This is non-star wars releated...but I might as well post it!
He walked alone, on the green-gray grass, the clouds casting blackness upon the already darkened earth. Haze obscured the view of the distant mountains to the north, and the shallow river to the east. The eerie silence was broken only by his rhythmic breathing.
As he crossed a small ravine his step faltered, and his armor clanked loudly. He prayed to Mayene, the god of secrets, that no one--no THING--had heard his error. He put his hand to his sword, prepared to defend, but nothing appeared.
He began to continue across the ravine, but stopped suddenly, noticing a small whining sound coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The sound grew and grew in pitch and volume, until it seemed as if a million tortured souls were screaming for freedom, for final, peaceful rest. He screamed, and put his hands to his helm, but the sound did not stop. His head felt on the verge of exploding, but the peace of death would not come.
Just as he began to fall to the ground, a creature out of the depths of Hell itself emerged from the fog. His fanged jaw gaped open, and the souls screamed louder. The demon closed his mouth, and he swallowed. A glow from within screamed form his neck to his clawed hand, and shot out in a gout of black flame. The souls continued and as the flame rushed at the young warrior he saw the truth of the flame composed of the damned. In a blur of instinctive reactions, he threw his shield at the flame, and brought up his sword. As the shield collided with the flame an enormous black explosion engulfed it, and both were gone. He rushed at the demon and swung his weapon in a blaze of fearful hate. The demon bled pure molten steel, but was unphazed by the gashes.
Again, the demon opened his mouth, gathering souls for his next attack. The young warrior called upon the power of Saetai, the god of the sun, and held his sword high into the air. The sword began to glow, and take on a golden sheen. A thin, white-gold line shot from the tip of the sword, into the clouds. The sun grew brighter, shining through the gloom, until it seemed as if the clouds were gone. Then, the sun went black, and a great flash emerged from the demon's chest. Black mist circled with flame, in a whirlwind of death. The demon's remains sank into the grass, leaving a flaming outline behind. The sun regained it's light, and the warrior regained his sanity. He stood up at full heigth, staring at the flames.
It was only then he realized what he had done. He felt physically drained, and fell back to the ground. There he lay, for hours, resting his body, his mind racing with thoughts. He had just banished a DEMON back to Hell. He had just survived what few had even watched. He awaited the morrow when he could continue on his journey to the mountains, where his friends and family were. Surely they noticed the battle. He fell asleep to thoughts of triumph. He was the Hero of Light.
[This message has been edited by LoC_Warhead (edited September 25, 2000).]
He walked alone, on the green-gray grass, the clouds casting blackness upon the already darkened earth. Haze obscured the view of the distant mountains to the north, and the shallow river to the east. The eerie silence was broken only by his rhythmic breathing.
As he crossed a small ravine his step faltered, and his armor clanked loudly. He prayed to Mayene, the god of secrets, that no one--no THING--had heard his error. He put his hand to his sword, prepared to defend, but nothing appeared.
He began to continue across the ravine, but stopped suddenly, noticing a small whining sound coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The sound grew and grew in pitch and volume, until it seemed as if a million tortured souls were screaming for freedom, for final, peaceful rest. He screamed, and put his hands to his helm, but the sound did not stop. His head felt on the verge of exploding, but the peace of death would not come.
Just as he began to fall to the ground, a creature out of the depths of Hell itself emerged from the fog. His fanged jaw gaped open, and the souls screamed louder. The demon closed his mouth, and he swallowed. A glow from within screamed form his neck to his clawed hand, and shot out in a gout of black flame. The souls continued and as the flame rushed at the young warrior he saw the truth of the flame composed of the damned. In a blur of instinctive reactions, he threw his shield at the flame, and brought up his sword. As the shield collided with the flame an enormous black explosion engulfed it, and both were gone. He rushed at the demon and swung his weapon in a blaze of fearful hate. The demon bled pure molten steel, but was unphazed by the gashes.
Again, the demon opened his mouth, gathering souls for his next attack. The young warrior called upon the power of Saetai, the god of the sun, and held his sword high into the air. The sword began to glow, and take on a golden sheen. A thin, white-gold line shot from the tip of the sword, into the clouds. The sun grew brighter, shining through the gloom, until it seemed as if the clouds were gone. Then, the sun went black, and a great flash emerged from the demon's chest. Black mist circled with flame, in a whirlwind of death. The demon's remains sank into the grass, leaving a flaming outline behind. The sun regained it's light, and the warrior regained his sanity. He stood up at full heigth, staring at the flames.
It was only then he realized what he had done. He felt physically drained, and fell back to the ground. There he lay, for hours, resting his body, his mind racing with thoughts. He had just banished a DEMON back to Hell. He had just survived what few had even watched. He awaited the morrow when he could continue on his journey to the mountains, where his friends and family were. Surely they noticed the battle. He fell asleep to thoughts of triumph. He was the Hero of Light.
[This message has been edited by LoC_Warhead (edited September 25, 2000).]