Mortuus: A Battle Between Good and EvilBy Tech
MortuusStory
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Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Chapter One: The Road to Arzil

     Bradius opened his green eyes and sat up.  The sun was going down over the mountains on the far horizon.  Dying rays from the sun stretched out and turned the white grass of Nique a dark red color.  Bradius looked over the rolling hills of Nique.  They looked like a sea of fire in the dying light.  He turned and spied the small village of Nique.  The small wooden houses of Nique were among the flames, being engulfed in the fiery mass.  Nique was only a stretch of buildings along a road that went north and south.  The total population was maybe one-hundred.
     Bradius stood up and stretched, "Well, so much for supper."
     He started walking through the waist-high fiery grass towards the town of Nique.  Now the sun had gone down over the mountains and the grass returned to its pale form.  The town of Nique was once again saved from the onslaught of fire.
     Bradius got onto the road that led to and from town.

I'm not done yet.  This was all I could get in in the time I had.


Monday, November 28, 2005

Mortuus: A Battle Between Good and Evil

 

Prologue

 

           The wind howled over the lush green canopy of the Tarquin Forest and blew the hard rain sideways across the sky.  Even with the turmoil above, the forest floor was peaceful and quite.  Among the massive trees and overgrown ferns stood a small cabin made of wood from the forest.  The cabin had a small porch with a roof over it and on the porch sat an old man in a chair.  He wore red robes that made his long white beard stand out.  His face had as many wrinkles as he had seen years.  A wooden staff stood next to his leaning against the doorframe.  As the hermit slept, an injured fawn came limping up to the cabin.  One of its back legs had been pierced with an arrow.  The shooter was right behind the fawn in pursuit.  The fawn stood with saddened eyes in front of the still dozing hermit.  The hunter drew out his dagger and was ready to strike the fawn.  Suddenly, the hermit sprang up from his chair yelled, “Bren!” and pointed at the fawn.  The fawn immediately erupted in a pale blue flame.  The hunter staggered backwards in shock and then tore off in fear.  The hermit chuckled and sat down.  He watched the fiery fawn for a while until the fire began to die into embers.  The fawn stood in front of the cabin in perfect health.  The arrow was gone from its leg.  The fawn leaped over the giant ferns and was gone.  The torment above the canopy howled down to the forest floor and then only the sound of rain splattering on the leaves could be heard.  A small patch of rain found its way through the tangle of leaves and hit the hermit in the face.  The hermit made no motion to wipe it away or even showed that he knew the rain had hit him.  Then, he smiled and said, “Well, it seems like I have friends coming.”