Chapter IV: Easier Said Than Done Part II

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

Crüxt stood up in his stirrups and gazed upon the glorious view he was afforded.  The ancient Templar Holt, commonly known as the Holt, was truly a humungous castle of unimaginable proportions.  The fortified area itself easily covered the same area as most major cities.  Behind its walls was the largest army of Templar gathered to date, over ten thousand men strong.  However, the horde they faced easily numbered in the hundreds of millions.

“By the gods, how many men have been assembled?” gaped Crüxt.

Chapter IV: Easier Said Than Done

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

“Ain’t no reason for the rhyme
Take the Black – Ready to attack
Take the Black
Face to face you bide your time
Take the Black – Ready to attack
Take the Black”

-“Take the Black” by Hammerfall

Crüxt stood in his stirrups to give his mace more room to swing.  It came crashing down into a brace of goblins, sending them flying as he readied to send a second group after them.  To his left and right other knights struck those around them with all manner of weaponry to clear a path onto the plains.  Casualties were inevitable as they fought their way through the sea of green, as the salmon that swims upstream.

Chapter III: Live To Fight Another Day Part II

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

As the various Templar readied them for the journey ahead, Craet dragged Loziras aside to his quarters.  “I know that Crüxt told you the truth, so I see no reason to hide anything else from you.”  From a side room Craet pulled forth a large box depicting the Battle of Balîn in ferocious detail.  Slowly Craet pried the lid off of the chest, revealing a twin set of gleaming blades.  “These belong to you, they were your fathers,” explained Craet as he relevantly removed one of the two blades.

Chapter III: Live to Fight Another Day

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

“We fought him hard we fought him well
Out on the plains we gave him hell
But many came too much for Cree
Oh will we ever be set free?”
-Run to the Hills by Iron Maiden

Inside the shrine, the remaining Templar, barely numbering a full company, knelt in prayer for their lost comrades.  The previous days fighting had seen to the utter annihilation of the Templar, and with it the only hope for Flûer, and the world.  Presiding over the conjugation was Master Craet, Grand Templar Master of Arcén.  Now the majority of his domain was home to uncounted orcs and goblins.  With such dire times at hand, it seemed that the only thing left was to go out with a bang.

With prayers concluded, the Templar strapped on armor, sharpened blades, and hefted shields.  All of them knew what lay ahead of them, and none of them held delusions of living to see the next sunrise.  In a separate part of the shrine, the only three remaining apprentices sat around a table, mourning over lost friends, comrades, and lives.

Fan Fiction

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

Shocking as it may sound, I actually had a piece of fan fiction submitted to me.  I am posting it here for one of two reasons.

1. I think I may include it later in the story line.

2. Todays regularly scheduled post is MIA!

As a fair warning, there is mature content in this story, and I would recommend anyone under 16 NOT read this.  Everyone else enjoy.

Compliments to Sissy and Vampirekitty for the story

Chapter II: Besieged Part II

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

Graylen whirled as Crüxt threw open the door to his study.  “You are needed, now!”  Just as quickly as Crüxt had entered, he beat a hasty retreat back to the infirmary, with Graylen in tow.

“Just what has happened?” he asked as they entered the infirmary.  “I must protest- oh.”  Graylen immediately dashed to the bedside where a limp form lay.  “What happened to hi- to them?” he corrected as another form was carried inside.

Chapter II: Besieged

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

Burning fires burning lives on the long distant roads
Through the lost mountains endless so far away from home
warrior soldiers forever we fought long ago
We’re all lost in the darkness so far away from home

-“Soldiers of the Wasteland” by Dragonforce

“Are they still sitting out there?” inquired Loziras.

“Yeah, same as last time,” replied Crüxt.  For the past few days the goblins have sat just beyond bowshot, blocking the entrance to the fortified shrine.  Effectively blockading the warriors inside.  Boredom had spread like a plague as of late, crippling the moral of the defenders.  To compensate Craet had ordered an increase in training as well as recreational activities.

A Shattered Peace, Part III

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

Loziras was awakened by a cry from the far side of the dormitory.  Credance sat bolt right also as the whimper reached him.  The two boys looked at each other blankly, then back toward the source of the sound.

“What is that?” asked Credance.

“Not sure, but I have a fair bet,” replied Loziras swinging his legs out from the bed and throwing on a light habit.  The two apprentices approached the room where Môràh was sleeping.  Pressing his ear to the door, Loziras could clearly hear the whimpering of the elf as she was wracked by whatever pained her.

A Shattered Peace, Part II

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

“I find myself most disappointed by your failure,” growled the armored warlord.  His jet black armor covered him from tip to toe.  He turned from the wall to look down on the man who kneeled before him.  “Despite having every advantage possible, you allowed the insufferable Templar to escape!”

“I take full responsibility m’lord,” said the man, his head still hung as not to look at his master.

“Look at me!” commanded the warlord.  The man’s head lifted up to look at the black, foreboding helm.  “You know the price of failure.  And you shall pay it, in full!”  The warlord swung his sword down in a vicious arc, decapitating the man before he had a chance to scream.  “Remove this…incompetent,” instructed the warlord as a clutch of goblins waddled into the pavilion.

A Shattered Peace

[tweetmeme source=”loziras” only_single=false]

“They’re seein’ through the promises

And all the lies they dare to tell

Is it heaven or hell?

They know very well”

“Only the Young” by Journey

Crüxt could feel the air tear at him as the company galloped over the beaten turf.  Ahead of them lay the Shrine of Arcén, one of the Templar’s many holdouts.  The burly Dräekìn stood in his stirrups to look around.  Crüxt easily towered over the men within his company, let alone the natural structure his race inherited from their less favorable ancestors.  “Company halt!” he called out.  The survivors of the battle came to halt to encircle their leader.