- Joined
- Apr 1, 2010
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- 107
This is a small amount of some of the ideas and stories I get randomly in my head, figured I'd write a few and see what Hive has to think of my growing imagination.
A Second Chance
The sun gleamed brightly on the small chapel, A place of sanctuary to many of the villagers that lived in homes near it. A strange place for a chapel to be, a remote location, the mountainside. You would think not many would come, but many do. Prayers are said, most good, some bad. The Priest preaches every sunday, which happens to be today. The people gather inside, on the fine wood benches, conversing with one another waiting for the session to start. The Priest was dressed in white robes, lined with gold. It is rumored to be blessed, enchanted. Some say it was touched by the hand of god himself. This is said because, everywhere the Priest goes, everyone likes him. Not one bit of hate has been shown. But, today will be different. So different. A scream is heard outside, people turn to the chapel doors, one man steps outside curiously. A horrific sight is seen. At the far end of the mountainside village, just in front of the bridge, a portal is open.
Shimmering brightly, but not with light, with a strange, dark energy. Before the man could turn his eyes, a Voidwalker placed its palm onto his face. Before everyones eyes in the chapel, green energy left his body from every orifice. The green energy soon turned red, and a mixture of blue let in. Blood, life, and mana were all being drained. As the Voidwalker removed its palm, the man simply fell to the ground as his skin melted off of his bones. In panic, people yelled and screamed, some turned to the Priest for an answer, who was too in shock. Some were still looking, in disbelief, thinking their minds had gone crazy. The Priest would not stand for his people to fall, picking up his staff, and charging towards the Voidwalker with light beginning to form in his hand. He brought the light to his staff, which swirled around it reaching the tip of the stave. As he brought his weapon down onto the Voidwalker light gleamed, slashing the ethereal demon. The Voidwalker almost didn't seem to notice, as it turned its attention down to the Priest, it simply stared. A short look, that felt like centuries. It was almost mocking the man, laughing at him for attempting. All the Priest could do was stand and stare back, as the Voidwalker raised its palm to the mans head. All that was left for him was that long, endless stare as his energy drained from his body. The light was gone. Death had come to him. Even as he was dying, all his energy drained, his life sucked away. His mind was still thinking. His thoughts still going, he found himself standing in a dark world. Shadows surrounded him, the ground lit beneath him forming a faint teal light. A small glow. Galloping could be heard, echoing, all around. A dark figure entered the Priest's sight. It strode up to him, a man in black robes sat upon the horse. The figure looked up, directly into the Priest's eyes. Piercing into his mind. He began to see images of the Voidwalkers destroying the village, the chapel burned a blue blaze. Purplish smoke lifted into the air and floated away. Bodies lie everywhere, with more bone than flesh. Then he saw the doorway of the chapel, one man still standing there, staring into an endless space. The image seemed so real, the Priest thought he could smell the stench of the bodies, He thought he could feel the smoke burning his nostrils and his throat. He felt himself coughing, eyes closed tightly. The Priest cleared his throat and opened his eyes, to find himself standing, perfectly fine. The figure was gone, and the shadows no longer surrounded him. The blue fires had stopped, the stench of the bodies had blown away. The Priest thought for a second that all of this was just a dream, a nightmare. But then he saw the ruins, the people. This wasn't a dream. This was his second chance.
[The above story was something I thought of while RPing.]
The Fall of Light
All the great cities had fallen. Ruins remained. Few small villages stood, resisting. Nobody was left. The last stronghold of light only had about a hundred men. The army has fallen, and darkness will soon consume all that is left fighting. The leader stood in front of the final base, Sun's Edge.
The Lord of Darkness' armor was dark and glowed with evil. It was large, heavy black platemail. A layer of black ice covered it, his sword was large enough to be a claymore. He held it with one, powerful hand. The blade stretched out six feet as a dark purple glow shifted around it. He approached the gate. With only one hand raised, energy impulsed through the air and the large gate blew off its hinges. Soldiers screamed as they were crushed and pushed back with the force. Those not in shock charged forward, swords raised, battlecries shouting. As they all reached a few feet of the Lord, he simply watched as spikes of dark ice rose out of the ground. Every soldier was impaled, killed without the slightest effort. He walked forward into the base. As he walked, the building cracked, soon walls began to slowly shatter. The walls around everything fell. The King of Light stood in front of his throne, drawing his blade. The legendary Sword of the Sun, nicknamed Phoenix Feather. As the King of Light held this blade with both hands, ready to fight his final battle in the name of the pure. A holy fire slowly lit the blade, not harmful to the wielder. The flames slowly swirled, glimmering like a Phoenix'es falling feather. His armor of gold glowed brightly as he charged forward towards his death. Images of his life flashed in his mind, the founding of the Castle of Light, and the Pure Order. He thought of how it all fell. How it was destroyed slowly and painfully by what you could call Death itself. He swung downward at the Lord of Darkness. The Lord brought his hand up and grabbed the blade of the Sun. The flames were extinguished immediately, and the sword shattered. The King of Light stood frozen, simply looking the Lord in the eyes. The light of the Phoenix had been taken away as if a candle was blown out. The Kings life finished flashing as a single thought went through his head. "If I fall, I'll take it all..." The Lord of Darkness placed a hand on the Kings chestplate. Then simply removed it. The King looked down, then his eyes opened widely. His body began to implode on itself, sucking itself in at the location of his heart. His eyes went black and he dissapeared into a portal the size of a human heart. The Lord simply walked away as the portal closed, the light extinguished, hope destroyed. The world had truly ended. No resistance was left.
[The above was just random that I wrote right now.]
EDIT: This shouldn't break any rules. Theres nothing too bad in there. Tried to fix any grammar mistakes I had, Didn't see any. Correct me if I'm wrong.
All thoughts/comments are welcome, Please use Constructive Criticism. I don't like people who flame because they don't like something. Have a reason.
A Second Chance
The sun gleamed brightly on the small chapel, A place of sanctuary to many of the villagers that lived in homes near it. A strange place for a chapel to be, a remote location, the mountainside. You would think not many would come, but many do. Prayers are said, most good, some bad. The Priest preaches every sunday, which happens to be today. The people gather inside, on the fine wood benches, conversing with one another waiting for the session to start. The Priest was dressed in white robes, lined with gold. It is rumored to be blessed, enchanted. Some say it was touched by the hand of god himself. This is said because, everywhere the Priest goes, everyone likes him. Not one bit of hate has been shown. But, today will be different. So different. A scream is heard outside, people turn to the chapel doors, one man steps outside curiously. A horrific sight is seen. At the far end of the mountainside village, just in front of the bridge, a portal is open.
Shimmering brightly, but not with light, with a strange, dark energy. Before the man could turn his eyes, a Voidwalker placed its palm onto his face. Before everyones eyes in the chapel, green energy left his body from every orifice. The green energy soon turned red, and a mixture of blue let in. Blood, life, and mana were all being drained. As the Voidwalker removed its palm, the man simply fell to the ground as his skin melted off of his bones. In panic, people yelled and screamed, some turned to the Priest for an answer, who was too in shock. Some were still looking, in disbelief, thinking their minds had gone crazy. The Priest would not stand for his people to fall, picking up his staff, and charging towards the Voidwalker with light beginning to form in his hand. He brought the light to his staff, which swirled around it reaching the tip of the stave. As he brought his weapon down onto the Voidwalker light gleamed, slashing the ethereal demon. The Voidwalker almost didn't seem to notice, as it turned its attention down to the Priest, it simply stared. A short look, that felt like centuries. It was almost mocking the man, laughing at him for attempting. All the Priest could do was stand and stare back, as the Voidwalker raised its palm to the mans head. All that was left for him was that long, endless stare as his energy drained from his body. The light was gone. Death had come to him. Even as he was dying, all his energy drained, his life sucked away. His mind was still thinking. His thoughts still going, he found himself standing in a dark world. Shadows surrounded him, the ground lit beneath him forming a faint teal light. A small glow. Galloping could be heard, echoing, all around. A dark figure entered the Priest's sight. It strode up to him, a man in black robes sat upon the horse. The figure looked up, directly into the Priest's eyes. Piercing into his mind. He began to see images of the Voidwalkers destroying the village, the chapel burned a blue blaze. Purplish smoke lifted into the air and floated away. Bodies lie everywhere, with more bone than flesh. Then he saw the doorway of the chapel, one man still standing there, staring into an endless space. The image seemed so real, the Priest thought he could smell the stench of the bodies, He thought he could feel the smoke burning his nostrils and his throat. He felt himself coughing, eyes closed tightly. The Priest cleared his throat and opened his eyes, to find himself standing, perfectly fine. The figure was gone, and the shadows no longer surrounded him. The blue fires had stopped, the stench of the bodies had blown away. The Priest thought for a second that all of this was just a dream, a nightmare. But then he saw the ruins, the people. This wasn't a dream. This was his second chance.
[The above story was something I thought of while RPing.]
The Fall of Light
All the great cities had fallen. Ruins remained. Few small villages stood, resisting. Nobody was left. The last stronghold of light only had about a hundred men. The army has fallen, and darkness will soon consume all that is left fighting. The leader stood in front of the final base, Sun's Edge.
The Lord of Darkness' armor was dark and glowed with evil. It was large, heavy black platemail. A layer of black ice covered it, his sword was large enough to be a claymore. He held it with one, powerful hand. The blade stretched out six feet as a dark purple glow shifted around it. He approached the gate. With only one hand raised, energy impulsed through the air and the large gate blew off its hinges. Soldiers screamed as they were crushed and pushed back with the force. Those not in shock charged forward, swords raised, battlecries shouting. As they all reached a few feet of the Lord, he simply watched as spikes of dark ice rose out of the ground. Every soldier was impaled, killed without the slightest effort. He walked forward into the base. As he walked, the building cracked, soon walls began to slowly shatter. The walls around everything fell. The King of Light stood in front of his throne, drawing his blade. The legendary Sword of the Sun, nicknamed Phoenix Feather. As the King of Light held this blade with both hands, ready to fight his final battle in the name of the pure. A holy fire slowly lit the blade, not harmful to the wielder. The flames slowly swirled, glimmering like a Phoenix'es falling feather. His armor of gold glowed brightly as he charged forward towards his death. Images of his life flashed in his mind, the founding of the Castle of Light, and the Pure Order. He thought of how it all fell. How it was destroyed slowly and painfully by what you could call Death itself. He swung downward at the Lord of Darkness. The Lord brought his hand up and grabbed the blade of the Sun. The flames were extinguished immediately, and the sword shattered. The King of Light stood frozen, simply looking the Lord in the eyes. The light of the Phoenix had been taken away as if a candle was blown out. The Kings life finished flashing as a single thought went through his head. "If I fall, I'll take it all..." The Lord of Darkness placed a hand on the Kings chestplate. Then simply removed it. The King looked down, then his eyes opened widely. His body began to implode on itself, sucking itself in at the location of his heart. His eyes went black and he dissapeared into a portal the size of a human heart. The Lord simply walked away as the portal closed, the light extinguished, hope destroyed. The world had truly ended. No resistance was left.
[The above was just random that I wrote right now.]
EDIT: This shouldn't break any rules. Theres nothing too bad in there. Tried to fix any grammar mistakes I had, Didn't see any. Correct me if I'm wrong.
All thoughts/comments are welcome, Please use Constructive Criticism. I don't like people who flame because they don't like something. Have a reason.
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