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 Post subject: Knights of the Corn - a fiction for the Cornstalker Forum
PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 12:25 pm 
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... hey, it's Friday somewhere, right? More will actually be coming tomorrow... But thought I'd give y'all a glimpse into what you've gotten yourselves into. :p
>Net

* * *

Vesteria was once a beautiful country. To the east, the beaches stretched as far as the eye could see, pale white sand contrasting sharply against the deep blue of the ocean waters as it broke against the shoreline. To the west, the sharpness of the Agiar Mountains served as a backdrop and a barrier between the vast grasslands of Pion and the swamps of Heliou. Further even than the Pion grasslands were the arid desert lands…

Yes, Vesteria was once a beautiful country. At least, it was until Naguilla was forcibly awoken from his magical slumber… the evil dragon had been sealed within his own cavern for eons, magically bound to sleep until his sentence had been served. His cavern disturbed by curious thieves, Naguilla woke instantly and the destruction of Vesteria had begun.

It did not take long for the inhabitants of Vesteria to begin organizing a force to take down the dragon at any cost. The destructive power of the creature was the stuff of legends… whole towns could be obliterated within minutes if the creature so decided, and what did not go to feed the voracious appetite of the dragon was incinerated, smashed, and demolished.

For decades, the people of Vesteria fought valiantly against the creature. At times, it seemed that the beast had been killed, and peace would return to the land for a year or two… but always Naguilla returned, each time more destructive than before.

Finally, the call went out to the spellbinders of the world to rediscover the methodology used to imprison the dragon many ages ago. The brightest and the skilled went immediately to work, trying to rediscover that which had never been duplicated before…

And everything went wrong.

One man, a spellbinder by the name of Hinton, very nearly had the process complete when Naguilla attacked the tower where Hinton resided. The destruction of his arcane books and potions created a shockwave of magical energy that obliterated the tower and everyone within… all but Hinton. The spellbinder was directly at the focus of the magical release, and two days after the rubble had settled, IT pushed its way to daylight.

No one knows whether any trace of Hinton still resides within the corpse that now walks the land. The land quickly learned a new word to describe terror… for the undead now walk the land. With fiery white hate burning in the vacant skull that rests atop the creature's frame, the creature began returning the dead to life wherever it went. Within only a span of a few months, an army of skeletal and ghoulish warriors began to terrorize the good folk of Vesteria.

It was at this point when Naguilla encountered the creature it had created. A fierce battle ensued, a battle that resulted in the creation of the Arid Wastelands where the desert lands had once stood. Naguilla and the creature battled for over two decades before Naguilla was finally forced to retreat, but not before nearly destroying the creature.

Undeterred, the creature began returning its fallen warriors back to unlife before returning its attention to the living of the land. For the next one hundred years, the battle continued unabated as the creature continued moving across the land, seeking the dragon that created it in the first place.

The dwarves were the first living creatures to experience the full fury of the conflict between these two powers. Sickened by the carnage above ground, the dwarves as a whole enshrined themselves deep underground in a massive cavern. Over the years, they built and developed their cities… until Naguilla appeared from the deepest caverns and attacked. They had only just begun to defend their home when the undead army forced its way past their outside gates.

No living creature lived to tell the fate of the dwarves. However, the Agair Mountains still echo with the cries of the dead and the dying, though no dwarf has walked the lands again for hundreds of years. The rumor persists that a few dwarves still live, still valiantly struggling to wrest control of their beloved city away from the undead overlords that now control it… but life is about survival, not about rumors anymore.

For now the lands of Vesteria are constantly under attack. All living entities are subject to attack at any given time from the undead, and most of the lands are desolate wastelands. Only a few pockets of survivors remain outside of large city walls, and the last bastions of survival continue to exist only by the sharpest edge of their swords.

Human, elf, gnome and gundar continue to survive, though their numbers are dwindling with every attack. However, within the port town of Burnch, a glimmer of hope began to form in the most obscure of ways…

In a bar fight.

* * *

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Last edited by net on Tue Dec 18, 2007 10:00 am, edited 2 times in total.

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 1:28 pm 
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Poor Vesteria. Poor Dwarves. So awesome! Can't wait for more.

First WOOOO!

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Last edited by 834n on Thu Apr 06, 2006 5:11 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 2:01 pm 
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I really enjoy the concept of the wandering dead thing.

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 8:17 pm 
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Sheer self control is what's preventing from shaking you to death while screaming "MORE! I WANT MORE! :D

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 8:28 pm 
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Humbug wrote:
Sheer self control is what's preventing from shaking you to death while screaming "MORE! I WANT MORE! :D


*makes mental note to avoid pissing Humbug off*

:p

Glad y'all like. :D

>Net

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 11:06 pm 
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woo!! interesting set-up you've got there !!!!

*anticipates the next segment of the story !!*

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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 12:24 pm 
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Bar fight? :D

Whee! Looking good, can't wait for more!

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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 2:30 pm 
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The undead are indeed quite an awesome element. :D

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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 5:06 pm 
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God I love this man!

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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 9:20 pm 
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“And stay out!” The massive gundar threw the men out of the bar with a snarl, turning his back on them before they landed on the other side of the street. He muttered under his breath as he turned back to the brawl continuing behind him. “Useless son of a bitches…”

Before he could continue, a voice screeched over the din, “Thanka, you moron! Get over here before someone hits something flammable and burns this place down!”

“Coming, Mistress Thunder!” Thanka smacked a large man upside the head, sending him flying over the table he’d been trying to pick up. “Got some cleaning to do over here first!”

“Well, hurry it up!” The portly human woman shrieked as a flagon crashed into the wall behind her. “Oh, that’s it!” She disappeared underneath the counter, returning with a large club that had obviously seen a lot of use. The first man closest to her unfortunately did not see it coming, and he collapsed with a groan as Mistress Thunder began swinging wildly.

“Great.” Thanka shook his head and moved toward her, but found his way blocked by a pair of swords. He frowned and crossed his hands over his chest as he sneered, “And what do you boys think you’re going to do with those?”

One of the two men snarled. “It don’t matter, ogre. If’n you want to live, you’ll sit your ass down right smart there in that chair and pretend what’s about to happen never happened.”

Thanka’s eyes narrowed. “This barfight is a setup.”

“Yer smart for an ogre.” The other man’s sword twitched slightly. “Too smart. You ain’t going to sit still and be quiet.”

“We’ll have ta kill him then.”

“Oh, that we will. After his boss dies.”

Thanka’s eyes narrowed, but before he could move a chuckle came from the next table over. His eyes moved to the person and he found himself looking at the tallest human female he’d ever seen. The woman was obviously a warrior or mercenary, judging by the twin curved shortswords she wore at her belt and her functional armor.

She caught his gaze and winked. “Amazing, really, how some people just feel like they own the world.” She finished off her mead and belched, wiping her face with the back of her arm in one smooth motion. “Hundreds of years of undead slaughtering us at every angle, and all they can think about doing is adding to the pile of bodies. Shame, really.”

“This ain’t yer fight, bit..” The man had been snarling at the woman, but his acidic words were cut short as her sword left its sheathe and, in a flash, had buried itself in the small of his neck, biting deep.

As he collapsed, his buddy turned to the woman and started to attack her… and crumpled when Thanka calmly raised both hands and effortlessly crushed his spinal cord. He looked at the woman. “Might I ask…”

“For my help?” She grinned. “I’d be more than happy to. They interrupted my drinking.” She kicked the body at her feet that was still twitching in its death throes. “Name’s Rhandi. I’m assuming I’ll get free drinks after this?”

“Enough to drink yourself unconscious for a fortnight.” Thanka smirked and turned back to the fray.

The attackers had expected the gundar. The attackers had even expected that the owner of the bar would defend the place fairly well. They had not counted on an obviously experienced mercenary to be assisting them as well… and when their numbers had dropped by over half in a very short amount of time, they quickly scattered to the winds.

It did not take Thanka long to deposit the corpses outside of the bar for the cleaners of the dead to remove during the next day’s business. He turned the sign from “open” to “closed” before he locked the door and sighed. “That’s done.”

“Good.” Mistress Thunder poured another flagon of ale for Rhandi as she talked. “Damn bastards were trying to get money from a turnip, it’s not like we had all that much to give them in the first place…”

Rhandi smirked from behind her cup. “Sometimes, any coin is better than none at all. Though I want no payment for my assistance… beyond a bed for the night.”

“It’s yours.”

* * *

... more would be coming, but thunderstorm means I go now. :D

>Net

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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 9:44 pm 
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Corn Reaper (Admin)
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off to a great start net, i look forward to reading more and contributing myself :D

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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 10:09 pm 
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i love you long time, net. but you know that. so does my weapon of fingers and pusling nerves.

*LOVE.*

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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 10:49 pm 
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Another tale well told.

Quote:
It did not take Thanka long to deposit the corpses outside of the bar for the cleaners of the dead to remove during the next day’s business.


Bring out your dead!
Sorry, I had to.

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 08, 2006 2:15 am 
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ROLLLL THE DIIIIICE DON'T THINK TWIIIICE AND WE CRUUUUSH

CRUSH!

CRUSH EM!

CRUSH EM!

-Megadeth (Translation: KICK ASS!)

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 08, 2006 3:02 am 
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*Waves the 'Netpoet Rocks' flag*

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 08, 2006 12:06 pm 
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This is SO awesome.... and it has only just begun! :D

*bows with respect in Net's general direction*

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 08, 2006 1:05 pm 
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:D Kick ASS. :D


Literally.

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 08, 2006 8:41 pm 
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woo!!! awesome!!

i imagined thanka as sortelli's ogre =D hehehe...

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PostPosted: Sat Apr 08, 2006 8:54 pm 
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LibertyCabbage wrote:
woo!!! awesome!!

i imagined thanka as sortelli's ogre =D hehehe...


I kinda did too. :)

>Net

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PostPosted: Sun Apr 09, 2006 7:55 pm 
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“So you’ve been called to go see the Paladins?” Thanka frowned. “What would the guardians of death want with you?”

Rhandi shrugged. “I don’t know, but their coin is good, perhaps the best around in these dark times. And, after all, they are the ones fighting the hardest to remove this undead threat from the land; it can’t be anything other than a noble purpose.” She grinned. “Which, of course, means that it’ll be dangerous, and it’ll pay very well indeed. Both of which suit me just fine.”

“I don’t trust them.” Thanka rumbled deep in his throat as he moved another table back into its proper position. “You humans revere the gods of the dead for your afterlife; we gundar have no such reverence for death. There is nothing past this life, beyond a curse to walk the lands with those damned undead.”

“I care nothing for religion.” Randi finished off her mead and wiped her mouth idly. “I worship only my blades, for they keep me alive.”

“Best religion to have, I’d say.” Thanka bowed low in her direction. “May your soul depart this world properly, and may your bones never walk after your death.”

“I wish you the same, my friend.” Randi nodded to him and walked out of the inn.

* * *

Thanatir grimaced in pain as the creature bit down on his leg, hard. With a snarl, the drow slammed a gauntleted fist downward, shattering the skull of the undead warrior. The creature continued to try to attack him, guided on by the unholiness that had brought it back from the dead in the first place.

Ramadeur’s voice echoed down into the chamber coldly. “Now do you see the difficulties in having a polearm as your soul weapon, Thanatir? Up close, you expose yourself unwillingly to attack. If you were attacked en masse, you would find yourself…”

“Shut your mouth, human!” Thanatir’s snarl cut Ramadeur off. “I am not afraid!”

“You should be.”

Savagely, Thanatir gripped his bardiche and swung at the two remaining skeletons in a high arced attack. The blade shattered both skeletons on impact, sending bone and cartilage flying. The drow sighed and relaxed visibly, leaning against the bone and tendon shaft of his soul weapon. “They are all destroyed. Is my test complete?”

“Hardly.” Ramadeur chuckled. “As a Paladin for the gods of the afterlife, you will find yourself tested every single day of every single remaining moment of your life. One more remains for your test…”

“One?” Thanatir’s ears moved as a sound from behind him caught his attention. He spun around, automatically slipping into the shadows as he did so. What he saw made him pause for just the briefest of moments…

A ghoul stood before him, greedy eyes seeking out the drow that had just escaped his filthy grasp. The creature was completely naked, its body warped and twisted so far beyond the original human host that any likeness to its original form was completely gone. Wiry gray hair protruded from nearly every inch of skin that wasn’t covered in open sores, and bloody puss oozed from underneath its mangled, clawed fingers.

Thanatir could feel the blessings of the gods behind his strike as he raised his bardiche. The veins the held the fingerbones together into the form of the shaft of the weapon thrummed with power as he swung, his cry shattering the silence with a vengeance. The monkey-headed blade sunk deep into the torso of the demon, neatly slicing it into two parts before continuing on and embedding itself into the ground about three feet away.

As the creature gurgled and moaned in its death throes, Thanatir looked back up toward the top of the chamber. “Now?”

A murmur of voices echoed down into the chamber for a short time, until another voice intoned, “Aye, Thanatir, your skills and abilities have been accepted. You will become a Paladin, as decreed by the gods whom we worship. Do you accept?”

Thanatir smiled. “Aye! That I do, and I shall serve the gods of death with honor! I pledge my life to their service, and will study your ways hard. This I, Thanatir, so swear!”

“Then it is done.” The voice paused before continuing, “Are there any who would wish to be the mentor to this new Paladin, to show them our ways and teach them the proper path of servitude?”

No hesitation was in Ramadeur’s voice. “I shall, brother Jensah. He shows strong promise, and a stronger will to back it. I look forward to learning much from him as he learns from me.”

“Then it is done. The ceremony is over. The Paladins welcome our newest member, Thanatir!”

* * *

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PostPosted: Sun Apr 09, 2006 8:08 pm 
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wooo!

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PostPosted: Sun Apr 09, 2006 8:52 pm 
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I have to say I really like this take on Paladins.

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PostPosted: Sun Apr 09, 2006 10:32 pm 
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NETPOET

rules the ring

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PostPosted: Mon Apr 10, 2006 12:12 am 
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I'm loving every bit of it. :D

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PostPosted: Mon Apr 10, 2006 1:36 am 
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omg.

;;


i'm so badass.


:love:++++

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