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  #1   Add to a_lost_prophet's Reputation   Report Post  
Old November 29th, 2009, 07:20 AM
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HOTT 01 ~ And so our story begins...

[COLOR=white]<< The Heroes of Ten Tors[/COLOR]

[COLOR=white]Green pastures as far as the eye can see. From the ground it can go on forever. From Tom's point of view, it felt like it was going to go on forever. He had struggled across the ‘scape that cold winters morning. Luck blessed him with the absence of heavier rain and snow but the damp muddy moors where still treacherous to cover. Dartmoor had been a trek of choice for many local hikers and out of town visitors. Very few knew the true meaning of the ancient horizons and mysterious rock formations. Pillars, structures and tors. He was built of this, never the body builder, gymnast or rugby player. The runner or the sprinter, the one who would walk for miles and never slow, but the massive cylinder he carried on his back pushed him deeper into the soft ground. Each leg lifted an extra 10 kilos. He carried it well for the first kilometre but the second the third weighed him and his spirit down in to the mud. [/COLOR]


[COLOR=white]At the top of Devil's Tor she stood. Her black gown fluttered in the high winds and her golden hair was thrown back. No one knew her, how long she patrolled the country but she lived in the time of the great heroes. Where cities and lands were known by different names. Timeless. She sighted the boy in the distance; it was only a matter of time before he arrived. Turning into the rock face, she vanished within.[/COLOR]


[COLOR=white]Hidden within the hills, deep beneath the tors, earth and pastures were chambers, grand and mighty as the Opera Houses of old. Gold and red weaved rugs on a floor of dark mahogany boards. The sandstone wall darkened under dim candlelight. Beyond the valley of book cases, a fireplace roared and the room was filled with the scent of glowing ember. Absorbed within the Georgian chair Morigan flicked through the pages of the books as the glass of mulled wine cooled in her propped hand. [/COLOR]


[COLOR=white]Barefooted and freed from his wet clothing, Tom's body was lured to the warms of the fireplace. Dropped down onto the other dark leather throne he raised his feet onto the table, letting the orange flames warm his cold toes.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"Feet off the table" she ordered only raising her eyes off the page for a second.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]He didn't listen at first but decided it was best not to argue; a cold lesson he learnt a long time ago. His head dropped back, taking the weight off his neck, "You know what?"[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"I know." she said, unimpressed with his persistence.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"Please?"[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"Cullis gates do not just pop out of the ground. They require a huge amount of magic to create," she said plainly, not even looking up from the page. Taking a sip "and if you studied any of these books...” waving the wine glass across the span on the library “you would know that."[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"I'm not allowed to drive off the main road and walking here is a nightmare."[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"The exercise will do you good" being a thin frame, lean and slim, he didn't believe more exercise was necessary. In the times to come, there was a need to train the body for combat, become faster and stronger, but that was not his duty and not required for the work passed down to him. [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Lifting her head from the pages, "and if we were to create one, where would you put the other Cullis gate?"[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"In my bedroom" the absurd answer didn't register at first. "Wake up, shower, step into the gate at Newquay and appear right here in a second." He explained this plan with such glee and confidence, but all faded when Morigan dumb-struck expression hadn’t changed.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"Fully clothed I would hope.” Not as a well prepared speech as Tom thought, “Insane child.” She quietly announced to herself. “Come, we have work to do" The wide wine glass and tattered book stayed in the room on the table, as the two walked into the corridor of Bookcases.[/COLOR]



[COLOR=white]Two years ago the world darkened. What was thought to be a total eclipse was a warning that something foul was at work. Deep in the bowels of this earth, a fire burned of darkness and wrath. Its black beating heart felt life once more, a thirst to consume and devour the world in shadow. Soon after the first signs, something stirred in the abyss and turned the Earth against the people; tsunamis, earthquakes and storms travelled the world, and a swath of vengeance and malice, scarred across the countries. The Shadow Court. The Judges of Wraithmarsh. Passing out punishment and devouring the souls of innocence. In the old age, they were barters and dwelled in the deep crevasse of a ruined village. Luring and toying with the doomed souls who wondered into their game of dealings and death, and as the mutilated bodies mounted their strengths grows and the endgame approaches.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]At the first signs, Morigan had acted swiftly; she had chosen the Keeper, the young man who would gather the Heroes of the Old Kingdom and tools to arm her new Guild. Although she was no master over all arts, she was all that remained. Long ago lived the Heroes; masters of Strength, Skill and Will. Beyond the reaches of normal humans they wielded a power that wove the seeds of life itself, in order to deal out death and judgement against those who would demand worship reverence, at the cost of innocent souls.[/COLOR]


[COLOR=white]Pulled from the cylinder was a rifle, brown and green. Tree wood entwined into the metal, as if the weapons had been rooted from the ground.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"The Perforator" Morigan spoke its name as she laid it down. A sense of fear swept over them as they gazed over it. "Mad Mary's taste was certainly...eccentric". The power that was forged into its' steel would frighten all others, than those who would wield it. For this reason the Perforator raised it to the rank of the Legendary Weapons; magic hammered into steel and cut into wood. The Diachi, Hammerthyst, Maelstrom, Rammer, Red Dragon, Chopper, Enforcer, Rising Sun and the Calavera. All gathered from the far reaches of the world. "The less of these are out in the world for anyone to find, the better." They were taken away into the depth of the guild and locked safely behind the iron seal of the vault; their hidden armoury.[/COLOR]


[COLOR=white]"I really don't think you've thought about this." He stated loading the backpack. Basic food supplies and water in case the journey took him off road. A purple taupe pouch, tied at the top with black lace. Within a collection of crystals, round cuts, each colour was its own purpose. A sealed salt shaker, you would not want that to leak everywhere. A broken silver key, nothing left but the hand and the cardboard tube from a roll of toilet paper. "When I meet them, what do I say to them?"[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"That is entirely your privilege"[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"They're going to think I'm nuts. Hi, you're a hero of the Old Kingdom destined to battle evil spectres from hell. I can already see the men in white coats."[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]Morigan was quiet; she stared into the jewellery box on the far side. Her back turned to the room as she reached for the black velvet pouch with a gold lace tie.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"Save me your disrespect for these." She said handing them over to him.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]"You don't honestly think they're going to help do you?" [/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]She didn’t answer as she leant against the table directly across from him. This wasn't the time for jokes. They stood in silence and in half shadows for a moment. Two years in training and studying, it all comes down to this moment. The world was at a crossroads, fate weighed heavily on their shoulders. "How long do you think we have, before the first attack?"[/COLOR]
[COLOR=white]She stood in silence, lips pursed. What answer, truthfully, could she give to put him at ease?[/COLOR]


[COLOR=white]Wrapped up in his coat and backpack over his shoulders the Guild Master’s Apprentice gazed over the Dartmoor horizon. He emptied the black velvet pouch into his palms and four small black stones slipped from their confines, each decorated with gold pressed runes. He tossed them into the air, and caught them again. The four stones pointed in four different directions, but only one had the gold inscription facing up. "North it is then."[/COLOR]

Last edited by a_lost_prophet; January 7th, 2010 at 10:07 AM.
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  #2   Add to Greggrth's Reputation   Report Post  
Old November 29th, 2009, 08:53 AM
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Good start, definitely intriguing, keep it up
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  #3   Add to dolphinbad's Reputation   Report Post  
Old November 30th, 2009, 06:23 AM
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It seems promising. I'll wait the next chapters and follow the development and "growth" of the characters. I like this style of story. I don't know what you plan for the next chapters, but it would be great if readers could interact with some characters' actions through polls at the end of each chapter. Well, it's just a suggestion. Keep writing.
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