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Post by Khornate Marksman on Apr 4, 2007 13:15:45 GMT -5
Paradise: A Game of Death
Far from the coast of the great harbor city Anvil there is an island populated by beautiful plants and trees and many exotic creatures. In the center of this island there is a great castle with towering walls and numerous towers. Its great gates open only to those that are invited. Inside the castle's walls lives a king of old times. Every ten years this king sends his personal messengers to find thirty excellent warriors. The chosen come from many walks of life; Knights, mages, gladiators, assasins, and even thieves.
These chosen warrior travel to the island called "Paradise" by the king's messengers. Once they arrive by ship they are escorted to the castle to meet their host. Inside the main hall the chosen stand before a large throne anxiously waiting to see the king. A tall man wearing exquisite robes walks to the throne and sits down on it. He has a long gray beard and is broad shouldered. Resting across his lap is a mighty cleaver as clean and spotless as the day it was forged.
The king speaks with a loud, commanding voice, "I am King Fedorian and this is my island. I was once the powerful count of Anvil until the people overthrew me. They killed my family without mercy. My wife Eolina and my two sons, Gewald and Sonja. I fled with what remained of my personal guard to this island. Using the wealth I have acquired over the decades I had this castle built. Here I plan my revenge on the people of Anvil. I hope to someday return and burn Anvil to ground so that I may rebuild and restore that which I lost. To do so I need warriors. That is why I called you here. This island is the site of a dangerous and very rewarding game. You all will be released from these walls to fight against eachother. Those who return alive in five days will be given a place in my army. When the time comes we shall sail to Anvil and slaughter all that stand against us. Beware, this island may be Paradise, but it is crawling with dangerous creatures and traps my men have set. This, my chosen, is the ultimate test of survival. Ready your weapons and selves. The game begins soon."
With that the king rises and leaves the room. The chosen are moved from the hall to a large, darkly lit room. In the middle of the room is a ring of thirty small platforms with rings of light floating above. The thirty all step onto the platforms. The air in the room begins to hiss with magic and the lights on the platforms shine brighter. A clap like thunder is heard and the chosen are teleported to random parts of Paradise.
In his chambers, King Fedorian stands in a circle scrawled on the stone floor. Thiry crystal balls with red candles resting in front sit around the circle. Between each crystal ball is a rune written with blood. The runes glow with a faint light as the king uses the crystal balls and his magic to watch the game unfold.
The chosen arrive at their destinations ready for the worst. The sounds of the jungle flow through their ears and the various scents assault their noses. They draw their weapons searching for any trace of enemies. In the distance a gong and is run and the game begins.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 4, 2007 15:31:19 GMT -5
Hmm... pretty interisting. I don't know if it's a good thing that you jumped right to the action, but I like the sound of it.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Apr 4, 2007 16:43:53 GMT -5
I only started with the beginning so you and whoever else reads this will know what the plot is. Kind of like how the beginning of Romeo and Juliet starts out with a prologue that gives a rough outline of what will happen in the play. For those that haven't read Romeo and Juliet the prologue starts off saying the play will be a comedy, but will end as a tragedy.
The next post will take place a month or two earlier to introduce a few characters.
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Post by Uesugi on Apr 4, 2007 17:25:19 GMT -5
Rung instead of run in the last sentence. And, a note on how you started: ... The plot is best left to be revealed...
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 4, 2007 17:47:09 GMT -5
Well, from how you describe the beginning of Romeo and Juliet, it states it's a comedy amd ends in a tragedy, as you said. It doesn't reveal the plot, as Uesugi said. I think you aim to inform people who don;t know much about TES about what the world and setting is about? But if you are, then I think you should retry, describe the world, and stuff, not the plot.
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Post by DEATH97 on Apr 8, 2007 8:14:53 GMT -5
I like it so far. I didn't think you revealed too much. It seems the things that will be revealed to the reader isn't that their are traps everywhere, but what those traps are, and what they must do to survive it. You left the most interesting part a mystery to unravel later. I was fine with that.
I would of liked the first post to be a bit slower, and introduce a character or two. Or just alittle more detailed background on the king. But you said that your next post will take place before this one, so It could still all work out if done right, and I'm sure you'll do it right.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Apr 9, 2007 1:53:32 GMT -5
2 months ago
Jarad Nontiga rolled over and fell from his bed, landing on the wooden floor with a grunt. He sat up and rubbed his aching head. He stood up and walked across the room to where his mirror hung on the wall, stumbling over discarded wine bottles as he went.
Jarad stopped in front of the room and looked at his face. Angry blue eyes stared back at him. His tanned features were slowly turning pale with each day he spent at home drinking his winnings away. He put his hand to the right side of his face where a pair of scars traced a river of reddish skin from his brow to his upper lip.
He ran his hand through his long, blond hair and felt the welt throbbing on the back of his head. Last night at the Tiber Septim Hotel a disgruntled customer decided to yell at the owner. Jarad had stepped in and the angry man stormed off. Later that night the man had attacked Jarad from behind. Unbeknownst to the attacker, Jarad was an arena combatant and knew what to do. He flpped the man over his shoulder into a pile of crates where he then stabbed the man in his throat until the life faded from his eyes.
The fight passed through Jarad's mind and he welcomed it. Smiling as the image of the now dead man clutching his ravaged throat while he died appeared. He spat into a nearby bucket and turned around to look at his room. Currently he was living in the Tiber Septim Hotel. Lying on a chest near the door was his enchanted sword called Ravager. It was given to him by his mother who was a master blacksmith before she passed away.
Jarad picked the longsword up and pulled it from its golden scabbard. Its glossy, black blade shone in the candle light. He gripped the red handle in his hands and took a few practice swings. Ravager was light in his hands and sang through the air perfectly.
A knock was heard at the door and Jarad returned Ravager to its resting place. Jarad placed his hand on the dagger hidden between his belt and pants on his back. With his other hand he turned the knob on the door and opened it. Outside in the hallway stood a small man the size of a wood elf wearing a black cloak around what looked to be ornately crafted, light battle armor.
"Jarad Nontiga?" asked the wood elf, pulling his hood off his head. His face was clean and sharp. He seemed to be a warrior, but bared no sign of rage or bloodthirst that most warriors did. Much like Jarad himself. Jarad only fought because that was all he knew how to do. Fight, eat and drink, and sleep was his way of living life.
"My lord has requested that you pay him a visit," said the wood elf as he reached into his cloak. Jarad's hand tightened on his dagger, but loosened as he saw the wood elf pull a small envelope and bag out.
"This is for you," he said. "The letter contains all you need to know. Consider the gold a gift. Now if you'll exscuse me, I have more deliveries to make." He handed the letter and gold to Jarad and turned on his heel to leave. Jarad shut the door and went to the desk in his room. He sat in the chair, placing the gold and letter on the desk, and picked up his knife. He opened the envelope and took out the letter. Unfolding it, he began to read.
Dear Jarad Nontiga, I, King Fedorian, invite you to my private island off the coast of Anvil for a tournament. If you choose to participate you will be paid handsomely. I twenty-nine other warriors will be your competition. My personal ship will depart from Anvil in two months so use that time to prepare. If you're wondering how I know who you are, let' just say I have plenty of time on my hands and a lot of coin to spend. Be sure to come prepared for my island shows no mercy to visitors.
I hope you accept my invite. Remember, a mountain of riches awaits you.
Sincerely, King Fedorian of Paradise Island.
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Post by me on Apr 9, 2007 2:24:34 GMT -5
Hmm... Intresting...I cant wait for the next update
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Post by DEATH97 on Apr 9, 2007 2:30:01 GMT -5
Not bad, not bad. I liked it. Not too much to go on yet, but a good start. I have to wonder if there is an alterior motive to the kings plans. For this seems like alot of trouble for what he tells them he has in store. Why not just offer them the job out right. The more warriors the better if he's to retake anvil. Why the games, and Mysterious invitation?
Actually now that I think about it.. This all reminds me of an actual mission in Oblivon. The small island off of Bravil, where you become trapped in a dungeon, which is like a game.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 9, 2007 12:20:20 GMT -5
I really liked it hound. Update soon.
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Raistlin
Beginner
I'm tired.
Posts: 2,451
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Post by Raistlin on Apr 18, 2007 11:39:18 GMT -5
Kind of reminds me of "The Most Dangerous Game".
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Apr 27, 2007 22:13:00 GMT -5
A lone guard stood outside the Inn of Ill Omen smoking tobacco. He leaned against a tree trunk puffing on his pipe staring up at the star-lit night sky. A comet flew overhead and he made a wish. Unfortunately for him that wish would never come true. An arrow flew straight for his head and pierced his unarmored head and into the tree trunk. The guard's arm went limp and his pipe fell from his now deceased fingers.
Arran Makil stepped out of his hiding place. His green eyes searched the front of the inn for any signs of other humanoids. Seeing none, the assasin ran down the small hill to where the guard's corpse stood against the tree. He removed the small sack of gold and food from the dead and pocketed in his black cloak.
Arran slung his bow over his shoulder and opened the door to the Inn of Ill Omen. Inside he saw a nord standing behind the counter.
"Greetings," said the nord. "Welcome to the Inn of Ill Omen. May I offer you a room and some dinner?"
"No, I'm here to visit someone," replied Arran. "Does a man named Rufio stay here?"
"Oh yes. He's down that trap door right there." The nord pointed to the trapdoor leading to the basement. "His room is at the end of the hall. He's probably asleep right now."
"That's fine. I won't be too long." Arran turned on his heel and walked to the other side of the room. He opened the trapdoor and climbed the ladder down, letting the door close softly on old hinges.
The assasin drew his small dagger and held it point down as he snuck down the hallway and reached the door to Rufio's room. Slowly he turned the knob and pulled the door out into the dimly lit hallway. Inside he could see his vitim fast asleep in bed.
"Too easy," he muttered.
Rufio stirred and rolled onto his side. Letting out a long yawn, he rubbed his eyes until they would open. Once they did he saw a sight that had haunted his nghtmares for years. A dark elf stood at his doorway clad in black armor and a black cloak with a dagger in hand.
Rufio opened his mouth to scream, but couldn't as the assasin through the dagger into his throat. Rufio grasped the weapon with both hands, trying to pry it out before suffocating on his own blood. He thrashed about until until his eyes glazed over and heart stopped. His body jerked twice more in his death throes and then became as still as a rock.
Arran checked the body to make sure he was dead and retrieved his dagger. He covered the body with the bed sheets and left it down there to rot. Once upstairs he left without a word and stood outside to catch his breath If not for his superb weapons skills he may have failed.
"Ah well, Lucien will be pleased to know that Rufio lies dead," said Arran in his raspy voice.
An arrow impacted in the ground between his feet. His bow was instantly in his hands with an arrow drawn back, looking for the shooter. After scanning the trees for a few minutes and not finding anything but a deer Arran dared to looked at the arrow.
He pulled it out of the ground and examined it. A small note was attached to the shaft with a thin rope. He tore it off and read it quickly. After finishing the note he rolled it up and tucked it into his robe.
A fortune eh? Well now I have something to live for besides being an assasin for hire.
Arran glanced at the sky and saw the moon was directly in the middle. It was a glorius red full moon. The assasin remembered the old days where his mother would tell him stories during full moons before tucking him for bed. Every full moon she did that until he finally cut off her head and sent it to his abusive father. He had left the body at home in his parents' bedroom for his father to discover.
When his father did return he was greeted with several knives to the chest and a sword through his stomach. Arran had watched as his father tried to keep his guts from spilling onto the floor. He had sat there and watched as the life faded from his father. He had ignored his fathers futile pleas for help and merely laughed in his face. That same night Arran meant the man that changed his life. A speaker for the Dark Brotherhood, Lucien Lachance.
Now, years after those events, Arran had risen through the ranks of the brotherhood and was a top assasin. But, to his dislike he was never paid very well. Every assignment only paid a small sum. Not enough to pay for a luxurious lifestyle that Arran desired.
"A fortune for me and an island to live on. What more could I ask for? Nothing!" he said into the woods, scaring a few birds from their nests. He laughed maniacally as he began the walk back to Cheydinhal where he would receive his reward and gather his meager belongings.
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Post by Uesugi on Apr 27, 2007 22:23:07 GMT -5
twic=twice
Decent update as always, seeing as it is coming from you. I am curious as to why he killed his mother, though. Doesn't make much sense.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 27, 2007 22:24:06 GMT -5
The first few paragraphs were awesome, I say. As was the rest. There were a few spelling errors, but other then that, It looks good. By the way though, in the futurem try avoiding things that have already been accomplished by people that have played oblivion. It's very predicatble when you know what is going to happen, is what I'm saying.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Apr 27, 2007 22:26:41 GMT -5
I only picked the Rufio quest because it's the only DB quest I remember right now. Besides Whodunnit?, but that would've taken too long. I couldn't even remember the nord's name.
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