On-The-Spot Short Stories

[Emanku]

I'm going to make a short story here every once in a while. There will have been no previous thought on the story before being written in here. Feel free to compliment or critique my work, I'm always willing to learn. Ok, here goes #1.

Sparrow Song

I turn to look for the sparrow, chattering somewhere in a patch of bushes near me. He wants to be found, that's obvious, but why? I must be too close to his nest, or his mate. I was the same way with my family, but that was long ago. I urge my horse to continue. That little sparrow would draw danger toward it to keep others safe. Three vows I had taken were to do just that.

The first of my three vows, I made twenty-two years ago. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon. Trees all around still had their leaves, but the leaves were awe-inspiring shades of orange and gold and red. There were sparrows then too. Whole hordes of sparows converged on the wedding, hoping for crumbs. Standing before the priest, I made the vow to protect my new wife, no matter the consequence to me. Being of noble descent, I could shower my beloved with gifts, but those few words meant more to her than if I had given her the whole of England.

My second such vow I gave many years later. It was early morning, before the sun had risen. A fragile creature clung to me, pressing her face to my chest, wetting my shirt with tears. Winter was coming on, and now only three sparrows still stayed by my house. The others had moved on for warmer weather. Cradling my little daughter gently, I whisper to her softly. Comforting words. I told her that the monsters in her dream weren't real. Then I stroked her hair until she looked up into my face. Smiling, I told her that even if the monsters were real, I would protect her from them.

I miss them both so much. I could not fulfill my vows. When thugs came to murder me, I was away on business, but my family remained. When the monsters in my little girl's dream came, I was miles from there, with no way to save them. For weeks, I did little more than cry, or wrestle with horrifying nightmares. A broken man, I had nothing left to live for.

Then, I made my final vow. I vowed not to one person, but to many. I sold everything I owned, bought the best armour, sword and horse that money could buy, and off I went. I vowed to always serve the people to the best of my ability, even unto death.

Looking behind me now, I see the thousands of armoured knights following me. The chilling midwinter air means nothing to me now. People hail me as the greatest knight in history, and I attribute that fame to my dedication, my dedication to my vow. The enemy approaches. They outnumber us greatly, but we fight for honour, for our country, for our loved ones. These men under my command would give their lives as willingly as the father sparrow would. Pride wells up in my soul as I look upon these brave men.

Holding my sword in front of me, I call out in a loud voice and spurr my horse into a gallop. Others follow suit behind me. We rush forward to meet our fates, the greatest battle of our generation. Like the sparrow, I will give my life.

[martinloyola]

definetly thought provoking, I like the way it flashes back and goes through time, I wasn't expecting the third vow to become something big at the end like it did, kinda of 'mysterious' almost

[Emanku]

Here's short story #2

Ice Field

Sam clung to his firearm despite his hands being numb from the cold. Hail came down, rain came down, sometimes snow came down. The enemy had won the first battle and their numbers were now much greater. Sam's face mask was smeared red blocking his vision, but he could barely keep his frosted eyes open anyways.

Some movement in the bushes!
BAM! BAM!
Sam's shots were way off, but it scared the little bugger into retreating.

"Dad," Sam whimpered, "My hands are too cold. I have to warm them up if I'm going to be any good to you."
His father looked over and nodded his approval.
Sam crouched on the slippery wood and tenderly pried his hands off his weapon. He started rubbing his hands together vigorously while shielding them from the rain with his body.

BAM! BAM! BAM!
Sam's father was a keen shot, having served in the military before, but the cold seemed to be affecting him too. His hands quivered slightly in the freezing air, his breath was laboured.

Sam gripped his gun again, took the safety off, and stood up. He looked over the edge of the makeshift tower to his friend below. There stood the usually optimistic redhead, shivering from cold and from fear. He returned Sam's gaze.
"I think we're the only ones left!" he called up.

Fear gripped Sam's heart. Looking around, he could see they had been surrounded. No help could get to them, let alone get them out of this mess.

Every second felt like a minute in that freezing hell hole. Eventually shots did cut through the air again . . . a barrage of them!
At least five enemies.
Within seconds, both Sam's best friend and his father were finished. Only Sam remained, the last line of defense.
"Why did we have to charge the enemy's base right away?" Sam spewed his frustration, "Our numbers were about even, but now it's one to five, at least."

Another barrage of shots rang out. One hit Sam's face shield. For the most part, the face shield protected him, but it still stung immensely. Another shot his his face shield. A foul taste filled his mouth. Sam coughed and a thick red liquid shot out from between his lips.

The enemy was running. But why?
Oh no!

Sam hopped out of the tower and looked beneath it. No! It was gone!

For a moment, Sam started to run after them, but eventually gave up. It was no use. He began a sad, slow march back. A tall man Sam knew from church was heading for the battlefield.
"Don't bother!" Sam called, "It's over!"
The tall man looked confused and asked, "What do you mean?"
"They're already halfway back to their tower," Sam replied, "And they have our flag."


This is a very accurate retelling of a paintball match I was in.

[Emanku]

Short story #3

Sunstar's Final Mission

The ship was closing in fast. Sunstar had a damaged hull, offline shields, disabled weapons and an injured captain, but still it continued. The tiny scout ship needed to warn the United Earth about the alien fleet approaching.

Hank did what he could to dodge enemy fire, but with a shattered left arm and a shard of steel lodged behind his ear even staying conscious was a struggle. He frantically pounded the controls sending the ship into zig-zags and barrel rolls while still heading for the nearest outpost, the Paccentthian. The Paccentthian's weapons could easily take out the Raplin fighter on his tail and they could relay the warning message to the other mobile outposts. The United Earth fleet could be assembled. The Raplins would not win.

Raplins are very technologically advanced, far more than the humans, but their numbers are small. They had always been a peaceful race, what had changed? Hank saw the millions of fighters. He saw the thousands of cruisers. He saw the ship. It was huge. An enormous beam weapon with thrusters, that's all it was. Remembering the thing made Hank shiver. No denying it, Hank was scared. The only chance humanity had was in the speed they assembled their fleet.

Another enegy blast hit Sunstar. It went into a spiral with all three engines out. The blast wasn't meant to damage Sunstar, it was just a temporary engine disabler. Now Hank was confused, and that made him even more scared. Does it want to take him prisoner? Kill him with its own hands?

The fighter pulled up next to Sunstar and began docking. Fear gripped at Hank like an icy hand, paralyzing him. The Raplin came into the tiny two-man cockpit. He was young and looked scared.

Taking a look at the damaged ship he squeeked out, "I apologize."

He continued, "I had to make it look realistic until I got out of their scanner range, I apologize."

"What's going on?" Hank demanded.

"An evil, evil being took control of the council. He's not Raplin, but is very influencial in the Raplin community." He paused before continuing, "He's the one who wants us to attack you humans and he used his warship to elimenate any major opposition, I'm sure you noticed his warship."

Hank nodded.

"Warn your people! He must be stopped! If you can destroy his warship, our people will revolt against his followers. Please!"

The urgency in the alien's voice gave Hank the impression that if he didn't hurry, many people would die. The young Raplin returned to his ship and Hank's engines reactivated. As the Raplin fighter faded off Hank's radar, Hank streaked a path to the Paccentthian. With new determination he sped off to warn his fellows of the danger that approached.

He had underestimated the speed of the Raplin ships for when he finally reached transmitting range with the outpost, a Raplin cruiser had already arrived. Hank still knew more about the Raplin attack then they did at the outpost, and he needed to let them know.

A warning light flashed, the cruiser was powering its main cannon. That weapon could tear the Paccentthian in two! Hank knew there was only one way he could accomplish his mission. He flicked two switches and punched in a password. The ship's black box shot out a trapdoor and rocketted toward the outpost. That would give them the information they needed.

Hank pulled the joystick then pushed a few buttons. Sunstar changed trajectory from the Paccentthian to the Raplin cruiser's main cannon.

Hank leaned back in his chair and slipped into unconciousness thinking mission accomplished.

[TwilightApostle]

I only had a chance to read the first one, but you have a definite gift for writing. Heck, it kind makes me jealous to think compare you stories to those I wrote when I was your age.
Also, you have a talent for compressing a lot into a small space. Refine and develop that, as there is a booming market for that kind of writing (if you're planning on going into writing).

[Emanku]

There has to be more comments out there than what I've gotten so far! Anyway, here's #4 [Part1]:

Skull Trumpets

For all of the creatures and people that lived in the dark forests of Trestar, Land of Shame, life was a desperate struggle. No matter how powerful an animal was, there was always another that could tear it to pieces. No matter how skilled in the black arts a wizard was, there was always another who could best him. The weak perished to make way for the strong, who were in turn destroyed by those stronger. That was how life was for thousands of years.

Then something unheard of in Trestar happened, something completely unexpected. The greatest wizard made an alliance with the greatest beast. Together, the two behemoths took control of the Land of Shame, killing any who opposed them. Order was established. However, it was a dark and bitter one that was bought with blood, and kept with fear. Alestin, the mage, and Black-Ravage, the spider bear, ruled Trestar for many years.

For nearly two decades, Alestin and Black-Ravage took what they wanted from whoever was in the way. Still, they were not satisfied with their land of dead trees, dying people and seasonless, unpredictable weather. Constantly looking up and seeing black clouds that had never rained did not please them. Seeing dead bodies rot away into nothingness no longer served as entertainment. They wanted a new land. A living land that they could slowly wring the life out of. That's when the real trouble began, because in a forest full of battle-hungry killers, an army is easy to raise.

Within months, the two dictators had built up an army of unparalleled might. Spider bears, wizards, wolfmen, assasins and an unimaginable assortment of other monstrosities camped at the border of their dying homeland. Before them lay the beautiful land of Kralen. Because it bordered Trestar, the Kralenians were no weaklings. The people of Kralen frequently repelled every sort of creature from entering their lands. However, they had no idea that an army was amassing while they lived out their abnormally long lives.

On a crisp, autumn morning in the land of Kralen, those within a mile of Tretar all heard a dreadfull sound. A trumpet, carved from a minotaur's skull blew loud and long. After a dreadful silence the horn blew again, but this time it was joined by hundreds like it. The sound of the magically endowed instruments sent a wave of fear across the nation of Kralen; a paralyzing fear. As thousands of grotesque creatures charged out of the dying forest, Kralen's guardians could only watch in horror, trying desperately to run.

The prosperous land of Kralen fell to the hordes of Trestar in mere hours. Those unlucky few that survived the "Massacre of the Trumpets" fled to neighbouring nations but were plagued by nightmares and, most often, insanity. This was the beginning of the bloodiest, most brutal conquest in history.

Alestin and Black-Ravage were not happy with the land of Kralen, though they should have been. The two rulers, and their seemingly unstoppable army, quickly set up plans to conquer more nearby nations. Two days after crushing Kralen, Alestin marched half the army into Ori, Land of Justice. Black-Ravage took the rest of the army and assaulted the fortress of Hont in the mountainous land of Kairn. Both strikes succeeded with few casualties. The two dictators then attacked the powerful Goroth empire from two sides. Goroth had never lost a battle, but even they fell to the might of the Trestar creatures.

All seemed hopeless. The Goroth empire's defeat had the unfortunate result of nearly the entire planet giving up all hope for survival. When the armies of Trestar spread, they encountered little resistence. Nation after nation fell at the hands of the Trestar, and still they continued their rampage of death.

[End of Part 1]

If anyone wants to find out what will happen, I'd better get some comments or criticism!

[true_noir_chloe]

Well, I liked the first one and the last one. So, go ahead and place Part II up. I haven't been in the writing section for a long while, so I'm just now enjoying some of the good writing that has been placed here in the last two months.

I can't promise I'll be back in this section, but at least I've subscribed to this thread now and I can read any future short stories you write via email. ^_^

[Emanku]

Skull Trumpets [Part 2]

Emperor Valbin slammed his fist on the table. He had been trying for four hours to forge an alliance with the neighbouring kingdom of Arth.

"Shim, why are you so against making an alliance with my people?" he shouted.

Shim, High Councellor of Arth, calmly replied, "Please, Emperor, calm yourself. I will not create an alliance lightly, a last-minute attempt at survival. You must prove yourself a worthy parter."

"There's no time!" Valbin screamed. "Every day the Trestar move closer, wiping out everyone. Together, we are as strong as the Goroth empire is!"

"Was," Shim corrected. "The Goroth fell just as easily as the others did. Why would it be different for us?"

Valbin leaned back in his chair and lowered his eyes. "I know you're right. I'm doing this for my people. They have lost hope, lost their will to fight." He hunched over, looking much older than he really was. "I guess I've lost my will to fight as well . . ."

Shim lowered his eyes as well. "What can be done?"

A knock on the door interrupted the two rulers' wallowing in self pity. "Come in . . ." both said in depressing unison. A messenger rushed into the room with an urgent - but slightly confused - expression. He bowed to each ruler, cleared his throat, and said, "S-sirs . . . there's s-someone who wishes to s-speak with you. He s-says it's urgent."

"Tell him to wait until we've finished our discussion," Valbin said, turning back to Shim.

"P-Please don't make me do that, s-sirs."

"Why not?" Shim asked, curious about what made the messenger so frightened.

"He m-might k-kill me for it."

Valbin and Shim both leapt out of their chairs, both wanting an explaination.

"H-he's a Trestar l-lizardman," the messenger squeeked, wiping his brow.

Shim sat back into his chair, too shocked to stand anymore. Valbin, after asking several questions the messenger couldn't answer, finally told him to send the lizardman in. He looked down at Shim and shook his head. "I'd rather converse with that lizardman than sit here doing noting.

Unlike most lizardmen, who are vicious, dirty killers, the one that entered the room looked quite dignified. His scales beautifully reflected the sunlight, sending a rainbow of colours dancing about the room when he walked. His armour was made from his own shed scales, which were as strong as steel. His stride put to shame that of any human nobleman. Valbin and Shim were both notably surprised.

"Numberless blessings upon you, Empreror, High Councellor," the lizardman said, bowing low to each matriarch. "My name is Santradis. You must be wondering why came to see you."

Shim and Valbin nodded both to shocked to do much more.

Santradis sighed heavily. "I am creating an army to stop Alestin and Black-Ravage. I was their battle tactician, before I ran away. But my plans never involved mass slaughter. I created the skull trumpets to paralyze the enemy, it was never my intention that they die."

"S-so what do we do?" Valbin asked, shocked to find himself stuttering.

"Fight!" cried Santradis. "I can protect your men from the trumpets' magic and I can give you a battle plan. I must make amends for my wrongs. I should have never trusted them . . ."

"Why should we trust you?" Shim demanded.

"Because if you don't, you will be responsible for the death of your people. I am your only chance for survival."

[End of part 2]

[Emanku]

Skull Trumpets [Part 3]

The army was breathtaking. Lined up on the plains of Arth were a dazzling array of warriors, thousands of them, of different clans, cultures, even species. The famed riders of Arth marched beside the phalanx legions of Bremlin, who marched beside the wolf riders of Dirn.

Santradis nodded proudly. "We have a chance."

Valbin glared at him and asked suspiciously, "You doubt that we can win? Look at the power of the army we have. Surely even the Trestar cannot stand against all this."

Slowly Santradis lowered his head. "Have you seen it? Their army?"

"No, but . . ."

"Then you don't understand!" he cried. "They fight more fiercely than you can imagine! I can disable their trumpets, so what? They still outnumber us twenty to one at least!" The lizardman slammed a scaled fist on the rock he was leaning on. It cracked; split in half.

Valbin, Shim and Keith, Czar of Dirn, stumbled back, awed at the strength of Santradis.

Santradis smiled grimly, "That's nothing compared to what a spider bear can do. I may be the strongest lizardman, but I'm weaker than most of those monsters."

This gave a new perspective to the three rulers gathered there. An army with greater numbers, power and who knows what else. What did they have? A reptile with a plan.

"So what can we do?" Keith asked, looking quite shaken. "Is there any way we can win?"

"I believe we can win, if we stick with my plan."

Shim stepped forward, "So just what is this plan of yours?"

Looking ashamed, Santradis said, "I'm sorry. I cannot tell you yet, or you will all try to back out."

"I give you my word I will not back out!" Valbin cried. "Tell me your plan or I just might back out now."

"Alright," Santradis said quietly. He moved over to Valbin and hissed something into his ear. Valbin's eyes flew up with shock and his jaw dropped.

Sumbling backwards, Valbin stammered, "Y-you're crazy! But . . . I gave you my word. I will follow through with your plan."

Santradis smiled weakly. "I thank you for your support. I know it seems crazy, but it's the only thing that could work."

"And you're already making the necessary preparations?" Valbin asked.

"Yes," Santradis said, "the merchant peoples of Grit are already making all the needed materials. It will be ready in time."

Shim and Keith shared a look of confusion and fear. Any plan that could rattle Valbin was something to be feared.

"Yes, all will be ready for the day that Trestar falls."

[End of Part 3]

[Emanku]

All this time and no comments? If nobody cares about my story enough to comment on it, I'm just going to leave it unfinished!

[true_noir_chloe]

I've been busy and anonymous has been out of town. So, don't get so upset. If you write it, they will come. ^__^ kay? Anyway, it's fun to write and just put it up there - good practice.

[Emanku]

Sry . . . I overreacted . . .
Anyway, here's the next part.

Skull Trumpets [Part 4]

The trestar army continued to march and enemy armies continued to fall before their might. Few cassualties had been suffered as most didn't have the will to fight back and most of those that did couldn't because of the magical trumpets Santradis created. Alestin and Black-Ravage no longer feared retalliation and continued to conquer. They had the men slaughtered (many were also eaten alive), the women raped and the goods plundered. Trestar's border size had increased a hundred fold and its wealth had grown even more rapidly.

But on one early winter morning, a thin layer of frost still covering the ground, they encountered something nobody had expected. There, on the plains of Arth, was an immense army barring the Trestar from going further without a fight. Most creatures in the Trestar army cackled amongst themselves, they preferred it when a victom was fully conscious and terrified, rather than dispairing - just waiting to die. Many laughed loudly and called the humans before them fools, openly daring them to attack before the trumpets were blown.

But the human army stood silent, like an army of statues. This enraged the Trestar who heaped curses upon the heads of those who would oppose them. "I will eat your children in front of you!" cried an ogre brandishing a massive butcher knife. Another beast, so covered in old scars its species couldn't be made out, yelled, "Your lives are meaningless, simply by standing there you have doomed yourselves!" Before long so many shouts were resounding that none could be made out clearly. That is, until a voice ten times louder than any other screamed, "Silence you thundering idiots!" Black-Ravage was before the army standing on his hind legs. He was like a mountain of power that could do nearly anything, he stood twelve feet tall and weighed around a thousand pounds. Immediately, all was silent. Satisfied, Black-Ravage returned to his place at Alestin's side.

For a few moments nothing moved, nothing dared to breath. Slowly, and with a grace that would have shamed the greatest dancer, Alestin raised his right hand, took a step forward and brought it down in a great sweeping motion, ending with him pointing directly at the opposing army. The signal for a full-on attack had been given and every warrior responded simultaneously. The ground thundered as countless monstrosities barrelled forwrd, South, toward the only hope for peace. Trumpets blared loudly, their sound carrying their magical curse far and wide.

It seemed that the trumpets had worked on the army. Alestin had been afraid Santradis could counter the magic, since he created it, but it appeared he had failed. The human army wasn't moving an inch. "Fool," Alestin whispered to himself, "He will pay for his treacherous ways when I find him."

Alestin was the first to reach his enemy and he violently thrust his rune-encrusted dagger into the heart of the nearest victim. The blade jammed. Alestin looked at the dagger, dumbfounded. He hadn't stabbed a Bremlin phalanx, he had stabbed a wooden statue of a Bremlin phalanx. Alestin cried out in rage at being tricked along with at least a hundred other warriors.

None of the Trestar heard a reptilian voice, magically shielded from reaching their ears, yelling, "Now! While they are confused stike! Now Trestar falls!"

[End of Part Four]

[true_noir_chloe]

Whoo, good writing. This is very interesting. ^___^ Thanks for adding some more. And, sorry if I was too harsh with you. I understand what it feels like when no one reads your stuff. It's very humbling.

[Emanku]

I'm going to be writing in this thread some more soon. Please understand that I'm not trying to gravedig, I just haven't had an internet connection in three months.

[Emanku]

Here it is, the conclusion to my five-part short story. I hope you enjoy it.

Skull Trumpets [Part 5]

From both sides of the battlefield, multitudes of warriors in sparkling armor appeared and burst into a charge. The ground shook with their ferocity and their passionate shouts. Stunned at this new development, the Trestar army actually fell back, gathering into a compact mass around the statues.

Santradis nervously caressed a small metal device in his hand. “Not yet . . . not yet . . .â€

[Esoteric]

Just discovered this thread, and I'm very glad I did. Even just skimming a couple of the stories, I was drawn in by them. Love your writting style! Keep posting...Ill be sure to come back.

[Emanku]

Alrighty, then. Because of a nice compliment from Esoteric, I've been inspired to write more.

Phalanx

My reflection looks distorted and surrealistic in the mercury surrounding me. A raft made of empty drums and a few other common items is all that separates me from the toxic substance. It's a little warmer than the air around it making the liquid metal seem almost inviting. Fortunately I'm smarter than to even touch the stuff. Those that even dip a finger into the massive mercury canals don't live for long.

Why would I be so close to such a hazardous element? It's the only way to escape. My only chance to escape is now and the only way to do it is through the canals. Guards patrol almost everywhere but here and if I was much older I'd have a chip in my forehead or maybe in my right hand. The Now-One-Man or N.O.M. chips always tell them where I am, what I'm doing and just about everything. They'd know I was trying to escape before I'd fully formulated a plan.

These phalansteries are evil and so are their micro chips. Every aspect of human life controlled; manipulated; subject to scrutiny, ridicule and punishment. This isn't how life should be, I just know it. From the little bits of history I've gathered, these places were once perfect sanctuaries from the devastation plaguing planet earth. Havens where people worked in peace and unity toward a single goal. Bliss. Then, later, when chaos reared its ugly head once again, harmony was forced upon us. Heaven turned to Hell before our very eyes.

No phalanx has ever escaped from one of these death traps. No one has. I intend to be the first. Already, I've bypassed every form of security imaginable. Motion sensors were the easiest; I just had to take my time. Thermal cameras proved a little tougher but still reasonable. Somehow I made it past all kinds of other snares to reach the mercury canal and start my long journey down it. Fortunately I had the foresight to start my journey near the centre of the massive pyramid-shaped phalanstery so as not to attract attention and avoid the heavy security.

Now my little drift along the stream is nearing its end. I can see the end of the tunnel, I'm almost free. None have made it this far that I know of.

All of a sudden, my raft stops moving. I check but it doesn't seem to be caught on anything. Then I notice that the mercury has stopped its steady, viscous flow. This I hadn't foreseen.

Some of the thick liquid metal starts to shift but it's a ways away from me and it doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Something starts to rise up out of the mercury. With horror I realize it's a human head. But wait, it blinked. A terrible kind of fascination washes over me as I see a living man rise up out of the toxic slur. He seemed to be made of the mercury. The man had a grim and serious face that was filled with terrible hate. He keeps rising until only his shoes are still submerged.

"Jacob," the man says in a commanding voice, "You must return to the community. There you will be one with the other men and the leader."

Afraid, I am still defiant, "Never! I'll never go back to that evil place and be forced to live in unity!"

The hate in the man's eyes intensifies. "You must understand, Jacob, that if you don't go back and receive a chip you will die. None of us wants that."

"No!" I yell.

Before my eyes the man starts to change shape. His human appearance quickly changes into a form more terrifying than any nightmare. It looks a little like a leopard but has a few very major differences. Hate is plainly visible in his eyes, in his leathery hide and dripping from his long, curved fangs.

"Go back and take the mark now!" it roars furiously. "If you do not return and worship the supreme ruler then I will be forced to destroy you." His lips curl into a vicious sneer. I can tell he wants to kill me just as much as he wants to see me go back and be productive with the others.

My mind is made up and I yell it out. "I will not go back!"

His jaws open and I see at least a hundred rows of teeth. He lunges at me and with nowhere to run I don't move an inch. The teeth roar past and darkness clouds my vision.

I look up and see a man in a black robe standing before me. He looks me over and nods in satisfaction. Everything around me is black or a dark shade of grey. Even my own body is lacking in color.

"Welcome to Hades," the man says softly, "You will wait here until the Judgment." With that he was gone.



Hey, I had a lot of fun with this one. By the way, see if you can find any of the secret references I'm making. Here's a hint, check out the chips and the monster. If you think you have it, or you want to know it, PM me. Also, the idea of "phalansteries" is real. It was thought up by Charles Fourier.

[Emanku]

Thank you for the compliments, anonymous. If you notice, I left out all of the most gory bits in skull trumpets by skipping all the actual fighting. That would have been long and horribly bloody.

[Esoteric]

*reads phalanx* Ooooooh, yes! I could see that mercury steaming as it flowed along beneath the shadow of the pyramid...and the ending, quite unexpected (which is refreshing). The first person perspective gave it a nice touch. You switched tenses between present and past a few times, but other than that, excellent writting. Encore!

[Emanku]

The Wolf's Sidewalk

Darkbrood lifted his muzzle into the air and inhaled deeply. Millions of fragrances drifted into his mind and were instantly categorized by importance. Most important was the smell of flesh rotting. Second to appear in his mind's eye was the scent of a rival male. The fool. Darkbrood was the toughest timber wolf within two hundred miles.

The canine's lips curled back into a half yawn, half snarl. He would be busier today than he had been in a while. Darkbrood quickly re-marked the area near his den and set off to sniff out the meal he'd smelled. You should never pick a fight on an empty stomach.

After walking a short distance Darkbrood hopped out of the brush and onto the hiking trail. At least it used to be a hiking trail. Once the powerful timberwolf took over the territory and started using the path, the hikers started coming less and less until they stopped altogether. A few stupid teenagers sometimes came to prove their worth by hiking up what they called the 'Wolf's Sidewalk.' It was actually a fair analogy, considering Darkbrood kept the path clear and other animals kept clear of the path.

Today was different. Today another wolf's scent was strong on the beaten trail. It was a young male. Judging by his stride, he was large and cocky. He probably didn't take the time to notice that only one wolf walked the Wolf's Sidewalk. He would soon learn. Darkbrood would see to it that he learned well.

Darkbrood's assumptions were confirmed when he walked up behind the young newcomer. The other wolf either couldn't hear him or didn't care because he continued gorging himself on a fresh white tail.

Darkbrood didn't waste any time. "Why are you in my territory?"

The cocky youth glanced behind him but didn't say anything.

"What are you doing in my territory?"

Finally the wolf replied. "Mind your own business short stuff."

"Mind your tongue."

"Hey, nobody talk to Gord that way!"

"I can talk how I want in my territory."

Gord turned around and stood up. His face was bathed in fresh blood but the rest of him was a dark brown. The wolf towered over the small Darkbrood who was less than half his size.

"You'd better back down, Gord."

Gord lunged at Darkbrood with impressive speed for a dog his size. Darkbrood sidestepped him easily. The challenger got a mouthful of dirt.

"You'll pay for that!"

Darkbrood struck. A single paw swipe across the back knee sent his opponent to the ground, convulsing in pain.

"Give up."

"NO!"

Gord tried to attack again but he couldn't stand. His leg had been dislocated.

"Give up."

Gord huffed and snarled for a while but eventually he did concede. Darkbrood popped the young wolf's leg back into place - quite a feat for any canine.

For the rest of the day Darkbrood ate, slept, exercised and tended to his path, which needed constant maintainence. It was an especially long process that day because he needed to get out every hint of Gord's scent.

[Emanku]

Assassin

“You got a lighter? Or a match?â€

[Esoteric]

Ah. I like how you turned it around. Good twist. You're good at short stories..making them nice and compact. But I wanted just a bit more at the end of this one.

[Emanku]

Thanks. The reason this one's so short is becuase I did the whole thing during a lunch break that I forgot to bring anything to eat. That and it's very difficult to keep a conversation going without revealing that the protagonist is the assassin.

[Esoteric]

Not bad for a lunch break.

[Emanku]

Druid [Part 1]

Wind whistled through the leaves of the great tree, standing on its hill. Its branches creaked under the strain but held firm as they had done for countless years. The mighty redwood towered high in the sky, above when any other dared. Battles had been raged among its base and it had seen every sort of national disaster imaginable. It had endured them all when ordinary trees were felled.

Slowly, that fateful day, the tree began to shrink. The untouchable pinnacle made its gradual decent to earth. Creatures watched with half-hearted interest or mild fear before continuing with their foraging and hunting. Humans paid little attention to the unnatural phenomenon in plain view. Most didn’t even notice it. Others shrugged it off as ‘a trick of the light.’

One old wizard stopped to watch for a moment before shaking his head and muttering, “Nothing good can come of this.â€