Yams, Vampire Hunter! Part 2 (395 hits)
Category: NoneRating: -0.5 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by JTC (View user info) at 2006-08-08 23:23:02 EDT
1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/88737
Across the courtyard, two massive wooden doors stood shut and guarded; they were of plain design, but appeared quite sturdy, built of giant slats of timber held in place by iron bands. Where such trees were to be found in these parts I did not know, nor did I question. Small windows, merely slits cut out of the sheer rock, dotted the face of the cathedral. My guide walked ahead and spoke briefly with one of the guards posted on this door; it was at this time that he left me, to be replaced by two others, these somewhat more intimidating than he.
Each was clad from head to toe in pitch-black, glistening fullplate that clanked with each step. Capes they wore also, black with a white cross emblazoned upon them. Broad, two-handed swords were strapped across their backs. They wore helms forged in the old Norse style, black as the rest of their armor, though glowing with an inner, unearthly light, as if possessed--no, imbued--imbued with some holy force. They stepped from the shadows as wraiths, one flanking and one guiding me. The heavy wooden doors were swung open, and without a word the black guards led me into the sacred place. After passing through an open sanctuary, we marched back, back into the rock, down a narrow passageway lit by torch, until we reached a spiral staircase hewn from the stone. Up we went now, 'round and 'round; the stairs ended abruptly at a small platform, high above the city. I looked about in an attempt to discern my position relative to the cathedral...to realize that I was now on top of it, looking directly into the face of one of the guards that had come up behind me. He stared back for a moment, his eyes nearly hidden in shadow, then lifted one of his arms and pointed behind me. I turned to see the first guard walking toward another entrance build into the stone, defended by formidable barriers.
An iron gate barred the way, and behind it another heavy wooden door, much like the first. Archers stood on walled platforms to either side of the gate; it appeared the platforms were accessible only from inside this smaller fortress. One of the guards shouted toward the gate, and after a few moments, the iron bars began to rise. The doors creaked open, revealing a fairly short passageway leading to what could only be the light of the now-setting sun. My escort led me back only a few dozen yards to a large chamber as the doors slammed shut behind us. The walls to either side were of some sort of wood paneling; ahead and hundreds of feet below lay an expanse of wilderness, separated from the main room by nothing but a waist-high stone rail. The rear walls were lined with benches, providing the only seating in the entire room. The benches were lined with more of the black-clad guards.
A few of them glanced over and nodded to their companions; I was ignored entirely. One stood and walked towards us. In stark contrast to the lines of guards seated, he wore gleaming silver armor and a brilliant white cape. His step was deliberate, but not slow. A triple-weighted flail hung from his waist, the studded balls clanking against his armor with each step. The two guards flanking me saluted him and he saluted back. He motioned them to join the others along the back wall and when I glanced back, they had faded into the line.
"I am Justicator Griffin, the Governor, as it were, of this settlement."
"My name is Yams. I have sought out this place in order to become a Hunter."
"A Hunter?" He paused. "Walk with me, Yams." We walked out to the short wall and stood looking out over the desert. "The decision to become a Vampire Hunter is not to be made on a whim, nor can the task be accomplished in any small time--if at all."
"I am quite aware of the difficulties involved, and prepared to face them. Already I have travelled many leagues, from the havens of the North, through the wastelands, hoping to join the battle here at its front lines."
"There are many who make the trek here, brazen young men--and some women--full of courage and honor, but few last. Most run screaming at the first sight of the undead legions approaching; some stand to fight, only to be frozen with fear and cut down, perhaps assimilated into the hordes themselves. The only men I know I can trust are those who were born here, who were reared with sword and shield in hand, standing guard at their own doorsteps, awaiting the day they would be ordered into battle alongside their kin. They have no fear of dying to hold back the waves of undead from your cherished North. We dread but one thing, and that is the day that they breach this fortress and pour into the rest of the world, rendering it as uninhabitable as all you see around."
"Justicator, I am certain that my desire to protect my homeland is as strong as any man here. Unlike many of my countrymen, I am not content to wait until the day I am forced to defend myself. Present me with an opportunity to prove my worth, and I shall do so."
"Oh, I cannot present you with one, but the opportunity will undoubtedly present itself. We are assaulted periodically--merely a strike force, I am certain, testing our strength, probing for weak points in our defense, preparing for one final, massive attack. And if we are able to hold them off, to turn them back, that will be the day we go on the offensive, pressing deep into the South, crippling them--perhaps driving them out of this plane forever. Ah, but I am certain you and I will be long dead by that time. Well, one cannot prove oneself without proper training; yours shall begin at first light tomorrow."
I was escorted back to the barracks near the entrance to the settlement, where I was assigned a tiny room furnished with a cot and a desk. As promised, I was awoken the next morning and began my tutoring. The children of the colony were schooled just as I had been when I was young, with the exception that their instruction included everything known of the undead. They did not begin proper military training until they had received a "proper" education. For those such as myself, who had come seeking a life of war only in adulthood, tutors were provided, seasoned soldiers still serving in the ranks of the army, a sort of mentor.
I began to learn the history of the settlement, as well as basic combat techniques. There were several tiers of fighters, I learned: The first, most abundant group were the Soldiers. Most were commoners, tradesmen, blacksmiths, laborers by day, but when the horns of battle sounded, they all donned their armor and took to the defense of the wall. The second group consisted of the Guard, charged with keeping watch night and day, and joining the Soldiers in battle. The third group, much smaller than either the Guard or the Soldiers, was made up of several types of Riders--primarily horse-riders, but also, I was told, riders of the mythical Unicorn and Pegasus. A fourth group I had already encountered--the Phantom Guard, a tiny offshoot of the Guard comprised of the most loyal and most skilled men and women of the entire colony, trained in the basic Magics and charged with the sole duty of protecting the Justicator at any cost. The Justicator himself, I was told, had been divinely selected to lead this crusade against the undead. My teacher spoke of him with awe, as if he was speaking of some celestial being descended to the earth to dwell amidst mortals. In time, I would develop the same respect.
There were but a few dozen Wizards--for the arcane Magics do not lend themselves to just any man--and they were nearly as dear to the people as the Justicator himself. Their wards and enchantments kept the waters of the lake cool and the fields green, and though they were kept far from combat, the spells they cast from afar were invaluable.
The most accurate way to describe the Hunters is as Angels of Death for those who were already dead, namely Vampires. While the Soldiers and Guard were trained to hold back the onslaught of zombies and all sort of undead abominations, the Hunters were trained as shock troops, able and expected to seek out and eliminate the leaders of the armies. The undead are not a particularly clever lot--without Vampires or other Lords of the Underworld to command them, they tend to forgot entirely what they are doing. In essence, it was the duty of the Hunters to banish the Vampires from the plane of the living.
Amidst the learning, I began my training, and soon after I understood why so few chose the path of Hunter. I cannot recall--nor do I wish to recall--the number of nights I was awoken rudely to drill in the courtyard with the rest of my squad--seven of us total. Months passed, and with them several skirmishes, none of which I was allowed fight in. At the time I was furious, but of course I would have been slaughtered due to my lack of training at the time. In fact, we were not even allowed to watch the battles; for a great part of my training I had only the rumors circulating through the barracks to bring the thrill of the fight to me. Ah, had I known what that first battle would hold, I would have gladly missed them forever...But allow me to tell you of my fellow Hunters before I speak of THAT.
Only four of us were Human--the three besides myself all from this city. Two others were Dwarves, charming fellows hailing from the icy regions of the North; they were completely obsessed with the Cathedral carved into the rock. The last of us was a strange fellow, a Druid; he kept to himself, preferring the company of nature, a rare commodity in this place. He masked it well, having never undergone a complete transformation--at least not that we'd seen. None of us knew why he had ventured this far into the bleak South, and he did not seem inclined to tell us.
When we had been "adequately" trained--it had been some months, I do not know a precise time--we were allowed to watch battles from the relative safety of the cathedral roof. Through a device called a telescope--of Gnomish origin, I was told--one could see the battlefield as if standing on it. From where I stood, there was approximately a 500 yard stretch of land immediately in front of the wall which was hidden from my view. Up until the point I actually fought, I was unsure of what happened in the time the Undead crossed that stretch. All that was clear was that some number of the enemy survived the crossing to scale the wall, while others seemed to be catapulted over directly into the courtyard, where they were quickly rendered harmless by the lines of Soldiers, though they invariably took several good men with them.
I was not horrified until the night the gate was breached. To keep the tale simple, the drawbridge was lowered by force and minions poured into the courtyard, hacking, slashing, biting, clawing, even eating as they came. Though fighting back for their very lives, the Soldiers were slowly losing ground...It was then that I first saw the Justicator himself take to the field.
He was surrounded by a company of the Phantom Guard, and in the dark of the night, their name did them justice, for they were all but invisible. As men fell before the merciless onslaught, the Justicator drew his sword and pointed it directly towards the gate, the source of this incursion into his city. He stood for several moments, face uplifted, as if drawing power from some place unseen, then he lowered his head and unleashed through his sword a brilliant, blinding ray of light, magnificent and terrible at once. His body was enveloped in the light, his feet lifted from the ground, and after it had passed through him he collapsed onto the ground--near death, I later learned. The light tore through every undead creature within sight, cutting a swathe directly through the gateway. Another company of Phantom Guards swept into the gatehouse amidst the ensuing chaos to raise the drawbridge and the Soldiers mobilized to drive the evil forces back. The Justicator addressed the people as soon as he was able to walk again, and the fortifications of the front wall underwent numerous improvements.
My squad received word a few days after this address that we were to be deployed alongside a veteran Hunter squad in the next engagement. I did not know whether to be elated or terrified...
yams.rtf (20 kB) [application/msword]
User Reviews
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2007-08-30 18:55:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by AsshOly (user info) at 2006-09-25 00:54:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
shit, i liked it.
Submitted by whysenheimer (user info) at 2006-08-10 02:47:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Fag below.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-08-09 15:28:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm wearing a black and purple bra today.
Submitted by Yams (user info) at 2006-08-09 09:43:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
It's not intended to flow. It's not supposed to flow. Part 1 didn't flow, if you'd bothered to read that. None of its going to flow. Ever.
What happened to the days of people +2ing a post when they linkwhored?
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-08-09 09:36:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
*shouts across office*
"JTC... the man from the Really Big Paragraph Competition is on the phone.... yeah.. he wants a word with you.... Apparently you've won first prize"
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-08-09 08:54:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
your writing doesn't have a natural flow. it's a bit dense and difficult to read.
Submitted by necrofeelya (user info) at 2006-08-09 02:12:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
http://industrialevolution.bravehost.com/ftrip.htm
Submitted by Yams (user info) at 2006-08-08 23:34:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This was just the history lesson, the killing starts in the next one, so you can read it.
That is, if I don't find you and kill you first.
I really hated to write it just because I KNEW there would be shitstains like you who'd feel the need to review it.
Submitted by fun_with_needles (user info) at 2006-08-08 23:24:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
wtf i'm not reading all that! -2 for not having real yams.