro’s practised feet found easy purchase on the well worn stone stairs as he engaged in one of his favourite sports: speeded descent from the battlements.

    Hurling himself down the next flight of stairs, he only just missed an elderly matron coming out of her rooms by virtue of grabbing a iron support ring in the opposite wall and using this to pull his body to the side as he missed her by a hairs breadth.

    Her angry voice followed him down the stairs, but he had no attention for her as he kept close track of the seconds that had elapsed; this was surely his best run yet!

    36, 37, 38…

    Running down a long corridor, he glimpsed out of the corner of his eyes the new dawn. Every six paces stood an archer’s kill slot, it’s narrow slit gave flashes of the golden orb that was the sun rising over the far cliffs of the Valley of Justice casting it’s golden hue over the land.

    Distracted slightly, he became aware of the large group of soldiers coming around the corner later than he would have usually and had no chance to avoid them or slow down.

    In the seconds before impact, the guards eyes all widening as one as their shock came to them slightly too late as well, Shiro concentrated.

    Time slowed.

    He knew time had not actually slowed, but he enjoyed the Illusion as he did every time he flooded his system with adrenaline. Focusing his willpower he bent his knees and jumped just before he got to the guards, thrusting his will against the floor. If anyone had been watching extremely closely, they may have seen a grey mist extend out briefly from his feet and snap back into his body.

    He sailed over the almost comical expressions of the guards. As he completed the somersault, he could see their slowed expressions turning from shock to anger. Hmmmmm….. Was that Fujima?

    As he landed, his attention on the guards, he inadvertently lost control of his adrenals and the world snapped back into “normal time.” Although, in truth, only 1 second had elapsed.

    He had almost rounded the corner ahead when Fujima’s angry voice echoed down the corridor towards him, “SHIROOOO!!! I WILL REMOVE YOUR HIDE! MASTER’S SON OR NO!!!!!!”

    Shiro smiled. Promises, promises…..

    Reaching the main staircase, he realised he was going to make it. He was going to beat his best time! He exploded into the main hall and could see the keep’s entrance ahead.

    54, 55, 56….

    Dodging through startled petitioners, dressed in their finest robes awaiting an audience with the Chief Justice, sliding around warriors striding forcefully through the throng with the sunburst symbol of dawn on their chest and vaulting a diminutive emissary of Earth, he was mere feet from the door when all light was cut off from it as a massive shape hoved into view. The glint of light off a metallic sheen made his eyes widen and a spike of panic drove through him.

    There was nothing he could do about his momentum. In the final seconds before impact, he focused his energy and projected it outward from the front of his body. When done by an Elemental-Bound, it could stop any blow, shield from any force. With just his own life force… This was going to hurt.

    Pain. Motion. Sliding. Stopped.

    Shiro lay on the floor for a minute. As the adrenaline from his hurried flight down e castle receded, the pain from the impact rose through his body. Groaning, he pushed himself up to his hands and knees.

    “Such confidence, Law-ling. You must be more careful.” The guttural voice dripped with insincerity, the deep tones reverberating slightly with a faint echo. Even if he hadn’t known by the solid surface he had impacted against, the voice would have given it away immediately.

    Shiro got to his feet and looked up as the few passers-by who had stopped to see if he was unhurt, hurriedly found excuses to leave.

    Of all the people who could have prevented his record run from being achieved, this was the most poetically correct.

    The emissary from the Metal Elementals towered over him, easily seven feet tall and twice as wide as an average man. As always, and despite his innate dislike of the man, he marvelled at the beauty of the metallic armour encasing his form. A seamless, reddish metal covered his already huge physique. The metal form was angular, geometrically perfect with countless facets covering the man from head to toe. Due to the hundreds, if not thousands, of surfaces on the armour any light source made it glitter with rainbow-like emanations.

    More accurately, this was no armour but a manifestation of those who were Metal-Bound. As the stories told, once a Metal Acolyte bonded one of these elementals the armour grew from them like a second skin. Supposedly, this could be summoned or dismissed at will, but Shiro had never seen one without the armour. As he watched, the metal skin retracted from the head of the man and a ripple passed down the entire armour, leaving a cruel face with a hooked nose and piercing blue eyes. A large visage swirled into view on the chest of he armour and was gone. Shiro shuddered, the appearance of the Metal Elemental on any face of the armour was easily the worst part.

    “Well, Law-ling,” the deep voice no longer slightly echoed but even just the oily tone of the voice caused Shiro to bristle, let alone the use of the derogatory nickname, “you should run along now. I’m sure there is important justice for you to dispense.” Emissary Ku’Lar’s lip curled up as he spoke.

    The man was an important figure and knew it. The Metal-Bound supplied the weapons the Eternal Order used and were the only ones who knew how to forge those that could then channel the elementals energy through the blade itself. An alliance, or the closest thing to this, existed between the two elemental groups. Ku’Lar knew his value and used it to the hilt whenever possible to deride or mock those who were Law-Bound.

    Shiro ignored the jibe and strode around the man. Since Ku’Lar did not move an inch, it took four steps to get around him and his deep chuckle followed him as he left the keep.

    Striding towards the practice grounds, Shiro tried to regain the sense of peace he had gotten from the vision of dawn-break but it was impossible. Ku’Lar knew how to get under his skin like no other and Shiro privately believed that the Metal-Bound exchanged their hearts for a cold lump of rusted iron.

    As he drew nearer the practice field, the familiar sights of the obstacle course, Trials and exercise grounds did what the dawn could not: Bring out his competitive streak.

    Shiro smiled. A test? I’ll prove myself to everyone and then even Ku’Lar will have to think twice about mocking me.
     
  5. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter Three

    Shiro strode confidently into the practice grounds, responding to the greetings from several other acolytes who were already there training.

    The golden sand stretched out in front of him in a huge bowl, surrounded by an amphitheatre designed to allow spectators to various events and rites of passage. Since the arena hosted various sporting matches and challenges by combat there were thousands of seats stretching up and back to the left, center and right, stretching hundreds of feet into the air. The designers had been clever and all those seated to watch the events would have the formidable backdrop of the Eternal Order’s keep behind the event they were watching, as if the fortress itself stood in judgement.

    Although the arena seemed incongruous with the Order’s purpose to bring justice to the land, it fit with their secondary activities. It was widely known that to have a wholly impartial judge for an event required one of the Law-Bound to officiate so even though the Order did do it’s rites of passage and awards ceremonies in the arena, for the most part it enabled the Order to act as judges with little wasted time when called upon by citizens or by another Elemental Order. A Cralath match had been held with the champions from two nearby regions only last week and some of the balls for the sport still remained at the sides, the blade-studded bolas gleaming in the sunlight.

    The seats stood empty above them now, for no contests or rites were due. Instead the arena floor was sparsely populated with acolytes being put through their training. Each a trainee was paired with a veteran of the order, a full Law-Bound teaching and drilling them for when they too would be Bound.

    As he watched, two of the trainees tried to master Shielding much like Shiro had used on the staircase. Shiro snorted, he had mastered that within the first couple of weeks as well as Augmenting to jump or run faster. He hoped today his father would deem him sufficient in Extension which was the key combat ability that needed to be mastered.

    Spotting his father near the middle, he ran over and bowed at the edge of the designated combat circle. His father as always greeted him formally, displaying no emotion towards his son and his somber visage was mirrored in Ullata’s misty form.

    Master Shen (for at times like this Shiro couldn’t even imagine calling him his father) clapped his hands twice and Shiro instinctively dropped into combat stance. The Eternal Order favoured the Air system of combat, preferring lightly armoured, fast and fluid combat over heavy infantry, solid battle lines and ranked troops. This meant that when a threat to the Alliance of Elements arose, an army was always a group endeavour with the Eternal Order providing Skirmishers, scouts and commando troops.

    Master Shen also dropped into combat stance, the misty form of Ullata seemingly drawn into his body as lungs draw breath. In an instant, his father softly glowed with an inner light and his eyes turned an unbroken white.

    Shiro lunged forwards. Letting his instincts guide him, he sent a flurry of blows towards the Master’s head, each blow precisely extended with his will as he had been taught. Each blow that extended flickered out at a supernatural speed and as each limb extended his practiced focus covered and elongated his arm with his own willpower. Even without an elemental, an acolyte of the eternal order was more than a match for any opponent, given that his Extended blows could easily crush metal let alone bone.

    None of the attacks landed.

    If Shiro’s speed was supernatural, then his father moved like a god. His golden form slipped unconcernedly past each of his best efforts, his speed so fast it was almost as if he knew exactly where Shiro was going to strike. Despite his best efforts, Shiro hit nothing but air, receiving in return hard taps on the head where his father flickered forwards to easily strike him.

    A growl escaped Shiro’s lips. This must be the test! And he was failing! His natural pride and stubbornness welled up within him as he determined he would not let it end this way. Feigning fatigue, he slowed the speed of his blows slightly and dropped his shoulders as if struggling to breathe. Stumbling slightly, he took one step back as if to catch himself and a sudden flash of insight felt exactly where the Master would be. With a last effort, he threw out a blow purely following instinct.

    And found the Master’s shoulder.

    The fact that he had finally made contact with him made him freeze and he found that the master had frozen as well, a considering look on his face. His glow faded and his eyes returned to their normal colour as Ullata rose from his father’s body and confronted him also.

    His father smiled. “I had a feeling that this would happen today.” Ullata turned to regard the Master and then merged with him again, disappearing from view. “We both think you are ready now.”

    Shiro’s pulse quickened. He licked his lips and tried to contain his excitement. There had been hints for weeks that his Bounding time was near. Could this be it? Schooling his voice to calmness, he asked “For what Master?”

    His Father, his Master, smiled. “I know what you are thinking, my son. And you are correct. There is but one task remaining and then you will be Bound. Ullata informs me that you have caught the attention of a Law Elemental already! Vorva is ready to cross over from their plane once you are done.”

    The Master dusted himself off and picked up his long staff, the sword blade at end catching the sun’s rays and sparkling. He started walking towards the entrance with Shiro bobbing at his side like an excited puppy.

    “But what does this mean father?” Shiro couldn’t remember being this happy before. Praise was rare from his father, meaning even a slight compliment was cause for celebration.

    Master Shen smiled again. “You will join a war party that is setting out this afternoon. One of the surrounding villages has reported a cabal of some daemon worshipping cult in their area and you will help them purge the place.” A strange look flickered across his face as he said this, vanishing so quickly that Shiro almost thought he imagined it. Could that have been... Fear?
     
    Last edited: Apr 15, 2021
  6. Sudsinabucket
    Skar-Veteran

    Sudsinabucket Well-Known Member

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    This caught my eye for obvious reasons, very exciting to read about Shiro!

    Read through it once so far, really love it. Keeping my attention, which can be really hard to do in regards to reading. I'm going to read it again, I'm hoping tomorrow, are the Eternal order and Law-Elementals your own lore or is it a Pathfinder official thing? I know so little of Pathfinder
     
  7. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Thanks mate!

    To be honest, I know very little about Pathfinder as well :oops:

    The story is all my idea. :D
     
  8. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter 4

    Shiro followed Hiroto closely as they made their way deeper into the mines. The dark confines of the rocky tunnels only served to fuel his imagination that they were descending into the Chaos Planes themselves. He shuddered.

    The had arrived at the village with a force of guards from the Eternal Order, Hiroto at their head. As a Law-Bound veteran, he was highly respected in all of the villages near the keep and commanded the attention of the village counsel who gave him directions to where the cult had been spotted. Thanks to the specialist trackers working as part of the guard, a trail had been found which led deeper into nearby woods and thence into the hillside of an abandoned mine.

    The mine itself had been for coal and soot was everywhere, blackening the walls and floors to the point where the guttering flames of their torches seemed to be absorbed into a void surrounding them all.

    Shiro glanced again back at the guard members and was reassured. Each of the guard were veterans, their normal troops never being used for these kind of missions for exactly this reason. They were solid, dependable and most of all calm in the face of adversity. Shiro breathed out, it was reassuring to know that it was only him that was feeling the nerves.

    The tunnel seemed to go on forever. As he watched, Ach’la rose from the shoulders of Hiroto and the two seemed to exchange thoughts before Hiroto raised his hand and motioned them deeper.

    Before he realized it, they were in a large space. The tunnel had opened into what had evidently been a coal pocket which had been mined out. Multiple levels rose upwards around them, with tunnel openings on each level as the miners had worked their way down through the seam.

    Hiroto paused. Shiro had been following him so closely that he bumped into his back and almost fell over. Hiroto’s face seemed slightly strained. “Hiroto?” Shiro whispered, “Is everything okay?” The veteran turned back to him, gazing at him for a second before shaking his head. “I’m sorry Shiro, I thought I felt... something. But it must have been my imagination. Ach’la doesn’t sense anything.”

    Hiroto smiled at him. In all the years to come, Shiro would look back at this moment as a defining point in his life. Not the result of this moment, not the consequences that followed. Just this moment. Standing in front of a good man trying to bring justice to the world.

    And falling into darkness.

    Hiroto smiled. Shiro felt a tug on his ear and suddenly his vision was eclipsed in red.

    Screams erupted around him as the silent void erupted into cacophonic chaos. Shiro frantically scrubbed at his eyes to clear them as the clash of metal on metal and the screams of the dying assaulted his ears. Panic set in as the sudden noises drove him on in a blind furor.

    Finally clearing his eyes, Shiro found himself staring down into the face of Hiroto, whose face still smiled in death despite a large crossbow bolt protruding from what was left of his head.

    Shiro gagged. The sudden proximity to death and violence caused a wave of nausea to well up inside him. Forgetting even to grieve, he stumbled back from the body as he retched his morning’s meal up.

    Panting, Shiro got control of his stomach, helped by the lessening of noise. At least now he could-

    THE NOISE?!!? WE HAVE BEEN ATTACKED!!

    Reality hit him like a sledgehammer. Stumbling to his feet, fear cleared his mind of anything he had been feeling before as he beheld the last of the guard falling to his knees as multiple assailants continued to stab short blades into his body. The guard lashed out with the last of his strength, his discipline and training carrying the blade through the chest of one of his attackers even as the light of life left his eyes.

    Silence fell.

    Shiro was next to one of the walls. The guard’s defence lines plain on the floor through their broken and bleeding bodies, well outnumbered by crumpled forms of their foes. Beyond this ring of corpses, dark figures formed a crescent facing towards him. Black robes and hoods masked any features bar red-stained hands holding bloody knives. They stretched back as far as he could see and vanished into the gloom.

    Shiro’s hands tightened convulsively. Hyper-aware, he felt a single bead of sweat roll down his forehead as he stared into what must be his own death. Trying to muster his training, trying to remember his teachings, his teacher, his father, a cold voice dashed his courage to the ground.

    “He’s the one. The acolyte.”

    Terror gripped Shiro. In the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions, one thought stood at the eye of the storm. The only thing that was clear.

    They had been betrayed. The cult had known they were coming.

    The cold voice sounded out again.

    “Take him.”

    Terror’s grip changed in the blink of an eye to terror’s flight. His heart rose to his mouth as the figures surged forwards and he scrambled backwards. Away. Somehow he must get away. All his training was for naught as the lashed out unthinkingly as the mob descended on him. His flailing limbs connected with things that broke, pushed grasping grips away from him, but there were too many.

    Clubs, fists and feet crashed into him and he knew only blackness.
     
  9. Imrahil
    Slann

    Imrahil Thirtheenth Spawning

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    Read it to chapter three. I like it a lot.
    Very nice writing. I like how you describe the scenes.

    I found some typos.

    I think it was suppose to be "an acolyte", "the" and "match"

    as if he knew.

    Great stuff, keep on writing :)

    Grrr, Imrahil
     
  10. The Great White Lizard
    Chameleon Skink

    The Great White Lizard Well-Known Member

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    I just finished chapter four. Wow! Your worldbuilding is excellent, and the character development looks really good so far.
     
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  11. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Thanks! It really helps to keep me going to get feedback on what I've done so far :)
     
  12. The Great White Lizard
    Chameleon Skink

    The Great White Lizard Well-Known Member

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    Yeah, from the writing I've done I've realized feedback is key. Otherwise it can feel like a pretty endless slog, and feedback really helps to break it up. Keep on writing! (I'm entirely out of fluff pieces and you're the only one who stopped me from going partially insane by trying to read every short story from all the previous competitions on Scalenex's index)
     
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  13. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter 5

    Drip

    The whole of the universe seemed to resound with the sound.

    Drip

    The bolt splattered him with gore as it impacted in his friend’s head.

    Drip

    Crushing, bludgeoning pain.

    Drip

    Chanting... From somewhere far off. Low, guttural chanting in a language that was at once alien and at the same time seemingly at the very edge understanding.

    Drip

    Pain returned to him gradually. Like the tide rising on the shore of the sea, it built and built until he seemed to exist only as a throbbing pain.

    Drip

    Shiro’s head lolled. With the rising pain came an increase in volume of the chanting. Both vying for his complete attention. He realized that he was upright. With all of his willpower he willed his eyes open.

    And wished he hadn’t.

    A large chamber spread out before him. Countless figures kneeling and chanting in unison. From his limited view, he could see several bodies on a dais before him. Lying at the feet of several standing hooded figures, the bodies chests were splayed open. Breastbones shattered and ribs pulled apart, blood splattered on everything, they were only vaguely recognisable as some of the guards that he had come in with. One lying closest to him still had a bolt in it’s head.

    Thoughts started to force their way through the pulsating fog of pain. Shiro blinked. He felt he should know this person... As the hooded figures leaned down to hack again at the body, he saw its naked shoulder and a strange symbol, an hourglass filled with complex geometric designs...

    Memory returned slowly. He could never forget the beauty of the Eternal Order’s symbol, stared as a child at the one on his father’s shoulder. The hourglass represented time itself and the complex patterns within that he had never figured out the rhyme or reason for.

    Strangely, Shiro felt no fear. It was as if his personal stock of the emotion had been used up during the ambush. As he looked around at the macabre scene, he felt only a deep cold anger. Clenching his fists, he tried to summon his will but the beating he had received meant that he only served to increase his own throbbing headache.

    One of the hooded figures noticed him moving and jerked backwards. “Master! The acolyte! It stirs!”

    As the cavern continued to echo with the sounds of the chanting, the largest hooded figure turned round. Shiro could feel his baleful gaze even though he still could not see his eyes. “It matters not. The ritual is too far along and I think that if he was going to take action he would have already done so.”

    Shiro strained at his bonds. The chanting from the masses before him started to increase in pace. As he looked down to see how he was bound, he was repulsed to find he had been smeared with blood. Glyphs written in the red arterial fluids of what could only be from his friends. Surprisingly, he still felt no fear but the cold fires burned brighter within him.

    The hooded figure stepped closer. Pulling Shiro’s hair back, he leaned close. Despite the proximity Shiro could only barely make out the outline of a face And... was that a flash of metal beneath the robe?

    “You should be honoured, little one.” The... thing’s breath smelled of rotting meat, of dying flowers that had been left too long in the sun. “You will be the first to feel the embrace of our Lord.”

    Shiro stiffened in pain. Looking down, he grit his teeth as a knife blade almost lovingly slowly drew a symbol into his left pectoral muscle. Despite the pain, Shiro felt a warm glow at the back of his mind. Like the rising sun playing across his back, he felt a shadow of heat across his mind.

    Panic started to build within him. His efforts to escape his bonds became more frantic, more animalistic. The figure in front of him kept it’s face pointed towards him as it drew the same symbol on the opposite side of Shiro’s face. The figures started murmuring words, over and over...

    “Nur, khalak nee haar, Azaphor khazee...”

    As the words repeated, the warmth increased. The soft rising sun became burning, searing heat which rapidly rose past his pain threshold until the physical pain of his body became nothing more than a distant memory.

    The figure stepped back as Shiro’s body stopped straining against his bonds and curled backwards as if being bent by a giant’s hand. His sightless eyes staring at the ceiling as his body erupted in sweat and curls of flame starting issuing from the wounds on his chest.

    Shiro could see nothing, feel nothing apart from the conflagration encompassing his mind. In the midst of the agony, somehow the pain itself started to form features.

    As the figure watched, flames sputtered into life across Shiro’s chest, rapidly spreading to cover his entire body until only a vaguely humanoid furnace remained. The outline remained silent, taughtly stretched back as the head still faced the ceiling.

    The figure smiled under his hood. Good. Now the last steps to complete the Assumption needed a-

    An explosion rocked the cavern.

    The figure spun round. A mass of glowing figures darted through the cultists as blood, limbs and even torsos flew through the air. Cursing, the figure withdrew his hands inside his robe as he realized he was hopelessly outnumbered.

    Mentally reaching out, he cursed again when he found his brothers not close enough to Shift to him. Growling softly, he made a complex geometric figure with his hands and Shifted...
     
  14. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter 6

    Hands laid on the barrier before him, Tengu Shen focused his will, Ullata’s bond gracing him with power beyond even his focused mind. His entire body glowed a deep gold standing in front of the blocked cavern entrance.

    The cultists guards had been silenced easily. Thank Law that the final moments of Hiroto had been during a Linked update with one of the Law-Bound at the stronghold or they would never have known the disaster that was occurring now.

    Panic gripped him, scattering his attempt at gathering his will and the golden flow winked out in an instant. THEY HAD SHIRO! His heart rate soared out of control until the calming voice of Ullata floated through “Peace Tengu, we shall recover the little one.”

    Taking a few deep breaths, he realized one of the other Law-Bound had spoken to him, worry etched deep into his face.

    “Are you well, brother?”

    Tengu turned to Qui-Shu and nodded. The frown did not leave his second-in-command’s face, but he nodded as well and stepped back.

    Tengu exhaled, he needed to focus. The last thing this disaster needed was him losing his focus and permitting further casualties.

    Putting his hands back on the blocked entrance, he focused. The golden glow sprang back into being, rapidly building in intensity until he felt his entire being focused forwards. Tengu tensed his body and slammed a shoulder into the rock, just as he Extended with all of the built up power of a Law-Bound Grand Master.

    And terrified parent.

    The rock didn’t just shift. You cannot swing a small hammer at a door and expect it to roll. You cannot swing a kinetic force sufficient to collapse a castle wall at a boulder and expect mere movement.

    The boulder exploded. Shrapnel rebounded off of the cavern walls and the protective screens thrown up by the Law-Bound. The rock shards mowed down the first ranks of the chanting cultists.

    The Law-Bound were almost as fast.

    The small group erupted like lightning bolts through the crowded figures. Combat skills honed over decades, empowered by forces beyond this plane were no match for their opponents. Within minutes over half of the cultists lay dead or dying. Tengu paused for a fraction of a milisecond to locate Shiro but could could see nothing. As he spun through two cultists who were spearheading a slow responding counter-attack, he looked again for where they could be holding Shiro.

    Nothing. Only a figure that could only be the head priest on a dais next to a sacrificial fire. He looked at the sides for alcoves where someone could- His eyes snapped back to the fire as he looked, a vaguely humanoid figure was outlined by the flames.

    This time his concentration left him. The golden glow winked out in an instant as a cry of anguish was ripped from his throat. Had any cultist been close at that point, it would have been the end of him for in that instant there was no longer a Grand Master but a tortured parent. A man whose greatest love was being taken from him.

    He started running towards the flame, heedless of cultists around him being cut down by his brethren. His blade, no longer lightning fast but still in the hands of a master, cut down two cultists that lay between him and his son. Something impacted into his should and he lashed out unthinkingly, with both blade and hand but only his hand responded.

    He realized Ullata’s voice was screaming in his mind. “Concentrate Tengu! You can do nothing for the child if you are dead!”

    Tengu stopped. The cultists had finally rallied into a fighting block ahead of him. He instinctively dropped into a fighting stance, but his left arm didn’t respond. Looking down, the broken head of a spear jutted from his now useless limb. This more than anything allowed a trickle of reason to filter through his grief.

    Gathering his scattered wits, a deep gold burst from him as his form flashed across the intervening space and clashed with the cultists.

    -

    While Shiro’s body remained motionless in the flames, his mind and soul railed against the magical bonds that had been formed by the ritual and the presence forcing itself into his mind. His struggles were no less frantic and unthinking than they had been to escape the physical bonds.

    All physical pain forgotten, he felt the fiery sensation coalesce in his mind to something that felt like an Orb. The sensation was nothing like he had every experienced, the fiery orb feeling like a dagger stabbed into the center of his being.

    All thought left him as a whisper issued sibilantly out of the orb, the silken caress of the sound suddenly rendering him blank. “Well... This is a change... I have been summoned into one seemingly pure of heart... How interesting...”

    The Orb shifted. Shiro knew that he could not actually see the Orb, but somehow he was there and it had substance. The surface of the orb flowed, darkening as he watched. A vaguely feminine face form, with jutting horns above it’s brow. The shifting finished and Shiro beheld a face of beauty. The... being’s skin seemed flawless, a pinkish red colour and unimaginably smooth. Black hair flowed back from the head parted only by two horns on it’s forehead. The being smiled, revealing long canines and gleaming white teeth.

    Shiro knew that he should be afraid, repulsed... but somehow there was a connection here. He could feel a sense of unity with the being. The head nodded, smile broadening. “Yes, little one. Little host. We have so much to offer each other.” The head suddenly had a body, a lithe feminine shape clothed in red. She beckoned and Shiro responded. He felt himself drawing closer to the being, even though time and space had no relevance inside his own mind. The heat burned him but at the same time comforted him, completed him.

    The being’s feline smile was broad as he stepped before it... her? He felt her arms around him and then nothing.

    He fell forwards into a blackness flickering with scattered ember-like shards, as if a large fire had just been extinguished.
     
  15. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter 7

    Tengu Shen plowed through the massed cultists.

    A burgeoning rage flared within him. Their normally level-headed and coolly logical Master of Order fought with a rage that caused his brethren to take worried heed. Gone were the precise strokes to end the combat in the fastest time possible with minimal pain. The Master bludgeoned his way through the cultists, throwing his will against the massed ranks of the enemy in bloody, powerful sweeps that left the dying and crippled in his wake.

    The Order elemental having realized the futility of reasoning with him, issued an ultimatum.

    “Tengu Shen, if you do not regain control of yourself I will cut you off.”

    Tengu heard him not.

    His concern for Shiro had blinded him to any brows creased in worry or echo’ing voices in his head. As he crashed through the cultists line, he arrived at the foot of the dais just as the hooded figure, seemingly leading the cultists, dissolved before his eyes. The particles swirling in some invisible breezed to vanish within seconds.

    Scorning the steps as too far, he went to Extend and jump to the edge of the dais.

    He crashed headlong into the side of the dais.

    Shaking himself, he pulled himself to his feet. How could this be? He had maintained his concentration. Ullata? His own voice seemed to sound emptily in his own mind. A cold fear gripped him, but the urgency of getting to Shiro overrode even the consequences of what had just happened.

    He stumbled towards the stairs leading to the dais. As he climbed, he rounded the stairs just in time to see the flames surrounding Shiro wink out in an instant. Tengu let out a cry as he saw his son’s body slump to the ground and stumbled across the dais to take the limp body in his hands.

    -

    Shiro felt like he was rising through waters towards the surface. As he rose, even though blackness still surrounded him, he could hear the sounds of battle. Breaking the surface, the darkness still complete, he could feel the aches and pains of his own body as he felt the embrace of someone next to him.

    Forcing his eyes open, he looked up into the eyes of his father. He smiled at the look of relief in his eyes and was about to say something when the features before him suddenly contorted into terrified panic.

    As if a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown in his face, Shiro exploded into lucidity. The ritual! The blood! THE BEING! WHAT HAD HE BECOME?

    -

    Tengu wept as he looked down at the unconscious body of his son. He could see nothing but his haggard face and he embraced him tightly, rocking him slightly. As Shiro’s eyes flickered open he felt a surge of relief. He was alive! Tengu embraced him tightly and then pulled back to look into his face again.

    Which was when he saw it.

    Shiro’s normally bright green eyes were red as if flames danced within them. Horrified, Tengu looked closer and saw that it was flames. Dancing fires circling the iris of his son. Years of daemon hunting and purging evil surged within him. His instincts as a parent vied for his attention just as much.

    The daemon is most vulnerable during it’s first hours on this plane. The time to strike is then, before it has consolidated it’s hold on both the host and atmosphere.

    His son! Surely there was some way to save him.

    The possession, once the ritual is complete, is permanent. No Law-Bound has ever broken the hold of one Assumed and the waiting only made the only possible solution harder.

    I cannot let harm come to him. I must protect him.

    The price of a life, even one of the innocent, is a small price to pay compared to the destruction, chaos and mayhem that follows a daemon’s arrival to our plane.

    Tengu wept, unable to break his gaze from his son’s he stumbled backwards.

    Qui-Shu moved past him. Tengu hadn’t realized that the fighting was over, the cultists killed or scattered. HIs second in command’s eyes tightened as he saw Shiro’s eyes and his shoulder slumped slightly in resignation. Without turning, he addressed the Law-Bound Lord.

    “Master Shen. The Assumption is complete. He must be purged.”

    Tengu stood, staring at Shiro. Since opening his eyes he had said nothing, his frightened eyes staring around the room. Seemingly unable to talk, Tengu felt his eyes pleading with him to help him.

    But... In the end, there was only one choice. He could not claim his mantel as Master of Law if he was not able to enforce law on everything. Even his own son.

    Tengu drew his sword. Qui-Shu did not turn around, but moved off to the side still facing away from his Master. Tears coursed down his face as he summoned his will. Nothing. He bowed his head.

    Ullata. I have become myself again. I will become the force of Law in this world. Please join me again.

    So be it. Ullata’s voice echoed in his mind as his hands and sword in front of him blossomed into a glowing, golden light.

    As if watching someone else’s hands, someone else’s body, he moved closer to Shiro. And stood there. He had ended many innocent Assumed’s lives in this fashion, not that it ever got easier to take a person’s life whose only crime was of being there. The only way he had ever gotten through this point was reminding himself of what he was doing, what exactly he was ending at this point. The person’s life lost was a tragedy, preventing the daemon from rising was holy work.

    But this. This was torture. His son. Images flickered in front of his eyes. A young boy watched with huge eyes as his father practiced the blade. A slightly older boy tried his hardest to learn moves, clumsily following his elders. An older boy shouting in triumph as he won his first combat. This was truly the worst it had ever been.

    Without looking around, he could feel the gazes of the Law-Bound who had come with him. He could feel their judgement of his hesitation.

    His hands clenched convulsively on the haft of his sword. The daemon. He felt a rage forming within him. Though tears still fell, his lip drew back in a snarl as his anger at the daemon grew. The daemon has taken my son from me and left me with this husk. The daemon has already taken Shiro and that is all that stares back at me now.

    He swung the sword above him, poised to strike. Mentally fanning the rage to give him the strength to end this, he finally snarled.

    “You are a blasphemy.”

    The sword swung down.
     
  16. The Great White Lizard
    Chameleon Skink

    The Great White Lizard Well-Known Member

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    Wow! Talk about a cliff hanger. Next chapter! Next chapter!
     
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  17. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Ha! :)

    Thank you for the enthusiasm! :D

    Next one coming very soon! (This was always going to be a novelette so there are only 2 more chapters. Both I have already written so I will do my final edits on them and post today)
     
  18. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter 8

    The silence was deafening. Broken only by the dripping of blood from his crouched form.

    He pulled at the chains holding him on his knees, his eyes blind to the scene of carnage around him. The chamber still smelt of the blood of the dozens of bodies littering the floor and his own burned flesh.

    His master, his teacher, his father stood above him, revulsion in his eyes.

    “You are a blasphemy.”

    The sword swung down.

    Time froze. The sword, halfway to his head, glittered in the flames still burning around the room. Tears still glistened on his father’s face. The half-circle of Law-Bound stood rock-still, like sentinels guarding his soul from escaping.

    Shiro blinked. His mind was blank. Already trying to process what was happening, this new phenomenon was almost too much for him. He glanced around frantically, pulling at his chains with renewed vigour in an attempt to escape the descending golden blade.

    What was that sound? As his exhausted mind tried to sift through everything he realized that it was his own sobs escaping his chest. At once he felt the heaving of his chest as he cried tears of grief and helplessness. With a couple last half-hearted pulls on the chains, he slumped. His apathy complete he looked up into the enraged face of his father and realized just how badly he had failed.

    “It hurts him more than you know.”

    Shiro jumped. The silky voice came out of nowhere, shockingly close to him and strangely familiar.

    A feminine figure walked past him, long robes covered most of her body and legs, but leaving her arms and neck free, with long dark hair flowing behind her. She walked alongside his father and scrutinised him closely. With her face in profile, Shiro could see the horns on her forehead, the white only serving to highlight the light red of her skin. And her eyes... Black orbs that seemed to sink back into forever.

    She pursed her lips, pulling back and turning to face him. “In all his years as a Law-Bound Master, he has never faltered in his duty. Never faltered in the face of sacrifice for the greater good. His loss of control and hesitation over you torments him, makes him believe that he too could Fall. And you.” She stepped over to him, cupping his chin in a clawed hand her skin was unimaginably soft. “Sacrificing you is the hardest thing he has ever done.” Glancing back, she added “I should know, I was there for many of them and have heard from my kin of the rest.”

    Shiro’s mind reeled. All the training and dogma about the daemonic and their ilk that he had received matched nothing in this calm demeanour. Trying to gather the frayed ends of his wits, he stammered “W-w-who are you?”

    She smiled. “My name is Azaphor and I am your future, little one. Or the final witness to the end of your story.” She lithely folded to the ground and sat cross legged next to him, revealing again the sword frozen in it’s downward arc.

    “What do you mean?”

    “Is it not obvious? We are joined now. I am part of you. Until, as you humans say, death do us part.” Her lips quirked up on one side “Which I admit may be sooner that I was imagining.”

    Shiro struggled to make sense of what was happening. Sitting calmly discussing his descent into darkness with a beautiful daemon, while a sword hung over his head while a silent, brooding audience looked on.

    “You would just leave? I mean,” he swallowed hard, “if I die, surely you die?”

    She waved a hand. “Oh, certainly it is not a pleasant experience for me but nonetheless fairly painless. For you... well, I have never died so I would not know.”

    Her manner was calming, or he was finally reaching the final stage before death where acceptance is the only way forward. “What did you mean, you could be my future?”

    She smiled again and stroked the side of his face. “I mean that I can grant you power, little one. Enough to escape this death and forge your own destiny.”

    “You mean through chaos and mayhem?” Somehow Shiro found the strength to laugh bitterly. “I know of your kind, you want nothing but destruction and oblivion.”

    She grasped his hair and pulled his head towards hers. Her black eyes smouldering red as small flames flickered out, her beautiful face transforming into a vision of rage. A beautifully, terrifying visage. Her words came out as a low hiss, “Listen to me, little one. You and your kind know NOTHING of me and mine. You Law-Bound are almost as bad as these cretins who forcibly summon me to this plane.” Her grip tightened, lifting his head up until his knees came off the floor. “Did you know that your Order”, spitting the last word out, “have hunted my kind for centuries? Did you know that THEY initiated the hunt? That the entire premise for their hunt is nothing more than their OWN desire for supremacy.”

    Only Shiro’s feet were touching the floor now and only because she had lifted him until his chains reach their full extension. She brought her face close to his, her eyes narrowed to slits but the small flames around her eyes were huge. “You know nothing.” She gradually lowered him to the floor, the fires diminishing until her eyes were again black orbs.

    “But I do not visit the sins of your anscestors upon you. After all, you were not there and I should not blame you.” She settled back into her relaxed cross-legged position.

    Shiro didn’t know what to think or believe. A lifetime of dry education versus real life claims, but also data from people he trusted who had raised him against something he had just met. The being seemed to read something in his face and sighed deeply.

    “In the end, my little Law-ling, it matters not if you believe me now. I know my efforts to persuade you to my side of the story would seem hollow and empty, especially given the circumstances where I seem to be invested in staying on this plane.”

    She turned to look at his father, the gleaming sword still hanging immobile two feet away from his head. “The only question that matters is whether you chose to die now or embrace the power that I can grant you.”

    Shiro turned his head back as well. His father’s grimace seemed so out of place in a gaze looking at him. In this moment of unreality, he wondered what was going through his mind and whether there was a possibility that what the being was saying was actually true. He had never met a daemon, nor seen carnage and destruction wrought by their hands. He had only heard the stories and listened to the tales. True, these had come from people who had protected him, raised him. He swallowed back a lump in his throat. Even his family.

    Still looking into the face of his father, he finally asked himself the question: after everything, did he want to die?

    For years afterwards, he found himself wondering about this moment. Had it been cowardice that made him choose as he did? Had he bought into the story of the daemon and thus it was bravery in the face of the unknown? Or had he simply justified all of his actions and it had really been a deep-seated sense of self-preservation. The question tormented him for the rest of his days.

    Shiro spoke softly, without taking his eyes from his father.

    “I do not want to die.”

    For a minute there was no response. Stuck in this moment, Shiro relived all of his short life as he stared up into his father’s face. The first time he had watched his father fight. His mother holding him as he fell asleep. Losing her from the wasting sickness. The first time he had won in the arena and his father holding him high, a proud smile on his face.

    Suddenly realizing there had been nothing but silence, he turned back to the being. Azaphor still sat where she was, but her expression had changed. She now wore a small, sad smile.

    “So be it little one. Accept my embrace.”

    Shiro sat up as much as he could with the chains as she came around in front of him. Leaning forwards she put her head on one of his shoulders and put her arms around him, almost affectionately. Up close she seemed to smell of ash and smoke, of distant bonfires burning in the night. She leaned her head against his and whispered to him.

    “Be like the smoke, little one. And be free.”

    -

    Tengu’s sword swung true, the razor sharp blade flashed down like lightning towards his Son’s head. At the back of his mind, Tengu wailed in grief and loss.

    And Shiro exploded.

    It took a split second for Tengu to realize that instead of blood, smoke billowed out from his form. A cloud that rushed out in a perfect circle from where he had sat, leaving only the metallic ring of the manacles that dropped to the floor. The smoke dispersed out until nothing of this remained either.

    Qui-Shu’s panicked voice rang out commandingly, “It has escaped! Spread out! We cannot allow it to leave the mine!” All of the Law-Bound flashed into action, golden glows appearing around them as they flickered away like lightning bolts. All except Tengu.

    The master stood, breathing heavily, emotions warring in his mind. Loss, grief, anger all intertwined with a small joy that he would not have the blood of his son on his conscience. But deep within, something had broken within him. His steel resolve to do justice no matter the circumstance now had a deep fissure. Overriding all of it was a sadness: his son knew that he would have landed the mortal blow against him.

    They searched for hours, but found nothing.
     
  19. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    Chapter 9

    1 year later...

    Clutching his robes about him, the man blinked the sweat out of his eyes and looked up and down the street again before scurrying across the street. This part of the city was lawless and you could be killed over nothing more than having looked the wrong person in the eyes. The constables who enforced the laws of the Unity would not come here unless in large numbers and usually with a small military presence. And even they did not stay long.

    The man spotted the tavern he was looking for. The small painted sign swung in the slight evening breeze, depicting a tightly worked spiral starting at the edge and moving ever inwards. He had been told that The Void was at the heart of this place, dark and dangerous.

    But also a place where you could find help, if you were desperate.

    He pushed his way through the door and was met with the familiar stench of unwashed bodies and alcohol. Stepping gingerly across the floor towards the bar, he pointedly avoided making eye contact with the sparse clientele.

    The bar keeper kept a steady gaze on him as he approached, hands casually polishing a glass which he set down before him.

    “What’ll it be friend?”

    The man swallowed. “I was hoping to find something that would burn the throat with fire.”

    As the last word of the code phrase he had been given came out, all about him came a cacophony of scraping chairs and metallic rings. Sweating slightly, the man glanced about him to see that every person in the tavern stood now, bearing some kind of blade and staring at him.

    The bar keeper continued polishing the glass. Nothing had changed in his demeanour aside from one eyebrow had been raised. “I hope you’re sure this is the drink you want my friend. There’s no turning back now.”

    The physical threat surrounding seemed to break down some barrier in the man and before he knew it he was babbling, “I don’t know what else to do. He’s a nobleman high in the Unity. I tried going to the watch and only just escaped being clapped in irons myself. I have no proof bar my own memories of what I saw and the bruises I received. I don’t have money, I can’t pay for the Magistrate’s Court. I barely make a living as it is. My life is a miserable hell which my wife left me in years ago.” Tears started rolling down the man’s face as the tirade continued. “I would have ended it all long ago if not for her. My daughter is the only thing I have to live for. I always swore I’d do anything to keep her safe and I would! But they were soldiers, him a lord. I even tried to fight back but they took her anyways and left me in the gutter.” His voice broke, he stuttered a couple more incoherent sounds and fell silent.

    Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, he looked up again at the bar keeper and saw a look of understanding.

    “We know you’ve been looking for her, Ivor. We’ve heard your story through our eyes and ears on the street.” He nodded to someone at the side and the feeling of danger in the room changed. The man glanced around again and it was as if nothing had happened, the random drinkers in the tavern chatted to each other or stared off into the gloom.

    The bar keeper handed the glass to a second man and gestured. “Come with me.”

    He lead Ivor through an entrance into a darkened hallway. He rapidly lost track of the turns they took as they all looked the same until they came to another door. The bar keeper wordlessly indicated it and then stood with arms folded. Ivor swallowed hard. It was all very well to talk of making a deal with the devil and another to actually meet him.

    Ivor opened the door and stepped onto the first of several steps that led upwards. Climbing the stairs cautiously he entered a loft lit with several burning torches. The only thing in the room were support beams, bare wooden floors and the two sides of the sloping room. Almost incongruously, glass windows covered half of the far wall and a figure stood facing away from him.

    “H-Hello?”

    “Come in Ivor.” The cultured tones of the voice put him at ease. Not gravelly or grave, the voice was light and the inflection seemed to indicate that this man had been, at least at one point, a nobleman.

    Ivor took his cap off his head and held it in both hands before him, unsure of whether he would need to observe the same protocols as for those of the Unity. As he came closer he saw that the man stood over 6 foot tall, broad shoulders covered with light armour overlaid with a strange cloth. Two scabbards hung from a strap that covered his chest, one smaller and one larger but both curved.

    The man turned slightly as Ivor approached. “Tell me of your daughter, Ivor.”

    Haltingly, Ivor started repeating the story he had told below, but the man cut him off. “I know the bones of the story, I would hear of the child herself.” The man turned as he said this and Ivor jumped. The man’s eyes glowed like glowing coals had been placed behind his eyes, varying shades of red shifting and pulsing.

    Strangely, he found himself growing at ease under the gaze rather than faltering.

    He started speaking and found the words flowed from him easily. He spoke of his daughter’s birth, the concern of being able to feed her. His wife leaving both him and the child. The bond that had formed between them and the new purpose he had found. Above all love. His love for her and her love for him. A fragile, beautiful spark in the unrelenting void of his life.

    He finished. The man standing before him nodded. “I will bring her to you. Visit this tavern again in one week’s time and you will be reunited with your daughter.” The man started to turn away, taking one first step towards the open window. Ivor, emboldened by the reception he had received, called out, “But what of the cost? I was told that to buy your assistance would cost me dearly.” He steeled himself. “I was told that you would take a piece of me as payment.” Even though his hands trembled, his voice remained steady. “I am ready to pay the price. I would pay anything for her.”

    The man turned back, the glowing coals seemingly fanning hotter as the man’s eyes were now fully aflame. His voice, however, was a whisper. “It is true, the price is a part of you. But not in the way you think. The threat keeps all those with fake or fickle plans away from me, for I am no assassin or mercenary. Someone paid to take life.” Ivor could feel the heat of the flames now, the intensity rising. “I am justice. And I will bring light to the darkness.”

    His mouth quirked into a slight smile. “As for taking part of you? You have already done so. Your memories of your daughter.”

    Ivor’s breath caught in his throat as a icy chill settled on him. “M-my memories? Of my daughter?! Please, I beg of you. Take something else, anything else. I would give you my left hand before I gave those up.”

    “Peace Ivor. I meant only that you have shared them with me. They are yours and I cannot take them away.”

    Ivor started breathing more easily. He watched as the man walked over to the open window and put one foot on the sill.

    Ivor realized that he was being dismissed. “But... Is that it? That is the only price I have to pay? Pardon my lord, but it seems that I am cheating you. What do you get from this?”

    “Justice.” After a small pause, the man turned back to him and leaned slightly forward. “And your oath that you will not reveal what happened here to anyone. If someone asks you how you got your daughter back, you can tell them that you found me but not how.”

    Ivor heard steps on the stairs, he turned as the bar keeper reached the top and beckoned to him.

    “I thank you my lord, I am forever in your debt, I am-“ Turning back Ivor found the spot next to the window empty, save wisps of smoke as if some fire had just been extinguished floated out into the night.

    -

    Several days later, the city was rocked by the news that one of the highest ranking members of the Unity had been murdered. News spread like wildfire. The nobleman’s entire guard had been slain to a man. The nobleman himself found dead within a heavily locked room, with no sign of forced entry or exit.

    Within the noble circles, rumours abounded of an assassin that could walk through walls. Of the burns and fires found on the bodies of the slain as if Hell itself had visited the sinners and dragged them down into it’s fiery depths. Of vengeance made flesh come to account for their misdeeds. But while the nobles slept with one eye open and with heavy guards, the opposite was true on the streets.

    A name was repeated from mouth to mouth, in tavern and market. Whispered so as not to draw attention to it, but whispered with hope. Hope and a dream that justice could be served and that no-one stood above it’s judgement.

    The Dawnflame.
     
  20. Lizards of Renown
    Slann

    Lizards of Renown Herald of Creation

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    So that's it!

    That's the first draft of the short story. I'm going back through it now to catch spelling mistakes and inconsistencies.

    I might come back to the character at some point in the future (as I had a lot of fun with him) but for now I think I'll get going on the other idea that has been persistently knocking at the windows of my mind:

    Natural Souls.

    Stay tuned as I'll start a new thread on it once I've gotten going.

    P.S. I'd like to say thanks to all the encouragement. Up until the short story contest in December 2019, I hadn't written anything since I was kid. Except for the birthday presents for my Dad who, despite the fact that I am 37, still demands something that I have made for his birthday. Even so, I hadn't actually really wanted to write ANYTHING for a long time so LO was really the thing that got me going.
     

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